Physical Education

Yesterday I was sitting at A's swim lessons minding my own business (ok totally eavesdropping on the two guys sitting near me with their kids) when a littler kid started flirting with me. You know, little kid flirts that are all about getting the attention of an adult, but they are a little shy about strangers, so they wave and then hide. So I started to sort of talk to the guys about their kids. (One of them has a kid in A's swim lesson.) And then one of them said something that made me lose my mind and say things that are probably socially inappropriate, he told me he was a middle school P.E. Teacher.

Now maybe some of you liked P.E. in middle school, to you I say, move along nothing to see here. But I know that there must be others out there who believe that P.E. classes in the 6th, 7th and 8th grades are definitely deserving of their own circle in Hell. I HATED P.E. classes with a burning passion at that age. And I ESPECIALLY hated, despised, and dreaded seeing my P.E. Teachers. There was nothing good in P.E.

On clear days, you could be expected to run. OH, how I wish I had to ability to go back and tell the 12-14 year old me that it would be fine if I got my mom to buy me a decent sports bra. But then, I was really embarrassed to talk to my mom about stuff like that (for no reason other than age as far as I can discern) so I probably wouldn't take my own advice. Let me tell you, running when you are a C-D cup in 7th grade and wearing a woefully inadequate bra is A) painful, B) practically begging to be stared at and made uncomfortable by boys, and C) practically begging girls to go out of their way to humiliate and ridicule you (probably out of their own self-conciousness, not that it would help a 12 year old to know that or they would believe it.) These are not a recipe for teaching a kid to like to run. My PE teachers used to follow me trying to urge me into running by asking if I wanted to be a lard butt while I walked swiftly instead. So basically every run was 15 minutes of being hounded by adults about why I wasn't running and allowing my self esteem to take a beating.

Rainy days may have been even worse, because then we would square dance. All the girls would line up on one side and the boys on the other and they would go down one line or the other and let the kids pick partners. GAH, the angst. God forbid you be among the last picked or if you seemed presumptuous and picked a partner who was above you in social station. A buzz will trill through the air as everyone whispered to each other and laughed behind your back.

The really sad fact is that in my middle school years I was NOT fat. I hit puberty before a lot of other kids in my class and I had boobs and hips, but I wasn't particularly large. I liked to ride my bike a lot and walked everywhere. I was active and probably REALLY healthy. But PE convinced me that I was HORRIBLE at exercising and I stopped trying.

But, it was still probably rude of me to greet the disclosure of some random guy's profession with, "OHHHH, You're THAT guy. GAWD, I hated PE teachers when I was in middle school." He laughed it off and turned back to the other person he had been talking to, and I went to hide in the women's restroom for the last 5 mins of lessons. Maybe next week I will remember to apologize for demeaning his profession, or maybe I will revert and just sit in the back corner and hope he doesn't notice me.

Widow part 2

So for the minute number of people here who might be new widows, here is some advice for you.

If you are a widow(er)

1. I am so sorry for your loss. It sucks that you are having to go through this.

2. Don't be surprised if at first you feel oddly removed from the whole situation. Numbness is often a first step for grief. I remember wondering why everyone felt so sorry for me. I wasn't the one who died, I was ok. Not great, but definitely making it to every next day. Don't mistake a feeling of numbness with a lack of caring for the deceased. It is your brain's way of allowing you to deal with the grief a little at a time without overwhelming you.

3. It will overwhelm you at some point. Sometime, probably at night or when you are alone, you will feel like you are being battered and bruised with grief. You will ugly cry for hours. Don't bother with tissues until you are done. (Or use a towel) For me, it always seemed to happen in the car. I often arrived at a destination feeling better but looking like an escaped psychopath.

4. People will say and do stupid things. People are not good with death. They don't know what to say to you. Sometimes they will say the exact wrong thing and either piss you off or make you cry. They didn't mean it. The mere fact that they are there talking to you through their own discomfort about death means they care about you. They may not say much, or they may inappropriately ask you for things to remember your spouse by. Cut them a little slack. Admit to yourself and to them that if the positions had been reversed, you wouldn't be a grand expert on what to say either. You know now because of what you went through, but before this you probably didn't. This is especially true for friends of young widows, because many of them have never lost anyone really close. Their loved ones and parents are all still alive, their experience with death is close to nil.

5. Try to reach out to people. Again, people are not good with death. So some will pull away a little or offer vague offers of support and help. This is no time to be a shrinking violet. TELL PEOPLE what you need from them. There are very few people who are going to begrudge helping you out or think that you are taking advantage of them at this time. This is no time to think of yourself as weak for needing help. Don't think you would be imposing ask, "I hate having to eat dinner alone, could we plan for you to come over or go out once a week?" Spend one night trying to think of the things your spouse did and make a list of what people could do for you off that list. That way, you don't have to think of things off the cuff when you are hurting, you can just hand over the list and say "Here is what I need, pick one."

6. You will be pissed at someone for something. I went crazy ballistic on a Target clerk who told me "No day was ever so bad you can't smile." When I was buying a dress to wear to my husband's funeral. If the person you are super pissed at is a loved one, consider the possibility that you may have overreacted. It is perfectly OK to overreact, even understandable. But if you love the person who you are pissed at consider that maybe, just maybe, it is more about the grief and less about the actual incident.

7. Be as kind to your in-laws as you can while keeping your sanity. Whatever your dealing with them, past bad feelings or strained relations, they have lost a child. Hopefully you will never have to know that special kind of pain. If you have children, try to make room in your life for them to know and see their grandkids. Your children deserve to see their parent through multiple viewpoints. Unless your in-laws are toxic, your kids will benefit from a relationship, even if you don't necessarily. And if you think your in-laws are toxic, take care to read #4 and #6 above and make sure it isn't about grieving.

8. It changes you. Don't be surprised if you find yourself more aware of your own mortality and the mortality of the one's you love. Because my husband died of cancer, I am constantly vigilant for health issues in myself and my daughter. Possibly to the point of being a bit of a hypochondriac. For the first year of my daughter's life I had a hard time leaving her side. Every time I did, I was anxious she would die while I was gone. While, clearly, this is an abnormal way to think for the average person, it is perfectly normal for someone post death of a loved one. (So said my grief counselor.) If your spouse died in an accident, you might find yourself unable to deal with anyone being late. Whatever the circumstances, be kind to yourself about the lingering effects. It isn't crazy, it's a normal reaction. If you start to allow the anxiety to dictate your actions (for too long, in the immediate aftermath you are entitled) you may need to see someone.

9. It lingers. Moving on with your life isn't a straight forward path. You will have a couple of good days, then a set back with blubbering ugly cries. Maybe you make it a week and then have a couple more days. For some reason our society seems to think that there is a year long grief period and then it expires. Ha, I say. Ha. You can expect to be randomly poked for a long time. Something will come up and you will feel sad, and wistful. Maybe the ugly cries go away, or maybe they just become less frequent, but it isn't a mountain you climb straight up and at the summit you are healed and totally fine for the rest of your life. Especially if you have kids who will be CONSTANTLY evaluating the hole left by their parent.

10. If you have kids, make sure you talk about your spouse. Don't shut down their questions or tears. It HURTS to see your kids in pain. (See #7 and try to put yourself in your in-laws shoes) And it is easy to try to distract or squash things that hurt. But your kids need to feel like they can talk to you and ask questions about their lost parent. It is ok to cry together and tell your kids, just because you cry doesn't mean you don't like telling them about their parent. But keep it as positive as you can. Don't whitewash the memory, but little kids don't need to hear a bunch of criticism for someone who isn't going to be around. Focus on what you loved about your loved one, and leave the rest until the kids are older and ask. Tell them on special occasions that their parent would have been proud of them. Compliment them on traits they inherited from the lost parent. Make them feel connected.

Widow me this

I seem to be getting a lot of news about people dying this month. Seriously, 3 different people have told me about someone they know and love dying recently at a young age. That doesn't include the handful of people who forwarded me the news article about the 18 year old widow who shot a couple of would be burglars. (Apparently being a widow makes you interested in all widow-related news.) It is very sad that this new year seems to be starting out so hard for so many people I know in a six degrees to Kevin Bacon kind of way. I have always offered to be a resource for the young widows I know about, because I found talking to others in the same situation to be very comforting when I was newly widowed. But beyond personal conversations this news has made me think of some things that I think new widows and people around new widows should know. (Though this is based on my own personal experience, so your mileage may vary.) So here is part 1. Maybe I can get the advice to newly widowed up tomorrow.....

Things to know/do when dealing with a new widow/widower

1. Talk to them. Seriously. Our society is NOT GOOD with death. We don't like to think about it, talk about it, confront it in any way, so when we are faced with the loss of someone we know there is often a desire to distance ourselves. We tell ourselves that we don't want to "bother" the person. (They are bothered by their loss, you calling is hardly going to make a impression.) We don't know what to say, so we don't say anything. We are afraid it will be awkward so we don't reach out. The problem is that A LOT of people who know the widow(er) are doing the same thing. And to the widow(er) it feels an awful lot like abandonment at the time they need support the most. Get over yourself and just reach out. Sometimes you don't even have to say anything.....offer to come over and hold their hand and shut your mouth, that is an offer that is almost never refused. Tell the person you don't know what to say or do, but you wanted to say something. Be honest, it really can't hurt.

2. When you do talk, avoid tired cliches. "He is in a better place" "At least he isn't in pain" "It was God's will" are at BEST cold comfort and at worst could have the person you speak these platitudes at fantasizing about punching you in the face. "I am so sorry," is all you need.

3. Listen to what they want to talk about and cut them some slack. Some widow(er)s find that they want to talk a lot about their loved one's. Others just want to talk about pretty much anything else. I have talked to a lot of widow(er)s who found themselves very sensitive to phrases like "football widow" or "I could have just killed him." Keep in mind that your friend/loved one is in kind of a shitty place and go with the flow. For now, take your talking cues from them and cut them some slack if they overreact about stuff. Really, it isn't you, it's them. But don't be a dick and point that out.

3. Don't just say "If there is anything I can do, let me know." While it is well intentioned, you are talking to someone who is most likely overwhelmed, grieving, numb and possibly just doing their best to hang on minute to minute. Thinking of what other people should be doing just isn't in their capacity right now. Offer specifics. "Can I come by on Thursday and bring dinner?" "Would you like me to come cut your grass this weekend." "Can I take your kids for you for a little while so you can grocery shop or just give into the need to scream without fear of further traumatizing your child?" If you are inclined to help organize things I understand that websites like www.lotsahelpinghands.com can be a wonderful tool to help organize help for a widow. Have one person sit down with the widow and make a list of chores/help she/he needs and you volunteer to be the person who uploads and maintains it. Then when someone mutters the phrase "Anything I can do?" all the widow needs to do is pass out a website.

4. Be patient. And persistent. For me, new widowhood was a numbing, shell shocked experience. Nothing felt right, sounded right, worked right. I needed but I wasn't quite sure what. I wanted to be with people, but always felt alone. I wanted to be alone, but hated every minute I was. Eventually you emerge from the fog, and you definitely notice who was there for you when you walked zombie-like through the worst of it. So even if your friend doesn't seem like your old friend. The conversations are tired or strained....stick it out. Everyone needs friends that stick by them, and remember that anyone can find themselves in that place.

5. It lingers. Widow(er)s move on at different paces and it isn't a straight shot. Some people remarry within 6 months, some haven't had a single date after 5 years. It is complicated. Especially if kids are involved. Life can be moving on quite well when something gums up the works and pokes at a sore spot in your heart. Be willing to hear that from your friend, don't get stuck in the mindset that after a year everything should be hunky-dory. The bad days should get fewer and farther between, and interest in other things should build, but don't expect to sweep the ashes under the carpet and never see them again.

The Hardest Lesson

A couple of weeks ago I had an epiphany. I am sure that it is a concept that 90% of adults already know and when I reveal it will shake their head in wonder that it has taken nearly 35 years to notice the obvious. But it did and I feel the need to share. So here it goes.....

Life is a process. Full of behavioral habits.

I know. Kind of dumb. But it occurred to me that I have treated a lot of things as goals to be reached. I am going to be physically fit! I am going to be financially responsible! I am going to be organized! I am going to be the most awesome mum ever and not yell or spank, but firmly discipline without tears and threats!

I have always thought that if I could just GET to the place where I was organized (for example) that staying that way would be magically easy. It would be like unlocking a door to a room where organized people go, and I would know all the secrets and it would take little to no effort to stay that way. I could remain in the organized room forever. So I have slogged through the work to obtain ..... organization or whatever, and for the most part, I have never reached that door. Whenever I achieve organization in one part of my house, another part falls apart. So I get frustrated and decide that I WILL. NEVER. BE. ORGANIZED. That usually leads to me giving up for a while.

Until I had this insight. These goals are not a mountain to be summited. All hard work on one side and easy downhill slide once I get there. They are more like a cycle. If I desire to be better organized, I don't have to achieve perfect organization. All I have to do is to be more organized, on average, than I have in the past. To have more days when I am slightly better than average at organization. I don't have to transform into a person who goes to the gym everyday for an hour or more. I just have to have more days when I eat less and move more, to be more fit and healthier.

Maybe if I can manage to do this for long enough I will get the coveted trophy of adulthood.

The Ties that Bind you up

I am getting ready to write a letter that I have meant to write for some time. I won't go into great detail about the situation that made the need for the letter, but I will tell you that the contents of it have me reflecting a lot on family relationships.

Everyone agrees that family is important. Most people want to maintain a good relationship with their family members but it is often hard. From my experience the idea that your family grows with you and your siblings grow to be some of your best friends and your parents learn to support you as an fully capable adult is less than normal. Parents and their children always seem to have at least a smidge of a power struggle at the heart of their relationship. Siblings, even as adults, don't always understand each other and feel the need to compete. For most of us, we find a way to love one another even as we build our own families with friends and loved one's that we choose. Adding people we find along the way to supplement or sometimes even supplant our imperfect relationships built by birthright.

But at what point do you decide that a familial relationship is too toxic to even withstand the occasional call or visit? What if you find that someone related to you, by no choice of your own, makes you feel awful every time they come around. It is a hard decision to make, one that is not supported by most. Everyone says, "OH but it's your mom/uncle/cousin/whatever. You can't just give up." And so often people suck it up longer than they ever would for a stranger or a friend. Smiling politely when they really want to tell the other person to shut up, stop being so self-rightegeous or to stuff it. Of course, you can never actually do that, because that story would be added to the "bad/funny" family stories list.....like when your aunt's husband got drunk at Christmas and made a scene telling off your Grandpa.

And what of the opposite? Through time or distance you find yourself estranged from someone who is related to you, but seems pretty cool. How do you reach across a divide to someone whose blood you share and offer friendship when you have been nothing but a familial afterthought for a long time? When you have been relegated to holiday small talk and Christmas Card exchanges is it possible to build something more without the framework of the remainder of the family pushing you back into your normal boxes? Especially if you don't have much to do except gossip about the rest of the family.

If you are lucky, and I am, your immediate family is mostly normal, sane and supportive. Even though your mother drives you crazy, you don't really understand some of your siblings' decisions and you really wish the one would stop that REALLY annoying habit every time you see him, you enjoy each other's company. If you are REALLY REALLY lucky, you find extended family members that care about you for who you are, not just because you are the blood of their blood, or because you make them look good by comparison. And maybe with enough of them you find a secret wink and a handshake that allows you to let the neigh sayers barbs and digs roll off of you, like water off a duck.

Or maybe you find your family reunion should just be sponsored by a major brewing company.

Oldish Resolutions

As I said last year, I don't usually do resolutions at the New Year. But for some reason a couple of weeks ago I was filled with the need to make some changes. I resisted for a few days, but then I wondered why I should let my loathing of resolutions prevent me from making a change when I want to. And since my last resolution was to allow myself to experiment with change when I want to, I went ahead and resolved some things.

I decided that I was wasting ENTIRELY too much time monkey clicking around the internet. So I decided to limit my internet surfing. Twice a day in the morning and at night, unless I am blogging or actually chatting (not facebooking) and then I can have extra time. I should be able to check out all my websites in that amount of time. Of course everyone else thinks, duh get off the computer, but this is a nearly 15 year old habit to break. I have for years checked up on my web bulletin boards whenever I had a few minutes, long before Facebook even came into the picture. And I have made some really good friends and received some great advice and support through these channels. But the amount of time I spend clicking the refresh button waiting for a reply has been creeping up in the last few years. Cutting it out is hard. REALLY hard.

Three weeks ago I put my new plan into effect and unsurprisingly enough, not surfing the web all the time has opened up a bunch of time for me. So I have cleaned out my china hutch, reorganized my pots and pans cabinet, read more books and started to reseason my cast iron. My house is cleaner, I am happier and I am not missing much on the internet even with less time spent there.

Eventually, I am going to attempt to limit my TV, computer and iPhone game time to a total of 2-3 hours a day, just like I (try really really hard to) limit A's. But let's not jump ahead of ourselves here, with that much time on my hands I might have to resolve to exercise more. Let's just start with baby steps toward the goal.