The Gift of Time

I hear a lot of talk of gifts lately.  People going crazy making time to go shopping, worrying about money and finding the perfect gift.  Everyone seems stressed out and I don't get the sense that most are truly enjoying themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I know some people get a true and genuine happiness from doing all that.  If that is the case, then excellent.  It is what makes them happy and they should keep doing that because it is what makes them an individual.

I, however, and most of the people I hear talking about gift giving, do not derive any great pleasure from it.  Sigh. So why do we do it?  Because it is what is expected of us.  We expect because it has always been this way that even though we don't find happiness in it we should just trudge through and do it.

I do love finding special gifts for my kids.  That makes me happy so I'll keep doing that.  What I don't understand is why we feel we need to buy gifts for every teacher (seriously, they have to want to cry when they get the 3,427th gift that's shaped like an apple), the third cousin on your mother's side that you never talk to, or Uncle Ray that you don't really like because he's kind of an ass.

For me personally, the best gift anyone can give me is their time.  I don't want stuff.  Stuff sits around my house collecting dust until seven years later when I get around to taking it to Goodwill.  Time spent with the people I love is so very precious to me.  The time I spend with people is memories to treasure and conversations to be recalled and laughter (and sometimes tears).  This is the best gift of all.

So before you go crazy running around town spending money you don't have on another $5 crappy gift that no one wants anyway, think about just giving the people you love the gift of your time.  Bring them a cup of coffee or tea (or a shot of whiskey...ha ha) and just have a genuine meaningful conversation with them.  Take a chance at being vulnerable and tell them what they mean to you and what they've brought into your life.  That's the stuff people remember twenty years later, and that is a true gift.

I Am an Individual

Hi!  My name is Stephanie.  I'm 41 years old and I have four kids.  I love photography, the color pink, high heels, wearing dresses, laughing obnoxiously, smiling, dancing, reading books, cooking, watching Pride & Prejudice, going to lunch with friends, running, drinking delicious coffee, talking, meeting new people, going to the beach, dyeing my hair whatever color I desire on any given day, and listening to music of all kinds. 

These are are things *I* enjoy.  Me.  Stephanie.  The person.

Yes, I have a family and I really love my kids.  Really a lot.  But I am not my kids, and I am most definitely not my kids activities.  I am an individual who has likes, dislikes, hopes, dreams, and desires all my own.  I have things that bring happiness to my soul.  I have things that help me maintain my individuality, which is incredibly important to me.

Far too often I see people drowning in monotony.  They do all the things they feel society thinks they should be doing for the age they are at instead of doing things that bring them actual joy and make them feel alive.  Like apparently, for the age I am, I should enjoy knitting, baking cupcakes and attending PTA meetings.  You know what?  I don't enjoy those things.  If you do, that is super fantastic!!!  Because hey, you are an individual too.  Do what you like.  Do what brings YOU pleasure. 

Do I do average, everyday things?  Absolutely!  I do laundry and make beds and check homework.  I listen to my kids read and remind them 20 times to brush their teeth.  I take out the garbage and load the dishwasher.  I take my kids to the park and wash the car and shop for groceries.  I tuck my kids in bed at night.

Do I blog or Facebook about these things?  Usually not.  Because let's face it, most people I know do that stuff.  If you are part of my inner circle peeps you KNOW I do all of those things.  If you are on the outside looking in, you really don't know me and you don't know all the time I spend with my babes doing perfectly normal things.  My kids make me happy, but they are not the ONLY things that bring me joy.

I think one of the most fatal mistakes we can make is forgetting we are unique individuals.  Doing things that make me happy also make me a better parent and a better person.  It's all about balance, and when I have done personally satisfying things I am better equipped to handle the tough yet rewarding job of being a parent. 

I've heard it said that adventure may hurt you, but monotony will kill you.  Today I hope you will have an adventure.  Maybe be a little (or a lot) silly.  Do something by yourself or with an adult friend that brings YOU joy.  Come on...you know you want to.

Welcome to My Obsession(s)

There are two things in my world that I am absolutely fastidious about - brushing my teeth and shaving my legs.  My inner circle peeps pretty much think I am crazy because of this.  They actually think I am crazy for a whole bunch of others reasons, so let's just get real and consider these two things on a pretty extensive list.  I'm the kind of person that just when you think you've reached the bottom of my crazy, you realize there is a crazy underground garage.  My ridiculousness has no bounds.

I digress...

So I actually carry a toothbrush and toothpaste in my bag.  Let's face it, I like to eat.  I don't always eat things that are delicate on my palate either.  I like onions, garlic, peppers, Parmesan cheese - you know, all the stinky things.  All the things that make you happy I'm not breathing in your face while being pushed up next to you  in the wave pool at Tokyo Summerland in Japan.  Google that.  It's crazy crowded there.

So I like brushing my teeth after eating.  Sue me.  I'm pretty sure there are worse habits.

The thing I am probably most meticulous about is shaving my legs.  I cannot stand prickly legs.  I am not the girl that is thankful for winter because it means I don't have to shave.  Ewww.  If you are reading this, sorry Megan.

I was out to dinner a couple of weeks ago with my evil twin and I told her about my shaving problem.  I told her I was pretty sure I was going to go home after dinner and shave my legs because I hadn't done it in the morning per usual.  I got the "you're crazy" look.  Good news is that I've grown accustomed to that look.

Let's face it, shaving just isn't that hard.  It seriously takes just a couple of minutes and if you happen to be sleeping with a significant other at night I'm pretty sure that person would consider it a real treat if they didn't have to worry about getting road rash from brushing up against you.

So you might be reading right now and thinking this girl has too much time on her hands or that you have bigger and better things to be thinking about during the day.  That may very well be true, but the real reason I do these things is because I feel like I need to be prepared.  Seriously, ladies.  What if today was the day I ran into Robert Downey Jr. and he decided to profess his undying love for me?  What if????  A girls gotta be prepared for that stuff.

See, I warned you about the crazy underground garage.  Bam.  There it is.

Business on the Top...Party on the Bottom

As I was getting ready for work today I had the immense pleasure of donning a brand new skirt.  It is seriously gorgeous...a tan herringbone patterned fall piece, but with the most glorious black lace ruffle gracing the bottom edge and a girly black satin ribbon around the waist.  I slipped on my nude Tahari pumps and I was good. to. go.  Not gonna lie.  I felt pretty B.A.

I walked into work and one of my female co-workers looks at me and tells me how I am always so pretty and how much she loved my skirt.  She said it was very, "business on top, party on the bottom."  That made me smile.  That whole naughty/nice thing is really my cup of tea, which is probably a story for another day.  After that, a different co-worker and I then had a little tête-à-tête about dressing up which has subsequently inspired me to grace you with my wisdom on this particular subject.  Yes, I use the term "wisdom" very loosely.

I was fat for the vast majority of my adult life.  Gasp. Yes, I said I was fat.  Why would I say such a thing?  Well...because I was.  I hated shopping.  I never thought I looked good in anything.  Shopping was painful.  Shopping was a horrible reminder that I was nowhere near the person I wanted to be.  To put it bluntly, shopping sucked and frankly I just wasn't comfortable in my own skin.  If you are comfortable and content and perfectly pleased with where you are at...more power to you!  I know some bee-yoo-tee-ful ladies in all shapes and sizes.  I, however, wasn't ok with how I looked and decided to do something about it.

So why oh why do I like to dress up now?  Why do I think it's important? 

One reason is because I've worked my rear off.  Literally.  Like, I lost a big chunk of my arse.  Over the past two years I have lost 80 pounds.  That's like losing a child's worth of weight.  And not a tiny kid either.  It's a mostly big kid who makes trips to the grocery store really darn expensive because they eat like a ravenous human who hasn't been able to find food since the zombie apocolypse. 

The biggest reason I like dressing up is because of how it makes me feel.  When I look like I have my act together on the outside, I feel like I have my act together.  I may possibly even be able to fake that I have my act together.  Yay me!

When I look like an unmotivated slob, that's exactly how I feel.  Seriously, that's not a very good way to feel.  My apologies to all the people who are totally cool with going to the grocery store in their pajamas, but that is not me.  I want to smack those people.  Hard.  Like I know there is nothing wrong with being comfortable.  I get that.  Looking like you've given up on life, however, is really unnecessary.  Unless you have given up on life.  In that case, let me give you a hug. 

In short, dressing up is a damn fine thing.  It makes you feel good.  I challenge you to try it for a few days and see the differences you notice in both how you feel and how other people treat you.  I doubt you'll be disappointed, and heck, you may even like it. 

My Brain is a Big Hot Mess

I spend a fair amount of time each day thinking about stuff.  And when I say "stuff" I mean mostly ridiculous stuff.  Then I have to wonder if other people spend a fair amount of their days thinking about ridiculous stuff too.  Like why is jalapeno bacon so damn good or why do people love kittens so much? 

The thing about me is I don't really like to keep my ridiculous thoughts to myself.  If you hang out with me for any amount of time you'll quickly learn that I say a lot of really brilliant things with wreckless abandon (aka I say a lot of completely idiotic things that will make you raise your eyebrows and wonder why you are hanging out with me).

I was having lunch with one of my fabulous friends yesterday and she said to me that the difference between us was that she had a lot of the same thoughts I did, but I actually say them out loud.  She seemed pleased by that.  A little impressed even.  Maybe that means by verbal filter is faulty or that I'm a tad mentally challenged. 

Since I'm a glass half full kind of girl I'm going to pretend it's a good thing.  I think far too many of us don't share our genuine thoughts and feelings with each other because we worry what people will think...maybe they'll think we are crazy or stupid or inappropriate or completely ridiculous.  The thing is there is an equal chance that just maybe they will be amazed.  Amazed because they've had the same thoughts and felt really alone because they thought they were the only one.  I'm working on being real all the time.  I think, quite possibly, it could make my world a better place. 

I Want To Write

I want to write this blog in the worst possible way.  I used to have a really well read blog.  I loved writing and sharing my thoughts and feelings.  I loved connecting with strangers who became friends because they could relate to my experiences.  I feel like that was a lifetime ago and I was a different person then.  I don't even really know who that person was. 

All I know is every single day I feel the words welling up inside of me that want to come out.  I want to write without thinking or censoring.  I want to be genuine, but at the same time I don't want to be judged.  I feel like those two things definitely do not go hand in hand.  It is a constant conflict swirling around my head. 

To write or not to write.  To let people read my raw thoughts and feelings without worrying about the fallout.  This is my dilemma.