Wand Targets, #3

“I’d never eat out alone.” Countless women–and men–have voiced this one, implying that if they had a magic wand they’d never have to shovel pasta alone again. Eating lunch with my daughter, we overheard the man at the next table lamenting, “It’s just awful. I can handle lunch alone, but dinner . . . ”

The underlying assumption is “I must be some poor, lonely loser if I can’t find someone with whom to have lunch/dinner.” Maybe you flash back to the lunch table, ousted by the mean girls. There was a time in our culture when single diners, especially women, were treated poorly by restaurant staff. Stereotypically shuttled to the worst table, where they would be banged in the head by the swinging kitchen door.

One of my greatest ways to refuel is to take my current book and eat on a patio in pleasant weather. I rather like my own company, people watching or enjoying a good story. Eating alone says nothing more about me than that I am eating alone. It’s all a state of mind. No need for self-talk that eating alone is pitiful; reframe it as the quiet time you desperately desire.

While we’re addressing expectations, you might want to add Eat Chocolate Naked Week to your list to celebrate. Are you sick of the conventional definition of beauty, and shamed into hiding because of some perceived lack in your appearance or size? This looks like a wonderful opportunity to redefine beauty in a way that works for you.

Wand target, #2

Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons by Snaily

Theoretically, summer is waning. But with record heat all over the world, the season seems intent on keeping it’s hot little mitts on us awhile longer. With the dog days, it seems that the volume on the lament “these kids are driving me crazy!” raises a notch or two. Working outside the home or in, moms feel guilty when thoughts like that percolate in their heads. “I hate that I don’t like my children.” “I hate that I don’t love every minute of time with my kids.” “It’s summer, we should be having fun–and I can’t wait for school to start.” “I can’t stand them climbing on me one more minute.” The elevated expectations of summer, to orchestrate more fun for our kids, make many women feel guilty against the reality of day in, day out summer.

Recognize the all-or-nothing thinking? When it comes to our loved ones, whether we’re parents or not, most women shy away from embracing the completely normal range of feelings that permeate relationships . Most of us feel badly unless feelings of love and good will materialize 110% of the time. We feel like bad moms, bad partners, or bad daughters or friends. We wish for that magic wand: POOF with fairy dust! We would never feel negative toward a loved one, child or adult, again.

Feelings of frustration with others in our lives are the badge of being human. Many women can accept such feelings aimed at the family of origin. As a small child in the grip of sibling rivalry, you accepted that you hated your sister. As a teen, it was status quo to hate your mom, and maybe your dad too. Underneath, you knew in your heart that you truly loved these family members. You just were momentarily (okay, maybe it was months that these feelings festered in your teenage heart) unhappy with the behavior, even though you still loved the person. Chances are, as an adult, you’ve come to terms with this reality with your significant other, as well. Backing off from black and white thinking, we can understand that this person-behavior distinction applies.

Nonstop sticky, sweaty, demanding kids clinging to your legs or lap ARE annoying, but embracing that reality doesn’t make you a bad mom. The mantra to memorize is “love the kids, hate the job.” Fleeting hate does not mean you are a witch. It means you are simply flesh and blood and emotion, rather than an autopilot Stepford creation. Negative emotions are a package deal with the joy. It’s all about the ratio. Tune into the fun, loving moments and you will see that the wand is not required.

If you need a few ideas to survive the end of the season, check out the August 3 podcast of The Sanity Hour. Perfectly good moms send those kids into the back yard to amuse themselves under the sprinkler while they sit in the shade with some deep breaths, a cool drink and a good book.

As requested: An Evie update

A few of my devoted and valued readers have asked for an update on little Evie. I am glad to say that she is doing great! Initially she had four or five types of medicine daily, in multiple doses. Now she’s down to two anti-seizure meds, several times a day, which will be continued indefinitely. No more eating problems–she’s gaining like crazy and feels heftier than she ever has been. Good news for such a tiny cat who was diagnosed as ‘anorexic’ at the height of her illness. The surprising part is how loving and playful she has become, making me wonder if she had been feeling rotten for a long time without me realizing it. She’s chasing the other cats and playing with catnip mice, and is very chatty and affectionate.

Being a cat, of course, she hates the medicine that is delivered via syringe down her throat. I’ve learned how to swaddle a cat (akin to herding cats, I’m sure) with a beach towel, essential to this task. Afterwards, she immediately hides in this DSW shoes shopping bag, as if that will change what has just transpired.

The cover story of Time magazine this week explores the surprising intelligence of animals and the lessons we can learn from our furry companions. Years ago, bringing kitten Evie home helped me identify with the impact of difficult or fussy infant temperament on a new mother’s sense of competence. Evie refused to sit in my lap and let me pet her, unlike all the other cats I’d owned (she is my ninth Siamese.) She would only tolerate being draped backwards over my shoulder while I paced and scratched her spine. I suddenly understood how hard it is for new moms with similar babies, who arch and pull away rather than cuddling easily into mom’s arms. Research has shown that temperament like this is likely hard-wired, for delivery room nurses can spot these sensitive, fussy babies within the first ten minutes of life and accurately predict which children show this predisposition when they are in kindergarten.

Even though I’m well aware of this fact, having Evie “reject” me in this manner was disappointing, to say the least. So her more loving kitty self is now a double joy, given that we almost lost her. And thank you all for sending your good wishes in our direction!

Wand targets, #1

In an effort to organize this blog, I’m launching some new categories. Admittedly, who really knows why I have a sudden need to provide order, after a half year of randomness? The need to organize usually arises out of feeling out of control, like when the house is such a mess that you suddenly just have to tear into (and straighten) the junk drawer. With the tidy drawer in front of you, you breathe a sigh of relief and accomplishment, feeling like you’ve grabbed the reins on your runaway life. I’m in the process of developing new writing projects in other venues, so the “to do” list is expanding, like one of those toys that magically “grow” into a slimy, disgusting object that you can’t wait to pitch into the trash once the children aren’t looking. Grow a dinosaur, grow a boyfriend, grow a cowboy–whatever your heart’s desire. But I digress. . .

New category number one is “wand targets.” If you could wave your trusty magic wand, and forever banish hated experiences and minor aggravations, what would be the target? What would vanish from your life? Tops on the list for most fallible human beings is the experience of being wrong. It’s a fairly universal state that we unanimously hate. Jokes in sitcoms and comedy routines abound (okay, often about men in particular) aimed at our discomfort uttering the phrases: “I was wrong” or “I made a mistake.” I continually tell myself, and clients, that making mistakes is NO BIG DEAL. To err is human, after all. I recommend repetition of the mantra “I’m only human. People make mistakes” as a way to stop the judgment, substituting a verbal pat on the back instead. You’re doing the best you can do. You can’t expect to be right 110% of the time.

Journalist Kathyrn Schulz has written Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error. which offers an in-depth, and surprising, look at this issue. Schulz explains that we detest being wrong because of over-generalization and absolute, all or nothing reasoning. Just the sort of meme–thinking traps–that I like to ferret out and expose. Most of us react negatively because being wrong seems to confirm our inherent flawed nature. When we make a mistake, we feel stupid, useless, incompetent. We zero in on the error, convinced it represents the total package of who we are, rather than one slip. Underlying the shame and disappointment are thoughts such as “what an idiot I was.” Even deeper underneath that brain chatter is the belief that “I must be perfectly correct and successful at all times, or I’m a loser.” Being wrong equals failure, in our minds.

Schulz offers an affirming counter view: that error is the fundamental human condition and should be celebrated. Drawing on cognitive science, Schulz says that mistakes in judgment and actions and the ability to make correct inferences are a result of the same process. We can’t be right without sometimes being wrong–because the underlying mechanism is the same. Inductive reasoning is the path to most decisions. We collect facts, fit them together, and draw a conclusion, assuming that it’s right. In terms of probability, most of the time it is. But sometimes, the facts don’t fit together in the anticipated way, and we’re surprised–and often offended that our process failed us. Schulz suggests acceptance of the fact that inductive reasoning itself is fundamentally, unavoidably fallible. But fallible does not mean useless.

The process of language learning is an example, says Schulz. Tiny kids learn to add the suffix ‘-ed’ to words to create the past tense, through inductive reasoning when listening to adults. Most of the time, this rule is successful: “walked” or “played.” But it’s not universal, as we see when children relate how they “sleeped ” or “eated.” Inductive reasoning has a high hit rate–with a healthy dose of misses.

It’s still the best our brains have–with a proviso, says Schulz, that she calls the paradox of error. To prevent error, we have to embrace the possibility that mistakes are inevitable because of how our brains work. Mistakes are an intrinsic part of a fundamentally sound system–not a reason to chastise yourself or others. Brings us back to the mantra, true all along. Everyone does make mistakes. This reassurance is not based simply in a generic, feel-good, esteem enhancing philosophy. It’s a scientific fact about human physiology. Update the mantra: “I’m only human–that’s how brains work.” It’s not just talk of empty reassurance; it really is the best we can do.

Aim for less

Aim for less sounds so unAmerican, so unprogressive. After all, we are a nation founded on always striving to achieve more. No one pines for a smaller house, fewer cars, or a reduction in income. As a culture, we’re heavily invested in the concept of “more is better,” applying that to material acquisitions, experiences, choices. Psychological research is clear that, as Barry Schwartz summarizes in his book The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less, more can simply paralyze us and cause us to second-guess our decisions. More clutter, excess, busyness–whether in our homes, on our “to do” lists, or in our psyches–simply overwhelms us.

One case of “more” that really illustrates this concept is what I call “the tyranny of one more.” Familiar scenario for most of us: this is the endless effort we make to sneak in one more task, one more item crossed off the list before we head out the door, pick up the kids, or climb into bed at night. The “tyranny of one more” makes me late more often than not and keeps me working past when I need to relax and unwind. It’s a direct route to being overtired and overstressed.

My younger daughter, perhaps showing her old soul, has been in touch with “less is more” since she was a tiny child. When she was approaching her third birthday, we were talking about the guest list for her party. I began naming friends, listing them on a tablet, while she played nearby. I was really writing this list for me, until I heard what she was muttering. “Too many friends, too many friends. No, no, too many friends.” I listened. We reverted to the time-honored rule of one guest per birthday year celebrated, and invited just three little girls as guests. It was an ideal party, with no melt downs! Another life lesson learned from a child–because I listened.

“Voluntary simplicity means going fewer places in one day rather than more, seeing less so I can see more, doing less so I can do more, acquiring less so I can have more.” These words are by Jon Kabat-Zinn, professor emeritus of medicine at University of Massachusetts Medical School and prolific writer on mindfulness meditation as a stress reduction tool. Cut yourself some slack this week and practice the wisdom of “less is more.” Decline one invitation. Make dinner out of canned soup and fresh fruit. Sit down and breathe in your backyard. Embrace ways in which less truly is more: guilt yourself less, affirm yourself more; spend less, save more; worry less, relax more; compete less, connect more.

A perfect Mother’s Day–blah, meow, woof.

Unless you’ve been orbiting in the space shuttle or hiding in an Afghan cave this week, you’re aware that it’s a big week for moms. Media hype and advertising = skyrocketing expectations about the perfect way to honor mom this Mother’s Day. Blah, blah, blah. Just as with any holiday–or for that matter, any regular old run of the mill day–unrealistic expectations are the most powerful, direct route to disappointment. The more we expect, the more hopes can be dashed.

I remember the painful first year that I didn’t have a daughter at home on Mother’s Day. My husband tuned in to my angst and made plans (earning many husband points!) I’d always loved the fancy hotel Mother’s Day brunches, and he surprised me with brunch reservations. Given the holiday crowd, the hotel moved the event to the massive, dim, chandeliered ball room, away from the usual intimate, sunny garden cafe setting. There we sat at a tiny “two top” in the midst of lively parties of dozens of family members, from great grandmothers to infants– most clad in gay spring hats! Just our little 2 person table, awkwardly adrift in this sea of flowering families. Given my expectations for a great time, I was surprised at how bereft I felt.

What’s a mother to do?

1. Ask for what you want. We’d like to think that on this day, out of the whole year, our loved ones will just know what we want. But family members are simply human, and likely not psychic. And don’t be afraid to ask for them all to disappear for the day, if time alone is what you truly crave. Or here’s a fun list of truly invaluable gifts.

2. Stay in the moment, and recognize the love in the intent. Embrace whatever is offered in celebration.

Too often we’re like cats in our expectations: we demand it all. At least silently, in the solitude of our minds, we expect to be pampered, stroked, fed all earthly delights between lengthy, luxurious naps, as the world revolves around us. At least for one measly day a year.

Not that mothers don’t deserve it. Parenting is the hardest job we’ll ever do, and a cat’s life is what moms deserve. However, “deserve” and executed reality don’t always align, and then disappointment can rush in. Unless we meow, or maybe howl, really loudly, for what we want. Refer to #1 above!

However, a better way might be to live in the moment like dogs. To dogs, every day is the best day ever: “I chased a squirrel!!!!” “I smelled a rotten smell!!!!” “I got scratched behind the ears!!!” “I got to go for a walk!!” Most wondrous day ever!!! In the current issue, Psychology Today explains that those who are happier, and luckier, definitely adopt this canine attitude, embracing wonder in every twist and turn of life. Woof, woof!!

On <em>The Sanity Hour this week, guest Cheri Ruskus shared this poem written by her mother Jeannine Landreau. Cheri discovered the poem after her mother’s death last year.

Do not take this moment lightly for it is the most important moment of your life
It is all there is of the present. Live it to the fullest for it will never come again.
All that has gone before it is a memory and all that will come after it is only a hope or dream of future things.
It is more than the beginning of tomorrow and the end of yesterday.
Make it a great moment, it is your life right now and you will never live it again!

Rein in your expectations this Mother’s Day, ask for what you want, and hope for perfect moments, not a 110% perfect day. With canine expectations for every moment, every day, the joy of Mother’s Day might extend throughout the year.

Happy Mother’s Day.

What works?

I know everyone is busy–but can I tell you about my week? Two evening events, the arrival of the corrected book proof and the flurry of first bulk orders, and a day held hostage to the carpet installers (you know, when you must stay home all day because workers are in your home). I could have written a blog entry–or at least a “sh*tty first draft– as in Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
author Anne Lamott says, on that day. Then, during one evening event, my house of course, the cat with interstitial cystitis decided she’d join ranks with the Tea Party activists in the nation’s capital by placing dime-size circles of urine on every other tax document the tax preparer (i.e., my husband) had spread out on the bed. Interstitial cystitis, chronic inflammation of the urinary tract, flares up under stress. Stress, to a cat, you ask? Stress to this cat (and her sister/litter mate, who in true sibling copy cat fashion also has developed interstitial cystitis) is any change to her environment that prevents her from sleeping 22 hours a day. Like carpet installers who bang on floors, drag carpet around, and prop the door open so scary neighborhood cat smells can waft into her territory. Phew. All of this is to say forgive me for the lack of lengthy, meaningful post this week. Simply don’t know where the time went. Now you know you’re not alone–and this is a week when I need to honor my own advice and write a “Did Do” list. However, this does not mean that I haven’t been thinking about my devoted readers. I’ve collected a short list of events that triggered “who says?” in my head this week, bringing to mind two of the thinking traps from Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box: Cut Yourself Some Slack (and Still Raise Great Kids) in the Age of Extreme Parenting. (Thinking traps are the culturally-ingrained myths about expectations of women and/or mothers that we keep in our heads.)

More, better, all is essential for success Always striving for the newest, fastest, latest improvement in anything and everything? A friend related how she and her husband just had to have a king-size bed. That was the pinnacle of “we’ve made it” adult success. And now they need not touch, ever, in bed. With plenty of room for avoidance, could the allure of king size mattresses be a factor in the epidemic of sexless marriages? A revved up, satisfying sex life is not easy if you never touch your bed buddy.

My grandmother shared another version of this same cultural drive to junk the old for the new. In the 70s, brass beds were all the rage. I was wishing aloud, hinting that one might lurk in the dusty, dim corners of her wondrous attic. She told how they had put the old solid brass bed frames out for the junk man, in favor of spanking new wood bedroom suites of furniture. The Pottery Barn catalogue look was not the sign of success in the 1930s and 1940s.

Moms have to protect their children from everything. One mom was lamenting that her children eat many French fries each week. Her preschooler was stuck on fries, eating only fries, as that age often fixates. Some say (my mother, a nutritionist by training) French fries are saving this country from scurvy because potatoes are rich in Vitamin C–and the only source of vitamin C for many. Another mom confessed guilt as all the other moms at the park slathered their kids with sunscreen. She chose not to do battle with her toddler over the process. Ah well, sunshine is our major source of Vitamin D. By slacking off on the sunscreen for that one hour, she decided she’d saved her kids from rickets.

Challenge the thinking traps, buck unrealistic expectations, and keep perspective. Does a king-size bed really define us? Is it really devastating to let your child eat French fries four days a week for three months, to make sure something passes her lips, if she eats healthy food before and after the terrible twos? Does one sunscreen free hour–or even several a season– over the course of your child’s life equal a certain health risk, if overall he is protected from serious sunburn? What works is what matters–not some arbitrary ideals about timetables we should keep or standards we should enforce or achieve. Embrace what works for you: a smaller bed, more fries, an hour of play sans sunscreen. And I’ll keep my own brain chatter going about the fact that this week, this late entry is what worked for me.

The Pearl Illusion

Time to tear off those pesky June Cleaver masks. Women work day in and day out to put up a good front. Not only is it exhausting to appear decked out in our pearls as we vacuum, but a new study shows that we’ll be happier through honest connection, engaging in depth with others, than when we chatter on at only surface level.

In research at the University of Arizona, the happiest people engaged in only one-third as much small talk as the unhappiest participants. Happy people engaged in twice as many substantive conversations, and spent 25 percent less time alone, than unhappy people. The link is well-documented between loneliness and depression. Even when I was in grad school thirty years ago, research was clear that feeling connected to others was a key factor for happiness and for health.

Women often battle the urge to conceal their troubles, rather than speak honestly about the challenging, tedious parts of their lives. Why invest so much energy in projecting the image that we’ve “got it all together?”

1) We secretly suspect that we’re the only one for whom it’s hard. Everyone else has twenty balls in the air and a smile on her face. We think “there must be something the matter with me,” as another ball goes careening out of reach. “If I were only stronger, smarter, more organized, a better multitasker. If everyone else’s life is smooth, it must be me who is defective, weak, or less than.”
2) We are certain others don’t want to hear us kvetch. Complaining is not attractive. People will tire of it, shy away, judge, or label the complainer as a downer or even a bitch.

Straight thinking is helpful. Is everyone else truly surfing breezily through the stresses in their lives? Are you the only woman out of 82.8 million who forgot her pearls today? Really? Are you accurately judging the ratio of calm versus chaos that you are expressing? Is 100% of your conversation constantly stewed in negativity?

Aim for moderation and middle ground. Yes, perhaps, if all you ever do is bitch, others might tune you out. I believe most women err on the side of minimizing life’s thorns, blocking honest communication and connection, than on spewing complaints 168 hours a week. Besides, it’s not the complaining that drives others away. Listeners shy away if they feel uncomfortable with the topic, or when the complainer doesn’t listen to suggestions, can’t be consoled, or goes on like a CD on repeat, ignoring possible remedies. If a friend is interested and listens, we need to honor her efforts with action on our problems.

I find that a simple expression of “poor baby” is incredibly helpful. When we kvetch, we validate each other. We empower our friends by saying “I get it, I know where you’re coming from.” We feel less alone and less defective.

Remember, June Cleaver only had to parent 20 minutes per week. She had no carpools to drive and no boss-imposed deadlines for her pies or her dusting. We feel better when we acknowledge that life is hard for women in this century–maybe the challenges are different than in previous generations, but hard nevertheless. None of us is perfect. All of us have trials. There’s nothing the matter with me–I’m just part of the whole race of women, tromping through the overkill of daily demands. When we connect through honesty, we feel happier, less alone, and healthier, too.

Lessons Learned from Moms of Champions

On The Sanity Hour (3/15/10), I talked to moms whose children are reaching for the stars. I talked to moms whose children are striving to compete in the Olympics or pro sports, who have written books, and who are aiming for (or now achieving) success on stage and screen. I wanted to reiterate the wisdom shared by these women, all good advice for raising our kids to be great adults, regardless of their goals. The key points about managing life for themselves as moms and their aspiring offspring were:

1) Great achievements are kid-driven, not parent driven. The children in question made up their own minds about the goal. That’s what fueled success. It simply does not work to push kids for our purposes. Parents can be cheerleaders, not coaches.
2) Values are key. Happiness needs to be a touch point: if the child is no longer enjoying the path, it’s time to regroup. Emphasis on being a good person, not just a star, who can inspire and give back to others contributes to success. And it’s critical to uphold values. Ignoring the importance of family time or trying to mold to the preferences of an agent/coach/director is a mistake.
3) Self-care and emotional outlets for mom must be cast in stone, especially exercise and mom’s own goals for her life.
4) Persistence is necessary, to push through tough schedules/commitments for all. Keeping the balance, of course, with values as addressed in #2.
5) Parents must insist on certain elements of regular life as a kid: time to go to the movies, regular bedtimes, homework completed. Parents can’t fear saying “no.” A parent’s job is to foster a well-rounded adult, and sometimes tough choices must be made in favor of normal life and activities.
6) Nothing is forever. Choices can be undone, interests can evolve. It’s about the process, not the destination.
All of these points are excellent rules for raising perfectly good kids, across the board. , not just for raising Olympic medalists or Oscar winners.

(I learned something too–not to jam too many guests into one hour! Apologies to my guests who had more to say, and my listeners who wanted to hear more in depth. This radio show host learning curve can be steep–like so much of real life.)

For information about some of the guests and their children, here are links.
International Chicago High Achievers is Jinnie English’s personal and professional development firm for high achievers, their families and companies. They help clients maintain their competitive edge.

Trent Kowalik is the 15 year old Tony-winning actor of Billy Ellliott

Taylor LeBaron was a torchbearer for the 2010 Winter Olympics. At age 14, Taylor created his own plan that turns fitness into a game and reduced his weight from 297 to 145. The plan is central to his book and blog.

Rada Thomas, of Stellar Presentations, speaks on women, sales, and leadership, when she’s not fostering her son’s football achievements. For more info, email radaspeaks@yahoo.com.

Mary Dressendofer trains aspiring dancers at her studios, including her seven year old daughter who aspires to sing, model, act, and dance.

Dakota Lee , daughter of Mary Ellen, has authored the book Flash of Freedom, and speaks to students and educators.

And if you need a getaway–and who doesn’t–here is a link from Joann Perahia, whose 15 year old sons appeared in the blockbuster film 2012.