Mary Hunt is the creator of The Cheapskate Monthly newsletter, which can be ordered online at www.cheapskatemonthly.com/um. You can e-mail questions or tips at cheapskate@unitedmedia.com or Everyday Cheapskate, P.O. Box 2135 Paramount, CA 90723. All correspondence becomes the property of Cheapskate Monthly.
THIS ONE OPENED MY EYES!
This 'disease' can be costly
I could never be a medical transcriptionist. It's not that I couldn't keep up with the typing or figure out the doctors' handwriting. My problem would be the symptoms and medical conditions. I'd have all of them.
To say that I am easily influenced is like saying the Titanic sprung a leak.
Knowing this about myself, I wasn't all that surprised to end up with yet another condition after watching a recent episode of "Oprah" -- the disease to please. I passed their little "Do You Have the Disease to Please?" self-diagnosis quiz with flying colors. Actually, I wouldn't expect anything less from myself. The first question: "Do you ever say Yes when what you really want to say is No?"
Well, of course I do -- doesn't everyone? Or how about this one: "Is it extremely important to me to be liked by nearly everyone in my life?" What kind of a question is that? Who in their right mind would answer "no" to that one? Don't we all want to be liked? I whipped through that quiz in about 10 seconds flat, answering every question "yes," "yes," "yes" and ... "yes"!
I have to admit this need to please played a huge role in my own experiences with getting deeply into debt. I rarely spent for myself. I was forever buying for others, picking up the tab, giving the best gift. I wanted recognition, approval and acceptance. That can create a lot of pressure. I am learning that this "disease" starts with wanting to be a good person. You want to be liked. You want to be chosen first, never last. You respond to everyone's requests and just keep doing more and more with promptness and perfection.
In a way, this might seem like more of a conflict than a revelation. After all, aren't we called to generosity out of hearts of gratitude and service? Isn't it selfish to always say "no"? Yes, but there is a huge difference between authentic service and using it as an opportunity to manipulate. The test is to ask "What's my motivation? Is my action pure, or is it a sneaky way to get something in return?" Are you giving that expensive birthday gift to a 3-year-old so she will love you more and call you her favorite grandma, or because you love her and it will improve her life? Are you serving on that board so others will notice you and think you are a good person, or because you have an authentic emotional investment in the cause?
Analyze your motivation. Before you say "yes" to anything, do a quick self-analysis. Why am I doing this? Why am I buying this? What am I expecting in return? If you can answer "nothing in return," then your motivation is pure. If there's another answer, it's probably some form of manipulation. Experts say that time is the best antidote for the disease to please, whether that's five minutes or five months. Never answer on the spot. Nothing is so urgent you cannot take time to think about it. Acting to please can be noble and gratifying as long as the decision to do so is for the joy it brings, not for what you expect to get in return.
~MARY HUNT
Saturday, July 30
Monday, July 18
OLD AGE~
(Thanks for sharing this, Lady Rose!)
“The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.
Old age, I decided, is a gift.
I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body .. the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken back by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don’t agonize over those things for long.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I’ve aged, I’ve become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve become my own friend. I don’t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so avantegarde my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m, and sleep until noon?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60’s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love … I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set.
They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten … and I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say “no”, and mean it. I can say “yes”, and mean it.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day.”
Author unknown
(Thanks for sharing this, Lady Rose!)
“The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.
Old age, I decided, is a gift.
I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body .. the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken back by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don’t agonize over those things for long.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I’ve aged, I’ve become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve become my own friend. I don’t chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn’t need, but looks so avantegarde my patio. I am entitled to overeat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m, and sleep until noon?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60’s, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love … I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set.
They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten … and I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say “no”, and mean it. I can say “yes”, and mean it.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don’t question myself anymore. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day.”
Author unknown
Sunday, May 29
Prevent Hydroplaning
True story A 36 year old female had an accident several weeks ago and totaled her car. A resident of Kilgore, Texas, she was traveling between Gladewater &Kilgore. It was raining, though not excessive, when her car suddenly began to hydroplane and literally flew through the air. She was not seriously injured but very stunned at the sudden occurrence! When she explained to the highway patrolman what had happened he told her something that every driver should know
-NEVER DRIVE IN THE RAIN WITH YOUR CRUISE CONTROL ON.
She had thought she was being cautious by setting the cruise control and maintaining a safe consistent speed in the rain. But the highway patrolman told her that if the cruise control is on and your car begins to hydroplane -- when your tires loose contact with the pavement your car will accelerate to a higher rate of speed and you take off like an airplane. She told the patrolman that was exactly what had occurred.
We all know you have little or no control over a car when it begins to hydroplane. You are at the mercy of the Good Lord. The highway patrol estimated her car was actually traveling through the air at 10 to 15 miles per hour faster than the speed set on the cruise control. The patrolman said this warning should be listed, on the drivers seat sun-visor - NEVER USE THE CRUISE CONTROL WHEN THE PAVEMENT IS WET OR ICY, along with the airbag warning.
We tell our teenagers to set the cruise control and drive a safe speed-but we don't tell them to use the cruise control only when the pavement is dry. The only person the accident victim found, who knew this (besides the patrolman), was a man who had had a similar accident, totaled his car and sustained severe injuries.
True story A 36 year old female had an accident several weeks ago and totaled her car. A resident of Kilgore, Texas, she was traveling between Gladewater &Kilgore. It was raining, though not excessive, when her car suddenly began to hydroplane and literally flew through the air. She was not seriously injured but very stunned at the sudden occurrence! When she explained to the highway patrolman what had happened he told her something that every driver should know
-NEVER DRIVE IN THE RAIN WITH YOUR CRUISE CONTROL ON.
She had thought she was being cautious by setting the cruise control and maintaining a safe consistent speed in the rain. But the highway patrolman told her that if the cruise control is on and your car begins to hydroplane -- when your tires loose contact with the pavement your car will accelerate to a higher rate of speed and you take off like an airplane. She told the patrolman that was exactly what had occurred.
We all know you have little or no control over a car when it begins to hydroplane. You are at the mercy of the Good Lord. The highway patrol estimated her car was actually traveling through the air at 10 to 15 miles per hour faster than the speed set on the cruise control. The patrolman said this warning should be listed, on the drivers seat sun-visor - NEVER USE THE CRUISE CONTROL WHEN THE PAVEMENT IS WET OR ICY, along with the airbag warning.
We tell our teenagers to set the cruise control and drive a safe speed-but we don't tell them to use the cruise control only when the pavement is dry. The only person the accident victim found, who knew this (besides the patrolman), was a man who had had a similar accident, totaled his car and sustained severe injuries.
Saturday, May 21
You must know that this validates my love affair with all things delicious!
THE BEST REVENGE
By DAVID BROOKS
New York Times News ServiceWednesday, April 27, 2005 -
The release of a report in The Journal of the American Medical Association indicating that overweight people actually live longer than normal-weight people represents an important moment in the history of world civilization. It is the moment when we realize that Mother Nature - unlike Ivy League admissions committees - doesn't like suck-ups.
It turns out she doesn't like those body-worshiping, multi-abbed marvels who've spent so much time at the bench press machine they look as if they have thighs growing out of either side of their necks. She doesn't like those health-conscious rice cake addicts you see at Manhattan restaurants ordering a skinned olive for lunch and sitting there looking trim and fit in their tapered blouses while their buns of steel leave permanent dents in the upholstery.
Mother Nature, we now know, is a saucy wench, who likes to play cosmic tricks on humanity. If the report from researchers at the National Cancer Institute and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is correct then it seems that Mother Nature has built a little Laffer curve into the fabric of reality: Health-conscious people can hit a point of negative returns, so the more fit they are, the quicker they kick the bucket. People who work out, eat responsibly and deserve to live are more likely to be culled by the Thin Reaper.
I can't tell you how happy this makes me. Since I read about this report a few days ago, I haven't been able to stop grinning.
I've been happy because as a member of the community of low-center-of-gravity Americans, I find that a lifetime of irresponsible behavior has been unjustly rewarded. If this study is correct, I'll be ordering second helpings on into my 90s while all those salad-munching health nuts who have been feeling so superior in their spandex pants and cutoff T-shirts will be dying of midriff pneumonia and other condescension-related diseases.
Mostly, I'm happy on an existential level. I like to be reminded that the universe is basically crooked. This is what the zero-tolerance brigades and all the better living gurus never quite get.
In reality, life is perverse and human beings don't get what they deserve. The people with the worst grades start the most successful businesses. The shallowest people end up blissfully happy and they are so vapid they don't even realize how vapid they are because vapidity is the only trait that comes with its own impermeable obliviousness system.
Life isn't fair, logic is of limited value and, as Woody Allen observed years ago, everything your parents once thought was good for you turns out to be bad for you: sun, milk, red meat and college.
The chief moral lesson I take away from this report is that Mother Nature is happy to tolerate marginally irresponsible misbehavior.
She does want you to eat the occasional Cinnabon, so long as it isn't bigger than Delaware. She wants you to have that fourth glass of wine, and lecture the dinner table on the future of the papacy based on your extensive reading of "The Da Vinci Code." She wants a little socially productive mediocrity.
Darwin was wrong when he talked about the survival of the fittest: It's really the survival of the healthy enough to get by. As it says in the Good Book, the last shall sometimes be first, the meek shall inherit the earth, and the chubby will get extra biscuits at the breakfast buffet.
~Secretly, all Saucy Wenches knew this to be true, all along!
THE BEST REVENGE
By DAVID BROOKS
New York Times News ServiceWednesday, April 27, 2005 -
The release of a report in The Journal of the American Medical Association indicating that overweight people actually live longer than normal-weight people represents an important moment in the history of world civilization. It is the moment when we realize that Mother Nature - unlike Ivy League admissions committees - doesn't like suck-ups.
It turns out she doesn't like those body-worshiping, multi-abbed marvels who've spent so much time at the bench press machine they look as if they have thighs growing out of either side of their necks. She doesn't like those health-conscious rice cake addicts you see at Manhattan restaurants ordering a skinned olive for lunch and sitting there looking trim and fit in their tapered blouses while their buns of steel leave permanent dents in the upholstery.
Mother Nature, we now know, is a saucy wench, who likes to play cosmic tricks on humanity. If the report from researchers at the National Cancer Institute and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is correct then it seems that Mother Nature has built a little Laffer curve into the fabric of reality: Health-conscious people can hit a point of negative returns, so the more fit they are, the quicker they kick the bucket. People who work out, eat responsibly and deserve to live are more likely to be culled by the Thin Reaper.
I can't tell you how happy this makes me. Since I read about this report a few days ago, I haven't been able to stop grinning.
I've been happy because as a member of the community of low-center-of-gravity Americans, I find that a lifetime of irresponsible behavior has been unjustly rewarded. If this study is correct, I'll be ordering second helpings on into my 90s while all those salad-munching health nuts who have been feeling so superior in their spandex pants and cutoff T-shirts will be dying of midriff pneumonia and other condescension-related diseases.
Mostly, I'm happy on an existential level. I like to be reminded that the universe is basically crooked. This is what the zero-tolerance brigades and all the better living gurus never quite get.
In reality, life is perverse and human beings don't get what they deserve. The people with the worst grades start the most successful businesses. The shallowest people end up blissfully happy and they are so vapid they don't even realize how vapid they are because vapidity is the only trait that comes with its own impermeable obliviousness system.
Life isn't fair, logic is of limited value and, as Woody Allen observed years ago, everything your parents once thought was good for you turns out to be bad for you: sun, milk, red meat and college.
The chief moral lesson I take away from this report is that Mother Nature is happy to tolerate marginally irresponsible misbehavior.
She does want you to eat the occasional Cinnabon, so long as it isn't bigger than Delaware. She wants you to have that fourth glass of wine, and lecture the dinner table on the future of the papacy based on your extensive reading of "The Da Vinci Code." She wants a little socially productive mediocrity.
Darwin was wrong when he talked about the survival of the fittest: It's really the survival of the healthy enough to get by. As it says in the Good Book, the last shall sometimes be first, the meek shall inherit the earth, and the chubby will get extra biscuits at the breakfast buffet.
~Secretly, all Saucy Wenches knew this to be true, all along!
Friday, May 20
Thank you for sharing this with me, Wim!
Subject: wolves
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between 2 "wolves" inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
Subject: wolves
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between 2 "wolves" inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
Sunday, May 8
This is for all the mothers who didn't win Mother of the Year last year. All the runners-up and all the wannabes. The mothers too tired to enter or too busy to care.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in the night and can't find their children. (And the mothers in Iraq whose children died in bombings).
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the for mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
For all the mothers of the victims of the Colorado shooting, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just arrived safely home from school.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who don't.
What makes a good mother? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.
This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then reading it again, "just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who aren't perfect. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2-year-old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
For all the mothers who bite their lips- sometimes until they bleed- when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.
This is for all the mothers who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears -and tears- on their children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. So hang in there. The world would be a terrible place without the love of mothers everywhere. You make it a more civil, caring and safe place for the precious children in our world.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in the night and can't find their children. (And the mothers in Iraq whose children died in bombings).
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the for mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
For all the mothers of the victims of the Colorado shooting, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just arrived safely home from school.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who don't.
What makes a good mother? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.
This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then reading it again, "just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who aren't perfect. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2-year-old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
For all the mothers who bite their lips- sometimes until they bleed- when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green.
This is for all the mothers who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears -and tears- on their children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. So hang in there. The world would be a terrible place without the love of mothers everywhere. You make it a more civil, caring and safe place for the precious children in our world.
Sunday, May 1
Bizarre Holidays in May
My dear friend Mary shared this tidbit with me, and I just had to share it with you!
May is More Than Just A Pretty Face Month, National Correct Posture Month, National Egg Month, National Good Car Keeping Month, and National Revise Your Work Schedule Month
May 1 is...Mother Goose Day
May 2 is...Sibling Appreciation Day
May 3 is...Do Dah Day
May 4 is...National Weather Observer's Day
May 5 is...Totally Chipotle Day
May 6 is...National School Nurse Day
May 8 is...No Socks Day
May 10 is...Trust Your Intuition Day
May 11 is...Eat What You Want Day
May 12 is...Limerick Day
May 14 is...National Receptionists Day
May 16 is...Biographer's Day
May 17 is...Armed Forces Day
May 18 is...Visit Your Relatives Day
May 21 is...I Need A Patch For That Day
May 23 is...Morning Radio Wise Guy Day
May 26 is...Prayer for Peace Memorial Day
May 28 is...Great American Grump Out Day
May 30 is...Hug Your Cat Day
May 31 is...What You Think Upon Grows Day
My dear friend Mary shared this tidbit with me, and I just had to share it with you!
May is More Than Just A Pretty Face Month, National Correct Posture Month, National Egg Month, National Good Car Keeping Month, and National Revise Your Work Schedule Month
May 1 is...Mother Goose Day
May 2 is...Sibling Appreciation Day
May 3 is...Do Dah Day
May 4 is...National Weather Observer's Day
May 5 is...Totally Chipotle Day
May 6 is...National School Nurse Day
May 8 is...No Socks Day
May 10 is...Trust Your Intuition Day
May 11 is...Eat What You Want Day
May 12 is...Limerick Day
May 14 is...National Receptionists Day
May 16 is...Biographer's Day
May 17 is...Armed Forces Day
May 18 is...Visit Your Relatives Day
May 21 is...I Need A Patch For That Day
May 23 is...Morning Radio Wise Guy Day
May 26 is...Prayer for Peace Memorial Day
May 28 is...Great American Grump Out Day
May 30 is...Hug Your Cat Day
May 31 is...What You Think Upon Grows Day
Saturday, April 2
What do I know about raising kids, anyway?
Nuttin', really!
But I think that I know a little something about it from a kids' point of view.
Nuttin', really!
But I think that I know a little something about it from a kids' point of view.
I know what it feels like to be supremely embarrassed by the 'telling of stories' when my mother often shared and compared with her friends my most recent antics and mishaps. The burning feeling that started in my feet and raced to the tips of my ears when I'd overhear her explain, in every little detail, how I screwed something up, or tried to lie my way out of trouble with some lame little story or excuse that no half-wit would ever believe. To my logic, this was a woman who could not be trusted with intimate details and secrets of my heart. What? Confide in her, only to be outside playing below the open kitchen window, and then hear her calmly tell her friends that she found a poopy pair of my brand new lacy panties between my mattress and box springs when I had diarrhea and chanced the tiniest of farts and lost again to lady luck, NEVER!! She just added insult to my injury, how could she reasonably expect me to tell her about my first period, my first kiss, my first . . . . . . never mind, you get the picture.
I really think my mother was supposed to have a larger family. At least two or three of us, because it really hurt my case when she would ask something like, "Who ate all my baking chocolate?" And of course, thinking I should have had siblings, I would have to say, "I didn't know." I was quite grown when it dawned on me that, being an only child, this was never a good answer. But if she knew the answer, why then would she deviously set me up to have to lie about it? A simple statement like, "I know you ate all my baking chocolate, so now you'll just have to imagine how delicious the brownies I was going to bake with it would have tasted with a nice cold glass of milk. And since you've eaten so much dark chocolate, you'll probably get a bad case of diarrhea!" Now that would have stung more than the spanking I got for the lie. I would have learned to consider the consequences of my actions, instead of consequences from my lies. So, when I might have learned, sooner, how to make my own brownies, I focused on becoming a better more creative liar, and desperately tried to find ways to blame others when I got into trouble.
All kidding aside, I think that when some adults interact with a child, it's instinctive to imagine that the child is inferior or less than a regular person because they are small and not very wise, so the usual respect that is saved for those occasions when one communicates with another 'regular' person is forsaken. When a child is treated with respect and and the expectation of equality, I think they are very happy and willing to 'step up' to that and enjoy being given the opportunity to be a 'regular' person. By all means, kids should be allowed to be kids for as long as they are kids, however, when it is time for them to do so, it will be easier to put aside childish things, if they know how it is to be treated with respect and treat others as they would like to be treated.
Wistfully,
~Whurlie
Thursday, December 16
"I subscribe to a daily newsletter called "Everyday Cheapskate" and I frequently find little gems of advice that are worth keeping and treasuring. This has to be the motherlode of advice for the Holiday Season, and I'm happy to pass it on to you. I want to thank Mary Hunt, the author, for this timely advice, I hope it helps you! "
"If your spending habits are nudging you into holiday debt, you don't have to give in. You can experience a joyful season without mortgaging your future in order to feel good. It's all a matter of attitude -- something over which you have tremendous control. While you can't change many things related to this holiday season, you can choose the way you respond to them.
"It may seem completely ridiculous to think that just by changing your attitude you can change your circumstances, but it's often true. Disadvantages can be turned into advantages simply by the way you look at them. The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything.
"Don't be pressured into spending more at this time of year because you think it's the right thing to do. While you may have done this in the past, now is the time to make your holiday merry without taking all of Madison Avenue's suggestions.
"Here's a life principle that will help you understand and make meaningful attitude changes: It's easier to act your way into a feeling than to feel your way into an action. If you change your attitudes not because you feel like it but because you know what you're doing is the right thing, your feelings will follow. On the other hand, if you wait until you do it just because it feels good, you can wind up in massive debt.
"Everything about the holiday season stimulates our feelings. The music moves our spirits and tenderizes our souls. The displays of grandeur take our breath away. The grand decorations, the blessed sentiments; the gifts, the giving, the children and the loved ones; the snow, the parties and the pageants; the holly and mistletoe -- all of these things encourage us to act compulsively without thoughts of the consequences.
"Yet it's difficult to ignore the fear of not doing everything well enough; the guilt of not measuring up, giving the right gift or spending enough to even the score.
"Christmas can be one overwhelming feeling after another. If we allow our spending to be controlled by the feeling we happen to be having at the moment, we're in for some kind of a roller-coaster ride that carries a heavy price tag.
"I'm not suggesting that you should shut down your emotions during the month of December so you can stop feeling. Not at all! I'm only suggesting you not let your feelings direct your life. That's the job for your values, ethics and morals.
"Rather than allowing your attitudes about Christmas and debt to be shaped by your ever-changing feelings brought on by sights, sounds, smells, shopping malls, magazines, neighbors, friends, family or any other person, place or thing, you can choose to shape your attitudes in a reasoned and logical manner. This is the way to take control of your holiday spending. "
"If your spending habits are nudging you into holiday debt, you don't have to give in. You can experience a joyful season without mortgaging your future in order to feel good. It's all a matter of attitude -- something over which you have tremendous control. While you can't change many things related to this holiday season, you can choose the way you respond to them.
"It may seem completely ridiculous to think that just by changing your attitude you can change your circumstances, but it's often true. Disadvantages can be turned into advantages simply by the way you look at them. The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything.
"Don't be pressured into spending more at this time of year because you think it's the right thing to do. While you may have done this in the past, now is the time to make your holiday merry without taking all of Madison Avenue's suggestions.
"Here's a life principle that will help you understand and make meaningful attitude changes: It's easier to act your way into a feeling than to feel your way into an action. If you change your attitudes not because you feel like it but because you know what you're doing is the right thing, your feelings will follow. On the other hand, if you wait until you do it just because it feels good, you can wind up in massive debt.
"Everything about the holiday season stimulates our feelings. The music moves our spirits and tenderizes our souls. The displays of grandeur take our breath away. The grand decorations, the blessed sentiments; the gifts, the giving, the children and the loved ones; the snow, the parties and the pageants; the holly and mistletoe -- all of these things encourage us to act compulsively without thoughts of the consequences.
"Yet it's difficult to ignore the fear of not doing everything well enough; the guilt of not measuring up, giving the right gift or spending enough to even the score.
"Christmas can be one overwhelming feeling after another. If we allow our spending to be controlled by the feeling we happen to be having at the moment, we're in for some kind of a roller-coaster ride that carries a heavy price tag.
"I'm not suggesting that you should shut down your emotions during the month of December so you can stop feeling. Not at all! I'm only suggesting you not let your feelings direct your life. That's the job for your values, ethics and morals.
"Rather than allowing your attitudes about Christmas and debt to be shaped by your ever-changing feelings brought on by sights, sounds, smells, shopping malls, magazines, neighbors, friends, family or any other person, place or thing, you can choose to shape your attitudes in a reasoned and logical manner. This is the way to take control of your holiday spending. "
Sunday, December 12
The best gift of all~
"Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.
"Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.
"Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.
"Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together.
"Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love."
~Thanks Harold!
"Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.
"Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.
"Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.
"Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together.
"Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love."
~Thanks Harold!
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