Parenting Archives - The Twisted Maven

Nobody Told Me

“Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance” – Confucius

There were so many things I didn’t know intuitively about doing this adult thing, and now that I’ve experienced a great deal of them, I find myself wishing I still didn’t know about some of them. While adding years to your life can bring some wonderful moments, increased wisdom, and additional inner peace, there are definitely some things that have happened along the way that have given me pause. And I don’t mean menopause.

I put the following question out to the universe recently: what weren’t you told about being an adult, that you wish someone, anyone, had prepared your for? The responses I received were equally humorous, poignant, thought-provoking and heartbreaking.

So let’s break it down, shall we?

General Adulting:

There are no “How To Grownup” preparatory classes in high school or college. When you’re growing up, you think Adulthood is this fantastic party where you can do WHATEVER you want, WHENEVER you want.

I remember a conversation with my college BFF during our Senior year; we were both like, wow, it will be great when we graduate and can get jobs and pay for stuff and don’t have to go to class and eat bologna sandwiches on stale bread and drink cheap beer. And that’s what we did; we exchanged late nights for early mornings, rent for mortgages, internships for careers, and the single life to looking around asking ourselves, when did THIS (careers, houses, spouses, kids, MINIVANS) all happen?

When you become an adult, you need to figure out, and do, ALL the things. You need to work out things such as how to manage your time and finances, how to socialize, how to advance your career, how to clean and cook and, you know, grown-up things.

If you own a car, you have to pay attention to maintenance and repairs. Blowing up your car engine, because you didn’t realize those oil change reminders actually meant something, is a really expensive lesson to learn.

The same goes for home ownership. I heard from people who were just astounded at the amount of time and expense that goes into simple maintenance, let alone anything extra. This is definitely an area that I was naive about, to the point of immense regret of thinking I could be solely responsible for the upkeep and maintenance of an actual building and the land associated with it. The fact that the inside of my house generally looks like the aftermath of Armageddon is a consequence of kids and time/space management, and can be remedied relatively quickly. However, the faded front door color, the weed (not the good kind) garden I’ve nurtured via complete disregard, the kitchen drawers that stick, and the cobwebs that accumulate in the corners…just ugh.

Another thread of comments I received was about expectations vs. reality. The fact that a college degree does not, in fact, guarantee a person a decent income. Which is a double whammy when one has put themselves into a decade or two of student loan debt. Growing apart from friends that you thought would always be in your day-to-day existence. The wish that one had been encouraged to follow their heart, their dreams and their passions, instead of trying to conform to societal expectations. The realization that upon reaching adulthood, one does not, in fact, automatically get their shit together.

And then there’s the good things people didn’t know; like when you say “no” and nobody kills or even hates you, and you finally understand that that one word is an acceptable and absolute answer to many questions in life. Another one is the realization that it is reasonable and even respectable to re-invent yourself, start over, ask for a re-do; because life does not have to be the same-old, same-old once you turn 30, 50, 75, or beyond.

Marriage and Romantic Relationships:

Most of what I heard is that nobody tells you how freaking HARD it is to be married. That people change over time, and what may have brought two people together in their 20’s (or at any age) has absolutely no bearing on or relevance to who those two people are in their 30’s, 40’s, and beyond. The stressors, that no one thinks of when they’re planning their wedding, take so many people by surprise. Whether it’s having kids, having difficulty or not being able to have kids, one partner not wanting kids while the other wants them more than anything, career changes, leaving the workforce, relocation, or change of financial status, the list of potential big changes and challenges to a married couple goes on and on and on. There have been those couples who struggled and ultimately split up, those who have struggled and stayed together, those who have found true happiness the second time around, those who have lost their spouses to disease or accidents before they were ready, those who truly have never met their match, and those who have decided that marriage or other long-term relationships are just not for them.

A sub-topic of this that I got input about, that is even more complicated, is abusive relationships. Even the realization that one is in an abusive relationship can be astoundingly difficult to accept. I lack the expertise to weigh in on this topic, but I believe the person who stated that an abuser won’t change.

Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Post-Childbirth:

The farting. This definitely caught me by surprise, and I’m not the only one.

Hemorrhoids. As one friend put it, they’re not very funny when they’re attached to YOUR asshole.

The distraction. My squirrel brain, formerly rather orderly, came out full force when I was pregnant, and has never quite returned to it’s former calm sta-crap, I forgot to make lunches again. Is there any clean laundry? Where are my glasses? What is that smell?

Many women (and men) were not totally prepared for childbirth. When there is SO MUCH information out there, how is that even possible? My guess is that one can gather as much knowledge as humanly possible about every single kind of birth scenario, but our brains aren’t capable of preparing us for every single kind of birth scenario. This is why so many expectant parents make birth plans. We WANT things to be orderly and we WANT to be in control. And with giving birth, truly, anything can happen. How many of you, or friends of yours, have had emergency C-sections? Or were in active labor for hours and hours and hours, and then more hours? Almost gave birth before getting to the hospital or before the doctor, midwife, or doula arrived?

Personally, I was fortunate in that the events of birthing my two babies were relatively easy, albeit wildly different. One baby plodded out of my uterus on her own time, in an event that was calm, relatively pain-free (once I got that epidural!) and exactly as planned, but it seemed to take forever (okay, don’t hate me, but it was really only a matter of a few hours). My second baby arrived as many days early as her sister arrived late, and her arrival was more like Jack Nicholson’s character in The Shining, making her entrance by bursting through and nearly demolishing the doorway, scaring the shit out of everybody, and leaving a bloody mess in her wake. But at least it was over quickly.

One of the biggest surprises of giving birth for some was the fact that they pushed out something extra along with a baby. For those of you who don’t know because you haven’t forced an entire human out your bajingo…just think about it for a sec. The birther is exerting herself beyond anything otherwise reasonable, and the entirety of her digestive system has been squished into any available space around this tiny human’s incubator. So, yeah, poop can, and does, happen.

One friend chose to tell me about it via a direct message. On which she inadvertently cc’d her daughter, the one who caused the birth poop. When my friend realized her mistake and was OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD-ing, I was literally on the floor, howling with laughter, and the Birth Poop daughter was completely nonplussed. My hope is that now she’ll be better prepared for childbirth that her mom was, should she ever find herself in that situation.

The fact that sneezing (or coughing, or jumping, or any sudden movements) are never quite conducted after giving birth (or after a woman turns 40, whichever comes first) without a moment of self-check in, and sometimes an awkward knees-and-thighs-squeezed-together sprint to the bathroom.

Parenting:

The input I got about this category was wide-ranging and substantial, so I’ve made a few sub-categories. Except the two categories which are Sleep and Going to the Bathroom Alone. Neither of those things happen once you give birth. They know and they will find you, in your deepest dreams or your most urgent need to use the toilet, with something absolutely earth shattering, like “Hi Mama, watcha doin?” or “Ma! Whats for dinner?”.

Parenting Little Boys: They pee everywhere. Except into the toilet. They feel the need to stretch their penises like taffy when they are toddlers. Boy pee has been sniffed out, felt, and cleaned up from the most unlikeliest of places

Parenting Little Girls: They scream a lot. Like a LOT a lot. And a lot of time is spent teaching daughters how to wipe themselves front to back (aka, don’t sweep the dirt back into the kitchen).

Parenting Bigger Boys: They still pee everywhere. And they can make you angrier than you ever thought possible. And can also make you prouder than you ever thought you could be.

Parenting Bigger Girls: They still scream a lot. And they can also make you angrier than you ever thought possible. And after the screaming is done, there are those hugs and tears as you pull them close and never want to let them go.

General Parenting (for all ages):

There is a LOT of guilt and fear.

Every stupid and inappropriate thing we say is repeated by our littles, usually at the worst moments possible. Like quoted verbatim, in front of my mother.

We all have moments when we realize that we have totally lost our former selves, and we decide to do something about that, or not.

We feel totally stupid trying to help with math homework.

We feel judged, no matter our situation. If you’re a SAHM, you feel the shade your working sisters are throwing your way; if you are a working mother, you feel the side-eye directed at you from the SAHMs because you aren’t involved enough with your kids’ school and extra-curricular activities (sidenote: those feelings of being judged are likely all in your head; most of the moms I know feel judged, but don’t judge).

You’ve felt real anger about a child that you know only by name whom you are convinced is tormenting your child. But then, you also wonder if you are doing enough to raise your child to be compassionate and kind, because what if they aren’t?

And oh…those times when you’re not sure if you’re cut out for this parenting gig, you’re not sure if you love them enough…and they do something that brings you to your knees with gratitude and the knowledge that yes, you are enough.

Aging/Getting Older:

Another category that I received a ton of feedback on. So here goes:

You reach the point where hangovers last days instead of hours.

You realize how dysfunctional your upbringing actually was.

You come to the painful understanding that adulthood can be extremely lonely.

You mentally still feel like you’ve barely graduated college, and here you are trying to work and spouse and parent, and you are wondering who actually thought it was a good idea for you to be trusted with this level of responsibility.

You have little or no tolerance for anyone’s bullshit, and you finally shed the expectations you thought were foisted upon you. And if it affects your friendships or family relationships, so be it.

Acknowledging not only the “firsts” but the “lasts”. As in, this is the last year in my 40’s. This is the last time I’m going to drop my kid off at elementary school. This is the last mortgage payment I’m going to make. This is the last year my child is going to believe in Santa Claus.

Aging in general comes with no manual. Injuries and inconveniences earlier in your life can come back with significant and limiting consequences. You may feel like you’re 35, but one look in the mirror tells you a very different story. Staring at your reflection and thinking that you look tired, and then realizing that this is just your look now (raises hand).

Having the responsibility of caring for and/or about your aging parents or grandparents. There is no tried-and-true guidance for making the tough decisions or dealing with inevitable declines that happen as our parents and grandparents grow old.

So there it is. Some of it, anyway. As for myself, I may never get this whole being a grownup thing totally nailed down, but it’s not for a lack of trying. And when I put my question out to the universe, I was amazed and encouraged by how many people experience the same thoughts and feelings.

So what about you? What resonated with you, and what can you tell me that no one told you about? Please feel free to leave a comment! And if you liked this post, please share!

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven

© The Twisted Maven, 2019

The Time When My Baby Turned Ten

Ten seems to be the magical age, when your children are more formed than unformed…

“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

How is it that, having put a space of four years between my children, it seems that the milestones are occurring ever closer together? It feels like years, but also minutes, since I wrote about my oldest turning ten. That particular piece has been lost to the wind, maybe never to be retrieved. But in this case, it doesn’t matter, because my words to L the Younger don’t apply to L the Older, and vice versa.

Ten seems to be the magical age, when your children are more formed than unformed, and you can see glimpses of what their adult selves will be like, should everything go according to plan. I mean, nothing ever goes exactly according to plan, but you know what I mean. You can definitely sense who they are, in a larger sense.

My older girl, my ladybug, she has always been mature and not here for any bullshit. She is the kid who couldn’t wait to turn ten, then 13, now she’s 14 and in high school and I swear she’d skip right to college and beyond if she had the choice. Her personality was largely formed by the age of four, and I recognized then that her reticence, her determination that things were solidly either RIGHT or WRONG, and her ability to sense and absorb the thoughts and emotions of those around her would serve her well as she grew into adolescence and adulthood. I still feel that way. But navigating these teen years…well, that’s another post for another day, when I’m able to speak from a place of calm perspective. And that’s definitely not today.

But oh…my second child. My butterfly, who will extend affection to anyone who needs it, who only wants to see you smile, who wants to hug the world, who also easily absorbs the thoughts and emotions of those around her, but uses that gift very differently from her sister. Instead of using her sensitivity to lead, guide and advise, she uses it to comfort and humor those around her. She’s got charisma for days, along with a great capacity for love, a goofy sense of humor, and the desire to leave everyone she encounters a little bit happier than they were before.

However, she also wants what she wants exactly when she wants it, has no sense of time or urgency, and does not deal well with raised voices or even mildly harsh words.

She’s the emotional gauge of our household. If there’s any tension, she picks up on it, feels it acutely, and will act out because of it. If there’s joy, she embraces it wholeheartedly. If there’s anger, she gets sullen. If there is laughter, she’s right there in the middle of it. And she mostly does this without any knowledge of the context of these emotions.

She knows when I’m hurting, emotionally and/or physically, no matter my attempts to conceal that from her. Without fail, those are the moments that she comes to me with hugs, an invitation to read with her, and the need to be physically close to me.

She engages me in conversation, and always, and I mean ALWAYS, wants to talk about what’s going on in her world. School, American Ninja Warrior, Harry Potter, and America’s Got Talent are her favorite topics of discussion. Somehow, she makes these conversations engaging and analytical, as well as never-ending.

She is also an enthusiastic participant in activities outside of academics. She started playing the flute last year, and practices almost daily without being told. Sidenote: when her sister started taking guitar lessons, there was a demand that she stick to a practice schedule, and consequences when she didn’t. And lo and behold, she lost the desire to practice and her love for the instrument. So when L the Younger started with the flute, I let her set her practice schedule, and her love for music and the desire to improve has come along naturally. Lesson learned.

She just started her 5th season of Girls on the Run, which is also the first season that I haven’t been a coach. And by all reports, she is doing amazing, and likely much better than she was when I coached her team. She also loves basketball and lacrosse, mostly due to her sister’s influence, but I hope she embraces both of those sports going forward for herself.

Because she is my second-born, and because she’s still shorter than everyone else in my house, it’s sometimes a challenge not to think of her as a “little kid”, incapable of doing much of anything without my assistance. But, as she reminds me frequently, she is absolutely capable of doing many things without my assistance.

I can’t help but think, often, that I don’t deserve these two children to whom I gave birth to. I strive daily to be a good role model, a source of wisdom and comfort, and a good mom. I feel like they have outpaced me, already, in intelligence and in their desire to succeed in making the world a better place.

So to my “little” one, to my butterfly, to the one I wished for, for so long: these past 10 years have flown by, but I am grateful that I paused long enough to breathe in your baby moments, acknowledge the milestones that you’ve achieved thus far, had the ability to set a unsatisfactory career aside and participate more in your and your sister’s lives, and to show you what can be achieved when you follow your passions.

Also, I don’t want to put forth any platitudes about success, because they are mostly tied to monetary gain, and I want you to define for yourself what success looks like. I do hope, however, that success looks like exploring and finding what interests you, working hard, and being satisfied that you are a good human.

And lastly, thank you for all the love you give me, the challenges you throw my way, the time we spend together, your smarts, your chaos, your laughter, and for just being the best you that you can be.

I love you to the moon and back. Twice.

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe

The Twisted Maven

Fare Thee Well!

Moving on from Middle School is the Best Thing Ever.

This celebration is but a few years away…

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” – Seneca

An Open Letter to My Daughter Upon the End of Middle School That Probably Applies to a Lot of Kids This Age:

You did it, my dear. You made it through what most adults in our culture look back on and shiver with discomfort: The Middle School Years.

For most, 8th grade is/was the apex of awkwardness and angst. There’s these new gangly arms and legs that can cause a 13 year old to move like a newborn fawn, unsteady and with all limbs moving in different directions. Along with the feet and chins and noses that are suddenly out of proportion on everyone, the braces that make smiles look more like grimaces, and the dreaded acne breakouts.

And, oh…the daily embarrassment of simply existing. The absolute conviction that everything one says is unforgivably dumb and will be ridiculed in the most loud and public manner. The knowledge that everyone else is cool, confident and worry-free, so comfortable in their own skin, unconcerned about what anyone else says or thinks.

Guess what? Nearly everyone feels the same way, they just express it differently. Some try to shrink into the background, some try to overcompensate, some hide behind facades of their own construction, whether those facades project confidence, cruelty, or something in between.

Here’s what you may not realize; aside from all the super weird and challenging physical and emotional changes you’ve experienced, you have also learned a metric shitton. Yes, that’s a technical term, don’t question me.

Academically, you’ve effectively learned a second language; you’ve learned mathematical equations; you’ve learned about technology, history, grammar, science and well being. Your knowledge base is solid, and you will, going forward, build upon that base.

Socially, you’ve established a fluid base of friends. Friendships will wax and wane over the next few years, but you already know who is going to remain at your core, who has your back, who makes you laugh, who gets you, and vice versa.

Athletically, you have brought your game to a different level. You want to run, you want to bike, you want to play, and you want to compete. YOU were instrumental in your tourney games and getting your team to state championship. The players who tear up the field and score and play well offensively tend to get most of the glory, which is not undeserved. But you are bold and solid on defense, and I know that’s where you’re most comfortable. You play smart, you play physical, and watching you on the basketball court and lacrosse field brings me so much pride. You play with heart and ferocity. You didn’t learn that from me, it comes from within you, and it’s amazing.

I know you have your negative opinions about yourself, your struggles, your moments of anxiety and self-doubt. I know I will likely see less of you over the next few years, and you will share less with me, as you establish your confidants and social circle.

What you need to understand is that I am bound and determined to see you through to adulthood, and to make sure you are happy, safe, kind, productive and secure in the knowledge that you are loved. I have told you that this is my mission since you were a little child, and I mean even more now than I did then.

I make a lot of mistakes, every freaking day. I try to own them, with the thought that I am leading by example. What I won’t do, is apologize for who I am, in any given moment, which is also what I want to pass along to you. This lack of remorse on my part basically means that the sooner you accept and embrace me, the fewer struggles we will have. Just let me hug you every once in a while, okay? I know I’m uncool and dorky and embarrassing, and I’m okay with that.

So you can roll your eyes when I tell you I love you, you can make fun of me about all the things you think I don’t know. You can think and say out loud that I’m old and I understand nothing. But I’ll also be here to surprise you with the things I DO know; so when you snicker at some small reference and I ask you, “What?”, don’t assume it’s because I don’t understand…I’m testing you, to see if YOU understand.

But when it comes down to it, I know what I need to know. I know I birthed not one, but two future legends. I know you have great potential for success, as long as you don’t trip yourself up. Even if you do stumble, you can rise with the knowledge that I am always here and always have your back.

Also, because I need to include this in every single conversation we have, even if I’m the only one talking: you need to be nicer to your sister. She is your biggest supporter and most enthusiastic cheerleader. She takes whatever you say as solid truth, over anything I might say or do to convince her otherwise. So choose your words carefully, and understand your power to influence.

Lastly, I’m proud of you. I know you feel like middle school kind of sucked, but I hope you will hold onto the good memories that you made while there. You had some outstanding teachers who helped you ignite your desire to learn and excel academically. You achieved great things athletically as well.

The onset of the teen years is super not fun for either the teens or the parents, but I hope you know that I’m doing my best to navigate this territory. I understand when you don’t want to talk to me and when you don’t even want me in the same hemisphere, and I do my best to give you your space. I appreciate the moments when we have honest and candid conversations, because you are an amazing child, growing into an even more amazing person, who has so much to offer this world.

I promise the next few years will be challenging, but also rewarding. You really did make it through the toughest time, and it’s now your time to build upon your skills and knowledge as you journey on the inevitable path to adulthood. I believe in you, and I hope that in your times of both great triumph and struggle, you can feel me behind you, supporting you, whispering, “You can do it.”

Because you can, and you will.

I love you most.

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven (aka Mama)

© The Twisted Maven, 2019

Things You Need to Know, Child

“Sometimes the strength of motherhood is greater than natural laws.” – Barbara Kingsolver

Frequently, I get the impression that my children are not listening to much, if anything, that I say. Now that they are in the tweenish and teen years, I spend more time talking to the backs of their heads as they are on their way to doing something way more important than listening to Mama.

Sure, they do still talk to me, but our conversations are relatively brief, during dinner, just before bedtime, the fleeting moments we have on weekends when they’re not with friends/playing sports/ignoring me like it’s their job.

Side note: we do NOT have significant conversations in the mornings, because all of us are pissed off about being awake and having to do the things.

So, how do tell them things? Impart words of wisdom? Show how much I love them? Remind them that I’m onto their attempts at bullshitting me? Instill traditional and my personal versions of motherly intuition and intellect?

On the internet, of course! Because years and years from now, these words will still be out there to remind them of several possible things: that I was the weirdest and most annoying mother ever; that I totally outed some of their and my own most embarrassing moments; that I foisted unrealistic expectations upon them about academics, arts and athletics ; and I was so overprotective because I always wanted to know where they were and who they were with and what they were doing.

All of which is kind of true, but I really hope they see my words and are reminded that their Mama always supported them, encouraged them, pushed them to be better people, accepted them as they are, and above all, LOVED THEM more than anything.

I’ve written a couple of earlier versions of this, when I was blogging for a now-defunct website that I so loved being a part of. But it’s time for an update. So, without further ado, here is a list of what my children Need to Know, now and always:

1. I’m not stupid. You have your tells, and I know them.

2. Those times when I’m super frustrated with the fighting/defiance/attitude and I threaten to run away…you should take me at least a little bit seriously.

3. I make mistakes. A lot. But I do my best to set an example by owning those mistakes and saying the words, “I’m sorry”. Understand that that simple phrase, when warranted and delivered with sincerity, can make an immediate difference.

4. Saying “I’m sorry” when it’s NOT warranted can be damaging. Don’t ever apologize for your intelligence, determination, sensitivity, opinions, or actions you take to help someone or better yourself.

5. If an intruder or a fire or other danger ever enters our house, I will take care of you. I have obsessed about this enough to have put everything physically and mentally in place to ensure your safety.

6. Stop trying to compete with each other about who my favorite child is. It changes daily, mostly based on which one of you is the least challenging. But honestly, I will always love you BOTH more than you can fathom.

7. I had the two of you so that you’d be there for each other when I am no longer here for you.

8. I love you both equally, but differently.

9. Birth order has something to do with it.

10. I acknowledge and respect your desire for privacy. But if I walk in your room while you’re changing and I see your butt, don’t freak out. I have seen your butt countless times before. I know what it’s capable of. Seriously, I’m your MOM, so just chill.

11. I’ve forgotten all but the most basic of math equations. And I mean, if you’re coming to me with anything more advanced than long division, just don’t. Oh, but do circle back to me with geometry and statistics, because that’s my jam. Bother your father with trigonometry and algebra.

12. I will never stop correcting your grammar, word pronunciations, and sentence structures.

13. Same for table manners.

14. Don’t give in to peer pressure to drink, use tobacco, share too much on social media, do drugs or have sex. Yes, I know that is a long list. And yes, I also know that I was not completely honest about things when you were younger (e.g., when you asked me where babies come out of when you were four, I said they explode out of the mommies’ belly buttons like KA-POW! with tons of glitter and musical accompaniment), but I will have frank conversations with you about those topics listed above.

15. Some of the items listed in #16 are not completely verboten once a person reaches a certain age and/or maturity level. As much as I’d love to stop time sometimes, I also want to support your growth and maturation. This is a tough one, because I want you confidently avoid things like alcohol, sex and drugs for the next several years and maybe forever. I don’t want you to experiment with these kinds of things as your form of teenage rebellion. I’d much rather you skip school to go to a concert or Ferris Bueller the hell out of a day.

But bad decisions and dabbling in what seems risky are often part of growing up, and I know that. Please just know that I am always, always here for you, and I will collect you from any situation that you need to be collected from. I’m only minutes away.

You also need to know that I did some really dumb shit in my teen and early adult years, so if you ever think, my Mom will never understand…try me.

16. Brushing your teeth is actually really important.

17. Take care of your bodies. Feed, exercise and treat your body properly.

18. My job is to keep you safe, keep you healthy, and to do my best to make sure you aren’t assholes now and in the future.

19. Keeping your ears open and your mouth shut will enable you to gain more in knowledge, friendships, trust and valuable advice than running your mouth ever will.

20. I’m not your BFF, I’m not even your FF or BF. I’m your MOM. Tell me what you want to tell me and keep the secrets you want to keep (but know that I ALWAYS KNOW WHAT YOU’RE UP TO).

21. The exasperated looks I give your Grammie sometimes? You’ll give them to me. But you need to know that she has always been the MOST IMPORTANT PERSON in my life, along with your Poppie. My goal is to give you at least as much support and love as they gave me…and if you get that, you are a very lucky child indeed.

22. I will always have your back. It is one of the best gifts my parents gave to me, and I promise to give that gift to you.

23. You are smart, talented, strong and beautiful and can do anything you put your mind to. Just please value your mind above everything else. Never stop learning and never stop wanting to learn.

24. I. WILL. ALWAYS. LOVE. YOU. MORE.

My goodness, you two were, and still are, so beautiful.

Until Next Time,

Just Breathe…

The Twisted Maven

Job Loss = Life Gain

“The Universe will lead me to where I’m supposed to be.”

I agree that I am more than any career or job I may have.

“I am, after all, an adult, a grown man, a useful human being, even though I lost the career that made me all these things. I won’t make that mistake again.” – Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Losing a job can be, and is, so many different things. For some, it’s a wake up call. For others, it’s complete devastation. Or it’s an opportunity to explore new options. Or a door closing. Or the chance to retire early. Or the time to develop hobbies and work on languishing home projects. Or the loss of health insurance. Or the cue get back in the game. Or, perhaps, a combination of any/all of the above.

I’m no stranger to job loss. I started working at a very young age, and had about 15 different jobs by the time I graduated from college. But the first job I recall being fired from was post-college. While trying to find a job in my major, I took a job at a clothing retailer. I was a model employee; I organized the shelves and racks, assisted customers on the floor, processed purchases and returns, and followed the company guidelines regarding appearance and attitude to a T.

Then, one day I wasn’t feeling great but went to work anyway, and got progressively sicker during the day. It was a weekend shift, which meant it was moderately busy, and there were three of us on the floor. I hinted at leaving early because I was sneezing and coughing all over the cash register and customers, and I was told no. So, FINE, being the mature 21-year old that I was, I sucked it up and stayed. And then whined incessantly that I wanted to leave. Because of that mature 21-year old thing I had going on.

This apparently annoyed the “assistant manager”, who had literally just graduated from high school a few months earlier. That’s right, a large chain retail clothing store was left in the questionably qualified hands of an 18 year old boy, with a pissy barely adult me and an actual adult woman was just there for the paycheck. Whilst I was complaining about how awful I felt, the manager-boy came up to the register and told me to shut up and do my job. And not in a kind way.

Now, those who know me well can anticipate how I reacted to that. My own family members wouldn’t dare speak to me like that. And while I don’t remember exactly what I said, it was probably along the lines of “f*ck you”. What I DO remember is being told that if I was going to have THAT kind of attitude, I could leave.

It was a bluff, an attempt to shut me up, to humiliate me in front of the long line at the register. So I looked at the customers, looked at my fellow cashier, smiled at that child in his too-short tie and “assistant manager” tag, and walked out the door. Now that I think about it, I don’t know that it was so much getting fired as it was quitting. Either way, I never went back.

Believe it or not, I did manage to land on my feet after the Great Retail Walkout, and even crafted a relatively decent career that lasted for two decades. I even went to graduate school! Yay me!

But then, a few years ago, I had what could be described as a mutual breakup with my 20+ year career. Was I devastated? Yes and also no. The devastation came well before my actual departure, when the career I had spent so many years building stagnated and started to backslide, and I felt completely powerless. Once the self-doubt and despondency took up permanent residence in my psyche, I could no longer find joy or purpose in what I was doing. So to be honest, when I was offered and accepted a separation from my job, what I felt was relief.

After my career and I had our conscious uncoupling, life became very different. I was at home for the first time since my kids were born, which was equal parts wonderful and aggravating. The joy in being able to spend so much time with my kids was counterbalanced with…spending so much time with my kids.

Typical of when I ask to get a nice picture of the two of them.

I’ve also been able to take on various part time employment and volunteer opportunities that have been fun, challenging, incredibly fulfilling, and even life changing.

I’ve facilitated after school and summer science programs, which involves bringing the magic of science to elementary school children. I’ve been able to teach lessons about how our world works, along with engineering, math, the universe, light, heat, optical illusions, critical thinking, and the science of farts. Farts!

I’ve also worked as a substitute teacher, which has provided me with many memorable and enjoyable and eye-opening moments. To sum up: teaching math to 5th graders is hard, middle schoolers are kind of the worst, high schoolers are the easiest, and kindergartners, with all their snot and tears and nose picking, are still absolutely my most favorite people ever ever. Because they’re cute.

More importantly, I’ve been able to attend more events for my daughters, as well as volunteer to help with their sports teams and other activities. And one of the most important things I have been able to do is volunteer for Girls on the Run. Stay tuned for more about this amazing organization.

So while I was thinking about this piece, I listed out all of the jobs that I can remember, going all the way back to 9th grade when I packed rice containers for a Chinese restaurant. In addition to the jobs I’ve mentioned above, my working life has also included restaurants and bars, retail, the deli where I lost a small section of my left pinky in the meat slicer, offices, night club promotions (giving away cigarettes in bars at the Jersey Shore, circa 1992…holy moly do I have stories for weeks…), non-profits, freelance writing, editing, and transcribing, and who knows what’s next??

All told, there are over 20 different types of jobs that I’ve had, which makes the number of actual jobs that I’ve had total somewhere in the 30’s. That seems like a lot to me, is that a lot? I don’t even know.

At this point, I feel like I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up. But being granted the gift of time in order to explore what makes my soul happy and to dedicate more of myself to my family has been pretty incredible. Opportunities have presented themselves to my open eyes and ears continually, as recently as this week. While I’m not particularly into mysticism or other weird shit, I have been feeling like The Universe will lead me to where I’m supposed to be, and it will likely be nothing like where I’ve been.

Until next time,

Just Breathe…

The Twisted Maven