Work Funk Prevention

I don't know about you, but after heading off to work everyday for an extended period of time, I start to notice that I gravitate toward basic staple pieces that I know are easy, comfy and functional. I make it a point to  avoid wearing the same outfit twice all year long, but that sometimes ends up meaning that I just rotate the same pieces over and over in slightly  different ways. I have a full closet of clothes that never get worn because frankly, I'm just not that creative at 5:30 am.

Today, I started putting together pieces I do not wear all that frequently so that when I reach for my favorite khakis for the 3rd time in one week, I have pre-generated ideas I can look at here, to get me out of that rut! This is just a start, but it's a start!

This sweater is very comfy and paired with navy pants, looks cute!

Again, with navy pants, lime green is cute!

 I never wear this shirt with a cute hip bow, and it looks great with navy pants.

 I have always loved yellow with navy pants too. I love my yellow pumps. 

It's a bold shirt, but with orange and navy, it's cute.

I love this green striped blazer and with a pop of red (shoe and necklace), I think it is cute!

I love coral. End of story. And a nude pump goes with anything!

I love navy blue and beige.

Pink and navy is fun.

You can get away with a simple t-shirt if you pair it with a solid capris and some knockout pumps! :)

Same pants, dressier shirt and shoes.

Same pants with sparkly flats.

A printed pant is fun, as long as tyou keep it simple on top!

But simple doesn't mean dull! #hotpink

I bought these pants for 99 cents at JCPenney. Someone thought the black and red checked print was too much, but that someone wasn't me~!

A variety of solid color cropped pants means I should be wearing more variety!

Printed patterns are so fun too.

I like plain pieces with a pop of color!

...like red shoes!

Polka dots. Yes, please.

I'm in love with this printed jacquard skirt. I've had it THREE YEARS and never worn it!

I love baby blue but it also washes me out, so a chunky necklace helps add color.

I like dresses with boots, but this one *might* be too short.

You can't tell me ANYTHING about myself in this high-waisted skirt. I feel like a million bucks!

Love this coral pairing with black and white skirt.

Who doesn't love YOU?

One of my favorite books to read with my classes is the play “FENCES.”

I absolutely love it and look forward to teaching it every year.

The kids love it because it has everything teenagers want in a book – a smart-mouthed teenager who feels disrespected by his father, a grumpy old man who loves dirty jokes and alcohol, and obvious themes of betrayal, deceit and lust. Plus, let’s be honest – it’s short. J

I love it because there is a scene in that book that gets me…every time.

As is true in many teen/parent relationships, Corey (the son) has trouble relating to his father (Troy). The two often struggle even to make pleasant conversation and don’t see eye-to-eye on anything.

In this particular scene, Corey is trying to get his dad to see his point of view and Troy is barely even listening to him – so caught up in his own views and logic, as we parents sometimes do.

At this point in the story, Corey says to his dad, “Can I ask you a question? . … Why you ain’t never liked me?”

Troy, ever the hard-lined old man, blows a gasket. “Like you?” he bellows. “Who the HELL say I got to like you? What law is there that say I got to like you?”

From there, Troy goes into a lengthy lecture about people who have a responsibility to you (i.e. a father’s responsibility to take care of his son), and how it shouldn’t matter who likes you, “as long as they doin’ right by you.”

My students and I always have a profound discussion about this scene. They are quick to explode at Troy.

“What kind of crappy father says that to his son? Poor Corey,” they bemoan. I always let them get their feelings out before I ask this:

“It’s true – a teenager like Corey probably wanted his dad to gush about how much he likes him, but what was the bigger lesson here? What was Troy trying to teach him?”

They never have any problem identifying the bigger message.

“Stop worrying about what other people think of you. Make sure people aren’t taking advantage of you; that is all that matters.”

As I teach this every year, I am always struck by how much I still need to work on this. Even as an adult, I tend to find myself upset or even angry when I feel that someone doesn’t like me. I ponder all the reasons why, whether they are justified, what I can do to change that impression…

This year, God has decided that, in the immortal words of Kevin Hart, I’m “gon learn today!”

This year, I have really been faced with the decision of how much to allow the opinion of others to affect my actions. This is not to say that a whole slew of people have suddenly come out of the woodwork to hate on me. Not at all! I am surrounded with kind, loving people with whom I enjoy spending time and I am constantly uplifted and encouraged. 

But there will always be the opportunity to question myself when I feel someone is undervaluing me, my strengths or my intentions. In those times, I must admit – I sometimes allow their perceptions to affect me.

I think when you are a person like me – someone who is introspective and self-analytical to a FAULT – you grow up believing that whenever someone thinks poorly of you, it must be something you did. It is usually a really great thing to step back and look at yourself and critique your performance. But in this case, it becomes an Achilles. It must ALWAYS be my fault.

This year, I have made the decision that, it’s not.

Sometimes, you know what? It’s THEM.

People who know me well know that I always say, “Nobody has the right to steal your character.” That means that even if others act badly, you have the right, the obligation, to do the right thing, according to your morals and beliefs. Otherwise, you have allowed someone NEGATIVE to pull you right down with them. 

This is no different. As long as I am causing no harm to others and staying true to my spirit, I shouldn’t be worryin’ bout who likes me. I “best be sure they doin’ right by” me.

And you know what? How arrogant to assume that everybody WOULD like me. I’m not perfect. I’m not SO SPECIAL that the WORLD is required to adore me. I’m just like anybody else- with quirks and bad habits and things to improve. People have the right to choose their own circles and I’m not required to be in them. As long as I’m working on being better every day, that’s all I can do. Making mistakes is better than faking perfection.

“What law is there that say I got to like you?” 

None. None whatsoever. 

A dozen reasons I love Pinterest.

So, lately I have been seeing numerous funny posts on Facebook where people have attempted Pinterest ideas, only to have them turn out to be utter failures. (*see below*)

I have to admit - I have had several of these myself and have cursed Pinterest more than once for making me feel like I have two un-crafty thumbs and cook blindfolded.  However, if there is one thing I can attest to,  it is the FASHION section of Pinterest. Whenever I need a new look or have an event, I immediately hit my keyboard to scour Pinterest and check out what looks have been posted. This has proven successful for me more than once, and I often find myself saying, "I would never have put those together!" 

Pinterest is fashion catnip for me.

Typically, I will find an outfit I like on there,  and assess three things:

1. Do I already own any of the pieces?

2. Would I make any changes for my own style/taste?

3. What are my chances of finding it at Goodwill/Savers or a resale shop?

More often than not, my answer to all 3 are positive. From that point on, I search for the individual items of that outfit whenever I am out, (even at Meijer!)  until I have located all the pieces. 

Look, I know this makes me a copycat. But I do not have very good ideas when it comes to fashion, on my own. I desperately need a starting point, which Pinterest gives me.

Thus, because I am a huge dork, and to prove that not ALL of the "Pint" is a fail, I have put together a compilation of some of my favorite Pinterest fashion success stories. Full disclosure- my favorites are the last two.

Here we go....

1.  I loved the yellow pop of this outfit, but could NOT find a yellow belt. Thus, I made do with a yellow scarf instead. I already had the silver pants and yellow pumps (some of my favvvvs). 

2.  This outfit was so simple, I already had the pieces in my closet. 

3.  Again, I had both of these pieces already, but never paired them together.

4. Whoda thunk of sequins over denim? 

                           

5. Love this one.

         

6. I find this awkward still. Trying to fix it...

7.   I don't look good in button-up shirts.

         

8. I don't have a pink blazer (yet?) and I don't like white skirts, so I tweaked this. 

 

9.  I was thrilled to find this skirt at Goodwill, after seeing this outfit. The blazer was expensive, but I have had it for a few years.

 

10. This isn't exact, but I used what I had.

 

         

11.  ONE OF MY FAV PINTEREST LOOKS. I was obsessed with this from the moment I saw it. After much searching, I found some cute shorts from the Victoria's Secret catalog and then got this shirt, which still has the tags on it. I just can't find the right place to wear it yet. 

 

 

12. I loved this look. Took me a month to find a similar blazer (on clearance!) but I love the look.

 

 

Ten Year Reflection

Sean and I are leaving for Mexico in 35 days for a much-anticipated, long-overdue tropical island vacation getaway for our 10 year anniversary, which isn’t actually until this June, but who needs “tropical” in June? February seemed much more rewarding, which is why we are going then.

Probably because of the pending anniversary trip, I have been thinking a lot lately about the last ten years. I cant believe it has gone so fast. It feels like yesterday that he was down on one knee in front of me, with a gorgeous, Princess cut diamond in a box, held by very wobbly fingers.

Since I have been so lost lately in my ten year memories, I am jotting down some of my absolute FAVORITE memories of our life together. These are those moments when he would do or say just the right thing and remind me how lucky I am to be his wife. 

Shortly before we got married, Sean and I were robbed at gunpoint in my apartment. He was pistol-whipped and I was dragged around by my hair and forced to give up all the money we had. It was terrifying. 

                *I remember when the detectives arrived to fingerprint my home, he asked Sean if he was okay, referring to the open head wound he was bleeding from, and without hesitation, he tearfully said, “No, I’m not okay. They could have hurt her and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” I was the only thing on his mind, despite BLEEDING from the HEAD.  

In 2002, we were married in June. We bought our house two months before our wedding and right after the wedding, we used some of our wedding money to buy the plans and wood for an enormous, gorgeous deck that Sean built on the back of our new home.  

            *I remember coming home on one ridiculously HOT afternoon where he had been working outside on it, all day in the hot sun, and I saw that he had power-washed “I will love you forever” into our new deck. It lasted the whole summer and I loved it.

2003 – Our most difficult year, to date. My first pregnancy ended in a rest stop bathroom and I was wrecked. Sean was so supportive during that time. I remember having to explain to my students at the time, after some time off, that I was no longer expecting a baby. I also remember one particularly difficult day when a student naively asked me, “What did you do to make your baby die?” after hearing I was no longer pregnant. 

*The next morning, Sean left a card on my windshield that said, “That one wasn’t perfect enough. You will be an amazing mommy.”

 

Eventually, obviously we did get pregnant again and I gave birth to beautiful, wonderful Quinn. Although this was the happiest moment of our lives, those first few months were BEYOND difficult. Neither one of us had any baby experience and we were tired, emotional and totally overwhelmed – with love, with worry and with fatigue!  I put my head down on the dining room table and just wept my eyes out one night. Sean begged me to tell him what was wrong and I struggled, in between gasping and sniffing and severe post-partum depression, to explain to him that I missed it being just “us.” I missed having dinner with him, and going on dates and feeling like a wife and not a milk machine. 

*That night, he made me stay in my bedroom. He took care of feeding Quinn and putting him to sleep and told me he would call me when I could come out. I heard strange noises and had no idea what he was up to. When he came to get me, I saw he had transformed our entire living room into a Hawaiian oasis. There were leis all over, drinks in coconut glasses, pineapple candles set out burning,  a hot plate of my favorite meal on a candle-lit table and even Hawaiian music playing in the background. “Tonight,” he said. “We are in Hawaii. Just the two of us, on a very special date.” He danced with me and made me feel like we were “the old us” again.

Of course, I was just learning to be a new mommy and not lose myself in the process.  That wasn’t the only time I “lost it” either. When Q was about 3 months old, I remember breaking down crying (I sound like I was a blubbery, weak mess a lot, don’t I?) one night as we were getting ready to go to some family party. My clothes looked terrible on me. I was too small to fit in my old maternity clothes and way too big still to fit in my “regular” clothes. Every book said that weigh loss after pregnancy can take up to a year, but I was impatient and feeling ugly.  He, of course, told me I looked beautiful and that my body was still changing and he said all the right things, but I was not to be consoled. 

                *The next morning, he woke me up, told me he had a secret plan and to get dressed. While I was getting ready, he dropped Quinn to my mom’s house and then whisked me off to a HUGE shopping mall in Michigan where he told me to buy whatever made me feel good. He knew that it would be a big waste of money (and it was) because my weight was still changing and I was still losing, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making me feel pretty. I bought a few new outfits, felt like a million bucks and even though I donated them to Goodwill a few months later, he smiled and said it was worth it. 

These are just some small examples.  There have been hundreds. Like the time he bought us dancing lessons, even though he HATES to dance, because he knew I would love it.  Or the time he nonchalantly told our priest that I had changed his life and without me, he knew he would have ended up in jail or dead. Or the time he made matching shirts for himself and Quinn, that said “MY WIFE/MOM ROCKS.”  Or the time he showed up at my school unexpectedly with a bouquet of flowers just because.  Or even recently, when he climbed up on the roof and sprinkled fake snow on Christmas morning because it was all I wanted for Christmas. Or how when we talk about other couples who are having difficulties, he always says, “Well, you and I are different. We have something special that those people don’t have,” and his words rest on my soul and reassure me that I’m NOT imagining it. 

I have lived 10 yrs of love that many women DREAM about. I am lucky, lucky, lucky. Lucky to be in love with someone who isn’t afraid to show me how much he loves me, all the time.  

Ten years. And we’re more obsessed with one another now than we have ever been.

Here’s to ten more!

Nothing profound

This post has no real purpose, other than simply having an itch to write/compose/create. As someone who grew up on stage pretending to be characters from the various plays/musicals I was in, I sometimes feel an overwhelming urge to pamper that side of my brain in creative ways. As a teacher, though, I must admit- I get to "act" all the time. I act EXCITED about a novel I have read 23 times and don't actually really like that much. I act enthralled by a student's horrendously LOOOOONG story, even though I already know in the first 5 minutes that it is going to end with some ridiculous fight and details about how hard she hit someone. I act out the parts in the various short stories we read, for purely entertainment purposes. Hell, sometimes I even have to paste on a cheery smile and act excited to SEE some of my kids.

Don't get me wrong. I love my job and my students remain some of the funniest, brightest people I know... for the most part. But I do have that one kid (or in this year's case, 5) who tests my patience every day, and for whom I have yet to find one=godforesaken redeeming quality.  "Good morning! I'm so glad you're here! I had heard you were suspended! Well, come on in! We have a lot of fun stuff today!" (inner monologue: holyhellnottodaywhytodayicouldhaveswornhewassuspended)

Alas- I digress.

Life in Petersville has been busier than ever. Quinn has started playing on a basketball team, which pretty much looks like football at this age - lots of hogging the ball and running (what's dribbling?). It's a hoot and he is loving it. My husband being quite the basketball star in high school sits on the sidelines, ever so patiently, DYING to scream things like, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! ARE YOU BLIND?! THAT GUY WAS WIDE OPEN!" but holding it in as he should.

Work has been a whole new can of worms this year. I would not be lying if I reported that this year has been my MOST challenging year to date, including my very FIRST year, which made this one look like a trip to the circus. I have started teaching the "babies" again, as I call them (i.e. sophomores) after 4 yrs of having a strictly SENIOR schedule. I clearly had gotten rusty at how to manage the youngins. I cannot believe I still have to say things like "We don't flick boogers on people" or "Don't make me put your name on the board." I came home every night for the first 2 months and literally collapsed. I have one particular class of misfits who include jailbirds,3 time-repeaters, ADHD poster children, pharmaceutical specialists and 8 month pregnant girls who still say "ax" instead of "ask" and "LI-BERRY." Now, however, dare I say, I am enjoying it? I have FINALLY established a working class order where they know I am Head Hefe and they aren't. And I kind of like them a little bit... okay, I love them.  This would be my classic "I'll wait..." pose to get them quiet:

                                                      
Sean and I leave for Mexico in exactly 60 days and I couldn't be more excited. I can hardly believe it has been 10 years since we got married. It has flown by in the blink of an eye and I wouldn't trade a moment of it- even the harder years. I can't tell you how many times we have both commented how lucky we are to have the friendship we have. I look at some unhappy women my age and I can see that their relationships aren't friendships. They are partnerships, sure. But let's be honest - I have a partnership with my gym. I need more than that to sustain me, and I am so lucky to have it. When I look at this picture, I cant believe how much I had NO CLUE what great blessings were in store for us.

That is enough for tonight. I had a profound thought earlier this week that I would like to expand into a blog, but for now, I will only say this... I cannot BELIEVE how much of my EARLY life was preparation for the life I live NOW. There are so many examples of how God laid a path for me before I ever even knew it - experiences I had that have come in so useful now, knowledge He planted in me juuuust before I would need it, love He taught me to show for people who would benefit... I have never doubted that God drives my life - but it hit me last week just HOW much He set me up to succeed. Crazy.

Love and blessings for this holiday season!!

From the mouths of babes...

So, yesterday, my husband and I received some bad news - news that we had heard was coming, but until 11am yesterday, was only speculation.

We received a certified letter from our mortgage company, stating the FEMA had randomly and arbitrarily decided that our street is now located in a flood zone. Mind you, the propery was built in he early 1970s and has NEVER, not once, EVER had a drop of water standing on it, but FEMA considers this just insignificant detail and has given us 30 days to pony up flood insurance to the tune of $1200 year.

More than the extra $99/month added onto our expenses after a nearly 8% paycut from my job, we are devastated by the fact that the odds of our home selling at a decent price are now slim to none. Let's face it- who is going to buy our home at a fair rate, knowing they ALSO have to shell out an extra Benjamin in totally unneccesary flood protection? They arent.

We had a 3 year plan that included waiting for the market to turn slightly and getting out of our house and into a new one. Now, for that to happen, we will almost certainly have to sell our home for LESS than we owe and take a total hit, thereby severely limiting our options, as far as a newer, better home.

From the moment we both saw the letter, we were outraged. I did what I do best and cried. Sean did what he does best and flew completely off the irrational deep end, cursing the government as crooked and demanding we move to Mexico. For real.

We both fell into a pity party that lasted a good hour and included the following:

*further discussion about moving to Mexico
*disgust at the totally brazen way the "good guy" always gets screwed
*FEMA bashing
*consideration of the option of just saying "Screw our great credit history" and walking away from the house altogether, just to stick it to FEMA

                       AND FINALLY....

*my suggestion that we fight back and dispute the sudden change in requirements. Sean quickly refuted this, saying that it was impossible to win against a huge corporation like FEMA. "It will never work," he said. "They are in the hole after what happened with Katrina, so they changed their guidelines to force more people to have to pay them." I suggested we gather our whole block and try to host a group effort to contest the ridiculous changes, and again, Sean reiterated how futile it all would be, the money it might cost to fight back and ultimately, how FEMA would still win anyway because the government always wins.

During all of this, we had been unaware that Quinn was listening to every word. All of a sudden, a little voice said, "Daddy, can I say something?"

Surprised, Sean told him to ahead, and Quinn said,

"Well, it's just that David fought Goliath. And Goliath was way bigger and stronger. But David still won, because when you have God on your side, you always win. Right?"

Right, buddy. My sweet little boy.

We have a land surveyor coming out this week to have our own assessment done... because what does it hurt to fight Goliath when God is on your side?

Don't worry. Be happy.

I worry.

Hmph. When stated so simply, it seems so non-threatening.

I assure you, though – that statement has pretty much dictated my entire life. In fact, I’m not sure the words “I worry” even fully encompass what I mean.

I dwell. I wonder. I obsess. I lie awake. I toss and turn. I play out scenarios. I tense. I am consumed.

Those are closer. To say that I worry is as big of an understatement as saying that Donald Trump has spare change.  I fall into the depths of the “what if” despair daily and although I am able to function quite normally, the knot in the pit of my stomach grows every day.

Examples.

We took Quinn to an amusement park – a bona fide amusement park – not one of those “put-together-by-rubber-bands-in-the-mall-parking-lot-carnival”  jobbies. A real amusement park, mandated by state laws and safety checks and thousands of satisfied , gleeful riders every day. He was completely un-terrified and wanted to ride every single ride, (including upside down ones) front car, every time. I was happy about this, considering I had spent the majority of my life too afraid to even get CLOSE to a roller coaster and never wanted him to know that kind of fear.

So, did I enjoy our day, as he exploded with joy and energy and fun, riding everything for which he was tall enough? Oh, no.

I worried.

What if the ride breaks? What if that hinge comes loose? What if the safety belt snaps? What if his harness isn’t tight enough? What will I do? Are there doctors on site? Where is first aid? Would it even matter?

My mind raced faster than any one of those coasters, totally irrationally.

And it isn’t only Q. I worry about people I don’t even know. God help us if we drive by someone homeless with a “feed me” sign. I can pretty much guarantee you that at some point, as I am lying in bed that night, I will wonder (and worry!) about whether or not someone fed that poor soul.

My family. My job. Stories in the newspaper. Weather. You name it, I will worry about it.

I have always been this way, but it has definitely gotten worse in the past 2-3 years, and because I knew it wasn’t healthy, I tried to fix it – did some yoga, practiced meditation, tried an herbal remedy and ultimately, saw my doc.

She says that this is completely normal in women ages 29-37 (obscure ages?) and that hormonally, we ebb and flow in the worry department. She says in a few years, I will likely “return to normal” which I find questionable, as I was never really ‘normal’ to begin with.

We are working together to discover a remedy to my angst, and I am hopeful that we will find it.

Until then, I will be over here, worrying about it.

J