A Matter of Perspective

I'm not usually important enough to attend meetings at work.  Despite the fact that I am one of two engineers here at my place of employment (the other one being my boss and the owner of the company), I fall so lowly on the hierarchy of importance that most people don't even know my name.  And, truthfully, I like it that way.  I am content to do the work anonymously from my corner of the building.  I am happy to let my boss take credit when I do a great job, and even happier to let him take the blame in the (rare) event that I should mess something up.

Yesterday afternoon, however, something happened.

My boss appeared in my doorway.  (I hate it when he does that.)  And said, "Jennifer."  (I hate it when he calls me that.  Yeah, yeah.  I know it's technically my name and all, but it just feels like I'm about to get in trouble.)  I looked at him and smiled.  He continued, "You've been summoned to a meeting tomorrow.  It's no big deal.  Just a status thing.  You shouldn't even have to say anything."

Well that wasn't the case.  At all.  I had to say lots of things, answer lots of questions, and in front of a large-ish crowd of people I've never met.  And the best part is that they had saved me a seat at the very front of the conference room table.  I wasn't prepared for it, but I got through it.  Another of life's little rites of passage.  Hey, I even elicited a laugh from the room at one point.  (And we all know that's my singular measure of success in life.)  But those things are not the point of the story.

All of that was just to get us into the meeting. 

Each of the people sitting around the table had been grilled by the city manager, excepting one - the Fire Chief.  At the end of the meeting right before commencing things and letting us go, the city manager realized he hadn't put the Fire Chief on the spot yet, so as not to exclude him he said, "How about you?  Why haven't you gotten any grants yet?"

I had less than nothing to do with the discussion on fire-related grant money, but since I was there, I listened. 

The Fire Chief calmly smiled, obviously unshaken by the spotlight.  (There was no signature nervous laughter, like that incessantly offered by yours truly.)  He said, "It's not that we aren't trying.  But here's why we can't and probably won't get any.  One of the four requirements for receiving aid is the county unemployment rate.  In that regard, we're doing just fine."  To which the city manager replied, "We're right at 6%.  That's going to hurt us."

(Fun fact:  In actuality, our county is at 7.3% - much lower than the state average of 9.9% and the U.S. average of 9.5% for June 2010.  Data courtesy of the Bureau of Labor Statistics.)

That's when it hit me.  (And "it" usually does hit me in the most unusual of times and places.)  "It" was another reminder of how blessed I am and my community is.

I work in an industry that is heavily dependent on growth.  Growth is something that, in most places, came to a screeching halt as a result of the economic downturn of 2008.  Our community was a hot bed of growth of residential and commercial varieties, of staggering proportions even, so when it stopped almost overnight it seemed so very dramatic.  And it was.  I don't mean to diminish the fact that our area has been hit hard.  It's just that, in the grand scheme of things, we're actually doing quite well.  (Relatively speaking.)

Okay, so what's that point again, you ask?

The point is that this time last year, I just knew I was going to be out of a job by Christmas time.  By Christmas time, I just knew I'd be out of a job by May.  And yet, here it is July, and I am still gainfully employed.  Those thoughts were the product of a pessimistic buzz...around town, in the industry, by my boss, on every national news website.

Every time, so far, it looked like we were going to have to close our doors, a random phone call came in with a job that kept us plugging along.  It has literally happened this way.  I wholeheartedly believe that this has been God's direct answer to prayer, and one of the benefits of working for a good Christian man.

I could (and often do) lament the fact that I am grossly underpaid, that I haven't gotten a raise in four years, that there is almost no opportunity for me to progress in my current position, BUT (a big one even) I am also still grateful to have the job that I have.  Because it is a job that I don't hate, that may only be a stepping stone in my career, that is helping me grow.

The economy/job situation is grim, I shouldn't say it isn't.  But how much of it is what we think and not what we know?  How much of it is something we can control and shouldn't worry about?  Or that we can't control and still shouldn't worry about?  How much of our whining and complaining is warranted when there are so very many others in much grimmer situations than ours?

While I understand the city manager's perspective on being "hurt" by our (relatively) good unemployment rate, I say, let's hope it stays that way.  Shoot, let's hope it goes down even farther.

Let's try to see blessings for what they are -

Blessings.

A challenge for today:  Consider something in your life that seems like an impediment, put on your rose-colored glasses, and see it as a blessing.  And if you're so inclined, share it with me.  It's amazing how a little perspective shift can change our entire outlook.

Mom Things (on no sleep - this should be a real treat)

What is it like to drive 764 miles overnight with a husband who turns violently ill at the halfway point?  Oh oh, pick me!  I can tell you!  It's bad.  Very bad.  (Mostly for him.  Poor guy.)  My hero of a husband, who was so determined to get home, even took a turn at the wheel between queasy spells to let me grab a nap after the sun had risen and my eyelids wanted nothing more than to set.  A trip to the ER, an IV of fluids, a dose of Zofran, and a to-go cup of water (oh yes,  a dead car battery and a teary Jennie at 3:45am) later, he is feeling much better.  Not perfect, but better.

It was just like having a little one sick.  I felt so very helpless.  (Lesson learned though...next time, I'll know to be meaner about getting fluids in him.)

So that's where I've been.  At least for the last 36ish hours. 

Now I'm back.  (Phew.)

And without further ado, I give you today's installment of "How to Know You're a Mom-isms" -

You've questioned your decision to let your toddler play with the old remotes and cell phones.  It's hard explaining to a 13 month old which ones are for playing with and which ones are still functional (so keep your greasy paws off).

Maybe you were wrong when you insisted kids aren't like dogs.  After all, your 13 month old keeps the floor clear of crumbs (no matter how old and/or inedible) and trees you at the first sight of food, begging for a taste and hoping you drop some.

Speaking of things inedible, you've learned that the strangest things can be choking hazards.  Like nerf balls.  Who knew?

And speaking of kids kind of being like dogs, you've discovered that, sometimes, they use the same modes of transportation.  They are about the same height as each other.

You were absolutely thrilled to discover that all it took for your daughter to outgrow her vehement fear of all-things-fireworks was the passing of a year.  In 2010, instead of cowering in fear at the booming of fireworks and light spraying from sparklers, she happily commentated and participated.  Your baby is growing up.

You play a version of "Where's Waldo?" with your kids' security blanket/beloved piggy/random object required for sleeping when looking at your family photos.  The things seem to always be present somewhere.

You've learned that there is a fine line between tired and overly tired.  And you also have learned that you do not want to cross it if you wish you get your kids to bed in an easy and timely manner.

Your son reacts to an empty stomach and lack of sleep in the same way you do - by turning into his own version of Mr. Hyde.  Not typically the type of situation where you'd want to proclaim, "That's my boy!"...but you totally could.

Thanks to generous pediatrician offices & haircutters and their free lollipops, you have to keep an extra close eye on your candy-loving three year old in bulk sections of grocery stores.  "No, no, Abby.  We have to buy those.  (So put it back.)"

You have learned that not all kids will sleep in their carseats.  And on the rare occasions that they do, you must drive without accelerating or braking.  Pesky actions like those only seem to wake them up.

There you have it, folks.  I'm linking up today at:




And as always you're welcomed to check out the Mom Things Archives.

She has the patience of her mother.

It's true that pictures are worth a thousand words.  The pictures might not be photographs, but they could be.

For instance, when I see these pictures of my Abby, it seems it would be possible to learn everything there is to know about her, even if I didn't know her like the back of my hand.  Whatever conclusions you might draw from viewing these select photos - they're probably true.

She's sunshine, mischief, sensitivity, and fun all wrapped up in a single package.  She's simply Abby.  And sometimes there aren't enough words to be able to describe someone.  This hold true for my precious, spirited middle child.

Sometimes, though, a picture in the form of artwork sums up a child just as well as a snapshot - as perfectly exemplified by a frog that Abby colored in school this week.

You can only contain her in the coloring realm for as long as she determines.  After that it's "I'd rather be jumping off of/swinging on/running around something.  Let's get this over with."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my Abby.  In a nutshell. 

Mom Things - Happy 4th of July (a wee bit early)!!!

It's Wednesday again.  I have to admit this is one of those weeks where I am wishing my life away.  I will be out of town this weekend, and most likely skipping on Flashback Friday (again).  Try not to be too disappointed.  (winkety wink)

Hate to be all brief, because that's SO out of character for me, but I'm uber-frazzled and just trying to keep my head above water.

Without any additional verbiage between here and there, I give you the Mom Things -

All of your daughter's drawings (whether the subject is you, her, or a cute little bunny) have two things in common:  (1) They look like jellyfish/amoebas/octopi, and (2) They make you smile.

After frantically getting the kids ready to go one morning, you make it as far as the lobby of the daycare before your daughter throws up.

At this point, your juggling skills are put to the test as you successfully carry a sick three year old, a squirmy one year old, and all of their loose Monday morning accoutraments (blankets, extra clothes, a sippy cup, and a bottle) that you didn't have time to put into a bag before you left the house back across the parking lot to your car.  These are the moments that make you feel like Superwoman.

You understand the seriousness of your daughter spilling an entire can of tomato sauce on her blankey at 10 minutes till bedtime.

While slightly quirky, you think your one year old's obsession with her belly button is cute....until it transfers over to her wanting to see everyone else's belly buttons.  There's something less cute about her lifting your shirt and bearing your belly to the world.

Your three year old ate every bite of this and then got sad when the waitress took the bowl away -

...on the heels of a carnivore-for-an-older-brother, this rendered you completely speechless.  And proud.  (Consumption of lettuce in any form - even that of a caesar salad is a success in this household.)

Despite having 31 choices of ice cream varieties at Baskin Robbins, you have at least one child who opts for vanilla.  Every time.  (And usually ends up having to share with his more adventurously choosing little sister who, ultimately, after a few bites of hot pink ice cream with bits of bubble gum in it, decides that she likes vanilla better.)

Every once in a while you feel one of those phantom kicks in your belly, and it instantly takes you back to the time when you were carrying those babies around whilst all sweaty, achy, constantly peeing, and sleep-deprived.  And it almost makes you want to do it all over again.

After your thirteen month old uses your shin as a step stool to climb onto the coffee table, you realize that with each successive child these adventures start a little sooner.

You have walked into your baby's room to find her crib completely empty.  After images instantly and furiously flash through your brain of someone coming into your house and stealing her out of her bed in the wee hours of the morning, you look down to see her happily playing with some toys on the floor.  That's when you realize it's time to upgrade to a toddler bed.

If I'm not back, hope you all have a Happy & Safe 4th!

Happily linked up and sharing this post at...

I'm not perfect, but that doesn't make me a failure. (Does it?)

It has been a whopping five days since my last post, and I can feel my skin starting to crawl from the inactivity.  Just kidding.  My skin is starting to crawl because I haven't had a shower in a week.  Just kidding.  I'm just having a more scatter-brained than normal experience here lately and I can't seem to find the energy, motivation, or wherewithal to do anything on top of that which is absolutely necessary.  Just kidding?  (Unfortunately no.  That last part is true.)

[Because I'm random, if you want some seriously funny "Just kiddings" check out Kristen Wiig as Judy Grimes on SNL.  Here's a link, but there's no telling how long the video will be active.]

So what was I talking about again?  See.  I'm a mess these days (or maybe I always have been and I'm just now noticing it). 

I've talked about successfully forcing myself to "let go" of some things.  You may remember these pictures of the laundry room.  (Warning:  The following may be completely overwhelming to view.)

Of course, it's hard to truly determine what constitutes success when it comes to letting go.  The "problem" is that not one day after patting myself on the back for achieving "let go" status, I set up the ironing board for a marathon ironing session that got rid of all the clothes hanging on the doorknobs and the molding, and even a few from the overhead rack above the washing machine.  Because it was making my skin crawl.  I couldn't sleep thinking about all of those clothes hanging in there waiting to be ironed.  I couldn't bear to do any more laundry because I knew it would just end up being added to the hanging purgatory of un-ironed clothing.  Needless to say, the hamper was running over.  There were piles of dirty laundry on the bathroom floor.  And all I was doing was averting my eyes.

There has to be some kind of balance between this so-called letting go and my typical reality.

My reality and true problem is this - I have an All or Nothing mentality.  If I can't do it all and do it perfectly, I don't do it (nor do I want to).

I was driving in my car the other day, and I heard a commercial on the radio about this very topic.  I have no idea if it was some kind of public service announcement or if they were actually trying to sell some sort of product, but the gist was this:

Being perfect doesn't work.  Looking at life like this means there are only two options:  perfection or failure.  And since no one is perfect (and never will be), this means that those of us who strive for perfection end up feeling like failures.   

All of the time.

I am sorry, but that is just not acceptable.  I don't want to live like that [anymore].

I have always had the desire to do things well.  And if I can't do them well, I not-so-subtly opt out of the activity.  The list of these things-at-which-I-don't-succeed has grown over the years.  There's skiing, drawing, conversing casually on the phone, playing basketball, understanding time zones/time changes, almost any kind of right-brained activity, and (most regrettably) cooking.

I'd like to say that I've had some sort of big epiphany, but it's not so much that as I just don't want to live life feeling like a constant failure anymore.  That sounds a lot more dramatic than it really is.  I'm not down in the dumps or anything.  But I am relentlessly hard on myself, and I'm giving myself permission to screw up from time to time.  From here on out.  I've accepted that I will have failures, but fear of them is no way to go through life.  Failure is part of growth.  And by eliminating things from my life, I am robbing myself of potential joy.

Like learning and loving the seemingly right-brained art (that is also a left-brained science) of photography:

Like coming in 70th in a 5K:

Like even attempting to use a sewing machine to make a present:

There's untapped potential in there.  I might not be the next David Muench, Kara Goucher, or Amy Coe, but how can I know unless I give it the ol' college try?  I'm nothing more than a quitter if I tell myself "I can't."  And that's not the example I want to set for my kids.  I can.  I will.  And at the very least, I will try.

Next on the list of things-I'm-not-automatically-good-at-so-I-automatically-hate is cooking.

I'm a terrible cook....or am I?  Maybe I just haven't spent enough time up to my elbows in cooking oil, vegetable peels, and spices.  Maybe I made one bad thing when Sam and I first got married (peanut butter chicken in the crockpot - BLECH!), so I wrote off cooking...for the rest of my life, apparently.

I am eternally grateful for a husband who cooks (and cooks very well I might add), but traditional gender roles aside, I want to be able to cook.  I don't want to dread this necessary part of life because I've told myself I'm not good.

Geez, when I put it down in words it sounds ridiculous.

This is where you come in, readers.  Help me become a better person and a better cook.  What are your sure-fire, go-to, not-too-difficult-for-a-novice recipes?  I need encouragement...and a starting point.  I'm counting on you!

Thanks, as always, for reading and letting me drone on and on about my own personal brand of crazy.  I hope one of you can relate.  And if so, I'm letting you off the hook.  We're in this together.  Here's to putting aside self-doubt, having new experiences, and discovering new passions!  There's so much to this life - let's not miss out!