Christmas Has Been Rocked Forever

In more ways than I can count, my love of Christmas makes no sense.  Some people may and even do call my continued fondness for the holiday absolutely absurd.  My childhood Christmases were the opposite of the Norman Rockwell images and far from the happy Christmases we give our daughter. 

We’ve all met our share of people who hate this time of year and are counting down the seconds to the moment after New Year’s Day.  Some of the individuals who feel this way focus on what they don’t have more than on anything else.  I suppose I could’ve been the president of their “I hate Christmas” club, but I’ve always had the gift of hope.  No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some delusional optimist living in fantasy land.  I’m simply a die-hard realist who has seen the bottom fall out on numerous occasions, and I would be stupid not to revel in the finer moments.  

During the 2008 holiday season, we welcomed our daughter.  I spent five days in the hospital worrying about things at home.  As a person who detests leaving tasks unfinished, a month early delivery meant that we didn’t quite wrap up arranging the baby’s room, etc., but most of all, I worried about my three dogs.  I knew that our three-year old Chocolate Lab, Henry, who was always by my side, would be especially anxious.  He was concerned if I didn’t return home at my usual time, concerned if he heard my car pull up but didn’t see me soon after and concerned if I was anywhere without him.  When I returned home from the delivery, he gave me a very intense and concerned look as if to question, “Where has my mommy been?”  Although he treasured other family members, he and I shared an incomparable bond. 

In the early morning before Christmas Eve this year, my Henry passed away unexpectedly.  We have been preparing ourselves to make peace with losing our senior dog, Jake, whose health has been declining for some time and didn’t expect to lose Henry before Jake.  Henry was only eight years-old and had several tumors including a large mass in his lung.  As I rushed out of bed to get dressed for the 24 hour veterinary hospital around 3 a.m. on Monday, he followed me to the restroom, and a few minutes later, he collapsed and left us. 

I never cursed Christmas, because I knew that I should move forward from all of the other unfortunate incidents during past holiday seasons and be thankful for the blessings I had.  After all, it could have been so much worse.  Well, one of the worst has to be losing a baby who has gripped on to your heart, as Henry has on mine.  It’s impossible not to be haunted by our countless moments of wonderful, because he was the size of an 11 year-old child who was always by my side. 

Someone asked me the day after Christmas if I would take the eight years with Henry back, if I knew, in advance, of this outcome.  The response is, “absolutely not!” 

The wound is so fresh, and I am not at peace.  I’m not sure I will be soon.  During this solemn week, however, I still find myself giving thanks for what I have.  Hopefully, by next year, the joy in the true love remembrance that was given to me so generously will overshadow my sorrow and heartbreak.  I want to come out of this as someone who realizes how much she still loves Christmas.

Are You the Rarest of the Work Personalities?

I count my blessings every day, and on this eve of Thanksgiving, it is no different.  We’ve just celebrated the fifth birthday of our daughter, whom we were told we weren’t meant to have.  As a bonus, our very feisty and unusually bright senior dog who wasn’t supposed to see another Thanksgiving is on his bed right now barking at me to reposition him for the 40^th time today. 

As I wrap up a shorter work week that feels like it has been drowning in unfortunate news, it has become increasingly more difficult to ever sweat the small stuff. 

So, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge someone most people may take for granted.  I’d like to shine the light on the everyday hero who’s unnoticed in most workplaces.  But, before we get to that, let’s quickly run down some of the more notable work personalities that remind many of us why we love the workplace hero even more. 

Short-Term Memory Person (STMP)

An example of the STMP is the individual who has heard your idea ten times, but when he or she hears it for the 11^th time and usually from another source, the information is retained.  Only then does it become a “brilliant idea.” 

Sure, I get that many of us are performing a juggling act and have a million tasks to stay ahead of and manage, but many of the STMPs have less responsibilities than some of their peers and direct reports.  It also is common that they have a stay-at-home spouse.  Is it unreasonable to expect that the STMP exercise the courtesy of actively listening to others? 

Peer Who Needs Assistant

These individuals are similar to the STMP.  They can’t seem to do a lick of anything independently.  I’ve seen grown men demand that their assistants pour their Cheerios and milk.  I wish I were joking. 

God bless the assistants, because if it were not for them, the person in need of an assistant couldn’t manage a calendar or remember a single meeting, their first born’s med school graduation, nothing. 

As usual, they juggle less than you do, but somehow, they’ve justified the need for an assistant.  Thanks, “Out of Touch” manager.  See next personality. 

Out of Touch Manager (OTM)

The OTM is the boss who doesn’t bother to understand or remember what you do, in spite of historically high performance numbers, nor does this “leader” remember that you work late, come in early and complete work that’s outside of your scope of responsibility (and with enthusiasm J).  Therefore, this person has no idea how valuable you are.  Good luck! 

Perhaps what’s even worse is that the OTM never sees how useless the Peer Who Needs Assistant is. 

The HiPPO is the SME

As we all know, the highest paid person's opinion (HiPPO) isn’t synonymous with expertise on everything.  Therefore, this individual may have spent 20 years in magazine advertising and be the highest paid person in the room, but that doesn’t mean he or she should be signing off on UX and UI experiences.  Please stop kidding yourself and do the company and team a favor.  Trust your actual SMEs. 

The Workplace Narcissist (WN)

Oh, my favorite… 

Sure, we have to look out for ourselves.  A close friend of mine (excellent workplace hero example) has always questioned why business schools don’t teach some of the most important lessons to MBAs.  The lessons, to name a couple of examples, consist of CYA techniques and business politics navigation.  I cannot agree more. 

Although it’s one thing to self-protect, it’s another thing to ignore the greater needs of the organization and your team members to only self-serve.  The Workplace Narcissist never cares that you’re a great employee for the company and a potentially productive partner for him or her.  If you outshine him or her in any way, WN wants you out, and he or she will do whatever necessary to humiliate and impugn you to your boss. 

It never fails to amaze me that the WN is a parent.  Gosh, those poor kids.  However, it’s never surprising to learn that many WNs dislike animals. 

Workplace Hero (WH)

Yes, I realize there are many more work personalities that we can review, but this brings us to the Workplace Hero. 

The WH is, generally, the person who is seasoned and has been mistreated by the above personalities.  Somehow, this person still emerges out of the dirt as a thoughtful human being who is courageous enough to speak for the underdog.  He or she never fails to make decisions for the good of the organization and looks out for other good employees. 

Recently, one of my peers did something that left me speechless.  Although he has endured many years of b.s. politics and workplace injustices, he still doesn’t look out for number one.  Instead, he wanted to help me develop a strategy that aimed towards my continued success.  I’m in awe that someone would offer their time so selflessly for me. 

I’ve had the good fortune to work with a few WHs, over the years.  It doesn’t surprise me that some have become my dearest friends.  However, to the others, I want them to know that their generosity and kindness do not go unnoticed.  I may not be the sentimental, mushy type, but I am so thankful for these people for watching my back and the backs of others.  You are extraordinary. 

If you’ve been blessed to know the rare Workplace Hero, don’t take them for granted.

You Bet I'm Empowered to Take On a Bully

When I was in second grade, I dreaded the moment I left to catch the school bus until the moment I walked inside my front door.  Although my experience with bullies began before this age and hasn’t ended, this was a notable year.  I was tormented by mostly older bullies on the way to the bus stop, while waiting at the bus stop and on the way home.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t take sanctuary during school hours either.  My teacher that year also was a bully.  Every day, there were no less than three classmates on average who laid their heads down crying, because of this angry woman’s verbal abuse.  Even as a child, I wondered how she kept her job, given the numerous complaints from parents. 

The life of a tiger cub already meant that I was called out for every flaw.  I was too fat, not brilliant and inadequate in every way.   Once I stepped outside of my front door, it became much worse.  It seemed like bullies were trying to kill or at least physically hurt me constantly.  They would follow or chase me home, while using their fingers to slant their eyes, and everything hurtful and ridiculous that could be said to someone was said to me including the following:  

·         Your family should go back to China!

·         Chinese people are so ugly.

·         You are so ugly!

·         You’re stupid.

·         I hate Chinese people.

·         Your interracial parents are an abomination.

·         Your squinty eyes can’t see me.

·         My mom told me not to take food from your family, because it must be poisonous.

·         It disgusts me that a white man would marry your mother. 

My bullies came from every walk of life, ethnicity and age.  For them, I was simply “different,” and that was their reason for my torment.  For a long time, I actually believed that I deserved the ridicule.  If adults also treat me like I’m worthless, it must be so.  They know better, because I’m just a child.     

By the time I made it to sixth grade, I became quite skilled at defending myself physically and verbally.  Before I could do either, though, I learned how to run like Forrest Gump. 

Today, the children who are bullied probably have it worse than I did as a latchkey kid.  Unlike me, the bullying may not stop temporarily simply because they run inside, lock the door and hide in a closet.  Living in a virtual everything world doesn’t give them that luxury. 

 

 

I share a snippet of my bulling experience not for empathy or sympathy or because it’s National Bullying Prevention Month.  By the way, I love that there’s awareness around the issue.  I share it because my usual, “don’t be a candy ass,” take on life can’t be the go-to, when there’s another story in the news about someone losing their bullied child to suicide. 

The news about 12 year-old Rebecca Sedwick's three-year ordeal and suicide at a concrete plant is heart-breaking.  Her tormenters are only 12 and 14.  Sedwick’s parents did what they could, which included pulling her out of school, but the bullying didn’t stop online. 

I wish I could’ve pulled children like Rebecca Sedwick aside and tell them to hang on and to not let the bullies get the last laugh, because they certainly aren’t worth it.  As my husband says, “Even if the movie stinks, I have to know how it ends.”  

If the parents and teachers can’t or won’t help, as Sedwick’s parents tried to do, there is still hope. 

So, how did I get through this and emerge as a confident and resilient adult?  It wasn’t because I was a tough bitch since birth.  It isn’t because I have a thicker layer of skin than most.  It certainly isn’t because an adult stepped in to help.  I cried out for it so many times.  No one came to my rescue.  It was because I stuck in there, knowing that elementary, middle and high school weren’t eternal sentences.  I refused to allow the bullies to get the best of me.  If anything, I used the experience to help me reach my maximum potential. 

At the height of my bullying, I did not allow the frustration and anger to serve as my roadblocks.  Why would I want to support their opinions that I was worthless and stupid?   

I knew that one day, I would be in the position to take control of my life, and I used these emotions to fuel my determination to show the lowlifes what I was made of.  I knew that I could earn the gratification to have them eat their words, and this is what I want to tell these children to live for.  Live to see the life you want to lead.  Whether happiness for you means family, security or becoming the next great whatever, use the anger and frustration to go after it. 

Better yet…  Move so far ahead from this time in your life that by adulthood, you don’t even feel angry anymore and can hardly remember the faces of your bullies.  Move so far ahead that recalling a bullying experience for a blog posting one day will require digging far into your memory bank. 

This is not intended to sound simple, but I’m so grateful for my inner voice of encouragement that gave me the momentum to keep moving forward.  For the children who can’t find it, I’d be happy to serve as that voice and stand between them and bullies.

To Our Future Adult Daughter: Part I

To My Future Adult Daughter: 

I’ll preface this by stating that your overall health and happiness, which can pretty much cover a broad area, trump everything else for your father and me.  That’s right; your acceptance from Princeton is not the top priority.  So, assuming that you avoid struggling with a serious challenge such as illness, we ask you to please consider what I’m about to share. 

At this moment, you are a headstrong and bossy but thoughtful and generous four year-old.  We’ve tried not to look ahead too often at the future.  Instead, we take in every moment of your development, and every stage has offered many wonderful moments. 

However, it has become increasingly more difficult to witness the results of “adult” decisions and not say to ourselves, “Dear Lord, please don’t let our daughter be that flipping stupid.” 

At the very least, we hope the following will spare you from wasted time, energy and money. 

·         Please refrain from making unnecessary purchases, especially if you also complain about having limited means.

First, let me say that your parents do not object to tattoos, piercings, pedicures and the current technology trend.  As you already know, your father has a tattoo on his arm. 

Okay, so, I’d prefer that you refrain from tattooing or piercing the exposed areas, in particular, of your body, but that’s a discussion for another day.  The point I’ll make now is that accountability is important.  Please try not to spend money foolishly and whine to people about the inability to afford the necessities.  It will make you look like an irresponsible moron, when you’re homeless and hungry with a piercing on your face and 8 tattoos, unless you’re sharing this information with those who make similar choices.  In that case, you should question with whom you’re surrounding yourself, but that’s another topic. 

·         The high road is underrated.

You should always, always know your worth and defend it.  However, it is important to recognize the moments, when we should lean on a higher power, the universe or whatever to right what is wrong, instead of trying to take matters into your own hands. 

By now, I’m sure you’ve learned that karma doesn’t come for some people as quickly as you’d prefer.  However, sometimes, you have to walk away and trust that it will come. 

There are situations where it is better to be firm and opt for the high road than lose your temper, compromise your ethical standards and weaken your level of respectability.  Remember that a class act can be a difficult one to follow, probably even more so when you’re an adult.  It’ll be challenging to stick by this but try to trust your mother on this one. 

·         Don’t be an ignorant voter.

You’ll realize long before adulthood that your mother detests reality TV.  If you opt to indulge in reality shows, popular culture news and shows hosted by political satirists, that’s fine.  However, if they are your only sources of information, please don’t fool yourself into believing that you’re offering a valid opinion about the US and world events.   

Putting aside the reality that political discussions are rarely appropriate, if you do find a fitting moment, please make sure to self-educate before sharing an opinion.  That goes for every topic, though. 

With any luck, you’ll find yourself in my shoes someday, where you’re constantly faced with people who are obsessed with reality stars, read crappy books and only listen to one-sided discussions versus holistic facts, but feel that their opinions about what happens to your tax dollars are valid.  By the time you’re old enough to vote, hopefully, you also won’t be a single social issue decision maker. 

That’s where I’ll leave it today.  For now, I also should share that at this time in your life, you’re an expert at dropping in an, “I love you, mommy,” during the perfect moments, when you sense it may need to be heard.  It is always at the most hectic moment of mommy’s day, when she feels frantic.  I hope I’ll be able to identify those moments for you, someday, and provide you with a similar reality check. 

Love Always,

Mommy

Top 3 Lessons From Our Senior Dog

Three years before my husband and I wed, we moved into an Atlanta apartment, along with my long-haired Calico. 

Soon after we settled in, we wanted to adopt a kitten.  We were fortunate to live only a couple of miles from the Atlanta Humane Society, where we found one of the best cats who ever lived, Figaro (story for another time).

We had zero intentions to introduce a dog to our apartment.

A week after adopting Figaro, who was only maybe eight weeks old, it was time to bring him back to the Humane Society for a follow-up vet appointment.   For whatever reason, my husband and I decided to walk next door afterwards and look through the window at the dogs.

We peeked inside and saw what was to become our Jack Russell-mix puppy, Jake, sitting all alone, while a litter of at least six to eight of his siblings played beside him.  He seemed to pay no attention to them, while he continued to meditate or who knows what.  As we look back, it still feels like the moment was meant to be.

That day, something told us not to leave until he was ours.  We have never been the Black Friday deal-grabbing types, but our determination to grab this popular pup would’ve had our closest family and friends guessing otherwise.  After at least 30 minutes of struggling with other couples, he was OURS!  Ha!

I’ll never forget how we justified adopting him.  “Oh, he’s the perfect size for the apartment!”  We know, now, that the size makes no difference, in terms of destruction.  “Oh, look, what a calm and quiet puppy he is!”  We discovered in 24 hours that he must’ve been really tired, when we saw him at the Humane Society, because boy, did he perk up!

He and Figaro soon became the best of friends and brothers.  They did everything together and tumbled across the living room numerous times a day.  Soon, we also discovered that our Jake was a feisty and fearless little guy who intimidated much larger breeds even as a puppy.  He also valued his nap time… a LOT.  For the first couple of years, we assumed it was because he was young and needed his rest.  He reached far beyond the realm of puppyhood, before we realized that this could no longer be our go-to explanation.  The dude just likes to sleep.

Flash forward many years later, Jake is a grouchy old man, but we feel as if nothing has really changed.  Between the sleeping and the attitude, he was sort of that old man from day one.  We assumed we were taking a calm and sweet puppy home, and the puppy turned out to be a very spirited dog, instead.  No complaints.  We only love him more for it.  He fits right into this spunky family.

Jake is 14, suffers from arthritis, is incredibly demanding and needs a great deal of assistance to stand up.  He continues to eat well, and we are keeping him as happy and comfortable as possible.

Like anyone who has ever met similar obstacles, we have learned so much from Jake and this experience.  If the lessons of our wisdom can be relevant at all to you, allow us to share a few of them.

1.     That’s the spirit!

Jake may no longer have perfect senses and require mobile assistance, but boy, he hasn’t lost his gumption! 

He’s an alpha, through and through.  He doesn’t care if you think he’s small.  He’s a fearless, son-of-a bitch (literally and figuratively).  If he’s in the yard and the neighbor’s American Staffordshire Terrier comes outside, he will try his hardest to charge at him.  That is, after he receives proper assistance standing up. 

If I pass in the winter of my life, I pray I go out with my boots on the way Jake clearly will.  This is an extremely bright, old lad who can still learn new tricks. 
 

2.      If possible, strengthen your core and upper body.  You never know when it may come in handy!

When I began strength training years ago, I knew it could pay off for health reasons (or for the purposes of knocking a guy flat out in a parking deck).  After delivering an over ten pound infant, I was thankful for the years I put in because carrying her around, even now that she’s nearly five years-old, isn’t as challenging as it could’ve been if I had not put in the time. 

Jake is approximately 50 lbs.  Let me just say that picking up Jake is not like picking up a stationary, 50 lbs. bag of dog food.  I cannot imagine the number of accidents that could’ve happened, if I could not carry Jake outside with moderate ease.  It’s not just essential for restroom breaks either.  Jake requires assistance getting comfortable and going to the kitchen for the giant water dish, because evidently, water from anything else isn’t good enough.

3.      Relish in the final months, days, hours…

It’s difficult for my husband and I to take much for granted, least of all our final moments with Jake.  We certainly didn’t need lessons of the past to teach us the importance of gratitude, but we’ve had many. 

Like others, we’ve lost loved ones and fur children abruptly and unexpectedly.  We have faced the difficult decisions involved with putting down our dogs and cats and prayed that Jake will pass away in his sleep. 

Jake can appear ungrateful and very difficult, at times.  Let’s just say that he’s always been a vocal communicator.  It can be frustrating, when he demands to be repositioned, after I’ve already adjusted him during a hectic morning for the 20^th time.  However, I try to remember that he’s comfortable and has a healthy appetite right now.  This means that we won’t have to put him to sleep today. 

 
Our Jake has taught us so much as parents.  He became our dog, when we were in our early 20s and poor.  He loves us, wealthy or poor.  He only cares that he is loved and has been more than forgiving of our past and continued imperfections. 

When he passes, we will be forced to find a new “normal,” because it’s difficult to remember life before him.  I’m not sure what that will look like.  However, I do know that I am very grateful to have the privilege to be his mother.

Why Do Expecting Parents Want a Mini-Me?

When I worked for one of the top global agencies years ago, my team and I concentrated on a large campaign for a major personal care brand, with which almost everyone is familiar.  The campaign spotlighted the beauty of real women of all sizes and takes the audience's presumably low self-confidence for a positive spin.  Since it was launched, the brand has received a great deal of buzz and viral attention.


Every day, I come across another article or blog post about how the country's expanding waistlines, seemingly flawless celebrities. etc. are decreasing self-confidence and increasing depression.  It explains the success of diet plans and plastic surgeons.  Most people are their own worst critic.

However, if you look into the hopes of expecting parents, one of the first things you'll uncover is their desire for the child to be just like they are.  If so many people are self critics, why?  You hear fathers who want their sons to look like they do, play football like they do, what have you.  Mothers are the same way with daughters.

Deep down, are most people egomaniacs?  Why do they want someone to be just like they are, if they claim to be so flawed?

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was totally baffled by other expecting parents' desire for a clone.  I didn't want my child to be anything like me.  It isn't because I dislike myself, but I think I'm far from perfect and certainly not worthy of duplication.  When others asked why, I argued, "One of me on this planet is more than enough!"

I didn't want to have a daughter with my hair, looks and personality.  In fact, I wanted a boy.  Badly! 

I was a high risk patient who received numerous ultrasounds.  During a 13-week ultrasound, a seasoned technician asked if I was interested in her guess on the sex of the baby.  She could tell by looking at the pelvic area that the baby is a girl.  I hoped she was wrong but knew deep down that she knew what she was doing.  By the time the sex could be more accurately identified, it was revealed again that it's a girl.  My reaction:  Oh, shit!

Today, my daughter is four.  To my husband, she is, without a doubt, a mini version of me.  She has the same expressions, personality, hair color (down to the highlights), etc. as I.  In spite of all of this, I love her to the moon and back.  It may come back to bite me, when she becomes the teenager that I was, but it doesn't even occur to me, most of the time, how alike we are today.  To me, she has her own personality, and I relish in all of our little moments.

I am a confident individual, but I guess I don't love myself enough to want a carbon copy.  It's still a mystery to me why others do.  All I can say I guess is, good for you?

I Love Dogs More Than Humans: Part I

Okay, I love dogs more than most humans.  I won't bother to go into an explanation for people who believe that this statement is ludicrous (at least not right now).

What's up with the couples who have a baby and ditch their dog?  A nice high school classmate of mine started a Facebook group for our class, and one of the other classmates shared her blog.  Unfortunately, I came across a post she wrote listing the top reasons she wants to give away her dogs.  Apparently, she claims that she used to be a dog person, before her children entered the picture.  She supports this by discussing past experiences with a doggy daycare, trainers, whatever.  Now, they're a great inconvenience in her life, and she complains about stupid things, such as the reality that dog owners like herself have to remove poop that's stuck near their dogs' behinds.  Big freaking deal!

You're going to abandon your dogs, because it's annoying that your kids give you a play-by-play of their actions and the occasional poop on their fur?  Wow, way to show your dedication as a parent to a human.  You're not a dog person; you're an asshole, like most humans.  Welcome to the majority.

Yes, if you ditch your dog just because a baby enters the picture, my immediate reaction is to question your ability to parent a human well.  For the most part, I think the excuses are lame.  We've all heard the following:

• It'll be overwhelming to have a dog AND a baby at the same time.
• We are/I am afraid that our dog will be aggressive towards the baby.

Uncommitted candy asses.  I hate to break it to you, but you're going to need a big set to be a decent parent.  If you won't bother to apply simple preparation techniques to train the dog to welcome a baby into the home, good luck.  There's a solution for most of their concerns.  I just don't think they're dedicated enough to make them happen, so I suppose these poor dogs deserve a better pet parent anyway.  Unfortunately, some end up at the pound or in worse homes.

I sincerely hope these parents will be more committed to their human offspring(s)!  More so, I pray that dogs find the true love and loyalty they all deserve, because they give no less to humans.