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Posts from the ‘Letters to my son’ Category

Oct 1

7 Comments

Baggage

Dear Loch,

When I talk about baggage I’m not talking about the Tumi 4 wheel luggage I wish I could afford, but about the metaphysical baggage we lug around that become part of our personality. I’m talking about issues, perceived wrongs and past experiences that weigh us down. I’m talking about things that happened in your past that go on to dictate your future, and I’m talking about it because it’s not a good thing.

Man I love this bag. Why it’s $1200, I’m not quite sure.

Metaphysical baggage needs to be checked. It needs to be put down and left, but unlike real baggage, it should never be collected again. Root through it, take what you can use (like wisdom and knowledge) and walk away.

Bad things happen, they do and it’s terrible, but it’s important that you’re able to move on. You can’t live a happy, fully functioning life while carrying the scars of your past traumas. Eventually they start dictating both your personality and decisions. Old wounds should not dictate new relationships. One person is not another, and just because something happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again. In fact, the more you fixate on history repeating itself, the more you move towards creating a self fulfilling prophecy.

Your Dad and I have a friend that was burned once by someone he trusted. It screwed him up to believe in someone whole heartedly and be betrayed. The problem is, he is unable to let it go, and that inability or unwillingness has made him a skittish person, quick to think the worst of people. In many ways he’s lost the ability to trust and for that everybody suffers. The actions of one person dictate how he sees all others. He’s so weighed down by his past that he’s become defensive at the slightest perceived slight. A past friend’s actions have made him guarded and overly sensitive to new friend’s behaviors and it’s a tough road to climb.

emotional baggage at positivetosuccess.com

Imagine your girlfriend cheated on you  and you carry that fear into your next relationship. You become hyper vigilant and accusatory, convinced the same thing is going to happen again. The new girl has done nothing to deserve your lack of trust. It’s not her fault you were betrayed and it’s not her problem to deal with. Eventually you’ll drive that girl away with your fear and nerves. What you needed to do was learn from the first incident – ie. I could have spent less time at work, I could have paid more attention to her, I shouldn’t have dated a tramp, whatever the lesson is – chalked it up to life, and moved on. If you carry the baggage with you, you are not only unable to learn from it, because you have no distance  to gain perspective, but you are unable to move on from it. You create a pattern in which all future relationships have to live up to or prove themselves against and it’s unfair and unreasonable to expect people to do that. People do not deserve to pay for the mistakes of others, and it’s on you to make sure they don’t.

If you’re hurt baby, I’m sorry. I know it can be devastating, but you must allow yourself to heal so you can get on with your life. Don’t expect to be burnt again. Take your lesson, store it, and leave the pain behind. Try to enter all new situations with an open heart. Trust people until they prove untrustworthy. Innocent until proven guilty isn’t just for the courts. It’s not naive to expect the best in people, it’s hopeful, and often people will rise to the occasion to justify your trust. If you expect the best from people you might find yourself disappointed but you won’t find yourself jaded. Disappointment you can move on from, jaded is a state of being, and not a particularly great one. Jaded people may be burned less, but they enjoy less. Jaded people, the one’s who refuse to “have the wool pulled over their eyes”, who protect themselves from hurt at all costs, are never able to fully relax, to truly enjoy. By not seeing the best in others they are unable to be the best versions of themselves. You have to put yourself out there in order to reap the greatest rewards.

Don’t be this gal from connectedbygrace.wordpress.com

I’ve been burned a number of times in my life but I’m very happy. No matter what’s happened to me, I’ve always believed things were going to work out. I believe that with my health, with my career and I believed that with my love life. For all the horror stories and ridiculousness that came before your father, I never lost hope. I never stopped believing I was going to find the right person, I never changed my mind or decided to settle (despite my mother’s suggestions). I fully committed to every new love whole heartedly, and though I was disappointed every time, I never gave up. My faith and hope was rewarded when I met your Dad. He loved me utterly and completely and, no matter what preceded him, I felt I deserved it and could trust him. It would have been easy for me to become apathetic when it came to love, to let the disappointments of my past build walls around me, but I never did and I’m convinced it was that openness that allowed the right person walk right up.

manafoods.blogspot.com

I’m a trusting person. I was fired by a man who more or less derailed my acting career and I went back to work for him again. Did I like him? No. Did I trust him? No. But I believed that I needed to take the chance because it was good for my career. What I did do, however, was take the lessons learned from our previous dealings and use them to protect myself. Iron clad contracts and defined creative control so there would be no confusion as to where the power lay. Unfortunately for me it didn’t work out again, but it wasn’t from lack of preparation or foresight. At the end of the day he’s just not someone who can trust other’s ideas might surpass his. It was his baggage that made it impossible to move forward not mine. I still got burnt (I spent almost a year creating a series of children’s books I had no rights to unless they were published, and I wouldn’t publish them unless they were something I was 100% behind) but I wasn’t afraid to try. I wasn’t unable to take a leap of faith. He, on the other hand was. His closed mindedness, and past baggage of not being in control, have made it impossible for him to collaborate or bend and he suffers for it. Walking away from that project, I was both frustrated and liberated. I’d taken a risk and it hadn’t paid off, but I’d also learned that no matter how good the deal, some people you just can’t work with no matter how hard you try.

My advice, no matter how painful sometimes, is to throw yourself into things every time. Don’t be a whiny suck living in the past. Leave the past where it belongs and move forward. You aren’t protecting yourself by carrying the hurt, and it’s not anyone else’s job to help shoulder your burden. Learn from your mistakes then wash your hands of it. There are always other opportunities, always other loves, always other jobs. Do the best you can and expect others will do the same. Will you be disappointed? Sure. Sometimes. But you’ll also give yourself the chance to be happy and that’s worth the risk.

I love you.

Just let it go.

xo Mommy

Strive to be like this guy at claricemota.com

Sep 17

8 Comments

Pre K

Dear Loch,

You started pre K this week. It’s your last year of preschool and the last year before you’re in school full time. Last week, your Dad and I went to a parent’s night at the school to meet your teachers and hear what to expect from the coming year. I was looking forward to the meeting. We’d had a wonderful summer between Canada, the cottage, camp and house guests, but I’d run out of things to keep you occupied and you’re ready to get back to your routine. Excited for it all to begin, I sat on the tiny chairs in room 4 while the teachers explained the main thing the parents should be focusing on this year is remaining calm. They went on to say they understood it was a particularly stressful year as we try to decide on what the next step is for all of you. Kinder/Not kinder. Private/Public. Private Acceptance/Rejection. It’s a lot to deal with, and your teachers wanted us to see the school as a stress free zone. If you were sent home to find things that began with the letter R and you came back with something that began with the letter W, don’t worry about it, they’ll make it work. If we forget to bring something in for you, no problem, they’ll figure it out. Your teachers were adamant we really try to enjoy the year, and I sincerely appreciate their concern. Then one of them said something that brought tears to my eyes. She said, “Right now you have a child who’s just out of toddlerhood, but by June of next year, you’ll have a school aged child. You’ll never get these baby years back, so enjoy them while you can because this is it.” I clearly wasn’t the only parent who looked crestfallen because she started to laugh and said, “I wasn’t trying to make you guys cry!”  

What she said really affected me. I no longer felt as thrilled to have you back in school. I didn’t feel as enthusiastic to have our summer over, and I suddenly felt incredibly sentimental about the time we have left together – the time before you morph into a big kid and I lose my darling chicken to his room, and his friends, and his life. I understand it’s all part of growing up – for you and for me – but when your teacher said it out loud, I realized how close all of this is to being over and how very much I’m going to miss it. You are the love of my life Lochlan. We’re the best of pals and in some ways I think I’ve taken this time with just the two of us (and Daddy) for granted. I know I’m not the best at “playing”. I like to build and act and sing and dance but I’m weak when it comes to cars and trains and just getting down on the floor and engaging with them. God help me, I found that part mind numbing, and I’d often busied myself with laundry, dinner and other things that needed attention instead, and now I’m worried I could have done better. I’ve also struggled though your childhood trying to relaunch a career while still being a full time mother and, for the most part, I often feel I’m half assing both rather than mastering either. You’ve been plunked down in front of the television more than you probably should to give me a moment to “get things done” and though I would qualify myself as a very hands on mother, now that your starter years are coming to an end, I wonder if I couldn’t have given just a little more.

Looking back on your first four years however, perhaps I shouldn’t beat myself up. I did the best I could, and as long as I don’t compare myself to other mothers – the ones who don’t use TV as a baby sitter or who can make firetrucks talk to one another for more than five minutes without losing their minds – I can rest assured I’ve done right by you. We’ve had a wonderful time together. We’ve spent endless hours exploring the world. I had the opportunity to go to school with you for two whole years. I taught you the difference between right and wrong and the importance of manners. You’re self sufficient and confident and you talk a lot because I talk a lot. Overall, I believe your personality and enthusiasm were given a real chance to grow in the years we’ve had together, and at the very heart of it all we’ve had a marvelous time. I’m grateful for every year, so I thought it might be nice – at this, the beginning of the end, so to speak – to get a little reminiscent about what those years were like.

Year of the Baby – I’m not going to lie. It was a rough start. You had everything a baby could have to make him miserable – reflux, colic, constant barfing – and miserable you were. If you weren’t eating or sleeping, you were screaming. Screaming. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I was beside myself. I still look at babies with a slight tinge of anxiety. Holding them it’s like a flashback that gives me the shakes. If I could do it all over again, I know I’d enjoy it more because I’d know that everything would eventually pass. I’d be able to appreciate how wonderful it is to have a tiny baby rather than just thinking, “Dear God, I don’t know if I can do this”. Some friends of ours just had a new baby and for the first time since you out grew the screaming, I thought, yeah, I could do this again. For the record, everything after five months was so much better. Once you got on the solid foods you did a 180 on the crying. The baby I hoped was in there was able to emerge. Sadly, that time coinsided with my diagnosis, so I didn’t have the opportunity to enjoy it as much as I would have liked.

One Year Old – You learned to walk at 16 months, but more so, your personality really kicked in, and your personality strongly hinged on communication. You talked from the very beginning and were interested in everything, with a special focus on anything that moved (cars, trucks, trains, etc.) and girls with long hair. I even started to make an effort every day with my hair because it annoyed you so much if I didn’t. If I had the audacity to wear it in a bun or ponytail, you’d look at me sideways and say, “Mommy, no!  Brush, brush!” . This was also the year that you showed yourself to be a real lover of affection, always asking for cuddles and hugs and kisses. I could never refuse you, even when I was supposed to be leaving your room.

Two Years Old – You became a little boy this year. Your personality only continued to bloom and we realized how very lucky we were to have such a funny, empathetic, polite and loving child. You developed a sense of right and wrong and continued your obsession with girls (and by girls I mean women age 19-35 as spending so much time with me, made you believe that mom’s and their ilk were your peer group). You creativity grew leaps and bounds (though not your skills in art – you just had zero interest) and you started instigating imagination games on your own. Although you developed a will of your own, and preferred to do everything yourself, I never felt the two’s were in the least bit terrible. In fact, as far as I was concerned, it just kept getting better. You also started school this year and you took to it like gang busters. Organized, structured activities at a table – eh. Free range social play with peers – couldn’t get enough. 

Three Years Old – Oh man, I loved three. I’ll never be able to look back on three and four without getting weepy. We really became best pals this year. You’re such good company and we had such nice times together. You also started developing friends of your own this year as well as definite opinions of your likes (favorite game: family – always wants to be the “Daddy”) and dislikes (loud noises, watermelon, bed time). Despite all the new found independence you were still tightly connected to your mommy and I loved it. “When I get older I’ll marry a pretty girl?” “I’m sure you will Lochie.” “I think I’ll marry you Mommy.” “You think you’ll marry me?” “Yes.” “Well that would be lovely, but I think you’ll fall in love with someone else and want to marry them.” “No. I think I’ll just marry you.” Sigh.

Four Years Old – Are you kidding me with four?! I literally adore four. Yes, you’ve become far more willful and less malleable, exerting your “expertise” and opinions liberally, but you are a real companion now. You’re fun to hang out with. You make me laugh all the time. Sometimes deliberately. You also developed into a real BOY this year. Gone are the days of dressing in princess dresses and tutus, you’re now into superheros and legos and Star Wars. Despite the increased maturity in some ways you’ve also become more nervous. You’re constantly concerned about where I am, or where I’m going to be. It’s almost as if you understand the impermanance of the world and don’t feel secure unless you can visualize where I am and what I’m doing. We’re able to be quite flexible with your schedule now – though we try and get you to bed around the same time every night – and it’s opened our lives up a lot. It’s this age that I’m going to miss the most. I look at your adorable face in your baby pictures and I feel nostalgic, but it’s hanging out with you now that really makes me realize how fleeting this time is. You’re so enthusiastic, so positive, so happy. You delight in small things and want to be with us all the time. When you’re proud or excited your face just lights up. I do things all the time just to elicite that reaction and the beauty of this age is, I don’t have to do big things to make it happen. You’re not jaded yet. You’re not cool. You just want to be happy and loved and I’m devouring it. Every morning when you pad into my room and climb into bed for our cuddle, I’m aware it’s one less day you’ll be this sweet and adoring. 

Lochie, I love your energy and your idealism. I love your manners and your sense of humor. I love how kind and loving you’ve grown up to be, and for so many reasons, I hope you are able to stay this way for a long time. I pray your grown up self never loses all these wonderful qualities you have as a child.

So, we press forward and await the changes that, inevitably, will come. I know you’ll always love me but I also know you’ll never love me as unconditionally as you do right now. At this moment we’re the center of each other’s universe and soon enough other things will take my place in yours. If I’m lucky, time will eventually give you back to me, but I’ll never have you as completely as I did when you were my baby. I will live on these memories and you will build your future on them.

I wish you great and marvelous things Lochlan. I wish you happiness and love. I wish you success and security. I wish you health and joy, and I only hope that I can give you everything the child you are deserves, and the man you deserve to be, needs.

I love you Loch. Thank you for filling my life with such purpose. No matter where you go, remember this is where you started and you can always come back.

xo Mommy

Sep 4

10 Comments

Stress

Dear Loch,

I do not handle stress well. Never really have. It’s a terrible trait that, ironically, I’m better at handling a situation if the stakes are really high, like an accident/life or death, than I am with basic, everyday stresses where I become a basket case of epic proportions. The other day we were driving in Shatzy (our car) to your friend’s birthday party – which like all other parties at cool and expensive destination locations, was ridiculously far away – and I was using the navigation system in the car. When the coolly polite voice informed us we’d arrived at our destination, you were the first to say what we were both thinking…that we definitely had not. That this, wherever the hell this was – random residential street with no desirable kids play factory anywhere in sight – was clearly not our journey’s end. Our technology had lead us astray. I checked the system and, for some unbeknownst reason, the address was totally wrong. Now, I hadn’t put it in wrong, but somewhere between my dashboard and my drive shaft the computer had decided to change De Soto Avenue to the unknown Arcola Avenue on which we were now sitting. I tried retyping in the address but without a zip code the system wouldn’t let me proceed, and every time I typed in the street number, the street name would disappear. I did this 5 times before I flipped out and decided to put the address into my phone instead. My iPhone however was hell bent on giving me directions to a place in De Soto, Arkansas that would take me 1 day, 2 hours or 1 day, 4 hours depending on the route I chose. I went back to the nav system and tried to use voice control, but De Soto apparently sounds like everything and anything other than De Soto. I tried spelling it letter by letter, but by now I was basically screaming at my steering wheel.

Me: D-E-space S-O-T…

Car: You are clearly having trouble. Here is a list of possible commands to give you a idea of what to say…

Me: Navigation. Street Address. 2333 De Soto Avenue, Woodland Hills…

Car: (showing 3 possible address all starting with the word La) Pick a line or say None of these.

Me: None of these!!!

Car: Spell the name of the street. You can say things like 1234 Smith Avenue…

Me. 2-3-3-3 D-E-S-O-T-O

Car: (showing 3 lines that, aside from starting with D, have nothing whatsoever in common with De Soto) Pick a line or say none of these.

Me: F*^# you you f*^#ing stupid piece of s#^*….none of those, none of those, none of those.

Car: (not even slightly ruffled by my torrid of profanity) You can say a command by looking at the screen for options.

Me: Cancel! (hitting the steering wheel) @#$%^&**&^%! Stupid, @#$^&*’…..

Little sob from the back seat.

Me: (Immediately getting a hold of myself and feeling like the worst parent on earth) Oh Lochie, I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m behaving so badly.

You: (Sniffy little voice) I want to go to the party.

Me: I know baby. Me too. But this stupid system won’t listen to me.

You: (sticking up for the car whom you often have conversations with where I do the car’s voice) It’s not stupid, It’s part of Shatzy.

gardian.co.uk

Now if I’m not the worst person ever at this moment, I sure feel like it. Turns out we were 4 blocks away. 4 blocks! And I had a fit. A true temper tantrum that you had to witness. Before we ended up driving (I finally got directions off my phone) I turned around and told you again how sorry I was. I let you know I handled the situation extremely poorly and admitted my way of dealing with stress was awful and that you should look to your Daddy on how to handle this kind of situation (ones that don’t go your way) and not to me.

Your Dad is like Zen Master calm and I’m like just add water anxiety.

Still I feel awful. I wish I wasn’t that way. I recognize how foolish it is and how I could be making a better choice and yet I find it almost impossible to stop myself. I hate that you witness it and I hate more that you might someday emulate it.

willsandestates.co.za

Your Granddad is an epic stresser. The daily loss of his keys is a crisis of Herculean proportions. The swallowing of a bug leads people to believe he’s having a heart attack. But like myself, my Dad handles vast amounts of stress quite well. It’s the little things that get to him. Perhaps it’s like that expression when you’re married and fighting and people say “its not about the dishes”. It basically means the fight you’re having may have started over something small (like the dishes) but it’s the underlying feelings that are feeding the argument. People like Granddad and myself may be handling our major crises silently but our internal stress levels are so elevated that if one insignificant thing goes awry we just lose it. It’s the proverbial straw. Perhaps if we both looked into handling our major stresses more appropriately we wouldn’t be so exercised sweating the small stuff. I’ve witnessed my Dad’s mini meltdowns and it’s simultaneously not pretty and like looking in a mirror.

This spring your Dad and I went to a parenting conference where one of the lectures I attended was “Nurturing your Child’s Brilliance” and the speaker said something that really affected me. His theory was that we work within two vastly different states of intelligence. A conscious intelligence which he referred to as our “brilliance” where we think freely and see problems laid out clearly, and a responsive pattern of reactions that we downshift to in periods of tension or stress that cloud or active brain forcing us to fall back on old habits. The speaker believed that in periods of stress our brilliance and problem solving skills were overtaken by these repetitive patterns that made it impossible for us to access our natural intelligence. He claimed that most adults live primarily in that repetitive response zone, repeating patterned behaviors, unable to get back to our higher levels of cognizant behavior.

msnbc.msn.com

Children on the other hand, work almost solely using their natural brilliance because in times of stress or anxiety they use a tool that we, as adults, are socialized not to use, which is our emotions. When a child is stressed they show it. They cry, they scream, they have tantrums, and in that release they are able to clear their minds and upshift back to their conscious, intelligent, natural brilliance. As we age we’re taught to see that kind of behavior as inappropriate. We curb and stifle it so as to better fit in to society’s expectations. According to this speaker we are ultimately teaching ourselves to turn off the one thing that could free us up. His theory was that if, in times of stress, it was socially acceptable to show our emotions, we would be able to get out of our heads, move away from our fallback behaviors, and re-access our highest cerebral functions. I thought the whole thing made a lot of sense and it also made me feel a bit better about my personal freak outs. I’d hazzard to say it’s a version of this theory at work in traditional talk therapy. When people are allowed a safe environment in which to express their emotions they unburden and unblock themselves often making it possible for them to access their intelligent mind and solve their own problems. It’s probably why therapists are so quiet. Allowing people their feelings creates space for the clarity that allows them to answer their own questions.

The doctor used the example of a real moment of grief in an adult’s life (such as the death of a parent) where society loosens their rules on public displays of emotion. After openly grieving and crying for days people have been known to say that they feel better than they have in a years. The release of emotions actually cleared their brains. I think people often do this kind of emotional purge with TV, movies and sometimes commercials. The medium itself is a catalyst to express our feelings in an appropriate environment. It’s a sad movie so we cry. Only part of that is for the movie. The rest might be for something else but the emotions appear in context so it seems less messy.

ahealth4U.blogspot.com

I’m messy a lot. People can almost always tell how I’m feeling as I’ve never been particularly gifted, or inclined, at hiding how I feel. I’ve been known to freak out my stiff upper lip WASP parents and peers with my gregarious displays of emotion, and it’s been everything from embarrassing (crying when you don’t want to) to unnecessary (the situation with my Nav system) but for the most part I think it’s for the best. I don’t carry a lot of emotional baggage and I’m not weighed down by hidden feelings. I feel what I feel when I feel it, and then it’s over.

Ultimately there’s no weakness in feeling what you feel, and in many ways there’s a strong argument for expressing it. Though my open displays have yet to unlock my inner Hawking, I am happier not being all bottled up. What I can learn is how to better handle the small stresses so I don’t give them power they don’t deserve. If you can stay calm at all times like Daddy, then all the power to you. If you find your self hot like me, just know that there are times and places to better express yourself so you can pop off and still fit in socially.

At the very least you can watch Hallmark Christmas commercials or join a football team or something.

xo Mom

Jul 9

12 Comments

Don’t be a Victim

Dear Lochie,

The other day I was talking with someone I know, someone I love and appreciate, but who drives me crazy with their behavior. When I hung up the phone I was so irritated I did something I don’t often do, I gave you a piece of advice that is, for all intents and purposes, completely worthless to you right now. I usually try and keep our conversations kid themed but this situation had crawled so far under my skin that I felt the need to explain it to you despite the fact it’s really a grown up piece of advice. I bent down, looked you right in the eyes, and said,

Me: “Loch, whatever you do, don’t be a victim.”

You: “What’s a victim?”

Me: “A victim is someone who chooses not to stand up for themselves. Someone who lets people walk over them and does nothing about it. It’s like when someone is bothering you, and doing something you don’t like, you can go sit all by yourself and feel sad or you can say, “Hey that’s bothering me. I don’t like it.”

You: “And then they’ll stop?”

Me: “They might or they might not, but the point is you stood up for yourself and spoke your mind.”

You: “Or I could just come and tell you.”

Me: “You could. But I would try and handle it yourself first. The worst thing you can do is nothing and then be upset about it.”

Yes, I had that conversation with the 4-year-old version of you, but I feel so strongly about this issue I felt it just couldn’t wait.

mixedmarriages.wordpress.com

I think I should clarify that when I say victim, I’m not talking about actual victims of real crimes. Those type of victims have (and deserve) the right to be angry, afraid, nervous, and hesitant. Nor am I speaking to people with mental diseases like clinical depression who need doctors or medications to help sort out their feelings. I’m talking about people who find themselves in a situation in which they are unhappy and shlump around doing nothing about it. “Whoa is me, the world is out to get me”, bulls*^#. The world is not out to get you. Bad things happen. They do. I’m living proof they do. It’s how you live that defines you, and my advice here is not to live like a victim. Stand up for yourself. Speak your mind. Confront problems head on. If you aren’t happy, do something about it.

I believe there are two kinds of victims:

happytoinspire.blogspot.com

Victim Type One: People who can find a problem with anything, who are always have something to complain about, who can make an issue out of nothing.

These are your classic “victim mentality” people. Those with a victim mentality can range from highly functioning successful people to sad sacks who accomplish nothing. The common thread between these people is the ability to find the negative in any situation and/or that things are always someone else’s fault.

You were invited to a party? Well, there was that other one you weren’t so….

You introduce two people and they get along great? Great, now, you’re the odd man out…

You were included in a dinner? It was just a cc so you were probably an afterthought…

You didn’t get that promotion? No one notices anything you do, what’s the point…

Your relationship isn’t working out? They’re probably bi-polar or having an affair….

You aren’t succeeding the way you want at work? The boss hates you, so what’s the point…

You never get the girl? No one gets me anyway so why take the chance….

Ugh! Get over yourself. Nothing ventured is nothing gained. If something good happens, enjoy it. Don’t look for the one bad thing to fixate on. If you aren’t happy with a situation, figure out what steps you can take to change it and then TAKE THEM! Transformation is impossible if you keep doing the same thing.

Man up. Stop the bitching and make a concerted effort to adjust your circumstances. Will everything work out? No, but at least you’re a player in your own destiny and not some hapless passenger waiting to see how it turns out and being miserable in the process.

dailypositivequotes.com

Victim Type Two: People who refuse to acknowledge their problems and for whom everything is always “fine”.

Look, everything is not always fine. I could be trite and quote the oft used phrase that fine really means: F*^#ed up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional but I think it’s simpler than that. People who say they’re fine are either A: avoiding their real feelings and caught in some self imposed safe zone where being “fine” means they don’t really have to deal. B: lying because they don’t want to get into it or C: truly neither good nor bad and fine is truly the best and most appropriate answer at the time.

For the most part though, it’s A: avoidance. In my opinion avoiders are victims because in their refusal to acknowledge their real situation, they remain sacrificed to it.

I hate my spouse but I don’t want a divorce so I’ll pretend I’m fine. For ever. 

I hate my job but I don’t want to be unemployed so I’ll just keep doing it until they fire me. 

I’ve made the wrong choices in my life but there’s nothing I can do about it now so I’ll just keep living with them. 

One foot in front of the other stoicism doesn’t always work. Sometimes you have to stop and see where you are in order to figure out which way to go. Only then can you keep walking.

Listen, life can be hard. It can be frustrating. People can be out to get you and change is difficult, but to function within a state you can’t tolerate, that makes you miserable and – let’s not kid ourselves – makes you miserable to be around? That’s not better.  Dealing with things can be hard. It can be painful. It can be messy. But changing a circumstance you loathe, being your own advocate, there’s power in that, strength, worth. You’ll respect yourself more and other’s can’t help but concur.

erikadolnackova.com

You’re unhappy in your relationship? What changes can you make that might alter the situation? Deal with yourself first. What can you adjust? What can you make better? Still unhappy? Talk to your partner/friend/boss. Be honest. Be forthcoming. They can’t fix something they don’t know is broken. If you can’t do it alone, find an outside source to help – a councilor or a mediator. Listen and understand it’s never all one sided. It’s not all you and it’s not all them. Take the steps required to mend the situation. Put in the effort.  Still unhappy? The good doesn’t outweigh the bad? End it. You’re not doing anyone any favors by hanging on.

Don’t like your job? Are you in the right industry? If you aren’t then change. You’ll never be happy if you don’t like what you do. If you’re in the right industry, do you like what you do? Would you like it if you moved up? Have you asked for a raise? Have you worked harder to get noticed? Have you gone above and beyond? Have you been a team player? Are you friends with people at work? Have you made your ambition known?  If you have, be patient and wait for the opportunities, be vocal about your aspirations, and be focused on what you want. Still unhappy? The problem isn’t work. Something else is bothering you. Look into that.

blog.zerodean.com

Got yourself into a situation you don’t like? Made a series of bad choices and now feel stuck living with them? You’re not. Everything can change. For better or for worse, everything is fluid, but real change takes effort. You’re an addict? Admit it. Get help. Dedicate yourself to recovery. You’re overweight? Decide not to be. Chose to make smarter food and exercise choices. Commit to a being a better, stronger you. Every situation has an exit if you’re willing to take it. Do you necessarily want to do it? No. But if you’re unhappy or making others unhappy, then stop pretending it’s fine and adapt.

I’m not saying it’s simple, I’m saying it’s worth it. Bad things happen. It’s awful. My point is to not let it define you. Let’s say, God forbid, I die. It’ll take a major toll on you and your Dad, but I don’t want you to become the boy who’s mom died, or Dad to become the sad man who lost his wife. I want you to be Lochlan and Sean. You first, your circumstances second. If I die, I’m the victim. I don’t want you to be too.

Be the driver in your own life. Make the decisions. Make the calls. Don’t let life run you over. Don’t let people take advantage of you. Don’t let your circumstances define you. Look, I’m no saint, I can throw down when it comes to complaining. Some things aren’t fair, they suck, and you have to bitch. That’s life kiddo. My advice isn’t to power through everything. If you have to throw a pity party by all means throw it, just make it a short affair. Take the time to be upset, then pull it together. Make a plan to be happy and execute it. Handle your business. Don’t be powerless and wish you weren’t.

You hold the cards. You just have to decide how to play them.

xo Mommy

lovesicknotes.com

May 14

13 Comments

A Love Letter to My Mother

Dear Lochie,

Being a mother is by far the best thing I’ve ever done. I realize that’s a cliche, and part of me feels I should somehow be more profound and illuminating, but it’s the truth. Choosing to be a mother is choosing to put your life after another’s. Committing to a long term relationship is choosing to be someone’s equal, but the act of being a mother is the act of actively deciding to be second, or fourth, or eighth. You are no longer the most important. You can’t choose to look out for number one, or you can, but number one isn’t you.

As a mother your choices get usurped by what’s best for someone else. You change where you live. You buy sensible cars. You give up the things you want to afford things they need. You forget to eat. You clean bodily fluids that aren’t yours, and you have to get up, when every bone in your body says stay asleep.

Me and my boy.

When you choose to raise a person, to devote your life to making them the best possible version of themselves, you sacrifice and save and commit to their well being, knowing full well one day, if you’ve done your job right, they’ll grow up and leave you and you’ll have to smile and let them go. Our children may be ours but we don’t own them. All the love and attention we shower on them is soaked up and hopefully serves to make them loving, caring people that will go out and make the world a better place.

In my room in Toronto there is a tiny, framed water color with a quote that says, “There are two lasting gifts we can give our children. One is roots, the other is wings.” It reminds me of the new Jason Mraz song “93 Million Miles” where he says, “Oh, my my how beautiful, Oh my beautiful mother. She told me, son in life you’re gonna go far. If you do it right, you’ll love where you are. Just know, wherever you go. You can always come home.” The best we can do as mothers is give our children the strongest foundation on which to build their lives and then softly nudge them into the world with the knowledge and security that no matter where they go, or who they become, they always have a place to come home to. That in this big, overwhelming world there is somewhere they will always be loved, safe, cherished and respected. Whether that area is a physical home or just in their mother’s heart, they know they have a space they’ll always belong.

My mom last summer at the cottage.

With that in mind, and seeing that yesterday was Mother’s Day, I felt it was only fitting to write a little about the woman who taught me everything I know about being a mother. The person who showed me what it means to unconditionally love and sacrifice. The person who put her own life on hold to raise yours truly, and the person to which I owe the most in the world, your Granny, Penny Elliott. As we grow, I think it’s important to know where we came from. Who we are a product of. Who raised us. Who raised them. Who we’re genetically or emotionally linked to and how that plays out in our lives. It’s not about looking back, it’s about filling in the knowledge, so we can move forward. It’s a healthy respect for the history of life, our life, and who came before.

My mother was born Rene Penelope Lowndes in Toronto, Canada in 1943. Her mother, your Grand Mimi, was one of the four famous Locke (no, we didn’t name you after them but it’s a lovely coincidence) sisters who grew up with their mother on Lynwood Avenue in an area called Forest Hill. When I say famous I don’t mean to say that your Grand Mimi or Great Aunts were movie stars or famous burlesque dancers or anything, merely that they were 4 attractive sisters living close to an all boys school who made quite a name for themselves in the social circles of 1930’s Toronto society.

My mom. 1 year old.

Your Granny’s Father’s name was Charles Lowndes and he married Grand Mimi in spite of the fact that her father, who would die soon after of colon cancer, told her to “give him up.” According to family lore, he was not quite ready to be a husband and a father and when he went off to war (WWII) he formally decided it wasn’t for him. Grand Mimi became one of a very short list of divorcees in the 1940’s and moved into the 3rd floor of her childhood home with her new baby, Penny.

Your Granny spent the next 10 years of her life living on Lynwood in the winter and Lake Simcoe in the summer with her mother, and grand mother, and various other cousins and relatives, of which there were many. It breaks my heart to think of my Mom’s Dad leaving and never getting to know her. I think it’d be fair to say it affected her whole life. I’d hazard to guess the child in her never fully understood it wasn’t her fault, or that she was lovable and not to blame for what happened. I think many of her personality traits probably stem back to those early feelings – the need to be likable and agreeable – and, I think she always felt she had to somehow make it up to her mother.

A child should never feel responsible for a parent’s happiness. As parents we are responsible for our children but not the other way round. It’s too big of a role for little people to handle. I loved your Grand Mimi dearly, but not withstanding her own disappointment (and I’m sure there was plenty) I think she might have let her first born down a bit.

Granny’s sister Jill’s Christening. Grand Mimi is in the center holding Jill, the youngest of all the cousins, and Granny is second row top left.

When Granny was 10, Grand Mimi remarried an Englishman named Henry (called Seb) Askew, a strikingly handsome, businessman and cabinet maker – and according to Grand Mimi “a wonderful dancer”. They relocated to a small but sweet house on Heath Street, about 15 minutes away from where Granny had grown up. Seb and Grand Mimi went on to have a daughter, Granny’s sister Jill, the following year. I’ve heard Granny say she was never quite sure how she fit into her mother’s new little family. That, despite their best efforts, she always felt a little like an outsider in her own home, and that she was more of a parental figure to her sister than a sibling due to their 11 year age difference.

Granny and Granddad leaving on their Honeymoon.

Granny met Granddad when they worked in the same law firm in the early 60’s. She’d say she fell in love before he did and often jokes that they got engaged because he was so traumatized that his best pal Todd had decided to get married. Granddad would tell you that Granny was the only woman that had ever made him stop his frantic pace and take notice, and for him that was love. They were married in 1969 and honeymooned in Spain and Portugal. Granny had travelled to Europe previously with friends and had to convince Granddad to go abroad. The joke is Granddad would have been happy to have honeymooned in Georgian Bay (where they would later buy the cottage), but once she got him overseas, he became hooked by the travel bug that’s never left him since.

Coming home from the hospital.

I came along a full 5 years after their marriage. After planning on a big family they resigned themselves to the fact that I would probably be their only child, and moved on, as we have, to giving that one child all they could. My Dad worked a lot when I was young and though I could tell many wonderful stories about how he never made me feel like I wasn’t important, or we did wonderful things together, this is a story about my mom so I’ll leave those tales for Father’s Day. Granny and I spent every day together when I was little. She was a stay-at-home mom till I was in the 5th grade and I can’t thank her enough for that sacrifice. We have a very old recording of me speaking into a tape recorder on our way up to Collingwood to ski for the weekend (back then we had a chalet that we rented every winter so I could learn to ski and my parents could party with their pals). On the recording the 3- year-old me is recounting the day I’d just spent with my mother and it sounds very similar to a day you and I might have whiled away together.

Me: First we went to the bank…Then we went to the cleaners…Then we went…where?

Mom: To the bakery.

Me: …to the bakery.

Mom: And tell Dad what you got at the bakery Leigh.

Me: I got a cookie Dad.

Mom: And what color was it?

Me: It was GREEN Dad!!

Dad: What!? A green cookie!!

Me: Yes!

Happy Childhood Days with my mommy. I learned affection from her.

I know those days. They’re boring and wonderful all at the same time.  It’s just life unfolding. Daily, dull, have-to-do stuff, but now you’re doing it with a little person. A little person who’s absorbing the whole world. When I first got sick and thought I was going to die, it wasn’t the big things like never being famous or successful that I morned. It was the boring, every day things that I took for granted like going to the grocery store or just hanging out with you. At the end of it all, it’s those little moments that make up a life. It doesn’t matter that the world doesn’t know who I am. It matters that you know me and I know you. Staying home with your kid is a gift that goes both ways, and for those mothers that have, or make, the opportunity to do it, it means so much and I want my mom to know how grateful I am to her for all those years.

Granny went back to work when I was 10 and it was an adjustment. I could no longer go home for lunch, I got home and hour before she did and she no longer knew every aspect of my life. Looking back that was probably more a product of age than her working, but it was still a trip.

Reading in front of the fire at our first house on Plymbridge Crescent.

I kind of got her back when I started private school in Grade 6 because she worked there. Granny was an alumnae and worked in fundraising in the Sr. School. It was the best of both worlds. She was there but not there. Available for debriefings and ventings when I needed her, but not in my space like she would have been if she’d been say, a teacher. It’s a real testament to my mother to say that throughout my 8 years at Branksome I’d often go to her office to chat, just to find one of my friend’s already there seeking her advice. Granny’s just one of those people that’s really easy to talk to. I’ve always been so proud of her. Everyone loves her and it’s such a blessing to be the child of someone that everyone loves. She’s such a devoted friend and warmhearted person that people my whole life have gravitated towards her. If I could give her a gift it would be to see herself through other’s eyes. She has no idea how truly fabulous she is. Though we have none of the same features and our coloring is different, for some reason we look a lot alike, and I’ve always felt fortunate because of that. First of all because she’s beautiful, but secondly because looking like her, people associate me with her. A perfect example is a couple of years ago when I was home for a visit and I took my parents dry cleaning in. The woman behind the counter took one look at me and said, “Are you Penny’s daughter?” and when I answered in the affirmative, she said, “Oh, you’re so lucky to have a mom like yours. She’s sooo nice.”  

How can you not feel pride at something like that?

My mom in her early 30’s.

Growing up with your Granny I felt pride a lot. I was supported and encouraged at everything I did – save competitive diving but that’s a story that truly belongs to my Dad – and it made me an incredibly strong individual. I also had a place in my mother to confide every feeling, to ask every question and I never got anything less than her undivided attention. She saw every show, came to every meet, volunteered for things I wanted her too and steered clear when I preferred to be alone. She trusted me and because of that I trusted her. I told her when I started drinking, when I tried smoking, when I had sex. I explained my experiences with drugs and unloaded all my heartache. Sure their were secrets I kept – everybody has them – but for the most part we were and continue to be the best of pals.

The best kind of mothers, and your Granny is one, can be your pal while still remaining your Mom. Her primary concern was my well being, my safety and my character. She was my friend, but not before she was my mother and my guide. We had, and occasionally still do have, terrible fights. We have very different temperaments, or maybe similar temperaments, but were raised differently. I was raised in a house where my voice mattered. Where I believed in myself and my convictions and felt that my opinions had weight. Granny was raised to be “a good girl” to be a pleaser and was filled from a very young age with doubt about her abilities. I can remember when my mom was in her 40’s and Grand Mimi telling her that she “couldn’t drive on the highway at night” or “maybe she should go and have a nap”  like she was a 5-year-old. I swear my Granny treated me like more of an adult than she ever treated my mom and I’m sure it was exhausting.

My mom in her early 60’s.

That constant second guessing by the woman she loved – and always tried to please – made Granny what I can only describe as, a nervous person. She’s a bad flyer (a learned behavior I adopted); an anxious driver (and even worse passenger); a blue chip investor (though I understand the need for stability, I’m definitely more risk tolerant); and her most used quote and possible life motto is “When in doubt, don’t.” I think it’s a real testament to her strength of character that she raised me to be different, bolder, more confident than she was. Though doubt can be a possible warning sign to disaster, I’ve always seen it as reason to get more information or put in more work. You might be unsure but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Life in itself is a risk. Do your research. Make educated decisions. There’s always room for doubt, but that doesn’t mean it should prevent action. I recently filled out a financial questionnaire and one question was, “What does risk mean to you?” I answered C: Opportunity. My mom would have circled A: Danger.

I moved away from home at 19 and – save 2 years when I returned to Toronto for Grad School – I never moved back. I believe I was able to do this because of my mom. I was so filled with her love that I could take it with me no matter where I lived, and no matter where I was I knew I could always come back. She’d filled my life with a confidence and security I’m sure she never had, and my life’s been blessed because of it.

When I got sick Granny came to live with us. She was amazing. Giving up her life to come down and help with ours. So many times she said to me, “I wish I could trade places with you. I wish I could take this on. It’s not fair that it’s you. It should be me.” My mom was feeling what we all know, that we’re not supposed to outlive our children. How do you get your head around saying goodbye to someone that you can’t bare to live without? I hope she never has to deal with it. I hope I can take care of her in old age as well as she took care of her mother. I hope I can care for her as she’s always cared for me and I hope I can live a good, long life and spare her the pain of  my passing. I can’t imagine a world without her but I’d like it to play out in the right order. She deserves it.

You and Granny when you were 9 months old. Granny was living with us after my diagnosis.

When I got married I found out that my mom had been saving money for years to be able to help make it the day I wanted it to be. That same year I found out it was my mother that had paid for my private school education. I’d always credited it to my successful, lawyer father but it was my mother – my oft overlooked, overworked mother – who had my tuition taken out of her salary to pay for my fancy – and well worth it – private education. So much of who I am I owe to her. She taught me love in a way that I can never repay. She sang to me and read me stories. She held me when I was scared as a child and as a grown mother afraid of dying. She has a fabulous – almost sibling like – relationship with your Dad, and she’s cultivated a relationship with you that breaks my heart it’s so mutually devoted. Your Granny pledged her life to me in a way I’m not sure I’ll be able to match. I’m not as patient or selfless and I’m not sure I have as much time, but I will do the best I can, just as she did the best she could. I plan to give you all I have without losing myself.

I think that’s all we can ever really ask of our mothers.

I love you Mom.

I love you Loch.

May God bless you both.

xo leigh

My mom and I sharing a laugh at the cottage.

P.S. Here are some songs that make me think of my Mommy:

Raise me Up – Josh Grobin

You’ll be in my Heart – Phil Collins

I Turn to You – Christina Aguilera

P.P.S. If you’re feeling sentimental you should also check out the new “Thank you Mom” campaign from P&G. It’s a tear jerker but I like tear jerkers.

My mom and I at the cottage years before.

Apr 16

21 Comments

Spoiled Abuse

Dear Lochie,

I’m sorry you can’t have everything you want.

I’m glad you can’t have everything you want.

The thing is, even if  we were wildly rich – which we currently are not – and could give you everything, I still wouldn’t, and I’ll tell you why…

If you have everything, get everything, want and wish for nothing, what’s left? What do you hope for? Save for? Strive for? How do you create a work ethic in someone that’s been given everything they want, every time they wanted it? Where’s the inspiration? Parents, in my opinion, do you no favors by giving in to your every whim, nor do we help you long term by constantly surrounding you with “stuff”. Now, that’s not to say you don’t have a boatload of stuff because, let’s be honest, you do, but you also have limits, and time and time again, for various reasons, we say no. Lately we’ve been saying no a lot.

Christmas at your Grandparents in Eugene. Granted there were 3 grandchildren and 4 children there but still....holy moly present bagoly.

You recently had your 4th Birthday and maybe it’s the age, or the increased awareness, or the fact that you were in present land for 2 straight months -your birthday falls almost immediately after Christmas – but we’ve found you’re requesting more and more things these days and it’s something we have to curb.  Look I get it. You’re an only child. Plus, you’re the only grandchild of an only child and though your father has a brother with 3 children of their own, you also have adoring, spoiling grandparents on that side too. Add in all the friends and extended family and it’s a pretty sweet deal. However, I think unwrapping gifts for such an elongated period of time warped your mind a bit.

About a month ago we went to Disneyland. We have season passes and can go for the day if we have the time. Your Granny, who had been staying with us for 2 weeks, had just been dropped off at the airport and you were bummed. You guys have a lot of fun together and you get pretty down when she has to go. Your Dad and I thought it would be a good idea to just continue from the airport to Disney to distract you from missing Granny. Plus after such a busy birthday month, we thought it would be nice to spend the day – just the 3 of us – at a place we all love. The thing is, we weren’t there 2 minutes before you started asking for things. Now, you don’t get everything you ask for, so it’s not too hard to say no to you, but this was like an onslaught. You wanted ice cream. We made you eat lunch and then you had one. You wanted cotton candy. We reminded you you’d just had an ice cream. You wanted a balloon. No, they’re useless and you can’t take them on rides. You wanted a drink. We’d brought water. You wanted a cherro. No. You wanted a hat. No. You wanted a lolly bigger than your face. No. You wanted to be carried. We’d brought a stroller anticipating that request. You wanted another ice cream, a smaller lolly, a balloon again. You wanted. You wanted. You wanted. You wanted.

Arriving at Disney for the "You Can't Always Get What You Want" Tour.

We finally lost it when you insisted you get a toy when we left the Star Tours ride. We weren’t trying to be mean, but give me a break. We explained you’d just had your birthday. Then you’d gone to Legoland and Sea World and stayed at a hotel with toys and treats galore. We reminded you of the ton of new thing you had at home and finalized our – probably way too long – lecture with a speech about getting off a ride not equalling a gift. You were pissed. PISSED. All folded arms and huffing breaths. Finally you looked at us and said, “I always ask for things and you never get me anything.” We pulled your stroller over so fast I’m sure you had whiplash. I knelt down so we were face to face and firmly explained that what you had said was “not ok.”  That you were a very lucky boy who had more things than most children could even dream of, and that if that was going to be your attitude, Daddy and I would leave the park that very minute, and I meant it. You, sensing the seriousness of the situation, became very upset. You didn’t want to leave the park. You didn’t want our day to be over. Finally you said, “I don’t understand. I asked nicely.”  I had to explain that asking nicely – though correct – doesn’t necessarily guarantee success, just as saying “excuse me” then pushing someone out of your way doesn’t negate the behavior. I went on to tell you that I would love to give you everything you wanted, but if I did, I’d be a bad Mom. That saying yes to everything makes everything mean nothing. You’d become, what I call, a Greedy Gus. A “Me, me, me, what’s next? I want, I want, I want…”kind of person. A stuff junkie just looking for the next high. I’m not sure how much you understood, but your attitude totally changed. You seemed to accept that there would be no toys that day and you were content to stop asking. When I stood up, your Dad told me he was glad I had bent down faster than him, because if he’d been down there, we’d be walking out of the park right now.

The rest of the day was great, and as we passed bedraggled parents, carting wailing children out of stores, I realized we weren’t alone. It’s hard to be a good parent. It’s so much easier to give in. No tears. No arguing. No explanations. But to make my life easier, I believe I’d be making your future life harder. I look at Suri Cruise in her $7000 outfits and the Jolie-Pitt kids on their seemingly endless trips to the toy stores and candy shops and I think it’s a good thing they’ll probably have everything handed to them their whole life because if these kids didn’t get everything they wanted, I’m not sure they’d be prepared to handle it. I’m going to just hope for the best for their futures because for every Montana Fishburn or Paris Hilton there’s a Nell Newman or an Ivanka Trump. Or at least I like to think there is.

Living in this town makes me nervous sometimes though. Is it even possible these days to grow up both privileged and grounded? Or, with so much excess around, do the Haves and their offspring just become more and more disassociated?

Your Dad and I left the movies the other night and were waiting for the valet to get our car. As we stood there a car pulled up in front of us. It was a white, 2 door, totally tricked out, top-of-the-line BMW. But it was the amount of extras that really made us take notice. Everything was custom. The paint job. The cream leather seats with contrasting piping. The white (!) chrome rims. Even the stereo and dash looked like they’d been specially designed. It was a FANCY car. And that’s saying something in LA. So, as we stood there waiting for the hip hop star or media mogul to come and claim it, from behind us 4 kids emerged. I say kids because there is no other way to describe them. If I worked at the Fair I would have guessed the driver’s age to be 14, except seeing that he was about to drive, I would have been wrong. As I watched him pull back his seat for his friends to climb in, his leather, low rider, skinny jeans blinging at me and his 15 year old girlfriend with her over the knee socks and Louis Vitton bag getting into the passenger seat, I realized that this was not his Daddy’s car. This was his car. The car he clearly just got for his 16th birthday and I felt kinda sick. As they drove away I looked over at your Dad and said, “What just happened?! ……. Seriously. What just happened?”

He just shook his head.

This is my lame attempt to recreate what I saw from bmwusa.com. It doesn't even come close to doing this car justice.

Here’s the thing. Clearly that boy was the child of some bazillionaire movie producer for whom money is no option, but where is there to go if your first car is $140K? Unless you’re taking over the family business or your parents continue to pick up the tab for the rest of your life, there’s nowhere to go but down. I feel the same way when I see young girls in Dior sunglasses and Marc Jacobs flip flops carrying their books in Miu Miu bags. What the H? What kind of precedence does that set? No high schooler should be wearing clothes that women in their 30’s and 40’s are wearing – or aspiring to wear. It gives a warped sense of entitlement that’s hard to turn off. Even little old me with my teenage Oakley’s had a hard time adjusting when I got to the real world. Granny and Granddad gave me a lovely childhood. I went to a terrific school. Spent my summers at camp and the cottage. Went on at least one trip a year, and Christmas and my birthday were almost always a guaranteed ticket to what I’d asked for. I lived a charmed life. I didn’t get everything I wanted but, I almost didn’t notice. I can still remember things I didn’t get but they were things like the green and white Benetton rugby shirt that everyone had, not like a grad trip…or bus fare. It wasn’t till later that I realized how blessed I was to come out of University with no debt, and it wasn’t until I moved to NYC – where my dad paid my rent – that I realized how much of a struggle life could be, and how hard it was to keep up with the lifestyle I’d taken as a given. I was shocked and more than a little dismayed when I found I couldn’t afford a quarter of what I wanted (or expected) and it sucked. How could I not have enough money to eat out? How could I not afford new clothes? And vacations…forget about it. Saying nothing for the very limited vacation time a non-student gets, being an actress really meant being a waitress and that means “paying bills” money, not “living life” money. It was hard. Like wake up and smell the reality hard.

And my first car was my mom’s hand-me-down ’85 Honda Civic hatchback – with the optional passenger side mirror and tape deck that we hadn’t optioned – not a 100 thousand dollar luxury vehicle.

As I’ve mentioned before I’m still dependent on your grand-parents for help and I hate it. I want to be self sufficient but I also want to be happy and true to myself and that means slugging away in the world of the Arts till it happens. But by the time you read this I hope to be long off the parental dole. I have these wonderful dreams of paying them back – not that they’d expect it – or buying them the fabulous big ticket items they dream of – hello, new kitchen at the cottage or Gentleman’s racer – but mostly I want enough to be able to properly care for them when they’re old. I see my mom taking care of Aunt Jane or, up to last year, Grand Mimi, and I realize that there will probably be a number of relatives that I will likely be responsible for too. The gift of the only child can look a little daunting as people start to age. I need to work my ass off to secure all of our lives, and until about 10 years ago, I’m not sure I really got that. Up till then everything had come relatively easily to me,  and I guess I assumed it always would. When my acting career stalled it was a major wake up call. Getting married was a shock to the system. Having a baby was like being dropped on my head, and getting sick showed me that my easy life had been but a lovely dream.

Look, I’d like you to have the best of both worlds. I’d like you to be comfortable and secure knowing that we will do right by you as far as what you need, and know that we will give you enough of what you want. As George Clooney’s character says about money in the recent Oscar nominated film The Descendants, “You want to give your children enough to do something, but not enough to do nothing.”

en.wikipedia.org

I want your first car to be a safe, solid, second-hand car that makes you feel cool, but wouldn’t be looked at twice by Jay Z. I want it to be a BIG DEAL when you get your first luxury whatever. I want it to be thrilling for you when you finally get that big ticket item you’ve been hoping for. I want you to budget out a trip with your friends instead of just assuming we’ll pick up the tab. We probably will. I hope we’ll be able to. But I want you to know where the money comes from and what efforts have been made to give us all the things we want.

Too spoiled can make you weak. It’s not a character builder. Many people I know who grew up with everything struggled as adults. Many ended up with drinking, drug  or personality problems. It’s akin to what I said about The Death of Anticipation. We need to build some suspense into our lives to teach us what’s worth valuing. We need to create some hope and desire. Without it, you can drift through life in a haze of boredom trying to get your kicks doing inappropriate (and often dangerous) things attempting to feel “something”.

I don’t want that for you.

blog.stuvu.com

Your father and I have recently solidified our decision to send you to private school. After touring 15 schools, including many of the public LAUSD schools, we’ve concluded that our money will be best spent giving you the strongest possible start in life. It is our hope to instill a love of learning that gives you the foundation on which to build the rest of your life. In order to do this though, we’ll have to make some major concessions. We might not buy a house for a while…if ever. We’ll have to live within our means, and my dreams of grander will have to take a backseat to what’s best for you. You’ll quite probably get less “stuff” and it’ll be an adjustment for all. Including your grandparents who – in keeping up with their endless generosity – have offered to help. It’s a big deal for us. But it’s the best we can do for you, so we’ll do it. I don’t need you to feel guilty or even grateful – in the grandiose sense of the word – like we need constant thanks or props. I just need you to understand where we’re coming from and if you can’t have all you ask for – or all your friend’s might have – this is why.

Life is a joy but it’s also a struggle, and I think the more aware you are of the reality of the effort, the more likely you are to enjoy the path as you move towards your own success.

I wish you great success. But I also want your feet firmly planted on the ground, so when the time comes you can decide whether you even want a $140K car.

Then you can go out and buy one for yourself.

xo your mom

Apr 9

7 Comments

Fighting

Dear Loch,

People fight. It happens. It’s unpleasant but it’s a necessary part of human interactions you’d best be able to accept and work with, rather than rail against. When I hear couples say they never fight I often think they’re A: lying, or, if they’re not, it’s B: a bit weird. Unhealthy even. People can’t possibly agree on everything. Especially people that spend a lot of time in each other’s company. It’s unrealistic and it puts unrealistic expectations on us if it’s something we’re expected to do. Agreeing and choosing to agree for the sake of civility, are two different things. And though there is definitely a place for that kind of concession, I think for the most part, healthy disagreements are one of the things that help us learn and grow as people. They allow us to be true to ourselves, and know that our opinions don’t have to be the same as others to be accepted. If they do, then you might have other issues to deal with. What you don’t want is to be someone who looks to fight. Someone who’s angry or mean and takes their stress out on others. Conflict for the sake of conflict is not a character building exercise.

The key word in disagreements is “healthy”. There are ways to fight that can be good, proactive discord in order to make a change. There’s a way to stand up for your beliefs that don’t undermine or belittle. This is not always easy to do, and God knows it takes practice and effort, but it’s something worth striving for. What you want to avoid are arguments that lead to petty, cruel behavior that degrade or disparage others. You want to play fair. To be kind even in conflict. And if you can’t muster kind, at least try and be civil. No name calling. No below the belt shots. And an avoidance of tangents and things from the past that cloud the matter in question.

iamusayo.tumblr.com

Stick to the issue at hand. No “f*^# you’s” or personal attacks. Try not to interrupt – I’m personally terrible at this – and try to avoid saying anything you’ll regret later. I was fighting with your Dad once – I can’t remember what about – and, in the heat of the moment, I said, “Well maybe you should just divorce me, and…” His face looked like I’d slapped him. I immediately took it back. Acknowledged my idiot behavior and sincerely apologized for it, but your Dad flipped out. Rightly so. I get it. I shouldn’t have said it. It was stupid and my “I’m sorry. I’m angry. I didn’t mean it” wasn’t cutting it for him. But then he did what I will also advise you not to do, which is to milk the situation – when the tables have shifted, for whatever reason, in your favor – and was ‘righteously’ angry for hours. Both of us blew it that day. Me, with my rash, insincere comment, and him in his need to punish me for my mistake.

When fighting, above all, be respectful. You may believe someone is behaving irrationally, stupid or ridiculous, but remember to them, their behavior is totally justified. Keep that in mind. I’m not saying you have to necessarily turn the other cheek, but try and see it from their point of view. Fighting fair means looking for the compromise. Both people matter so really try and listen. When it’s possible to turn off the rushing sound in your head that says “shut up shut up shut up – you’re an idiot – shut up”, what you hear might make sense to you. People are worthy of respect no matter how furious, misunderstood or unjustly attacked you feel. How you treat someone in a period of strife can linger long after the issue has passed. For the most part, this is also true when going head to head with someone you don’t know – a stranger, a person of authority, a jerk in a bar – no matter how much they deserve it – and people often do – try and keep your cool. Civility is more likely to deliver the result you want or, at the very least, help make your point.

allwomenstalk.com

When deciding whether to address an issue head on, it’s important you take into account who it is you’re dealing with and what the result of the fallout might be. With my parents or your Dad, I tackle almost every problem because A: they’ve promised to love me always – the unconditional love factor – and B: I interact with them on a daily basis and I’d rather nip issues in the bud than deal with them over and over – Groundhog Day style – for the rest of my life. With friends and acquaintances it’s a different story because it’s not  a given that the relationship will be able to survive a fight without changing, and ultimately I don’t see most people enough to justify fighting over something that’s not an incredibly huge deal. A friend who’s always late or insists on always picking the restaurant? Who cares? Go where they want to go and tell them you’re meeting a half an hour earlier than you plan to show up. An acquaintance who has a way of seeing the negative side of every issue? Eh. Just take their advise with a grain of salt and avoid telling them stories about things that really matter to you. A pal who never mentions the birthday cards you send? Suck it up or stop sending the cards, but don’t get into a fight about it. What’s the point? Even if they started thanking you, it would always feel insincere. There are a lot of situations where it’s better to just accept people’s “isms” and move on. In many cases a situation or behavior is so unlikely to occur again that creating conflict around it is just unnecessary.

That being said, I recently had a fight with one of my oldest and dearest friends and the altercation caught me totally unprepared. Without going into too much detail, I became irritated by her constant texting with a potential suitor over the span of 2 days. Granted I am hopelessly out of the loop in the dating scene, but I got tired of playing second fiddle to a phone. The thing was, I was trying to be encouraging and understanding. To help out. I was even open to her ditching me to hang out with him. Ultimately I just wanted her to be happy, and if being with him would have done that, I would have been fine. As it was, she was with me, but not really with me, and as her phone binged for the 100th time in 3 hours, and she stopped half way out the door I was holding to get it, I sighed – a deep, OMFG sigh– and almost immediately after that the fight began. When I say fight, I mean she chewed me out for being essentially bratty and deliberately obtuse, and I chose to act like I was nowhere near as annoyed as I was. The thing is, I was worried about how far the situation could escalate. I was pretty pissed off and if I met her energy in that moment – which I easily could have done – I wasn’t sure we’d get out with our relationship intact. So, in that moment, I made the choice to let her rail against me and then try to patch things up later. That’s the thing about fighting, you must always weigh “winning” over what’s best for the relationship. In this case, I wanted my friend. I love her. And I decided I would rather have her feel superior to me than have us stop speaking. Though it was frustrating to be unable to make my point, I’m sure it was the right thing to do. I know that when we see each other next, enough time will have passed for us both to be truly over it. I can’t say the same thing would be true if we’d gone head to head.

hellobeautiful.com

The thing is, I hate fighting. I’m a great debater – and I love to be right – so I’m pretty good at it. But I hate it. It makes me sad. Even if you crush someone’s argument, you still feel empty afterwards. I’ve avoided a lot of fights in my life because no matter how upset or disappointed I was, the fight itself was unlikely to yield anything other than tension and anxiety. Sometimes friends let you down, or people do things that annoy you, or you think a situation should be playing out another way, but you have to consider if the situation is likely to arise again. Is it worth getting in to? I think, as you age, you’re better at letting things slide and just enjoying people’s company. When you’re younger, and you see your friends every day, it’s sometimes necessary to mention smaller annoyances as you’re dealing with them far more often. Annoyance breeds discontent, discontent breeds resentment, resentment breeds hostility, and hostility can destroy a relationship.

You need to really consider which direct conflicts you want a part of. Which ones are likely to yield the outcome you want – a changed behavior or result – and which ones you should just walk away from. These are serious questions to answer – often in just a heartbeat – and will significantly effect how you interact with the world. I was treated terribly by a Director of mine once. I was a major asset to him when he first created a show in New York. We talked everyday, and through collaboration I really helped shape what went onto become one of the most successful Off-Broadway plays of the 2000’s. It was his baby, but I was a pretty good nanny. However, he got it into his head that we should be “collaborating” on more than just the play, and when I wasn’t on board, his behavior changed over night. Not only did he stop listening to me, he also stopped publicly acknowledging me, unless it was to criticize or call me out in front of the cast. I got it. I didn’t like it, but I got it. He was putting me in my place. Showing me who was boss. But I wasn’t going to let it ruin my chances to move forward with the show when it moved  to LA.

youarefab.wordpress.com

Unfortunately in LA it got worse. When his reiterated desire to expand our relationship failed, he started a “relationship” with my roommate which resulted in my being fired from the show, being stranded in LA with nowhere to live – I’d subleased my apartment in New York – and, at the request of my ex-roommate – who felt I’d “stolen her agent” –  he called my representation to tell them what an awful actress and person I was. I did damage control for weeks and though they didn’t drop me right away, it forever affected how they saw me. A year later – after they had dumped me – that same Director asked me to come back for the new run of the show in New York. People thought I was crazy to go, but I saw it as an opportunity to clear my name – you certainly don’t pay an “unprofessional” actress to fly across the country on your dime – and finally get my Equity card in the process. I ended up doing 5 weeks of the show without fighting with him once. No one could believe I’d ignored the opportunity to give him what for. But really, what would have been the point? He’s not going to change. He knew how I felt. Fighting with him would simply have been a waste of energy.

Often when I fight I just want it to be over. When I was young I asked Granny how to end a fight if you don’t want to apologize. She told me I could say, “I’m sorry we had a fight.”That way I could be contrite about the fight itself, but not have to fake an apology I didn’t mean. That advice has served me well in the past. It works best when the two people involved can agree to disagree – a solid position if you can work with it – for the sake of the relationship. But sometimes agreeing to disagree doesn’t work, and you have to work through a disagreement to get to the other side. That’s when you end up genuinely apologizing. I have to say, your Dad and I are very good at this. Even after our worst, drag out fights, we always come to an understanding and our apologies are specific and clear, as is the plan on which to move forward. This is not to say we don’t have conflict issues. It just means we finish strong.

bodyandsoul.com.au

Your Dad and I see eye to eye on most things and, after almost 10 years together, are still truly best friends. But we can really throw down. Maybe it’s a fire sign thing – he’s a Scorpio, I’m a Leo . Maybe it’s a actor thing – we’re both wildly sensitive and probably too keenly aware of verbal and non-verbal nuances. Or maybe it’s a built up tension thing. We both live under extremely high levels of stress, and when we fight it’s almost like we uncork a bottle that blows up all over us. Over the past year we’ve been trying very hard to take a step back – when we’re in the thick of it – to calm down and reassess. If we don’t, we often find ourselves on a train we can’t get off, and our fights escalate well beyond where they should.

For a long time our disagreements could almost follow a check list of events, which in itself was a problem. It went something like this:

I’d criticize your Dad or bring up something I was unhappy with.

Your Dad would get defensive.

He’d find something I’d done that was similar, or just as bad, and turn the issue around on me.

I’d get furious that I was now somehow supposed to be apologizing and that the original issue had been hijacked.

We’d both raise our voices and one of us would storm out of the room.

The other would follow.

I’d end up saying something like “Forget it, forget it” and shutting down. Preferring to end it than continue with the fight.

We’d take a break – be it 10 minutes, an hour, the whole day.

We’d come back together, calmer, removed from the heat, with some perspective.

We’d discuss the issue calmly.

The issue would be resolved and both of us would feel heard.

We’d both apologize

Though our fights always ended up in a positive place, we really put each other through the ringer to get there. For a while I found I was avoiding saying how I felt in order to avoid the inevitable fight that would follow. Lately though, in large part to your father’s efforts, we are trying to fight more productively. To avoid the middle section and to move faster to the mutual hearing of each other. We tried the marriage councilor trick of repeating what the other said to make sure we were listening and understanding. “So, you’re saying, you’re concerned about blankety blank and that it makes you feel blank. Is that right?”  And though this technique has the ability to work – on occasion keeping us calm and on point – sometimes in the heat of a moment you forget to go there and go to the dark place instead. In those instances, your father has taken it on himself to try and avoid his oft repeated step of getting fired up and counterbalancing with something I’ve done – which not only took us way off topic, but made us both super mad – and I’m attempting to stop shutting down when things aren’t going as I’d like. With those steps out of the equation, we’re better able to tackle issues head on without the fear of the fight itself holding us back.

Are we perfect? No. Are we working to be better? Yes. And I would take our fighting any day over the silent seething that other people do. The people who’s go to answer when asked what’s wrong is “Nothing” and then walk around feeling bitter and unheard. Your Granny has a tendency to do that. Her voice, her body language, her entire demeanor says “I’m furious” but when you ask what the issue is, she’s say she’s fine. It’s not true, nor is it productive. I have a tendency to get worked up about things quite quickly, but I’m also quick to move on if we can address the issue at hand. My problem lies in when we can’t because one person isn’t admitting there’s a problem. You can’t get the elephant out of the room if one person is pretending they can’t see it.

irenesavavese.com

Fighting is going to happen. It is. It’s life. Try and keep things civil and kind and if the matter must be discussed, then get on with it. Ignoring the problem doesn’t make it go away. Sometimes it just makes it worse. Maybe that was my mistake with my friend. Perhaps I should have just been like, “Step away from the phone…” earlier and we might have been able to laugh and move on, but as it was, I acted like I was fine until my “nothing” blew up in my face.

One last thing I’d like to mention is physical fighting. Personally, I don’t think there’s ever a need to strike someone in anger. Self-defense and protecting another is understandable, but an assault record will follow you forever so be very careful what position you put yourself in. I don’t get physical fighting but I’m also the first to admit I’m a girl, and I get that it’s different for boys. The only time I really had a sense of what boys go through was after college when I got into a fight leaving a club with one of my closest girlfriends. I hadn’t been drinking but she had, and she refused to let me drive my car home. I was furious. I wasn’t drunk. I needed it the next morning for work and leaving it in a downtown parking lot overnight was a ridiculous inconvenience to give her (inebriated) peace of mind. She was so adamant though that I finally broke down and took a cab home with her. About 3 minutes into the ride – the hostility in the air was so thick you could feel it – she laid off and punched me in the arm. Hard. I was shocked. But I did what any sane person would do and I punched her back. I like to think we grappled in the back of the cab for another minute but it was probably more like flailing, broken wrist, up-and-down-hands that girls often do when they fight. After we’d expelled all our energy, we sat back and took a deep breath and she said, “I feel better don’t you?” And I did. Completely better. All our ire had been extinguished in the rush of physicality and I thought, is this why boys fight? Like literally hitting each other to end the fight? They might have something there. Girls have a way of mind f*^#ing each other for years over an argument. Would we all be better off just to wrestle?

en.wikipedia.org

Look, you do what you can – the best you can – to resolve your conflicts with people. Holding grudges is a waste of your energy. I wish I could save you from all pain, all hurt, but sometimes it’s the tough moments in life that really shape who we are. Hit things head on when need be, and walk away when you can. Anger dissipates, but how you behave in moments of anger can define your character forever.

Who do you want to be?

I love you. I trust you’ll make the best choices possible. And remember, I’m always in your corner.

xo your mom

empowermentexperience.com

Apr 2

8 Comments

Style and Fashion

Dear Lochie,

Boy, I could rock this post if you had a sister, however it’d be like 10 pages long, and she’d totally ignore it because no girl wants fashion advice from her mother, so this might be better. Personally, I love men’s fashion. I always have. I’m all about the well dressed man. There’s absolutely a time and place for baseball caps and cargos, but when you feel like stepping away from that, I think I can be of some service to you. I realize your future girlfriends will probably get involved too, but let’s give them a little something to work with…

As a general rule let’s just say look nice. That doesn’t mean you can’t wear what’s comfortable, it just means make some semblance of an effort. Your appearance is a message to the world about how you feel about yourself and how you’d like to be perceived. A well dressed man gets noticed. If you look good, you feel good. And believe it or not, you will be taken – and take yourself – more seriously if you’ve made an effort.

Everything is bad in this picture from backtobudda.com

There are lots of men to look to for inspiration. Men used to dress very stylishly. Suits and hats were dereguire, and men looked sharp no matter where they went. Then we went through a period of style drought where everything was hideously ugly (the 70’s), or over the top (the 80’s) and then caring about how you looked was somehow frowned upon as vain or unmanly (the hideous grunge 90’s). I personally lived through flannel on flannel and double denim being the height of fashion. We are now entering a phase where men can dress with some attention without fear of mocking or judgement. Style is back, and for that I am very glad.

Beautiful, classy Cary Grant from finemoviesonline.com

As far as stylish men to take your cue from (other than your father, who definitely has it going on), you might want to look at: Cary Grant, Steve McQueen, Tom Ford, David Bekham, George Clooney, Ryan Renolds, or pretty much anyone on this list from Esquire, my personal favorite men’s mag.

As far as dressing, there are some simple rules beyond the no sandals and socks stuff that can make any outfit look better. These are great things too keep in mind as you put yourself together. This is by no means a complete list, but more of a guideline on which to build your personal sense of style.

Stand up straight – this is something I myself am terrible at, but plan to push on you as much as possible. Own your whole body. Don’t slouch around and diminish what you’ve been given. Be proud of your physique and wear those clothes lest they wear you.

Iron – not your T-shirts or God forbid, your jeans – but your dress shirts and suits (of which you should own at least one fabulously fitting one at all times). Try not to look rumpled unless it’s a deliberate choice you are cultivating a la Johnny Depp. His style may not be my favorite, but at least he’s got one.

Look after your shoes – dingy, dirty, gross shoes say a lot about a man. This is not to say you can’t have well loved, warn in boots – those can be fabulous – but avoid scuffed, uncared for shoes at the bottom of your pants. It screws up everything above them. When it comes to your shoes take some care. You should own a solid collection. I’m not saying be Imelda Marcos. I’m just saying that a pair of sneakers and a some flip flops aren’t going to cut it. Sure you should have trainers for working out, but you should also have a great pair of sneakers to wear with pants and shorts. Dress sneakers I like to call them. You should purchase at least one pair of dress shoes (though black & brown give you more options),  and keep them shined and taken care of. I’d also advise making sure they’re both comfortable and something you truly want to wear rather than just a generic “dress shoes” with laces. I’d advise investing in a pair of dress boots too. Sleek ones that can be worn with jeans or a dress pant. Your Dad got a pair of Too Boot NY dress boots two years ago and he’s in love with them. We’d be buying more if we could afford the price tag. Speaking of price tags, invest in a pair of cool, rugged boots like Frys, or the like, that you can wear daily with jeans. Finally finish up the shoe shelf with a summer shoe like Toms or flips (watch out that your feet aren’t gross) and a winter boot to wear in the snow. Sounds like a lot? To be honest, you could have way more and still be nowhere near dandy territory.

Same guy in an ill fitted and well fitted suit. Pretty big difference, no? fabmanual.wordpress.com

Watch the fit of your clothes. Make sure your clothes aren’t too big or too small. Fitted is good. Tight is bad. Loose is good. Baggy is bad. Your clothes should skim your body. Graze your muscles not stick to them. Always try things on before you buy them. You might be a Medium in one store and a Large in another. Get to know what looks good on you and work with that. Just because something’s “in” doesn’t mean you should be in it. Not all people can wear all looks, and the height of style starts at dressing for you not for the trends. Right now super skinny jeans are being seen on men all over town. Your father -who actually has a butt – can not pull these pants off and he knows it. He looks good in a boot cut pant that fits and balances his body. He smartly sticks with what works. Don’t be a fashion victim.

Ryan Reynolds always looks great as seen on askmen.com

Find a tailor – Fancy? Sure. But a good tailor can make all the difference between looking good and looking great. If something almost fits, you can use a tailor to make it perfect. Narrow out the sleeves, take in the waist. You can not however make a jacket fit your shoulders better. You have to get that right when you buy it.

Buy the best of what you can afford. But remember, just because it’s expensive doesn’t necessarily make it the best. Don’t get caught up in labels. It’s worth paying money for good quality fabrics and workmanship but not for the name in the back – or God forbid across your chest. Things that are worth splurging on are things like suits, shoes, sunglasses, a great pair of jeans, a leather jacket, a blazer and a watch. The things that last, fill out your wardrobe, and make a statement. But for the most part the $29 Gap t-shirt will work just as well as the $100 t-shirt from Vince.

Bekham is a style horse, in no short part to his wife. Seen here looking great at omgnews.com

Avoid the color beige or off white. Mostly it just looks like you’re soiled and it flatters few skin tones. Avoid bolo ties, pointy dress shoes, mock turtlenecks, one piece anythings, and any clothes that look like they’ve been tattooed, bedazzled or pre-ripped (I’m talking to you Ed Hardy). Turtlenecks in general are a difficult look to pull off. There are exceptions that work in a knit for a kind of retro-Aspen-ski-vacation vibe, but in general but you might wanna stick with a crew, V, or henley as the neckline for your shirts.

Keep your clothes clean. Unless you rock at laundry (which I don’t, so I have no discernible skills to teach you), find a good dry cleaner for your better stuff. Too many good things have been ruined by inept laundering.

Don "Boy can he rock a suit" Draper at the villagevoice.com

When buying a suit, it’d be my advice to stick with a one or two button, single breasted jacket with flat front pants. Again, this is not a hard and fast rule but more of a strong suggestion. Few men can pull off the double breasted look without looking like gangsters or older business men, and pleated pants are only necessary if you’re doing a 1940’s thing or are overweight and can’t pull off a flat front. When trying a suit on, think about what you need it for. If you’re only going to own one suit, you want it to be multi-seasonal – a 10 month suit if you will – and appropriate for multiple uses. Ask for a shirt and tie when trying it on so you get the real feel and look, and pick a material that you A: like the feeling of and B: is breathable. This is where putting in a couple extra dollars is helpful.  A nice black (good color to start with), light weight wool suit can take you so many places. You can wear it with a tie in a formal or business setting. You can wear it with an open shirt to look sharp on the town. You can loosen the tie or wear it with a cool t-shirt (if this is a look you like and can pull off) for a hip downtown vibe, and you can wear both pieces separate from each other as a blazer and pants. A piece of clothing that multipurpose deserves to be splurged on. But, at the very least, consider fit and fabric as your primary goals. I’ve seen your Dad rock a $350 H&M suit because it fits like a glove and he feels good in it. I read in GQ once that wearing a suit doesn’t have to be a lesson in conformity. The note was, “Wear a suit. Don’t look like one.” Take a look at Don Draper played by John Hamm, on the currently popular television show Mad Men. He couldn’t look more like a Man and less like a corporate drone if he tried.

The tuxedo that caused your father to have his tuxedo tailored. Seen at lehighvalleylive.com

If you can, invest in a tuxedo. Get a great fitting, good quality tuxedo with classic, trim styling. It’s amazing how nice it is to have one of these in your wardrobe and not have to rent one every time you need to dress up. Plus, if you invest in a classic one you feel good in, you’re pretty much set for every formal occasion in the next 15 years if you don’t outgrow it in the girth department. It’d also be my advice to consider the vest over the cummerbund. Few can pull off the satin cinch belt without looking foolish or, at the very least, uncomfortable. A vest or, as we’re seeing more and more these days, just the pants themselves, are great for a cleaner, slicker look. You can then decide if you want to wear a straight or a bow tie – preferably that you tie yourself – and your shirt should have a little pin tuck interest. No ruffles ever. Unless you’re being ironic. Then have at it.

As far as accessories go, consider the following:  Glasses can look exceptionally cool. If you have to wear them, really wear them. Don’t pick frames that hide on your face or you hope will fade away. Pick bold frames you can really rock. Your Dad had subtle glasses for a while but always felt nerdy in them. He switched them up for black “geek chic” Ray Ban Wayfarers, and even though it’s a classically nerdier look, he loves them and looks way cooler for it. Personally, I’m big on scarves for men. Big ones in the winter to keep out the cold and thin ones in the warmer months to add to an outfit. A t-shirt and jeans gets a total makeover when you add a scarf. Don’t be afraid of the accessory. It can really elevate an outfit with very minimal effort. A well chosen cuff link or pocket square can be an understated way to distinguish yourself from the crowd. Hats are having a resurgence right now. I hope that sticks around. Hats look fabulous on men. Not baseball caps – which have their place and can be cute in a sporty, collegiate way – but real, hat, hats. Find one that balances your body and face. As always, forget what’s hip and figure out what works for you. What goes with your clothes, your life, your personality? Also remember that thicker fabrics, like wool or felt, are good in the fall/winter and the raffia/straw type ones are good in the spring/summer (or if you still live in LA, almost all year round). If you wear one, just be sure to own it and not fuss with it.  Finally, jewelry on men is really taking off these days. Personally, I’m a purist in the male bling department, and tend to like the less is more approach. I like elegant watches without jewels, plain wedding bands and the occasional necklace or cuff. I know more and more men are wearing multiple rings, earrings, and bracelets, and that gem stones are finding their way into men’s wardrobes, but I’ll take an understated gentleman over a gilded peacock any day.

Be flexible and aware of dressing for where you are. If you don’t normally dress up for dinner at home (which we only do on holidays) but you’re at someone’s house that does, fall in. We had the opposite thing at the cottage one year when a friend of mine brought her boyfriend for the weekend and he wore slacks and Prada loafers the entire time. He looked good, but totally out of place and came off pretty pomp-y if truth be told. Respect the environment. For our Honeymoon your Dad and I went to Greece and Italy and we didn’t pack any shorts or crew neck t-shirts. Too American. Too casual. Instead we went with the ‘When in Rome’ mentality and dressed like the locals. I wore a lot of skirts and dresses, and your Dad wore a lot of linen pants and polos. He even ended up buying one of those shorty short bathing suits because 2 days into our trip he said he felt like “Joe America” in his huge, oversized surf shorts. Turns out he looked great in his Euro suit. But you have to be willing to bend a bit in order to figure that stuff out.

Jake Gyllenhaal looking great in accessories at isabellasnow.com. A smirk wouldn't hurt him though.

They say that clothes make the man, but it’s the man himself that’s really important. Be a man worth taking notice of. Be a good man. A stand up man. An honest man. Sure dress well and take care of yourself – your hygiene, your stray hairs, the way you smell – but never hide behind your aesthetic and for goodness sakes smile. You might look terrific but if you’re just Broody McBroody pants, no one’s going to want to hang out with you anyway.

Ultimately, the bottom line of fashion is to make it feel like you. Find your own personal way of dressing that is reflective of who you are. Your style will change as you age but it should always be distinctly and individually Loch.

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” – Mark Twain

I love you baby. Knock em dead!

xo Mommy

Mar 26

11 Comments

Your Mom – A Get To Know You Game

Loch,

I plan for you to love me. Respect me. Be annoyed by me. Appreciate me. Wish I’d leave you alone for a while. The whole gambit. But should things take a turn I didn’t expect, I still want you to know me. To know I loved you. To know who I was, warts and all. People that are gone have a tendency to be remembered as saints, and that’s a lot to live up to. I’ll tell you right now, I’m no saint. I’m nice. I’m loving. I’m friendly. I’m loyal. But I’m also a bit vain, slightly over analytical, have limited patience, am a worrier and a panicker and do all together too much swearing. The truth of the matter is, there is no way I can possibly let you know everything about myself from my posts alone, so I thought I’d supplement the process by doing a number of ‘Get To Know You’ questionnaires and sprinkling them throughout the blog. My personal fav, the Proust Questionnaire (often seen in the back of Vanity Fair), will be among them.

The most important thing for you to know about me is that I love you. You are the joy of my life. You are the best thing I ever did. Truly. 

Now writing this feels a little self-important (and long) but, should I not be around later, these might be nice things to know. These 50 questions are from sparkpeople.com and will hopefully give you insight into the little nuances that make up your mother.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? No. But I do have the same name as Granny’s cousin Leigh, and almost had the same name as Granny’s cousin Brooke. Not sure why we stuck with family names, but there you go. I also know that Granny deliberately chose a name that “couldn’t be shortened” and then spent a good part of my childhood lengthening my name to things like, Leigh-dee, Leigh-dee-pa-dee-dee or Leigh-ski. My name meant continually telling people my name was not in fact short for Emily or Lesley or anything else, and the spelling has lead to a life of telling people my name is pronounced Lee and not Lay. When we named you, we seriously considered going with Locklan so everyone would always be able to phonically sound out your name, but between my name and half the people who call your Dad “Seen”, we figured if people wanted to mispronounce your name and call you Lowch-lan, let em. When it really came down to it, I can’t guarantee that continually correcting people – in front of everyone on the first day of class, say – didn’t somehow make me a bolder person. And bold ain’t bad.

indiawires.com

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?   I most recently cried in frustration at my continued need to ask for money from Granddad, and the subsequent shame I feel having to justify my life choices every time I do. Your grandparents are incredibly generous and without them we’d be screwed. Mostly it’s about me being sick. They pay for most of my medical bills, for my acupuncture and monitored exercise, and for the extra classes I put you in. They also help out when we get into a bind like when my old car died in the drive thru of McDonalds. Humiliating for your father ,who had to push the car out of the way. Fascinating for you, who watched the whole thing go down, and discouraging for me, who knew that I’d have to make a phone call to ask for money for the repairs. The thing is baby, we’re artists, and we don’t yet make the kind of money that we’d like. Our life is a struggle, and money, or the lack there of, is probably our biggest source of pain and discord. It’s pretty much the only thing Dad and I fight about. But it’s a heafty thing. I want you to be able to come to us for help if you need it (God knows I hope our financial future finds us in the position to help), but I would also steer you towards making your own money. Do what you love, just know you have to hustle and work. The bohemian life is only charming to a point. And asking your parents for money when you have your own kids…Sucks.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? I like my printing – and I do a mean bubble letter for signs – but I can’t do cursive and I’m pretty sure a handwriting person would have a field day with me, as my writing changes from day to day. It’s always one of 3 styles but they aren’t even remotely similar. It depends on my mood/fatigue, time constraints, and the necessity for legibility. But occasionally my handwriting will change right in the middle of a letter. Very weird.

lifesambrosia.com

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? I’m not really a lunch meat girl. I like salad sandwiches – tuna, egg, chicken, salmon – I like grilled cheese. I like the chicken sandwiches Granny makes with hunks of chicken and lettuce on white bread with lots of mayo, and I love PB&J – smooth not chunky – But deli meat? Not so much.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Sure do. Best kid ever.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Yes. I’m a good friend. A devoted friend. Plus, I’m usually the person that says something when others are too embarrassed and that often helps out.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM ALOT? I do. I like sarcasm. I know people think it’s a snarky form of humor but a well placed sarcastic comment can bring a room down. I just try not to be cranky about it.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes. And my appendix. And my wisdom teeth. They never came down so I’m sure they’re still there…somewhere in my face.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Never. And I have to tell you babe, I’d advise against it for you too. Research is now showing that it can result in permanent internal organ damage. If you must get some mad thrills, I’d prefer you went sky diving. Your dad loved it and wants desperately to go again. Personally, I’d rather you both passed. But I’m making a solid effort to not be ‘that girl’.

thesweetdetail.blogspot.com

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Oh cereal! I love me some cereal. I eat cereal almost every single morning. Favorite ever would probably be Corn Pops (the Canadian kind, not the American kind) or Post Raisen Bran (not Kellogs) or Frosted Mini Wheats. Though lately I’ve been doing a lot of Cheerios and Granola. That’s the thing about cereal, you can switch it up with your mood. When I was little Fruit Loops were my favorite, but I only ever got them with Grand Mimi, or on our cottage’s opening weekend, when you got that variety pack of small boxes and they were included. When I became a college student living on my own, I remember buying a big box of Fruit Loops just because I could. To this day though, I can’t really eat them for breakfast. There more of a late night snack kinda thing.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? No. I slip out of all of my shoes…and then I leave them everywhere. It’s a bad habit I share with you and your father. Our house is like an obstacle course of shoes.

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Physically. I used to be. Now, not so much. Emotionally, probably not. I’m pretty sensitive. Spritually, yes. I go through every day doing what I need to to survive and be happy. I just keep trying.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Haagen Dazs Chocolate and Peanut Butter. Which is weird because I’m not a chocolate and peanut butter type of girl. I don’t even like Reeses Peanut Butter cups. But this ice cream is ridiculous. I generally eat it right out of the carton, and when I lived alone in NYC I had to actually stop myself from buying it because I could eat an entire pint in one day. I’d stand in the kitchen and tell myself I’d stop when the ice cream was flat (meaning I’d evened it out on all sides) but then I’d get a PB swirl and it would go into the next layer and then I’d have to flatten that one out…It was like OCD eating. A close second would be homemade peach ice cream at the cottage.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Their clothes. It’s an easy one to see and make a call on from afar. And then the face. If I like it or not. Kind or not kind. Sour or sweet. Attractive or not…

15. RED OR PINK? Red. Pink and I were never close.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? I have very limited patience and my skin is problematic.

Making Grand Mimi laugh. You'd also just stolen her sandwich.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? Grand Mimi. Shows you what a blessed life I’ve had that the person that I miss most lived to 97. I don’t want to be your answer to this question.

18. WHATS YOUR PET PEEVE? Inefficient/Cryptic voice mail messages. “Hi, it’s Blank. I need to ask you something. Call me back.” Then you call back and inevitably get a machine and have to say, “Hi, it’s me. You needed to ask me something? What’s up? Call me back.” What a waste of time. If you’re leaving a message say what you need, give me the details and when I call you back I can give you the information whether I get you or not, and the productivity of the situation moves along.* Better yet, send an email.

19. WHAT COLOR SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Very old, beaten up cream cowboy boots. But really my answer should be no shoes because when I get home the first thing I do is take off my shoes – and then change into sweats (sorry Sean).

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20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A chocolate from Sees Candy. I’ve recently become that woman who eats chocolates. Like bon bon chocolates. I’m a horrible cliche. But I’m hooked. You went trick-or-treating this year and I didn’t want any of your candy. All I could think of was a dark chocolate scotch mallow or a milk chocolate vanilla cream from Sees. I may be a cliche but at least I’ve got good taste.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? I’m loving the new tune “We are Young” by Fun featuring Janelle Maonae. It makes me so happy. It reminds me of my youth. It makes me think of your future. It’s such a positive, cool tune.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Really? A crayon? I don’t want to be a crayon. Next!

23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Sunscreen (coconuts), pine trees and bacon (cottage smells), Cool Water colone (reminds me of my youth), the ocean and home made roast beef dinner and chocolate chip cookies.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Sean. He called from the garage to ask me a question about something I’d said was wrong with the computer. Real phone call? The president of your co-op to discuss yet another thing regarding the silent auction for your fundraiser. People, like me, that willingly go into these kinds of volunteer jobs are slightly crazy. Fundraising is no joke. It can wipe you out.

citypictures.net

25. MOUNTAIN HIDEAWAY OR BEACH HOUSE? Beach house. I can’t really do altitudes with PH. But I think I’d still choose the beach house. I love the ocean. Not so much swimming in it. I prefer a pool. Or eating on it. I’m not crazy for sand. But if we had endless money I would have a beach house. I feel calm by the water. Heck, if we had endless money I’d probably want a mountain place too. You were so into learning to ski at Big Bear this winter. I’d love to give you more opportunities to do it.

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?     Live – Hockey. TV – none. I find sports on TV mind numbing.

27. HAIR COLOR? Auburn or gold. I color it trying to recapture the hair of my youth. I used to say the color was “toasted eggo”. I thought it was an accurate description and far more true than blond.

28. EYE COLOR? Blue. Though they change colors with what I’m wearing. So they can also be green or grey.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Nix. Great vision.

chattingkitchen.com

30. FAVORITE FOOD? This is tough. I LOVE food. It’s been a problem since I got sick because I used to work out all the time and eat pretty much whatever I wanted. Now, not so much. Those chocolates I mentioned are a real issue. Sick is one thing. Sick and fat, is totally another. I’m trying to keep it in check, but I’d say…cheese, bread, roast beef with pan roasted potatoes and carrots or mac & cheese made by Granny. Lemon or Yellow cake from a box. Superb sushi. Great pasta (no alfredo sauce) or a hamburger and fries. Oh hell, fries in general.

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Happy Endings. I don’t like to be scared. I watched the Exorcist when I was 11 and I never got over it. Scarred for life.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? 21 Jump Street. They did a great job. Super funny and totally what I wanted it to be.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Grey. You can pretty much assume I’m wearing white, grey, black or army green. My friend Keili once described my style as urban safari. I think that’s pretty accurate.

34. SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer!!! I love summer. Maybe it’s a, “it’s my birthday” thing, but I love everything about it. The heat, the long days, the fact that I get to drink on patios and go to the cottage. Even though I’ve lived in LA for 9 years where it’s pretty much always summer, I still get excited when the 24th of May rolls around – Memorial Day to my US crew and May 2-4 to my North of the Border peeps – and I know that soon I can stick my hand out the car window and feel the warm air on my skin. I love that.

selene-emotion.deviantart.com

35. HUGS OR KISSES? I guess hugs. You can get a lot from a hug and you can get them from more people. I remember I’d been in NY for about 2 months after moving there and someone at my school gave me a hug, and I started to cry. I had no boyfriend and hadn’t seen my parents or friends in a while, and I realized that it’d been a really long time since I’d been hugged. Human contact is very important to happiness. I personally can’t stop hugging and kissing you.

36. FAVORITE DESSERT? In general – cookies. Always cookies over cake or pie. In a restaurant – I’d probably go warm chocolate cake, though I’ve been known to branch out. Desserts are a great place to take a risk.

37. STRENGTH TRAINING OR CARDIO? I’m a pilates girl now. But even when I went to the gym all the time, cardio was my least favorite. And yoga and I have never seen eye to eye.

38. COMPUTER OR TELEVISION? How could I choose? Couldn’t live without? Computer. Like the best? Television. Or lately, television on my computer. Best of both worlds.

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? Just finished rereading The Hunger Games on my iPad. I’m blow-out -nerd-excited about the movie. I guess next I should finally start the 4th book in the Game of Thrones series. I loved the first 3. Don’t know what’s stopping me from starting number 4.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? My mouse pad? No mouse pad Mr. Outdated Questionnaire.

42. FAVORITE SOUND? Your laugh. Rain on the roof of the cottage.

listenupdenver.com

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles. Though I’d take the Beach Boys over either of them.

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? I guess Bali.

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I’m super fast at figuring out vanity plates on cars.

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Wellsley Hospital, Toronto, ON Canada.

47. WHERE ARE YOU LIVING NOW? In a lovely little house in Studio City, CA.

48. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR HOUSE? Dirty white. But since it’s a rental, we’re hesitant about putting any more of our money into beautification.

49. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR CAR? Black 2012 Ford Explorer. I love it. I’ve wanted a black truck since I first started driving. I finally got one this year and I’m so thrilled. (See: Anticipation). You named it Schatzy. It’s totally stuck.

50. DO YOU LIKE ANSWERING 50 QUESTIONS? Actually it was pretty cool. Self knowledge is a good thing.

I love you baby. Get to know yourself and embrace all you are. I’m so very proud of you.

xoxo your mommy

The Family McGowan in our Loch's 4 Birthday Shirts that your Dad designed. I'm pretty sure you'll outgrow wanting to match with your parents, but for now we're embracing it!

*only time this doesn’t work is for very personal information not to be left on answering machines. Deaths, Births, Engagements. Otherwise just tell me what you need!

Mar 19

8 Comments

Sex

Dear Loch,

I’ve recently become obsessed with a television series called Friday Night Lights. I’m a little late to the party as the entire series has already aired, pilot to finale, but I don’t think it makes a difference. It’s an incredibly engaging show with compelling acting and directing, with a camera style that lends an authenticity to the show that makes you feel like you’re really in the room with these people. I was particularly taken with a recent episode called “I think we should have sex” in which the 15 year old daughter of the main characters plans to have sex with her boyfriend and her mother finds out. Connie Britton’s performance is nothing short of amazing.  She is truly shaken by the idea that her daughter is thinking of this and she expresses her feelings with equal parts grace and fury. Though I think it’s different if you have a son rather than a daughter, in no short part to the double standard known to all, it’s still something I’ve found myself thinking a lot about since I saw that episode. Where do I stand on this? What’s my take?

Baby, I realize you’re 4, but they’ll come a day when you’re not, and all too soon this will become a thing, and it’s a thing worth talking about.

First of all let me say I honestly debated not writing on this subject because…well, gross. These pieces of advice are supposed to come in small doses in casual conversation, where you can nod and leave the room immediately after so no one feels uncomfortable. I want you to be able to come to me with any question, have me answer clearly and susintly without judgement, and allow you to go on your way with both the facts, and very limited awkwardness. I also don’t want you to think I’m promoting sex, because I’m not. It’s a big deal and something that shouldn’t be taken lightly. But the truth of the matter is, eventually you’re going to do it, and whether you’re in high school or college or beyond, I think young people get into the most trouble when no one talks about it. If you feel you’re ready (and quite frankly you’re over 16 – because before that, I’m sorry you’re just too damn young) then I want you to be prepared.

The thing is, I have no problem talking about sex, but I know that talking to your parents about sex is pretty hideous, no matter how cool the parent. So, I’ll give you the rundown as I know it, and try to keep my personal antidotes to a bare minimum. You should never be embarrassed about sex. It’s not an embarrassing thing. It is, however, a private thing. A personal thing. A not-for-mass-consumption thing.

Ok, so, before you start doing it with other people (preferably one-on-one) you will do it alone. That’s good. It’s an important step. It’s totally normal and everyone does it. You can just tell us one day that you think you need a lock on your door and we’ll get it. No one wants that moment of discovery.

But when it really comes down to it, don’t rush into anything. Not just because adding sex to your life stops your childhood in it’s tracks, but because there are lots of other things you can do before you burden yourself with that responsibility. Don’t feel the need to speed things along or rush to an imaginary finish line. Kissing rocks. When I was a teenager I could literally kiss for hours. I miss that. Really, truly, miss it. The make out years are the best. And once you’re past kissing, there are still tons to things to do before sex. Back in the day we used to say “Everything but…” I remember Granny asking me once what that meant. I was like, “Uh, everything but…pause for her to get it, she didn’t…sigh, Sex. Everything but sex.”  Because once you’ve had sex, it’s always on the table, and you tend to rush right to it and forget about all the other awesome things you did before it was in the game. And I’m not talking about awesome things like playing sports and hanging with your friends. I’m talking about sexual things you do with a partner. I’m just saying, master one set of skills before moving to another. Trust me, women your whole life will thank you.

That’s the thing babe, for the most part, life is long. There will be plenty of time to explore. Plenty of opportunities. Don’t feel like, “I gotta just do it now. I might not get another chance.” There’ll always be another chance, and if you can wait till you’re really in love for sex, then wait. Your dad had sex for the first time at 16 with his long term girlfriend. I was 19 and with my first real boyfriend in University. Had I made different decisions with the boys I talked about in Regrets, I might have been in High School too. But the point is, we were both in relationships. Committed, long term relationships and that’s what I’d advise for you.

Listen, you can have great sex with someone you feel nothing for – mostly because you’re uninhibited and don’t really care what they think – but it doesn’t feel so great after. Try and find someone you really like and trust, so you aren’t self conscious and you want to hang out with them the next day. I’m not saying never have a one night stand or hook up with someone just for fun.  I’m just saying don’t make it a habit. It’s like junk food. Great in moderation but mostly you want to fill your life with healthy stuff that really feeds you.

As you edge your way into sex or sexual situations and experiences, here are some things I want you to know:

First and foremost, if you are having sex, you are using protection. Period. And that protection must be condoms. Unless they have created something that surpasses condoms in ability to prevent the spread of disease and avoid unwanted pregnancies by the time you’re dealing with this, you will be using condoms. Not sometimes. All. The. Time. It is your responsibility. You are in charge. When you’re in a relationship and you know that you’re both monogamous and disease free, then other forms of birth control can be considered appropriate. But NEVER, NEVER just forget. Never. I can’t stress this enough. Sex can be a lot of fun. But it comes with responsibility, and if you screw that up it goes from a good time to a bad time really fast.

I want you to know that porn girls are not real girls. They are naked actresses who are bleached and pumped and waxed within an inch of their lives. Don’t expect real girls to look or behave like that. I think girls today feel the need to perform much more to keep up appearances. Trust me, real sex can be awesome but it can also be pretty funny and sometimes pretty messy. Respect the real girl you’re with. Don’t make her feel she has to be a tanned, gumby doll to please you.

Threesomes are overrated. I’m not saying don’t do one. I’m just saying they aren’t customary. They’re a sexual blip that somehow has become mainstream. When did one partner become banal? Why are we fixated on making it wilder? Different? Crazier? Plain old sex can be plenty steamy. You don’t need to add another person to make it better. Sometimes it just makes it confusing.

Don’t keep anything you tape. All must be deleted. I promise this is excellent advice.

There will come a time when you stop sharing every detail with your friends. That’s normal. It usually coincides with your first real relationship. But until that point, talk about it if you can. That’s how you learn – by combining your, minimal, experiences. I’m not sure if guys talk like girls, but I am very grateful to my friends for all their insight. I never went into any sexual situation blind. I was taught how to do almost everything by my more experienced friends so I never felt like I was floundering. Just be sure not to brag or say anything that might embarrass your partner. Talk, just be classy about it.

Before you add a partner to the mix you might want to consider what used to be called maintenance, and is now referred to as “manscaping”. Take the time to clean up the business. I’m not talking about waxing or anything extreme, I’m just saying, keep everything neat and clean.

Speaking from the other side of the coin I can tell you this. Stay in shape. Cardio, strength, agility and general esthetics all help in this department. Be careful with stubble. It’s sharp and it hurts. Don’t be the guy with too much saliva. Keep your tongue in your mouth until you get to the lips. I remember kissing a very handsome boy in high school who literally had his tongue out of his mouth 2 feet before he got to me. It was all I could do not to lean away. Focus on other areas of the body rather than just the obvious. It’s annoying to have someone come at you with just one thing in mind. It’s going to happen. Don’t be desperate about it. Also, don’t hesitate. It’s a little like driving. If you’re going to change lanes, change lanes. If you’re going to kiss her, kiss her. Pay attention, so you can tell what’s working and take her cues, but don’t waffle or second guess yourself. Make your moves with deliberation. And don’t hook up with someone if you really want their friend. It’s mean and it makes people feel used.

Finally, be open to learning. To having someone teach you the ropes. Really pay attention. A guy I once knew told me he’d dated an older woman who’d taught him everything, and felt she done him a major favor. Whether it’s an older woman, or an open and vocal girlfriend, bother to learn. Be the guy who knows what he’s doing. I’m not understating it to say that guy is remembered long past the others.

platformbedsonline.com

Wash your sheets. Make your bed (it’s more appealing to get in to whether you’re alone or with someone else). Be clean. Use hand towels not kleenex. Get to know your own body so it doesn’t betray or embarrass you. Buy good underwear. And for God sake, have fun. Enjoy your youth. Respect your partners and stay healthy and child free.

I’m not ready to be a granny just yet.

xo your mom

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