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Posts from the ‘Letters to my son’ Category

Mar 5

12 Comments

Religion and Faith

Dear Loch,

Every night before I go to bed I come in to check on you. I check to see if you’re covered up, or sleeping across the bed, if you’re too hot or cold, and if needed, I adjust things to make you more comfortable. Then I kiss you, tell you I love you, and go to bed myself. The other night I was so overcome with love for you, that I felt the need to kneel down at your bedside and thank God. I thanked him for giving me such a blessing. I prayed for your health and safety. For your happiness and joy. I prayed that you’ll be blessed with love and success. And finally, I asked God to keep me around for as long as possible. I told him that I wanted to be a Grandmother.*

truthlighthouse.com

The thing is, I realize now that I should speak to you about faith – about religion – because it’s something that people learn from their families. It’s something, that should I be around, you will learn via osmosis, but if I’m not here for you to just absorb the lessons, I’d like you to know where I stand. People say never to discuss politics or religion, as the issues themselves are too polarizing. At the end of the day faith and religion are very personal choices and something that you’ll have to decide for yourself. I just want you to know what your father and I believe, so you go into that choice with a point of reference. You might decide to take a different path, but you should always know where you started.

My childhood church, St. John's York Mills. Image from wikipedia

I think it’d be fair to say I come from a “Church” background. Not Religious, capital R, but Church, capital C. I went to St. Johns York Mills almost every Sunday of my life (excluding summers when we were at the cottage) till I was 15 and confirmed. After that we stopped going regularly.  I’m not really sure why that was. I guess I had essentially completed all my “schooling” and didn’t have a place there anymore aside from the general congregation and that didn’t interest me. Maybe my parents went every weekend for me – to give me a good foundation – and once I had it, we could do something else…. I don’t really know. What I do know is, after 16, sleeping in on Sunday morning was more appealing than church. I just didn’t feel the need to go anymore and Granny and Granddad didn’t see the need to force me. I had taken what I could out of my religious training, and now could run with it. Looking back though, I can say that those foundation years were wonderful for me. I loved Sunday school. The stories. The songs. The friends. I joined the church choir and drama club. I loved the annual Church Bizarre (Granny was in charge of prizes and I got to choose them with her every year), and I loved my Confirmation class – though in hindsight, perhaps that was more for a particular boy, than the class itself. For a long time I would have described myself as religious. I took it all very seriously. A friend once told me I wasn’t just a Christian, I was a Creationist. Meaning I believed everything the Bible said as truth, and at the time, she was probably right. It wasn’t till years later that I really started to think about those beliefs I’d held since childhood.

Over the years I’ve had the opportunity to question everything, and have come to a place where I’d say I’m Christian because it’s the path I’m most familiar with on my way to God. I feel comfortable with the Christian concept of God. With God’s forgiveness and love. With the Anglican/Episcopalian church, it’s traditions and inclusivity. And, I believe our spirits go somewhere when we die. I believe we can be with our loved ones again after death. Or at least I believe we’re blissfully happy. I realize this is not a belief that everyone shares, but it’s one that I’ve always held on to, and now that I’m sick I find great comfort in. When I was first diagnosed with PH I ordered a book called Pulmonary Hypertension: A Patient’s Survival Guide. In it there’s a first person narrative told by a PH patient who’s had the disease since 1983 (Take that 2-3 years!!!). The story stands out because the rest of the book is written in a clinical and informational way so you can better navigate the disease. This particular section is a personal memory, included I’m assuming, to reassure those of us dealing with our diagnoses. In the story the writer remembers a time before she knew she had PH and was driving in the mountains with her husband and 8-year-old daughter. When she got out of the car to walk around she passed out. Altitude is not kind to PH patients. According to her husband she stopped breathing and had no pulse. He got her out of the snow to the front seat of the car to try and revive her. During this time she writes that she floated above the scene “looking down through the metal roof of our car at that poor unconscious woman.” She says she felt wonderful. That there was a warmth on her back and it seemed as if her “very molecules were loosening” so that she “was expanding into the universe.” Then her little girl screamed “Mommy! Mommy!” and she writes she had to “squeeze back into her body” to soothe her. In that moment she recalls her body feeling “cramped and limiting.” She finishes her story by saying, “I don’t know what to make of all this. But we seem to come equipped with all we need to deal with the entire course of our lives, including the end. It is a great comfort to me to know this.”**

adampowers.wordpress.com

Her story was a great comfort to me.  It wasn’t, however, the first time I’d heard such a thing, nor would it be the last. There are many stories of “seeing the light” or floating above our own bodies. My dear friend’s father was apparently talking to people who weren’t in the room just before he died, and telling her family things that he couldn’t possibly have known, unless his visions were true. Even your own dear Grand Mimi was as spirited as a school girl in the month before her death, talking animatedly with old friends she could see, but others couldn’t. Who am I to say they weren’t there? Frankly, I like to believe they were. I wondered aloud once what age we are in heaven. Like, if we die very old, I’m sure we don’t remain old in heaven…I’ve decided to believe that we are whatever age we want to be – the best we were – and appear to our loved ones as the best they remember. So if I die young and Sean old, we’ll be the same age in heaven. My mom won’t appear to me as a young girl even if she might appear to herself as such. At this point, whether heaven is a real place or not, is almost immaterial. I believe it’s there. I believe in God, and light, and hope, and something bigger than myself. I don’t believe when we’re gone it’s all over. And, I believe that if I have to die early, I’ll still be able to hear and watch over you. That my love will find you no matter what.

I’ve actually have had a taste of “the bigger picture” myself. When I was 16 I was in a terrible car accident with Granny and my first dog, Bailey. I was driving my mom’s VW convertible on the 401 extension to the cottage. Bailey came into the front seat and, as I pushed her back with my right elbow, I pulled the steering wheel ever so slightly to the left. Granny, who’s a panicky passenger on a good day, freaked out. She yelled “You’re in the shoulder of the road! You’re in the shoulder of the road!” Her alarm made me react too aggressively and, as I yanked the wheel to correct, I overcompensated and the car took a hard right in the middle of the highway. The fact that I didn’t hit another car still astounds me. The car, which was now going 60m/h at a right angle to the rest of the traffic, drove off the road and took a nosedive into a small ditch. But, since we had so much momentum, the car started to roll. We ended up rolling 6 times. 3 times front to back, and 3 times side to side. During one of the rolls, my seatbelt released. When Granny came to, I was about 40 feet from the wreckage lying in the grass. But here’s the thing: there were rocks everywhere, but I ended up in grass. My seatbelt released but not on the first roll, so that I flew through the windshield, but at some other point after the roof had ripped off, so I more flopped out of the car rather than anything else. The car could have rolled on me, but it didn’t. I could have landed on my head or neck but I landed on my face. Bailey, who ended up running against traffic on the highway with a with a broken leg, was picked up and taken to a local vet. The first person on the scene was a nurse – with blankets in her trunk and extensive first aid knowledge – and, despite the fact that everyone said I should be dead, I was fine. Immobile and needing nasal surgery, but otherwise fine. People always say to me, you must have been so scared. But that’s the thing, I wasn’t. As the car started it’s first roll, and the windshield filled up with grass, I was incredibly aware of how calm I felt. Not like “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.” But more like “Huh.” There was nothing I could do but I didn’t feel out of control. I felt, serene. Something was with me. Someone. Some spirit or higher power or purpose and, if that had been the end, it was alright.

I try and remember that feeling as much as possible. Someone once wrote me that if God had decided it was my time to go, then I should go in peace and not fight it. That acceptance in itself was a lesson worth teaching you. I understand and appreciate the sentiment, and I hope that when my time does come – and I’m 94 and fully in control of my body and senses – that I will go in peace and calm. But for now, I’m not that person. I’m more a “rage against the dying of the light” type. I want to be here, and I will continue to work with science and pray to God that it happens. As far as I’m concerned faith and science go hand in hand. I’m convinced there is a place for both. There certainly is in my life.

analytical.wikia.com

I also accept there’s a place for all Religions. A religion, in itself, is a man made construct of faith. Religions are subject to the time and place in which they were created. I’m a believer in the mountain theory. That we are all on a road to the same mountaintop, the same goal, the same point. We’re all just starting at different places, depending on our geographic location or religious persuasion. All routes are legitimate. All make sense. All end up at the same summit. How else did we get flood stories from over 100 different cultures and time periods? So if you want to be a Buddhist, be a Buddhist. If Judaism speaks to you then do that. If Christianity or Hinduism or being a Muslim are your comfort then make that choice. Find your truth and don’t judge others for theirs. Even atheists have a place. Their choice is no choice. They choose not to believe. And it is my belief that they’ll end up in the same place as the rest of us. I just think it’d be hard to live in a world where you feel there is nothing else out there. That you’re all alone. But if that works for you, it works for me. As long as you live your life as a good, decent, non-judgmental person, I have no place to criticize.

randomviewpoints.wordpress.com

Currently we don’t have a church home. We used to go to a great Episcopalian church in Beverly Hills. We loved it and fit in right away. It had a great balance between the old school pomp and circumstance -the hymns, the robes – and a new world mindset – openly accepting gay couples and parishioners, and an out spoken female canon. We did a couple classes there (Alpha/Beta) that allowed us to question our own beliefs and what were were taught. In one class I said, “I feel God, I feel the Holy Spirit, I’m just not sure I feel Jesus.” Some churches would be horrified by such a discussion, but not this one. It encouraged us to find our own path within an environment of acceptance and belonging. We ended up leaving that church for 2 reasons. 1, we moved and it’s now quite far away, and 2, after the first year, not a day went by that we weren’t asked for something – time, money, to be a committee member – and we started to feel pressured and guilty. We didn’t have any time or money, and we ended up drifting away because we simply couldn’t meet their requirements. I have to say though I kind of miss it.

Nowadays, though we don’t go anywhere Sundays other than brunch, we still have a faithful house. We pray. Not all the time, but if we’re all together before dinner, and often before bed. We teach the Christian stories that go with the holidays, like Christmas and Easter, and I think if we found the right fit we would probably go back to church. Lately though, I’ve found that all the places we look at are just too much. Too many rules. Too much criticism. Too much us versus them. And that’s my problem with organized Religion. There’s all together too much judgement. I believe in living by values and parables like, ‘do unto others’, but what I have a problem with, is any kind of religion or group that dictates how someone should behave. Not how they should live – like being good or kind or thoughtful or giving – but how they should BEHAVE. Behavior like how you dress, or wear your hair or whom you should marry (or if you can marry at all). I struggle with being told what you can and can not eat, or who you should or should not hate. I understand that many of these things are centuries old rules and traditions, but I feel uncomfortable with the concept that this kind of doctrine is God’s will. I believe that when you start dictating what people should DO, it is more about control than faith. More about man than God. More secular than spiritual. Because at some point, some person, some human, wrote down those rules. And though they were written as God’s will, they were written by man, and man, by nature, is corruptible. Man seeks power and control. Man is fallible. There are too many directives in too many books that keep one group separate from the rest. Too many mandates that degrade one sex over another. Too many conflicting stories within individual texts themselves. The Christian Bible calls for an “eye for an eye” but also says, “thou shall not kill”. They can’t both be right. I don’t believe my beliefs negate your beliefs. I don’t believe God values one kind of person over another. I don’t believe that any God would sanction the killing of others in his name. And I certainly don’t believe that God meant for a woman who’s been raped to be stoned to death for infidelity.

I’m also reticent of religions that make you pay to move up or forward within them. If that’s not a man made construct I don’t know what is.

free-extras.com

I guess my advice to you would be to use your best judgement and to see the great religious works for what they are, man’s version of the story. There has yet to be a scripture that claims to be a direct rendition of the word of God.  It’s not fact. It’s interpretation. It doesn’t mean don’t respect it, it just means understand it’s origins. We have family members that see the Bible as the only truth and it’s a bit of a strain. Any court of law will tell you that many different people will come up with infinite versions of the “truth”. The Bible, as with all the other great tomes of religion, has hundreds of different authors writing over many different centuries, translated into multiple different languages. Don’t get me wrong, I think you should be familiar with the Bible, it’s a great book filled with amazing stories. It will help you with art and history and multiple points of reference.

Like if someone alluded to a situation being a ‘David & Goliath’ thing, you wouldn’t know what they were talking about if you didn’t know the story. Or if someone referred to wielding their celebrity like Samson’s hair, you could make the connection.

admavricks.com

The Bible is a great thing to know. I’m just saying don’t be too rigid – whatever faith you choose. Don’t let men’s words from centuries past be the light that guides your way. Accept the light faith brings but navigate by your own stars. Find what’s right for you and always treat others with respect. You probably won’t go to church the way I did, but I do hope that you get some religious education both in school and at home, to fill in what you’re missing on Sunday mornings. I’d like you to you have something that helps you feel that you’re not alone in the universe. I also hope you, as I do, will find solace in prayer. Find the time to thank whatever power you believe in for the gifts you’ve been given. I always cry in church at Christmas because I feel overwhelmed. I’m filled with the spirit of the holiday, and family, and giving, and yes, God. I believe I’m loved. I believe I’m protected. I believe we’re not alone.

Whether I believe a virgin mother actually laid her baby in a manger is just semantics.

God Bless you baby,

xo mom

panhala.net

* I picture God as a man because that’s how it’s ingrained in my head, not because it’s right. It’s just how I see him.

**Pulmonary Hypertension: A Patient’s Survival Guide 3rd Edition “If Treatment Fails: Congestive Heart Failure” p. 161

Feb 27

18 Comments

Boundaries

Dear Loch,

All kids, whether they know it or not, need boundaries. Just as society needs rules and laws, you need to know what’s appropriate behavior and what’s not. Boundaries give us a sense of order that allow us the security to know where we stand. It’s also helpful to know what the consequences will be if we step out of line. Though you’ll discover these boundaries by osmosis living with us, I wanted you to know upfront what’s not ok and what it is you’ll get in s*&# for. I have yet to decide on the consequences. I have no real point of reference, as I didn’t really need them growing up. I was, as my friend Jeanette once told Granny and Granddad, “A parent’s wet dream”. That’s not to say I was a church mouse. I had a great time, but I was always honest about what I was doing and who I was doing it with. I followed the rules, did well in school, and didn’t do anything to disrespect the faith or trust my parents had in me.  Your father on the other hand was a delinquent-in-training until high school, so, you could go either way. Though we both agree that taking after me in this department is better for everybody…

From where I stand now, these are your perimeters. You will get in trouble for the following:

Mouthing off and generally being a brat. I expect you to be respectful and polite. You will speak to your father and me with courtesy no matter how much we’re bugging you. I’m not saying you can’t lash out, or ever say things you don’t mean. That’s bound to happen. I’m just saying, that kind of behavior is not acceptable and when, and if, it happens, I want you to know it’s not ok, and you will be expected to apologize. This rule applies to any authority figure (though I would advise you to avoid mouthing off to your peers too). I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the world opens for people with manners. Have them, use them, and you’ll not only be liked and respected, you won’t have to hear me lecturing to you on your behavior. You and I have an ongoing conversation right now that goes something like this:

Me: What kind of boy do you want to be?

You: A nice boy.

Me: Not a…

You: Whiney boy.

Me: Or a…

You: Bratty boy.

Bratty is not ok. Bratty, expectant behavior is unacceptable. We, your family, plan to sacrifice a lot to give you all the opportunities we can. Acting like a spoiled, sullen, overindulged child will not be tolerated. Neither will being disrespectful of people or things.

shoutingatco.ws

Never destroy anything purposely or for kicks. People work hard for the things they have, and those things have value. Right now if you break something you have a tendency to say “We’ll just get a new one ok, Mommy?” and I have to explain that’s not always the case. You have to respect your things – and most definitely someone else’s – and it’s not as simple as just buying more. Help clean if you made a mess. Listen to the rules as they’re given. Take care of your stuff. Take care of other’s stuff. If a friend says don’t touch something, don’t touch it. If you break it, fix, or when you’re older, offer to pay for, it. Learn that there are consequences to your actions and work within those perimeters.

Bullying. Never be cruel or mean to anyone, ever. Remember the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. I was bullied as a child and it was awful. I remember those days, and feelings clearly, even now. Don’t be part of someone’s bad memories.

heidikwells.blogspot.com

Lying. It’s not necessary and not worth it. I love you. Dad loves you. Anything you say, think, or feel is ok. Don’t lie. Don’t feel you have to lie. The truth is always the better choice. Plus, you don’t get confused and caught up in your story. Whatever’s happened we’ll work through it. Just don’t lie about it. The truth always comes out in the end. Don’t mess with the trust we have in you. It’s not worth it. The only time lying is ok is when you do it by omission in order to spare someone’s feelings. This is what is commonly referred to as a “white lie”. “Do you like my dress?” She’s already wearing it and has no chance to change? You say “You look great” . Someone asks, “Did you like the show?” and it was 3 1/2 hours of pertenscious BS, you say, “Yeah, I can’t believe how cohesive the cast was…” or, “The sets were incredible.” or what they really want to hear, “You were amazing in it!” Pick something that is actually true and say that. Just never say something you don’t believe or won’t do. Be someone who’s word means something.

Stealing is unacceptable, and I hope you know that without my saying it. Granddad tells a story of the one and only time he stole. He took a comic book from the General Store, got home and felt so bad about stealing it, he couldn’t read it. He told his parents and had to go back to the store, return the comic and apologize to the shop owner. I can only imagine that feeling. I’m the kind of person that tells waiters they left things off my bill, or if I’ve been given the incorrect change in my favor. Your Dad will tell you a story of how he once got caught shoplifting a Playboy. He panicked and ran, but because he lived on a US Military base in Japan, everybody knew everybody and later that day the MP’s came to his house and took him in. He’ll tell you he was overwhelmed by embarrassment because of what he’d done – and what he’d stolen – but mostly he was scared. Scared of what they’d do, or what the repercussions would be. When all was said and done Grandpa took him home and he went straight to bed. The next morning he felt like he couldn’t leave his room. He was too ashamed. Finally Grandpa came upstairs and instead of grounding him or yelling, he simply said, “If you ever need anything, come to me first. We’ll see what we can do.” He proceeded to tell Dad he loved him and then sent him outside to be with his friends. Dad had learned his lesson, and Grandpa, in his infinite wisdom, didn’t feel the need to rub it in. Frankly, I’m not sure I’d be quite as forgiving, but the point is, you don’t take things that aren’t yours. Good people don’t do that. And you are a good person.

Cheating is tough. More and more kids do it every day. I never would have dreamed of cheating, but I was a goody goody and it was a different time. The thing about cheating, as cliche as it sounds, is you’re truly only cheating yourself. It’s the easy ride. If you don’t learn it, then you get nothing out of it. If you don’t do the work, you don’t deserve the grade, and you’ll only have to cheat again to keep up with what you don’t know. Cheating only leads to more cheating. This goes for sports, games and work too. There is nothing worse than being in a situation where you’re in over your head. If you got there by less than honest means, you don’t deserve to be there, and you know it. No matter how many accolades you get you’ll never feel worthy. It’ll breed insecurity and make you act even less authentic. You’ll eventually lose yourself completely to your own dishonesty. Just buckle down, make the effort and do the work. It takes more time and energy but trust me, it’s worth it.

Doing Drugs. Drugs are illegal. If you get caught with drugs it can screw up your life. If you do the wrong drug it can take your life. Take my advice from The Importance of Safety and really limit, if not avoid, drugs altogether. They are so prevalent for young people now. When I was in high school I knew a couple people who smoked pot, but that was it. I didn’t even try it till University and it made me either neurotic or starving. Both pretty harmless reactions but, you can definitely do too much. One summer I smoked pot pretty regularly as a source of recreation with a boyfriend. We had some very laid back, goofy fun, but by August I was both fatter and dumber. I literally found myself struggling to find the right word for things a LOT. I might not have been stupider, but I was definitely slower, and it was a bad feeling. I stopped right away and didn’t go back. Look, between you and me I think marijuana should be legal, both medicinally and recreationally. I think it is no worse for you than drinking, and if it was monitored and controlled by the government the way alcohol is, I think we’d have way less bogus arrests, court appearances and clogging of jails. Public funds could be allocated to something more serious and we could put more truly “bad guys” behind bars. But that’s just me. The other drugs out there I can’t really speak to, aside from saying don’t do them. Seriously. Don’t. Do. Them. Drugs made in a lab can kill you in a hot second, and nothing is ever as good as the initial high. You can chase that feeling for the rest of your life. Don’t waste your time. Find another vice.

flickr.com Jon W. Howson

I’m not going to get on you for drinking. I’m not saying do it, I’m just saying be responsible with your choices and respectful of your body and situation. But, if that’s what your friends are doing – providing you do it in moderation and a safe environment – you won’t be in trouble for it. Drinking can be fun, but it can also make you do really stupid things, and it can get you really sick. You don’t need booze to have fun. Truly. I hope you’ll learn to respect alcohol in our house so that it won’t be such a big deal when you do start drinking. Being Canadian, with a drinking age of 19 in Ontario and 18 in Quebec, drinking starts a lot earlier than in the US. I personally believe the US drinking age is too high. 21 seems crazy in today’s world. If you can go to war and vote for your leaders by 18, I think you should be able to have a glass of wine.  Most of my pals started drinking in Grade 7. I didn’t start until Grade 9 . In retrospect, both seem a bit young, but it was normal to us. That being said, it took me a while to understand how to properly handle it. Many of my peers weren’t as lucky, and found themselves with serious alcoholic tendencies by the time they were in University – Drinking only to get wasted. Drinking until they blacked out. Not knowing how to function socially without drinking. Turning into a different person when they drank – By my mid-20’s I had at least 3 friends in AA. Drinking can be a good time, but if you abuse it you can find yourself down a rabbit hole you can’t control, and your best possible solution is to stop drinking forever. I admire my friends that said, “no more” to their destructive behavior, but I can’t help but feel it’s kinda sad they can no longer enjoy a glass of bubbly on New Year’s Eve, or a cocktail in a bar. Seek to control your drinking lest it control you. I actually think the Europeans have it down. You must be 18 to buy spirits over 16.5% but adults can purchase for minors. Beer at 4.5-8% is fine before you’re 18. Alcohol is simply part of the culture, and I’m of the opinion that learning to drink earlier – in the safety of your home – allows you to better control and maintain yourself when you do turn 18, and can drink anything at any time. I believe when you make things taboo, and force people to do things in secret, it makes it worse. I think that’s why American kids tend to handle drinking so poorly. No one taught them differently, and when they turn 21 they just go crazy. I’m hoping to avoid that. We’ll just pretend our house is France. You don’t often see Parisian kids puking their guts out on the street. I told my parents when my friends started drinking, and then when I did. They chose not to punish me, but  to educate me on how to handle drinking with some sense of decorum. They also gave me taxi chits to get me home from parties and keep me safe. So, aside from a handful nights where I truly over indulged, and there were some blotto nights, for the most part I’ve had a healthy respect for alcohol my whole life. I also have seen what a drinking problem can do to a family and I have no interest in going there.

As a side note on drinking, you will not get out of things you’re expected to do if you are hung over. That is not a legitimate excuse. So if you have something to do the next day, keep that in mind the night before. I’m cool. I’m not that cool.

Finally, no drinking and driving ever. Ever. There is no flexibility on this. Not only can you be arrested and have it on your permanent record, it can KILL YOU, or someone else. Life is truly precious. You don’t F around with life.

Smoking is a big one for me. I know kids smoke and 5 years ago I would have advised you not to get into the habit because it’s expensive and gross and bad for your teeth and lungs. But now, having been diagnosed with a lung disease, and living with compromised lungs, I can’t be more adamant about this. Don’t smoke. Period. You’ve been born with perfect, healthy lungs and to f*@# them up deliberately is to spit on everything I’m dealing with. Having a lung disease is horrendous. Not being able to breathe properly, needing oxygen, not being able to walk up stairs or carry your own child, having to shower with the bathroom door open because the steam makes it too hard to take a deep breath, these are all things you don’t want. I didn’t get PH from smoking. My minimal social smoking – which I never really mastered or liked – was not the cause of my disease. But if I had been a smoker, my diagnosis and response to the disease would be way less rosy. Keep your lungs healthy and I’ll continue to pray that my disease isn’t genetic. Deal?

Being Lazy. I was at Subway the other day getting a sandwich and there was a teenage boy there with his Mom, Granny and sister. They waited in line while he sat like a blob at a table. I’d love to say he was saving seats for his family, but I can’t. There were plenty of tables. He sat there and deep sighed, put his head on the table, and generally acted like everything was just the biggest burden. Answering his family’s questions on type of cheese or bread he wanted was like a horror show for him. Groan, “Provolone!” Sigh. I was one step away from telling him to get his a#@ up and stop being such a tool. I’ve got no time for lazy dude. I’m not talking about sleeping in on the weekends, or bumming around at the cottage in the summer. I’m talking about just not bothering. Not making an effort. One of my biggest pet peeves with you right now is you say “I can’t” a lot. I don’t mind helping you, but most of the time when you say “I can’t”, you really mean, “I don’t want to” or “I won’t”. That’s annoying when your 4 but if you’re 14 or 24, it’s pathetic. You get out what you put in. Right now, you’re always so proud – and a little surprised I think – when you complete something without me. You fight it like hell – say putting away your toys, or getting dressed on your own – but when you finish, you look at me like hey….wow. I think that feeling follows you right through life. There’s pride in a job well done. Pleasure in a sense of completion. Get to the gym. Look for the better job. Do a better job. Work at your relationship or get a new girlfriend. A little more effort adds up to a lot more life. I’ll be all over you if you’re lazy. It’s so lame.

You know what else is lame? Being a Bad Sport. Being a bad loser or a bad winner. The guy who decides not to dress up for the costume party, or refuses to play the game everyone is playing. Play the game. Wear the costume. Put on the tie. Shake the winner’s hand. Buck up. Put a smile on your face and have a good time. Don’t be the putz that’s too cool or the a-hole who rubs his greatness in everyone’s face.

Not Asking. We’ll want you to always ask our permission. We’ll do this not to control your life, but so we can help you navigate it. You want to have a party? Ask. Want to stay out late? Ask. Want to go to someone’s house after school? Just ask. We want to know where you are. We want to know you’re safe. We want you to make smart decisions that won’t mess around with the bigger picture that maybe only we can see right now. We aren’t trying to jack up your fun. Don’t treat us like we are. Just ask.

Be cool. Don’t be a punk. Use your manners and your head when making decisions. Remember, you are building the person you want to be. Start with a good foundation. I want people to say, that Lochlan is a nice kid, let’s have him over again, or honor him with that award, or give him that promotion. A*^holes might sometimes get those things too, but trust me, people wished they didn’t.

I love you baby. Choose wisely.

xo me

Feb 13

11 Comments

Love and Dating

Dear Loch,

So, this past weekend we hosted your wedding. It wasn’t our intention, but you and your friend Shiloh were so into the idea of getting married that her mother finally called and said, “I think we’re going to have to do this thing.” Once confirming that the bride and groom both understood it was, in fact, a (said in a whisper) “pretend” wedding, the parents got to planning. The thing about me and your Dad (and, as it turns out, the bride’s parents) is that we can’t do something at 70%. A wedding to you guys basically consisted of fancy clothes, an aisle, vows and cake – with cake being the big draw. The adults added flowers, snacks, a decorated venue, ring pop favors and, thanks to Shiloh’s mom’s job, a limo – so guests under 5 could drive around the block for 20 minutes. Ridiculous? Maybe. Super fun playdate with a theme? Definitely. When I asked the flower guy at the grocery store if I could have any roses they were going to throw away, he asked me what they were for. I said I wanted to use the petals to decorate a 4-year-old wedding. He said, “For someone who’s been married 4 years?” and I said, “No, for a wedding of 4-year-olds.” He looked at me like I was cracked. I explained that everyone involved knew it was just for fun. But this morning when you told me that, now that you’re married, you and Shiloh would be “getting an apartment”, I wasn’t so sure. I said, “You’re not getting an apartment. You’re staying here with me. You know you’re not really married right?” You looked at me like, duh… and said, “I knooooow Mommy. But when I really marry Shiloh one day, we’ll get an apartment.” I said, “I hope you get one before that.” 

The thing is, if you grow up and marry Shiloh, that would be fantastic. She’s a darling girl and we love her family. Plus, telling people you got married for the first time at 4, would be pretty hilarious. But, you don’t know who the heck you’re going to marry, and I’d hate you to rush headlong to the finish line of relationships before exploring the whole exciting gamut of love and dating. As I’ve said before, I love being married and I’d love it for you, but there are so many wonderful things to happen between now and then. Don’t miss out by trying to achieve the end result.

Your Dad was a long-term-relationship guy, and judging by your adoration of the female sex – your penchant for complimenting women, and the fact that you notice things like when I’ve had my hair or nails done – you might be too. I, on the other hand, dated a lot, and had only a handful of real relationships before I met your Dad. That was good too. I’d hazard to say I probably had more fun than your Dad, but I also had more heartbreak, so it’s a toss up to which is better. I’d like to see you have a lot of experiences. To date women that aren’t right for you, and women you think are, but turn out not to be. I’d rather you to go all in, and feel the crushing sting of a failed relationship, than hang back and choose the safe or easy path. Love in itself is a risk but it’s a risk worth taking over and over again.

As you start your dating adventures I have a couple words of advice. Keep in mind I was a pretty avid dater in my time and I ended up with a great spouse, so I kind of know what I’m talking about. Plus, I’m a woman, and that gives me some insight you wouldn’t otherwise be privy to.

I'm not saying you have to date any of these scarf models from nunatinnit.net. I'm just saying you don't have to stick to only one type of girl.

Try not to have a “type”. I can’t speak to who you should be attracted, that’s just chemistry, but try to avoid limiting yourself to a certain hair color or look. Avoid saying things like, “I don’t date (fill in the blank) type of girls.” You never know where you’ll make a connection, and if you close those doors without finding out what’s behind them, you might be missing out on a great love affair – or at least a great story.

When asking a girl out, be direct. Decide what you want to do- go to a dance, a movie, dinner – and man up and ask.  You can be casual, “We should go out sometime” or “I’d like to take you out this weekend. You interested?” “Are you going the dance?”  Yes? “Great. You want to go with me?”  I’m not sure? “Well you should. Let me take you.” Or something like, “I want to check out this new restaurant/band/movie, you wanna go?”  I can’t promise everyone will say yes. Keep in mind what I said about regrets, the ones that say no often do it for reasons that have nothing to do with you whatsoever, but at the very least she’ll be flattered and impressed by your confidence. Just be sure you’re clear with your intentions. You go further being bold. You don’t want people to say, I think he was asking me out…

Oh, and a smile never hurts.

My first date was with a boy named Andrew Westlake. I was 9 or 10 and he asked me to the movies.  His mother drove us to the theatre and sat behind us with his little brother. I remember his brother teasing us and Andrew freaking out. I remember chocolate covered raisins. I remember his mom trying to give us some privacy by not talking to us. But mostly I remember feeling special.

Make your dates feel special. Pay attention to what they say and act like a gentleman. It’s always nice to start with a sincere compliment. Not random, placating niceties, as they come off as shallow and calculated, but something you believe to be true and say out loud. “You look really pretty”. Or, “Those jeans look awesome”. You want to be candid and genuine. Trust me, girls know the difference. Plus, I guarantee she put some serious energy into how she looks. Acknowledge the result. It’ll make her more confident, which makes her more comfortable, which ultimately makes the date more successful.

A successful date is one where the conversation is easy, the company is good, and the time just flys by. If the physical attraction is there too, then you’re golden. Sometimes you’ll find yourself on a date with someone you found physically attractive, but once you’re out with them, it’s kinda tough. I dated an investment banker in New York once who was handsome, smart, romantic, and had a ridiculously enormous 2 floor apartment that I hosted a number of parties at (trust me, that was a big deal). Sadly, we just didn’t click.

wallpaperswide.com "Snowy Park at Night"

One winter night, we were walking through a beautiful, empty, East Village park. The trees had ice on every branch so they sparkled in the lamp light, the ground was lightly dusted with snow, and there was a slight mist, so everything just seemed magical. I commented on the beauty and asked if he had to choose a way to describe it, what way would he choose? When he looked at me with consternation, I elaborated. Take a photo? Write a poem? Draw a picture? His face was blank, and he said something like, “Why would I want to do that?”  I let it go, but in that moment, I knew we were over. Zero. Imagination.

That’s the thing, someone can be good on paper, and not right for you in real life. When I first moved to LA, I met a guy on Halloween. I was, if you can stand it, at the Playboy Party – sadly, not at the Mansion. I met a guy dressed in a full superhero costume. Afro wig. Tights. Mask. The whole deal. He was pretty funny so I gave him my number. We talked a couple of times on the phone and then met for a date. This sounds ridiculous, but when I saw him again, out of costume, I was disappointed.

Rick Eades, eadescomics.blogspot.com

I was disappointed not because he was unattractive, but because he was too attractive. Too chiseled. To generically handsome. I guess I’d gotten it into my head that he was this quirky dude, and this guy was not what I expected. But I thought to myself, Really Leigh? He’s too handsome?! Get a grip! At dinner I found out he was not only an ex-fighter pilot for the air force, but a Harvard Grad who lived at the beach and worked for a Hedge Fund. He had a motorcycle and took weekend trips to Palm Springs and Vegas. On paper he was perfect. In real life, I wasn’t sure if I was attracted to him. For our second date he invited me to a BBQ at a friend’s house. I drove to his place in Manhatten Beach thinking, Ok, this might be something… When I got there his house at the beach turned out to be a glorified frat he shared with multiple buddies. It was the kind of place you’d be afraid to walk barefoot or use the bathroom, not the place of a 30-something man. I was happy to leave it to go grocery shopping, until we got to the store and he was all, “Babe this” and “Hon, that”. “Grab the mustard, kay babe?” When did we become a long term couple? We’d skipped like 15 steps. By the time we got to his friend’s, he was acting like he couldn’t wait for our wedding and I was weirded out. When he got hammered and hit me with a “You can drive, right babe?”, I was done. On paper can be deceiving. I thought I could ignore the lack of chemistry by focusing on his credentials and, subsequently, looking at me on paper, he thought he could just plop me into the girlfriend box. It doesn’t work that way. When he leaned in to kiss me that night, I put my hand in front of my face and high fived him. I think I actually said, “High Five!” It was pretty awkward. I never saw him again.

As a general rule, I think men should pay on a date. I know we’re liberated and all that, but I’d advise you to still pick up the tab. It’s old school, but classy, and chicks dig it. Don’t go broke dating a girl, or try to impress her with expensive places or gifts. Sometimes too fancy/expensive is a turn off in itself. It comes off as needy. Thoughtful gifts almost always trump pricey ones, and if you don’t have the cash don’t pretend you do. Just don’t be stingy with your attention or your  wallet. Cheap is unattractive.

Consider your date’s interests. See what she likes before making plans. Never show up with the thoughtless, “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”  Take charge. Just be sure not to push or try too hard. I dated a guy that always had to plan a big thing. A grand gesture. Going to see Rent and then going to the top of the Empire State Building. Tour of the Hudson on a riverboat and then dinner at some swanky place. He was more into showing off than getting to know me. I told him I wasn’t ready to be committed. I was. I just wasn’t ready to be committed to him.

Don’t get wasted on a date. At least not alone. If you’re out having a ball and you’re both buzzed, fine. Just don’t get sloppy (try and avoid this whether you’re on a date or not). Don’t get her wasted to make things easier. It’s obvious and weak. Earn the action you want, don’t try and trick her into it.

Jon Pratt Photo

I went to the movies with a guy in Montreal once who hadn’t bothered to check the times, so we were an hour and a half early. We went to a pub and he proceeded to order 6 shots of tequila. I didn’t want tequila but he didn’t care. I did one shot, to placate him and stop the barrage of “Don’t be a pussy“, and he did the other 5. He proceeded to get in a fight with a guy he claimed owed him money, made me write down the guy’s contact information, and ordered and drank 3 more beers. During the film he kept trying to grope me, and when the movie was over he ended up screaming at me on the street because I’d had the audacity to hold the door for him. His arm was in a sling from a rugby injury and, in his mind, I was trying to emasculate him by treating him like an invalid. I told him he wasn’t an invalid, he was an idiot. I never saw him again either.

Be on time. This is a good rule for life. Promptness is both appreciated and respected. I wasn’t so great with being on time growing up, so I’m putting more emphasis on it now. If you’re going to be late, let the other person know. There is no excuse for not doing it in the cell phone age. And if you are late, for goodness sakes, apologize. I once went on a date with a guy I’d met shooting a deep sea fishing television pilot. (Don’t ask) I was one of the only people that didn’t barf on the very rough sea. For this reason, and this reason alone, I came off as more attractive than my model costar. All 5’10” of her Swedish body was literally green. My future date was a friend of the producer financing the shoot. We made plans to meet for dinner at a little Italian place in the West Village. I ended up sitting at a table in the window for 45 minutes drinking alone. No call. No text. Nothing. I was about to leave when he breezed though the door without the least bit of contrition. Everything in my body said, Get up. Go. Leave him with the bill. I wanted to say something cool like, “Ok, I’m glad you’re alive. I had too Pinot’s. Be sure to pay the man.” But did I do that? No. I let him talk me into staying for dinner where he proceeded to talk about himself for the whole evening. I knew I was better off not to return his calls after that.

If you’re on a date that isn’t working out, see it to the end, and then exit as politely as you can. Don’t extend it. Don’t go for drinks.  Don’t say you’ll call. Be kind and hit the road. If it’s just unbearably terrible – she’s a fall down drunk, or a racist, or crazy – then call a spade a spade and excuse yourself. “This isn’t really working out. I think we should call it a night.”

If you’re ending more than a date, do it with grace and class. Don’t use social media. Don’t have a friend do it. My first boyfriend – and I use the term loosely as I’m not sure if we were ever alone in the same room – had his best friend tell me he wanted to end it. Even as a 12-year-old I knew that was lame. At minimum, make the call yourself. In person’s better, but not without mess. My boyfriend from first year theatre school blindsided me with a a breakup in Central Park and I lost it. I acted like a crazy woman. I stumbled out of the park in a haze of tears. I’m sure the people on the subway thought someone had died. In my defense, I was in a pretty dramatic phase in my life and that breakup was a culmination of many bad breakups, so my reaction was a bit extreme. I was also devastated because he gave me no reason. It was just over.

Always try and give a reason. One she can learn from like “This is just too intense”. You’re basically saying, “You’re too intense” but in a way she can process and maybe learn from. Or give her one she can move on from like, “I don’t want to be in something serious right now” or “I have to concentrate on my work”. She’ll be sad but she can feel it wasn’t her, and she can’t fix it or change your mind because it’s not up for negotiation. Just be compassionate. Being dumped hurts like hell. Do it as nicely as possible, just make sure you do it. I dated a guy for 2 months that literally left my apartment one morning and just stopped talking to me. Nothing had happened. It was just as if we’d never met. At least, by that time in my life, I had the foresight to tell him off when I ran into him on the street months later. I was calm and concise. I told him he handled what had happened with us ‘badly’. I said next time he shouldn’t be such a coward, and just have the balls to tell the girl it’s over instead of just running away. His mouth was hanging open as I walked away. It was a great moment.

If you’re the one getting dumped – and I’m sorry you are – it’s the same thing. Have dignity, class and balls. Never argue or debate their decision. It’s made. Challenging it only makes you look desperate and doesn’t improve your chances of getting back together, if that’s what you want. My first boyfriend in NY dumped me out of the blue after we’d seen each other, at his insistence, every day for 3 months straight. He’d invited me away for the weekend to meet his mom, but I had to work. When he got back he told me he “needed space”. I acted cool, like it was totally normal that he’d asked to go away to meet his mother and now wasn’t sure if we should be together. When we had lunch about a week later, I brought him a postcard of the Grand Canyon. I thought I was being light and funny. That’s space isn’t it? But it was already over. I’m glad I acted cool, but I regret not asking some questions. What had changed? Why was he doing this? It wouldn’t have altered the outcome but I could have saved me months of wondering.

If you’re in a relationship enjoy it. Who cares if your friends ride you for being AWOL for a while. They’ll get you back eventually. Relationships, especially new relationships, are so exciting. Being wrapped up in love is the best. Just remember there’s a whole world out there, and once you surface from the initial haze, broaden your horizons.

If you get to a point in the relationship that you feel like straying, have the courtesy to break up with her first. I only cheated on one boyfriend. I knew it wasn’t going to work out long term, and when I met this other guy, I thought I’d see where it went before I made any changes. Essentially, I hedged my bets. My boyfriend was away most weekends so I started casually dating the other to see if it was something worth breaking up for. The affair imploded – as things tend to do when you’re not being honest – and I stayed with my boyfriend for another 3 months, but it was never the same. I had one foot out the door and should have just ended it when my affections had strayed. It doesn’t work out much better when you’re the “cheatee”. I’ve been the ‘other woman’ a couple of times and it’s sexy for a moment, and then it’s just depressing. One guy’s girlfriend lived across the country and we’d never met. As far as I was concerned she didn’t exist. But it was almost as if he was just filling his time with me till he could be with her. It made me feel used and shi**y. The other time I thought I’d found my soul mate our connection was so strong. I truly believed he’d leave her for me. He did leave her, but for one of the other girls he was fooling around with. I was heartbroken…and stupid. Affairs only lead to pain. In the world of dating if you find yourself about to cheat, hold off. It’s much more fun if you’re both available. Maybe not as sexy, secrets can be hot, but definitely more worthwhile.

One last note on cheating: I’m of the belief that if you cheat, it’s on you. You’re the one who screwed up, so you should be the one to suffer. People confess to alleviate their own guilt, but it only serves to hurt the person who did nothing wrong and doesn’t deserve the pain. Don’t rub your dalliance in their face. If you cheat or want to cheat, accept the obvious – the relationship is probably over – and be mature enough to end it. In a long term relationship like a marriage, my opinions on this issue are slightly less cut and dry. But sufficed to say, I’m anti-cheating.

When dating be confident. No girl wants a guy she can push around. Flexible, but not whipped. Girls like puppy dogs but they don’t respect them. Be honest with what you like – food, movies, people, interests – but also about how you feel – regarding issues, behavior, and feelings.  Be yourself. Have, and be proud of, your opinions and if she doesn’t get you, f*$# her. Her loss.

onlinedatingranking.net

Dating and love are exciting. Sometimes painful, but for the most part pretty awesome. Every new person teaches you something about what you want, and what you don’t want. What you need, and what you like. What works for you, and what doesn’t. When I finally found your Dad, it was easy for me to get married. I’d done single, and I’d done it well. I didn’t need to wonder what else was out there or if I was doing the right thing. I knew. I knew because I’d done the work. I knew the landscape and I could say with all certainty this was a good plan. I believe it can work if you marry young, or marry your high school/college sweetheart, I just think it’s those couples who are more likely to wonder what they missed, or be the ones pining for the things they never got to do. I got to do them. It was fun. It was painful. It was wild, and then it was over. On the first date with your Dad I turned the page and understood that one chapter was closed, and another one was beginning. And I was ready.

Enjoy the ride until you’re ready.

I love you.

xo your mama

The exact moment your Dad proposed. Taken from a video camera your Dad hid in the trees..

Jan 30

18 Comments

The Importance of Safety

Dear Loch,

Being a parent is a major lesson in staying calm. One I often fail. Question after question after question…I’m pretty good at. Whining, whining, whining…I’ve been known to crack.  But for me, I struggle the most to keep calm about your safety. Once you have a child you’re constantly preoccupied with their well being. Their health. Their milestones. Their welfare. Sure we all want you to be gorgeous geniuses in happy relationships with great jobs and fulfilling lives, but mostly we want you to be safe. To be healthy. To be secure. And, unfortunately, the world you live in is filled with things working against our goal.

From the moment we bring you home from the hospital we are doing things to protect you. We baby proof our houses within an inch of their lives. For the one child that drowned in the toilet, we have a million parents with toilet guards that make it nearly impossible to use their own facilities. We put you in 5 point harness carseats and dress you like American Gladiators to ride your bike. We lather you in sunscreen and scour the internet with every apparent illness or behavior (Or at least I do. Getting sick turned me into a raging hypochondriac). It’s a tough gig, and for every hurdle you clear – he’s over 5, we’ve passed the autism window – there’s another one ready to rear it’s ugly head – sexual predators, driving, drugs… There’s always something that can happen to you, and as parents, it’s our job to try and shield you from as much as possible. But we can’t do it without your cooperation. Really, we’re like Jerry McGuire – a character in a popular 90’s movie by the same name I suggest you see – We need you to “help us, help you.”

Listen to what we say. We aren’t trying to be pains in your a^*. We are literally trying to get you to adulthood with all your limbs and a fully functioning brain. If we suggest you do something or avoid something else, know that we say it in hopes of saving you some pain or anxiety. The fact is, we’ve lived longer and seen more. In this case, we truly know better. Defer to us.

One of the first things I taught you in terms of safety was to put your hand out first so a dog can smell you. Even as a really tiny guy you would stick out your chubby, little mitt for a dog to sniff. At the time you were still too nervous to pet them, but you liked the connection. As you get older though, this is a good lesson not just for animals but life in general. Be innately cautious when dealing with things that can potentially hurt you. Go in slowly and let the situation unfold organically. Assess the risk and proceed as you deem appropriate. Check if there’s rocks under the water. Sometimes, even when you do the right thing, you still get bitten. But it’ll happen a lot less. It’s also a good rule of thumb to ask the owner if you can pat the dog, or use the equipment, or swim in the pool… I learned that lesson the hard way when a ridiculous doggie on a pillow attached itself to my lip when I was 8. As far as I’m concerned if you brought your dog to a workplace or social situation it should be friendly. Don’t bring your bit*^y, bitting, yip of a dog to a place to launch itself at children’s faces. That dog stays home. But I should have asked.

One thing you also learned early was the danger of taking pills that aren’t for you. I take a litany of medications daily. They’re prevalent in our house. I keep all my PH drugs in a box on my dresser, but it’s not locked, and every night there are 2 cups filled with pills beside my bed for 11pm and 7am. I also take pills at 3pm when we are usually together. I’ve borrowed your sippy cup more times than I can count to wash them down. You can’t help but see them. They are an ever present part of your life. So as early as I could I taught you that you don’t take pills.

Medicineamigo.com

Me: Do you take pills Lochie?

You: No.

Me: What happens if you see a pill on the ground?

You: I don’t touch it and tell a grown up.

Me: What if someone tries to give you a pill?

You: I don’t take pills.

Now, obviously as you get older you will take pills for pain or illness but I think the lesson stands. You don’t take pills that aren’t for you. You don’t steal your Dad’s Adderall, you don’t take your friend’s mom’s valium. You don’t mess around with perscription drugs and you don’t take recreational drugs made in a lab. Those things will eff you up. If you experiment with drugs at all, please just limit it to things that grow out of the ground. Once something has been messed with scientifically you don’t know what you’re getting. Nothing in your life was made to be snorted or injected. Nothing good comes from that s#^@. No high is worth what you could possibly lose.

We have guns in our house. Not real guns but toy guns. For big boys and little ones. Your Dad is an avid competitive paintballer and his gun looks like a semi automatic weapon. You’ve seen him clean it numerous times and he’s shown you all the components and ammunition so you really understand what it is. You have Star Wars laser guns and two very excellent marshmallow guns. I thought, not having grown up with guns at all, that I would be very anti-gun in our house but to be honest, it’s hard to keep a boy away from a weapon. If I don’t give it to you you’re just using your fingers, and with your Dad’s military background, boy scout sharpshooting and weekend hobby, there is no way I can keep guns out of your life. I just want you to be responsible. We’ve discussed that there is a difference between what we have and a real gun, and what to do if someone ever shows you a real one. You are not to touch it. You are to get away as quickly as possible and tell a grown up. I reiterate this lesson a lot. Too many kids have been killed accidentally looking at their father’s gun or showing off for their friends. I want you to know that a real gun is not a toy but a weapon designed to kill. They need to be treated with the utmost respect.

This is the actual target. I took a picture because I was proud. Freaked out, but proud.

As a side note on guns, I’d never even held one till this year. Dad took me to a gun range one night so I could get a feel for one. We chose a revolver and went into the range. First of all, it’s so bloody loud I don’t know how people do it without flinching. It’s also really scary to be in a place where everyone has a loaded gun. Even blanks can kill you. I kept picturing the guy with the glock shooting next to us just turning around and opening fire. It made me unbelievably nervous. I ended up shooting a full round of bullets. My very first shot ever was like a joke. Dead center of the target. Perfection. Every other bullet wizzed by his head or went through his arm. But as my friend said, “It’s really the first shot that counts.” And my first shot was awesome. After, Dad asked me if I wanted to try a semi-automatic hand gun but I declined. I’d had enough. I got the hell out of there and watched through the glass as Dad and his friend decimated a target. He’s a good shot your Dad. After, we had a conversation I never thought I’d have. We debated the merits of having a gun at home. We decided that it’d be pointless in a home invasion as we’d have the gun and the ammo in separate locked boxes and it’d be totally impractical. We really would just want one for when the zombies came and we weren’t quite ready to sign up for that. We got an alarm system instead.

I guess when I really think about it, other than you getting sick, the thing I worry about most isn’t you, but others. How other people and their choices will effect you. Right now, those other people are strangers but when you’re older it’ll more likely be peer pressure and poor decision making. Strangers are a real issue for parents. We have a Berenstain Bears book called Learn About Strangers. In the book Mama Bear shows Sister Bear, using a barrel of apples, that most people are essentially good but it’s the one bad apple that you have to be careful of. She shows sister a bumpy, misshapen apple and Sister says that must be the bad one because it looks funny. When they cut it open though, it’s a perfectly good apple. The bad one turns out to be one that looks totally pristine. The book goes on to illustrate that you can’t judge a person based on how they look and, though we don’t want our children to be afraid of everyone they don’t know, we want them to be cautious so they have a better chance of staying safe. Not talking to strangers is a good rule of thumb – especially if you’re alone – but if you are with a grown up you trust,  look to them for guidance. Granny was recently bemoaning the state of the world that she can’t even say hi to a child in the grocery store anymore. They’re so drilled with stranger danger that they’re immobilized by fear. People talk to you all the time Loch and I encourage you to respond. Have a conversation. Politely answer their questions. Just do it when you’re with a grownup who can assess the situation. Most people just want to talk to little kids because they’re so cute. It seems a shame that children no longer feel safe to do that.

Get into the habit of saying “I have to ask my Mom/Dad/Sitter.” The lady at the Dry Cleaners loves you and wants to give you gifts. I know and trust her, so you can have them. But if you get into the habit of asking, you won’t find yourself in the position where you take things or go with strangers. If your answer to any offer is always, “I have to ask”, you’ll discourage most of those kind of potentially dangerous situations. If there’s no one there to ask, then the answer is always NO. “No. I can’t come see your dog in the car. No. I can’t take that candy. No. I can’t go to your house. No. I don’t want to be your special friend.” Our co-op members recently heard a speaker on predators. According to the speaker, the number one fear of Predators is getting caught, and the children that are taught to ask their caregivers before doing anything, the ones that are well educated on their body parts, that take ownership of themselves, the ones that aren’t afraid to tell their parents anything, are the least appealing victims. We’ve taught you, much to my horror with society, that you are the “boss of your body”. That no one should touch you but you. Sometimes doctors and parents have to help you but you’re in charge and you say what you’re comfortable with. Even as you age you still have to be on the lookout for unsavory characters looking for an adorable boy like you.

Stay by your grown up. If you get lost, go to a mother with kids or the sales person at the cash register. Apparently security guards are no longer safe. Too many predators dress up like them to lull children into a false sense of security. And you wonder why we worry. Mother’s with children and sales people are the most secure choice. Sad but true. Finally, I’ve taught you that if, God forbid, someone picks you up or tries to take you anywhere you scream at the top of your lungs “I don’t know you! I don’t know you!” over and over again. You can also say, “Help! Police!” All too often we see parents picking up screaming, thrashing kids, feel sorry for the parents and ignore the situation. If something is happening you want people to KNOW it’s happening. Don’t let them tune you out.

When I was young they taught us if a man attacked us to scream “Fire!” instead of “Help!” or “Rape!”, because people want to see a fire but they don’t want to get involved in an attack. I also learned that if someone tries to get you into a car or van using a weapon, FIGHT and RUN, because getting stabbed or shot is better than what will happen if you get in that vehicle. Remember, predators want passive victims. They avoid fighters as being too much trouble. That’s the kind of trouble you want to be.

Sadly, you also have to be careful of people you know. More often than not abusers aren’t strangers. Never do anything you’re not comfortable with. Listen to your gut. If the situation seems funny or wrong. Trust that it is. You’d rather be embarrassed than hurt. In David Fincher’s film version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the villian points out that the Hero came willingly into his house knowing something wasn’t right. That his need to be polite overrode his need to be safe and now he would pay for it with his life. I’m all for manners but this is a good lesson. Be rude if you have to be. Your safety is more important than what someone might think of you. Don’t get into a car with a friend that’s been drinking because he’s riding you to do it. Don’t not use protection with the girl you just met because she says “it’s ok.” Don’t help that man you don’t know carry his TV into his house. I don’t care how big or strong you get, everyone is vulnerable and you have to be your own best judge.

Finally, as I always remind you, you live in the cyber world. Predators are on line en mass. They are there to steal your identity. To steal your stuff. To lure you into hazardous situations. You have to be vigilant. We’ll put parental controls on things but, watching you navigate and iPad right now, I think you’ll have access to whatever you want no matter what we do. Knowing that, I say, BE CAREFUL. These people are dangerous. Stay within the designated lines. They are set up to protect you. Your teenage self wants to see porn, we can work that out. Just don’t send your information or picture to some stranger on Facebook or have someone from Craigslist come get Gears of War 8 when we’re not home. And tell us immediately if you receive anything that seems inappropriate or makes you uncomfortable. Don’t keep secrets from us. We are here to look after you. Let us. We aren’t trying to ruin your fun, just protect you from ruining your life.

Your father is nervous that my concern for your safety will scare the adventure out of you. He wants me to ensure you understand that everything above is there as a precaution. But I’m the mom, and it’s my job to give you all the facts so you can protect yourself. Your dad can work on the daring. He’ll run headlong off the dock with you and I’ll check the temperature of the water. We’re a good combination that way. For now I’ll just say…

Don’t play with fire. Always note the Emergency Exits. Have an Earthquake kit at home and in your car. Take a first aid course. Don’t go to sleep smoking or with a laptop on your bed. Charge your cell phone. Carry a spare tire. Be alert when you drive. And if you’re ever robbed, give up everything without question. Don’t give them any reason to hurt you. Stuff is replaceable. You aren’t.

Be smart. Use your head. And if your head’s a bit fuzzy, call your parents. We’ll come get you. No questions asked.

I love you. Take care.

xo Mom

Jan 23

18 Comments

Friendship: An Overview

Dear Lochie,

Friends are one of the most significant things you can have in your life. For many, friends are even more important than family. I’ve heard it said that “friends are the family you choose for yourself” and I believe that to be true. In many ways it’ll be even more applicable to you because you’re an only child. You have no peers genetically linked to you. I know there lots of siblings that don’t get along, but at the very least, I always saw siblings as a built-in ally, if not a best friend. Even if they don’t see eye to eye, for the most part, siblings have each others backs. From having someone to talk to in the back seat of the car to weathering the burden of aging parents, people with brothers and sisters aren’t alone. Whether the relationship is cultivated or not is up to the individual. My sickness robbed you of a sibling so your friends will be especially important to you.  Your dad and I will do all we can to make sure you aren’t lonely. As an only child myself I always had friends around. Granny and Granddad went out of their way to include my pals as much as possible. I went on a trip with a friend (or friends) every year in high school. Parties were often at our house and my girlfriends had an annual weekend at the cottage for almost a decade. My parents made a real effort to know my circle and to make sure to include them as much as possible. As a result my friends remain close to my family today. I’m hoping to cultivate that same environment for you. I just bought a new car and the question arose of why I would need a third row of seats when there only 3 people in our family. It’s for your friends. I want there always to be room for them in our lives. I want them to feel as welcome at our house as my group always was at mine.

My 16th Birthday at the cottage with my girls. I'm the moon face in the front.

Right now Dad and I are your best friends. You tell us everything and want to be with us as much as possible. And as much as my heart hurts to know it won’t always be like that, it’s an important step in growing up for your parents to be usurped by your friends in order of importance. So, knowing it’s coming (sniff) here’s my advice. I want you to have killer friends and the only way you get that is by being one yourself.

To make friends you have to do two things:

1, BE YOURSELF– you can’t make real friends without putting your real self out there. People have to know you to befriend you. Don’t change to try and fit in. If you have to change, those aren’t the right people for you. You don’t have to be the same as everyone – lots of friendships are based in similarities but solidified by differences – you just have to stay true to yourself and the right people will find you.

2, CARE WHO THE OTHER PERSON IS – When I was little granny tacked a piece of birch bark on my wall that said, “You can make more friends in 3 days by being genuinely interested in other people than you can in 3 years by trying to make other people genuinely interested in you.” Take the time to listen and really understand people.  You are incredibly interesting but so are others. I’ve alway been a devoted friend, but when I was younger I was preoccupied with how I was perceived. I wanted so much to be “cool”, to be “accepted”. That’s pretty normal teenage behavior – self absorption and the need to fit in – but it’s not something I’m particularly proud of. What I am proud of though, is that I had, and continue to have, great friends. I cared about them and they knew it. I hope they still do. I also took the opportunity to be friends with a number of different kinds of people and that was a smart choice.

Here’s the thing, I’ve always felt that cliques had a bad rap. Some people click. Others don’t.  Essentially a clique is just a group of people that get along better than others. It only is classified as a clique when the folks involved are “cool”. A bunch of kids that let’s say, love D&D, and hang out with each other exclusively would not be considered a clique and yet, technically, they are. I think cliques are only bad when others are excluded maliciously. Exclusion itself happens organically. People with similar interests tend to hang with each other. That’s just how it is.

23 years old. Our first friend's wedding. Same group of girls. I'm the head on the bride's shoulder.

You will, in all likelihood, end up in some sort of clique. You’re a boy so they’ll call it a “group”. Enjoy it. It’s nice being part of a pack. I myself was part of a group internally dubbed SITC (after a game played on the original 90210 called Skeletons in the Closet, not after the popular TV show that took over my early 20’s called Sex in the City, though that’s not so far off) To this day, those girls remain some of my closest friends. At this point we’re more like family than friends, our knowledge of each other is so deep. We accept each others shortcomings as fact and have a vernacular that only comes from 25 years of friendship. Our relationships within the group – who’s closer to whom, who drives who crazy, who we’re worried about – changes from year to year. It’s a constantly evolving relationship. So, if I were to say “don’t be cliquey” I’d be a hypocrite and, I think I’d be advising you wrong. If you’re lucky enough to find yourself in a crowd where you feel you belong – whether there are 3 of you or 13 – respect and cultivate those relationships. They can be a huge source of strength for you throughout your life. When I was diagnosed, the first person I called was one of my girls. The one I knew wouldn’t cry. I gave her the facts and she relayed them to the rest of the group. She had exactly the right attitude to keep me from breaking down. Once I’d learned to handle the idea of being sick, I could then talk to the others without tears. To this day I wear the Tiffany’s bracelet they got for me (coordinating in 3 separate countries) to let me know they were there. It makes my medical alert look much more tolerable.

29 years old. My Bachlorette. Same girls. C&W theme to lovingly mock my solitary love of country music.

There’s a real intrinsic value in being part of a group, should you be blessed enough to find a good one, but I would also advise you not to segregate or limit yourself to only those people. I was a  joiner. The member of lots of teams and clubs so I took full advantage of mixing it up in the friendship department. I also went to camp and some of my dearest friends are still from those summers. I’d encourage you to branch out. Try not to get too caught up in who’s cool or not cool. If you’re not traditionally cool don’t write off the cool kids and vice versa. There are so many interesting people out there. I have a number of friends who, at first glance, I have little in common with and yet we adore each other. Their perspective is different. Their humor is divine. They give me insight I wouldn’t otherwise have and I’m a better and more well rounded for having them in my life. But keep in mind, with friends in different circles it’s very important that you stay consistent. If you make an untraditional friend, remain his, or her, friend no matter the circumstance. Your friendship should not be contingent on environment.

Friendship is also not perfect. Like any good relationship, it has it’s ups and downs. When I started a new school in Grade 6, I was accepted right away by a girl who was, for all intents and purposes, the leader of the grade. She took me under her wing and introduced me to a whole new world. One day in late spring our group went to an event called May Fair (a small local fair with a BIG social element if you’re 11-17). I arrived at her house in flowered boxer shorts and a bright fushia t-shirt (1987, lest you judge) and all the other girls were wearing cut off jeans and white shirts. That may not sound like a big deal, but for the 10-year-old new girl it felt like the end of the world. When my friend realized my discomfort she immediately went upstairs and cut a pair of her jeans for me to wear. She cut her jeans for me. I have no idea what her parents thought, but I’ll never forget that kindness. 2 years later, that same friend and I had a falling out and she ostracized me. The power she had used to bring me in, she used to cast me out. I would talk and she would pretend she couldn’t hear me. What was worse is that the whole group went along with it. I fought and cried and rallied against it, to no avail. No one would talk to me. I was dead to them. (For the record, girls can be a lot tougher than boys in the mind game department – kinda glad you can avoid that)  So, I dried my tears and, for the second half of the year, I got another set of friends. There was talk of Granny and Granddad pulling me from the school because I was so miserable, but I knew that was the wrong choice. I had to learn, if not accept, how to deal with the problem, and getting new friends was the first step to that.

The thing is, once I accepted it, it mattered less and less, and eventually it didn’t really affect me anymore. People only have power over you if you let them. That’s a hard thing to see when you’re in the middle of something, but still a good thing to know in the back of your head. Friendship shouldn’t be hard just as love shouldn’t be pain. Sometimes you just gotta let go. As it turned out, once I was over it, it was over. In the summer between Grade 8 and 9, my old friend called to apologize for treating me so badly. It was a nice call to get. One I had dreamed about getting all fall, but by August mattered much less. When we got  back to school – High School – no one person seemed to have the power anymore. New girls came in and I met the person who would be my best friend and closest ally for the next 8 years. We too eventually had a falling out and coming back together. Life is like that. Don’t write off a friendship because of a fight. Sometimes you need time or space to grow. Sometimes it’s just over. That’s ok too. Not all friendships make it. Not all are supposed to.

For the record, that jean short cutting friend/Grade 8 nemesis is now your God Mother so…you just never know.

What I learned in that year though, is that you can’t put all your eggs in one basket. Friends can let you down. They can disappoint you. And though I ultimately ended up back with my old group, I knew I had to remain branched out. You might ask yourself, why did I go back? Why after being ignored by this group of girls for a year did I return to them? Why didn’t I continue to hang with the group that accepted me when I was an outcast?  I just think it was an organic swinging of the pendulum. I’m not sure if there’s a lesson to be gleaned from my experience other than to be open and kind to people always. Things have a way of working themselves out.

Now, because I made a lot of dear friends early, I have few close friends from University or Grad School. There were plenty of great people I hung out with, but as far as retaining those relationships long term, it didn’t really happen. My dance card was full. I have a couple great pals from my days in New York but I don’t get to see them enough. You might find the opposite. Your close friendships might occur after your childhood/teenage years. Your Dad lived all around the world as a kid so most of his tightest bonds (with a couple notable exceptions) are from his adult years. There’s something special about old friends – who know your family, where you come from and who you were – but there is also something exceptional about the friends you make as an adult, as the person you are, not the person you’re perceived to be. Adult friends are, in some ways, less complicated. As time goes by you make less friends because you need less friends. Friendship takes time and commitment and as adults we don’t have a lot of either. So if you connect with someone as a grown up  it’s really special. You’ve chosen that person because they truly add to your life. They accept you for the person you are without the shadow of the person you were.

Some of my closest "Adult" friends. We don't see each other nearly enough. Grown up schedules are a killer!

Finally, as I’ve said before in my letter about Technology, you live in a socially networked world. Please don’t judge yourself on the amount of friends or followers you have on line. In my opinion, no one needs 500 friends. It’s too much work. However, you can sometimes reconnect with or get to know people you wouldn’t have otherwise using technology. It’s a brave new world for that. Acquaintances I had earlier in life have become friends on line. Sometimes the get to know you phase is simpler without the pressure of getting together. It’s often easier to share your feelings in the cyber world within the protection of a well crafted email or note. I know things about people that I’m not sure they would have told me had we been speaking in person. You can be more open on line. Plus, you can edit what you’ve said before you send it, a luxury so many of us wish that we had in real conversations. Finally you can be friends with people who aren’t in your day to day life. I can retain my friendships with people all over the world by remaining part of their lives on line. So when we see each other it’s not like we lost track. We can just pick up where we left off. And isn’t that, in itself, the definition of a good friendship?

Choose your friends wisely. Don’t cultivate relationships with people who are petty or cruel. Remember, if you can’t trust someone it isn’t real. Be the kind of friend you’d like to have and let people know how much they mean to you. Be loyal and forgiving. Everyone wants to be liked and accepted and ultimately everyone makes mistakes. Find common ground and build on it. Because friendships will carry you through life. They will be the life raft to your drowning man and champagne that launches your boat.

Never underestimate the power of a true friend.

Your best friend always,

xo Mom

Jan 16

34 Comments

Regrets

Before I begin let me just say what an honor it was to be chosen for Fresh Pressed last week. Thank you to all who took the time to read my post on The Death of Anticipation and to those of you who responded. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to everyone but I thoroughly appreciate the support and positive feedback. I am also very grateful to those of you who took the time to peruse the site and read and respond to other posts. This process of writing to Loch is a real labor of love and I am thrilled that so many of you see it as a useful and engaging endeavor. I hope you will continue to read both old and new posts and find that them worthwhile. But, since I planned to do a new post a week, the time has come to move on. Thanks again and keep reading.  xo leigh

Dear Lochie,

Here’s the thing about regrets, you want as few as possible. Some are inevitable, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up about them, but if you’re really using your noodle they should be few and far between. It’s a pretty good rule of thumb to ask yourself, will I ever regret this? Maybe not now but later? If the answer is anything other than no, rethink it. That doesn’t mean don’t take risks. It just means be accountable for them.

When I was in my 3rd year of University at McGill I went to dinner with your Granddad. I went with the express intention of telling him that I didn’t plan to do an Honours (spelled with a U in Canada) degree in my final year.  I believed it was unnecessary. I had no plans for Graduate school, Law School or any other school, and the work required, not to mention the extra classes and 100 page defendable thesis, seemed excessive without the goal of further education. Granddad listened to my argument without interruption. Then, as I drank to this day the best chocolate martini ever, (clear, not milky, served with raspberries) he laid it out for me. He didn’t veto it outright, as he had when I expressed my thoughts of deferring University altogether for theatre school, he simply asked me two questions: “Can you tell me without hesitation that making this choice will never matter?” and “Can you tell me that you will never wish you’d chosen differently?”  How could I know that? All I knew was that I had no plans of higher education so why would I mire myself down with a last year of someone who did.

Granddad: “So, when you’re applying for a job one day and you don’t get it, you can tell me it wasn’t because the other person had a graduate degree and you didn’t?”

Me: “Well no. How would I know that?”

Granddad: “Well if you had a graduate degree, you’d know it wasn’t a lack of one that didn’t get you the job. ”

Me: “Right…”

Granddad: “Then why make a choice now that effects all your future choices?”

Me: “But I don’t want to go to Graduate School.”

Granddad: “And you might not. But if you don’t do the degree then you probably can’t. Why close that door now when you might regret it later? ”

His argument made sense and we left that dinner with my decision to do the Honours degree changed. I’d do the degree and if I didn’t need it, no harm done, but if I changed my mind, I had it.

I changed my mind.

As the end of University approached I realized I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and I’d be better off deciding while in school – improving my chances of further job opportunities – than I would be working in some random job. I applied to a very prestigious Graduate program in Broadcasting at Ryerson University (3rd in North America at the time after USC and NYU) and was one of the 40 students out of 1500 applicants accepted. I’d be naive to say that honors degree didn’t help.

It also turns out that I was right about not wanting to go to Grad School. I finished only one of the two years as I was offered a job in Film Distribution in January of my first year. A group I was in won a business award called “The Pitch” in which we had to present our project and findings to a room full of television industry people. I guess I made an impression as I was offered a number of jobs after that event. I worked and went to school for 6 months and by June, I was working full time. One thing I did do though was fulfill all my scholastic requirements for that year to the best of my ability. That way in case I ever wanted to return to school I could. I didn’t ever want to regret leaving.

I never did.

I did find however, that working full time selling Television and Film didn’t make me happy. I hated my days in an office. Just because I worked in a “cool” industry didn’t make my job cool. Every day felt the same. I switched up the monotony by taking a different route to work, or having a cappachino instead of a latte. It just wasn’t for me. One day, after being there just over a year, I left work early for a “doctor’s appointment” and went to a movie instead (!!). The movie was Center Stage, a story about young people – in this case, dancers – living out their dreams in NYC. I sat in the theatre, surrounded by numerous little girls in ballet outfits, crying. I knew I was on the wrong path.  I knew had to do what the kids in the film were doing. I’d always wanted to be an actor and not following that dream was killing me. I left the movie theatre and went home and said, “I’m quitting my job and moving to New York” and I wasn’t kidding. I knew I’d regret never giving it a real shot and when I laid the plan out for my parents I think they must have seen that too. They agreed to support my move and pay for acting school. As it turned out, the only legitimate school I hadn’t missed the deadline for was Circle in the Square, a 2 year theatre conservatory program set 2 floors underneath a working Broadway Theatre in Times Square. So, I FedEx-ed my application, was on a plane within the month to audition, and 3 months later I moved and never looked back.

Now, I did quite well in New York as an actress. I had some pretty cool credits to show for myself and when I graduated I was one of the first of my classmates to sign with an agency and manager. I did a whole lot of theatre and just missed a couple of really excellent permanent TV gigs. When I moved to LA 5 years later I thought it was the right time. I wasn’t getting any younger and I really wanted to do television. The exit of Friends had left an opening for sitcom darling and I thought I’d just breeze in and take it. Not so much. LA is a tough town. As soon as I got here I realized how old I really was. 28 in LA is like 45 in regular years. All my theatre credits were practically worthless. It was like I’d been a dental hygienist in Omaha and had just decided to become an actress. It was horrible. I had moments where I cursed my family for telling me I couldn’t go to theatre school right out of High School. If I’d done that I wouldn’t be so old now! But I couldn’t regret my years at McGill. I loved University. I became an adult there. I learned who I was and I had so much fun doing it. I wouldn’t give up those days for anything. I also don’t regret following my dreams to NYC. Though I’m no longer an actress it put me on the right path. It brought me joy and inspiration and ultimately lead me to your father and you.

You’ll never regret following your dreams even if those dreams change along the way. You will, however, regret taking the “safe” road and always wondering “what if…”

When I got to LA I switched from my New York agent to the LA office with some difficulty. None of the agents really knew me, and any money I made went back to NY as they were the ones who originally signed me. So I found the LA office had no vested interest in me. I didn’t have a champion so I tried to make some connections. I took one agent out to lunch. Made friends with him and learned his son loved frogs. When his daughter was born, I gave him a present but also included a froggy stuffed animal so his son wouldn’t feel left out. I sent cards and left messages to stay fresh in their brains. I changed managers at their request and did everything I could to ingratiate myself. Then I did something that, to this day, I regret. I had recently seen Dirty Dancing 2 and found the acting appalling. Not working had made me angry so anybody in a public and well recognized role that did a s^*#y job just pissed me off. I ended up taking a box of cupcakes to my agency (another ploy to make them like me) and on the top of the box I wrote: “Just saw Dirty Dancing 2. If SHE’s working then I definitely should be! Let’s make this happen! xo Leigh” It literally makes me feel sick to think about it now. I got a call later that day from one of the agents balling me out for my “inappropriate behavior” and “extremely poor” choice to write such a thing. She told me she had ripped the top off the box and I should “think” before I do things. She further informed me that this particular actress was a very big star in England (she was well known) and a “friend of the agency” and that I should use my brain before I “disparage” someone again. I was humiliated. Apologetic and humiliated. I was also soon dumped from that agency. I’ll tell you this babe, I don’t for one minute regret having that opinion. She was terrible in the film. Wooden, fake and two dimensional. What I DO regret is having that opinion in a public and professional forum. I’ve seen that actress in many films since and she’s quite good (especially when she remains British) but my choice to voice negativity in that way was the wrong one and I paid dearly for it.

If you have an opinion of someone, unless you are a critic whose job is to critique, mind your audience. Your Dad has worked with some big name actors who are, for lack of a better term, total a-holes. When people ask him what they’re like the best answer he can give is an upbeat “fine”. Hedge your bets. Be ambiguous. Answer in a way that allows you to be truthful without being critical. You never know who knows whom. You don’t want to be the guy talking out of turn, and unless someone is just truly intolerable think about what Granny used to say, “If you can’t say anything nice. Don’t say anything at all.” In the privacy of your personal life feel free to rip on people if they deserve it, just be careful of how widely your opinions are known. Don’t let them come back to bite you in the a*^. It’s a terrible feeling. Trust me.

virgonova.wordpress.com

My first kiss was an excellent one. Grade 9 March break on a cruise. His name was Zeb Ripple and he went to boarding school in Connecticut. He was about the coolest boy in the world and I was just crazy about him. When we held hands for the first time electric shocks went through my whole body. And when we first kissed I thought I might die of happiness. We spent the whole week together and when he left the ship he gave me his hat and I slept with it for weeks crying my eyes out. The thing is, the feelings were mutual and he called and wrote me all the time. We made a plan to have him come up to Toronto for my first Semi-Formal ever. He was excited. I was excited. My parents were ok having him stay with us. It was like a dream. Then, I panicked. I was quite insecure about my looks in comparison to my friends. It wasn’t till University that I even thought I was that attractive. During High School I was “the funny friend of So in So.” or “The cool girl that hangs out with Blank”. I started to panic that Zeb would come to Toronto and fall in love with one of my friends. I felt that would be worse than never seeing him again. So I uninvited him. I UNINVITED him!!! Good God. What an idiot. I can’t even remember what I said to make him not come. He was really disappointed but we made a plan to meet up in the summer when I was going to be in Maine. I thought, Yes, that’s safe. He’ll just see me. It’ll be the same and I won’t’ lose him to someone else. But, the day before he was scheduled to come he got in a car accident and couldn’t make it. I never saw him again. What a fool I was. I let fear and insecurity ruin what could have been a magical night and possibly a wonderful relationship.

I made a similar mistake a year later when I fell for this boy who had a cottage near me. His brother was a big hockey player and the family got a lot of attention for it. We connected the spring of Grade 10 and had a pretty cute little thing going. When I had my annual girls weekend at the cottage that June, he came over with bunch of his buddies to hang out. My friends teased them mercilessly. The thing is, they went to an all boys school that wasn’t as traditionally “cool” as the guys we normally hung out with. They were all hockey players and as a group did come off a bit “meat heady”. Individually, I’m sure they were all pretty nice, I know the guy I liked was. But as a group they didn’t do themselves any favors, and my friends, being smart, educated, ladies, just decimated them. It wasn’t good. The boys resorted to tactics like going swimming so they could show off their not unimpressive physiques but it came off as cheesy and lame and only increased the awkwardness of the situation. So when the boy I liked called me later in the week I blew him off. My friends wouldn’t approve, and at the time that was more important than the fact that I liked him and wanted to be with him.

So that boy turned out to be a big NHL hockey star too. Gorgeous and fun and after University all the prettiest and coolest girls were after him. The same girls that had dismissed him years before were interested in him now. One weekend I ended up at his cottage (now on a more expensive and swanky lake than before) and he told me how much I’d hurt him in High School. That he’d really liked me and I’d dropped him for no reason. I had nothing to say but sorry. Sorry that I hadn’t been strong enough not to bow to my friend’s perception and that I was fully aware I’d screwed up. He agreed and ended up dating one of my best friends for about 6 months. It was pretty hard to swallow. Now, it also turns out that fame had made him a bit of a player and he didn’t stay with any girl for long, but the regret is still mine. I shouldn’t have done what I thought my friend’s would have done. I should have done what I wanted to do.

Never make choices based on others opinions. Be confident enough to do what makes you happy. Others will fall in. And if they don’t, f^*k em. It’s your life. You’re the one who has to live it.

For the record, there’s a difference between a regret and wishing you’d made a different choice. Regrets are the things that still make you shake your head years later. Dating the guy that treated me like garbage in University? I don’t regret that. It taught me what I didn’t want, what I was really worth and how to say “no, this is not good enough for me.” It took me 2 years of totally unhealthy behavior, but I learned it. Dating the weird bartender dude in NY with the mohawk and very probable secret drug problem? Don’t regret it. It was fun and different gave me one of the coolest memories ever – driving across the Brooklyn Bridge at dusk in late summer on the back of his vintage Triumph motorcycle, the orange and pink clouds highlighting New York’s beautiful skyline and the summer wind on my face. Did it work out? Of course not. But it was fun while it lasted.

Brooklyn Bridge Sunset Photograph - Brooklyn Bridge Sunset Fine Art Print - Susan Candelario

Dating the supermodel with 5 kids? Absolutely no regrets. I did that for almost 2 years and it was a lovely relationship. It taught me how important it is to be with someone kind (and handy) and it enforced my belief in boundaries for children. Plus, I knew it wasn’t forever. The thing is you can date people and do things that teach you lessons that stay with you long after the situation changes. Things I regret are actions like drinking too much on my 3rd date with a famous actor I’d met at a bar. We’d gone out a couple of times and everything was going really well. He invited me to come and see him headlining in Shakespeare in the Park and then for drinks at his private club. I was so into this guy (and maybe a little intimidated by his celebrity) that I got really nervous and overdid it on the booze. I ended up kind of acting like a tool. He never called me again and I still look at that night and groan. Do I regret not being with him? No, I was meant to be with your father. Do I do regret my behavior? Hells yes. Try to avoid that feeling. It still makes me cringe.

Make your decisions in life with a clear head using your own mind, rather than using others opinions as your guide.  Be aware of making decisions under the influence of anything. Drugs (though I hope we can avoid this one), alcohol or other people. Try and ask yourself if there’s any chance you’ll regret the decision later and adjust your actions accordingly. Be aware of your audience when sharing your opinions and remember that professional situations require different, more guarded behavior. Follow your heart and know that at the end of the day you’re the one that has to live with the success or fallout of your decisions.

Be happy. Be safe. Use protection. Believe me, those are regrets you don’t want to deal with, ever.

Life is a wonderful adventure. Try to have as many experiences as you can with as few mishaps as possible. As Frank says, “Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention…” Do it your way and be proud you did.

I love you always.

xo Mom

Dec 27

43 Comments

Marriage: A Recommendation and Disclaimer

Dear Loch,

Upon rereading my post about how to be a man, I realized that it was, in many ways, a love letter to your father. He is a marvelous man and someone I am so very grateful to have in my life. I am a big believer in marriage. It’s not for everyone, but it was definitely for us, and something I truly wish for you. Finding someone that you want to share your life with is one of the greatest gifts you could ever have. Someone who’s lived your history and is part of your memories. Someone who, at the end, knows you were here. Someone for whom you truly mattered. But lest you think it’s all puppy dogs and rainbows, I want you to know that it’s not just get married, happily ever after, that’s it, the end.

I once MC-ed a friend’s wedding and in my speech I said that marriage is like picking the person you want to spend the rest of your life in a car with. You don’t road trip with just anyone. You have to really like a person to do that. The road will have it’s ups and downs, you’ll go through good weather and bad, you’ll be lost then find your way, you’d stay in some great places and some where the water doesn’t work, people will join you for a while and then they’ll be gone. To navigate that kind of trip properly you have to like the same things but not be the same person and you have to truly enjoy and accept the other’s company because after all the games are played, the magazines read and the radio’s off, it’s just the two of you forever, and that’s not something to be taken lightly. Lately, I feel like marriage in general, is up for debate. Should gay couples be given the same right to marry as straight ones? My answer is yes. Should it be harder to get out of a marriage so people take getting into it more seriously?  I’d answer a provisional yes. Should you be able to be married to more than one person at the same time? I’d go with no. And are same sex marriages undermining the state of marriage? No, straight celebrity marriages are. I’m talking to you Kim Kardashian/Britney Spears/Renee Zellwiger…

If you find someone you want to marry – truly spend your life with, not, we’ll see how it goes –  then treat it with respect. It’s not about the wedding. A beautiful wedding does not a beautiful marriage make. Don’t get me wrong, a fabulous day that celebrates you as a couple is a wonderful way to spend your money, but you still have to work on the marriage itself. When Dad and I got married (June 22, 2005) lots of people asked us why not just take the money we would spend on one day and use it for something more practical like the down payment on a house. That never occurred to us. We really wanted that day. Our day. And we never regretted it. To be able to make those promises to each other in front of our family and friends was so special for us. On my death bed, whenever that may be, I won’t be patting myself on the back for my practicality but reliving my most wonderful memories, and my wedding (and subsequent honeymoon) is  right up there on that list.

Our wedding party in our “Vanity Fair” shot. Shot by Wedding Day Memories, Toronto.

It’s that memory. That day. That look you see on bride and groom’s faces that says “Oh my God we’re really doing this…” The way your relationship feels different after, no matter how long you’d been together before. It’s that legal and, if you believe it, spiritual bind that makes you truly family, truly an “Us” that makes marriage so special. Subsequently it’s that same feeling that makes same sex marriage a no brainer to me. Someone Granny’s age once said to me, “But why do they have to get married? They have all the same rights…” I responded with, “Why did I have to get married? Why did you?”. It’s different to be married. It means something different. It’s the ultimate statement of love and commitment and if you feel that way and are really willing to put your hands in and do the work you should be allowed to. No matter who it is you want to marry.

The thing is being married is no joke. It’s hard bloody work. It’s changing your pronoun from me to we. And though I’d advocate retaining your own identity within your marriage, you can no longer make decisions just for yourself and that’s hard adjustment to make. Your choices directly affect one another. You can’t just do what’s best for you. I’d hazard to say that’s why so many celebrity marriages fail.

Didn’t Work. As Scarlett rightfully said, she just wasn’t willing to settle in and “do the work”.

When you’re a celebrity or married to your job, you live in a world where you are #1. In a celebrity’s case you have a team of people behind you who’s livelihood depends on your success. People who put their jobs first find they can’t just scrap it all based on what’s best for the marriage. They have to stay on their game. Do what the job asks of them and not what the marriage needs from them. Subsequently the marriage falters. Living in a different city than your spouse? Never going to work. Both people trying to be #1? Never going to work. For a marriage to succeed there has to be give and take. And that means one person has to give. It doesn’t always have to be the same person but it always has to be someone. You can’t be both looking out for yourself. It just doesn’t work that way.

Worked. She adjusted and took a back seat to his career. It’s a tough gig but worth it. Just ask Paul Newman & Joanne Woodward.

Your father’s dream is to be a successful actor. When we met I was also an actor. Watching him go in and out of auditions with such confidence and success is one of the reasons I changed paths. He was loving it and I was becoming a neurotic mess worried about my hair and age and wrinkles. And when we decided to get married there just seemed like one too many actors in the family. At the time I likened it to being in Vegas where one of you is on a hot streak and the other is losing all their money. It just made sense for me to cash in my chips and give them to Sean. He had a better chance of winning for the both of us.

The trouble is, that was 8 years ago and though your father continues to earn a living as an actor, he still hasn’t “made it” and we struggle. We struggle to pay our bills. We struggle with my A type ambition and lack of “career”. We struggle with my realism vs. his “it’ll all work out” optimism. We struggle with my being sick and his having to earn almost all our income alone. We struggle when he’s away working one of his 3 jobs (on top of acting) and not seeing him enough. We struggle when he is home and working on one of the projects he hopes will take over from the side jobs, and we don’t see him enough. We struggle with the lack of time left in the day for me to get my dreams off the ground. We struggle with our fiery personalities and the fact that with 2 actors in the household someone always has the ability to get a little dramatic…

Baby, for all the great love your dad and I share, tying your life to another’s is a struggle. It’s worth it in our case, but it’s NOT EASY. When you were very little and we’d fight you’d scream. It upset us so much. We said we shouldn’t fight in front of you, but we weren’t so good at that. Now that you’re older you act like a little referee. You come into the room and if we’re raising our voices (which, despite our best efforts, we do often) you tell us to take a “Time Out”. I told you you could do that. I thought it might give you a sense of control when you might be feeling nervous about Daddy and me. It works. You like bossing us around and it gives us a chance to cool down. Your dad and I have a tendency to get on a bit of a train that neither of us can stop and our fights often escalate because of it. Having a period away from each other can help keep things in perspective. Sometimes, however, we don’t heed your advice and we keep at each other until we are both exhausted. That’s the thing, fighting is exhausting. I also think it can be healthy. We stopped trying to hide our disagreements from you for that reason. Is it pleasant? No. Does show you the truth of life? Yes. If you believed your parents never fought and then you got into a relationship and inevitably ended up fighting, you might say, “Well, this isn’t working. My parents never argued. This obviously isn’t the right person for me.” But if you see us fighting, then compromising, then understanding and then finally hearing and accepting each other you learn something much different. If we were parents that fought dirty, undermined each other and called each other names then perhaps you would just be learning nothing more than how to be cruel. But, for all your father and my bluster, we always work it through. We always come back to the table. We always end with love and that, in all it’s imperfection, is worth knowing.

And the things you fight about in a relationship are not all big things. More often than not is about dumb, everyday things like how you load the dishwasher. Sure, money, or our lack there of, is our biggest source of tension, but our most recent fight was about our cable provider. Dad wanted to switch and I didn’t. Everytime we switch something always goes wrong and we end up switching back. I wanted to avoid the anxiety and quite frankly I liked it all the way it was. I understood and could use it – and we have like 6 remote controls so that’s saying something. But the savings was $100/m, and I couldn’t in all good conscience say no, even though I really, really wanted to. The TV is my domain (your Dad’s more of a video gaming computer relaxer) so I’m a little testy about anything to do with it anyway.

So… we switched, and it broke down like this: Cable guy shows up and it’s not what they promised on the phone. We aren’t getting what we thought but are assured it’ll be “just as good”. The modem they install is faulty so they have to send us another one. The one they send us is different and doesn’t fit with the parts they’d installed. They have to send a technician to fix it. We go without cable, internet and phone service for 3 days. (Our cell phones don’t work in our house without our modem so we were really SOL). I stayed home from 8-12 to wait for a technician who never shows and when we call, they tell us that when they said “tomorrow” on Monday the person we spoke to was in INDIA and “tomorrow” actually meant Wednesday. I wait again the next day from 8-12. By the time I could actually turn on the TV, I found that my shows were now being broadcast with black bars on either side like I had a TV from 1987. When your Dad told me that was an SD channel and I had to find the HD channel to watch my show without the bars, I lost it. I told him I didn’t want to find it. I didn’t want to think this hard or try and relearn a whole new system that made me feel as technologically inept as my mother. I told him I was infuriated that I could no longer work the DVD player which was now his X-BOX and who’s controller felt like an alien in my hand. I went crazy and he was defensive and we subsequently lost it on each other. Terrible. Hideous. Behavior. 4 hours and multiple texts and phone calls later we realized that all he needed to say was, “I’ll fix it” and all I needed to say was, “Great, thank you” and the rest was just noise. But that’s the kind of noise you deal with when you tie your life to someone else. If I was single I’d just get the TV I liked and be done with it. But I’m not, so now I have to play You’ve Got Mail like I’m setting up for Modern Warfare 3 and do it with a smile on my face.

I think if we fought about major things like the way we treated each other or how to raise you it would be different, but for the most part we fight about ridiculous things like emptying the garbages (this never gets done) or opening the curtains (which is a must for me in the morning and for your father is a, justifiably, obscure and irrelevant issue). At the end of the day you have to put the relationship first. Is it more important to be right or to be happy? Does it really matter that I have to open the curtains? No. Shouldn’t I just be happy he makes the bed? Probably. This is not to say you should just roll over in a marriage, you should just ask yourself what’s best for it and try and make your decisions accordingly.

Your Dad and I talk about everything. Years ago when I was maybe 14 or 15, I was eating with Granny and Granddad in the dining room table and Granddad finished, thanked Granny for dinner and got up to leave. I told him (in the cheeky way that only a child can) that if he was going to leave the table first it would be great if he cleared. He didn’t even bat an eyelash. He was like, ok, sure. And he took our plates so Granny and I could keep talking. You could have knocked Granny over with a feather. After, she expressed how she couldn’t believe I’d said what I’d said, and more so, she couldn’t believe how easily Granddad had complied. I told her at the time – and have told her many times since about my own marriage – if you don’t ask for it, how will you ever get it? You have to say what you want. Don’t secretly seethe for 30 years that someone doesn’t do what you think they should. Everything is a compromise but most things are much simpler than we give them credit for. If the compromises are too big then maybe that’s not the right person for you anyway.

For all the difficulties that come with marriage there are also so many amazing things. To truly feel like part of a team. To have that kind of trust. It’s priceless. I read an article in Vanity Fair a couple of years ago about a classic old Hollywood star, her husband, her lover and her husband’s lover all vacationing together in the 1940’s. Sean and I discussed it. Affairs vs. Open Marriages. What works. What doesn’t. And what it came down to – after a very lively “what if” discussion – is that we wouldn’t want to mess with what we have. That any short term pleasure could never compare with the long term security and unity we have with each other. That even knowingly accepting that breech of trust would be like poisoning the well and it wasn’t worth it. Committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life is hard but it makes it so much easier to know that all your feelings, and all you are, are accepted within that relationship. Nothing is taboo. Nothing is off the table. Anything is possible but everything is not necessary. We also discovered we wanted to take more vacations together.

Your Dad and I have made a pact to get remarried every 5 years. It’s fun. We get to have a different kind of wedding and re-commit to each other and remind ourselves of why we got married in the first place. It’s not for other people. It’s just for us. On our 5th Anniversary we renewed our vows in Vegas. Elvis did the ceremony in a total of 4 and a half minutes (no joke, we have a DVD) and though we laughed through the whole thing saying the vows again meant something totally different 5 years later just as it will 10, 15, 40 years later. When you first start out you think everything is going to be perfect. Life isn’t perfect. For richer for poorer means more now. So does in sickness and in health.

Our Vegas Wedding for our 5th! Just us, Elvis and the guy who took the pics, Dave.

Marriage is a journey and you have to celebrate your triumphs because not everyday is good. A couple that had been married for 60 some odd years was asked the secret of a lasting marriage and they said that neither had fallen out of love at the same time. That’s the thing. There’s ebbs and flows. You just have to keep growing and changing together. Encourage and help each other to become the best possible version of yourselves. Don’t swallow your feelings and be willing to trench it out to get to the other side of an issue. Keep working and keep finding new ways to respect and love the other. There are times when, at the end of the day your dad sits beside me on the bed and we just look at each other. As corny as it sounds, there is a stillness in his eyes. A calm I don’t have on my own and one I absolutely couldn’t live without. I’m safe with him. I’m happy. I’m cherished. I’m not alone. And that is worth everything.

Find it for yourself angel. Find it and don’t let go.

xo Mrs. McGowan (your mom)

Dec 5

19 Comments

Millennium Manners

Dear Loch,

Recently we went to a wedding and our table of 10 had 4 people at it. The other 6 had decided at the last minute they couldn’t make it. It was the saddest little thing looking at our table with all those empty place settings knowing those meals were all going to waste in the kitchen. You couldn’t even clear away the settings to make it seem like those folks weren’t missing. Our table was deserted. The worst thing is, ours wasn’t the only one like that. The room was spotted with missing guests. I felt terrible for the bride and groom. If you RSVP to something, you’ve made a commitment to be there. Unless you’ve missed your plane or your leg has fallen off or your child is sick, you show up. The hosts have accounted for you in their planning and, in this case, ordered meals, paid for staff, and provided favors with that particular number in mind. To just not make it is incredibly thoughtless.

The thing is, I think thoughtless is becoming the norm. It’s a what’s best for me mentality. And it’s not just a few people. It’s lots of people. It’s half the party we just went to. Half. And it’ll be increasingly difficult to raise you with manners if what’s around you is general rudeness.

Manners are so important Loch, and though they’re becoming a lost art, there is still plenty of appreciation for those that have them. You are a particularly polite boy. You should be I guess, I’m all over you. But the response you get is phenomenal. There’s almost nothing better than a nice, well mannered child. Children are given a lot of slack in the manners department because of their age but when one is polite, it’s a real treat. Adults are expected to know better. Children are expected to be learning. Lately, I think adults could learn a little more.

With the recent rerelease of Emily Post’s iconic “Etiquette” book, there is clearly still a place for proper behavior in our new world. With that in mind. I’d like to go over my list of essentials in the manners department. I’ll refer to it as Millennium Manners. They’re in no particular order.

recklessbliss.blogspot.com

Table Manners – Your Granny was a stickler for these and I’ll be the same for you. At an early age I had to learn to set the table. Fork on the left. Knife on the right. Spoon on the outside of the knife unless it’s for dessert then it’s acceptable to put it horizontally above the plate. The glass (or glasses) goes above the knife to the right of the place setting. The napkin goes on the left to the side or under the fork (or forks) depending on the formality of the meal or on the plate itself depending on the design of the table. When eating you start from the outermost fork first. Small for salads. Big for Entrees. Small for dessert. Your knife and fork can go to at the 4 o’clock and 7 o’clock on the plate while your eating but when you’re done they go side by side at the 4 o’clock with the knife on top with the blade facing in. This might sound complicated but it’s not. I’m actually finding it more complicated to write it down. Once it’s ingrained in your head you never have to think about it. I actually have a real pet peeve about finishing your meal and not putting your fork and knife together. I’ve been known to reach across and push your Dad’s together. It drives him bananas. To be completely honest I have a hard time not putting my knife and fork together ALL the time. I hate seeing them splayed across the plate. (Super anal, I know.) I’ve confused many a waiter into thinking I’m done with my need for a neat plate.

Napkins go on your lap when you sit at the table not when you start eating. If you get up during the meal, they get loosely gathered and placed to the left of your plate (many leave the napkin on their chair but Ms Post says that’s incorrect). You eat soup by holding the spoon and scooping it away from you rather than towards you. This is a hard one to remember and seems kinda silly with chowders etc. but still, it’s good to be aware of the rules before you break them. Certain foods can be eaten with your fingers – asparagus, ribs, chicken legs/wings but never lick your fingers – or if you do, NEVER put your whole finger in your mouth or do more than 2 fingers at a time – it’s gross. I’m sure Emily would say NEVER but sometimes it happens. Just try and be subtle about it.Granny used to say, “would you eat that way with the Queen?” and I’d say, “When the Queen invites me to dinner, I won’t do this.” Mostly, it was about my sitting with my legs crossed, yoga style, in the dining room (infinitely more comfortable). But no, if the Queen or Kate invited us to dinner I would sit with my feet firmly on the ground and you wouldn’t lick your fingers.

If something in your mouth is gross, it is acceptable to quietly take it out and put it on the side of your plate. You don’t have to hide it in a napkin or, as I was taught, “Take it out the way you put it in.” Do you know how hard it is to spit something back onto a fork? Hard. And gross. I’m not going to teach you to do that. Apparently it is acceptable manners to sop up your plate with bread but you’re supposed to use a fork to do it. I’m going to say, again, it’s good to know the rules before you break them, but if it’s a casual meal at home, don’t bother with the fork, and if it’s a formal meal, maybe don’t do it at all. Elbows on the table are perfectly acceptable when there are no plates but not when you’re eating. At a table of under 8 people it is appropriate to wait until everyone has their food to begin eating. If people say, “please go ahead.” you may. If the table has more than 8 people, you may begin when 3-4 people have been served. I personally think, it’s nice to wait for those around you to have their food. If you and the 2 people at the other end of the table have plates, I don’t think that counts. Feel it out. At a big table you aren’t really eating with everyone anyway, but more with the 4 or so people around you. Keep and eye on them. If they have your food. You can eat. That seems appropriate. Also, always show up on time for big dinners out. That way you don’t get stuck at the end of the table talking to whoever was relegated there – usually random new boyfriends or girlfriends.When you cheers, look people in the eye. I had a dear friend who took that part quite seriously. We used to joke around with her by madly staring into each others eyes – stalker style – to rile her up. But really, she was right and it’s a nice thing to do. As a side note: Do you know why you clink glasses when you cheers? It’s so all 5 senses are incorporated. Taste, Smell, Touch, Sight and then Sound. I always thought that was kind of cool.

Subsequent note on booze: When offering a drink, never ask why or push alcohol on anyone who has declined. You don’t know why their not drinking and it’s not your business. Accept their no and politely offer an alternative.

Don’t eat too fast. Finish the food in your mouth before you speak. If you don’t like something, don’t eat it but don’t mention it either. If pressed on it, answer as kindly as possible. “Didn’t you like the beef?” “I don’t think it was for me.”  Asked to be passed things rather than reaching. And taste your food before you salt it. I rarely do this but it’s a good idea. I recently watched a show where one of the characters said he did job interviews over food to see if the potential employee salted his/her food prior to tasting it. To him it meant that the person was set in their ways rather than being attune to the situation at hand and adjusting as needed. I’d never thought of it like that, but there you go. It makes sense. If a waiter is not available, make sure you refresh people’s wine glasses and beverages as needed. Technically, you aren’t supposed to pour your own wine or sake, but very few people know this so don’t get too fussy about it. Never take the last of anything without asking or at least acknowledging you’re doing it. “Would anyone like the last shrimp?” “Would you like another piece of bread?” or if you really want it, do the “If no one wants this last piece of cake, I’m going to go ahead.” Few will stop you. If you are at home or a friend’s, when the meal is over clear the table. The proper way to do this is to start with the women (oldest to youngest) and then do the men. Clear from the right side of the plate so you can control the knife and fork from falling on their laps. And do your own plate last. Most people don’t know this so it might seem like you are just clearing at random, but it is the correct way and older people really appreciate it. When you’re finished your meal you can put your napkin back on the table and thank the host or the cook. Nice manners kid! You make your mama proud.

As a side note to table manners: When eating and drinking in establishments, be nice to your servers and bartenders. I am of the opinion that every North American should have to do at least 6 months in the service industry before they’re 25. Just like Italian citizens used to have to do mandatory military service, we should have to do mandatory waiting on others. Being served is a huge part of our culture and knowing first hand how the other half lives is key to being humble. I never worked in retail but I was a waiter/bartender for 10 years and it’s not all Tom Cruise in Cocktail. You make money. It can be fun. But overall, it’s a soul sucking job that’s both physically and emotionally depleting. There are career waiters and bartenders/mixologists, but for the most part, the people doing it dream of being something else and that’s a tough pill to swallow when someone’s screaming at you over how long it took you to get their Miller Light. If we all knew what it was like to do that job it would give us the perspective that patrons so often need. Having done it myself, I know not to get mad at my server if my dinner is late or badly done. They didn’t cook it. I recognize when they’re in the weeds (overly busy, just trying not to drown) and I’ll cut them some slack on their service during that time. I know that at a busy place the bartender will get to me when they can. I get a space at the bar, establish eye contact, smile and wait. Believe me, they’ll come to me faster than the person yelling at them. Like I said, it’s a s*^# job and they are doing the best they can. Tip 15-20% minimum. Believe me they’re earning it. The only time this isn’t the case is when your server/bartender is rude or incompetent. I am the best and most understanding customer unless you are useless or surly. Then I’m the worst. It doesn’t take much to be fine. To be serviceable. To be polite. But if you are rude or completely blow it on the orders and don’t really care, I’ll be the person talking to your manager and you get a 10% tip, if that. There are too many good actors and musicians out there looking for jobs for that person to be taking one of them.

Also, tip when it’s an open bar. It’s classy and they’re still doing the work even if you aren’t paying for it. That goes for weddings too.

Phone Manners – This is bigger topic than it was in my day as now everyone has a phone on them at all times. I definitely touched on it before in my technology post but the gist is this: Try not to be on the phone (and that includes texting) too much in the presence of a real person. The real person always takes precedence over the virtual person. If you must take a call or respond to a text/email, excuse yourself and, if appropriate, explain ever so briefly why you are doing it. “I just have to let so-in-so know where we’re meeting tonight.” Otherwise your company feels slighted. Maybe your generation will think it’s normal to ignore each other for your phones, but I’m not from your generation, and I want you to know it’s rude. It’s also rude to hang up without saying goodbye or a sign off of some kind. I knew someone who used to just hang up because she felt the conversation was over. I hated it. Hanging up on someone without acknowledgement of an agreed upon end is the height of rudeness. I’m embarrassed to say it is also something I occasionally do when I’m mad to your father. It yields poor results. It is polite to respond to a voice mail within a day even if it’s just by text or email. If someone has left their voice on your system they deserve to be responded too immediately. Do the best you can with emails. I know there’s a lot to go through, but I find it’s most efficient to comb my emails for personal ones first. Even if you’re just saying you’ll get back to them later on something, people like to know they’ve been heard. Finally, somethings should still not be done on the phone/text/social media sites – breakups and condolence calls. In person is the only way for the first and the second is best said in a hand written note.

Crane Stationary

Thank you cards – Are in the same category as the hand written note which, along with condolence letters, are nice for birthdays and apologies. The hand written note is a time killer for sure but people really like getting them and it’s the nicest way to say thanks. Presents deserve a hand written note. I try to get them out within the week I received them. If you don’t they just pile up and smother you while you sleep. Our wedding thank you’s were kind of like that. I was literally having stress dreams about finishing them. Thank you notes are also great for good meetings and when you’ve been invited over to someone’s house for dinner. Really, just get yourself some nice stationary -don’t roll your eyes, I’ll get it for you if I can – and use it to say thanks. They don’t have to be long, just make them as personal as possible. And when you get married, don’t pawn this job off on your wife. Or if you do, at least be VERY grateful.

On receiving gifts – Always be gracious. Even if you don’t like something you say thank you. Find something positive to say about it. Horrible hat? “Thank you, I just love the color red!”Terrible sweater? “Thank you! I can’t believe you were out shopping for clothes for me! That’s so nice!” People blow it a lot in the gift department. You just have to put a smile on your face, be sincere in your gratitude and hope there’s a gift receipt.

Respecting your elders – Older people have been here longer than you. They’ve seen more than you. They know life better than you. You might be younger and faster and, in all probability, better looking, but you are not smarter. Or if you are, you are not allowed to act superior. Listen with respect. Understand the advice you’re being given is an attempt to help you. To give you perspective that that person’s age has afforded them. Open doors for older people – heck open doors for everyone – give up your seat on the subway, call older men sir – if you can’t call them by name – but be careful of calling older women Ma’am. We all wish we were still a Miss. Let your women and your elders go first into, and off of, elevators and doors. Offer to help carry heavy things or help them into cars. Trust me: Boy scout manners have moved many a man forward.

Driving Manners – Driving manners go hand in hand with safety most of the time but I’m going to give you the highlights anyway. I’m the first to say I’m an aggressive driver. I don’t weave but I’ve been known to find my opportunity and move up. I never cut anyone off. I signal my lane changes – very helpful safety wise as well as being courteous. I let people in when they ask. I drive slowly in residential neighborhoods and parking lots, and when I park, I make sure my car is in only one spot when I get out of it. They actually sell “You suck at parking” business cards to put under peoples windshields now, which leads me to believe there’s a real market for them. Don’t be that guy. Make sure you have enough room to open your door without smashing the car beside you or have them smash yours and make sure you don’t park too close to someone so they have to crawl over their passenger seat like I had to do the other day – Thanks a lot black Avalanche!

Don’t text and drive because it’s not safe, but also because it makes you drive like an erratic freak. The amount of times I’ve said, “What’s this guy’s problem?” and then driven past him to see his/her head in their lap typing away… Don’t follow too close behind the car in front of you. One, if they brake and you’re that close, the unavoidable accident is your fault. And two, it’s annoying and it makes people mad. And mad drivers are bad drivers. Much to your Granny’s horror I am a big proponent of the horn. I think it is only rude if it is laid on unnecessarily. The horn is there to say, “Hey, the light changed.” Beep Beep. or “You can go.” Toot. Or “Dude, watch what you’re doing!” Beeeep! There are very few reasons to lay on a horn. Almost sideswipe me on the highway – yes. Too long at a stop sign – no.

As an off-shoot of driving manners I’d like to discuss pedestrian manners. Yes, a driver should stop for you if you are, say, about to cross the street at a cross walk or a light during a walk sign. The driver should not make a right turn before the folks waiting to walk across the street have cleared the area. But pedestrians should also not jay walk right in front of cars like it is there right to cross wherever they want. Jay walkers do not have the right away. They must wait till there is truly no traffic or until some kind soul sees them ahead and slows down to let them go. Same goes for walking in parking lots. You are in the car’s domain and not the other way round.  You yield to them. Walk to the side of the aisles. There is nothing more annoying than driving at 1 mile an hour behind some clueless shoppers meandering up the middle of the parking lot aisle. Move. Out. Of. The. Way. Really it all just comes down to…

General courteousness and having a thought for others – That guy is having a hard time getting out of his driveway onto a busy street? Stop and let him in. The woman behind you has two things to check out at the grocery store and you have 30? Let her go ahead. Pregnant lady getting on a crowded bus? Get up and give her your seat. Don’t wait till the front of the line to figure out what movie you want to see or what you might order off the dollar menu. Look people in the eye when you speak to them. Cover your mouth when you cough. Say “bless you” when someone sneezes. Be a good winner and a good loser. Put the toilet seat down. Use a match. Knock. Be on time. And if you RSVP-ed? You go. It doesn’t matter that something better came up. Leave early if you have to, but you’re going. And please, be understanding of the mother with the crying baby on your plane. Trust me, she’s WAY more miserable than you are.

In short, use your head AND your heart when dealing with others. It’s the golden rule. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And the words, Excuse me, May I, Please, Thank you and Your Welcome are non-negotiable. Because let’s be honest, when it really comes down to it I want people to say, “What a nice boy that Lochlan is. His mother raised him right.”

I love you darling.

xo your Mom

Nov 28

25 Comments

Being a Man

Dear Loch,

So, you have a girlfriend at school. She’s new this year and you’re crazy about each other. She’s your favorite and you’re her hero. It’s mad cute. The other day though, one of the “cool” girls (and I say that with a touch of irony as I know everyone is 3 and 4) told your girlfriend that she could sit beside her. Your girlfriend was thrilled. She’d finally been accepted! You, however, were not so thrilled. As it worked out, there wasn’t enough space now for you to sit. You tried to finesse one but it wasn’t happening so you stood in front of your girl and wailed. You cried and cried until I came and lead you away. What I told you then makes me laugh just thinking of it. It went kinda like this, “Loch, I understand you’re upset. I know you want to be with her but you can’t be the guy crying in her face. Go play with your boys. Sit with someone else. Have fun and just hang out and she’ll come back to you. She has to sit with the girls right now. That a big move for her. But she’s crazy about you and she’ll come back just as long as you aren’t the boy screaming in her face. You don’t wanna be that guy.” Honestly, Preschool mirrors Jr. High more than I can possibly say. But it got me thinking. I told you you “don’t want to be that guy.” But what kind of guy should you be? What kind of man would I like to see you become? What could I possibly have to teach you about being a man?

Loch, you have a wonderful father who has been loving and involved in your life since before you were born. You will learn how to be a good man from him. Sensitive but not wussy. Confidence without arrogance. It’s such a relief for me to know that should I not be around, your father will be. Listen to him. He is a spectacular role model, and despite his rocky beginning in the teenage behavior department, he became one of the best men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. That being said however, women have a unique perspective on what makes a man. What qualities we value varies from person to person but since you are my son, I want you to know what I see as the markings of a truly good man.

When you’re young and dating, people always ask you what your “top 5” requirements are. You’ll answer this question many times in your life. MY list looked something like this:

Top 5 Qualities in an Ideal Man

Ambitious

Sense of Humor/Funny

Smart

Attractive

Powerful

Ambition is a big one and one that still rests near the top of my list. Ambition is a bit illusive as you can be ambitious without being successful, but, I feel that truly ambitious people eventually succeed because they’re not the type to give up. Determine goals for yourself. Set the bar high and be tenacious working towards them. You gotta be “hungry” and not afraid of the work it will take to get where you want to be. Men aren’t lazy. Boys are. Ambition can be a wonderful trait. It can spur you on when you feel like stopping. It can inspire you to find a new way to do something. It can focus your life like no other. Just be sure that your ambition doesn’t overshadow your life. Push yourself. Aim high. Go for the gold, and all the other cliches you can think of, but never at the expense of your family or friends. Getting where you want is not worth anything if you’re alone. Don’t step on anyone on the way up that you wouldn’t want to see on the way down. Remember who helped you. Help others. Be a man you can be proud of and that others are happy for.

Sense of Humor is on everyone’s list. I read once that to most people sense of humor simply means, someone who laughs at my jokes. Funny would be someone who makes you laugh.  Strive to be both.

Hospitalized in Mexico. Sean brings light to the situation.

Ultimately people just want someone who gets them. Funny people are almost always liked. I don’t mean being a comedian – someone who’s always on or pushing to find the humor – or a comic who is funny for a living, but just someone who enjoys the lightness of life and isn’t afraid to laugh at himself. Sense of humor also means someone who can see the humor in a bad situation. Who can brighten a room and make others more comfortable. There’s nothing worse than people who take themselves too seriously. People who are too self aware to laugh a little. A real man uses humor to his advantage and isn’t afraid to poke fun at himself.

Smart is big. You want to be a smart man. Smart does not mean intellectual. Often the most intellectual people aren’t very smart. Smart, to me, means clever. Well educated. Aware. People who are exceptional in their given field but who are also clued in to the rest of the world. You should have a working knowledge of many areas of life. You might not care about sports (that would be me) but you should know the names of at least 6-10 teams in each league. You should know the names of major sports stars of the day and you should have a working knowledge of how the games are played/scored. (Unless it’s cricket. I don’t get that game.) You may not be a business guy but you should at least comprehend the stock market and interest rates (I plan on putting you in classes for this since this a problematic department for me). Fashion might not be your thing but you should be able to name at least 8 designers and know how to dress yourself so you don’t look like a douche. You may be ambivalent about entertainment (almost impossible growing up in this house) but you should know certain actors, bands, author’s names. I don’t watch reality television but I could have a relatively interesting conversation on the topic. You have to be aware. It’s not enough to say, “I’m a guy. I don’t know about that stuff” or “I’m too busy to watch the news.” Get a clue. Life is happening. Not just your life. Be part of it. There’s nothing duller than a man who knows infinite amounts about only one topic.

Attractive is totally subjective and on the surface might seem shallow or irrelevant. At the end of the day you will be attracted to who you are attracted to and vice versa. It’s a lot of chemistry that is sometimes unexplainable.

Ready in 5 minutes but the man is not afraid of a few accessories.

When I talk about begin attractive I am really talking about taking care of yourself. You’re going to look how you’re going to look. Currently things are looking good and I’m not going to lie, the world is kinder to attractive people. It’s a sad but true fact. What I’m talking about though is taking pride in how you look. Working out. Staying in shape. Respecting your body for what it can do, but also for how good it can look if you put some effort in. I’m talking about showering and smelling good. I’m going to insist on deodorant – preferably non-aluminum. Musky is nice. Too much musky is rank. Get a cool haircut. Put product in or don’t. Have nice nails and non-Hobbit like feet. Avoid sketchy facial hair. Care, within reason, about your clothes. Don’t be too cool to dress up. Be respectful of where you’re going. You can still be manly if you make an effort. Just don’t get prissy about it. Men that take longer than women to get dressed are unattractive no matter how handsome they are. And that’s the long and the short of it, isn’t it? Attractiveness has a whole lot to do with attitude. You don’t have to be the best looking to be attractive. You have to be at ease in your skin. Confident with yourself. And those things are easier to do if you smell and look nice.

Powerful is one of those things I still find attractive but one that no longer makes my top 5. Powerful men are sexy. Powerful men are attractive. Powerful men get things done. And getting things done – being someone who delivers – is a palpable trait. It’s hard not to be attracted to power. It’s addictive. But it can also be hard. It can be vain. It can be short sighted. You want to be someone who gets s#^* done but you don’t want to be rude about it. I’d call it quietly powerful. Don’t ever be afraid to ask for what you want. To let someone know if they let you down. To send a steak back if it’s cooked all wrong or to tell a manager if there’s a problem. Stand up for what you know is right. Stick to your guns. Practice the art of persuasion and learn how to get what you want without being a d*^#. As your Granddad always said, be diplomatic. It’s power…with class.

And though power has it’s place, it’s Kindness that has replaced it on my list. In many ways, kindness has moved right to the top. It took me years to figure this out so I’ll let you know that some women, particularly young women, might not have any idea this is a key quality. They still like bad boys. The men that keep them guessing. The men that treat them like dirt. I understand this phenomenon as, for a time, I was that girl. It wasn’t until much later that I realized love wasn’t supposed to be that much work. It wasn’t supposed to cause me so much pain. That having someone be nice to me was lovely and I deserved it. You deserve it too. Pick kind people to be around if you can help it. Be kind to others. Be empathetic. Think about how what you do or say might affect someone else. I’m not advocating doormat behavior or being the “nice guy”. I’m just saying be a nice guy. Be someone people can count on. Which leads me to…

Honorable. An old word but an exceptional trait. You want to be the kind of man that people trust. That people can trust in. The kind of man that gives his word and follows through. The world has become very wishy washy in the honor department. It’s a trade up world. A world where people don’t think twice about selling out to get ahead. Money is king in modern day America and for that honor has taken a real back seat. I think it’s a real compliment to be referred to as a stand up guy. A gentleman. It speaks to a world of principles that are almost lost to us. And with honor comes…

Loyalty. Real men are loyal. To their friends. To their morals. To their wives. Enough said.

Other things I’d like to see my boy learn on his way to manhood:

Learn to Dance – I’d probably steer you away from competitive dancing, but dancing in general is a phenomenal skill for a man to have. The man that can dance is a real catch. If you can dance to popular music that’s a bonus but learn couple dancing too. Learn to lead. It’s great fun and a terrific way to impress the ladies. P.S. Your dad is awesome at this.

Be Handy – Now this may be impossible as I think it’s more genetic than taught – you’re either handy or your not – but it is my hope, based on the fact that I was quite handy until I met your Dad (who is so handy that I became useless), that you will have some skill in this department. Handy is key. Something is broken? You can fix it. Something needs building? You can build it. I really can’t say enough about this. I remember talking to someone Granny’s age once and she said if she could do it all over again she’d marry someone handy. First quality. I laughed because I grew up with your Granddad who is gifted in so many areas but handy is not one of them. When I married Sean it was such a pleasure to not have to call someone for every little thing. This summer, after 2 engineers, 1 architect and 2 business men tried to put together your swing set at the cottage, your Dad arrived and got it done in 1 day. One day. Get the tools and learn from your Dad. Everyone will be grateful you did.

Change a tire – I am the worst feminist for admitting this, but there are still some things I like a man to do. Changing a tire is one of them. I know I should learn but I still don’t know how. Pathetic but true. But as a man, you better know. My sexism also extends to…

BBQ  – I have a hard time thinking of a man as a man if he doesn’t know how to barbecue. Really dude?! You can’t grill a burger? Not cool.

Pay your own bills – A tough one because sometimes it’s easier said than done, but I feel it’s hard to consider a man a real man if he can’t pay his own bills. You don’t necessarily have to be the provider (sole or otherwise) but you can’t have your girl or your parents or your boyfriend always pick up your tab. We don’t want no scrubs.

Develop Manners – Look people in the eye when you shake hands. Be appreciative. Open doors for people – not just women – people. (Though you should help women on and off with their coats and offer your jacket to a cold girl.) Respect your elders and your juniors. Be polite to waiters and people serving or helping you. And apologize when you’re wrong. The world opens to people with manners. A real man knows that, but would have done it anyway.

Play at least one sport (video games don’t count) – I don’t care if it’s golf, football or anything in between. Sports and men kinda go together. It breeds camaraderie. It bolsters healthy competition. It keeps you fit and it gets you outside. It also helps you shape up to…

Lift heavy things or at least open jars – Please don’t be the guy that can’t open a jar. I don’t want you to be a meat head but at least have enough physical strength to help a friend move or open a new jam.

Finally, Listen – Men are notoriously bad at this. Work against that. Pay attention when people say things. Especially special people in your life. The man that brings you peonies because you said they were your favorite flower, is a man you keep. Try not to be the guy who brings the generic roses with the baby’s breath from the deli.

Here’s the thing: Your Dad was an Eagle Boy Scout. He can make a fire with no match. He can find his way out of the forest with no compass. He can shoot accurately with multiple guns, a cross bow and a bow & arrow. He’s white water rafted and jumped out of a plane. He played football in high school and is now into competitive paintball. He’s a man’s man and you’ll learn multiple skills from him. But he’s also an actor and a dancer and a romantic. He tells a great joke. He knows about wine. He takes pleasure in his appearance. He’s loyal to his friends. He’s a hands-on father. He works his heart out for his career. He remembers my favorite things and puts his family first. He is a loyal, loving man and a person you should be proud to grow up like.

But for goodness sake, avoid being the punk a@# he was in his teens. You blow up an abandoned car and I’ll kill you myself.

xo Mom

Nov 14

10 Comments

Good Night My Angel

Dear Lochie,

You are 3 1/2 and I just left your bedroom where you fell asleep in my arms. You’ve never done that before. Not even when you were a little baby. I hadn’t seen you all day. Mondays are my day to work. Dad takes you for the day. You go to your co-op preschool in the morning (9-12), have a picnic in the park and then go to your other preschool in the afternoon (1-4). I got home from acupuncture and while your Dad prepared dinner (take note, this will make your future wife very happy), we played ‘Winter’ for about 10 minutes. We made “snowmen” and “snow balls” and “snow angels” in our imaginary snow and then we ate. You told me about your day. How you’d played fireman and carwash, and how at your “old school” (the co-op) you now have your own box with your name on it. With such pride you told me. “It’s black on top and grey on the bottom!!”. I know you’re working on books with the other “graduates” that the parents will get at the end of the year. You told me you are getting ready for kindergarden. You don’t understand yet that you are younger than all your friends and still have another year of preschool before you get to kindergarden. It’s ok. It’ll be nice that you are one of the oldest when you start. It’s just too bad that all your friends now will be a grade ahead of you. That’ll matter for a while…

But I’m off topic. After dinner daddy went to work in the office and you and I played ‘Seasons’. We did a highlight from every month and acted it out. October, Daddy’s birthday. November, Thanksgiving/raking and throwing leaves. December, Christmas!!! January, New Years. February, Lochie’s Birthday, etc… By the time we were at the cottage in August it was time to brush your teeth. You still don’t dig our grown up toothpaste but your teeth look so much better that I can deal with the complaints. We went to bed. One story became two, two became three, and my insistence that I wasn’t going to snuggle was abandoned when I realized that I WANTED to snuggle. I hadn’t seen you all day! I got my iPhone and played you some quiet songs. We’d never done that before and I think we both loved it. You took my arm and wrapped it around you and that was it. You just drifted off to sleep. I could smell your just showered head of hair which is somehow already messed up. I could feel your little ribs going up and down. Your tiny lips were on the back of my hand as you’d given it a kiss when you wrapped my arm around you, and I just didn’t want to move. Often when we snuggle I go to get up and you say “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave”. Because I’m sick I always read into that. I know in my head that you are just a kid wanting his mom to stay, but my fear sometimes gets the best of me and I think maybe you’re a sage, and because of your purity you know something I don’t. I worry that I am going somewhere and you are asking me not to.

I promise you this Loch. If I can help it, I am staying. I love my life. I love you and Daddy. I love the sun and the water and the cottage and my parents and our family. I love traveling. I love going out to dinner. I love Christmas and my birthday. I love your birthday. I love the sound of your voice and being in your daddy’s arms. I love laughing and being with friends. I love alone time and reading. I even love television and shopping. I love being alive. I want so much to live. Selfishly though, I want to live as me. Not as some marginalized version of myself. I know I can’t do all I would like anymore, and even precious young you knows I have “bad lungs”, but I am still me. I don’t have to deal with so much that people who have PH have to deal with. I have no oxygen tank. I have no heart cathitar. I look, for all intensive purposes, normal and healthy. But I’m greedy. I want to stay like that. I want my life AND I want to recognize the person in the mirror.

I want you to know me as I am now. I hope you do. I want you to know that I love swinging you around and giving you piggy backs and being your “horse”. I wish I could do it more. I love being with you and making up games and voices and songs. I can’t stop kissing and hugging you and I’ve already taught you that three hand squeezes means “I. Love. You.”. I love being your mom. You are the center of my universe. If I do get sicker you won’t know this version of me and that scares me. If I should die you’re too young to really remember me at all and that devastates me. I don’t want to be just a picture in a frame.

It’s not fair Loch. It’s not fair your mom’s sick. But I’m grateful. So grateful to have this time with you. Every day is a blessing. I know that in my head even though it’s often hard to see through the sadness in my heart or the anger in my gut. Every day I have is a gift and I’m doing my best not to squander it. I’m still someone who cares about my weight and yells at automated systems. I’m not perfect or calm or zen. I do, however, have perspective on the frailty of life that gives me clarity on what’s important.

Try and get that perspective in your life without the sick part. Focus on what’s really significant. Spend the time with those you love. Send cards on people’s birthdays. Contact friends you’re thinking of. Be positive when it’s easier to be negative. Try as hard as you can to really live without taking unnecessary chances with your life. Make smart choices. Life is amazing. Respect it.

And if your child one day wants you to stay in bed with him until he falls asleep, even if you know it’s probably better if you stick to the rules… Do it. It’s worth it.

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” – Oscar Wilde

I love you.

xo Mom

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