First off, let me start with asking those out there that are older than me not to marginalize this entry. I know that there are plenty of friends and family members who are going to read this entry and roll their eyes because they have 10-30 years on me but I would ask that you suspend time for a moment, lock your eyeballs to the screen and resist the eye-rolling temptation.
Many of my facebook friends are turning 30 - and I will be joining the 30-something club in 3 months.
There is a portion of me that looks back on the last ten years and thinks "wow - that didn't go by too quickly. Cool." I look back on my freshman year of college, my marriage, Olivia's arrival, and a few jobs along the way with admiration and happiness and think: "Cool".
When you break it down, your twenties bring with them SO much growth and development. We move from being insecure teenages to competent adults. You figure out WHO you are, even if it's only to realize that (mostly) you are exactly who you were in High School with more experience under your belt... at least that's what happened to me. I spent my college years mostly trying to reidentify myself only to realize that I was really quite happy as who I was in HS personality-wise.
But every once in a while I get an email from friends who sign their emails "Mr and Mrs So-and-so" and I realize... "this is it"... we are getting married and having kids and buying houses and paying bills like grown-ups.
The early twenty-something inside me screams "but wait! We were just going through college orientation a few days ago!"... but the reality is - it was 10 years ago.
Don't get me wrong - I love the freedom that comes with being an adult. I love making "adult money" and living like a grown-up - but there is still a big portion of me that realizes this is it. There is no going to prom again, no doing HS musicals again, no staying out till three in the morning with friends at the diner, there's no pep band games (and learning how to play an instrument by watching the kid next to me), there's no last-minute midnight trips to NYC, there's no taking last-minute vacations.
It isn't so much that I am not happy about all these things - there is a lot more peace and quiet in life at this age (even with a two year old ... I am no longer running around like a chicken with its head cut off - overcommitted up to my eyeballs) but it's a little bit of mourning.
And yes, we are "young at heart" but it doesn't turn the clock back. It doesn't give you the chance to take all the wisdom you have gained over the past ten years and allow you to go to Rutgers University a second time - enjoy it as much as you did the first time AND pass all your classes with flying colors becuase you are responsible enough now.
It is, indeed, Olivia's turn - and I will encourage her to partake of everything in life and be sure to soak it all in becuase it goes so quickly - but I will not live vicariously through her because that's not what parents are here for.
So happy birthday to all my friends out there - welcome to the "married with kids" club! I will be forming a support group - signups start now.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
The vocabulary of a nearly-two-year-old...
What fascinates me most about the 22-month-old vocabulary of my daughter is the remarkable way that she can, somehow, take a very small set of words and translate it into many meanings. This week's entry is an ode to her limited word bank and endless interpretations:
"Pug-ah": I couldn't tell you why or how, but somehow my daughter has established that JACKET is pronounced "Pug-ah". She can put a question mark at the end of it ("Pug-ah?") and in doing so she is asking "Can I have this jacket?". By putting an exclamation point at the end of it, she is saying "TAKE OFF THIS JACKET!" We have no idea where she got "pug-ah" from. It started with her yanking on her zipper and proclaiming "pug-ah!". When we didn't figure it out fast enough, she proceeded to hit herself in the chest where the zipper was, then pull at the zipper again before sweetly asking "Pug-ah?" So, as best we can figure, she means "jacket".
"Puppy": This is an obvious one. Puppy means the two dogs we have running around the house. Sometimes said with her ear tucked to her shoulder, when she drags it out she is saying "awwwww puppy.....". When she is excited to see them, she yells (loudly)"PUPPY!!!" and when she wholly entertained by them, "PUPPYYYY!!!!" is preceded by the most ear-splitting, blood-curtling scream you could imagine.
"Cocks": Yes. Cocks. This is how Olivia says socks. She knows that there is an "S" sound in there somewhere but doesn't know how we are doing it. Inevitably, her experimentation with this word is in the "cks" part where she sometimes connects her soft palate and tries to say "cks" the way that Jeff Dunham spells Achmed the Dead Terrorists name: "A-c----chhhhhhhhhhh.....", so what comes out is "cocccchhhhhhhhhs". Still not accurate. Still not appropriate in mixed company. Still not something I would want her yelling in a mall.
"Cager": This is "Cracker". While she can pronounce the "ck" in "sock" ("cock") it is somehow elusive in "Cracker". This is something that she says from the moment she gets downstairs, an repeats like a skipping record until I go into the pantry and get her a graham cracker. "Cager" can be used to describe animal crackers, ritz crackers, graham crackers, or saltines. Most of the time she puts a question mark at the end: "Can I have a cracker"; other times he states it "You will give me a cracker.... now."
"Bup": This is a new one. My daughter is obsessed with dipping food into sauces. Mostly, she will dip anything - and I do mean ANYTHING - into ketchup. Let me tell you, there is a certain gag-factor to most of the things she dips into ketchup because, truly, there are no limits. Greenbeans, animal crackers, bread, chicken, sausage, fries, hotdogs, beef, pasta, saltines, ham, cheese. Usually the way this will go is tha she will sit in her high chair, have a half a bite of something, and then decide that she will not eat one more bite until she can dip it in something. Quizzically, she will look up form her food, push her pointer finger on to her plate, and pronounce: "Bup?". What's that, Olivia? You want "DIPPP"... at this point she will stick her tongue out just in front her of her lower lip and say: "Bup!"
"Bat": "Olivia, you want a BATH?" Olivia: BAT!!!! Us: "Ok - get Piggy. Get Nuk! Com'mon" Olivia: runs around the room searching for Piggy. "PIGGY!!!" runs around the room searching for Nuk. "GUCK!" and then proceeds to run as fast as she can to her bedroom where she throws Piggy into her crib and then starts pulling her clothes off (putting them in the hamper!) and then grabs her towel "COW" and running into the bathroom.
"Gacky": Jackie - our oldest dog.
"Beah": Bear - Erica's (her daycare provider) dog
"Baidy": Bailey - our younger dog.
"Meeeeow": Caighlyn, our cat.
"Hep": "Help". This can be done either "Hep?" - as in "can you please help me?" or "Hep!" as in "I want to help you!"
"Pee": Please. She learned the sign for "please", too, but rather than taking her hand in small circles on her chest, she will take her hand and brush her finger tips from the center of her chest toward her armpit and the same time that she begs for something "Pee? Pee? Pee? Pee?"
"PeePee/PooPoo": ANYTHING in her diaper. It's actually kinda nice that she alerts us when she is messy... let's us know what we are walking into.
"Yea": "Yes" - as in "no, Olivia, we aren't going to take off our pants and diaper in the middle of the room" - "yea. yea." *head nods repeatedly*
"Ni Ni": "Night night" and one of my favorites. For the first time, Olivia is starting to put together little sentences. The other night, while she was in the tub getting her bath, I said "Ok, Bebo. I love you. Night Night Bebo" - and my daughter sweetly looked up, naked and wet, and said "Ni Ni Mama". I about died. Well, I nearly jumped in the tub with her to hug her and kiss her... then I about died. She uses "Ni Ni" when she is tired and wants a nap or if she is ready for bed.
"Pooosh": "Push" - this means that she wants to turn the tv on or off. Usually, right before bedtime or when we first get into her play room - "Poooosh".
"Bu-EEEE": code for "bunny". She will make "Bu-EEEE" dance in her carseat while she listens to the radio in the car and will proclaim "BU-EEE" she she drops him by accident.
Among her "perfect" words: Mama, Daddy, Bebo (her nickname) and Juice.
But there is NOTHING more endearing than "PIGGY". A gift from Josh's Aunt Janice, Piggy is Olivia's companion item. She travels everywhere with Piggy. She sleeps with Piggy. She rubs piggy's ears when she is tired. She eats with him, travels with him and takes him EVERYWHERE. The word "Piggy" has been used in probably 30 different tones. She says it sadly and pouts (its heartbreaking) - "Piggggggy" :(, she says it happily and with joy "PIGGY!", she says it with love "Piiiiiiigggggyyyyy", she says it as though Piggy broke her heart in a little tiny voice - "p.i.g.g.y."... Piggy has brought Olivia comfort and stability when she has felt nervous and unsure. Piggy has let us see the range of emotions our daughter has to offer in her very young life and we are already wondering what we will need to do to keep Piggy in shape for as long as Piggy has a place in Olivia's heart... but piggy will always hold a place in ours - he has been there for Olivia when we couldn't be and has seen all of Olivia's adventures. One day she will run off without him and leave her little-girl life behind, but we will hold on to Piggy as a reminder of this amazing chapter - the chapter in which our daughter rarely pronounced anything correctly but entertained us for hours and expressed every emotion she had using only a handful of words; a time when first started enjoying communicating with our very happy little girl.
"Pug-ah": I couldn't tell you why or how, but somehow my daughter has established that JACKET is pronounced "Pug-ah". She can put a question mark at the end of it ("Pug-ah?") and in doing so she is asking "Can I have this jacket?". By putting an exclamation point at the end of it, she is saying "TAKE OFF THIS JACKET!" We have no idea where she got "pug-ah" from. It started with her yanking on her zipper and proclaiming "pug-ah!". When we didn't figure it out fast enough, she proceeded to hit herself in the chest where the zipper was, then pull at the zipper again before sweetly asking "Pug-ah?" So, as best we can figure, she means "jacket".
"Puppy": This is an obvious one. Puppy means the two dogs we have running around the house. Sometimes said with her ear tucked to her shoulder, when she drags it out she is saying "awwwww puppy.....". When she is excited to see them, she yells (loudly)"PUPPY!!!" and when she wholly entertained by them, "PUPPYYYY!!!!" is preceded by the most ear-splitting, blood-curtling scream you could imagine.
"Cocks": Yes. Cocks. This is how Olivia says socks. She knows that there is an "S" sound in there somewhere but doesn't know how we are doing it. Inevitably, her experimentation with this word is in the "cks" part where she sometimes connects her soft palate and tries to say "cks" the way that Jeff Dunham spells Achmed the Dead Terrorists name: "A-c----chhhhhhhhhhh.....", so what comes out is "cocccchhhhhhhhhs". Still not accurate. Still not appropriate in mixed company. Still not something I would want her yelling in a mall.
"Cager": This is "Cracker". While she can pronounce the "ck" in "sock" ("cock") it is somehow elusive in "Cracker". This is something that she says from the moment she gets downstairs, an repeats like a skipping record until I go into the pantry and get her a graham cracker. "Cager" can be used to describe animal crackers, ritz crackers, graham crackers, or saltines. Most of the time she puts a question mark at the end: "Can I have a cracker"; other times he states it "You will give me a cracker.... now."
"Bup": This is a new one. My daughter is obsessed with dipping food into sauces. Mostly, she will dip anything - and I do mean ANYTHING - into ketchup. Let me tell you, there is a certain gag-factor to most of the things she dips into ketchup because, truly, there are no limits. Greenbeans, animal crackers, bread, chicken, sausage, fries, hotdogs, beef, pasta, saltines, ham, cheese. Usually the way this will go is tha she will sit in her high chair, have a half a bite of something, and then decide that she will not eat one more bite until she can dip it in something. Quizzically, she will look up form her food, push her pointer finger on to her plate, and pronounce: "Bup?". What's that, Olivia? You want "DIPPP"... at this point she will stick her tongue out just in front her of her lower lip and say: "Bup!"
"Bat": "Olivia, you want a BATH?" Olivia: BAT!!!! Us: "Ok - get Piggy. Get Nuk! Com'mon" Olivia: runs around the room searching for Piggy. "PIGGY!!!" runs around the room searching for Nuk. "GUCK!" and then proceeds to run as fast as she can to her bedroom where she throws Piggy into her crib and then starts pulling her clothes off (putting them in the hamper!) and then grabs her towel "COW" and running into the bathroom.
"Gacky": Jackie - our oldest dog.
"Beah": Bear - Erica's (her daycare provider) dog
"Baidy": Bailey - our younger dog.
"Meeeeow": Caighlyn, our cat.
"Hep": "Help". This can be done either "Hep?" - as in "can you please help me?" or "Hep!" as in "I want to help you!"
"Pee": Please. She learned the sign for "please", too, but rather than taking her hand in small circles on her chest, she will take her hand and brush her finger tips from the center of her chest toward her armpit and the same time that she begs for something "Pee? Pee? Pee? Pee?"
"PeePee/PooPoo": ANYTHING in her diaper. It's actually kinda nice that she alerts us when she is messy... let's us know what we are walking into.
"Yea": "Yes" - as in "no, Olivia, we aren't going to take off our pants and diaper in the middle of the room" - "yea. yea." *head nods repeatedly*
"Ni Ni": "Night night" and one of my favorites. For the first time, Olivia is starting to put together little sentences. The other night, while she was in the tub getting her bath, I said "Ok, Bebo. I love you. Night Night Bebo" - and my daughter sweetly looked up, naked and wet, and said "Ni Ni Mama". I about died. Well, I nearly jumped in the tub with her to hug her and kiss her... then I about died. She uses "Ni Ni" when she is tired and wants a nap or if she is ready for bed.
"Pooosh": "Push" - this means that she wants to turn the tv on or off. Usually, right before bedtime or when we first get into her play room - "Poooosh".
"Bu-EEEE": code for "bunny". She will make "Bu-EEEE" dance in her carseat while she listens to the radio in the car and will proclaim "BU-EEE" she she drops him by accident.
Among her "perfect" words: Mama, Daddy, Bebo (her nickname) and Juice.
But there is NOTHING more endearing than "PIGGY". A gift from Josh's Aunt Janice, Piggy is Olivia's companion item. She travels everywhere with Piggy. She sleeps with Piggy. She rubs piggy's ears when she is tired. She eats with him, travels with him and takes him EVERYWHERE. The word "Piggy" has been used in probably 30 different tones. She says it sadly and pouts (its heartbreaking) - "Piggggggy" :(, she says it happily and with joy "PIGGY!", she says it with love "Piiiiiiigggggyyyyy", she says it as though Piggy broke her heart in a little tiny voice - "p.i.g.g.y."... Piggy has brought Olivia comfort and stability when she has felt nervous and unsure. Piggy has let us see the range of emotions our daughter has to offer in her very young life and we are already wondering what we will need to do to keep Piggy in shape for as long as Piggy has a place in Olivia's heart... but piggy will always hold a place in ours - he has been there for Olivia when we couldn't be and has seen all of Olivia's adventures. One day she will run off without him and leave her little-girl life behind, but we will hold on to Piggy as a reminder of this amazing chapter - the chapter in which our daughter rarely pronounced anything correctly but entertained us for hours and expressed every emotion she had using only a handful of words; a time when first started enjoying communicating with our very happy little girl.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Dream a Little Dream
When I was 21, I came to a crossroads.
I had managed to negotiate a $12 an hour salary at a Salon and Spa in Bridgewater, NJ and was thinking I was hot shit. This was, after all, the biggest salary I had ever managed to score for myself. (For those with an interest: Kinsley's Market - $4.75 p/h, Burger King - $5.15 p/h, NYSE Specialist firm - about $11.00 p/h, NYC Temp - $10-12 p/h, Salon Receptionist - $9.00 p/h, Starbucks Shift Lead - $9.50ish an hour, Salon MANAGER - $12 p/h).
The crossroads of which I speak was this: Do I go back to school and finish my education or do I take the money while its being offered. I took the money. Afterall, many of my friends were graduating school at that time and were going on to do - well - nothing. They were having a hard time finding work and having an even harder time finding work in the fields for which they went to school.
So, off I went into the land of responsibility.
Eight years later I don't regret it. I have been able to put together a diverse little resume I am pretty proud of. I have a great career (at least I think so) and "it's all good".
But, in the moments where I daydream - if money were no object, there are definately careers/businesses I would have gone into if I had been given the opportunity. So, this blog entry is my little ode to the things I wish I had done, or, perhaps, aim to accomplish before the end of my days.
1) Salon Owner. Back in my Salon Management days I fell in love with hair and with the salon industry. It was my plan to go to cosmetology school and I had already secured a job as an assistant at an AWESOME Salon in Chester, NJ. In my mind's eye, I can see every single detail of the salon I would own and I have learned enough, at this point, to feel that I could confidently run that business successfully. Still thinking of a name, though. Any ideas?
And for the record: It would, of course, be in NJ.
2) Bridal Salon. When I was planning my wedding, the hardest part of the planning was running all over town to try and find the right vendor for me. I used to have this rediculously incredible vision of a Bridal Salon. Think of Kleinfeld's Bridal ("Say Yes to the Dress") - now imagine if there was a consierge service at the salon offering excellent, highly recommended vendors. Everything from hair and makeup, Wedding Planners, photographers, DJs and Limos. All of it. The consierge's job would be to find the best of the best in NJ (even up-and-commers!) and negotiate a mutually benificial arrangement for referrals/bookings. This person would personally vet each and every vendor that the salon recommended. Just like a consierge at a 5-Star Hotel.
And, of course, there would be the dresses. It's a hard sales-driven business, but I just LOVE them. I can't help it.
3) Wedding Planner. (Are you noticing a trend here?) It has become glaringly obvious to me that event planning and project management is a skill that does not easily come to some people. It happens to be a very big strength of mine. There is nothing better than taking someone's vision (and their budget) and translating their wedding day into a reality. YES, it isn't a perfect job. YES, it comes with its challenges. YES, it comes with crazy people and NO, you cannot convince everyone that your taste is the end-all-be-all of how to decorate a wedding. During my wedding planning, I had the fortune to act as planner, hair dresser, makeup artist, photographer, singer, decorator and contractor at about 50 different weddings in NJ... it. was. awesome. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
All in all, I realize that these dreams of mine are completely achievable - it's just a matter of planning and execution. But, it's fun to share....
I had managed to negotiate a $12 an hour salary at a Salon and Spa in Bridgewater, NJ and was thinking I was hot shit. This was, after all, the biggest salary I had ever managed to score for myself. (For those with an interest: Kinsley's Market - $4.75 p/h, Burger King - $5.15 p/h, NYSE Specialist firm - about $11.00 p/h, NYC Temp - $10-12 p/h, Salon Receptionist - $9.00 p/h, Starbucks Shift Lead - $9.50ish an hour, Salon MANAGER - $12 p/h).
The crossroads of which I speak was this: Do I go back to school and finish my education or do I take the money while its being offered. I took the money. Afterall, many of my friends were graduating school at that time and were going on to do - well - nothing. They were having a hard time finding work and having an even harder time finding work in the fields for which they went to school.
So, off I went into the land of responsibility.
Eight years later I don't regret it. I have been able to put together a diverse little resume I am pretty proud of. I have a great career (at least I think so) and "it's all good".
But, in the moments where I daydream - if money were no object, there are definately careers/businesses I would have gone into if I had been given the opportunity. So, this blog entry is my little ode to the things I wish I had done, or, perhaps, aim to accomplish before the end of my days.
1) Salon Owner. Back in my Salon Management days I fell in love with hair and with the salon industry. It was my plan to go to cosmetology school and I had already secured a job as an assistant at an AWESOME Salon in Chester, NJ. In my mind's eye, I can see every single detail of the salon I would own and I have learned enough, at this point, to feel that I could confidently run that business successfully. Still thinking of a name, though. Any ideas?
And for the record: It would, of course, be in NJ.
2) Bridal Salon. When I was planning my wedding, the hardest part of the planning was running all over town to try and find the right vendor for me. I used to have this rediculously incredible vision of a Bridal Salon. Think of Kleinfeld's Bridal ("Say Yes to the Dress") - now imagine if there was a consierge service at the salon offering excellent, highly recommended vendors. Everything from hair and makeup, Wedding Planners, photographers, DJs and Limos. All of it. The consierge's job would be to find the best of the best in NJ (even up-and-commers!) and negotiate a mutually benificial arrangement for referrals/bookings. This person would personally vet each and every vendor that the salon recommended. Just like a consierge at a 5-Star Hotel.
And, of course, there would be the dresses. It's a hard sales-driven business, but I just LOVE them. I can't help it.
3) Wedding Planner. (Are you noticing a trend here?) It has become glaringly obvious to me that event planning and project management is a skill that does not easily come to some people. It happens to be a very big strength of mine. There is nothing better than taking someone's vision (and their budget) and translating their wedding day into a reality. YES, it isn't a perfect job. YES, it comes with its challenges. YES, it comes with crazy people and NO, you cannot convince everyone that your taste is the end-all-be-all of how to decorate a wedding. During my wedding planning, I had the fortune to act as planner, hair dresser, makeup artist, photographer, singer, decorator and contractor at about 50 different weddings in NJ... it. was. awesome. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
All in all, I realize that these dreams of mine are completely achievable - it's just a matter of planning and execution. But, it's fun to share....
Monday, January 31, 2011
Life's Full of Tough Choices -- In't It...
I decided to tap into my "Ursula" from the Little Mermaid today and draw inspiration from a few of my friends who are going through some tough times as mommies.
It has almost become a cliche for mothers to say "there is nothing tougher in this world than being a mother"... but to all my non-mommy friends out there who read this blog let me just tell you - IT ISN'T some bullshit made up by some mommy friend who was having a bad day and doesn't feel appreciated. If you don't believe me, close my blog and come back when you have kids.
Carrying a baby in your belly, birthing it, and then holding yourself responsible for it for the rest of your natural life is the single hardest thing on the face of this earth. You carry and nurture the baby when its growing inside you. When its born, it is rarely soothed by anyone other than you. When they are toddlers, they will attach to you and seek your approval in everything and look for comfort from you even when you are the one correcting them or denying them something.
What we accept as our responsibility the moment we elect to carry a pregnancy to term is to put these people in our lives above ALL else. Above ourselves, our families, our friends, our jobs, our hobbies. Everything. The things you love, the passions you have, the little things that are yours and yours alone dissolve the moment you hear a heartbeat and you assume responsibility for the LIFE of another person.
YOU are responsible for their development. YOU are responsible for encouraging them to do everything from taking their first steps to learning how to swallow solid food for the first time (let me tell you, it's a bit traumatic... they don't tell you that babies will usually gag on it because - well - um - they've never done it before) to brushing their hair and dressing themselves and learning letters and numbers and ALL of the things that you take for granted as an adult. YOU are responsible for showering them with love and helping them grow as a person and backing them even when they are wrong.
You are the one teaching them to make responsible choices and how to take responsibility when they make the wrong ones. For many of us - its the FIRST time we will have truly had to think about someone else OTHER than ourselves. We will dive headfirst into baby poop, we will scoop up our little ones covered in vomit without thinking twice to comfort them. We will disregard ourselves or our well being to make life possible for them.
THIS is what you signed on for as parents when you carried your baby to term.
So let's think, for a second, about the things that you LOST as an individual. No. Seriously. You lost your body (except in my case... somehow having a baby changed the shape of my body for the better). You lost your sleep. You lost some friendships (I am sure). You lost your Independence. You lost your hobbies. You lost your favorite drinks. Etc. Etc. Etc. SERIOUSLY - think about what you have given for your kids already. THINK about the fact that you will continue to lose things for the next however-many-years until they begin their own life...
IS IT WORTH IT?
Of course it is. (And btw if your answer was "no", there is a firehouse that will gladly accept your child and happily find it parents who love it - or call me. I'll take your kid.)
So we have established the things that you gave up and determined that its "worth it" so here is my next question - Are there things in your life which are a threat to your dream/goal of raising your child/children? Are there abusive relationships? Substance abuse? Financial irresponsibilities? Sexual promiscuity?
Keeping these things in your life threatens the plan you have for your kids. Our kids deserve to enjoy their childhood. Our kids have enough to cope with growing up without their parents adding crap into the mix. Sit down and really think to yourself: "Am I providing an environment for my children which will give them the best opportunity to succeed? Am I providing an environment where they can grow and laugh and love and learn the right things about people and relationships? Or am I raising them in an environment where they learn bad habits, bad manners, abuse of ANY sort, and dysfunctional relationships?"
Did you give up your body, your passions, your hobbies, your friends, your Independence for dysfunction???? Because a few seconds ago you said that you gave it up for your kids.
This isn't about us, anymore. It's not about what's easy. It's not about what we would have done as people before we had kids. Life is hard - and our lives are now harder because we are responsible - RESPONSIBLE - for the LIFE of our children.
Here's a "proof" for you: 1. Mom's are superheros. 2. Superman is a superhero. 3. Superman is made weak by Kryptonite. 4. Superman will sooner allow himself to drown in Kryptonite than to allow Lois Lane to drown. 5. Saving Lois is a lot easier when the pool isn't loaded with Kryptonite.
That's right - I'm using a comic book reference people. Sue me. I like Superman. (Not to mention a bad mathematical reference which was executed POORLY. I nearly failed algebra and never did well in geometry so, there ya go.)
Find the Kryptonite - eradicate it - and save your kids. Parenting will never be easy - we at least owe it to ourselves (and our kids) to eliminate the things in life which make it even harder.
And to all my friends out there who are not "where they thought they'd be right now" - none of us are - we just all have our own flavors of it. To all my friends out there waiting for the situation to change - it won't. Change happens when an outside force causes the change to happen - so it's up to you to start the change.
We're all in this together - and we're in good company.
Thanks to all of you for putting up with my bad analogy. I considered taking it out but it even makes me raise my own eyebrow at myself and snicker for it's stupidity so... it stays.
It has almost become a cliche for mothers to say "there is nothing tougher in this world than being a mother"... but to all my non-mommy friends out there who read this blog let me just tell you - IT ISN'T some bullshit made up by some mommy friend who was having a bad day and doesn't feel appreciated. If you don't believe me, close my blog and come back when you have kids.
Carrying a baby in your belly, birthing it, and then holding yourself responsible for it for the rest of your natural life is the single hardest thing on the face of this earth. You carry and nurture the baby when its growing inside you. When its born, it is rarely soothed by anyone other than you. When they are toddlers, they will attach to you and seek your approval in everything and look for comfort from you even when you are the one correcting them or denying them something.
What we accept as our responsibility the moment we elect to carry a pregnancy to term is to put these people in our lives above ALL else. Above ourselves, our families, our friends, our jobs, our hobbies. Everything. The things you love, the passions you have, the little things that are yours and yours alone dissolve the moment you hear a heartbeat and you assume responsibility for the LIFE of another person.
YOU are responsible for their development. YOU are responsible for encouraging them to do everything from taking their first steps to learning how to swallow solid food for the first time (let me tell you, it's a bit traumatic... they don't tell you that babies will usually gag on it because - well - um - they've never done it before) to brushing their hair and dressing themselves and learning letters and numbers and ALL of the things that you take for granted as an adult. YOU are responsible for showering them with love and helping them grow as a person and backing them even when they are wrong.
You are the one teaching them to make responsible choices and how to take responsibility when they make the wrong ones. For many of us - its the FIRST time we will have truly had to think about someone else OTHER than ourselves. We will dive headfirst into baby poop, we will scoop up our little ones covered in vomit without thinking twice to comfort them. We will disregard ourselves or our well being to make life possible for them.
THIS is what you signed on for as parents when you carried your baby to term.
So let's think, for a second, about the things that you LOST as an individual. No. Seriously. You lost your body (except in my case... somehow having a baby changed the shape of my body for the better). You lost your sleep. You lost some friendships (I am sure). You lost your Independence. You lost your hobbies. You lost your favorite drinks. Etc. Etc. Etc. SERIOUSLY - think about what you have given for your kids already. THINK about the fact that you will continue to lose things for the next however-many-years until they begin their own life...
IS IT WORTH IT?
Of course it is. (And btw if your answer was "no", there is a firehouse that will gladly accept your child and happily find it parents who love it - or call me. I'll take your kid.)
So we have established the things that you gave up and determined that its "worth it" so here is my next question - Are there things in your life which are a threat to your dream/goal of raising your child/children? Are there abusive relationships? Substance abuse? Financial irresponsibilities? Sexual promiscuity?
Keeping these things in your life threatens the plan you have for your kids. Our kids deserve to enjoy their childhood. Our kids have enough to cope with growing up without their parents adding crap into the mix. Sit down and really think to yourself: "Am I providing an environment for my children which will give them the best opportunity to succeed? Am I providing an environment where they can grow and laugh and love and learn the right things about people and relationships? Or am I raising them in an environment where they learn bad habits, bad manners, abuse of ANY sort, and dysfunctional relationships?"
Did you give up your body, your passions, your hobbies, your friends, your Independence for dysfunction???? Because a few seconds ago you said that you gave it up for your kids.
This isn't about us, anymore. It's not about what's easy. It's not about what we would have done as people before we had kids. Life is hard - and our lives are now harder because we are responsible - RESPONSIBLE - for the LIFE of our children.
Here's a "proof" for you: 1. Mom's are superheros. 2. Superman is a superhero. 3. Superman is made weak by Kryptonite. 4. Superman will sooner allow himself to drown in Kryptonite than to allow Lois Lane to drown. 5. Saving Lois is a lot easier when the pool isn't loaded with Kryptonite.
That's right - I'm using a comic book reference people. Sue me. I like Superman. (Not to mention a bad mathematical reference which was executed POORLY. I nearly failed algebra and never did well in geometry so, there ya go.)
Find the Kryptonite - eradicate it - and save your kids. Parenting will never be easy - we at least owe it to ourselves (and our kids) to eliminate the things in life which make it even harder.
And to all my friends out there who are not "where they thought they'd be right now" - none of us are - we just all have our own flavors of it. To all my friends out there waiting for the situation to change - it won't. Change happens when an outside force causes the change to happen - so it's up to you to start the change.
We're all in this together - and we're in good company.
Thanks to all of you for putting up with my bad analogy. I considered taking it out but it even makes me raise my own eyebrow at myself and snicker for it's stupidity so... it stays.
Monday, January 24, 2011
If you love me and you know it clap your hands *clap clap*
Olivia stood over her activity table, carefully opening and shutting a little door. The table had a pocket in which you could put small treasures and Olivia wasted no time putting her Nuk (pacifier) into the tiny spot and closing the door. She continued to play for another 30 seconds and then revisited this door. She flicked it open, looked inside, and proceeded to get the biggest smile on her face - as if to say "OMG! THAT'S where that went!"
How much do we really watch our kids these days? I don't mean to hawk-eye them and make sure they don't fall off of something steep/narrow/high/etc. I mean the type of "watch" that is meant exclusively for observation.
Our generation of mothers fall into two schools: The Working Mother and the Stay At Home Mother (SAHM). These two classes of women have their own set of challenges. I will write a WHOLE blog entry about the Working Moms and the SAHMs at another time. For now, I want to talk about how both mothers rarely get the option or opportunity to sit and enjoy their children. There is always a list somewhere which needs to be completed and takes priority over quality time with the little one(s).
I say: Fuck the list.
Go ahead - ring my doorbell without calling first. My kitchen will be a mess, my bathroom trashes are full (but no overflowing), the vaccum will have been run inside of the last two weeks, the upstairs playroom will be in dissarray, DO NOT SET FOOT IN MY Master Bedroom (if you please)and there may be laundry still sitting in our dryer from two weeks ago. And you now what? I make NO apologies for it. If you don't like it - you either don't have kids or you aren't my friend. There is no other category. Spending time with Olivia, trying to get her to laugh, kissing her, holding her in my lap while she watches The Freshbeat Band are my BIGGEST priorities. The rest is, frankly, not.
When it's all said and done, I get a total of 5 hours with Olivia during the workweek (not including time driving to and from our daycare providers house). I will spend those five hours the way I want and I do NOT want to be cleaning.
"But Jenn - just do all that stuff after she goes to bed!"
No. She goes to bed at 7pm and now *I* two hours to catch up on "me" time AND "couple time" and I am not willing to spend those 6 hours (or so) a week doing things that don't bring me enjoyment. If you don't like it - well, "go over there".
I posted on Facebook this week that my life BEGAN when Olivia was born. I meant it. I have never been even CLOSE to this happy in my life. So, my friends, enjoy your kids. Put down the smart phone, close down the laptop/iPad, LEAVE WORK AT WORK and be in the moment with your kid as they discover the Nuk they JUST left in the hiding place less than thirty seconds ago. If your child looks up and smiles a big smile - you will miss it if your head is buried in something else and pretty soon... they won't do it anymore.
I, for one, don't want to live in a world where Olivia smiles and I am too wrapped up in something else to see it.
Ok. That made me cry just now.
So come on over and visit - but don't be afraid to step over something.
How much do we really watch our kids these days? I don't mean to hawk-eye them and make sure they don't fall off of something steep/narrow/high/etc. I mean the type of "watch" that is meant exclusively for observation.
Our generation of mothers fall into two schools: The Working Mother and the Stay At Home Mother (SAHM). These two classes of women have their own set of challenges. I will write a WHOLE blog entry about the Working Moms and the SAHMs at another time. For now, I want to talk about how both mothers rarely get the option or opportunity to sit and enjoy their children. There is always a list somewhere which needs to be completed and takes priority over quality time with the little one(s).
I say: Fuck the list.
Go ahead - ring my doorbell without calling first. My kitchen will be a mess, my bathroom trashes are full (but no overflowing), the vaccum will have been run inside of the last two weeks, the upstairs playroom will be in dissarray, DO NOT SET FOOT IN MY Master Bedroom (if you please)and there may be laundry still sitting in our dryer from two weeks ago. And you now what? I make NO apologies for it. If you don't like it - you either don't have kids or you aren't my friend. There is no other category. Spending time with Olivia, trying to get her to laugh, kissing her, holding her in my lap while she watches The Freshbeat Band are my BIGGEST priorities. The rest is, frankly, not.
When it's all said and done, I get a total of 5 hours with Olivia during the workweek (not including time driving to and from our daycare providers house). I will spend those five hours the way I want and I do NOT want to be cleaning.
"But Jenn - just do all that stuff after she goes to bed!"
No. She goes to bed at 7pm and now *I* two hours to catch up on "me" time AND "couple time" and I am not willing to spend those 6 hours (or so) a week doing things that don't bring me enjoyment. If you don't like it - well, "go over there".
I posted on Facebook this week that my life BEGAN when Olivia was born. I meant it. I have never been even CLOSE to this happy in my life. So, my friends, enjoy your kids. Put down the smart phone, close down the laptop/iPad, LEAVE WORK AT WORK and be in the moment with your kid as they discover the Nuk they JUST left in the hiding place less than thirty seconds ago. If your child looks up and smiles a big smile - you will miss it if your head is buried in something else and pretty soon... they won't do it anymore.
I, for one, don't want to live in a world where Olivia smiles and I am too wrapped up in something else to see it.
Ok. That made me cry just now.
So come on over and visit - but don't be afraid to step over something.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Like a [Dating] Virgin
On January 3rd, 2003, my husband and I went on our first date. After fawning over him for 2 years, you can imagine my interest in making sure that I looked good - I needed to create this aura of mystery that most definately no longer existed.
So I primped and preened in my 3-"bedroom", 1 bath apartment - carefully balancing my hair dryer, straightening iron, hair products, makeup, and cell phone in a bathroom large enough to turn around in.
I carefully styled my (then blond) hair. I meticulously applied enough make-up so as to make it "look natural". I picked out the pants that made my ass look good (I had just lost about 30 lbs) and a shirt that highlighted my (recently shrunken) waistline. Please note, here, that I did NOT say "a shirt that highlighted my breasts" - I hadn't discovered Victoria and my walmart bras never quite made the grade on flattering my above-the-waist features.
He arrived exactly on time and we whisked away to see Dr. Dirty at the Stress Factory in New Brunswick, NJ.
Fancy, I know.
Nearly 8 years later, I am standing in my standing in my "Master Bathroom" - en suite to my "Master Bedroom" at a dual vanity with my hair dryer, straightening iron, hair products, make-up and cell phone shamelessly sprawled out across the counter top. I am just as carefully styling my (now brunette) hair. I am meticulously applying my make-up so as to make me look "not old". I pick out a pair of jeans that make my ass look good (I have just RE-Lost the same 30lbs for the THIRD time) and picking our a shirt that hides the muffin-top left from carrying a child in a belly that bore the weight of probably 55 of the 65lbs I gained during my pregnancy). Please note, here, that I still have NOT said "a shirt that highlights my breasts" because, even after discovering the miracles Victoria has to offer, there some things that are just lost causes.
After putting our two dogs out to relieve themselves, confirming we had our movie tickets, changing the baby, grabbing Olivia's pajamas, putting the dogs in our bedroom, locking all the doors, and a few hundred other things now required to get out the door, we headed to the baby-sitters to drop Olivia off and then make our way to Sarasota for "dinner and a movie" (Harry Potter).
I couldn't help but giggle to myself as we were driving, swiftly, down 301 toward the babysitter. I planned this movie trip TWO months ago. The last movie we SAW together as a couple (in a real movie theatre) was in June, 2009 when Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released. We have lost our identity as a couple almost so completely that thee babysitter had to remind me that we had mentioned seeing Harry Potter of November 20th.
The week leading up to our date-night out you would have thought we were going to Barbados for the weekend. I spent hours trying to find the exact right restaurant in the exact right proximity to the movie theatre I had selected.
We pulled away from the sitter's nervous and anxious - excited to have finally gotten a night alone outside the four walls of our own house (in the dark people!) and worried that Olivia's first partial sleep over would be a catastrophic failure (our plan was to pick her up around 11pm, bring her home and put her straight to bed).
I am so unaccustomed to going to a movie theatre, that I put the wrong theatre into my GPS. We lost so much time back-tracking that we were forced to go to Applebee's (our least favorite restaurant) to stay on time. Josh cheerfully ordered Sam Adams Winter - on tap, if you please - only to find out they only had Sam Adams Octoberfest in a bottle ("But, Josh - we have Sam Adams Winter Lager at home in the fridge"). The service was terrible so we barely tipped (because now we are the grumpy almost thirty year-olds who expect service if we are leaving our kid home to go out and spend a TON of money to have a few hours alone).
We got to the theatre 45 minutes early to be told we had to wait in line to get into the theater until 20-minutes till - only to find out that the movie was NOT that full and we could have very easily had dinner at a better restaurant and still get great seats.
So what do two parental-parolees talk about on their first date night in over a year?
Our first jobs.
For 20 minutes we talked about our first jobs, how much they paid, how taken advantage of we were, how we thought we were "rich" from the money we earned. And then, of course, Jerry Springer walked through the lobby of the theater and I giggled uncontrollably.
I arrived at the sitter's house excited to catch a glimpse of my sleeping daughter... I don't often indulge in watching her sleep due to the risk of waking her up. She was quietly dreaming and twitching and laying there as if to say: "Mom - you can totally do this more often".
I scooped her up in my arms, she hugged me as her head lay listlessly on my shoulder, and we headed to the car.
The content of your date conversations after your entrance to the parent-hood may change drastically - your hips may have spread making it harder to find pants to "make your ass look great" - your makeup may now settle into the beginning formations of crow's feet - you may forget what its like to be in a car after dark, and a date night that once cost you $40 dollars may now cost closer to $85 when you take into account inflation, your newly aquired appreciation for decent food, your financial stability giving you unwritten permission to spend money on beer that is 4 times more expensive that the same beer you bought at the grocery store, and the babysitter (provided you aren't going to some greedy 16-year old capatalist trying to charge you $10 per hour - if you are in such a situation, you have easily wracked up a $120 evening... This was a 6 hour night!)... but unlike the successful dates of your youth, there is now nothing better in this world than getting home, squeezing your son or daughter while they drift in and out of slumber, and the crawling into the bed you bought together, snuggling in the sheets you picked out yourself and taking that final deep breath into your nostrils before you slip into sleep yourself.
So I primped and preened in my 3-"bedroom", 1 bath apartment - carefully balancing my hair dryer, straightening iron, hair products, makeup, and cell phone in a bathroom large enough to turn around in.
I carefully styled my (then blond) hair. I meticulously applied enough make-up so as to make it "look natural". I picked out the pants that made my ass look good (I had just lost about 30 lbs) and a shirt that highlighted my (recently shrunken) waistline. Please note, here, that I did NOT say "a shirt that highlighted my breasts" - I hadn't discovered Victoria and my walmart bras never quite made the grade on flattering my above-the-waist features.
He arrived exactly on time and we whisked away to see Dr. Dirty at the Stress Factory in New Brunswick, NJ.
Fancy, I know.
Nearly 8 years later, I am standing in my standing in my "Master Bathroom" - en suite to my "Master Bedroom" at a dual vanity with my hair dryer, straightening iron, hair products, make-up and cell phone shamelessly sprawled out across the counter top. I am just as carefully styling my (now brunette) hair. I am meticulously applying my make-up so as to make me look "not old". I pick out a pair of jeans that make my ass look good (I have just RE-Lost the same 30lbs for the THIRD time) and picking our a shirt that hides the muffin-top left from carrying a child in a belly that bore the weight of probably 55 of the 65lbs I gained during my pregnancy). Please note, here, that I still have NOT said "a shirt that highlights my breasts" because, even after discovering the miracles Victoria has to offer, there some things that are just lost causes.
After putting our two dogs out to relieve themselves, confirming we had our movie tickets, changing the baby, grabbing Olivia's pajamas, putting the dogs in our bedroom, locking all the doors, and a few hundred other things now required to get out the door, we headed to the baby-sitters to drop Olivia off and then make our way to Sarasota for "dinner and a movie" (Harry Potter).
I couldn't help but giggle to myself as we were driving, swiftly, down 301 toward the babysitter. I planned this movie trip TWO months ago. The last movie we SAW together as a couple (in a real movie theatre) was in June, 2009 when Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released. We have lost our identity as a couple almost so completely that thee babysitter had to remind me that we had mentioned seeing Harry Potter of November 20th.
The week leading up to our date-night out you would have thought we were going to Barbados for the weekend. I spent hours trying to find the exact right restaurant in the exact right proximity to the movie theatre I had selected.
We pulled away from the sitter's nervous and anxious - excited to have finally gotten a night alone outside the four walls of our own house (in the dark people!) and worried that Olivia's first partial sleep over would be a catastrophic failure (our plan was to pick her up around 11pm, bring her home and put her straight to bed).
I am so unaccustomed to going to a movie theatre, that I put the wrong theatre into my GPS. We lost so much time back-tracking that we were forced to go to Applebee's (our least favorite restaurant) to stay on time. Josh cheerfully ordered Sam Adams Winter - on tap, if you please - only to find out they only had Sam Adams Octoberfest in a bottle ("But, Josh - we have Sam Adams Winter Lager at home in the fridge"). The service was terrible so we barely tipped (because now we are the grumpy almost thirty year-olds who expect service if we are leaving our kid home to go out and spend a TON of money to have a few hours alone).
We got to the theatre 45 minutes early to be told we had to wait in line to get into the theater until 20-minutes till - only to find out that the movie was NOT that full and we could have very easily had dinner at a better restaurant and still get great seats.
So what do two parental-parolees talk about on their first date night in over a year?
Our first jobs.
For 20 minutes we talked about our first jobs, how much they paid, how taken advantage of we were, how we thought we were "rich" from the money we earned. And then, of course, Jerry Springer walked through the lobby of the theater and I giggled uncontrollably.
I arrived at the sitter's house excited to catch a glimpse of my sleeping daughter... I don't often indulge in watching her sleep due to the risk of waking her up. She was quietly dreaming and twitching and laying there as if to say: "Mom - you can totally do this more often".
I scooped her up in my arms, she hugged me as her head lay listlessly on my shoulder, and we headed to the car.
The content of your date conversations after your entrance to the parent-hood may change drastically - your hips may have spread making it harder to find pants to "make your ass look great" - your makeup may now settle into the beginning formations of crow's feet - you may forget what its like to be in a car after dark, and a date night that once cost you $40 dollars may now cost closer to $85 when you take into account inflation, your newly aquired appreciation for decent food, your financial stability giving you unwritten permission to spend money on beer that is 4 times more expensive that the same beer you bought at the grocery store, and the babysitter (provided you aren't going to some greedy 16-year old capatalist trying to charge you $10 per hour - if you are in such a situation, you have easily wracked up a $120 evening... This was a 6 hour night!)... but unlike the successful dates of your youth, there is now nothing better in this world than getting home, squeezing your son or daughter while they drift in and out of slumber, and the crawling into the bed you bought together, snuggling in the sheets you picked out yourself and taking that final deep breath into your nostrils before you slip into sleep yourself.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Something for nothing...
On Friday night, MSNBC aired (or re-aired, I have no idea) a special called "The Facebook Obsession". For those of you who haven't seen it, you should consider setting the DVR as its a pretty interesting piece.
The segment, of course, delves into the history of Facebook, the mid-twenty-something who founded it, and the shape of Facebook's future. I am not about to bore you with the details, but I will say that if I had managed to come up with a social network worth 15 Billion (with a "b") I would probably not do anything differently than FB has done or is doing presently.
The mini-documentary delved into the ever present issue of Facebook's security settings and the information that Facebook shares. This being the 3rd or 4th segment that I had seen on facebook since its founder was announced TIMES "Person of the Year", I will admit that I was somewhat perplexed at the amount of media attention that Facebook has been getting regarding security. Put down the tomatoes, people. Hear me out.
I thought it best (and most entertaining) if I were to pick apart the reasons why I think Facebook is AWESOME... yes "awesome". I figure that by doing this, I will best be able to establish if I feel that Facebook "deserves" the type of criticism that they are getting based on, well, how much less-awesome they are when I weight their non-awesomeness against the aspects which I consider... awesome.
1. It's fun
There is a lot to be said for small, guilty pleasures in life. Speaking as someone who has taken life entirely too seriously for WAY too long, I flat out just ENJOY Facebook. I enjoy seeing people. I enjoy congratulating people on good news. I love making status update jabs at good friends. I love uploading pics of my daughter to family and friends who are curious about her latest shenanigans.
It's fun.
2. It can make you feel like you are awesome-er than you are and build your self confidence
How fun is it to accept a friend request from someone in High School who never liked you? Yes - I realize that there is a large population of people out there who have refused to accept friend requests from former HS colleagues on principle and to you I say "here here!". Good for you! I am, admittedly, morbidly curious to find out how people are doing these days and to be honest, I have been grateful that I have accepted those requests for a number of reasons.
On the shallow side of the spectrum we have the "where are they now" factor where I get to see what exactly became of the losers whose sole mission was to make the lives of others miserable... entertainment for you back then is entertainment for ME now. End shallowness.
On the philosophical and much more Jenn-like end of the spectrum is the opportunity to get to know and network with people who have VERY much matured since HS. Let's face it - we are closer to thirty than we are to twenty these days and if you are still acting like the oh-so-responsible teenager you were in 1999 then you have big issues, my friend. One of the greatest examples of "bullies turned friend" is a girl I went to HS with named Jodie who now lives in Ft. Lauderdale area and works as a (very talented) hair dresser. She and I both happened to move to Florida and while we haven't hung out, when my brother died she offered to meet up, talk, whatever. She has invited me to places where she is going to be all in the interest of being supportive - despite the fact that she and I did NOT get along in middle/high school. So, during the darkest point in my life, a person who made my life dark is one of the lights - pretty awesome to me.
3. You'll never roam alone
How can you quickly get in touch with and notify an entire POPULATION of people when something seriously catastrophic happens to your family? Facebook. When George died, I couldn't stop saying "thank God for Facebook" - there were so many people that were close with or friends with George that I a) never knew or b) did not stay in touch with because they were his friends and not mine. How would I EVER get in touch with all of them and let them know what was going on? Simple - go to his Facebook page and message his friends. Within hours, his entire sphere of life had been notified.
But its more than that! Need to sell something? Post it on Facebook. Need a pediatrician? Ask for recommendations on Facebook. Not sure how to do something/where to find something/what to do this weekend? Post in on Facebook. It's called Social Networking and it's the single MOST effective way to get/find anything and everything you could possibly need or want. More jobs are obtained through networking than any other method of searching so you have a pretty powerful resource right at your fingertips.
4. It's free
There is little in life that is. I can post hundreds of pictures and not pay for server space. I can update hundreds of friends that we are moving/pregnant/looking for a job (WHATEVER!) and not pay for a single text message. I can get in touch and STAY in touch with my family while living in FLORIDA (1,300 miles away) without buying a plane ticket.
5. It's simple
No offense to my father intended (because I know he faithfully reads my blog) but a man that couldn't work an iPod 3 years ago has a facebook page and knows to how to use it. The same guy who was proud of himself for knowing how to turn on the computers at work and find a stock he needed to look at has a facebook page, a number of friends, and regularly writes wall posts.
So - with all of these things in mind, let me see if I understand this correctly:
We have a resource made available to us, for free, that let's us stay in CLOSE communication with the people we love and care about. A resource that allows us the opportunity to network for jobs, housewares, health care, clothes, parenting advice, weekend plans, etc. at no charge. A place where we can quickly communicate major life changes with very little effort and maximum impact/benefit at no charge to us. A site that is so simple our parents and grandparents can open it and view information about each other. Facebook brings people together. Facebook enables us all to stay connected. FOR FREE. It provides us with the single most valuable resource in life - PEOPLE. NETWORKING. CONNECTIVITY TO EACH OTHER - for free.
But we don't want them to share basic demographic information with advertisers. DEMOGRAPHICS, people. The same information that is used when you apply for anything. THE most basic things. Age, city, and sex. So, here is this company who has completely changed our lives (for the better) who gives us this incredible resource for free but when it comes to allowing their advertisers (aka "how they keep the lights on and the programmers programming") with information which would enable them to most effectively market their wares (read: "Market to the most targeted population as cheaply as possible), we have a problem with it? Wait - you mean a company that sells women's jeans is MORE interested in marketing directly to ME - a 30 year old female in Tampa, Florida as opposed to spending their marking dollars on my 55 year old father in Pennsylvania? Noooooooooooo! SHENANIGANS!!!!! BLASPHEMY!
All kidding aside, now - let's have a "Jenn moment" where I seriously discuss the personal accountability issues.
YES, I understand that Facebook occasionally "defaults" our security preferences. It's my responsibility as a user to make sure, from time to time, that they are set where I expected them to be. Personally - I have never had a problem (so far).
With that said, there are many who have complained that Facebook has too much information (the same argument has been made of Google) and that they are doing too much to track our information... ok......... how do they get that kind of information? They get it through our site clicks - mostly when we "like" things on facebook and non-facebook pages. These clicks are then entered into their incredibly large database where they say "you liked this so you would be interested in this kind of advertising". The solution? Don't click. I don't click on anything facebook related except "share this blog".
You don't want to facebook to use your information - look at the way you use facebook. All those apps and games and Farmvilles - READ the request that Facebook is making - it's asking to tap into your information even when you aren't using the application. What do you think its DOING? Leaving you love messages on your bathroom mirror? NO! When you want to find your first facebook status it tells you that its going to basically read EVERYTHING about your profile and asks for your permission to continue. You just HAVE to know what your first facebook status of all time was so you click it, say "SURE APP COMPANY WHO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT!! Have at my stuff! I MUST know what my first facebook status was!" *click click*... oh nooooooooooooo wait... it didn't work! It's spam!" Now, all you have done is given some app company you know nothing about and even less about how they are going to USE the information that you just allowed them access to and you didn't even get the satisfaction of knowing you status update from 6 years ago!
Stop the gluttony and resist the temptation and you will limit your exposure to Pandora's Box.
Until you take a serious look at how you use Facebook and make adjustments, you have aboslutely zero right to complain. For me - until I hear someone say "Facebook gave my phone number to advertisers", I will continue happily using it. (I have had my cell loaded on FB for 6 years and have never gotten a single sales call on my cell).
Before I go, let me say that my "Personal accountability" position continues into the uploading of photos and posting of status', but more on that in a future blog.
Until then - be responsible, stay connected, and enjoy a free benefit. And hey - go poke someone. Everyone needs to poke and be poked.
The segment, of course, delves into the history of Facebook, the mid-twenty-something who founded it, and the shape of Facebook's future. I am not about to bore you with the details, but I will say that if I had managed to come up with a social network worth 15 Billion (with a "b") I would probably not do anything differently than FB has done or is doing presently.
The mini-documentary delved into the ever present issue of Facebook's security settings and the information that Facebook shares. This being the 3rd or 4th segment that I had seen on facebook since its founder was announced TIMES "Person of the Year", I will admit that I was somewhat perplexed at the amount of media attention that Facebook has been getting regarding security. Put down the tomatoes, people. Hear me out.
I thought it best (and most entertaining) if I were to pick apart the reasons why I think Facebook is AWESOME... yes "awesome". I figure that by doing this, I will best be able to establish if I feel that Facebook "deserves" the type of criticism that they are getting based on, well, how much less-awesome they are when I weight their non-awesomeness against the aspects which I consider... awesome.
1. It's fun
There is a lot to be said for small, guilty pleasures in life. Speaking as someone who has taken life entirely too seriously for WAY too long, I flat out just ENJOY Facebook. I enjoy seeing people. I enjoy congratulating people on good news. I love making status update jabs at good friends. I love uploading pics of my daughter to family and friends who are curious about her latest shenanigans.
It's fun.
2. It can make you feel like you are awesome-er than you are and build your self confidence
How fun is it to accept a friend request from someone in High School who never liked you? Yes - I realize that there is a large population of people out there who have refused to accept friend requests from former HS colleagues on principle and to you I say "here here!". Good for you! I am, admittedly, morbidly curious to find out how people are doing these days and to be honest, I have been grateful that I have accepted those requests for a number of reasons.
On the shallow side of the spectrum we have the "where are they now" factor where I get to see what exactly became of the losers whose sole mission was to make the lives of others miserable... entertainment for you back then is entertainment for ME now. End shallowness.
On the philosophical and much more Jenn-like end of the spectrum is the opportunity to get to know and network with people who have VERY much matured since HS. Let's face it - we are closer to thirty than we are to twenty these days and if you are still acting like the oh-so-responsible teenager you were in 1999 then you have big issues, my friend. One of the greatest examples of "bullies turned friend" is a girl I went to HS with named Jodie who now lives in Ft. Lauderdale area and works as a (very talented) hair dresser. She and I both happened to move to Florida and while we haven't hung out, when my brother died she offered to meet up, talk, whatever. She has invited me to places where she is going to be all in the interest of being supportive - despite the fact that she and I did NOT get along in middle/high school. So, during the darkest point in my life, a person who made my life dark is one of the lights - pretty awesome to me.
3. You'll never roam alone
How can you quickly get in touch with and notify an entire POPULATION of people when something seriously catastrophic happens to your family? Facebook. When George died, I couldn't stop saying "thank God for Facebook" - there were so many people that were close with or friends with George that I a) never knew or b) did not stay in touch with because they were his friends and not mine. How would I EVER get in touch with all of them and let them know what was going on? Simple - go to his Facebook page and message his friends. Within hours, his entire sphere of life had been notified.
But its more than that! Need to sell something? Post it on Facebook. Need a pediatrician? Ask for recommendations on Facebook. Not sure how to do something/where to find something/what to do this weekend? Post in on Facebook. It's called Social Networking and it's the single MOST effective way to get/find anything and everything you could possibly need or want. More jobs are obtained through networking than any other method of searching so you have a pretty powerful resource right at your fingertips.
4. It's free
There is little in life that is. I can post hundreds of pictures and not pay for server space. I can update hundreds of friends that we are moving/pregnant/looking for a job (WHATEVER!) and not pay for a single text message. I can get in touch and STAY in touch with my family while living in FLORIDA (1,300 miles away) without buying a plane ticket.
5. It's simple
No offense to my father intended (because I know he faithfully reads my blog) but a man that couldn't work an iPod 3 years ago has a facebook page and knows to how to use it. The same guy who was proud of himself for knowing how to turn on the computers at work and find a stock he needed to look at has a facebook page, a number of friends, and regularly writes wall posts.
So - with all of these things in mind, let me see if I understand this correctly:
We have a resource made available to us, for free, that let's us stay in CLOSE communication with the people we love and care about. A resource that allows us the opportunity to network for jobs, housewares, health care, clothes, parenting advice, weekend plans, etc. at no charge. A place where we can quickly communicate major life changes with very little effort and maximum impact/benefit at no charge to us. A site that is so simple our parents and grandparents can open it and view information about each other. Facebook brings people together. Facebook enables us all to stay connected. FOR FREE. It provides us with the single most valuable resource in life - PEOPLE. NETWORKING. CONNECTIVITY TO EACH OTHER - for free.
But we don't want them to share basic demographic information with advertisers. DEMOGRAPHICS, people. The same information that is used when you apply for anything. THE most basic things. Age, city, and sex. So, here is this company who has completely changed our lives (for the better) who gives us this incredible resource for free but when it comes to allowing their advertisers (aka "how they keep the lights on and the programmers programming") with information which would enable them to most effectively market their wares (read: "Market to the most targeted population as cheaply as possible), we have a problem with it? Wait - you mean a company that sells women's jeans is MORE interested in marketing directly to ME - a 30 year old female in Tampa, Florida as opposed to spending their marking dollars on my 55 year old father in Pennsylvania? Noooooooooooo! SHENANIGANS!!!!! BLASPHEMY!
All kidding aside, now - let's have a "Jenn moment" where I seriously discuss the personal accountability issues.
YES, I understand that Facebook occasionally "defaults" our security preferences. It's my responsibility as a user to make sure, from time to time, that they are set where I expected them to be. Personally - I have never had a problem (so far).
With that said, there are many who have complained that Facebook has too much information (the same argument has been made of Google) and that they are doing too much to track our information... ok......... how do they get that kind of information? They get it through our site clicks - mostly when we "like" things on facebook and non-facebook pages. These clicks are then entered into their incredibly large database where they say "you liked this so you would be interested in this kind of advertising". The solution? Don't click. I don't click on anything facebook related except "share this blog".
You don't want to facebook to use your information - look at the way you use facebook. All those apps and games and Farmvilles - READ the request that Facebook is making - it's asking to tap into your information even when you aren't using the application. What do you think its DOING? Leaving you love messages on your bathroom mirror? NO! When you want to find your first facebook status it tells you that its going to basically read EVERYTHING about your profile and asks for your permission to continue. You just HAVE to know what your first facebook status of all time was so you click it, say "SURE APP COMPANY WHO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT!! Have at my stuff! I MUST know what my first facebook status was!" *click click*... oh nooooooooooooo wait... it didn't work! It's spam!" Now, all you have done is given some app company you know nothing about and even less about how they are going to USE the information that you just allowed them access to and you didn't even get the satisfaction of knowing you status update from 6 years ago!
Stop the gluttony and resist the temptation and you will limit your exposure to Pandora's Box.
Until you take a serious look at how you use Facebook and make adjustments, you have aboslutely zero right to complain. For me - until I hear someone say "Facebook gave my phone number to advertisers", I will continue happily using it. (I have had my cell loaded on FB for 6 years and have never gotten a single sales call on my cell).
Before I go, let me say that my "Personal accountability" position continues into the uploading of photos and posting of status', but more on that in a future blog.
Until then - be responsible, stay connected, and enjoy a free benefit. And hey - go poke someone. Everyone needs to poke and be poked.
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