My Closet Is Not My Own

Hey!

Do you remember what your closet looked like back in high school?  I do.  

It was filled with clothes, of course, but it also had some mementos from my childhood, stuff my mother told me to clean up and I threw it in there, shoes, papers I didn't want to throw away, and the odd accessory.   

Essentially, if you looked in my closet back then, it would've been an extension of me, and you could've gleaned some information about who I was.  Probably pretty egocentric.  I mean, it was a place for all things Bonnie.

nice wooden hangers.  my clothes wish I bought those.

Nowadays, I look at my closet and think, "Who put that there?"  But I also think that my closet is still a pretty good representative of who I am today.

As I take a gander at my built-in shoe shelves, I don't see just shoes.  One shelf contains a varied assortment of washcloths. (the "master bath" doesn't have a linen closet to itself, and the cabinet under the sinks can't hold all the accouterments necessary for the bathroom.  My husband's closet is in charge of the towels.)

Mine are actually various shades of white.  Bleach would help.

Another holds miscellaneous hair bobs, smallish mementos and papers that I haven't found a place for, my one bottle of perfume, and the face cream and makeup bag I always forget to use.

The bottom 2 shelves actually hold shoes, and they don't seem any worse for the wear being piled up on top of each other like that.  I mean, most of them were bought over 3 years ago, so who'd know anyway?

not really.

The big shelves on top that span the perimeter of the space hold too many things to name, but it consists of everything from Christmas and birthday gifts and books all bought in preparation for the next gifting season, to unopened essential oil bottles, to medical tubing and supplies from when our youngest was ill in the hospital.  (might can use those at home again sometime!  Maybe they should go in the craft supply area and out of my closet....hmmm.)

There is another lower shelf that holds items that are in "time out".

What?  You didn't know inanimate objects could be put in "time out"?  I'm sure you did, but you just forgot.  It's the items that have been given too much attention, (particularly loved books, video games, and movies) or have been used as diversions for certain children when chores or schoolwork were waiting to be completed.  
Along with those items, an accidental home has been made for children's artwork, pictures, funeral bulletins, and various electronic odds and ends from the above mentioned punished devices.

You'll also find stickers applied to my walls by loving children, gift wrapping, and sample sized toiletries for children's use on trips, camps, and overnight stays.  I also have a garment or two of my teen aged daughter's hanging in there, along with my own jackets and a few items that I didn't want junking up my bedroom and irritating my neater husband.  Essentially, my closet also serves as a version of sweeping a few things "under the rug".

So, clearly, my closet is truly not just my own, but it does accurately speak of who I am - A mother who is more messy under the surface that at first she appears, who cares little for updated footwear but values a child's feelings, and who is a little sentimental, but not about medical tubing. 
   
I wonder what your closet says about you?  

"Get that Corn Outta My Face!"

It does not, I’m convinced, occur to little children that putting something 2 inches in front of your nose is rude.  Nor do they find it problematic to continue talking to you while holding said item in front of your face.

                                        

Are you on the phone? Not an issue for a child. This does nothing to prevent them from their task, and they will often speak a little louder, in case the phone conversation is keeping you from hearing the request. 

 On the potty? We’ve discussed this in an earlier post, but suffice it to say that this is actually a preferred position for the prospective listener to be in, for they are cornered and easier to approach while “at their duty”. 

 Correcting another child? Speaking to another human present? Thinking? Cooking? Reading? Sleeping? These are all no problem for children, and in fact your immobility in those moments make you a prime target.

                     

This situation happens more than occasionally to me, though I have continued the anti paper-in-the-face training with this kind of conversation:

Me - “Hey, honeybun, can you move that beautiful picture for a minute?  I just need to finish grading this.  And remember it’s rude to put.....

A child - “ Look at the ladybug I drew and I made a number two all by myself and I like blue and the cloud is big because it’s about to rain. “

Me - “That’s great but I’ll be able to look at it better when you move the paper and I can finish this.  Be patient.”

Sometimes the child will then turn on their heel and begin to walk away, as if the moment is lost and any value on the page expired with my lack of attention.  I quickly call the child back to me and say something like:

“Come back.  (with my hand gently on child’s arm) Now, be patient and as soon as I’m at a good stopping point, I’ll give you my full attention.  Wait here.  It’ll just be a moment.”

No doubt a child who is old enough to notice is thinking: “A good stopping point?  Seemed like a good stopping point when you just stopped to tell me to wait!”

True.

Nevertheless, I believe in the value of delayed gratification.  You know, waiting to get what you want because the outcome is better.  Like, your mother is actually looking at your picture and paying it attention instead of mindlessly mumbling, “Uh huh. So nice.”

Also, there is value in simply being patient when someone is already engaged.  Especially if it involved interacting with someone else before you got there.  Waiting your turn, as it were.  Manners.

Now, let me be clear:  I am not referring to a child with an emergency.  Bleeding, yelling, crying, and rushed information all get my immediate attention!

                                                 

(child slides into room talking so fast and breathlessly they are almost unintelligible):

"Mama there's a dog from next door you know the one that is big and it isn't Princess and not the dog from 2 houses down but that other one and it's in the field and the chickens are out and the little kids are out there trying to get the dog not to see the chickens and you better come stop them before that dog sees the chickens!"

But yes.  Delayed gratification, patience, and waiting your turn is good.  And I will continue to teach this to my children and anyone else in my sphere of influence that need reminding of these good things.  (I also can hear what I am saying and I can learn a lot from my own correction!)

In the meantime, I guess I will patiently continue to move beautiful things from in front of my face and wait for the gratification of seeing my children exercise these same qualities when it comes to getting my attention for anything else that deserves my undue attention.  Especially beautiful crayon pictures of ladybugs.  

A Touching Metaphorical Tale

I was minding my own business one day when I felt what I believed to be someone tapping my shoulder from behind.  I turned around and saw no one.  “Hmm,” I said to no one in particular, as I shrugged and went back to my work.

A bit later, I again felt a tap on my shoulder, but this time it was more pronounced.  Maybe even forceful.  When I turned around, I saw, to my surprise, someone who looked exceptionally like me, except for a few differences I had never noticed in my own self.

She was my height and had my same hair coloring but with a bit more grey around the temples and sprinkled throughout her long brown locks.  “Definitely an older gal” I thought.  She also had reading glasses on her head, as if she had just used them and slid them up there ready for their next assignment.  “Poor thing.  She can’t even see when she wants to read an article on what the current dress trend is.  She clearly needs to brush up on that info.”

However, because I was feeling automatically friendly toward her, (she looked almost exactly like me after all!) I inquired, “Hello.  Who are you?”

“I’m you,” she replied, “only older.”

“Come again?” I queried.

“Oh yes, silly woman.  You haven’t noticed me, but I’ve been here for some time.  I’m the “Over 40” you,” she said with a slight mocking laugh.

I was perplexed.  At 44 years old and nearing 45, I had noticed a few minor changes, but though this woman seemed the same as me in many ways, she was also too unlike me to BE me.  Wasn’t she?

I wasn’t sure I liked this.  Or her.   Yet.

“Haven’t you noticed that sometime in the last two years or so, you couldn’t refocus far away after spending any time reading?  Don’t you remember you went for your first eye exam EVER and the doc prescribed reading glasses?”

Of course I remembered!  The audacity!  The look-alike went on to imply that just because the glasses currently lived in the bottom of my purse didn’t mean that I didn’t need them.

“And how about those “infections” you had last year?  Remember those?”

Oh!  You mean the UTIs I elegantly received right during two different holiday seasons?  You bet I remembered!  The first time I EVER had one had been last year at Easter and it was followed at Christmas by another excruciating one.

“That was you?” I implored with a rising sense of strong dislike.

“Oh yes, honeybun!”  But there was more.

“You didn’t think that was a coincidence did you?  And what about 3 miscarriages in as many years?  After 7 healthy, no-problem pregnancies and births, you didn’t think “Over 40” had nothing to do with it, did you?”

“Ummm…”

As she continued candidly, my indignation grew, and I told her so.  “What is wrong with you lady?  Do you have some horrid self-hate?  I mean, I am YOU after all, and this seems a little self-defeating!  (What other big words did I learn in freshman psyc to screw this woman down?)  You are self-sabotaging you know?  Why bring this down on me?  I mean You?  I mean Us?”  This conversation was confusing.

“Oh Bonnie, don’t act so put out.  You saw these things happening.  You just ignored them!” she remonstrated.  “You noticed that for the first time in your entire life you had a horrible itching “down there”.  You knew you’d never had a yeast infection before turning 40!  Don’t act so naïve!  Your friends are experiencing all this too, and you’ve all talked about high blood pressure, pre-menopause, hot flashes, thyroid issues, pre-diabetic issues.  C’mon!” she admonished.

I was still skeptical.  “But those are unrelated issues.  And some of my friends are quite a bit older than me, (6 years counts, right?) and some of them have had these issues for a while.  Certainly before turning 40.”  I felt justified and more confident the more I thought about it.

“Sure,” she condescended.  “And none of those issues have escalated after 40, right?  And new issues haven’t surfaced, sometimes with alarming speed, right?”

She had me there.  With growing concern I inquired, “Well what am I, uhhh, are we, going to do about it?”

With a sense of calm and soothing encouragement she replied, “Almost nothing.”

I realized at that moment how I had grown to trust this woman’s judgement.  She seemed so … grown up.  So wise.  I think I even admired her.  So I continued my questions.

“Why aren’t YOU worried?  And doing ‘almost nothing’ sounds really dumb by the way.”

 “Well, you get your symptoms checked out, like when you got treatment for the UTIs, and then you live with the ones that are here to stay, like your saggy arm skin.”  She seemed a little snippy.  “You put up with the occasional lack of bladder control and do less jumping around, coughing, and sneezing without proper “protection” in your undergarments.  And you don’t think there is any need to change your evolved, "matured" opinion about music, movies, and tv programs of our current age do you?

“Heck no!" I replied emphatically.  "There was a day I was into all of those things.  But I was young and stupid then.”  I continued to consider.  “Of course in MY youth,” I reminded her, “those things weren’t so pointless, violent, and lacking in morals.  I mean, entertainment wasn’t perfect, but it was a lot more obvious what was being touted as right and wrong.  The immoral stuff was less graphic and insidious.  We didn’t like that kind of stuff.  But kids today…” I trailed off, as I caught a glimpse of her countenance.  She had a sly smile, and a know-it-all look on her face.

“You do realize you sound like an old person, right?”

“Well aren’t you high and mighty?” I rebuffed.  “YOU are me, too, so I guess you’re putting yourself down!  Ha!”   This was getting tricky.

“Yes, but I’m okay with it,” she replied with a hint of irony.

Slowly, I began to see her point, and I realized that all the things I didn’t like that “Mrs. Over 40” had brought with her, were just part of getting all her glorious confidence and wisdom of experience.  Yes, I dressed for comfort more than style!  (far more practical and accommodating than heels, tight jeans and short skirts) Yes, I hate most of what our culture dishes out, but I’m more discerning and understand WHY it sucks.  Yes, I don’t remember words I want to use in conversation, but my vocabulary has grown to...enable me to…pick out….other words to use in their place!  HA HA!  And Yes, I may sound arrogant to the young (or maybe everyone else!), but I feel very certain that anyone who wants to pick my brain will be rewarded for their efforts because I too have screwed up royally and been stupid, but the difference between me and the ignorant 20-somethings is I have learned from it and already had multiple opportunities to try again and get it right!

(stupid.  sorry, it is.  no wait.  I'm not sorry.)

 So, I made my peace with that amusing, slightly cynical, self-assured middle-aged lady, gave her a grateful hug, and invited her to stay.  She can be completely lacking in sympathy (“Stop your whining about how the kitchen looked before you went to bed!  What do you think, everything will get done everyday?” I heard her tell me yesterday), but she is almost always sincere and she knows a lot of …. (Um, what’s the word?)… stuff.     

What You Said To Me

(in my kitchen; me, resting my elbows on the counter, you, sitting in the armchair enjoying the coffee I made for you)

Me – What does ‘tarpaulin’ mean?

You – I don’t know.  (pause) Want me to Google it?

Me – (with furrowed brow) No. I don’t want you to “Google” it. I want a person I know to tell me because they know the answer.

You – What difference does it make as long as you find out what “tarpaulin” means?

Me – Well, I don’t like what this implies!  People in general just don’t know regular stuff anymore!  They have to “Google” it. (the word “Google” said in a taunting voice)

You – (with mock patience) I don’t think the definition of “tarpaulin” is “regular stuff”.  (off topic – you really need to work on your sarcastic attitude.  It’s kinda rude.)

Me – Well, I think day was that a “regular” person would’ve known that!

You – Well, You don’t!

(silence and a stare from me – you cheeky bugger.)

Me – (with a smug smirk) Well, that just proves my point now doesn’t it!  I’m concerned for us all!

You – Listen.  I get it, and sorta sympathize, but there is so much more we do know now!  And it’s right at our fingertips on the web.  I’m guessing you’re busting on technology in general, right?

Me – (with a skeptical look on my face, eyes narrowed, said slowly) Maybe.  Not really.  More on our ignorant reliance on it for everyday stuff.

You – Like what?

Me – (arms flung into the air as I purposely move toward my dusty array of cookbooks) Recipes for one!  Grandma’s biscuits aren’t cherished anymore…gotta look up “biscuits” online!!  But let’s be real! People just buy (disgust oozing from my voice) CANNED!

You – (interrupting my rant – also rude.) Oh brother.

Me – (kindly ignoring your rudeness and continuing) And how to do stuff!!  Like … (fumbling slightly for words)…crafts and stuff!  We can’t just … make a door decoration with a grapevine wreath, a glue gun, and silk flowers from Michael’s anymore?  NOOoooo!!  That’s not good enough!  (warming to my subject, hands on hips) We gotta look on “Pin-trest” (said with even more disgust than “Google” and a slight shake of the hips).

You – (condescending silence and slowly moving your chin to rest on your hand)

Me – (with increased confidence and volume) And that, my friend, brings us back to “tarpaulin”!  WORDS!  People don’t use great vocabulary anymore!  Because the majority of what they read is 3 word sentence texts (with an eye roll) from their vocabulary stunted friends!!!

You – (hurriedly hiding your phone under your leg after checking it for texts during my important soliloquy)

Me – (continuing) Whatever happened to using a dictionary?  Dear Daniel Webster is probably rolling over in his grave!

You – But people do use Webster’s – they just do it online.

Me – (sighing, calming down, and moving to my well-worn copy of Webster’s)  Well, I don’t like it.  What’s so wrong with keeping a real, live, thick, heavy book on the bookshelf and pulling it out as needed?

 

You – (lost in thought and beginning to gaze out of the window) Ya’ know, lots of people don’t keep many books anymore.  There are virtual copies of almost everything online… (the end of the sentence getting softer as you slowly turn your head to regard me and realize your massive blunder)

Me – Oh.     Don’t. Get. Me. Started.

Ya' don't say?

On the recommendation of my dear friend Kathleen (hereafter referred to as "Kat"), I will post on "words and phrases that would be fun to say all day". I'll begin with her suggestions, and maybe you will add a few too......

"I'll tell you one thing..."
"Like I always say...."
"I wouldn't eat/say/do that if I were you..."

and now my additions...

"whodunit?" (at every opportunity - sometimes just as an exclamation)

"pea-sized brain" (this is always funny, especially when speaking of animals)

"Well, frankly...." (to begin a sentence that answers ANY question)

"I'm an ordinary woman, with feelings!" (can be sung like Carol Burnett in "Annie")

"Have you no SANITY?"

"Surely you jest."

"It hurts me to say this...." (always appropriate when answering a question with "no")

"Ya' don't say!"

"Morbidly obese" (I'm not sure how, but work it into conversation - it's fun to say)

"There comes a time in every man/woman/boy/girl 's life...."

"Speaking of ____ , ..." (insert any word and begin speaking on a topic of your choice.)

"Hang on. I think better lying down" (use anytime someone else begins speaking)



It hurts me to say this, but, repeating anything all day would be fun simply because it would annoy everyone else.