Zen Mama Wannabe

Does it Take a Village to Raise a Brat?

If you are a brat at age 8, where do you end up when you are 16?  To adapt the lines from the hit musical Wicked, “Are people born BRATTY, or is BRATTINESS thrust upon them?”  When you see a bratty kid, whose fault is it really?  And what can the rest of us do about it?

I guess I have spent a little too much time around some 8-year olds recently.  I am STILL shocked by some of the things they said, the tone they used, and their attitude in general.  How in the world can these kids think this behavior is okay??  Is that the message they are getting from their parents?   Truly, if this is the make-up of our future generation, our country is in for way more trouble than anyone could ever expect. 

Are the parents as clueless as they come across?  The moms of these boys I know say their sons are all “good.”  Do these kids just know how to work it?  Do they behave at home, but when they are out of their parents’ range, anything goes? 

We say it takes a village to raise a child, a noble and endearing theory at best.  But what is happening in our villages?  Is this now the acceptable way for kids to be?  Have our standards dropped changed and we’ve just been too busy to notice? 

What ever happened to showing respect to grown-ups (teachers, other parents, neighbors, etc)?  Perhaps a little hard to do when kids so casually call adults by their first name (one of my growing pet peeves) as if they were chums.  I saw one parent joking around with another, and her kid who was standing there started to join in too.  What did the both sets of parents do?  They laughed.  This only egged him on further, but no one did anything to stop him.  The kid looked like he though he was pretty cool – and the message was sent loud and clear:  this type of behavior is okay to do. 

Where are the parents that are working hard to teach their children manners and how to conduct themselves appropriately not only at home, but at school and in life?  That is the village that I want to join!  I blame the media a great deal for the tones and mannerisms we see on the playgrounds – but what it really comes down to is parents letting their kids play video games and watch TV shows and movies that are not age appropriate.  The kids take it in like sponges and then start flipping the tone and the words as if they are just as cool as the actors they saw portray it.  What you can say when you are 18 or 25 can sound horrific coming out of an 8-year old’s mouth.  But how can we expect the kids to know that?

It is not just the boys you witness this with.  You can pretty much pick out the little girls in 1st grade (and Kindergarten!) who watch Hannah Montana and High School Musical, etc.  Where else do they get that sassy tone and the disconcerting mannerisms?  What might be cute to see a 12-year old do becomes sickening to watch with a 6-year old.  "But you have to be into it," a mother confided in me.  "All the girls are."  Again, great village we are living in, eh? 

Maybe it is too easy to blame it solely on the media.  The media may be corrupting our young society as a whole, but in the end it comes down to the parents.  You can teach your kids manners or you can subscribe to the “Well, everyone else does it this way” philosophy.  Just like we tell our kids, we adults have a choice too. 

Of course not every 8-year old is rude or bratty.  Probably only a handful from each class, right?  But being around just a few of them was enough to make my stomach ill.  Don’t these parents get it?  This Zen Mama Wannabe feels as a parent I am trying my best – to teach the golden rule, to have good manners ingrained in my kids so that it is second nature to them – and yet these other kids seem like bad apples in the barrel threatening to ruin the whole batch. 

Without withdrawing from society completely, how does a parent like me manage in the world today? Where it is all about short cuts, sloppy work and trying to do the least amount possible.  Where a child blatantly lies and then gives you a look like “I just dare you to tell my mom” and then makes sure he gets to his parent first with a spin that completely twists the story all around. Please tell me it can change.  Because I am sure not feeling so good about it right now.

A Date with Oscar?

Tonight is the 81st Annual Academy Awards…do you plan on watching?  Between the actual award show with host Hugh Jackman, the Red Carpet Special immediately prior, plus the 90-minute arrival show and the 90-minute winners recap, there is over 7 hours of possible television viewing!  What’s your take?  Intriguing or insane??

Do you like to see what all the stars are wearing?  The beautiful dresses.  The “What in the world were they thinking?” attire.  The hairstyles.  The jewelry.  I confess I do.  Call it one of my escapes guilty pleasures (just like devouring People Magazine each week).  But that many hours in front of the TV has no appeal to me.  The papers and magazines do a good job with all their photos and recaps.  I might feel like I’m missing out – but not by much.

There was a year or two (way back in the 1990’s) where I actually saw all the nominated Best Movies, and most of the other top ones too.  I watched every minute of the Academy Awards that year and really enjoyed it.  I always thought an Oscar party, with champagne and appetizers, would be really fun.  Perhaps a few side bets just to liven things up.  After all, look at how people huddle around for Super Bowl parties.  This is the equivalent for film lovers.

But over the years, the party idea has lost its grandeur.  Now I find myself having seen NONE of the top nominated movies.  Heck, I can’t remember the last time I even got OUT to the movies.  And you know what?  I don’t feel so deprived.  The whole going out to the movies is not the experience it once was.  Or maybe it is when you add it all up (the tickets, parking, overpriced popcorn, the babysitter) it just never adds up to a win.  For that kind of money, I’d rather go out to a really nice dinner at one of these trendy restaurants in the city I hear so much about). 

With our 55-inch flat screen and all the surround-sound speakers my husband has hooked up, we have our own theater experience right here.  I’d rather stretch out on our cozy couch, make my own popcorn (or even better, sip on a glass of wine) and press pause whenever I need to get up for some reason.  The only real negative is not being up on all the new movies – the ones everyone is talking about.

This year in particular does have many releases I am interested in seeing.  All of the Best Picture Nominees:  Slumdog Millionaire, The Reader with Kate Winslet, Milk with Sean Penn, Frost/Nixon, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  Then a few other nominated films:  Doubt with Meryl Streep, Revolutionary Road with Kate and Leo, Rachel Getting Married with Anne Hathaway. 

I did actually see one film (no – not The Dark Night – not really my speed) which received a best actor nomination for Richard Jenkins called The Visitor.  Rented it one Saturday night with no expectations and was pleasantly surprised.  It was a good film.  Not sure I’d be as happy if I had paid full price at the theater, but it was an excellent one to rent.  (You know, that unspoken rating system.)

Whether you are watching the marathon coverage or not, is there any actor or movie in particular YOU are routing for?  Any of these nominated films make it on your list of Must Sees?  If YOU were handling out the Oscars tonight, what movie would be given your Best Picture honor?  This Zen Mama Wannabe is always looking for recommendations (I just always seem to be about 4-6 months behind); any movie I should make sure I put on my list??

Messing Up

I mess up on things a lot.  Especially with this parenting business.  That is why I am a wannabe.  I could tell you all the many ways I screw it up and you would undoubtedly cringe at a lot of them.  I sure do in hindsight.  I’m either the dreaded helicopter parent swooping in too often or too soon OR I don’t pipe up enough, especially in dealings with other kids.  The “Oh, let them work it out – that is how kids learn” philosophy is great in theory, but leaves me feeling conflicted and doubtful most of the time.   And above all I think, you never want to be a parent doubting yourself.

There is a balance – a fine line between helicopter and hands-off, and I for one, don’t have it down.  Mama definitely ain’t got her groove.  Maybe that is what makes me feel the worst.  I feel I should.  I wish I did.  But it still seems like a minefield I am carefully navigating – and yes, sometimes things do blow up in my face. 

Today I saw my son struggling, playing with these other two boys at the park.  My guy just wanted to play catch.  These boys insisted on Monkey in the Middle – and my son was put as the monkey.  He never could knock it down – thus remaining in the middle – and meaning he never got to even handle the ball.  How much fun is that? 

I could read the look on my son’s face.  He was not happy, and his good-natured way was slowly evaporating.  Do I jump in?  Insist or “suggest” that they play it differently – I know, how about the old fashioned way where you just throw it to each other and catch it and everyone gets a turn?  Too dull these days? One of the boys (the alpha kid if you will) was becoming a bit aggressive in his teasing (torture).  But perhaps I am just over-protective? 

I did nothing (not proud of it – just telling you the story).  It was one of the other boy’s mothers that stepped in and changed the dynamics of the game.  She (a schoolteacher so perhaps a bit more experienced – or just better – than I) could see that my son was miserable and felt the other boys were now acting mean-spirited. 

Maybe it was better coming from her – because it didn’t look like a mom stepping in protecting her son.  Maybe it was worse it didn’t come from me because after all, I saw my son’s struggles and didn’t respond to it. (What kind of message does that send him?)

At the end of this playdate, the final incident happened.  It was over a game of tag my son didn’t want to play.  We were getting ready to pack it all up, but Alpha Boy wasn’t quite ready for it to end.  He insisted they play and that HE would be IT, but then at the last second, yelled, “Not IT” making the second boy IT, who seemed confused by the sudden change in events, but quickly reached over and tagged my son.  My guy looked bewildered; he had stated it pretty clearly he wasn’t playing, but now somehow seemed to be in an active game of tag.  He stood there for a couple seconds, clearly not sure if he should just go along, you know be a good sport and play this game being forced upon him. 

This time I stepped jumped in. “Hey Buddy," I yelled. " I thought you said you weren’t playing?  Well, anyway – it is time for us to go.”  Ah – saved at last.  My son ran over to me and gave me a hug, but really he was hiding the fact tears were now spilling from his eyes.  “I was just so confused,” he admitted in a muffled voice.  As was I – and told him so.   He wasn’t alone there.

It had been long enough at the park with these boys – for both of us.  The negative undercurrent I had been sensing this whole time was also being felt by him and he was starting to lose it.  He buried his head in my chest as the tears kept coming.  I comforted him for a minute, but then saw the other boys starting to walk over.  Trouble brewing.  “Ok, Buddy.  Deep breaths. Pull it together.  You don’t want them to see you cry,” I told him, helping him wipe the incriminating evidence off his cheeks. 

Suddenly Alpha Boy was there.  “Is he CRYING?" he wanted to know.  This Zen Mama Wannabe stood tall.  “Oh, he just got something in his eye,” I told him.  My son’s head jerked back, startled at my less than honest response.  But when he looked up at me, it was all over his face: pure relief.  My heart cracked a little.  Alpha Boy wanted to know if it was a wood chip 'cuz that had happened to him once.  Situation adverted.

On the walk back to the car, my son surprised me by stopping me to say, “Thanks, Mom.  You know, for what you said back there.  I really appreciate it.”  Ahh – my heart melted back together again.  All the way home all I could think was thank you.  Thank you for this one time letting me get it right. 

Housebound and Stir-Crazy

The rain keeps pouring down.  It is a good thing.  Everyone says we need the rain.  A few weeks ago the headlines of all the newspapers screamed DROUGHT COMING.  Water rationing.  People looked outside at their gardens and flowerbeds and sighed.  So the rain is good.  I’ve learned (in my 1+ years up here) it is almost an unspoken rule that you can’t complain about the rain.  So allow me just to share with you:  I AM GOING OUT OF MY SOGGY, WATER-LOGGED MIND!!

All the rain would come THIS week – what is traditionally known as Ski Week up here.  Instead of just getting Presidents’ Day off, the school districts here decided to give kids the WHOLE week off.  This is in addition to our Spring Break week in April.  (And we wonder why we have to start school in August now – instead of after Labor Day – and go through the third week in June. Hmm.)

Working parents find this to be a royal pain.  They are scrambling to make arrangements for their kids during this non-traditional week off.  More money to be spent on daycare or Ski Week Camp, etc.  On the other side of that equation, some parents have loaded up the Lexus Hybrid SUV and gone to Tahoe for a week’s worth of skiing and snowboarding.  After all, isn’t that what Ski Week is all about?

I fall in neither camp. No, I’m not sifting through fresh powder on Squaw Valley.  On the other hand, how can I complain when I’m hanging around in flannel pajama bottoms and Ugg boots, sipping coffee and “working” on my computer?  My household is pretty content.  My son is playing with baseball cards and writing down endless line-ups and my daughter is making breakfast for her baby dolls and getting them ready for school. 

Her preschool is open this week, but she is here with me because she has a fever of 102 (again)!  I’m not sure who is more disappointed.  Every time she coughs on me, I imagine those little germs floating here and there and I can’t help but think, NO!  Not again.  First she was sick, and then I got sick, now she is sick – please! This cycle has got to stop!  We are the healthy family, remember?  Yeah, who’s gonna believe me now?! 

I am feeling cooped up and restless.  We talked of going to the new section of the California Academy of Sciences museum.  Yeah, me and every other poor fool here in town with nothing to do on a rainy day.  But my daughter’s fever has nixed that idea.  We need to hit the grocery store and the library – but getting in and out of the car in the pouring rain and dealing with bags of soggy groceries and a sick child sounds less than appealing. 

So what would the ideal (true Zen) mom do?  Good question.  I bet she and her helpers would bake some cookies (the little one couldn’t help this time, but she still could nibble some cookie dough).  She would pop a batch of popcorn and snuggle up with them on the couch to watch some fun kid movie (one they hadn’t already seen 50 times).  She’d play endless rounds of Battleship, Monopoly, Candyland and Go Fish.  She’d read story after story – especially to the little (sick) one.  They could draw pictures, hang them up and have an art show.  They could find some new music to dance around to – maybe even make a new music CD. 

If this Zen Mama Wannabe did just ONE of those ideas, I’d probably make my kids’ day.  (Kinda gets you right there, doesn’t it?)   Okay, I’m not sure if I am feeling guilty or inspired, but I will get my act together and not let this week off get wasted. 

Kids will come back to school next week telling each other all about their adventures (Mexico, Tahoe, Sports Camp, etc).  My kids deserve to have a fun week too.  They’re not sitting around sulking or complaining.  They don’t mind that it is raining non-stop. They are thrilled just to be here at home, with me, with their toys.  Looks like the one that needs to get it together is me. 

There must be some ancient Zen proverb about embracing that which you are fighting against.  (If you know of one, send it along).  Until then, I shall try to make peace with ALL this rain and show my kids they have a mom that knows how to have fun come fair or foul weather. 

A Hallmark Moment

Apparently I didn’t get the memo.  You know, the one stating that Valentine’s Day has become an all important, national holiday in and of itself.  I’m convinced Hallmark was the main lobbyist behind it; nonetheless it seems to be official.  So are you caught up in all the Hullabaloo or are you taking a Stop the Insanity stand against all that gets put on February 14th?

Valentine’s Day in theory is a great idea for a day.  I am all in favor of professing your love and devotion to that special person (people) in your life.  I enjoy large bouquets of flowers, decadent chocolate desserts and candlelit dinners for two.  A sweet, sentimental card from your sweetheart telling you the 9 things he or she adores about you is even better.  What I am NOT in favor of is being told that this is what we must do.  Somehow the sentiment spills away when someone is practically being forced to do all of that – and more! 

“What?! He didn’t get you flowers??” one of my friends gasped to the other.  “Ooh – is he in the doghouse now or what!” 

Seriously?  Forgetting your birthday….  now THAT is doghouse material.  But not conforming to what FTD and Hallmark have deemed the “norm?”  I don’t know – I’d say, cut the guy some slack. (Am I just begging for Hate Mail for that one??)

Don’t get me wrong; I think it is a great day for dating folk and newlyweds.  Sometimes in those early stages it feels like you need an excuse to get all gushy and romantic.  Go for it – buy up the shop.  But once you have kids, do you know what Valentine’s Day really means?  It means “helping” your kids each write out 20 valentines (one for every kid in their class).  It means taping on the lollipop the other parents might hate you for (but all the kids go crazy over – and don’t you want the kids going crazy for YOUR Valentines?!) and sealing them up with the appropriate stickers (very important step).

And for this painfully slow process, I’m talking about using store bought cards.  We did the elaborate “cut out and make your own” one year and Martha Steward aside, I quickly learned there was NO benefit in time, effort and frustration energy it took – it was certainly not the Zen experience I was looking for and if you have ever been in a classroom where Valentines are being opened, you know first hand the kids could care less if it is home made or store bought (they actually seem to prefer the latter, especially if you hit it right with that year’s cool media brand).  Yes, I have learned my lesson the hard way.

Then there is the parent that told me one Valentine’s Day at Kindergarten pick-up, where she stood with her arms full of huge Mylar balloons, a big white teddy bear, and a large bouquet of lollipops (all for just her child!) that her poor little girl was crushed that morning when Daddy gave Mommy a Valentine’s Day present to open (containing a diamond bracelet) and there was nothing for her.  “My bad!” the mom told me as she waited, laden down with all these gifts to make up for it.  There were so many balloons several of the kids thought she was handing them out to everyone (including my son, who then asked if it was her birthday.  Ya would think). 

Perhaps I speak as a mom without a current babysitter (oops – I mean kid-sitter) to rely on to provide a romantic evening out this Saturday night.  But the whole thing feels a lot like New Year’s Eve to me – a night you are expected to go out and party and have fun, damn it, because after all that is what everyone does.  Yeah, I never have much liked doing what “they” recommend.  Must be the Aries in me.

This Zen Mama Wannabe loves a romantic evening out – but I don’t want or need someone else picking the night for me and telling me this is when it has to be.  I don’t need to bother with crowded restaurants and funky menus designed (and priced) just for this occasion.  I love love love bouquets of flowers – not so much when it is expected, but rather out of the blue, “just because.”  Now that makes my heart sing. 

Besides the exhausting school exchange, we sent Valentines to some family members (a much more fun endeavor) so they’d know we were thinking of them.  We bought my mom a little box of chocolate (her favorite) and surprised her with it while she was eating breakfast at her retirement home this morning.  She certainly seemed to be the envy of many of her friends and tablemates!

We also made sure we dropped off a little box to the receptionist there, who is ALWAYS giving my kids little treats when they come over to visit.  We signed the card, “What goes around, comes around!”  From the look on her face, I know my theory is true: it is the unexpected that seems to mean the most.   Feel free to pass it along to Hallmark; I don’t think they got that memo.

Don't Eat the Lo Mein!

Way back when, during our single days, my husband and I had a date at this local, upscale Chinese restaurant.  Nestled in the Hollywood Hills, it was a place we didn’t frequent THAT often, and I was excited to go – not only for the food, but also to enjoy the company of the dreamy guy seated across from me.  We laughed and talked (they used to call this flirting) sipping on our drinks until our food arrived: 2 yummy dishes to share (does it get much better than this??)

Funny what you can learn dining with a person, isn’t it?  My husband had this way of eating one thing and THEN eating the next.  He didn’t like mixing it up too much.  I, on the other hand, liked to take a bite of this, and a taste of that, and then back to the first, etc.  (Really summed up our personalities, I think, at least back then).  He started with the shrimp dish and continued with that, while I tried a few bites of the shrimp, then a few bites of the Lo Mein…and that’s when I discovered the Lo Mein was burned!  It was awful.  How in the world can you burn Lo Mein??  Especially here, at THIS place (after all, we’re not talkin’ cheap Lo Mein). 

So what did I do?  I did what any polite girl does on a date.  I ate the Lo Mein.  Maybe I commented to him about it (or not – I can’t remember).  What I do know is I was raised to eat what is put on your plate – you know, the whole good girls don’t make a fuss. 

My husband finished eating the shrimp dish and moved on to the Lo Mein.  He took one bite of it and announced it was horrible.  I agreed but before I could do or say much more, he had the waiter over to our table, where he politely but firmly said the Lo Mein tasted burned to the point where it was inedible.  In a few minutes a new plate of Lo Mein was put down before us – it LOOKED better and tasted the way Lo Mein should taste.  Problem solved.

But I couldn’t eat the new Lo Mein.  Why?  Because I had already filled myself up on the bad Lo Mein (and I couldn’t eat a whole other serving now just because now it tasted right).  I had suffered through the burnt Lo Mein ever so politely but where did it get me? 

My husband immediately seized that as an opportunity to help me learn – often after that, when situations came up, he would say to me. “Don’t eat the Lo Mein!”  Meaning don’t just go along with it , for the sake of being polite.  Speak up, ask for what you want – not obnoxiously, not to make a scene, but because you deserve to have it be right.

It was a hard lesson for this Zen Mama Wannabe to learn, and maybe it shouldn’t have been.  Maybe it is harder for women then men.  Maybe it is more challenging when you have grown up as a people pleaser, scared to be the one rocking the boat.  Maybe enough people do it badly (at the other extreme) and you find their behavior so rude and unattractive that you overcompensate – not realizing there is a middle ground.

Today, I am happy to report I would send back the Lo Mein without thinking twice (perhaps too apologetically as it still doesn’t come completely naturally to me, but it would definitely get sent back).  So progress is being made.  But more than that, I want my kids to learn the lesson it took me so long to get. 

I want my children to send back the Lo Mein. I want them to do it with tact and class (just like their father did). Most importantly, I don’t want them to suffer through something, only to find the good stuff was there all along – if only they would have asked. 

Physician, Heal Thyself

I was knocked on my back (literally) last week by that nasty flu bug going around.  4 days of a fever I just couldn’t break.  Trying to pull it together long enough to get myself up and in the car to take the kids to and from school.  Nothing like getting that sick – especially when you NEVER get sick – when your husband is on a 2-week business trip.  And why was I THIS sick?  Because I had failed to take my own advice! I knew it and I blew it.  Oh Physician, heal thyself!

I have been doing affirmations, talking to the Universe, praying to God, listening to my Wayne Dyer audio books (and don’t forget the smoke signals and drum beating, my husband adds).  I have been very clear on my intention.  I have been trying to stay positive.  (Mistake number 1.  No “try” allowed.  As my little girl keeps telling me: Do or do not. There is no try.  You gotta love a 4 year old who quotes Yoda!) 

I had been trying to visualize what I want to take place as if it had already happened.  I thought I was “in tune.”  Obviously now I get how desperate I sounded. I thought I had detached.  I thought I had let go of the rice. I didn’t get how tightly I was actually hanging on until my high fever smacked me down and made me see things a bit more clearly.  

I had been trying to force MY will on the situation.  I was, underneath all my Kumbaya singing, panicked and scared to death.  Scared it wasn’t going to work out the way I saw fit.  Scared it had to be this way or no way.  For all my enlightened thinking and bravado talk, deep down inside I was acting like a wimpering, pathetic fool.  “Maybe you should cut down on the coffee, okay Sweetie?” my husband advised from the road, 3000 miles away.  But that wasn’t the answer.  It ultimately took a smack down from the Universe in the form of this ugly flu bug to make me see the light.  Why must some of us always learn the hard way??

So I gave up.  “I am done!” I announced (although no one was around to hear me except the dog).  We’ll lose the chance to get the townhouse.  We’ll be stuck here in this house longer than we wanted (thank God, at least that it is a beautiful house).  We’ll deplete our nest egg.  Whatever!  I don’t care anymore.  (This is where you say you don’t care, but of course you really still do; some part of your delusional brain thinks you can trick the powers that be into believing that you have finally detached and let go.)

But as my high fever kept lingering and I saw my body not able to fight this off as quickly as I would have hoped, I realized it was time once and for all to let go.  I was trying to manifest great things.  I was trying to create a win-win-win situation for everyone involved.  I was putting ALL my energy into it.  “You didn’t just give 100 percent,” my husband told me, “You gave 500 percent!”  Yeah, and then I crashed and burned.

But this Zen Mama Wannabe learned some good lessons through it all.  When you find yourself wanting something that badly, it is your first clue to take a step back.  You cannot force your will on the Universe.  Goals are important.  So are positive thoughts, and lists, and affirmations.  But so is trusting that it will all unfold the way it is supposed to.  That’s why the quote my husband saw in that coffee shop rings so true for me.  Or, perhaps it’s just my wishful thinking.  It doesn’t matter.  All I can tell you is I am still trying doing my best (yes, remember Yoda) – and that right now, I am sure it is not yet the end. 

My New Favorite Saying

While in New York City on business this past week, my husband saw this sign posted in a coffee shop.  Guess he knew it was just what this Zen Mama Wannabe needed to hear, especially this past week!

It is all going to be ok in the end. 
If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.
 

Making a List - Checking it Twice

Want to learn more about my magic?  Last week, I mentioned a magic potion to combat fear, but this works all the time -- in the good times and the bad.  Any time.  Easy breezy to do – AND again, it works.  What are you waiting for?  Ready to give it a try?

Think of something you want.  A romantic partner, a new job, a new place to live (the possibilities are endless).  Write it down.  Then write down all the details.  What qualities does your ideal partner have?  What does this new job look like?  What would you need to be doing to have it be exactly the type of work you want?   Write down each thing.

Sometimes this is harder than you might think. So Michael Losier, author of the Law of Attraction, has a suggestion: first start by writing down all that you DON’T want.  What don’t you want in a job?  What don’t you want in a partner?  Sometimes it is easier to be clear on what we DON’T want than on what we do. 

Then take the list of all that you DON’T want, and turn each thing into what you ARE looking for.  If you wrote that you don’t want a job where you have to be in an office from 8-5 each day, then you might turn that around to say: I want a job where I have flexible hours and am in charge of my own schedule.  Just like that you have figured out what you do want.   And going forward, it is the positive side of your sheet you want to focus on. (Remember, you get what you think about). 

Way back in 1997, after a particularly disastrous relationship (as was sadly the one before that – just in different ways), I made a list of all that I wanted in a lifetime partner.  I wrote down 22 things, and put an asterisk next to 5 of them that were deal-breakers for me.  I pulled that list out again not too long ago and did a quick calculation:  I am married to a man that has 18 out of those 22 qualities/traits.  And of those big 5, he had (and still scores) a perfect 5 out of 5.  

It works. You have to know what you want. And be clear about it.  You have to put the request out there and be serious in your intent (and be aware that there is no room for shallow thinking).

I did this when we sold our house in LA and were in the process of moving up to Northern California.  After a particularly grueling house-hunting search, in which we found NOTHING, I felt defeated and depressed.  To combat that fear, I sat down and wrote out the things I really wanted in a house in the new town we were moving to.   I told myself if I could have the best-case scenario, what would it be?  Not fanciful, unrealistic stuff – but nevertheless I told myself to Dream Big.  There were certain things I would be really excited about having in our new home (or some that we absolutely had to have) – I listed them all. 

I won’t sugar coat it.  The process went down to the wire.  It was a high stress, Hail Mary situation.  For a while we thought we might end up in corporate housing – and even that didn’t seem like it would work (no vacancies at the inn)!  

But as it always happens, it worked out.  And later as I was unpacking boxes, I came across my list.  The house we were moving into had 10 out of the 11 things I had listed!  I am still just as astonished by that now as I was then!  These lists work!

So you would think, knowing what I know from my previous experience, that I would be writing these lists all the time.  Of course one would think that.  But I am a Wannabe, remember, struggling like everyone else (or maybe struggling more than everyone else  – it sure feels that way sometimes)! 

But what this Zen Mama Wannabe does know for sure is that these lists work, when made with the right intention. And I also know anyone can do them.  Male, female, young, old.  It only takes a pen and a piece of paper and a clear head.  Wanna see if it works for you?  Give it a try.  After all, you have nothing to lose and possibly much to gain! 

Michael Losier even has a worksheet you can print – for FREE – if you find it helps.  I decided I am saving my lists in a file folder – so I can easily refer back to them and check in with how I’m doing. I think you might be amazed at that which will come into your life if you only take the time to ask for it. 

The I LOVE YOU Contest

My little one had a lot to tell me in the bath last night.

Mama, have you heard about the I Love You contest??  (This is the part where I quickly scramble to figure out if this is something she heard about from someone at school, a video she’s watched, or if this is coming straight from her active little brain.  In this case, I decide it is the latter). 

Well…(deep breath and a pause as she begins to launch in to a long, detailed story.  Her brown eyes seem to twinkle although she is very serious.  She loves it when she has the floor – so to speak – when she doesn’t have to compete for talking time with her big brother)...there is this I Love You contest for kids and their moms.  Or dads.  Or their grandparents.  Or even for their babysitter.  (Ok, got that part).

You go outside, to a park I think, and everyone has a telescope.  And then the kids take turns gathering up all the love they have inside them and then shooting it up into the sky. (I think that explains why you need the telescopes – although I could be wrong – sometimes it is better not to ask for clarification).

And, Mama...(another dramatic pause)…whoever has the MOST love and makes it go the farthest wins.

And Mama, know what?  Sometimes the kids wear pink t-shirts with big hearts on them. (Oh really?  You HAVE to wear pink?  What if you don’t like pink – or don’t have any pink?  I couldn’t resist teasing her a bit). 

Well, the moms and dads don’t have to, but it helps if the kids do because after all, pink has so much love in it.  And it always helps if the moms wear the same as the kids because then you know they are on the same team.  (Ah yes, why didn’t I think of that?)

And Mama, you know what?  If we were in that contest, you and me, you know what?  I know we’d win!

Of course we would.  That much I know. 

Yes, an I Love You contest – this Zen Mama Wannabe thinks the idea has a lot of potential.  After all, worse case is that there would be a whole lot of love shooting up in the sky and landing all over the place – and maybe a whole lot of people in pink.  We all could do a lot worse.