When Did We Stop Getting Riled?

When I was sixteen years old, our school board decided to fire our principal, Mr. Fedor. As students, we didn’t know the details of the firing, but we knew two things:

Mr. Fedor was one of the coolest dudes around. He knew everyone’s names and actually took interest in the students’ lives (not in a creepy way, but in a dad-like way).

Mr. Fedor did not want to leave our school. He was being forced out by a politically motivated school board.

So, the students took action. We organized a campaign to save his job. We made signs and called local newspapers to cover the story. Lastly, we wrote speeches to deliver at the school board meeting that would determine his fate. There were so many of us in attendance at that board meeting that the overflow of students had to sit in the cafeteria, unable to fit into the meeting venue.

Looking back at this now, knowing life as an adult and vaguely remembering myself as a teenager, this seems like a very small moment in the history of my life. But back then, this protest was everything. We were all so passionate about our efforts.  It wasn’t just about winning. It was about our desire to be heard. It was a hope that the adults wouldn’t just think we were “dumb teens” who didn’t know what was best for them.

We lost.

Passion was really all we had to support our case, and it wasn’t enough that time. But the outpouring of love and support and community that we created by uniting was a palpable gift that we were able to take away with us that night. Parents, teachers, and even some board members who voted with us, all marveled at our maturity. Who would have thought that a bunch of high school students, ranging from fourteen to eighteen years old, could actually have something valid and important to contribute?

And now here I am, an adult with children and responsibilities. That fire that I had in high school is long gone, and to be honest, I’ve met very few adults who have been able to hang on to it. Don’t get me wrong, we still may be passionate about our children or a football team or a new movie that looks pretty good. But that teenage passion-the kind of passion you have when your view of the world is not all that complicated, when it’s easier to see what’s right and wrong because you don’t have to weigh the complexities of politics to find your moral compass, the kind of passion that gives you butterflies in your stomach and gets you so excited that you can’t sit down and process your thoughts because they are coming at you too fast-that is the passion that no longer visits us as adults.

Adults nowadays post memes about how tired they are or about how much wine they need to get through the day. Adults post these long diatribes on social media about how they feel about current events, all the while not having enough energy or passion to actually do anything that matters to fix what they are complaining about. Adults have become too busy with their lives to be passionate about truly making the changes they want to see.

While there will always be the teens who enjoy eating tide pods for fun, what I am witnessing at home with my very vocal, animal rights protesting, thirteen year old daughter, as well as what I am witnessing on my local Florida news channel these days, is that our teens have found the passion that we abandoned years ago. And as we are rapidly seeing, their passion is all that is needed to make a difference. Their passion is taking the world by storm. I hope you all have an umbrella.

*This piece was published on BLUNTmoms on March 7, 2018.

Maybe It Really Is Just a House

With Hurricane Irma recently devastating a large portion of the Caribbean and parts of Florida, it’s easy to view the catastrophic pictures safely from your unaffected area and empathize with those who lost everything. It’s also easy to say things like, “Your house is just a house” or “Lives are more important than things”.

So, when Governor Rick Scott made similar statements a few days before the hurricane hit our state, I wanted to shove cake into his mouth, Tina Fey style. My thoughts went something like this:

“Easy for him to say.  He probably has multiple homes. And if any of those homes are wrecked in this storm, they will probably be the first to be fixed. Someone should shove a piece of cake in his mouth just to shut him up.”

Then the next day came. With reports predicting a Category 3 or 4 for our area, I was faced with the decision of hunkering down or evacuating. I thought hard about the pros and cons of each, and eventually decided to leave. But here’s the confusing part. After making that decision, I realized that I never once worried about or felt sad about the possibility of potentially losing my house or the stuff in it. I called my dad and asked him if he thought it was weird that I wasn’t too concerned about the house (he said no). And that’s when I considered that maybe I was too quick to judge our Governor’s statement. Maybe a house really is just a house.

Although, it might be easier to say this now because I didn’t lose anything. But as I packed for our spontaneous road trip, I had to make quick decisions on what was important and what wasn’t. I didn’t stop to ponder about the good ol’ days in our home. I packed…quickly. And all I wound up bringing with me were my kids, my husband, our dog, some inappropriate clothes for weather that I did not anticipate while packing, and my work laptop (because, ya know, I’m dedicated). All of the stuff I’ve accumulated over the years meant nothing to me when choosing what went into the suitcase. And the walls that have sheltered us for nine years, where my children have spent most of their lives, where I’ve entertained friends and family, didn’t even cross my mind as we drove onto I-95 Northbound.

You see, I made peace with the potential of losing everything. And to my surprise, it was much easier than I expected. After truly thinking about my life in this house, I recognized that I’ve been able to make memories here and in many other places without getting emotionally attached to the structure I was in at the time. For instance, my oldest daughter was born in a house in New Jersey.  My youngest daughter was born in a house in Texas. On vacations, we’ve stayed in houses and hotels and bed and breakfasts, creating memories as we went along. And here’s the thing-throughout all of these life experiences, we never took the structures with us.

I’m not saying there isn’t sentimental value in a home.  Sure, there is. But if you are about to encounter a devastating situation like a hurricane, remind yourself to dig deep to come up with the answer to why these walls mean so much to you. I promise you that, like me, you will also come to the conclusion that it’s not the walls that are making you sad.  It’s the moments that you had inside of them with the people you love most. And lucky for us, those moments are still alive inside of us.

It turns out that a home doesn’t house all of your memories.  Your heart does.

*This piece was published on BLUNTmoms on September 27, 2017.

Anger Has Us All By the Balls

Is it just me, or is everyone angry about something? I’m not talking about being slightly offended by everything. I’m talking about full-blown, almost manic, anger. Obviously, United States politics is the most common source of this universal fury, but it also exists on less serious platforms.

Take blogging, for instance. Recently, I’ve read numerous opinion pieces on dress codes and the costs of back to school supply lists. Some of these posts generated some doozies in the comments sections. And in turn, those comments elicited snarky comebacks by those in support of the author, branding the “trolls” for having a difference in opinion. The comments sections of these blogs have almost become a fun sort of entertainment for onlookers…except…it’s not.

As I sit here angrily writing a blog post about anger, I have to grudgingly admit that anger seems to have us all by the balls. As a society, we are using it as a platform for hate, rather than a platform for action. There have been plenty of protests, yet little to no progress. So I have to ask-is anger enough?

Now, don’t get me wrong. I completely understand where you all are coming from when you boldly shout (in all caps), “IT’S IMPORTANT TO HAVE THESE CONVERSATIONS” or “WE NEED TO SHOW OUR CHILDREN THAT THEY CAN CHALLENGE WHAT THEY DON’T AGREE WITH” or “WE SHOULD ALL BE ANGRY AT THE STATE OF THE WORLD”!

YES! We all should be angry at the state of the world! YES! We do need to show our children that they can challenge what they don’t agree with! YES! We should be having tough conversations! But unfortunately, we’re not. As a blogger, I know that writing a blog or an opinion piece is usually just a form of preaching to the choir, as many of my readers feel the same way as I do. And, as previously explained, those who feel “attacked” by a blog go into “troll” mode. And these online “conversations” are really just one side arguing with the other about why their idea of what is right needs to be heard louder (and also, why the other person with the differing opinion is a dickhead). But even if the well-intended post, comments included, gets shared a thousand times, by next week, it will be forgotten. And guess what? Nothing changes.

The same thing goes for writing your opinion as your Facebook status and hoping others will “like” it, or changing your profile picture to support a various hot topic, or sharing a news article about our government, or signing an online petition. It’s important to acknowledge that social media does allow people to stay informed, but it also invites laziness into our lives by allowing us to read, feel something, comment, and then quickly move on to something else, like that hysterical meme that needs to be shared.

I’m not trying to pretend that I am not guilty of this and that I have the answers. I don’t. But I think the instant gratification movement is limiting our potential to act, at least in a civil manner. We are letting anger strangle us. And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of it. I am tired of being a mom raising two young girls who will eventually feel all of the negativity that social media or media in general is seducing us with. I’m tired of this anger being catapulted into our news stories and fueled further by our government, causing a further divide among the people of this country. I am tired of seeing comments on social media that begin with, “you’re an asshole if you believe xyz”. I’m tired of the lack of these “conversations” that we all seem to agree that we should be having. I am tired of seeing comfortable resolutions like protests and online petitions, on repeat. These things aren’t working. And like all of you, I don’t see a clear way forward through this haze.

But I’m willing to try.

I’m willing to throw out everything I know and start fresh. I’m willing to start communicating on new platforms so that I can start actually progressing, instead of just having a “conversation” about progressing. I am willing to stop relying on old methods for new results. I’m willing to put anger into my vice grip and squeeze back. Not to produce more anger, but to deflate it.

Now the only question left is-who’s with me?

*This piece was published on BLUNTmoms on August 26, 2017.

Beyond Type 1

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself” is one of my favorite pieces of parenting advice given by other parents. The unexpected life that unfolds before you as a parent can be overwhelming, so every once in a while, it’s important to focus on your own wellness. However, I can’t help but laugh at the thought of NOT taking care of myself, simply because, if I stopped, I’d be dead.

You see, I live with a chronic illness that doesn’t allow me to skip self-care. I have Type 1 diabetes, so naturally, I have this “me time” thing down to a science.

When I brought my first daughter home from the hospital, it was extremely difficult to accept that my health, not my child, was my number one priority. It was not an easy adjustment. But it’s probably safe to say that because I am a diabetic, I learned sooner than most moms that taking care of myself is not optional.  It is a requirement.

I know this sounds strange, but I actually feel lucky to have been diagnosed with a disease that promotes self-care. If you do diabetes right, you get rewarded with a longer life and fewer disease-related complications. Diabetes gives me control over how long I get to enjoy this earth. In comparison, I’ve watched family members and friends fight through cancer, which lowered their body’s defenses and limited their abilities to continue life as they knew it. They didn’t have the options that I have. For me, it all comes down to how well I choose to treat my body. Admittedly, I don’t always comply with the strict diet rules that come along with Type 1. However, I know better than to abuse myself.

Of course, I didn’t always live as I do now. In college, I pretended diabetes didn’t exist. I ate whatever I wanted and consumed alcohol like a true party girl. I took “being young and dumb” to a completely new level. My endocrinologist even banned me from her office.

Luckily for me, I grew up and have been taking small steps every day that enable me to take control of my disease and my life.

Like most moms, my daily routine includes showering, brushing my teeth, taking care of my family, and working a full time job. However, it also includes other responsibilities like testing my blood sugars, counting carbs to determine how much insulin I need for everything I eat, and logging all of my meals, numbers and carb to insulin ratios so I can detect patterns and adjust as needed.

Then there are the smaller “blink-and-you’ll-miss it” features of my life like when driving my children to school, I pack juice boxes in the car. Not for them, but for me…just in case I feel a low blood sugar episode coming on while I’m driving. Or when I decide to go for a run and have to test my blood sugars first to ensure I won’t go into a coma along the way. I also need to be selective when packing snacks as I need food that will help balance my blood sugar without causing hyperglycemia.

In addition to eating well and exercising, I also enjoy risky adventures like skydiving. And as freaky as skydiving may be to a non-diabetic, the stress that comes from that excitement also affects my blood sugars negatively. So, even when planning to do something fun that gives me butterflies in my stomach, I always have to be prepared.

My point is that even though I have a few more steps to complete each day, I don’t mind making certain accommodations for my disease. Type 1 diabetes does not define me, but it is a part of my life that needs to be acknowledged and taken care of on a daily basis. And as long as I continue to take the cliché parental advice and take care of myself, my illness won’t stop me from spending time with my two beautiful daughters, dancing with my husband, running a marathon or jumping out of an airplane.

Living with a chronic disease was not my choice, but living beyond Type 1 diabetes will forever be my goal.

*This piece was published on Reality Moms on April 5, 2017.

Squeezing the Chocolate: A Lesson in Moderation

Valentine’s Day has never been my thing.  But I appreciate the day for what it represents-an immense worldwide consumption of bright red, heart-shaped boxes filled with random selections of chocolate. While your outer dialogue may be filled with angst, disgust and temptation, your inner dialogue is more than likely shouting, “YAY!  CANDY!”

Though there may be some extreme health nuts attempting to create impressive, yet lackluster, low-calorie Valentine’s Day recipes, there are a boatload of us who will be happily digesting our five pound boxes of chocolate in a day or two, politely responding with the giggled retort, “I can’t believe I ate all that chocolate!  The diet starts tomorrow!”

So why do we feel guilty for the occasional indulgent behavior?  Has the health conscious world guilted us into feeling that all unhealthy food should be condemned? 

Is it an abomination to eat some chocolate on Valentine’s Day, even though our jeans are getting a little tighter?  Should we be food shamed if we don’t always eat organic? Does it say anything about who we are if, every so often, we choose processed or fast food?  To this, I say, “Hell no!”

When it comes to food, or even relationships and careers for that matter, is it not okay to do something that makes you happy, even though it may not be (gasp) the best fit for your life? 

After all, this isn’t the Truman Show, where everyone is secretly watching every bite, every step, every breath.  The only one who cares about your gluten/lactose/carb free life is you.  And if that life works for you, more power to you!  But if you live an extreme, “no treats allowed” life, constantly striving for the perfect body, perfect family, perfect existence, and all it leaves you with is misery and an empty, growling stomach, then what is the point?

This is your life-so live it, not for perfection, but for enjoyment.

I am a firm believer that doing what is healthy for your body is just as important as doing what is right for your mind.  And my mind is a big fan of the “everything in moderation” cliché. 

Moderation is tasting a few pieces of chocolate from the box, but knowing when to put the lid back on when it’s no longer enjoyable.  It is not extreme and doesn’t deprive you of anything.  Moderation allows for health without squandering the fun.  It replaces guilt with the simplicity of our choices.  Moderation lets our minds relax without the pressure of being punished if we splurge on something we truly crave.

Of course, we have all pinched and tasted a piece of chocolate, only to find it filled with mystery goo that tastes like someone at the candy factory “accidently” combined coffee with a teaspoon of Robitussin.  But we’ve also bit into that scrumptious piece of chocolate that we savored on our tongues, secretly wishing that the rest of the box was filled with only that kind. Taking chances and trying each piece of chocolate is addictive, a rite of passage as a woman, and according to Forrest Gump, a life lesson.

So I leave you with this.  Don’t punish yourself for not being able to fit into a certain size bikini this summer.  Don’t talk yourself out of something that makes you smile just because there are a few naysayers who live their lives more stringently.  Don’t live in a way that deprives you of your happiness-whatever that means for you.

Instead, rock what you’ve got, permit yourself to let go, be imperfect.  And when Valentine’s Day rolls around, make sure to squeeze every piece of chocolate in that heart-shaped box until you find the one you love.

*This piece was published on Reality Moms on February 1, 2017.

Choosing Your Fitness Team

I graduated from Syracuse University with a degree in Nutrition, but it only took six short months after being on the job to abandon that degree. Though the field wasn’t for me, I learned a lot and can happily apply that knowledge to my own life. So, it wasn’t a total loss.

Recently, a local personal trainer displayed a nutrition certificate that he was able to obtain from an online course in a few months. While I applaud his efforts to further educate himself about the world in which he works, I feel it is part of my old job to tell my fitness buddies to proceed with caution when accepting a diet plan or diet advice from a personal trainer.

Back in the day, I worked as a nutritionist for a doctor. When patients came to me, I already had access to their charts-medical history, family medical history, blood work, blood pressure, and current medications that the patient was taking. Based on all of this information, I was able to make informed decisions on realistic diet recommendations for each person.

In contrast, other than whatever information you decide to divulge about yourself, personal trainers do not have any information on you in which to base their nutritional guidance, nor are they trained to deal with any underlying medical conditions. The blunt truth is that even if they did have your chart work, they would not be able to properly utilize the information to give you a diet plan that is truly best for your body.

Before I discovered running, I tried the gym thing…twice. I hired personal trainers both times. The first personal trainer I hired suggested protein bars (which were actually loaded with sugar) prior to the workout. I declined and just stuck with a snack that was more appropriate for me. However, the second trainer (let's call him Tim) encouraged me to try his diet, which pretty much consisted of protein shakes and fruit. Other than my height and weight and a quick BMI calculation, Tim had no further details about my health. So, when I decided to inform him that I was a type 1 diabetic, I expected him to alter his diet advice. Instead, Tim's response was, “Great! So, a protein based diet is perfect for you!” I was amazed that, even with his obvious lack of knowledge, he was still confident in his advice...for a type 1 diabetic.

It was then that I started wondering about the accountability of personal trainers. What if I didn’t tell Tim about my health, followed his diet, and wound up in the hospital? Is he liable for giving me a diet plan that he technically is not licensed to give? Or does the responsibility lie on the client to disclose medical issues before going on a diet suggested by an unqualified person? I don’t know the answers to these questions. But my gut feeling is that a trainer is the expert at fixing the outside of your body, while a dietitian is better qualified to fix the inside.

I'm hopeful that my experience with Tim isn’t the norm. But I think it's important to be cautious when accepting generic plans. This is not only limited to advice from personal trainers, but also from your buddies who swear by products that incorporate shakes, pills or some other type of fad into your diet. While I'm sure their intent is not malicious, before committing to a product or a plan suggested by a non-professional, ask yourself if you could see yourself using this plan/product for the rest of your life. Ask yourself if the person promoting it is qualified to tell you what to put inside your body. Ask yourself if you are 100% sure that it is safe...for you. If you are unsure of your answers to these questions, then I urge you to move on and consult with a registered dietitian, or at the very least, your doctor, to find a plan tailored to your body and to your health goals.

(Tip: There is a difference between learning how to eat right and going on a diet. Sometimes, they aren't the same thing. Keep this in mind when making food and supplement choices.)

I am a huge supporter of being healthy and fit, but I firmly believe that getting there the right way is imperative. Seeking the right health plan for yourself may take more work than simply ingesting a shake or signing up for a gym. Remember- this is your fitness journey, and cutting corners shouldn't be an option.

It's hard to lose if you surround yourself with professionals who are most capable of devising the best plan for you. So, choose your team wisely, and then simply follow your sculpted path to the healthiest you.

Good luck and happy new year!

*This piece was published on Reality Moms on January 7, 2017.

The 2016 Holiday Gift Guide for Oddballs

It's the holiday season, folks! And naturally, that means that bloggers are out in full force with our annual holiday gift guides! (Insert eye roll here.)

I've never done a gift guide before. And lucky for you, I will NOT be making this an annual thing (or at least I'm not planning on it at the moment). But in the spirit of doing things my own way, I give you my 2016 Top Ten Holiday Gift Guide for Oddballs (Dave Letterman style). Drum roll please...

Gift #10 (for parents everywhere): How to Traumatize Your Children, $11.03

I mean, all of our kids are eventually going to blame us for something we did wrong as parents, right? Why not beat them to the punch this holiday season by purchasing this book with "seven proven methods to help you screw up your kids"? You're welcome.

photo courtesy of Amazon.com

Gift #9 (for the bike enthusiast): Bike Tail Lights, $7.96

My husband happens to be a cyclist. And what is better than a pair of balls...for your bike? These would be great for someone who is into cycling...or balls...or both.

photo courtesy of Delomo

photo courtesy of Delomo

 Gift #8 (for your pets): The Pet Umbrella, $9.99

How many times has your poor dog taken a dump in the rain while you hog up all of the umbrella? I mean, can you imagine doing your business while a monsoon drenches you? Well...pet lovers, rejoice! There finally is a solution! Buy Fido the coverage he's been dreaming of!

photo courtesy of Amazon.com

Gift #7 (for the traveler): Travel Belt Hitch, $17.95

With long lines, hordes of frustrated people, and full body scans, airports are nightmares come to life. But the real problem with airport travel is that you never get to stand around with free use of your hands, right? Enter the travel belt hitch. You want to text while drinking coffee? No problem. You want to wash both hands at the same time without having your luggage be deemed as suspicious? Well...here's the answer.

photo courtesy of odditymall.com

Gift #6 (for the beer lover with a sweet tooth): Draft Beer Jelly Belly, $2.59

Beer and candy? Well...I guess it would depend on how drunk I am. But if you need a gift for a beer lover, I'm sure purchasing another boring beer mug is not an option you want to explore again. So, why not try these beer flavored jelly beans? 

photo courtesy of offthewagonshop.com

Gift #5 (for the dreamer): Bag of Unicorn Farts, $10.99

In the land of the dreamers, unicorns, rainbows, elves and fairies live in a very real place - right here on Earth. And if they are Earth dwellers, then I imagine these mystical creatures also have bodily functions. But because they are so much more impressive than the human race, their farts get massed produced and sold in bags for profit. I'm not sure what the bag will smell like, or what the benefit of owning this would be, but I'm sure if you have a dreamer in your life, he/she will figure it out. 

photo courtesy of Amazon.com

Gift #4 (for the neat freak): Nail Capsule Fingernail Catcher, $8

Do you know someone who would rather die than find a nail clipping on her floor? Neither do I. But just in case, check out this little contraption that keeps all of your nail clippings tidily in place.

photo courtesy of odditymall.com

Gift #3 (for the poop lovers): Doody Head Game, $11.48

Poop paraphernalia is everywhere. I can't get away from it. My nine year old daughter thinks poop emojis are "cute". And because my husband always says, "If you can't get out of it, get into it", I have a feeling this game will be under our Christmas tree this year. If you know a poop obsessed kid (or adult), this riveting poophead game is the way to go.

photo courtesy of Amazon.com

Gift #2 (for the crazy cat lady in your life): Crazy Cat Lady Action Figure, $14.99

I don't think this gift needs any explanation whatsoever. Although, I take issue with the "action" figure description. I'm not sure what type of action this doll would attempt to maneuver. Does she climb trees in her robe, searching for a cat in need? Does she gallantly tear her robe open, unveiling a giant cat symbol that shines in the night sky, allowing all of the cats in the neighborhood to know that she's the lady with the food? I'm baffled by her superhero merchandising status. But if you know a cat lady who needs a reminder of why she's so awesome, this is the perfect gift!

photo courtesy of offthewagonshop.com

And the #1 oddball gift of the 2016 holiday season goes to...

Wash Your Nuts Soap on a Rope, $14.99

If you like sex as much as I do, then you know that your hormones want what they want when they want it. Even if your man recently finished a two-hour workout, you want him...now. Though your hormones may not mind schweddy balls, your mind is a different matter. And as said best by Margaret Cho, "Wash EEEEET!"

Which is why Wash Your Nuts is the perfect friendly reminder, as well as the perfect nutty stocking stuffer for your man!

photo courtesy of perpetualkid.com

And once again, thanks for being randomly amused with me! Happy holidays and happy shopping!

*This piece was published on Sammiches and Psych Meds on December 19, 2016.

Why I Don't Go To Office Parties

As a society, we tend to spend the majority of our waking hours at work. Americans have even adopted phrases like “work-wife” and “work-husband” to describe our co-workers who have become alternatives to our actual families. And with the holiday season approaching, there are sure to be bigger year-end projects, longer nights on the job, and, of course, holiday office parties.

As a mom working in the corporate world, my calendar is already bursting with holiday fun like ugly sweater parties, cookie-swapping parties, the school holiday choir concert, pictures with Santa, and holiday bake sales. So you’ll understand if I’m not exactly thrilled about squeezing an office party into my schedule.

You would think that because I have been working from home for quite a few years now, I would have successfully dodged the torturous bullet of office functions. Nope. I’m not that lucky. The hubs has already received a heads up about his company’s’ holiday dinner. And now, all we need is a tactful but firm way of saying “absolutely not.”

Before raising your pitch forks, you’ll be happy to know that we made an appearance at last year’s gala. But it is my opinion that if your office holds a corporate event at a buffet-style restaurant with the word “corral” in it, you should automatically be excused from all extracurricular work activities…forever. Of course, not everyone shares this view, which is why, this year, crafting the perfect holiday excuse was our first priority.

Though I have been blessed with a husband who prefers a cordial RSVP, politely declining an invitation has become a challenge. Admittedly, if it were up to me, I would just say no. I mean, why do people always feel the need to follow a “no” with a justification of the “no”?

I’ll tell you why. Because nowadays, if you don’t give a reason, people are nosey enough to ask for one. And some bosses are so dedicated to your attendance, they even come up with solutions to your elaborate excuses.

Example #1: Have Granny’s 70^th birthday to attend? That’s okay! You can just come to the office party for a little while! (Disclaimer: This one can backfire, as my husband’s boss once refused to give him his holiday bonus for leaving the party early.)

Example #2: Have concert/game tickets on the same night? Worry not! Stop in for a quick bite to eat before the event! Those things never start on time anyway!

Example #3: Having oral surgery the morning of the party? No problem! We love seeing your face, no matter how swollen!

Some of you may be asking, “Why not tell the truth?”

We tried.

When my husband attempted to respectfully decline this year’s shindig by straightforwardly saying, “I would really like to spend that time with my wife and kids,” his employer’s rebuttal was, “Well…bring them”!

I know what you’re thinking. This is a generous offer. But think about it. Bringing your spouse to a work soiree, where she gets to spend a night with your acquaintances making small talk, all while smiling with clenched teeth, quietly scolding your bored and uncomfortably dressed kids who are naturally misbehaving, is not a good idea. As all parents know, bored kids at a function that really should be “adults only” is not beneficial to anyone involved.

As you can see, finding ways to avoid a holiday office bash can become a full-time job. And I’m sure there are plenty of people who truly love the networking opportunities, free booze, and drunken karaoke duets that come along with an office party. And that’s fine. Really.

But during the holidays, when the majority of us are feeling overwhelmingly stretched too thin, I think it’s important to spend our free time AWAY from work, with the people who calm our hearts.

Even though your boss may feel slighted if you successfully find a way to escape the annual celebration, try not to feel bad too bad about it. Obligation should never play a role in determining how you spend your time. So, go ahead and enjoy this holiday season your way. No excuses.

*This piece was published on Sammiches and Psych Meds on December 16, 2016.

Does It Really Pay to Be Nice?

When it comes to customer service, I have a certain amount of tolerance for inadequacy. But once that level has been met, I am a…well…what’s a good word for it?…complete bitch. 

Just the other day, I may or may not have chewed out a librarian over the phone. You see, I placed a book on hold three weeks ago. I checked online each week and the status of the book was “in,” but I was still sans book. After calling once (and being transferred to three people), I was told to call back the next day. Fine, no problem. However, when the next day rolled around, I called again and was transferred to three different people. Let’s just say that out of a total of six librarians in two days, persons five and six were not so lucky when it came to my patience.

Some of my minor annoyances included the number of times I was transferred and the number of times I had to give my account number and retell my story. However, after librarian #5 told me to call back every day after 2 pm to check on my book, that’s where annoyance morphed into bitch mode.

My response was, “So, it is my job to call you every day at 2 pm to remind you how to do your job in locating this book?” She told me that it wasn’t my job, but she was out of suggestions, as they were unsure of the book’s whereabouts. She then blindly tossed me over to her manager.

So librarian #6 got on the phone, and I had to angrily explain, yet again, the entire story. She acknowledged that it was not my job to call every day, but also noted that her employee did not tell me to do that. In other words, I’m a liar and entirely made that up. We ended the call without a resolution. But 15 minutes later, librarian #6 called me back, telling me she found the book. And then she added, “Doesn’t it pay to be nice?”

When I asked her why she felt the need to add that little quip, she said I was being rude, and that everyone who works there is really nice. So I responded with, “Well, apart from being incompetent liars, sure, your staff is lovely. But to answer your question, no, it doesn’t pay to be nice. I was nice for three weeks. But when I called and was rude, you found the ‘missing’ book in 15 minutes.” She was silent, conceding the conversational “win,” so we ended the call.

After this whole ordeal, I felt slightly bad about being impolite to librarian #5 and librarian #6. But at the same time, it really made me wonder about the world we are living in. In this case, had I not been rude, I most likely would not have gotten that book. And I have been noticing more and more in life that if you don’t call people out on their bullshit, nothing ever changes.

So what do we do? Do we turn on the asshole switch when we want to see a better or different outcome, assuming that people only respond when unpleasant behavior applies itself to a situation? Or do we just try to be nice, not ruffle any feathers and accept things as they are?

My experience with life thus far has taught me that it’s always better to turn on that switch. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a fan of being an intentional bi-atch. I try to listen to the “be nice because you never know what others are going through” mantra. My intention is to always start off on the right foot. But most of the time, I wind up disappointed that I wasted my niceness.

So, does it really pay to be nice? The verdict is still out. But I remain hopeful that maybe one day, I’ll discover a happy medium that allows me to get the desired results without flipping that switch.

*This piece was published on Sammiches and Psych Meds on October 28, 2016.

Modern Day Super Heroes (Sort Of)

As a kid, I thought heroes were rare creatures born with special powers on planets that I couldn’t pronounce. As I got a bit older, I began applying the term to regular people (dwelling on planet Earth) who make lives better for others. But now that I’m forty, and obviously wiser than I’ve ever been, I now realize that heroes are everywhere.

For instance, the other day, my husband made sure to tell me all about how he remembered to take the garbage out. I mean, move over Thor, right? I should have made my dude a cape right then and there, but instead, I started thinking about the heroes I come across on a daily basis. So, without further ado, here are five of my favorite heroes (not including my husband who is the best garbage taker-outer ever) who could totally use a cape.

These folks have mad super powers:

Hero #1 – I’ll call him Super Fan Dave. This is the guy who obnoxiously predicts every piece of music that will be a number one hit on the radio for whichever band he has claimed to discover. Super Fan Dave knows a band’s songs before everyone else…ever…like even before the record company found the band playing with broken strings, a washboard and a tambourine in a seedy bar in Kentucky. Yup, Super Fan Dave was first, and therefore, he could definitely use a cape.

Hero #2 – Super Maybe Bitch. She is the hero in your life who tragically “suffers” from resting bitch face. These ladies wave their RBF flags high, constantly alerting people to their condition. I’m not sure I get it, as it seems weird to me to flaunt your bitch face, especially if you really are a nice person. Does having RBF make you feel more intimidating or badass? I don’t know. But hey, if it’s something you’re that proud of, maybe you could use a cape.

Hero #3 – Super Worker Bee. This busy insect is the hero who works seventy hours a week (including weekends) and only sleeps for one hour at a time, but somehow still manages to tell the Facebook community about how tired she is. I am guilty of this. Working long hours with only a smidgen of sleep sucks. But telling everyone about it somehow gives me a virtual pat on the back. So yeah, hand me my cape so I can have a nap in it.

Hero #4 – Super Charity Chick. This rare bird thinks it’s a good idea to declare herself a benevolent individual by posting comments ensuring everyone knows she just did a few hours of charity work. Sometimes, she even finds it necessary to tell the world how big her heart is. Okay, so maybe she deserves a cape, but not if she’s going to be all braggy assed about it.

Hero #5 – Super Smarty Pants. This genius is a true hero to me because she has ALL of the answers, ALL of the time. She usually starts sentences that sound something like, “If that were my kid, I would never let her out of my sight.” And it doesn’t stop there. She will also give you real life accounts of what a tragic mistake it would be to allow your kid to ride a bike, play outside or watch gorillas at a zoo without constant supervision. She may even leave you wondering if there is a way to surgically glue your eyes to your kid. Super Smarty Pants is a phenomenon. And since she has life all figured out, she’s probably already wearing a cape.

Sometimes, being surrounded by all of these champions of life can really make me miss the humble heroes of old. But I will not fear. The new version of heroes are here. And they are proudly clogging up my daily newsfeed, one cape-worthy act at a time.

*This piece was published on BLUNTmoms on October 18, 2016.