Project Repat

Let me start by saying that I’ve always wanted a t-shirt quilt.  At one point, I even thought I would take a quilting class just so that I could try to make one on my own.  That idea quickly fizzled.  Luckily for me, I recently found an affordable way to have my coveted t-shirt quilt made!  While I know that there are plenty of similar businesses out there who can turn your t-shirts into snuggable blankets of memories, if you are in the market for a t-shirt quilt, I urge you to choose Project Repat. 

The product is remarkable, and I’ll get to that shortly, but it’s truly the organization that is most impressive.  

The brand name “repat” actually stands for repatriate, which means to return to the country of origin.  One of the major goals of this little-engine-that-could organization was to help bring back textile jobs to the United States, while also allowing our citizens to work for a fair wage and full benefits.  In addition to this feat, each yard of the PolarTec fleece used for the backs of these blankets is made out of twenty-three recycled plastic bottles.  So not only is this company helping with job creation in our country, they are also helping our environment in the process.

As for the blanket, what can I say?  It is so much better than I thought it would be!  It’s soft, comfortable, and the quality is outstanding.  I chose to use some of my favorite running shirts to pay homage to my running days.  Seeing my racing and training shirts together made me so proud of my accomplishments!  The sentimental value of this blanket is priceless, and I couldn’t be more thankful to Project Repat for being so careful with all of my memories. 

I chose a lap size blanket, which contains 16 panels, in the standard 12x12 panel size.  The fleece backing comes in multiple colors such as magenta, red, black, gray and blue.  The price for this size is $74.99.  There are also twin, full, queen and king sizes available that range from $109.99-$239.99 (if using the standard size panels).  I think the prices are really affordable for the quality product that you receive.  Not to mention, you are helping a fellow American out by purchasing from Project Repat.

These t-shirt quilts make very unique gifts!  Please feel free to use my 15% discount code “repatfriend” when ordering yours!

As always, thanks for reading!  Please go check out the Project Repat web site!  

http://www.projectrepat.com/

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free product in return for my honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed here are my own and not influenced by the developing company or any of its affiliates.

Thrift Store Shopping: Is It Worth the Deal?

Over the holiday season, I needed some fabric to make some Christmas crafts with my children.  Rather than drive all the way to the fabric store, I decided to visit the local thrift shop.  I scored some great deals on fabric and also left with a Christmas sweater that I would later tear up to use for the crafts as well. After our family craft time was over, we marveled at the beautiful things we were able to make with the thrift store fabric.  However, a short while later, I started feeling guilty about my purchase. 

I frequently drop off outgrown clothes, toys, bikes and even furniture to the local thrift stores in my area.  I always leave feeling a little bit better because I am hopeful that these things will go to children or families in need.  However, I now realize that this may not be the case at all.  These items may be going to people who make a decent living and just want a bargain.  And that makes me a little sad. 

Thanks to Macklemore, thrift store shopping has become quite trendy.   Recently, there was even an article in our local paper touting a thrift shop’s “high-quality merchandise at low prices”.  I have always been one to think that thrift stores were created, not for finding bargains, but for people who don’t have the means to shop anywhere else.  The more I thought about this, the more terrible I felt about tearing up that Christmas sweater so that my family could make ornaments out of it.

I started thinking about all of the people who have the means to go elsewhere, but who frequent the thrift shops to find deals.  I realize that thrift shops are businesses, and the owners probably don’t care one way or another who does the purchasing of the items in their stores.  But the items for sale in thrift shops are usually one of a kind.  It’s not like going to Walmart and having twelve bikes to choose from that all cost fifty dollars.  A thrift shop may only have one bike for fifteen dollars.  And in my mind, I would feel awful buying that fifteen dollar bike when there might be a kid out there who can’t afford the Walmart special and was saving his money for the thrift shop bargain bike.  Along the same lines, I wonder if someone had their eye on the Christmas sweater that I took home for three dollars and tore apart.  Is there some sort of moral code when shopping in thrift stores?  Are people who need to shop at thrift stores offended by the bargain hunters?  Do they care one way or the other?

In today’s struggling economy, I completely understand the need for a good deal for everyone, regardless of your financial status.  However, if you can afford to go elsewhere, is that the better moral choice?  Or is a bargain a bargain, regardless of the type of store?  I don’t know the answers to these questions, but personally, I now know how I feel about bargain hunting.  Going forward, I will make the longer car trip to the fabric store.  I will find my “bargains” at Walmart or on Ebay.  I will leave the joy of finding a great deal at the thrift shop for those who could really use a spring in their step. 

Embrace Health

The New Year has begun, and with that, so has the exercise uprising.  I have lived a healthy lifestyle for quite a few years now, so getting fit is never on my resolution list.  With that said, I am proud of our society as, in more recent years, the focus is slowly turning toward health and fitness.  I applaud those who want to live a healthy lifestyle, rather than a sporadic dieting lifestyle.

However, there was a time when weight and dress size mattered to me.  About six years ago, I went through a divorce.  Even though the divorce was my idea, it was still a very hard decision, which led me to the “divorce diet”.  Those of you who are familiar with this diet know that it is not intentional to lose weight.  Due to stress, I survived on coffee, cigarettes and maybe a very small meal every day for almost a year.  Other than college, it was the unhealthiest time of my life.  (As an aside, since then, I stopped smoking, became a runner, and most recently, I’m trying out cycling.)  I lost an insane amount of weight and dropped to a size zero.  I know, I know.  Boohoo for me.  I was a zero.  And yes, I know people who struggle with larger sizes don’t pity me at all.  However, I’m not looking for pity.  I just want to say that being a size zero wasn’t easy.  Throughout my life, I have been a number of different sizes (up to and including size 10).  But I have to say that zero was the hardest.  Maybe it had something to do with how I was feeling at the time, or that by definition, zero means nothing.  Zero.  Zip.  Nada.  And I knew that I was more than that.

I remember thinking that my frame, though small, had carried two healthy, beautiful children.  It held up through the awful things that were digested during my four years at Syracuse University.  It survived during my “club girl” phase.  It let me continue dancing at parties and weddings throughout my adult life.  Since I was four years old, it had carried me through the good and bad times living with Type 1 Diabetes. In other words, I realized that I was more than the size on my jeans.

Once the divorce was over, I became a serious runner and gained back some weight and added some muscle.  I graduated to a size two, where I sit firmly today.  But the biggest difference is that I am now a strong believer that size doesn’t matter.  I believe that health is the most important thing. 

I also know that in recent years, the word “curvy” has been tossed around quite often.  I refer to myself as curvy as, even though I am small, my hip to waist ratio is more J-Lo than Twiggy.  I think the definition of curvy is different depending on which woman you speak with.  But I ask this of all of the curvy women out there-don’t hide behind the word “curvy”.  If you are curvy and HEALTHY, then by all means, celebrate that!  But if you are simply overweight and are calling yourself “curvy”, own that, and start entertaining the idea of being healthy instead.  What I am trying to say, in a very long winded way, is that small sizes, large sizes, being curvy, or being too thin is all irrelevant if it isn’t healthy. Embrace health.  If you aren’t healthy, change it before being unhealthy changes you.  Change it, not because of how you look in your jeans,   but because your body has brought you through your life, and you owe it to your body to treat it well.  Your body has come with you through your journey.  It has taken your punches for you.  And it will never let you down, as long as you don’t let it.

My 10 Year Old is An Atheist

A few weeks ago, my ten year old daughter proclaimed that she is an atheist.  My daughter is not one to take a stand on something without doing her research.  Just last year, after watching Blackfish, she did about a month’s worth of internet research, wrote a non-fiction children’s book about whales, and she told me that she will never step foot in a Sea World park ever again (not just Sea World, but any park that Sea World owns).  She was nine at the time.  So, when she announced that she believes in science, rather than God, I knew that she had already made up her mind.

I have been racking my brain on how this could have happened.  I was quick to blame her father, my ex-husband, as he is an atheist.  But then I remembered that shortly after my first daughter was born, we had a very enlightening conversation about religion.  His view was not what one would expect of an atheist.  He had very strong feelings on how we should raise our children.  And his feelings were that they should be raised Catholic.  I remember this conversation as if it were yesterday.  He explained that his entire life was lived in fear of death.  In his mind, everything he did was a risk, because ultimately, everything could result in death.  And because he didn’t believe in God or in heaven, he was missing a very important element in his life.  That element was hope.  He said that he didn’t want his children growing up without hope that there is something better after we leave this planet.  He didn’t want his daughters to be scared to die, and therefore, scared to live.  Even if hope was all they got from religion, that was good enough for him.  So, off we went, Catholic and Atheist, and had our children christened.

At that time, I was an avid, church-going Catholic.  Since then, I have strayed from the church, but not from God.  To this day, I still pray almost daily, and I still have faith that there is a God who listens and answers.  However, I never continued my girls’ religious educations because of my own personal feelings about organized religion.  I stopped sharing my beliefs with my children because I wasn’t certain that the teachings that I learned of as a child were the right way to teach my children about God.  Although I still know when to sit, stand and kneel at church, a lot of the information that I once knew about God is no longer a part of my memory, and therefore, doesn’t make me a great teacher.  And because I had a friend who decided on a religion later on in her life, I figured that, like her, my children would benefit from making their own choices about religion when the time was right for them. 

It looks like that time has come earlier than I expected.  Although my seven year old staunchly believes in God and in heaven, my ten year old firmly does not.  And of course, it’s my fault for not guiding her toward a more hopeful kind of life-a life with God.  I guess I just never thought that a little girl who still believes in Santa, the Elf on the Shelf, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy would go the opposite way when it came to believing in God.

So, now I’m left with guilt and the nagging feeling that I need to do something to show her that God is the right choice.  Part of me wants to start going back to church, regardless of how hypocritical that would be.  But another part of me thinks that forcing my beliefs on my daughter isn’t the right choice either.  The truth of the matter is that no human being has ever died and come back to tell us all whether there is a God or not.  Both science and religion have strong arguments on how we got here.  It’s a lot like the chicken and the egg argument.  So, I can’t have a conversation with my daughter telling her that I have all of the answers.  No one does.  And I also can’t have a conversation with her telling her that my answers are better or more believable than hers, because this isn’t about my perception.  It’s about hers.   

Because I have never spoken to her about what I believe, she’s only heard about what her father believes-and that is in science.  I think the only thing I can do at this point is let her into my world.  I can let her know that I have a belief that is different from hers and different from what most religious people believe.  Maybe I can share my thoughts with her, and maybe we can research all of the different religions-everything from Buddhism to Judaism to Islam.   In the end, she will still be the one to make up her own mind.  But at least this way, she will have more options to choose from.  And who knows?  Maybe she’ll do her own research one day and decide that science and religion don’t necessarily have to be mutually exclusive after all.

Elf on the Shelf Ideas (With a Note to the Haters)

This isn’t really a blog, as it is a collection of my favorite Elf on the Shelf ideas.  Most of these are original, but I also put my own spin on some of my favorites from other Elf on the Shelfers. 

I know that some moms hate people like me, saying that I am an overachiever or a show off.  The truth of the matter is that when it’s Elf on the Shelf season, my children literally burst out of bed with excitement, ready to look for our elf, Rose.  I have to ask the haters a question. Can you imagine being so excited about something every day for one month that you literally jump out of bed for it?  Watching their excitement is the number one reason for why I do it. 

The second (and not nearly as important) reason is that I have a very technical job with zero creativity involved.  I look forward to this time of year so that I can let my creative juices flow.  Is that such a bad thing?

And yes, I post these pictures to Facebook almost daily.  I do this because I have tons of other mom friends who also do wacky things with the Elf on the Shelf, and I have benefited greatly from their ideas as well.  I treat it like a way to share Elf on the Shelf ideas.  I’m not trying to be arrogant.  I’m trying to be helpful. 

So, for all of you haters out there, cut us “overachievers” some slack.  We do this because it is fun for everyone involved.  And unless you are against other families having fun in different ways than you might do it in your home, can we please stop the mommy shaming when it’s Elf on the Shelf time?

Merry Christmas to all!  

snowing in Florida

The Lion King reenactment with a Hershey's kiss playing the role of Simba

The Hunger Games

Gymnastics Meet

Science Fair

Having a pet is not always fun

trapped by Spiderman

Ronda Rousey vs. Elsa UFC- MMA

Elf television

tic-tac-toe with Santa

fruit loop volcano

snowball fight

tree climbing

uh oh!

Lady and the Tramp

Minecraft

Target practice with Merida

Madagascar

how low can you go?

reminiscing over last year's visit

peppermint craft

shopping

arriving in a box

stacking books in Christmas shapes

bowling with chocolate

Grumpy Cat

lighting the fairy door

emoji kingdom

igloo in the freezer

everyone loves mistletoe

camping

game night

sitting pretty

in the band

Where's Waldo?

plane ride back to the North Pole

Audrey Brooke Cici Leather Flat

I have been on the lookout for comfortable pointed toe black flats for about two years now.  Maybe the fact that pointed toe shoes and comfort don’t ever belong in the same sentence might account for the longevity of my quest to find the perfect pair.  Not only did I want the elusive, comfy, black, pointed toe flat shoes, but I also wanted the perfect amount of toe cleavage.  Hey-if I have to wear flats, they’re sure as hell going to be sexy.  Anyway, over the years, I have tried on numerous pairs that tried to fit the bill, but failed.  I’ve tried on round toe flats with perfect cleavage; I‘ve tried on pointed toe flats that gave me blisters from just trying them on; I’ve tried on square toe flats that made me feel like a pilgrim.  You get the point, right?

All of my disappointment was replaced with excitement a few weeks ago when I had the privilege of visiting one of my favorite shoe stores-DSW.   I took my time and browsed through aisles and aisles of amazing shoes when, lo and behold, there they were!  The first thing I do when I am specifically looking for comfortable shoes is my “bend” test.  Once the shoe passes this test, I try it on. See the infamous bend test picture below.

These shoes were perfect!  Despite them not having my size, the smaller size shoe was extremely comfortable and had just enough toe cleavage!  Score!  Even though I left the store without them, I ordered them online as soon as I got home.  Once I got them in the mail, I took them out of the box and wore them all day long.  And guess what?  No blisters! 

So, if you are looking for a really comfortable, yet sexy flat shoe, I would definitely recommend that you treat yourself for the holiday season!  They are called the Audrey Brooke Cici leather flat, and they were only $49.95!

Happy shopping!

The List Phenomenon

“8 Beers You Should Stop Drinking Immediately”

“11 Things You Didn’t Know About Lucky Charms”

“3 Reasons to Never Open a Bank Account”

“7 Reasons to Never Drink Bottled Water Again”

“Top Ten Reasons Why Bottled Water is a Blessing”

“7 Evidence Based Health Reasons to Eat Meat”

“10 Reasons to Stop Eating Meat”

“6 Reasons to Use Organic Makeup”

Are any of you as tired of these lists as I am?  They are everywhere!  And for the most part, the content in these articles are mostly the opinions of the authors or bloggers, loaded with “facts” that can be otherwise contradicted by anyone with a smidgen of knowledge on the subject.  In doing just five minutes of research, I have found that for every article that tells us not to do something, there is an equally compelling article telling us why we should.

I don’t see the point in the scare tactics that these list based articles contain.  People make choices on a daily basis that may or may not be the best thing for them.   And by now, due to the increasing amount of these articles making their way around social media outlets like wildfire, everyone and their mother is aware of the chemicals that are used in a large portion of our consumables.  I am not debating the accuracy of these claims.  I am just questioning whether or not these things need to be used to deter people from making their own choices. 

Two of the most recent articles that I find most entertaining are the “8 Beers You Should Stop Drinking Immediately” and the“11 Things You Didn’t Know About Lucky Charms”. 

I think the beer one is particularly funny.  Chances are that if you are an avid beer drinker, you probably don’t care all that much about ingredients or which is the healthiest beer for you.  Rather, I would imagine that your primary care is cracking open your favorite beer and enjoying the taste while unwinding from the pitfalls of your day.  Most beer drinkers I have encountered are also pretty loyal to their brand, regardless of what’s in it.  And I think that this is okay.  I don’t feel the need to go to my nearest watering hole and shame the beer drinkers into drinking a healthier beer.  I think they deserve to make whatever choices they want to make.

As for the Lucky Charms paint thinner claims, to my knowledge, no one has perished from consuming a bowl of Lucky Charms.  I agree that there are definitely healthier cereals out there, but I disagree with trying to persuade people to change cereals (or anything), especially if everything in that article is not factual.

Those of you who know me know that I am a pretty healthy chick.  So, it’s not like I am against a healthy lifestyle.  I guess what I am against is people trying to tell me (in list format) what their idea of health is for me.   What works for you and your family may not work for me and mine.  So, I have a request.  You do you.  I’ll do me.  And I’ll bet that this will work out just fine for us both.

And here’s my unsolicited advice:  do your own research, educate yourselves on BOTH sides of every story and reach your own conclusions.  Make the decisions that you feel are best for you and your family.  And for Pete’s sake, stop reading and making these decisions based on these asinine lists.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going to go have a beer with a side of Lucky Charms.

Be In the Moment

Growing up, I was a cheerleader, played softball, sang in the school’s chorus and musical productions, went on class trips, and participated in numerous high school clubs.  For all of these events and those that I have forgotten, my parents were there rooting me on, sometimes with a camera and sometimes without.  Sure, I have lots of old photos documenting things like vacations, prom, birthday parties and graduation.  But making memories back then relied heavily on being present.  Most of my childhood memories are stored in my brain and are just for me.  Whoever shared in those times with me may also have different versions of my memories.  However, the memories weren’t shared with neighbors and acquaintances or people my family barely knew.  Creating memories, not documenting them, was special.

The smaller moments spent with my parents included things like taking a day to walk around New York City or simply going out to dinner.  When my parents were there, they paid attention to me and what I had to say, no matter how unimportant it was to them.  They paid attention to what I ordered at a restaurant, made suggestions about what I should try, and made eye contact with me during our conversations.  They didn’t have phones, and neither did I.  Our interactions, no matter how small, were real and precious and, although I never realized it then, appreciated. 

Last week, I went on a class trip to LEGOLAND with my daughter.  My cell phone hasn’t been working for the last month, so by default, I left it home, along with my camera.  This is the first time in a really long time that I didn’t have any technology for what I considered to be a special day with my daughter.  At first, I was bummed that I couldn’t post any pictures to my Facebook page to let all of my friends and family know what a great time we were having.  But as soon as she got off the bus and found me in the crowd of parents, her smile made me feel ready to tackle a technology free day. 

Throughout the day, we walked hand in hand, with my other hand free of a phone or camera.  We had a very long conversation about the Rainbow Fairies book series that she is currently obsessed with.  We observed the LEGOLAND mini city section and got excited when we came across New York City.  We went back and forth comparing all of the places that we were able to see when we went on our New York vacation this past summer.  When we waited in line for the rides, we hugged, and at one point, I picked her up (because both hands were free) and I just held her.  When we ate lunch together, we looked at the LEGOLAND map to trace where we had been and where we wanted to go next.  We did all of this and more without sharing it with anyone else. 

That got me thinking about the need for constant sharing.  I think that there is a difference between people who take photos to capture the memories, and people who take photos simply to post them on Facebook to garner a “like” or a comment.  I’ve seen pictures of families taken in the car on their way to wherever it is they are going, whether it be to a vacation spot, a park, or sometimes, just a trip to the gas station.  I’ve seen pictures of families eating at restaurants.  I’ve seen pictures from various vacation destinations.  I’ve seen pictures of children playing in their rooms or yards.  The list goes on and on.  And I am the first to admit that I am guilty of it.

But the technology free trip to LEGOLAND may have changed that for me.  It brought me back to my technology free childhood.  It reminded me of those dinners with my family that were based on conversation.  My parents didn’t bring their cameras every time we went to the park or went on a class trip or went out to eat dinner.  In fact, there are no childhood pictures that captured me eating dinner at all.  Do you know why?  Because dinner and regular daily life was reserved for conversation and truly being present. 

Of course, cell phones and Facebook weren’t available then.  Had my parents had a cell phone, maybe things would have been different.  Maybe we might never have had as many conversations with each other.  Maybe I would have grown up feeling a little insecure because my life was on display to all my parents’ friends.  Maybe I would have felt listened to, but not really heard.  Maybe I wouldn’t really know my parents at all. Maybe I would have had a million more photos, but not too many really great memories.  Or maybe it wouldn’t have made too much of a difference.  But after my day with my daughter, I’ve come to my own conclusion, which is that I think oversharing can actually cause more harm than good. 

After the amazing LEGOLAND trip, there are a few things I now know.  I know that I didn’t waste any of my daughter's time by making her pose for pictures throughout the park so that I could post them to Facebook.  I know that I learned some new things about my daughter and about how she feels about certain things.  I know about all of the Rainbow Fairies and how they found each other and who the fairy was who started it all (her name is Ruby).  I learned that eye contact and being truly engaged for one entire day sure as hell beats even one minute spent uploading a picture to Facebook.  I learned that you can’t get those minutes back.  I learned that not only do I appreciate those extra minutes, but my daughter does too.  I learned that she has different facial expressions when she knows I am intently listening and watching her.  I learned that she smiles every time I look at her.  I learned that I could get more out of any experience if I use my eyes rather than a camera lens or a phone.

The Wrong Regret

This morning, I took my nine year old daughter out for our regular Saturday morning bike ride.  We have made a habit of riding around town for about three miles.  This morning, we chose to ride on the sidewalk.  We’ve done this route a few times before, and we both really enjoy it because the sidewalk is smoother and feels safer than the street.  We left the house at 9:37am. 

The ride was great.  It was a beautiful day with a cool breeze which made us welcome the hot sun.  Toward the end of our ride, I told her to make a right onto our street.  And that’s when, out of nowhere, she decided to turn left onto the busy street instead.

It was only a second, but it seemed like an hour in slow motion.  I froze as I watched her weave her way across the busy street without looking.  I froze again as I realized that the cars going in both directions had stopped to let her go.  And then I realized that I needed to get across to her.  The first rational thought that crossed my mind was that she was okay.  She made it.  She’s alive.  The second rational thought I had was to get off my bike and run.  In hindsight, this doesn’t make much sense, as riding a bike to her would have been faster.  But running as fast as I could was what I decided on.  When I got to her, she was shaken and scared.  I had no words.  I just stared at her.  When words finally came to my mind and out of my mouth, they were, “What in the world were you thinking?  You could have been killed!”  I couldn’t understand why she made the left.  I couldn’t understand why she didn’t stop her bike and look both ways as she has been taught to do since she was a little girl.  I couldn’t understand how she was still alive when she had come literally inches from getting hit by a car.

We rode home in silence.  And when we got inside the house, we both went to our rooms.  I immediately got into the shower and replayed the whole thing again in my head.  I went over all of the things that could have happened.  But mostly, I was searching for ways I could have stopped her.  I came up with dozens of things I should have done differently.  I beat myself up for freezing instead of reacting immediately.  I thought how ridiculous it was to get off my bike and run.  I thought about what a terrible mom I was to not demand that she stop her bike before every turn.  I thought of all of the regrets I would have had if she had gotten hit.

After the shower, I went to her room and she was crying.  She was scared and worried that I was mad at her for making a mistake.  She said she got confused.  She said that even though she heard me say “right”, she thought we lived the other way and was just trying to go home.  And that’s when it hit me.  There was nothing I could have done.  Even if her mistake proved to be fatal, there would have been nothing I could have done to change the fact that, in her mind, “left” was the way to go.  I held onto her for as long as she let me, and I realized something.  The only real regret I had regarding today’s scare had nothing to do with how I failed to stop her bike from crossing that street.  The regret I had was my immediate reaction and communication with my daughter.  The truth is that she made a snap decision that was out of my control.  The bigger truth is that throughout her life, she is going to make tons of similar decisions that won’t make sense to me and that I won’t be able to prevent.  I wish I would have thrown my arms around her to comfort her as soon as I had gotten to the other side of the street.  Instead, I focused on how I felt and let my emotions control that moment.  And I learned such a great lesson from it.  Regardless of what mistakes she makes in her future, going forward, I will always choose to react with love instead of fear, and comfort instead of strength.   

To the two drivers of the cars that stopped as my daughter darted across the road unexpectedly, thank you for stopping.  Thank you for paying attention to something that you normally wouldn’t have to pay attention to.  Thank you for not speeding.  Thank you for not texting while driving.  Thank you for saving my daughter’s life.

*This piece was featured on BlogHer on October 25, 2014

They Aren't On Facebook!

My youngest daughter turned seven this past weekend, and we celebrated with a pool party and a trip to Lion Country Safari.  On the night before her birthday, I went into her bedroom to tuck her in and sat down and asked her to stop aging and to stay six forever.  She giggled and told me that she loved me.  I then continued our nightly ritual by saying, “I love you more.”  And she ended with, “I love you most.”  (Yes, this is from Tangled.)  The following morning, I woke up, made some coffee, and posted the number 7 as my Facebook status.  I also changed my profile picture to a picture of my daughter.  And then I closed my laptop and started to get ready for our trip to Lion Country Safari.  Those of my Facebook friends who I am closest with understood my status.  Most of them had already wished her a happy birthday with a card or a gift or a phone call the previous day.  Every year, when my daughters turn a year older, I post their age as my status update.  I don’t know why I do it.  Maybe it’s just to validate that the day is special to me.

I’ve noticed that other people do something similar that I find a little odd.  My Facebook feed is filled with long notes from parents to their young ones, wishing them a great day.  Along these lines, I also see personal notes to the deceased.  I guess my confusion lies with these sincere posts directed to people who don’t have a Facebook account, either due to age or death. In the same way I try to figure out why I post certain things on Facebook verses other things, I am trying to figure out the nature and rationale of these types of posts.   “Happy 6^th birthday Jimmy.  We love you.”  Does six year old Jimmy have a Facebook account already?  Is six year old Jimmy away with his grandparents on his birthday, so Facebook is a way to communicate with him while he’s on vacay?  Or are these heartfelt sentiments just a way for people to alert their friends that it’s their child’s birthday?  But if that’s the case, why not say, “Hey everyone!  It’s my son’s birthday today.  Show him some Facebook love!”  In the death related posts, such as “I miss you so much Aunt Helen.  I hope you are looking down at me from heaven”, I’m assuming this is a part of the grieving process for some?  Or is it a way to let others know about how sad you are about the person’s death in order to get some sympathy from your friends?   As you can see, I don’t quite understand these types of messages.  Although I post the ages of my daughters on Facebook, I don’t write to them directly on Facebook because they will never see it.  On the other hand, I do have a personal email account for each of my girls.  I write to them regularly, and right now, I am the only one with the passwords.  I hope to give them the passwords when they get older.  But these are personal, non-public letters that I know they will get to read someday.  As for the people who post letters addressed to people who do not have Facebook accounts, I sincerely hope that Facebook isn’t a replacement for saying these beautiful words out loud.   

Obviously, I find it interesting how people relay messages on Facebook.  I’m not trying to be a smart ass (well, maybe a little bit) or an elitist because I post to Facebook all of the time.  I guess I would love to delve further into why people, myself included, post what they post and what type of reaction they are specifically looking for.   Is it all just an ego boost?  Is it part of the so called “Me Generation”?  Or is there something more to it?  Not that I spend my days wondering about this, but sometimes random things cross my mind.   Just wondering if anyone else out there has ever had the same thoughts, or if anyone would like to offer their insight.