Ah, here it is. The end of December. My least favorite time of the year.
Most people would assume that it's because of my love of Christmas lights and decor that I do not care for the end of the year. Yes, we must take it all down and put it all away. I'm actually okay with this. The last few years, I've been grateful for it. After a month of seeing it, I'm good with getting my home back. Perhaps you're thinking that you really know me well and you're thinking - It's the end of the year and she must not have gotten something done that she really wanted to! Well, there are two to three books that I was hoping to be much further in writing, but the motivation was often lacking or I was missing the time when I was motivated due to little ones needing my attention. But no, though I wish I had some more done, that isn't why I cannot stand the end of the years. For quite some time I didn't care for New Year's Eve. The thought of kissing someone at midnight. Well, it wasn't until I was about 23 that I finally had someone to kiss on New Year's Eve. And by 24 we had fallen asleep on the couch and missed the midnight thrill. The next year seemed the same. Once married we gave an extra good night kiss before going to bed to count for the one at midnight. Yes, we are that lame. Honestly, I hate the hoopla that is the New Year celebration. Thank goodness we don't have cable this year to see all the commercials promising a new you for the new year. It just seems asinine to me that we wait all year long to decide that we need to be better in some way shape or form and then choose the new year to start doing better at life. I understand. It's a whole lot easier to track that changes when we know that we started on January 1st. "I'm giving up sweets in 2019! Oh, wait, my birthday is in March. Valentines in February. I love those little heart shaped candies. Maybe one little box won't be that bad. And I need a cake for my birthday. Oh, and that office party at the end of the month. Well, a cheat day here or there isn't that bad." By March this person has forgotten that they were giving up sweets until they have a plate of sugar cookies on their lap at Christmas and the gym membership commercials flash across the screen. We are a country filled with people that are trying to get better each and every day in a large variety of ways. People are giving things up. People are starting new programs. But here it is, the commercialism that killed Christmas decided to destroy New Year's as well. I just can't get behind the hype. I can market myself this time of year as the personal trainer that I am. I can go scrounging for new clients to build my schedule and my bank account. But I'd rather have someone that comes to me in August or April and says, I just need to be healthier. That is a person that will want to work throughout the entire year. I know that people will say, "It's a chance to start fresh!" I say, "Bah humbug" to that. Every day you are given the chance to start fresh. Every day that you wake up is God allowing you to make yourself better in one way or the other. Join that gym on a random Thursday. Begin a reading chart of all the books you intend to read in the time you intend to read them and start. Go for a walk with a friend. Spend time with your kids. Take someone out for lunch. Be an ear to listen. Share love. Start a new routine when it's time, not on everyone else's time. Who knows what today will bring? Focus on each day, not the new year. Because I'm sure there will be a good amount of people that don't stick to their New Year's resolutions, try sticking to a new day's goal. Make yourself better because you want to, or need to, not because everyone else is doing it. This is the final blog of 2018. There will be more to come, unless the good Lord takes me home. Be safe. Be smart. Be the best version of you, today.
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You can be whatever you want to be when you grow up. That’s what they told us, right? Heck, the 1800’s and 1900’s were all about “The Great American Dream.” I actually wrote a paper on it for Gatsby. Twice. (High school and college. Yes, I double dipped.) Everything we know about the good ole US of A is bigger, better, bolder. We are highly overweight as a nation because of our excess. Yet, our markets tell us to be super thin and thus we have extreme underweight people with gym memberships and doctors that will turn your face into a trampoline to make you feel better about yourself because your third grade boyfriend dumped you for Shelly behind the swings at recess.
So here we are, grown up and growing up. Becoming everything we hoped and dreamed of. Wait. Uh, I think I missed a part. Where are my contracts and clothing lines? Where is my dream house? No, this can’t be! By golly, I wanted to be a stay at home mom and author with lots of money! Who left out the money?! I think that’s really what the issue is. Here’s my example: My brother is an amazing man of many talents. Trust me, I don’t blow smoke up people’s butts, and especially not his. This guy suffered with self esteem issues for a good portion of his life, though I’m not exactly sure why. Always a good looking guy. After high school he got some muscle. Smart. Too smart. Athletic. Musically inclined. A great cook. Thoughtful. A talented writer. A gifted carpenter/woodworker. And the list goes on. We grew up in the “You can be whatever your heart desires” era when we were in school. In our home, it was encouraged to be great. Average is ok, but greatness will get you farther. Our father pushed us into degrees and being useful in our callings because he didn’t want us to end up like him – swinging a hammer for 40+ years. So what did we do? We did our best to excel in high school. We went to college. We got degrees. Neither one of us are in the field of our degrees now that we are adults. But that’s ok. We can still be whatever we want to be – when we grow up. I find this to be a lie, particularly as I look at myself and my brother. I think there is nothing more that both my brother and I would like to do, than to live a life of being authors published to the people, adored, and loved. Well, we are both published authors. But it’s still missing something. I haven’t confirmed, but I bet my brother would love to travel the country, find a new spot every month, sit, and write. I for one, would love a large farm house with an office that inspires, and to travel, sit, and write. So what’s the problem? These things require money. Money in larger quantities than either of us have. Combined. This is a lifestyle that we just cannot afford. We cannot grow up to be what we want to be! America has lied to us! People immigrated to this country to find jobs, homes, and stability. They wanted to give their children better lives. We are still wanting this. Yet, America knew how to take advantage of it. The higher the degree, the higher the paycheck is what they tell you. The sooner to becoming rich. No. I tutored a young man (19) that made more money per year, while taking free classes, than my husband teaching for 10+ years. See, now it is more about what field you are in, versus what degree you have. I know this has turned into a sad sack complaint, but I truly don’t understand. Where is the reality in saying that we can be whatever we want to be? My brother offers talents unseen of by many men, and it seems fewer and fewer as the next generations arise. Yet, he and his wife work to take care of their family of four. My husband and I both work for our family of four. My brother writes novels and short stories. I write novels, short stories, children’s books, and poetry. And still, here we are, working. To pay the bills. Perhaps if my brother and I were single still one of us could live our dream. Maybe one of us would be a traveling author taking in the scenery of various national parks, monuments, endless seas, and city scapes. The reality is that most Americans were lied to as children. We can be what we want to be with some stipulations. Maybe one day, we can be what we want. But for right now, we need to head to work. Don't you love when happenings with your children match up with what you are working on with yourself? Well, if you write a weekly blog it's like heaven dropped into your lap. A snot nosed, teary eyed heaven. I mean...
Recently within our homeschooling adventures I allowed for the children to create a blanket fort in the playroom/classroom that they were allowed to do their school work in. However, it required the use of the table I usually work from. Ok, not a big deal. I can use their desks. Well, except that AJ and I are usually next to each other because she's friggin' four and needs me to sit there. So I ended up on the floor. That, naturally, means that I brought my cups with me to the floor. During a time where I was moving laundry around my cup of water had fallen over and spilled all over the floor. Ugh. I can't flip my lid because Caleb is on speaker with my aunt for his Latin lesson. However, the spill occurred under his desk so I need him out of the way just to clean it up. I get him to the kitchen table. I get towels. I begin to sop up the water from the carpet. When I came into the room, Caleb pointed to the spill with the it wasn't me look. When he was out, I noticed that the pencil that plagued my exhaustion (there are usually three pencils out solely from Caleb each day) had been picked up from under his desk. Aha! I caught him. He picked up the pencil and knocked it over. AJ denied the spilling. Caleb denied the spilling. Back and forth for far too long did we discuss that covering up one lie would only lead to more and a bigger punishment, and that even if you knocked it over by accident you simply own up and apologize and we move on. I explained repeatedly that I didn't care that they spilled the water, I just wanted honesty. Then it turned into, "Even if you aren't sure, you can say, 'It may have been me. I don't believe that it was, but I am sorry your water was spilled.' And we can move on." Nope. Then came Caleb's tears. He truly believed that he didn't do it, but began to see the possibilities that could have led to him doing it and just not knowing. It took much longer for my mini-me to admit that even though she didn't think it was her, there were still possibilities that could have led to her inadvertantly spill the water. That's exactly where I am. I was confronted by a friend recently. Although I don't believe that what she was saying was accurate, I have been giving the last few days over to possibilities. I have been confronted with the desire that I would not put up so many walls to keep people out. This is a person that has heard me say, "I will tell you whatever you want to know. Just ask." Still, I do not appear to her as an open book. We sat and discussed with another friend in the room. I mentioned how when I am in pain (as I was that day) I usually just stick to myself so that I don't bother others with the ramblings of my complaints. The burden is mine to bear. She rebutted with the idea that I was to share so that I could be prayed over. True. I'll give her that one. I often feel like I have met my quota of complaints through my husband and try to let him deal with it and let my friends enjoy the non-whiny Jewel. The other friend also brought up that people often view me as intimidating. Look, when you have mastered RBF at the age of three, it happens. However, with my muscle mass and drive, others have said that my first impression is intimidation. This baffles me, truly. But I guess that since I walk around like I just plain don't care - because I don't- it comes off as intimidating. Sorry, not sorry. I supposed that at the end of that conversation, this is where we were leaving it. Then, I started thinking. (I know, scary!!) Even though I don't believe that I am putting up walls, it is coming across as that I am. So where could I be putting up walls that I don't realize? I have an idea of one. For this we will change walls to fences. Many of us put fences around our yards to keep people out. It's a boundary that says, "This is my yard, not yours. Stay out." However, when my husband and I bought our house, the mindset was less about keeping people out and more about keeping the dog in. And now it keeps the children in. Perhaps this wall she feels is not a wall to keep her out, but to keep myself in. Many people keep themselves inside their walls. They don't want people seeing and knowing the real them. Personally, I don't care if you know the real me. Or at least the real me I believe is actually the real me. I do hold myself in, though. I know this. It isn't out of fear of people knowing the real me. It's out of a mindset that people couldn't give a rip to know me. Unfortunately, I find myself indifferent to it. I think, if they want to know about me, they'll ask. Or, I think, "They probably don't want to hear about my problems, they have their own to worry about. I've gotten by this long, I'll keep on keeping on." I've become, dare I say it, emotionally self sufficient in too many ways. What I couldn't handle I've left up for grabs between God and my husband. Bits and pieces have been thrown out, scattering the seeds of my life. Ultimately, I do have a fear in all of this. It has been over four years since I have had a best friend. A female best friend. The last time I had a best friend, she left me. Since then, I have held back. I have found friends and shared, but I don't believe I will ever have a best friend again. Because lets face it, at this point if I don't have a best friend, there are few with vacancies open like myself. So I don't invest in people the way I used to. I don't deposit the bits and pieces of the details of my life all within someone else. It seems each person gets a certain amount from me, but never all. Why? Fear that they will leave as well. So perhaps there are walls that keep me in. I don't mean to have them. And you are welcome in. Maybe one day it will be more like an invisible fence. Sure, I'll end up getting a shock once in a while, but at least it will be more welcoming. There are certain parts of life that we assume everyone has been exposed to. We believe that every person has had the opportunity to learn and grow in these aspects. For many it's simple like respecting our elders. But as time has changed it seems so have the rules. It is so familiar to us we call it common. For example: common sense. How often have we said the words, "Well it's just common sense." Sense is no longer common it seems. No, no, I won't post about common sense today. I'd rather not fire myself up over nothing. Rather, I'd like to bring up, common courtesy.
I hold true to some of the older ways of thinking. Within that, I believe that there are certain ways to treat people, whether they are family, friends, or strangers. How we speak to each other and how we act towards each other should contain some form of common courtesy. I feel that this is more strongly agreeable to complete strangers. We haven't learned all of their incessant ticks that drive us up the wall. They haven't been slowly getting on our nerves until we want to punch them. No, they are simply new to us. Therefore, we should put our best foot forward until something has told us that they don't deserve our niceties. There is one area where I feel that this is even more necessary. Work. Business. Any job where you are selling a product of any kind needs common courtesy. I for one am always stating that I'm selling myself. If I am anywhere in hopes of taking money from strangers for a product or service, my smile is fixed on, my head is held high, and the emotions match each and every customer. Recently I have had a difficult experience. Many people know that my children's books are published through a hybrid publisher. Simple breakdown - I pay up front, they do alllllll the work outside of what I have written. I own all the rights, including the images since I pay for them. Then as I sell them, I keep every penny. (A traditional publisher would purchase the story, make any changes they desire, create images that they prefer, and I would get just a few copies for myself. ) So this has been an okay experience thus far. It's difficult making the initial money up front, but there is a good profit to make on the tail end. With great excitement I contacted my project manager from the previous two books and proudly announced that I am ready to begin the process of book number three! She eagerly responded and copied an acquisitions editor to the thread. I sent the manuscript. They read. He sent the contract. Being my third trip around the sun with them, I was ready to hit the old digital signing button and get this thing going. Then I see the price. WHHHAAAA?? There was an increase in price. Printing prices have gone up for the publishers, therefore, it goes up for me. 1- I get it. This is a business. You need to make money. 2- This sucks. I had a number set in my mind from the last two contracts, I wasn't expecting this. 3- What do I do now? So, big picture this isn't a huge deal. But because there were also some other differences, I decided to email back with my issues. As we corresponded, he threw a number out for what my increase was. His number was significantly lower than what it actually was. The issue I have is not the numbers, but the man. What kind of a man chooses to use misleading calculation? What kind of man chooses to phrase things so that he sounds like a pushy salesman. Take into consideration that I am not some random person. I have worked with this company for two years. I have many more years to come in this series alone. Why would you act so secretly with someone that should give you years of business? I understand not giving me the old price. I understand business and numbers. But to lie about things, I just can't understand. And it all comes down to one thing in my book: common courtesy. There are things that could have been said to make me less hostile. "Well, in addition to printing costs going up, we have expanded our team to better serve customers." "Yes, it seems we have had quite the increase, however it is less than 10%" "I understood that you would get the promotional items as well, maybe we can get you some at no cost to you." Or simply, "Yes, I'm sorry. Inflation." Common courtesy means not making up some bogus lie to make your company seem better than it is. Common courtesy means recognizing a customer and making them feel secure in their decision to continue with you. Customer service has dropped significantly over the years. I have had multiple callers hang up on me. Seriously? You broke up my day. You called over nonsense. You hang up on me? This is customer service? I truly believe we lack customer service because we lack common courtesy. We lack simple manners. I am amazed by the things people find refreshing of my kids. Manners among children are virtually non-existent these days. Parents are dropping the ball. Parents a generation before dropped the ball first. Now we're lucky to have children that understand manners and common courtesy because adults don't know it. America. Wake up. Courtesy is no longer common. Sense is no longer common. Let's bring that back. |
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May 2023
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