Beauty Through Other Eyes

Posted on April 18, 2013 by Real Women

When it comes to confidence and self-esteem, it is unfortunately true that we can be our own worst enemies.  Real Women are especially hard on ourselves – we are either pushing ourselves to do better, do more, be smarter, or we are being remarkably critical of our looks, our style, our weight, our overall physical attributes.  Yet we are quick to compliment the other women in our lives, and often be envious of women who are just as real as ourselves.

One company that has impressed me in recent years by the way they have tried to change our attitudes about ourselves is Dove.  Through some keenly smart marketing campaigns, they have tried to get us to stop being so hard on ourselves. In 2004, they launched their first Campaign for Real Beauty.  In 2010, they started a Movement for Self-Esteem.  And just this past week, a friend of mine shared with me Dove’s new “See How Beautiful You Really Are” Campaign.  The concept is that an FBI artist is brought in to sketch how women describe themselves; he then sketches them again as described by other women.  The difference is startling.  What I find the most remarkable is how much the sketches that result from others’ descriptions were much more true to life.  If you haven’t seen it yet, I urge you to check it out here:    http://realbeautysketches.dove.us

Do Dove’s campaigns make me buy their products any more than I already do?  I’m not so sure. But they certainly make me talk about them more, appreciate their messages, and maybe, just for a few minutes, ease up on criticisms of myself.  This particular campaign has really made me think about how we all are able to so easily see the beauty in each other, even if we seem so blind to it for ourselves.

In a somewhat related but much more light-hearted aspect of this, I have recently been paying more attention to a game so many of us like to play…I call it the “Celebrity Twin” game. This is when someone will tell you that you look like a  certain well-known celebrity, entertainer, or sports professional.  It can be a very amusing past-time to consider who your friend or co-worker’s celebrity look-alike may be.  The old “if someone were to play you in a movie, who would it be?” fun.

Sometimes it is brightly obvious.  Like “Wow, she looks JUST like ___.”  Other times, it can be a source of conversation or discussion at a gathering of friends “No, I think she looks more like ___.”   Even more interesting is when a total stranger will stop and say “has anyone ever told you that you look like ____?”

The reason I’ve been paying more attention to this, and perhaps it is because of Dove’s campaign, is because to me it says something about your strongest features in other people’s eyes, or a characteristic you may never have considered before to be a good thing.  Because after all, I think for the most part, being compared to a celebrity can be taken as a compliment.

I have one BFF who I have always believed looks like Valerie Bertanelli; another like Kate Jackson.  My sister looks like Linda Kozlowski (or, alternatively, HawkGirl according to our nephew).    As for me, I’ve had a few references made over the years, and they’ve changed as I’ve gotten older.  When the show Soprano’s was on, I had folks remark about my long-lost twin, Edie Falco.  But more recently, and this happened again just last weekend when a Retail clerk stopped me to say “has anyone told you…” , I’ve been compared to Kathy Griffin.

By the way, this game also works well for the men in our lives.  My husband’s celeb twin is Robin Williams.  My neighbor could be Kyle McLaughlin.  My Dad and Dick VanDyk could have been brothers.   And so it goes…. It can be a bit of an addicting, fun game – you are thinking about this right now about the people in your life, aren’t you??

I don’t see this as a bad thing. I see it as another way to take a different look at the people in our lives, and most importantly, at ourselves… and rather than criticizing our features we don’t like, we are being shown a tongue-in-cheek alternative-universe mirror.   And in the process, we are having to admit that we ain’t half bad.  As a matter of fact, maybe we are actually….dare we utter it?  Beautiful.

 

maria1valerie b1

 

diane1

kate j1

molly1linda k1

kathy g1me1edie f1

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Too Much or Just Enough?

Posted on April 15, 2013 by Real Women

Teen-MoneyOne of my BFF’s, a favorite auntie to the next generation in her family, was describing a recent text conversation she had with her teen niece.  Her niece was venting about how her mom wouldn’t buy her a pair of shoes, but instead her mom had told her she’d have to pay at least half with her own money.  (my BFF was quite sure the teen was hoping Auntie would sweep in to buy her the shoes – no such luck). Then the teen was upset that she was having to miss a boy-band concert to attend a family wedding, how dreadful.

This story spawned a lively conversation among my group of BFF’s about how the younger generation is spoiled – and we are all at fault.  Are we creating our own monsters?  Most of us easily admitted that we give our kids virtually anything they ask for, while at the same time trying to teach them values.  Growing up in my household, my mother’s rule was always that if I needed something, she and Dad would provide it for me. But if there was something I just wanted, I had to save my own money for it.  I still remember the pride I felt when I saved my pennies and plunked them down for a pair of Dr. Scholl’s wooden sandals.  My mother was convinced I’d twist my ankle in them, but I adored them.  I am trying to instill the same rule with my son.  He doesn’t want sandals, but he certainly yearns for the next cool piece of electronics.  Yet there are plenty of “wants” that I still end up giving him without much effort on his part.

My friends revealed similar tales of perhaps all too easily “giving in”.   One referenced a recent dinner out with a friend (me), when her teenage daughter stopped by the restaurant to borrow $20 and walked away with half of her mom’s dinner to boot.  Our kids have the latest in personal technology, fashion and gifts.  To coin a phrase “they want for nothing.”  But when we truly think about it, are we giving too much, or just enough?

I can personally vouch that each of the kids we discussed are truly good kids.  They have kind souls, they love their families, and for the most part work hard in school.  As painful as it may be for teens, they thank us and may even show us affection in public (as long as it isn’t in front of friends.)   Yet I often have that nagging question in the back of my mind “does my son realize how fortunate he is?  Will he grow up understanding the importance of giving back, of helping others less fortunate?  Will he look back at his childhood and truly appreciate all he has?”

As much as life leads us to ask questions and have doubts, within the blink of an eye it can give us clear answers too.  On Friday, my son brought home a report card with straight A’s, born from hard work, focus and enthusiasm.  Sunday, I sat in church watching him step into the role of Acolyte and I wondered how and when he could possibly have gotten so grown up and mature so quickly.  And today, Monday, yet another senseless violent tragedy made the news – this time changing the lives of so many people who had joined together for what should have been a happy and healthy day at the Boston Marathon.  And just like that, the answer to my concerns was simple.  Life is short.  Our children are amazing humans and they complete us.  How could we ever give them too much?

kids enough

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Soft Spots in our Armor

Posted on April 9, 2013 by Real Women

I have witnessed, and experienced, a few common traits among Real Women who have reached a certain level of maturity.  (Notice I didn’t say advanced age.)  There is a strength, resilience and calmness under pressure that develops over time.  If a family member or friend becomes ill or injured, we slide into being Emergency Caregiver and become a Nurse or social worker.  If there is a high-stress blow-up at work, we go into Crisis Management mode.  We grin and bear it through our own aches and pains and injuries.  We juggle an absurd amount of things on very little sleep without dropping anything.  If we are wronged or insulted, rather than curling into a ball, we become tough chicks and start singing Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter”.   Yup – we are level-headed, strong, and up to the challenge.

And yet (you knew there’d be a “but”) I have discovered an interesting paradox.  For as strong as we are, there are equal yet adverse reactions to other experiences in our lives. We get weepy over news stories of troops away from home, cry while watching a romantic scene in a movie, or tear up while listening to a sad song on the radio.  At times something as simple as a long-distance phone commercial can get some of us going.  And if a story has anything to do with puppies or children, “fahgettaboudit”.

dog and boy

It amuses me to think about how I can put in a 9-hour work day beating deadlines and putting out metaphoric fires, deal with issues related to my brother’s stay in the hospital, soothe my son’s anguish over a clutsy tween injury, listen to my husband’s work stresses, sail through the day’s chores – then end up sobbing over an episode of Parenthood.  What the heck?!   My husband actually now considers it a bit of a game – if we are watching something together that may include a moment that could get to me, he smirks and asks “need a tissue yet?”

I used to be embarrassed by, and hide, my whimpers and sniffles over sometimes goofy or imaginary experiences.  Yet as I’ve aged, and they have apparently become more frequent, I have accepted those moments as part of who I am, occasionally laugh at myself for it, and keep tissues nearby.

Why does this paradox happen?  Certainly there are other Real Women out there who seem to be able to keep their composure better than I can, or seem to be less affected by certain emotional situations.  But I’ve seen even the “toughest” women get weepy over seemingly simple moments.  How is it we can get increasingly strong and calm in the face of crisis as we mature, but then lose it over something more trivial?   Some would say we are strong “when we need to be.”  Ok, maybe I’ll go along with this to a certain extent…but I know me, and I am confident that there are certain situations where being strong would be the better option, but it just isn’t going to happen.  For example, I know I would never be able to deliver a eulogy at a funeral without sobbing.  Just as I know that I can’t sing Silent Night by candlelight during the holidays at church without getting choked up.  It is just gonna happen.

Surely, hormones have something to do with it.  We can always blame those pesky things for our issues, especially during certain days of the month, or throughout menopause.  But perhaps it also has to do with letting our guards down.  When we are in Super Woman mode, caring for someone else, defusing a stressful situation or just taking on the world in our average day, we are “on and ready.”  We do what we need to do, and by golly, we do it with style and sophistication.  As much as we may not want to admit it, we still feel the need to prove ourselves – that we are just as good, as smart, as strong as our male counterparts.  Crying is for the weak, right?

But then –  there have to be those moments when we are “off-duty”, or we are caught off guard, and our soft spots are exposed.  When we have taken our capes and helmets off, and it just us…. With our hearts on our sleeves and our emotions ready to flow.  And ironically, it is precisely at those moments – when we’ve relaxed and are wallowing in our womanhood, that a coffee commercial showing a soldier coming home to his family flicks across our screens for 60 seconds and we get that “oooohhhh” feeling and reach for a tissue.

Perhaps this just shows that we are caring humans, and that we are affected by what we feel to be the truly important things in life.  Or maybe we are just getting emotionally wimpy in our old age.  Either way, I say we embrace it.   So go ahead and turn on that movie, pick up the news stories, watch a toddler take his first steps while reaching for the family pet – and be proud of  your resulting sniffles.   Consider it our duty to keep the facial tissue companies in business.

 

 

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Data Retrieval

Posted on April 2, 2013 by Real Women

This afternoon I left work a bit early to go to a dental appointment. Five minutes after leaving my office, as I was pulling on to the highway, and for one split second I thought “wait, where am I going?”

In the interest of full Real Women disclosure, I know I’m not alone…this is the same phenomenon as walking out of one room, into another, and forgetting why.  Or putting down your cell phone and two minutes later forgetting where you put it. Or getting up from your desk, charging out into the hall to get …. something, but who knows what.  Or more potentially embarrassing, dialing the phone and as it is ringing just for a moment forgetting who you called.  Yes, admit it, at least one of these things has happened to you, and it probably happened as recently as today.

I truly don’t believe, at least in most cases, that this is the sign of early senility.  Rather, I believe it is the by-product of the massive amount of details that are flying around in our brains at any given moment.  When I made that turn onto the highway today, I was thinking about emails I needed to reply to, calls I needed to make, which items on my to do list I was going to get done when I got home, wondering if my husband would remember to pick up milk, would I have time to take the dog for a walk, birthday cards I needed to purchase, what to do about dinner and oh yes – singing along with the old Madonna song that had just come on the radio.   Is it any wonder that for one brief second, the detail of where I was going got pushed aside?

One of my BFF’s reminded me the other day of a great scene in the Mel Gibson movie “What Women Want.”  He was telling his buddy that he could hear what women were thinking – and he said it was horrible because “they worry all the time.”   Call it worry or multi-tasking, either way we have what seems to be thousands of things floating through our heads at any given moment.  This is why in the distance between my desk and the hallway, the fact that I was going to get a folder out of the supply closet gets bumped out of my head.  Then I do that embarrassing mid-life Real Woman thing of standing with my hands on my hips and a confused look on my face until it comes back to me.  Or I go on to something else, like a dog chasing a squirrel.

file cabinetI have a somewhat related theory about our personal data retrieval and memory capacity.  I picture our memory storage to be like a giant, over-stuffed file cabinet.  We just keep adding more and more files into the already full drawers.  And every now and then we are forced to purge some of the old memories to make room for new.  We just can’t possibly fit it all in.  I’m sure the younger generation would like to believe that our brains are like expansive computer Terra-Byte drives.  Well, maybe theirs are. Mine is a bulging old file cabinet.  And certain things have been deleted.  Like the names of most of my college professors, the directions of how to get around an old neighborhood, or what year a nephew was born.  Of course we keep as many of our old beloved memories archived in the back of the drawer as possible.  This is how we can remember certain childhood memories and the look or sound of loved ones who have passed…Yet just like my real-life file cabinet, sometimes rather goofy random memories remain, as if they are post-it notes that got stuck to the back of another paper.  Hence why I can remember the 4-H pledge from when I was 8 years old but not my Linked In password that I just used yesterday.

It seems that men have a better ability to recall old memories.  Ask a man about the name of his buddies when he was 8, the color of his neighbor’s dog when he was 12 and the name of the street he was on when he wrecked his first bicycle, and he will be able to tell you.  This leads me to believe that either they have a better archiving system, or more likely, they have fewer current files they are trying to cram into the front of the top drawer every day.

I used to feel bad that I couldn’t remember some past memory when others could. But now I just say “gee, I’m sorry, but that part of my file cabinet has been purged.”

Of course, that won’t help me the next time I’m thinking about my to do list and miss an exit.  That’s just a Real Woman brain fart.

 

 

 

 

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Moments

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Real Women

I remember as a child, my mother told me that the older you get, the faster time flies.  Of course, as a young girl, I thought this sounded crazy.  How could my days go any faster?  Now that I’m older, and a mom, I have realized that most of her mom-isms were not crazy – more like quirky truths.  Because she was right.  There are days or weeks that I will be exhausted, and look back and realize it is all a blur of activity and was over in the blink of an eye.

We are tackling so much in the hours we are given that time really does seem to just zip by.  The danger, of course, is that we are so busy doing that we risk not experiencing life.  I am just as much at fault with this as many other R.W’s – but it can be hard to break that cycle.  We all know the multitude of phrases out there that have become fodder for popular country songs….life is short, don’t waste a minute, and “live life like you’re dyin’ “.  Eeesh, that’s a lot of pressure.

moment charm

I bought this bracelet (yes, I am a big Alex & Ani fan) some time ago to remind myself simply to not get so caught up in the “stuff” of life that I forget to literally stop and smell the roses, and even more to the point, appreciate them.  Sure, there are plenty of moments in life that we don’t want to linger through – things like stressful work moments, or driving through snow storms, being ill, or receiving bad news.  But in their own way, these ugly moments have their purpose – to remind us to appreciate the good ones even more.

There is another reference that is being tossed around now:  “First World problems.”  I actually like this phrase.  It doesn’t necessarily belittle whatever issues we are having, but it does remind us that we should feel lucky to have some of the problems we do, compared to so many in this world who can’t even dream of having them.  Like when we get grumpy that the outfit we really wanted to wear was too wrinkled so we had to grab something else out of our crowded closet as a last minute substitution.  Annoying, yes.  Yet isn’t it lovely to not only have clothing, but a closet to put it in?

In my new-found attempt to “Live in the Moment”, I am trying to take extra mental notes of those little instants in life that I really do completely appreciate.  I’m not talking about those miraculous happenings like experiencing a sunrise on a tropical beach, or those Hallmark flashes like witnessing a baby’s first smile.  Of course these are amazing things, and if we can’t appreciate THOSE moments, then we probably need deep psychological help.  No, I’m thinking of those other more run-of-the-mill times that make us smile, or bring us just a moment of peace, that little “ahhhhh” feeling inside.   To that end, I present the start of my First-World-Real-Woman-Moments-to-Appreciate list.   These are in no particular order…and I encourage and welcome you to add your own petitions.

  • A rare day to sleep in and not rush.
  • An empty dishwasher.
  • A good hair day.
  • Wearing a great pair of shoes.
  • Getting a pedicure.
  • That feeling after a really good workout (of any kind!).
  • A fresh baked chocolate chip cookie.
  • Being proud of your child for something as simple as being kind.
  • Popping open a nice cold coca-cola.
  • Uncovering green sprouts in the garden after a long winter.
  • That 5 minutes when the whole house is clean and the laundry is done.
  • Your pet’s furry face.
  • Singing loud and proud in the car to a great song .
  • Receiving a compliment.
  • Escaping reality to get sucked into a really good book, show or movie.
  • Sunshine.
  • Hugs.
  • Good parking karma.
  • Fuzzy socks on a cold day.
  • Dark chocolate.
  • Pink nailpolish or lipstick .
  • Laughing until you snort.
  •      

I wish you a day of moments.

 

 

 

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Hiber-pudge

Posted on March 25, 2013 by Real Women

winter wearI have decided to blame the weather.

Why not?  Many of us are already pretty cranky about the fact that the arrival of spring has apparently been postponed.  So I may as well hop on the bandwagon and blame the grey, cold, blustery weather for the current state of my body.  Certainly it must be the fault of winter hibernation that I’ve put on a few extra pounds and a few parts have sagged.  It has to be the sun’s blunder for not sticking around to raise the temperature long enough to melt away my pudge to reveal my hidden svelte self.

Laying the blame on the weather is far easier and, in my cold numb brain, more logical than looking at other possible reasons.  For sure my current shape couldn’t be because of my lower level of exercise and boredom with my basement workouts.  It couldn’t be because of my intake of comfort food – like my diet today that included quesadillas and chocolate cake.  It can’t have anything to do with my increased age and decreased metabolism.  Nor could it be blamed on the ability to hide under oversized sweatshirts, long sweaters or bulky fleece.

Just like magic, I’m sure when the warmer weather arrives, I will go through some sort of Cinderella-like transformation.  Well, ok…maybe it won’t be THAT easy.  I first have to survive SSS, or Seasonal Shock Syndrome.  This happens that first time a Real Woman tries on a summer outfit, either at home — or worse — in the garishly unforgiving light of a retail dressing room.   For those of us who are of light complexion, seeing the pasty pale glow of our skin after it has been undercover and away from daylight is pretty horrifying.  Then we are forced to stop imagining our perfect bodies and actually look at reality and size up the hiber-pudge situation.

Over the age of 40, hiber-pudge can show up in odd places that were never before an issue.  Of course, there is belly-bulk, or muffin-top, whichever you’d rather call it….however you slice it, it means the end of a flat stomach.  But then there is the extra layer that causes your would-be-Michelle-Obama-arms to look…..well, to look like my grade school teacher’s arms that did the flappa-flappa thing while she wrote on the chalk board.  And then – surprise – there is some kind of pooch that erupts somewhere between lower back and butt… what the HECK is that?!

Yes, Mother Nature can have a mean streak… to put us through long ugly winters only to have us emerge like some kind of pallid momma bears, on the hunt for our stronger, sleeker alter egos.   It is all winter’s fault, for sure.

Now what will be my excuse in June?

 

 

 

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Thank you, Ma’am

Posted on March 21, 2013 by Real Women

MaggySmithLadyGranthamDowntonAbbeyEmmysI remember the first time I was called ma’am.   I was barely into my early 30’s.  A young service station attendant (I believe he was a teenager)  said “thank you, ma’am.”   I was shocked and appalled, and all the way home I worried that I looked old enough to be a ma’am.

And that is truly  the crux of the matter.  Whether an accurate definition or not, to us Real Women, “ma’am” makes us feel old.  At some point, all too early in life, we slide from being a Miss to a Ma’am.  It is a painful passage that sticks with us.  Just last night, I was out to dinner with a BFF, and the perky young waitress called her ma’am.  I saw my BFF physically cringe. As the waitress walked away, my friend muttered “please, please, don’t call me ma’am. I feel old enough without that.”

This of course begs the question: if not Ma’am, then what?  What would we rather be called by strangers who don’t know our real names?  Men seem to have it easier.  They have the short and respectful “sir”, or the more friendly “guy”, or even just “man”, as in “Hey, thanks, man.”

But what are our options?    Madam?  Eeek, that makes me feel like either I’m an old has-been cougar working the streets, or I’m an elderly Dowager.   Hey you?  Wrong.  Babe?  Nope – especially if we are being addressed by a man, that’s not exactly appropriate.  One that makes me cringe even more is when a few of us are being addressed as “girls” – especially at work. As in “the girls in marketing.”  I have found a way to stop this, however, by in return calling them “boys”.  So we aren’t 10-year-old little girls…but we don’t feel old enough to be “ma’ams”.   Where is the middle ground?  The safest route for a group would simply to be called “women.”   But that doesn’t work for a singular situation – “excuse me, woman?”.  Ha, I don’t think so.   Then there is the opposite end of the spectrum, the all-too-sweet-and-familiar:  last week I went to pick up a pizza, and the young woman behind the counter called me “sweetie” – and a customer I used to call on would call every woman on the phone “honey”.   Call me crazy, but I’d rather only have a family member or my husband call me that.

Of course, if we are with a group of our own friends, these rules don’t apply.  Virtually any term can be used and we can get a way with it – cute or rude, it doesn’t really matter, they are all seen as terms of endearment.  I frequently call my BFF’s chicks, or chickie-babes.  But if a stranger tried that, my response would be something like “who you callin’ chickie?!”.

For the most part, I really don’t think any term is necessary.  How about just stopping after “thank you” or “excuse me” or “bye”….why add on another word that could either get you in trouble, or make the recipient cringe?   I think we need to either let go of these nicknames, or revert back to the old, more proper, days reflected in Downton Abbey.  Perhaps we can start calling each other Countess or Lady and the men in our life can be Lord, Master, or Earl.

We’ll just have to practice saying it with a straight face.

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Stepping Up to the Plate

Posted on March 17, 2013 by Real Women

“I married a younger man. Five years younger than I am. I figure it is like this: if you can’t find a good man, raise one.”  –  Wanda Sykes 

In a previous post, I had a bit of fun with the topic of “category men.”  My theory was that within each age-range, men have something to offer — some redeeming quality that could make our lives more pleasant and entertaining.

By way of quick review, there are the 20-somethings with boyish charm who look good mowing the lawn.   gardener

 

There are the 30-somethings with a nice combination of a touch of maturity with usually some form of steady employment, yet are still young, hot, and energetic enough to add excitement to life.

rgosling

The 40’s to 50’s men have the best potential for stability, loyalty and desire to please – like a puppy dog.

And our 60+ range can provide companionship, culture, and intelligent conversation.

tselleck

 

Yes, they all have their attributes as well as their drawbacks.  And yet it has struck me, in talking with other Real Women, and in my own experience, that there is one common thread, one element, that no matter the age, can be one of the main deciding factors between a Keeper and a Send-Him-to-the-Curber.

This one most-desired feature is startlingly simple.  For those men out there who are reading this (yes, I know there are a few of you – even if you don’t want to admit that you are reading a blog titled “Real Women”) – take note of what I’m about to explain.  Then tell your friends.  Because this one easy thing can not only keep you in a steady, happy relationship, it could even get you lucky.

Ready?  Here it is:  we Real Women want and need a man who is there for us when we need him.   We R.W.’s are strong, powerful, and self-reliant.  Yet, as much as we hate to admit it, there are times we need support, encouragement, even – gasp – help.   It can be even small gestures that help…. Men, if you can make us laugh when we are down or stressed, or convincingly tell us you love us or think we are beautiful even when we look like doo-doo, you get major points.  But then take it to the next level and step up to the plate when we need you to, and you are golden.

One of my girlfriends recently had to have knee surgery. She was laid up and recuperating at home for several weeks.  Her husband of many years pleasantly surprised her by kicking in to gear and making dinners, doing laundry, driving her to her P.T. appointments, and encouraging her during her healing.  Bravo, well done.

There is one phrase, one question, men, that you can utter in our direction, and we women will swoon, our hearts will beat faster and you will immediately become more physically attractive in our eyes…seven simple words:  “What can I do to help you?”.    Wow. That’s hot.

Now, R.W.’s, I do throw out some caution here.  Men (sorry guys) are simple creatures.  The majority of them will not know to ask this question.  They need direction.  They need us to actually ask them for help, or tell them what to do.  As exasperating as that may sound, they just aren’t wired like we are to naturally know what to do.  My dear husband admitted this to me recently, even after all our years together, when he said “I can be stupid sometimes and not know enough to start dinner or get the laundry going. So I need you to tell me what you need me to do.”

We R.W.’s are horrible at asking for help.  But guess what?  As painful as it is to do, it works.  During a stressful busy day, I asked my husband to run an important errand that I just couldn’t get to, and he did it.  When I was too exhausted to deal with visiting a sick family member by myself, I asked him to come with me and he did.  If I leave a note on the counter with instructions on how to start dinner, he will.

Imagine that.

The funny thing is, if we have a man in our lives who will Step Up to the Plate when we need him to, we don’t really care if his hair is thinning, if he gains a few pounds, or if he leaves his socks in the living room.  He doesn’t have to be the perfect “category man”.   He just needs to be there for us.  Well, and it helps if he smells good.

help

 

 

 

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The Other Shades of Grey

Posted on March 10, 2013 by Real Women

We New Englanders are fiercely proud of our Seasons.  Ask any of us why we live in this area of the country, and you are fairly guaranteed that one of the answers will be “because I love having four seasons.” Each season brings us variety, reliable change, and a certain kind of beauty.  Every seasonal change sparks a flash of excitement within us.  The weather shifts, and we start looking forward to the next holiday, start planning new activities, and rush to get our cameras… because apparently a lifetime of photos of daffodils, beaches, red maple leaves and snow-covered evergreens are never enough.

Our seasonal pride can reach a level of smugness as we offer our condolences to those in other climates as they deal with lengthy oppressive summer heat, or weeks of below-zero winter temperatures… and we feel sorry for those who don’t witness the splendor of Fall foliage – as if nothing else in our country could possibly be more beautiful.

We can even have extensive philosophical discussions as to which season is our favorite, and why.  Avid skiers count the days until winter brings a good snowfall.  Sun worshippers are thrilled when summer arrives, and those who appreciate a nip in the air will extol the virtues of autumn.  Yes, we wear our love affair with our seasons like a badge of honor.

grey

Oh, so very Grey.

And yet… there is a fifth season we all dread.  It is like the ugly duckling in our weather-world of swans.  We don’t like to talk about it – we try to ignore it, just push through it.  But each year it shows up and brings us down. It is The Grey Season.  Generally speaking, in our area, Grey Season starts around the beginning of February and lasts into March.  Winter has lingered on and has begun to live-out its usefulness.  Spring is trying hard to arrive, but doesn’t yet have the strength to break through.

I have no major aversion to the color grey. It can be lovely in appropriate places like a man’s suit, a kitten’s fur, or on a colonial house.  But in nature it is less than lovely.  During Grey Season, daylight is minimal.  Skies are less sunny and clouds cast a dull tone on us all.  Snow banks along the roads have started to melt and get dirty.  Patches of grass aren’t green.  Grit and grime gets tracked in to the house (Something we Real Women particularly despise.)  With the adjustment of temperatures, the precipitation coming out of the skies is not fluffy and white – it is drizzle, rain or fog.  Literally everything around us has turned:  Grey.

And we proud, smug New Englanders turn cranky and anxious.  Even the folks who love winter start to join in the same chorus of “I can’t WAIT until Spring.”.  This 5th Season, the shortest of them all, seems the longest.  We start to hate putting on boots and being cold and wet. We walk with our shoulders hunched, we look pale and puffy, and our tempers are short.

Then finally – it happens.  The sun comes out. The temperatures edge up to the 50’s. We change the clocks ahead and magically gain more afternoon daylight.  Small green sprouts push out of the ground.  Birds start to sing more.  And the greyness fades.  Yes, I realized I just sounded like I am describing a scene from a Disney movie.  Well, maybe we aren’t Snow White – but we begin to emerge like momma bears coming out of hibernation, and we all start smiling a bit more and treating each other a bit better.  Our energy levels go up and we think that maybe, just maybe, we’ve made it through another Grey Season.

Whew.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to grab my camera – I saw the green tips of crocus poking up through the dirt and mud and I need to commemorate the occasion.

Look close -- amid the grey -- green sprouts!

Look close — amid the grey — green sprouts!

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No Extended Highs Allowed

Posted on March 4, 2013 by Real Women

beach chairWhen I went to my workout tonight, I saw a woman who hadn’t been there for a few days. She was very tan, so I asked where she’d been.  She had just recently returned from Costa Rica.  She reported that her vacation was wonderful – 10 days with her husband and a set of friends, completely unplugged from the rest of the world.

And she was completely stressed.

She told me how her return to work that day had been totally overwhelming.  She didn’t know where to start with the incredible quantity of emails, or with all of the work that had piled up and was waiting for her.  She said that she almost wishes now that she had been able to access some of it while she was away to make the return less difficult.

Rather than being blissfully calm after a great vacation, rather than riding a “vacation high”, she came crashing down to reality.   I knew exactly how she felt and offered her my sympathies.

Such is the double-edged sword for modern day Real Women.  We work so hard and plan and save to get away for much-needed vacations.  We are told that the only way to really relax is to take several days off and disconnect.  And that part is true.  We are so wound up that it can take several days to finally let go and slow down, to stop worrying and thinking about whatever “reality” we are escaping for a bit.

If we are lucky, we truly do have wonderful vacations while they last. The bad news is that we dread the return.  And literally within hours of re-entry, that relaxation we tried so hard to achieve has disappeared and we begin to feel even more stressed than before we left.

I think there are a few reasons for this.  In this current economy, many of us are working for companies who have cut back to the bare minimum number of employees to get the work done – so there is no back-up personnel to handle our work while we are gone.  Sure, there may be someone available to put out fires, and take messages.  But our responsibilities and duties just pile up and wait for our return, and then we have to somehow play catch-up while at the same time getting back into the normal pace and routine.  Related to this is the fact that we Real Women carry around a tremendous amount of “stuff” every day.  When we step away from that “stuff”, it doesn’t just go away as if David Copperfield has waved his magic arms in our direction.

Coming back and facing post-vacation reality can be downright anxiety-inducing and terrifying.  That may sound dramatic, but anyone who has experienced R.S. (Return Stress) knows what I mean.  And it really is a shame. It is too bad it has to be this way – sadly, it can make us wonder if getting away is even worth it. So to try to avoid R.S., we attempt to take preventative steps.   We start cutting back on the number of days we’ll be gone.  We avoid unplugging, instead checking messages and emails while on vacation to at least cut back on the quantity needing attention.  And we work three times harder before we even leave, when we are already tired and in need of a break, to try to get things as cleared up as possible before we go.

Does it seem fair?  No.  Does it allow us to let go easily?  No.  But should we still take vacations when possible?  Of course.   We all need breaks, we all need to step away, we all need to breathe, and we all need to spend some time doing something else.  We need to connect with people outside our work zones.  We need to feel that rest and relaxation, even if it is short-lived.

We have to get out and experience life beyond our day-to-day challenges and responsibilities.   We need to bank those amazing experiences we have so even during those stressful return days, we’ll have good memories and great photos to remind us of how awesome it was.  And if it wasn’t for our jobs, we wouldn’t have been able to afford to get away in the first place.

One of my favorite adages is this:  No one on their deathbed ever said “I wish I had spent more time at the office.”    Yes, the return will probably be ugly.   But the value in the time away is immeasurable.   And remember – you’ve always got other sympathetic Real Women who will welcome you back, who missed you, and will be able to commiserate with you about your re-entry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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