Variety, the Spice of Life

Posted on September 18, 2012 by Real Women

We Americans are funny about food.  We love it.  We plan social events around it. We tend to plan our daily schedule around it.  And we love having choices. The more options, varieties and flavors the better.  Lucky for us, in today’s world of mixed cultures, creativity and readily available ingredients, food is no longer just a boring form of sustenance.  Now we can choose between grandma’s recipe for basic comfort food or something a bit more unusual and exciting.  Thanks to restaurants on virtually every corner, we could eat a different meal every night for weeks without repeating one serving.

Granted, having this love affair means that dieting has become a national pastime.  According to Livestrong.com and the BostonMedicalCenter, it is estimated that approximately 45 million Americans diet each year and spend billions of dollars on weight-loss products.  That’s a whole lot of people and a whole lot of time and money spent.

As Real Women, we hope to land somewhere in between these extremes of diet and food excess.  We strive to teach our kids healthy eating habits.  We try to make decent choices for ourselves and our families.  We try to keep things interesting, both to cook and to eat.  When we gather friends and family together, food is always involved – often as the center piece.  Food is social.  Food is comforting.  Food is fun.

Those of us who enjoy cooking and baking are always looking for new menus and recipes and are fascinated by the myriad of cooking shows, publications, cookware stores and “celebrity chefs” that are available with tips and recommendations.  I admit I fall into this category – my “fall back” tv channel when nothing else interesting is airing is the Food Network.  I subscribe to a least 3 different food/recipe magazines.  I am constantly trying new recipes.  And for all of us bloggers, there seems to be a never-ending, glorious selection of food-related blogs to browse.

I believe it is due to this fascination we all have that has led to what I’d call extreme-fooding – battles for the next outrageous food creation or combination.  On cooking/celebrity chef shows, there are contests to come up with the next most amazing plate made from some pretty bizarre ingredients.   Restaurants are quick to present the newest fad, or category of food for their brave customers to try.  At grocery stores, special events and fairs we can enjoy samples of the newest food products.

Speaking of Fairs – these seem to be the home of the most unusual, even ridiculous, food combinations possible.   This week my son and I will be visiting The Big E – which is New England’s version of a State Fair.  And along with all of the other remarkable attractions and things to see and do, we will experience the astonishment and wonder of bizarre foods.   Some of the options include deep-fried lasagna, fried butter, chocolate-covered bacon, and the Fair’s signature piece, a cream puff the size of a child’s head.  In the past year or two, the Fair announced the creation of The Big E Craz-E Burger – that’s it in the picture above.  And yes, you are seeing it correctly, the burger buns have been replaced by glazed donuts.

I stare at the signs for these foods in amazement, and I will admit, a touch of nausea.  I wonder who is willing to eat some of these combinations, and whether they are concerned about having a resulting heart-attack.  But then I realize hey, it is just us crazy Americans and our fascination with food.  There could be far worse things to focus our energies on.

So carry on, foodies.  Be a little crazy,  get creative, do your taste tests and have fun.

Just don’t be offended if I draw the line at deep-fried kool aid.

 

 

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A sweater or shorts?

Posted on September 16, 2012 by Real Women

Here in New England, we have entered Transition Season.  It isn’t summer, and it isn’t fall.  I think we should call it Sall.  Or Fummer.   We wake up to crisp cool 40-degree mornings. By afternoon it can be in the 80’s.  It really is a lovely time of year, the air is clear and refreshing, the sun is bright, and everyone is getting outside as much as possible before winter hits.

However, as a typical Real Woman, I have one issue with Transition Season.  What the heck to wear every day.  Yes, I know this is trivial and silly, but am I really the only one who stands in front of her closet in the morning shivering, trying to pick out something appropriate, knowing by afternoon I’ll be stripping off layers?

Growing up in central New York State, I don’t recall there being as much of a transition season.  One day it was summer, the next day there was frost on the ground.  As kids, we could shop for back-to-school fall clothes and actually wear them for the first week of school.  Conversely, my sister in Texas generally doesn’t have to worry much about layers at this point in the year, yet when I spoke with her the other day, they were having  a cool snap too – and were even more confused than we are about whether to wear a sweater, shorts or both.

In some parts of the country like where I reside now, it can be several weeks before the seasons really shift and the temperatures settle into a normal routine.  I think my biggest challenge is foot wear.  Yes, I know, you are shocked, that ME, the shoe-addicted, does not have at least 8 pairs of transition shoes.  So each morning I debate whether or not I put on my sandals and put up with cold feet until noon, or if I must, with much despair, break out hose or socks and heavier shoes.  Invariably this gives me the urge to – you guessed it – go shopping.  Clearly I need more peep-toe pumps, or slides.  And even if it isn’t true, I start to think I don’t have enough light “Sall” jackets that are in between summer cotton and winter wool.  And naturally, wearing white and other summer colors isn’t appropriate, and I’m not ready for dark jewel tones, so there must be something just perfect out there….oh, yes, this train of thought can be dangerous.

Speaking of shopping – the other person who unknowingly suffers through Transition Season is my son.  For the past few years, I have held off on doing any fall/winter back-to-school shopping for him until, as they say, there is “frost on the pumpkin.”  My reason is simple.  If I invest in new pants and long-sleeve shirts in August, he will have outgrown them by Thanksgiving.  So there I am, the bad mom, sending him out to wait for the bus in the morning wearing shorts, tshirt, and a sweatshirt, shivering.  And I know darn well that sweatshirt will not come home – it will remain wadded up in his locker, because he won’t be needing it by the time school is out for the day. I just might have to break down and take him shopping this week …which is an activity in itself that is probably blog-post worthy.

In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go round up the layers of clothing I have left in various places this afternoon. I’ll probably need them again in the morning.

 

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We go together like…..

Posted on September 12, 2012 by Real Women

Have you ever heard the theory that pets and their owners look alike?

Lately I have started testing this theory by paying a bit more attention to the other dog owners I come across, especially during recent walks.

First, there is the tall beautiful athletic brunette woman and her beautiful athletic husky, out for their without-fail exercise.  And there was the burly gentleman and his stocky barrell-chested rottweiler striding down the street.  Then I noticed the woman with curly hair, out for her power walk in her track suit, her well-groomed standard poodle trotting along beside her, never wavering from the path or even stopping to pee.  And I started to think about how the owners and pets not only resembled each other, but seemed to act a bit alike.

Then I looked down at my slightly goofy, happy, friendly yellow lab companion.  Besides those initial traits, I realized that we are both casual and kind of sporty, and both have dirty blonde hair.  Our walks are not precise or swift. They are more like strolls on a whim.  We go where the mood strikes, wandering back and forth across the street, sometimes walking, sometimes jogging, sometimes heading off into the field.  We are both easily distracted by shiny things – or in his case, furry things like squirrels and bunnies.  And I started to laugh – at that moment, we seemed to be two peas in a pod.  (He of course looked up at me with a “now what?” expression.)

I began to wonder how this happens.  Do we naturally but unknowingly choose pets that are the most similar to ourselves?  Could there be some sort of cosmic connection when a stray pet chooses us?  Or is it like with married partners, we over time become more alike?

A psychologist by the name of Dr. Lance Workman did studies of British pet owners several years ago, and determined that for a large part, people really do look like their dogs – because we are drawn to pets with similar physical attributes.  He more recently did a follow up study regarding whether or not pets and owners actually acted alike.

In his presentation of his findings, he indicated that “It could be that when you look for a dog, on some level that is largely subconscious, you look for something that is a bit like you. It is a bit like looking for a romantic partner; if they fit in, they will probably last.”  Interestingly, his study showed that contrary to popular assumption that toy dog owners are airheads, they actually came out on top with openness, creativity and intelligence.  He sited that Isaac Newton had a Pomeranian – because it was easy to handle and left his mind free for other things.

Those of you reading this who are NOT pet owners will no doubt think I’ve gone crazy.  But those of you who ARE pet owners are now looking in the mirror, then at your pet, wondering if you too make a matched set.  By the way, you cat owners out there are not excluded in this.  Cats are 90% personality – how closely does that personality match your own?

Sure, we silly pet owners tend to project human expressions and feelings upon our animals.  We certainly spoil them and treat them like members of the family.   When it comes down to it as a matter of fact, we treat them like we imagine we’d like to be treated if we were them….. huh.  Go figure.

 

In the group of photos below, one is a well-known celebrity, one is me…and the rest are unknown brave souls who have shared their images on the internet.  If any of you, dear readers, would be willing to send me a photo of you and your furry companion, I’d be thrilled to share it in a future post. 

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Posted on September 11, 2012 by Real Women

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And yet we survived

Posted on September 9, 2012 by Real Women

While planning the new season of church school, a group of us volunteer moms thought it would be nice to have bean bag chairs and pillows in the common area where we will gather the kids to start the lessons each Sunday.

We were soon told that is not a good idea — too much of a chance for passing along head lice.  If a child with lice lays on the pillows, it could transfer to another child. Perhaps those of you out there who are teachers or caregivers see this as a no-brainer, but I the volunteer-mom-Real Woman didn’t even think of that potential.  So no pillows. Disappointing, but understandable.

However… this one small event made me think of all the other health & safety precautions we take today that never dawned on any of us when I was a child.  Yes, most if not all of the precautions we take are for good reasons.  And yet when considering all of the products and advice out there today, I start to wonder if it is an amazing feat that those of us over the age of 40 survived at all in comparison.  Let’s consider just a few examples:

  •  The myriad of household baby-proofing products now available like outlet covers, cabinet locks and table edge cushions.  When I was toddling around, my mother just made sure I didn’t stick my fingers where they didn’t belong and kept me away from sharp objects.  Simple yet effective.
  •  Allergy-free food.  Throughout my son’s grade school years, he was prohibited from bringing in any snack food that could contain nut ingredients due to the potential of other kids in his class having nut allergies.  Similarly, there are warnings about those who are lactose intolerant, need glucose-free foods, and on and on.  There are very real and very scary potentially life-threatening allergies and illnesses out there, and there are just as many theories as to why there seem to be more now than ever before.  I could spend a month blogging about this issue, and venture into topics like the horrors of prepared & processed foods, high fructose corn syrup and more.  Instead, let’s just say that it is too bad we have to be so very careful now. In my school days, we could bring in baked goods to share, and we could eat whatever we brought from home.  In a nutshell (pardon the pun), we could eat and share without fear.
  •  Time alone.  As a  young girl growing up in the country, I could go off on my own for hours for long walks or bike rides or to meet friends. We all knew to be careful, and be home in time for dinner.  There were no cell phones to carry with us, no texting to check in.  I don’t remember ever being fearful.  Rather than “beware of evil strangers lurking”, my mother gave me sage advice like during hunting season, “wear bright clothes and sing when you are out in the woods so a hunter doesn’t think you are a deer.”   Today, however, I dread the first time I will let my son go off on his own on his bike — that dayis on the horizon, and I know I will be terrified to let him out of my sight.  Is everything truly that much more dangerous now?  Are there more evil scary dangerous people now?  Or are we just more aware?
  •  Helmets.  I am a firm believer that everyone should wear helmets for protection.  And yet I practically lived on a bicycle growing up and never wore one in those days.  Should I be amazed that with the spills I did take, like when I stupidly tried to dodge a bee when I was coasting down a big hill, that I did not suffer a massive brain injury?
  • Seat Belts. Again, I believe these to be vitally important, and no one rides in my car without one.  Yet…..oh, we spent so many hours in the family car growing up completely unharnessed.  My brother and I spent many family trips, including going all the way across the country and back, hanging out in the “way back” of the station wagon, sitting looking out the back window or laying down.  And miraculously, we lived to tell about it.

I’m sure you can all think of other examples.  There are so many ways we painstakingly take great care to ward off danger and evils that we never even considered then when we were  young.  This makes me wonder what it will be like when my son is grown, when he’s a middle-aged dad. Will he get up in the morning, wake his children from their individual cryogenic chambers, give them an antibiotic with breakfast then wrap them in bubble wrap before they head to school?

And as far as food goes, oh my…. will all food have to be processed through a sterilization chamber before consumption?   I’ve been seeing a growing trend of people going back to growing their own produce, shopping farmers markets, having free-range chickens for their own fresh, safe eggs — and even trying to buy “special” meat from grass-fed cows.  In 30 – 40 years, will everyone give up on the convenience of processed/packaged foods and revert back to the days of growing their own food like their ancestors did?

Who knows what it will be like. Hopefully we’ll all live long enough to find out.

I imagine that some day my grandchildren will share stories with friends while sitting on a bench on their health & safety committee-approved playground and will say things like  “oh yeah?  Well my grandma used to play dangerous games like Jarts and Horseshoes in her backyard — and she SURVIVED.”

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It’s OK to Have a Bad Day

Posted on September 5, 2012 by Real Women

I am generally a happy, positive-attitude kind of person.  I am thankful every day for the blessed life I have. I am healthy, have an awesome family, incredible friends, a good job, and a beautiful home.  Is my life perfect?  Well no, but I like to believe that achieving perfection would lead to boredom.

However…. This is a blog about being Real Women.  And every now and then all Real Women, even the Pollyannas among us, have crappy days.  It is true that I have a low tolerance for complainers; but admitting that we have some bad days is ok.  It makes us human.

There are about a million reasons why we may feel cruddy on any given day — and at least in my experience, a yucky day is often set off by something that in the grand scheme is truly minor.  Our moods can plummet because we are running late, we spill our coffee, our pet gets sick on the rug, we have a disagreement with a loved one, we have a bad hair day, get a cranky person on a work call, or it is raining.  Yes, relatively trivial matters can take the pep out of our step in a heartbeat.

I think our worst days happen because something, somehow has caused us to lose confidence in ourselves. We can handle any goofy thing that gets thrown at us when we are feeling confident and strong.  But put a notch in that armor and all bets are off.

Let me give you an example.  This morning I was feeling pretty good about the outfit I threw on, was having a decent hair day considering  92% humidity, and the morning routine had gone smoothly.  I got into my car, backed out into the driveway, went to adjust my rearview mirror, and there they were.  Bright new white hairs on my head.  I should know better than to ever look at myself in that mirror.  Thanks to the daylight streaming in and the closeness, that mirror is where all sorts of things come into view, literally.  Like new wrinkles, make-up smudges, and in this case, white or grey hair. Rather than ignore the mirror, I looked.  Then I couldn’t stop looking, and started obsessing.

By the time I completed my 15 minute ride to work, I had worked myself into a near panic.  How did I get this old this fast?  I’m trying to take care of myself, stay healthy, but I’m still get wrinkles, belly buldge, spider veins, white hair sprouts.  Are my sexy young days truly over?  The other day I attempted to squat down to look at a lower shelf in the grocery store and wasn’t sure if I could get back up again. Oh no.   If the first 40+ (ok, nearly 50) years went this fast, what about the next 30+?   I still have so much I want to do, places I want to go, I can’t be old yet!  Am I really doing everything I want and should be doing with my life?  Should I be trying harder to figure out what I really want to do professionally and personally for the rest of my life?   And so it went….

Of course from there anything else for my day seemed that much more challenging… it started raining. I needed to have a couple of conversations I was dreading.  I discovered that I had completely forgotten about a scheduled online chat with a couple of BFFs the night before.  I felt sluggish and tired. I was starting to feel overwhelmed with things I needed to get done.   I was missing some of my friends and family members.  And voila, I had worked myself into a bad day.

But here’s the funny thing.  As the day progressed, the gloom started to lift.  Quite literally the rain stopped and the sun came out.  Those conversations ended up not being so bad.  I received some emails that made me smile.  Someone gave me a compliment.   Best of all, in the lighting in the office bathroom, my white hairs virtually disappeared.

Over the course of the day, I started to talk myself off the irrational cliff I had climbed upon.  Sure, some of my thoughts and concerns are real, but I don’t have to conquer my fear of aging, plan my next 15 years of my career and give myself a makeover all in one morning.  I calmed down – but rather than reprimand myself for feeling blue, I gave myself permission to have a bad day.  After all, shouldn’t we all cut ourselves just a little bit of slack every now and then?

Just as long as I get back in the groove and start over fresh tomorrow…because no one likes a whiner.

 

 

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Creature Comforts

Posted on September 3, 2012 by Real Women

Most of us, as young children, had a beloved item that brought us great comfort.  It could have been a traditional teddy bear, a doll, a blanket, or even an old tshirt.  Whatever it was, it was a source of comfort at night, or when we were upset, and was our companion wherever we went.

I had a stuffed bear.  He was not especially soft and cuddly — he had a fairly hard body, jointed legs and arms, and he wasn’t traditionally cute (a factor my brother used to like to point out to me regularly.)  But he was Teddy, and I loved him thoroughly.  So thoroughly, as a matter of fact, that several times my mother had to replace the felt on the pads of his feet and his mouth.

I had quite a collection of stuffed animals, and I was of the belief that they had feelings and thoughts, and should be treated with love and respect. They were not to be mistreated, heaped on the floor or otherwise manhandled.  Chuckle and roll your eyes if you must, but consider that I grew up reading The Velveteen Rabbit… and years later my childhood belief was again “proven” in the wildly popular Toy Story movies. So there.  But I digress…

My son seemingly inherited my penchant for stuffed/plush critters.  He had many while he was young, and frequently a chosen one would join us on family outings and trips.  But the truly most beloved and cherished of all his belongings were his two small blankets, which we ever-so-creatively named Blue and Green.  Throughout his toddler years, Blue especially would go everywhere with him.  At any moment that he needed a touch of reassurance or comfort, he would bring one of the blankies up to his nose — it became a movement he made without even thinking about it, almost as second nature as taking a deep breath.

As is true with many of us who hold on to cherished items, I still have Teddy.  He currently resides on a top shelf in my son’s closet, next to a few of his early cherished plush friends and Blue and Green.  I noticed these old friends the other day while cleaning, and I started thinking about how we seem to outgrow the need for these sources of comfort.

But do we really?  Or do we just learn to seek out our sources of reassurance and comfort in other ways?  Perhaps as we age, we seek comfort in places, people, and experiences.  Certainly we find comfort in our spouses and partners.  But where else, or how else, do you feel most at ease?  Do you have a little niche place in your home that is your “me” spot?  How about the people in your life?  Are there a chosen few with whom you can truly just relax and be yourself and feel completely at ease?  Is there an activity you do that brings you comfort?  Do you have a pet who melts away your stress?

I hope all you other Real Women out there are not offended by what I’m about to say…. I believe that we Real Women, no matter how strong, intelligent and self-assured we are, need a few little “somethings” that bring us back to that same safe, warm, comforted zone we experienced as children.   No, I’m not proposing we all dig out our dolls and teddy bears and bring them to work with us.  But certainly we should all make time at least once a week to escape to that comfy chair under a blanket, or connect with that BFF soul mate, or sit quietly with your cat in your lap and recharge….it doesn’t matter what that “something” is, and it is secret and personal only to you.  But in that zone, we can breathe easy, let our guards down, and feel comforted.

Then we can put our Big Girl pants back on and go back to saving the world.

 

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Leading by Example?

Posted on August 29, 2012 by Real Women

I’m about to talk about a topic that many say should be avoided between family, co-workers and friends: politics.

Have no fear, I’m not going to pontificate on which presidential candidate I think should win, nor which party is better than the other.  Let me clearly state that I am an Independent, not affiliated with either the Republican or the Democratic Party.   Yes, I tend to lean towards one vs. the other, but I’m not going to get into that here.  I will also admit that for the past several years of presidential elections, I have not been whole-heartedly thrilled with ANY candidate.  As my mother once said, it often feels like voting for the least of the evils.

I will also admit that I am not highly knowledgeable in the ways of government, and have had no formal education in politics.  I am just your average Real Woman who must withstand the endless monotony of the current Presidential race and the media coverage thereof.  So instead of getting into some sort of heated debate on the issues, I’d like to focus on just two of the areas in the political arena that bother me the most.

First:  It seems quite apparent to me that it would be impossible for a poor, or even lower middle-class, man or woman to ever be elected to become President.   If you are not already wealthy, or don’t have incredible fund-raising capabilities, no need to apply.  Running a campaign to win a presidential primary can currently range in cost from $50 – $100 million.  But wait — there’s more.  When the nominees begin campaigning for the general election, another $75 million is spent.  Many of us have at one time in our lives done fund raising for a charity or non-profit organization, and understand how difficult it can be to raise even $5,000, let alone these remarkable numbers.  Is it any wonder that many of us feel that candidates are out of touch with reality as to what it is truly like to be poor or struggling to pay the bills?

Imagine if you were hoping to be elected to a Board of Directors, or to a civic organization… and you were told “well, sure, we’ll consider you — if you’ve got $40 million dollars to invest.”  How ludicrous!  Think of the incredibly wise, talented people you know in your life who could potentially be a great leader.  But with that sort of monetary barrier, they will most likely never even come close to a high office.  I hope I will some day be proven wrong.  I hope some day we will elect someone because he or she is brilliant, honest, has great leadership abilities — and has barely enough money to buy a good suit.

Second:  The B.S. Factor.  If I were to ask you to name 5 clear examples of where each candidate stands on issues, and what they plan to do as solutions when they are elected, would you be able to?  Conversely, if I ask who’s birth certificate was in question, and who is rumored to have overseas accounts, you’d know immediately.   We know more about the candidates families, personal quirks and even religious faith than we do about whether or not they could do the job.  Mudslinging and personal attacks have unfortunately been political tactics for hundreds of years.  But now it seems to be even worse, and happens as soon as campaigns kick into gear.  No longer is mudslinging a last-ditch attempt to attack an opponent’s character.  It is an immediate and up front strategy.

Imagine again, if you will…. you are interviewing for a new job. And the interviewer explains to you “We really have no idea whether or not you are capable of doing this job. But the other candidate for this position told us you are a cat-hater, so we just can’t trust you.”   Yes, it sounds like I’m over-simplifying the situation. But am I really?  Could anyone get away with any of this in the real world?

I read an article today by a pre-journalism sophomore from Arizona by the name of Dan Derochers, and I believe he said it eloquently: “While mudslinging may be effective in getting a candidate elected, it divides the two political parties. Right now we don’t need a candidate who is good at being mean, and we don’t need a candidate who won a dirty election. We need a  candidate with the ability to lead. We need a candidate who can unite the two parties so that they can finally agree on something and stop trying to repeal health care reform for the 31st time.”

And let’s look at it one more way.  We spend a lot of time and energy teaching our children to respect each other, to play nice, to be kind to others. We all strongly support the anti-bullying movements that are sweeping through our schools.  So why should it be ok for our children to turn on the news and see the potential Leader of the Free World doing everything we tell them not to do?  What kind of example is that?

In November, I will perform my American duty and I will cast my vote.  But I can’t say with all confidence that I will be comfortable with my decision unless this “competition” changes for the better — and soon.

 

 

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Roughing It

Posted on August 26, 2012 by Real Women

Once or twice each summer, we go camping. We pack up our tent and supplies and head out for a weekend under the stars. 

Naturally, “camping” means a wide range of things to a variety of people. There are those who can strap a small tent to their backs, hike for hours into the wilderness and happily survive like boy scouts with few provisions or comforts.  On the opposite end of the spectrum are the RV’ers who drive massive vehicles that are larger than my first apartment, and are generally extended-stay visitors at their favorite campgrounds.  They have brought all the comforts of home with them.

We lie somewhere in between.  I think of myself as a Real Women Tent Camper.  Yes, we are “roughing it” more than some of those RV folks, and I have friends who say “happy for you, but there’s no way I’d do that.”  But over the years we have made some alterations —  we stay at campsites with provided fire pits and some basic services, and we sleep on air mattresses, not the hard ground. We carry a large assortment of supplies in my husband’s van, so I feel relatively prepared for anything. I do give up a handful of conveniences, like the hair dryer stays home, we use lanterns and flashlights at night instead of electricity, and I know how to – and do when necessary – pee in the woods.

Our favorite place to camp is a small privately owned tents-only facility in the hills of Vermont. It is beautiful, quiet and at times we feel like we have the place all to ourselves. It is fabulous.  Conversely, this weekend we camped in Maine at what we call “community camping” — lots of RV’s, close neighbors and virtually no privacy.  It was clean, well maintained and the people were friendly… just not our usual kind of place.  However, it did give me a chance to observe the other Real Women campers.  There are those lucky natural women who can roll out of their tent or camper, splash water on their face, throw on hiking boots, and look beautiful.  I believe these are the same women I mentioned above who can happily live with a bag of trail mix in the wilderness.  Then there are the women who want to closely resemble the woman they are at home… I met a young lady in the public restroom one morning who was using the electricity there to use a flat iron on her hair; she had already done her make-up and was doing her best to look like she was NOT camping.  However, I think the majority of the women were more like me.  Staring into a small mirror, wondering if I needed to spend 50 cents for a 10 minute shower, or if I could get by with putting my hair up in a pony tail and putting on a bit of mascara to look presentable enough to venture into town for souvenirs.

Truly, there are pro’s and con’s to our camping weekends. The older we get, the less comfortable it is. Even in quite environments, we don’t sleep as well as we do at home. Rain can be a major and unwanted issue to deal with.  Camping is dirty. There is no doubt we will end up smelling like campfire.  And the packing and unpacking process can be a pain in the patoot.  (Especially when contending with rain).

That said, I still believe the pro’s make the effort worthwhile. Camping is still much more affordable than hotel stays. The sight-seeing can be spectacular.  We all step away from regular responsibilities, chores and electronics and actually talk with each other, read, and relax.  Traditions are created, like making s’mores over the campfire. There are glimpses of simple joys like watching your son navigate the stream behind the campsite, or sleeping with his arm draped over the happily exhausted family dog. And you just can’t beat the feeling of either sitting out at night with the campfire, looking at the moon and stars, or waking up to the start of another peaceful sunny cool morning filled with promise and fresh air.

Tonight we are back home, the camping gear is stored away for the season, the multiple loads of laundry are started, I was blissfully happy to take a long shower and I look forward to the comfort of my own bed.  But I’m also happy that we had perfect weather this weekend, made more tent memories, have new inside jokes between us, and a batch of fun photos for the scrapbook.

 

 

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Chivalry, I Still Like You

Posted on August 22, 2012 by Real Women

As a child of the 70’s and a young woman of the 80’s, I grew up hearing about equality and women’s rights.  The momentum that had begun in the 50’s and 60’s was now coming to life in very noticeable ways by women like Billie Jean King, Gloria Steinen and Nora Ephron.

By being surrounded by independent women in the news who were breaking through previously perceived barriers, it never occurred to me that I couldn’t do whatever I wanted to do as a grown Real Woman.  My mother, who was a stay-at-home mom, never once seemed weak or submissive. She ran the house and family with strength, intelligence and dedication.   All of the role models we had in those days built the Real Women we all are today.

Granted, it hasn’t always been a piece of cake in the world of equality, and a lot has thankfully changed in the past 30 years.  For example, sexual harrassment in the workplace was something you just handled on your own — before there was actually a term for it, or divisions of Human Resources Departments dedicated to its prevention.  In 8th grade, I was on our school’s first ever girl’s soccer team – we just didn’t have one before that.  And one of the shocking elements of the hit movie Flashdance in ’83 was that the female lead was a Welder by trade – gasp, not a secretary!

Belief in equality is of course ingrained in me as a sort of “no-brianer.”  Of course if I’m doing the same or better job as my male counterparts, I should be treated, and rewarded, equally.  If I’m in a meeting, I expect to be listened to with respect for what I have to say – I’m not there simply to take notes on the eloquence that falls from other’s lips.  And after all these years of busting my butt exercising and strength training, don’t treat me as if I’m a fragile flower that will break in a strong breeze.

And yet…. all that said….is it so wrong to still enjoy being treated as a “lady”?   Last week a Real Woman co-worker and I stopped at a sandwich shop to pick something up for lunch.  A man reached the entrance at the same time as we did, yet he opened the door for us, and let us go in and order ahead of him.  We thanked him, it was a very nice gesture and appreciated.  Similarly, I completely appreciate that my husband takes on some traditional “manly” duties around the house – like taking out the trash, washing the car, and doing various home maintenance chores.  Could I manage those things on my own? Of course I could.  But do I love that I don’t have to? Of course I do.

If a man wants to step in and remove the ugly gross bug that may be crawling up the wall next to me, feel free.  If a man offers to help me when I’m struggling to carry something heavy, he’ll have my gratitude.  And if sometimes, when as a Real Woman I’m on tilt-overwhelmed mode, it is really nice to have my husband’s strong shoulder to cry on.

Perhaps Gloria and Billie Jean would be shaking their heads in dismay at me (but not Nora, I think she would of understood).  And it is no wonder that men proclaim to find us women confusing – in one breath we are scolding them for not treating us like one of the guys, yet in the next we are hoping they will hold the door for us with a smile.  Perhaps to clarify for them, I’d simply point out that there is a line between condescending and chivalrous, and they just need to know the difference.

So for the record, yes, I am a strong, independent, educated Real Woman….and I still really like moments of chivalry.

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