We Real Women need to share good tips when we have them. Here’s one from me to you today: Need a dessert in half an hour or less that looks special & tastes yummy? I’ve made these Cream Puffs a couple of times, get rave reviews and they are incredibly easy! If you want to cheat even more, used hershey’s syrup on the top in place of melted chocolate.
Enjoy! (And thank you to those fabulous people at Kraft Foods for this recipe)
I’m trying to remember what it was like to decide to do something, and just get up and do it. A time when I didn’t have to make 356 arrangements in order to make something happen. I’m sure I had spontaneity in my life at some point… I just don’t remember what it felt like.
We Real Women are like Air Traffic Controllers…. or perhaps it is more like Army Logistics Coordinators. (Anyone keeping track yet of all the roles we play?). If you have a spouse or partner, or even live only with pets, you have to consider others when making plans. If you have other family members living with you, especially children, you automatically have even more coordination that has to be done when attempting to do any activity whatsoever.
Even simple matters are not so simple. Let’s say your child has a doctor’s appointment. If it is during the school year, there are dismissals to arrange, or timing around school and activities. If it is during the summer, there is camp or other activities to plan around. And that is just for the child. Then there is the decision of who is taking the child to the appointment – which parent, or caretaker? If it is a parent, which one of you can re-arrange your schedule or take time of off work to go? You get the picture… and I know you live it every day like I do.
This air traffic control or mobile-army maneuvering gets even more complex when planning something more substantial, say a few days off for a family vacation. The other day I had to laugh as my husband and I discussed the coordination needed just to go away for a couple of days for a little family getaway. Some of the conversations went like this:
“When do you want to leave on Thursday?”
“It would be great to leave mid-day, can you get out early?”
“I think so, how about you?”
“I can leave at noon…no, wait, I can’t. I had a meeting get scheduled…I could get out more like 2pm.”
“I’ll tell the sitter that we won’t need her that afternoon, since we’ll be home early so we can leave.”
“What do you want to do about the dog? Board him, or ask the dog sitters to come by and take care of him?”
After a discussion about the pro’s and con’s and costs of taking care of the dog, the matter is settled and arrangements for him are made. A couple of days later, we continued:
“Wait, I forgot. What about our son’s music lesson that night?”
“Oh, geez. Can the instructor do another night?”
“Not sure, I can find out. If not, we’ll have to just leave later.”
“Ok, let’s find out. If we leave later, I’ll change plans slightly with the dog sitter, and child care, and accept another meeting request I got at work.”
“Alright, but let’s be packed and ready to go so we can still get there in time for dinner that night..”
And on and on….
If it is an even larger event, say a lengthier vacation involving flight travel, the planning (and packing!) has to start months in advance. And if it is just one of us, a Real Woman who is going away, say on a work trip, it gets no easier. Prepping ourselves is the least of the challenge. Making sure all is coordinated and arranged to carry on life as usual while we are away is where our planning skills are put to the test.
I am blessed to have the life I have, really I am. Luckily my mother instilled Planning DNA in me, so I don’t really mind taking on the logistics of every day. But sometimes, just sometimes… I daydream about waking up, saying “hey, let’s go to Bermuda!” and just doing it. Maybe some day I’ll pretend to be that spontaneous – after I’ve got it all planned, of course.
If you are an athlete, a person in peak physical condition, who works out at least 2 hours every day without fail, this is not the post for you. You have my admiration and a bit of my jealousy. But today I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about the majority of us Real Women who have that daily/weekly struggle to keep pounds off and muscle tone on.
This week while standing in the check-out line at the grocery store, I was scanning the covers of the week’s magazines. Since we are in the summer season, at least one of them trumpeted “The best bodies inHollywood” and displayed unbelievable, unrealistic near-naked men and women, the beautiful people with flawlessly fit bodies. And the overwhelming feeling I had in looking at the cover was one of mild depression. What good, really, does it do to show us Real Women these images? My guess is that 98% of us never did look like that, and never will. So why taunt and flaunt unrealistic images to just make us feel bad? And with the Olympics just around the corner, we soon will have astoundingly fit extreme athletes flying across our TV screens every night, making us feel both proud and inferior at the same time.
Growing up as a child, I was not athletic. But I was active. In those days “play time” meant being busy outdoors most of the day, making up games, running around, shooting hoops in the driveway, playing four-square, hopscotch, etc. As I got older, if I wanted to go see a friend, most of the time I hopped on my bike and pedaled 5 miles or so to my nearest friend’s house. I would often take long walks either by myself or with my dog, just for something to do. Yet even with this activity, I was not sports-minded or athletic. I was usually one of the last chosen to be on a team. This was primarily because I was one of those girls who was about 90 pounds soaking wet, wore glasses, and looked like I’d snap like a toothpick in a strong wind. Yes, I was nerdy. In those days, a student rarely did both music and sports, you picked one or the other. For me, it was music. Although, I am proud to say that my best friend and I were on my school’s very first women’s soccer team. But for me, team sports were short-lived.
It wasn’t until after college that I became more fitness-minded. And for a period of time, basically through my 20’s and early 30’s, I was in very good condition. I had a bit of a love affair with aerobics and bicycling. I am one of those lucky ones who still to this day actually enjoys, for the most part, exercising. I just love how it feels, especially when I’m done with a good workout. I am well aware that not all Real Women feel the way I do. Many of us claim to “hate” exercise. Sure, taking a nap, or sitting down to a big ol’ piece of cake often sounds more appealing than a 60-minute strength-training workout, but it feels great when it is over – not always the case after that big piece of cake. Hence the love-hate relationship. We all run a wide range on the fitness/exercise schedule. Some of us don’t do any form of exercise, at least not regularly. Some of us force ourselves to do at least something minor a couple times a week. And others of us try to fit in some form of activity daily, including some fairly substantial workouts. We all have our reasons, and our goals. Some of us want to shed weight. Some of us just want to feel better. Some of us need to build a stronger heart. Some of us just want to lose a few pounds, and tone up. Many of us are just battling our aging, changing bodies.
And therein lies the hardest truth to all of this. The older we get, the harder it is to maintain a so-called “hard body.” Or, who am I kidding, even a “slightly soft body.” In my teen years, my girlfriend and I would think nothing of sitting down regularly to a gigantic sundae at Friendly’s, knowing well that it would have seemingly no effect on our body weight, with no need to go run a mile to work it off. We apparently had the metabolism of hummingbirds. Then in my early adulthood, all I had to do was cut out some snacks, add about an hour of exercise to my weekly routine, and ta-da, I dropped 5 pounds and toned up.
Not so anymore. Eating fairly healthy and working out regularly only seems to help in avoiding gaining pounds. It does nothing for losing, and the effects of aging apparently are far stronger in this battle of good vs. evil. Gravity pulls all my parts south, no matter how hard I try to tone them back upwards. My legs have less tone and more spider veins. My tummy bulge seems to be a permanent addition, no matter how many miles I bike and abdominal exercises I add in. Fess up, how many of you do the same thing I do in front of the mirror when no one else is around – sucking it in, and lifting your skin up to remember what it used to be like 20 years ago?
Granted, I know that there are women my age out there who still look amazing. They have far more willpower than I when it comes to eating right, and they are at the gym far more hours than I am. I have to admit some very basic things: I have a busy life with my family and my job, and I love chocolate. Neither of those facts lend themselves to me eating just lettuce and living at the gym. We Real Women with real bodies are the majority. We should get extra points and kudos for any steps we make towards being healthy, and we should find joy in how we look and feel, when we are doing the best we can do.
I’m all for encouraging exercise and eating right. I’m all for each of us rooting each other on to be healthier, make good changes to live longer and stronger, and not be sloths. But in that vain, I hope that someday I can create a magazine cover, or encourage another publisher to do so, that shows Real Women, with real bodies, in real outfits, looking great and….well, realistic. No 102-pound celebs in string bikini’s. Why not for a change show a working mom, who’s working hard to whittle away at her 20 extra pounds, in a cute one-piece swimsuit and sarong? Why not show a middle-aged woman hiding her flaws in a pretty sundress and flip-flops? Isn’t it time to share real images and real tips on how to look good and be happy the way we are?
We deserve our own cover shots that will make us say “See? THIS is how real women look. And you know what? We look pretty darn hot.”
Other than CPR training, and some basic biology and physiology courses when I was younger, I’ve never been a medical student. I am not licensed to dispense medical treatments. Neither, as far as I know, are the majority of my friends, co-workers and acquaintances. And yet, I, and every other Real Woman I know, play the role from time to time of nurse or therapist for our loved ones.
Those of us who are moms somehow are granted the title of Home Nurse as soon as the first child exits the birth canal. For some reason, more so in many ways than our male counterparts, we are to magically know what to do for our children in case of illness, injury, and emotional and mental anguish. Some of this knowledge is obtained through research (how many of us have reached out to Web MD and others to look up symptoms and causes for a variety of maladies to determine treatment?), and yet much of our Home Nurse knowledge is based on natural instinct, communication with other moms, and lore handed down to us from previous generations. Much like Witch Doctors in other cultures.
And for those of us who are not moms, you are not immune to the Nurse Role. If you have a man in your life, family members, or pet(s), you are also Home Nurse. You are the one with the stamina, inherent wisdom, and calmness in the face of crisis….even if you don’t think you are equipped for the responsibility, it will inevitably still fall to you. Ironically, when caring for the men in our life, it takes them hearing your advice from another friend, relative, or true professional in the medical field, for them to believe you. And of course they will act like it is a new treatment or revelation, certainly not something you have been telling them for the past three weeks.
Let’s take a moment to think about some of the routine “medical” decisions we make on a regular basis.
This morning, after working with my son on the arduous task of taking a pill, and cleaning out my dog’s ears, I took off my nurse’s uniform and headed to work. On the way, I got to thinking about how my mom was of course our Home Nurse growing up…. And I started to wonder about the home-remedies she applied to each of us, some of which I still use, many of them I have long since dismissed. Tell me if any of you experienced these same treatments:
What traditional remedies do you remember? Please feel free to share, I’d love to hear them.
Perhaps some of our treatments have changed over time…. or some of us may find that we still default to the wisdom of our moms or grandmothers, unknowingly passing along traditions that our kids may then use on their loved ones. They may even say “I don’t know why my mom did this, but it always worked.” And I guess therein lies our answer as to why we friends/wives/mothers/pet owners are also Home Nurses. Because we are the caretakers. We are that comforting face, that welcoming hug, that assumed wisdom.
We just make it better.
“I can rub & scrub this old house til it’s shinin like a dime
Feed the baby, grease the car, & powder my face at the same time
Get all dressed up, go out and swing til 4 a.m.and then
Lay down at 5, jump up at 6, and start all over again
‘Cause I’m a woman, w-o-m-a-n..” — Peggy Lee
Let’s face it, ladies. We Real Woman are constantly struggling to maintain our alternate identity: Super Woman. Even back in the 60’s Peggy Lee gave us a song that celebrated how we can do it all, and with style. Pile it on, we can take it. After all, we are capable of child birth – anything else is easy by comparison, right? Somewhere along the way in our lives, we each come to the belief or understanding that we have super strength. Not the kind that oozes out of Super Man, but more in the form fortitude, stamina, and resilience. In the 60’s, Peggy was singing about taking care of home and household. In the 21st century, we still do all that and more – multiple careers, volunteer work, more involvement in our children’s activities, social obligations, travel, and the list goes on.
We wear our Super Woman powers as a matter of pride. Admittedly, we even sometimes slip into a bit of a martyr role (how many times have we rolled our eyes and vented to friends about how we have to pick up the slack at home, or work, or….?). No matter what, we carry on…. UNTIL…. Yes – gasp – there are some times in our lives when we are forced to slow down. Forced to take our capes off temporarily. Times when our bodies are saying “enough already.”
Much to my chagrin, I have been a bit under the weather for a few days. Nothing major, but I have been forced to slow down – and I’m finding it extremely annoying. You have to understand that I am one of those lucky souls who rarely ever get sick. I’m not sure if I just have a knack for dodging germs, or I was blessed with a strong immune system, but whatever the reason, I am content to keep flying along in my little Super Woman costume the majority of the time (someone please, knock on wood for me!). So suddenly feeling yucky and having very little energy is just not something I accept gracefully. Last night after a work event, I came home and went to bed. I didn’t do any laundry, or dishes, or cleaning…nothing. Today I actually left work early to go to the Doctor. This to me is like having Super Woman admit she has to go in for a tune-up. Then I came home and actually sat and read a magazine because I didn’t have the energy to do much else. I haven’t exercised in five days, another rather unheard of situation. Good news of course is it is nothing serious, and I should be able to put my cape back on in another day or so. And I feel completely blessed once again that I AM a healthy person and not battling an illness or disability – and have an even greater appreciation for those out there who are waging serious battles with their health.
My slow-down started me thinking about all of the other Real/Super Women in my life. How so many of you keep flying, fighting the bad guys, taking on the world, with little rest. And how even the strongest, best of us sometimes are forced to stop and hang up the cape. Just for a little while. I realize of course that this is necessary. Because no matter how much we hate to admit it, we are all human. We really don’t have super powers. We have to take care of ourselves, refuel and re-energize when necessary. And we can’t feel guilty about it. We need to give in, just a bit, and let others in our lives carry on for us for a few days. And guess what? The world will keep turning, the people in our lives will not starve. Sure, the house may get dirty, the piles on your desk at work may get a bit higher, and the laundry glaciers may grow.
But have no fear – in no time at all Super Woman will be back, and her cape will be clean and ready and will still fit just fine.
One recent morning, my husband and I were watching the local news. The anchor team was interviewing a young man who was about to embark on a journey to explore all of the coasts of the United States on a Jet Ski — all the way from Maine around to Washington. When he was asked why he was doing it he replied “I want to see stuff.” Then, almost as an after thought, he added “and my message is to kids to follow their dreams.” I said to my husband “How is it that someone could put the rest of their life on hold, and have the financial wherewithall to do something like that?” My husband replied “that is not normal peoples’ reality.”
In a way he is right. There is a small percentage of the world’s population that become those that achieve “greatness.” They are adventurers, great scholars and scientists, professional athletes, political leaders, and celebrities. They are the unique individuals who Tweet about doing things on their days off like scuba diving off a tropical island or attending a designer fashion show when the rest of us are doing our laundry and cleaning our homes. There will always be those that make news for the unique and unusual successes they achieve. The rest of us are busy achieving less lofty goals in our own realities.
I completely believe that we should encourage our children to reach for their dreams — that virtually anyone is capable of achieving their goals. My only concern is if we push them to fulfill their dreams, are we in danger of setting them up for unreasonable feelings of failure if they don’t quite achieve them? Are we telling them that just being “good” isn’t enough?
I will always support and encourage my son to dream big and go for those dreams. If he wants to be a world traveler, a rock star, an Olympic diver, or a great inventor, I will cheer him on and be his #1 fan. However — if he doesn’t become one of those, and instead “just” becomes a healthy, happy man with a good heart, a kind soul, a good education, finds work he enjoys and is able to pay his bills, and strives to have a beneficial impact on others or the environment, I will be no less proud of him — perhaps even more.
If you ask anyone who their hero or role models are, they may respond with a few well-known names of those in that “greatness” category. But even more likely, they will name people like their mom, a childhood teacher, a coach, a soldier, or a loved one battling a disability or illness. That’s right, the majority of our true heroes and role models are the “real” people in our lives.
So how do we encourage our children to achieve big dreams, but at the same time let them know it is ok if they don’t quite reach that “greatness” level? I think the best way is to lead by example. It is vital that we all, no matter our age or stage of life, have dreams and goals. Even if those dreams and goals change and adjust over time. As for me, before I leave this life, I would love to be a successful published author, travel to see more of the world, and volunteer more to help those less fortunate than I. If I am able to achieve any of those goals, I will feel lucky and blessed. However, if I don’t quite make it, will I lay on my deathbed filled with regret and remorse? Geeez, I certainly hope not. What kind of example would I be setting for the next generations? I’d much rather have an attitude of peace and gratitude, and say “wow, what a great ride I had!”
So, Real Women, what do you say we all make a promise to each other? The promise is to reach for the stars, and encourage our children to stretch even further to grab those stars even higher than ours — but at the same time, we must remember to recognize and appreciate that our ordinary lives are already pretty darn extraordinary.
There is a saying that “you can’t pick your family, but you can pick your friends.” I suppose this is true for the most part. You are born into your family, so the bonds there are permanent. Through ups and downs, agreements and disagrements, you will always hold on to the core connection with your family members because “blood is thicker than water.”
And, it is true, of the people you meet in your life, there are some with whom at some point you make the decision to move beyond acquaintenances and toward friendship. But I have a theory that at least for the strongest friend connections, there is a big dose of Fate that is involved as well.
We all have friends who have seemingly come and gone in our lives. It is virtually impossible to stay closely connected to every one of our friends from childhood through adulthood. (For that matter, the same holds true with extended family!). Even though the miracles of Social Media have helped many of us get re-acquainted, we just don’t always stay deeply bonded with past friends. Yet we hold great memories of time together, even if it spans decades. Luckily, with some of the friends whom we haven’t seen in a long time, even years, we still hold a unique connection so that if the opportunity arises to connect in person, we know darn well that “click” will still be there, and we will have a great visit.
Where Fate comes in, I believe, is with those friends who for whatever reason came into your life at the moment they did, in the manner they did, and have never left. These individuals are your closest friends, your personal Board of Directors. They each bring with them their own personalities, experiences, outlooks on life…. Yet at least one or two of their traits completely melds with yours. I also believe that these folks help mold who you are as a person. Some become so close they are like the proverbial “soul sister” and you can’t imagine life without them. And what is truly fascinating is how you met in the first place. Take a moment and think about your own Board of Directors. How did Fate get you to meet? Assigned as college room-mates? Bumped into each other getting coffee? Both chose the same instrument to learn in grade school?
For me, one of the most common places I have found friends is through work. This makes sense, as we spend up to 10 hours a day with these people, often for years at a time. One of my dearest friends I met at my very first job out of college – and I will honestly admit that wasn’t just yesterday! The challenge to a work-friend bond is when one, or both of you, no longer work together. Do you stay in touch? Does the friendship still grow? Some do, and they are awesome.
There are also the precious few childhood relationships that we make that last well into our adulthood. I’m not talking about college friends, I’m going back much farther than than. One of my longest (notice I didn’t say oldest!) friendships is with a BFF that I met when I was 10 years old on the school bus. Why did fate have her sit next to me? Why did two little shy girls get brave enough to connect? And how is it we never stopped? Talk about history – of all the life changes and experiences we’ve had, we have been there for each other, and still are. Pretty amazing.
And then there are the friendships that you have to truly believe are Fate-based. One of my BFF’s literally moved into the house next door to me. I’m still amazed that somehow THAT happened, just about 12 years ago, when we both apparently needed it…she and her family moved in as neighbors and they quickly became far more than neighbors or even friends… more like an extension of our family.
I think it may be harder for men to develop close friendships than it is for women. I think we are just more social, open creatures. So for men, perhaps they not only need fate, but some encouragement from others to make those bonds. But once accomplished, they can be just as strong as any. Don’t ever insult a dude’s dude.
One more note about that personal Board of Directors, as well as the other people in your life. I will admit that if it wasn’t for email and texting, I would be in much less frequent contact with the majority of important people in my life. Yes, I feel a bit guilty admitting that, but it is true. However… email, texting, phone calls, even old-fashioned handwritten letters (remember doing those?) are fine for staying in touch….but NOTHING can replace that in-person connection. Fate may have arranged that first meeting. Life experiences have created that bond. But it is up to you to make it human and real. Go see a friend this weekend. You’ll be glad you did.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a road trip to take to a BFF’s house.
You have been behaving. You are eating healthier, consuming more fruits and veggies. Exercising more. Cutting back on junk food and fatty foods. Feeling pretty darn proud of yourself.
Then it happens. For no apparent reason, and with no warning. You hit a day where you just can’t possibly get enough food, especially bad-for-you food, into your system. By the time you are on your 3rd fatty snack and it is only 10am, you realize you have fallen victim to: A Garbage Day. You know it is wrong, but you can’t stop yourself. Nothing is safe – you start carb-loading, you hunt down any form of sugary sweet you can find, you have pizza or a greasy burger for lunch…. It is like an alien has taken over your body and decided that your stomach is a trash can. Sure, sometimes we can blame these days on our hormones or our stress levels. But other times, there seems to be no rhyme or reason. Everything tastes good, and yet you are not satisfied. After lunch you are still hungry. You are shocked and slightly repulsed by the quantity and variety of food you have consumed.
Then you hit the Garbage Day Wall. All of the food you have taken in is sitting in your stomach like a bowling ball. You start to ask yourself “why? Why did I just do that to myself?” And then the part that makes me laugh, even though I have done it countless times to myself…. You make a vow that you won’t eat anything again for 3 days… you will Fast and drink only water until you feel better. We know darn well that vow will probably only last until dinner time.
I’m not sure why Garbage Days happen, and without warning. I know I’m not completely alone here, I have girlfriends who have commiserated with me about experiencing their own Garbage Days – come on, Real Women, fess up. We have all fallen victim at some point to this phenomena. I have learned that it just isn’t worth beating ourselves up over it. What’s done is done, and as long as a Garbage Day doesn’t turn into a Garbage Week or Garbage Month, there shouldn’t be too many lasting effects. Chalk it up to another exciting feature in the life of a Real Woman, take a Tums, and make yourself a salad. Tomorrow is another day, and your healthy self will be there waiting.
She was smart, funny, successful, talented, and a truly exceptional writer. Even though Nora Ephron worked with Hollywood most of her life, she remained a true Real Woman’s woman. Thank you, Nora, for bringing laughter and reality into our lives.
We all have our “Happy Places”. Those places we go either virtually or in reality that allow us a little break from the crazier more stressful parts of our lives. We all need them, and they can be secret and personal, known only to you – or blatant and obviously announced, as in “I’m going to my Happy Place and no one can stop me!”
Fantasy Happy Places are those images or thoughts we can pull from that file cabinet drawer in the back of our mind when we need to just stop and breathe and find a little peace. Your fantasy Happy Place could be a tropical island, the top of a mountain, a boat in the middle of the ocean, someplace warm and cozy with a special loved one, or a high-end spa with Sven the handsome masseuse catering to your every need. These Fantasy Happy Places are great because they are truly portable. You can go there at any moment when needed – when you are stuck in traffic, when you are stressed and overwhelmed at work, or maybe when your child is having a temper tantrum. Take a deep breath and conjure up that Fantasy Happy Place.
Uncommon Happy Places are real, but they aren’t something you get to experience frequently… so they may exist in your memory bank, to be brought back when needed. Walking on your favorite beach, exploring a quiet stream with your child, having a successful shopping trip, going out for a therapeutic Chick’s Night (or Board Meeting, as I call them)…. Those are all very real, very do-able, but not necessarily something you can do in reality at a moment’s notice. They are extra special because you really have experienced them in your past, so that warm fuzzy feeling comes back quickly.
Common Happy Places are your daily go-to moments. At the end of a long, tiring day, where is your Happy Place? Is it going for a walk with your dog? A long bike ride? Is it sitting in your favorite rocker just staring out your window? Is it laying down on your big comfy bed? How about, Real Women, that Happy Place of locking yourself in your bathroom for a bubble bath? For me, one of my many Happy Places in the summer is my flower garden. After work, I’ll roam out to my backyard and see what has bloomed that day. It is hard to be grumpy when you are looking at some of nature’s wonders…. How do you NOT smile when looking at a clump of daisies? Sure, my wandering also brings to mind an inventory of the maintenance items I need to do out there – the weeds to be pulled, the deadheads to be clipped, the pots to be watered – but I try to force those out of my mind, or at least make a list of them to deal with later. I just breathe and let any yuck from the day disappear in the face of a rose. Then I pad back to the house, maybe taking a couple of cut flowers with me, and promise myself I’ll visit again tomorrow – because I need to take advantage of this particular Happy Place while it is available, before the blooms fade in the heat of mid-summer. And when that happens, I’ll move on to a different Happy Place. Like sitting on the edge of the pool with a fruity drink in hand.
Ahhhhhh. Happy.
Real Women 