What's stopping YOU???

The cool thing about getting older is truly the wisdom that comes with having had so many life experiences. It is totally true that I am wiser now than ever. And I am really liking myself so much more now than ever. Have you ever had a moment where you kind think to yourself, "I like me"? And REALLY mean it??? I've had that happen to me this week, honestly, for the first time ever in my life that I can remember.

I see my twenty-something friends struggling both financially and emotionally. Your twenties can be such a hard time--finding your way in the world; planning who you're going to be for the rest of your life and all the pressures that come with it. Younger people feel like time is their enemy and they have to do it NOW or never. And it's funny, cuz whenever I see some old geezer driving five miles an hour under the speed limit I think, "you'd think he'd go a little faster cuz his days are numbered" and when I see some young woman stressed out behind the wheel clearly speeding I think, "What's her rush?"

I have come to understand so much about life, and a lot of this understanding comes from experiencing adversity and overcoming it. That's where maturity begins. I am so impressed with my twenty-something friends--most of them are in school trying to better themselves and set up a good financial future and working full-time. Some have kids already, and yet still independent. Some still live at home with parents, but struggling to get out of their situation. I see the optimism and energy they have and it's so fun to be around them. I think they are amazing people.

I have noticed that something interesting happens to many, many people as they leave their twenties and move into their thirties. I think being in your thirties has got to be the toughest age so far. My thrity-something friends lament to me about still not being married, or rich, still stuck in a dead-end job, and wanting so much more for themselves but somehow not understanding why they don't have everything they say the desire so badly. For my married friends in their thirties, I see them struggle to "have it all"--trying to be mommy and wifey and employee and still stay thin and sexy and eat right and exercise and keep a clean house. Societies' standards for women, AND for men, ruin people and ruin relationships.

We can thank the media for screaming at us everywhere we turn. We are inundated with direct and subliminal messages that we are less than constantly. I used to think that just muting the commercials on TV was enough, but now we've got Facebook ads and pop-up ads for diet this and diet that and you can't even Google a single thing without ads prompting you to "buy this and have better skin" or "eat this not that." It's EVERYWHERE. And no matter how hard you try to eliminate the chatter from your life, it's there. Unless you unplug yourself completely and go live in a cave somewhere.

I've gotten a lot of my current wisdom courtesy of a book by an amazing man named Augusten Burroughs. It's called, "This is How--Surviving what you think you can't." It's a collection of short, personal essays (like the kind you're reading right now) about everything from losing weight to suicide. I've read it backwards and forwards and I've bought copies for two important people in my life.

And their completely different reactions to it spoke volumes to me.

The girlfriend I gave the book to had a very similar reaction to mine--lots of "aha" (also known as "lightbulb) moments. My brother?? His was, "yeah, mostly common sense."

I think that change comes when we have those lightbulb moments of clarity. You know what they are, and how they feel. The thing is, we don't always listen to them. Sometimes they annoy us and make us feel things we don't want to feel. And we have to be receptive to really hearing it.

I love my brother dearly. We have grown close thanks to texting. He lives in California with my parents and he's had a rough life. BUT I see that a lot of it comes from his choices. And I realized something he said was so interesting. His car is 20 years old, and he was lamenting that he had to take it in again and would probably cost around $1000 he didn't have to fix it. I told him, 'maybe it's time to not waste that thousand dollars and save it to buy something newer." I told him, "maybe ride your bike or get a ride from Dad and in six months you can buy something newer. " But here's what upset him--I told him, 'Don't wait for a crisis, when you're stuck by the side of the road somewhere. It's not like you can't see the demise of this car coming. It's astounding it still runs at all!" He responded by saying something to me as if I didn't understand. That it's "not easy."

I felt bad for him and didn't know what else to say, but those last two words ate at me as I thought about what Augusten Burroughs says in his book about willpower and comfort. He basically says that we don't do the things we ought to do to help ourselves because we can't stand the feeling of discomfort. Isn't it true?? We don't like to be uncomfortable and those around us don't like us making THEM feel uncomfortable either, therefore, we don't change and we don't get better.

I'll use myself as an example.

I gave up red meat over a year and a half ago. It was a spiritual decision for me that just came to me one day. It was not easy for those around me to accept. It wasn't like I'd grown a third arm or anything but you'd think I had. It WAS weird for me too. Suddenly, this 4-day a week red-meat eater wouldn't touch a hamburger or a juicy steak cooked just-the-way-I-like-it-on-the-grill. I became an inconvenience and an annoyance, even to myself. If my husband chose to cook steaks, he had to go out of his way to first buy me something else I'd eat and then cook it separately. And while my family had no choice but to get used to this new non-red-meat-eating mommy and wife, for me, it was just about the easiest thing I'd ever done.

Because it was something I WANTED.

I have never for a second complained that I can't eat my favorite soup anymore because it's made with beef broth (french onion) and I actually will ask if the pepperoni on the pizza is pork or not. I don't apologize, and I don't feel bad about it, and I don't lament "poor me". I never have. Because I know that no one is stopping me from eating red meat products--not my doctor (it's not a health issue) or my religion (I don't have one). It is now who I am. I am someone who doesn't eat red meat. The same as someone who doesn't eat octopus either--I don't like it. So what's the big deal? If every fast food restaurant served octopus burgers (maybe that's what's REALLY in those Spongebob crabby patties!!) it would be a big deal. Because people have a group mentality that red-meat burgers are American and society accepts this and supports and encourages this. If I lived in a Hindi country like Nepal, I wouldn't be the odd-man out, I'd be just as common as everyone else.

I'm happy to say that now my family is nonplussed about the whole thing. It's a non-issue. And I'm so proud my family is proud of me. My husband made my heart flutter last weekend when we were at a wine festival that seemed to serve nothing but red meat and carbs--he was worried about me because we were drinking wine and I couldn't find anything to eat. He took me by the hand and said, "C'mon honey, let's go find you something", and he was on a mission to take care of me. I was filled with gratitude and love for this gesture. Not, "You've gotta stop with this silly diet. There's plenty of food here." He didn't make fun of me; he embraced the changes I'd made and honored them.

We need to be conscious of, "who is society anyway??  It depends on where you live. Who hasn't seen the picture of the plus-size mannequins in stores in Sweden? (or is it the Netherlands?) I can't remember, but the point is--it's so unusual it the picture spread like wildfire on the Internet. Seeing it made me uncomfortable, because it reminded me how painful it is to be a girl living in a society that drums into everyone heads that being thin is the most important thing a woman can be. I wanted to move to that country when I saw that picture and I know every American woman felt the same way: understood.

How often do we sabotage our loved ones with our own discomfort?? When was the last time you made a snide remark when we heard someone say, "Not for me, I'm trying to lose weight" or "Just iced tea, I'm trying not to drink so much." We say things like, "Oh come one, what will one hurt?" or something like that. How dare we tromp on someone else's efforts to better themselves? We do it because when the people around us change, it makes US uncomfortable. If they can decline dessert or a third martini and we don't want to, we put THEM down so we don't have to feel bad about the fact that we can't, or don't want to say no ourselves. Our weaknesses are triggered. We aren't sure we really want to say no, or change, but somehow, something in us is triggered when we are confronted with a major change in someone else.

This is so interesting to me. I have become so aware of this lately. My husband told me about a guy he works with who's lost 60 pounds. He has become completely different. He told me, "He's just not really fun to be around anymore. He used to be the fun guy. Now he's so serious." And when he told his co-worker this jokingly, the co-worker agreed. He knows he's different, he knows he's not so much fun anymore, but his health was more important. His definition of "fun" has changed. Fun for him means fitting into clothes he feels good in and not worrying about dropping dead of a heart attack anymore.

When we know what we want, we go and get it. It's not a matter of "easy".

It's not a matter of willpower, Augusten Burroughs says, and he's right. He says, "If willpower is required to achieve this goal, that's how you know you don't want it enough on a deep, organic level...willpower is like holding your breath: you can only do it for so long." So true.

Think about the last time you made a significant change in yourself or your life. How about an insignificant change, like driving a different way to work? How about abiding by the speed limit signs for a change? How about reading at bedtime instead of watching TV? How about not checking your phone every 5 seconds and really listening to your spouse, kids, or friends? These are truly "easy" things to do but yes, you will likely feel discomfort. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do them. Augusten thinks that the more uncomfortable you make yourself, the closer you will get to achieving your goals. And sometimes, the discomfort is not your own--it's dealing with everyone ELSE'S discomfort.

Just food for thought folks.

Proof That I'm Insane

A miracle happened today. It's only December 14th, and I mailed my Christmas cards today! I dropped them into the box outside the post office at approximately 8:57 a.m. this morning after dropping my daughter off at school. How is this a miracle, you may be wondering??

I love the ritual of Christmas cards. Ever since I was a kid; my parents used to get tons of Christmas cards every year when my dad still worked for the Herald Examiner. Back then, cards were more glamourous than they are today. They were mini works of art; beautiful Christmas landscapes filled with snow, beautifully decorated homes, all resounding with the peace and love of home and family. My mom would tape each one up just tilted every-so-slightly, equi-distant apart from one another, displayed on the coat closet door--in the living room--the first place you'd see it when you entered the room. I wasn't big enough to reach the top cards, but from my small stature I'd revel in the beauty of them as they glimmered in the light. I didn't recognize any of the names of course; I had no idea who any of these people were that were sending all these beautiful cards. I wanted to meet them. They were secret, magical mystical people my dad worked with at his secret, magical, mystical desk in some building somewhere in Los Angeles. It was all very exciting to a small child like me.

Is it any wonder I am just like my mother now with the whole Christmas card business?? I have taken over where she's left off. My parents have been retired for some time; the lovely Christmas cards they used to receive trickled off when my dad was laid off in 1975. In her hurt and dismay, my mother retorted that if they had been "real friends" the cards would still be coming. I didn't know what to do with that.

So here I am, many many years later, stressing myself out trying to get my Christmas cards out before they should actually say, "Happy Easter".  It's all self-induced. I know that. I can't help myself.

I used to do individual Christmas cards, you know, the boxed kind. I felt that a person's choice of a Christmas card said a lot about them, so I took great pains to choose boxed cards that reflected my personality, or rather, our personality as a family. I didn't really care for the religious ones or the Norman Rockwell artsy kind but rather the humorous ones, poking fun at either Santa or his reindeer--you know, the kind you love to get. A card that makes you laugh. That's me. I usually bought them around Thanksgiving, eager to get started. I'd usually do the envelopes first; the boring part. Then, one by one, I'd not only write "Love and God Bless, the Kuckelman's", but I'd write a mini-biography of our year in each one. We have moved so many times, and we have family and friends strewn all over the globe, and honestly, the only communication we have with some of them is the annual Christmas card tradition. Of course I was so worried I'd turn into one of those braggy moms and yes, I admit, I am. Hey, it comes with being a parent, and I'm so lucky to say I've got the kind of kids worth bragging about. Not every parent can say that. But the newsletter is only the beginning.

Don't forget the most important missing ingredient--the ultimate Christmas family photo.

We had a ritual for about ten years, since the year Ian was born, to have a professional sitting once a year. I'd happily schedule it for the Saturday BEFORE Thanksgiving, before the onslaught. I was so proud of myself. My husband would sulk and my toddlers would throw tantrums and I'd ignore their pleas for mercy and trudge us all into the photo studio year after year. I told them, "you'll thank me someday." (still waiting). But the year we stopped was the year the photos turned out absolutely frightening--I think they started hiring unqualified temporary workers for the holidays and I was mortified. I refused to pay for them and gave them back; bawling, I instructed them to just throw them in the trash. I resisted telling them what I REALLY thought of their skills as photographers.

So it became my duty to take our OWN perfect Christmas family photo every year! This was the beginning of the digital age, and it honestly couldn't have been more perfect timing. Instead of an expensive and angry family outing, we had an inexpensive and angry family afternoon trying to capture a harmonious photo of the four of us here at home. Last year was my favorite. Having just moved to Wisconsin from a lifetime of sunny California, I fantasized about a photo of the four of us standing by snowman we'd made ourselves. The snow obliged, but no one told me that Wisconsin snow is too soft to make into snowballs let alone snowmen. All dressed up for the picture and freezing in the frigid air, we were exhausted and my family was beyond annoyed with me. I settled for a pic of the four of us standing in our backyard, snow up to our ankles, taken by a little friend of my daughter's. It was dusk, and we ended up looking more of a silhouette. You couldn't really see our faces, no matter how hard I tried to Photoshop it. It was exasperating. Once again, self-induced. I realize this.

Doing this was so tedious, my Christmas cards never went out before Christmas Eve. It just took too damn long.  Between hand-writing each and every card and the pursuit of the perfect Norman Rockwell family photo, I got wise. Not only did I start writing a newsletter about 5 years ago, this year I didn't require my family to get together for a photo. Yes, it's been sad, sad defeat for me; we can't get all four of us together for even one picture a year. This year I decided I'd scroll through all the pictures on my computer from the year and find of of the four of us and use it, like many people do. We didn't take any vacations, so none there. I was saddened to realize there was not ONE photo of all four of us taken the entire year!!! So what the hell was I going to do?!!?! MAKE A PHOTO COLLAGE, THAT'S WHAT!!!!!

There were so many good pics to choose from, I actually made 2 collages. My husband shrieked at my insanity. "You can't send out two sheets of pictures!" he scolded me. "But I can't decide which ones to delete!" I shrieked back at him. I sighed a big huge sigh, and realized that if I made the pics really small I could fit them all on one sheet!! I was so happy!! Hahaha WINNING!!!!!!!

But my perfect plan hit a snag. I had all the envelopes made out in red Sharpie (festive yes?), actual Christmas stamps (some Hanukkah ones for the Jews in my family. Perfectionist here!), custom Christmas family address labels with our likeness (leftover from last year, thankfully we didn't move again), and cute little stickers on the backs of the envelopes. I sought and sought for the perfect newsletter paper to print them on--40 sheets for about $10.  I STUPIDLY BOUGHT EXACTLY THE AMOUNT THAT I THOUGHT I'D NEED. And lo and behold, wouldn't you know, after printing 20 perfect copies, the ink started to run out and ruined about 20 of the remaining sheets I had. I was distraught of course. Ruined!!! What was I to do?? I didn't have time to go all the way back to Office Max and buy more paper and with my luck, they'd be out of them anyway. So.....I looked and looked online for free borders for paper to make my own. Sure, they'll be different from the rest I'd already printed out, but I was okay with that. As long as they were festive. No boring plain paper for this girl!!! Well guess what?? There weren't any free ones. I am too cheap to even pay a dollar. And now it's December 13th. What was I willing to do?? Time is running out. I want to get these f***ing Christmas cards mailed NOW!!!!!!!

As I drove my daughter to school, went to the gym, and thought about the newsletters that still needed to be printed on my fantasy perfectly festive paper that was expensive and unattainable, I decided to make peace with PLAIN OLD WHITE PAPER. Yes, the bane of my existence--the proof that a person has absolutely NO imagination whatsoever---plain, old, boring, white printer paper.

I've made peace with myself over this. I think about the time and money I've saved, and I've made the best of a bad situation. Even though I was armed with enough replacement ink cartridges to furnish my daughter's school to avoid precisely what ended up happening because I got distracted. The ink ran out, and sparsely inked hieiogyphic ruined Christmas newsletter paper. I relented and used plain old boring white paper for the 25 or so newsletters left just to get them done. I stand accused, tried, and convicted. I sobbed quietly while folding them with my perfect collage into my perfectly addressed envelopes. I just somehow feel like I've let them down.

I gave myself a cheerful little pep-talk about how happy my friends and family will be to receive my newsletter and photo collage, and probably won't even notice the paper isn't Christmas-y. I know, I know, many of you will open the envelope and shriek, "HER NEWSLETTER IS ON PLAIN, OLD, BORING WHITE PAPER! DOESN'T SHE HAVE ANY IMAGINATION AT ALL?? JEEZ!!' And yes, I have to live with that.

And some of you won't even get one. In the move here, I can't find my Official Christmas Card Address List. I'm sorry. I really am. I hope you'll still send me a card so I can send you one back. There's still time!!

Those of you that got the Christmas-y newsletter paper know that you got the best I had to offer. The rest of you, my condolences. I hope you can see past this omission of character and forgive me.

At least I can brag that you got it before Easter.