"Oh, the Thinks You Can Think!"

My children will tell you, I do not quote scripture and I do not quote politicians. But many times, they have heard me quote lines from songs or children’s books, to reinforce values and lessons. I do also quote myself from time to time, as in “because I said so.”

My children are just about grown, but today’s historic events, had me yearning to dig a Dr. Seuss book from my dusty collection.
“Oh, The Thinks You Can Think!” came to mind, as I watched
Barack Obama take the oath of office and speak of hope, opportunities and unity of purpose.

I am filled with pride and encouragement for our nation and our people. Today, President Obama reminded us of who we are and how far we have traveled. He reminded Americans, both Republican and Democrat, that nothing is impossible. Look what we can do, if we just put our mind to it.

“Oh the thinks you can think up if only you try!”

You are never too young or too old to heed that reminder.

When President Obama said, “the time has come to set aside childish things,” certainly he did not mean Dr. Seuss. Today, you should remind your children, whether they be toddlers or teens:

“THINK! You can think any think that you wish!”

What a day, and a lesson, for the history books.

Paper or Plastic?

When asked, “Which is better to bag your groceries, paper or plastic?” a local environmentalist replied, “which ever you will use again.”

Many of you know, I went “green” this Christmas. I sent an e-mail instead of a Holiday card. I made donations to local charities in lieu of gifts. I turned conference giveaways into stocking stuffers. This, by the way, was a big hit at my house – I am a discerning shopper on the conference trade show circuit.

I didn’t expect everyone was going this route, but I did think most people were on the recycle bandwagon. Municipal trash pick-up has included a recycling schedule for a decade. Who doesn’t recycle?

A lot of my neighbors, apparently. When I dragged my boxes and bottles out to the alley last week, I took a look around. Only one other home had placed recycling out for pick up. Don't tell my kids, because I told them recycling was mandatory. Well it is - in my house.

I wondered, how many other neighborhoods look like this? Scan your alleys and sidewalks next week and send me a tally. Is it really just my neighborhood? I’d like to get a handle on this sad state of affairs.

At a time when many companies are making green practices common in the workplace, I certainly hope folks are not trading off on the home front. Choosing between paper or plastic does not matter, whether you reuse, recycle and reduce does.

A Pain in the Password

With the New Year, I decided to take more steps to “go green.” I would do my banking and pay household bills on-line. Once again, the ugly “registration and password” requirement rears its ugly head.

When all this password nonsense first started, I had a system – pick one password and use it for everything. The IT security gurus were on that trick in a flash. “Minimum of 8 characters.” “Must contain upper and lower case.” “Both numbers and letters required.” Once password directives like this began to appear, my ship was sunk.

It’s a sign of the times I suppose. The only “password” you used to need to remember was the combination on your high school locker. Now, we have log ins and passwords for everything. Last count, I was up to 39. Until recently, I keep this information safely stored in my top desk drawer, scrawled on scraps of paper. As my web site log-ins grew, so did the scraps of paper.

I got smart. I created an Excel spreadsheet of all my passwords. Then, I placed it on my computer’s desktop, for easy access. Convenient? Yes, but the scraps of paper in my desk drawer were probably more secure. So, guess what? I password protected the spreadsheet. Yet one more password to remember.

I’m sure I am not alone in password hell. How many passwords do you have?

Friends and family, when I die, just know I put a copy of the spreadsheet with my logins and passwords with my Will – in a Lock Box at the bank. Of course, you’ll need a key for that . . .

Happy New Year Michael & Karen

I received a Holiday Greeting card from my newspaper delivery folks. Those of you following the saga of the never-ending-newspapers, (see Blog from October, 2008) will enjoy this note I sent back.

Dear Michael & Karen,

Thank you for your lovely holiday card. Your timely greeting arrived at my doorstep along with the newspaper you so thoughtfully continue to deliver, despite the fact that I ceased paying for delivery back in August.

I’m sure you have seen the signs of neglect in our relationship as, day after day, newspapers pile up on my front lawn. I’m sure you have received the calls from your employer, advising you to cease and desist. Please, do not take it personally, but I would really like to end our relationship.

I urge you to start the new year out on the right foot. Make a resolution to stop delivering the newspaper to my home.

I understand how difficult it can be to break ties, especially when one has had a long and satisfying relationship. Five years is indeed a long time. Perhaps, I am simply a habit you cannot manage to break. Perhaps, it is the letting go that you cannot accept.

Quitting quit cold-turkey is always the best way to go. Lingering in a languished relationship is never a wise move. If you just can’t bear to part ways, we can compromise. You are welcome to continue to send your annual holiday card, as I always appreciate the kind sentiment. But please, stop delivering the newspaper.

Happy New Year Michael & Karen
I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.
Denise

A Parenting Oops Card

At Back-to-school night, one teacher handed out a Free Homework Pass to each parent. A little “I know your life is crazy” gift to provide momentary relief on a day of the parent’s choosing. A nice thought, but what I would really like is a parenting “oops” card.

Recently, my daughter shared with me about a time I had ignored a request she made. She was 7. Apparently, she is scarred for life. I told her I was sorry (and I truly am) but I wanted to tell her “get in line.” I’ve made mistakes, a lot of them. Parenting is tough work. We muddle through our busy lives and raise our children as best we can. Somewhere along the line, we need to forgive ourselves for our missteps and hope that our children do to.

My present for you this Christmas is a special kind of gift card, a Parenting Oops Card. Take one guilt-ridden parenting moment and toss it away. Any event: the time you sent your son to school with a fever because you had a presentation at work; a time you raised your voice, simply because you were tired, not because it was the most appropriate response for the situation; a time you ignored, forgot, or misspoke.

I’m here to tell you, the things you’re beating yourself up over are probably not even the things your kids remember. Allow yourself a special gift this Christmas – accept a Parenting Oops Card. And be sure to share it with a friend.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Frankincense & Myrrh, Family & Friends

Tis the season, or so I hear. Christmas decorating has not yet made my “to do” list. Neither has Christmas shopping.

A sad state of affairs, really. I love Christmas. The festive decorations, the smell of pine needles, I enjoy every Christmas carol every written.

Last night, I resorted to evaluating the conference booth give-aways I received this fall, to see if any were worthy of stocking stuffer status. I am proud to report I will be recycling, reusing and reducing this Christmas, whether my kids like it or not. Our environment, my time and my money are all precious commodities.

Besides, it’s not about the gifts. Do you think baby Jesus was thrilled to receive frankincense and myrrh? Christmas is about the miracle of Jesus’ birth and the folks who came to pay him homage. It’s about travel and visiting and family and friends. Keep that in mind, when the crush of this holiday season gets to you.

I intend to remind my children of that fact when they open their fuzzy key rings, logo pens and odd shaped post-it notes on Christmas Eve. They should simply be happy we are together, gathered around the Christmas tree.

Oops - I better go get on that “buy a tree” part.

A Weighty Matter

When a friend recently asked, “can you hold my purse while I pop into the ladies room?” I did not know what I was getting myself into. I agreed far too quickly. I should have told her, “I have back problems.” I should have shared about the carpel tunnel in my hand.
I should have inquired as to its weight. How heavy can the purse of a five foot one senior citizen be? Pretty darn heavy. The 4 minutes she was gone might well have been 40.

I shifted the purse from one hand to the next, slung it over one shoulder, then over the other. I set it on the ground, every so briefly. I finally resorted to using the darn thing to get in a few arm curls. It has been weeks since I’ve been to the gym. Perhaps I can assuage my guilt by fitting in a little impromptu exercise.

We all have different comfort levels, when it comes to keeping our most precious possessions near. Some let their children roam the neighborhood, while others watch their every move. Some will loan their car to a friend, others just can’t bear to let go of the keys. Some must carry a purse brimming with personal items, as they go about their daily errands. Our ability to let go and lighten the load in life is indeed a weighty matter.

“This thing weights more than you,” I claimed when my friend emerged and the eternity ended. She agreed it was busting at the seams. When I suggested perhaps she downsize, she was of the opposite opinion. “I just need to buy something larger so I can redistribute the weight,” she stated.

Well, I guess that takes care of that.

Using your Blinker and Avoiding the Horn

Many women will tell you, their biggest gripe with their mate is lack of communication. “We never just talk,” women say. Have you been on the sending or receiving end of “I want to know how you feel”? Statements like these can make men run for the door and women seek therapy.

The same applies to planning ahead. Frankly, many men find their life quite satisfactory without forethought or planning. “Don’t they sell roses at those roadside stands?” can count, in a man’s mind, as preparation for Valentine’s Day. Women beg to differ.

Communication & planning ahead are two often addressed topics in a relationship, but these gender differences are not strictly a behind-closed-doors issue. They translate behind the wheel of a car as well.

I must confess, I can be a back-seat driver at times. “Why don’t you put on your blinker, so the cars know you’re waiting for that parking space,” I’ve been heard to say, when I witness this communication faux pas.

To me, it’s like nails on a chalkboard to listen to “that damn car won’t let me in.” All I’m thinking is “Why didn’t you change lanes a mile ago? You knew the exit was coming up.” I don't understand why people don't plan ahead.

It’s really just gender differences, in communication and planning. Perhaps we can agree to meet in the middle – if men work on using their blinkers more often, women will lay off the horn.

I’m going to try this in my life. Try it in yours. Let me know how it goes.

For Myself, and For the Fans

“I'm tired of reading about geese,” my sister-in-law said at Thanksgiving. That’s not the first time I’ve heard that sentiment this month.

It’s been 3 weeks since my last blog entry - a short, quick blurb I wrote, after minimal postings in October. I love to write and I really enjoy blogging, but my life has been getting in the way. Nothing glamorous I’m afraid. No jetting off to Paris, like my mother. No long weekend hitting the tables in Vegas. No lucrative business contract, filling my days and nights. Just life – kids, cars, pets, school, church, house . . . .

I’ve got to keep up the writing, not just for me, but apparently also for the fans. So, I’m making my New Year’s Resolution a month early. I’m getting my priorities in order. My commitment: to write at least one blog a week. I wanted to shoot for 2, but I need to be realistic. It’s the Christmas holiday season, after all. I may have a few other things on my plate.

I start my new charge today. The unraked leaves can wait. The dirty laundry is not going anywhere. Those dishes in the sink, well they've been sitting for a while. What's a little while longer? First, I blog. For myself, and for the fans.

Keep checking back. Don’t hesitate to send me a little nudge every now and again, like my sister-in-law. Everyone can use help sticking to their New Year’s Resolutions.

Let the Geese Speak

Some people count sheep to fall asleep. Some walk their dog for daily exercise. Others gaze at fish circling in an aquarium to relieve stress. Animals serve as helpmates and friends in many ways.

I write to the melodic sounds of honking geese. I kid you not. Somewhere in my suburban Towson neighborhood lives a gaggle of geese. I’m not sure exactly where they live or when they came, but I first heard the commotion about 3 months ago. The geese don't host loud honking parties every day. But when they gather, their din is comparable to a room full of teenage girls. Slightly distracting, but oddly comforting, in their familiar animated manner. My new neighbors provide a welcome distraction.

Do you have the scoop on these odd Towson pets? I’d love to hear. Their unusual choice of a home must have a story. One day, I may head out back and track down the location of such clamor. Dig at the truth for myself. For now, I simply write and enjoy the lively company they provide.