Archives for posts with tag: embrace uncertainty

On my happiness list, the last item is “Embrace uncertainty.” And the second to the last? “Live every day as if it were your last.” These are hard to follow because I love making lists and planning my day.

There was one day, three or four years ago, when the darlings, Josie and I were in Italy for Thanksgiving and we had absolutely no plans. We followed the Improv rule, “Accept every offer.” If someone suggested we stop somewhere, that’s where we went. We chased a ball in a church courtyard for a long time.

We got lost in Venice. Someone said, “Let’s stop at that pizza place.” We did. We ate pizza under a bridge.

Then someone pointed to a boat and said, “Oh those clementines look good.” So we bought clementine oranges off of a boat. The kids tried to peel the clementines in one peel so you could hold them back together again and they’d look whole. They were the best clementines ever.

Then the kids wanted to spend hours feeding the pigeons in St. Mark’s Square. But I took a break with a cappuccino at a café off the square. When the waiter delivered my coffee in the white china cup, there, in the frothy milk, was a heart.

When I let go of my agenda, things surprised and pleased me — things I didn’t even think were possible.

I had that list of Summer To Do things. And some of the things I’ve done and some I haven’t. And I’m not sure I’ll get to them today. After all, my last item is “Quit making lists.”

  1. Update my resume
  2. Get more help for Chris and household management
  3. Research joining a writer’s room or applying for writer-in-residence program
  4. Befriend new families in kids’ new Fall schools/classes
  5. Prepare kids well for camp
  6. Have a party while kids are at camp
  7. Replace or do something about annoying kitchen cabinets
  8. Eat more fish
  9. Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge
  10. Comment on and read other blogs
  11. Tweet every day
  12. Do a reading of my work at least once a month
  13. Plan an international trip for me and the kids
  14. Get my bike tuned up
  15. Quit making lists
What’s on your Summer To Do list?

I feel guilty for working. My husband does not work much, but when he does, no one makes him feel bad. It’s a mother thing.

My sister-in-law who owns her own business reported that in a parent-teacher meeting one of the teachers told her, “I can tell that you work outside the home, because your children are very hard workers.”

I think about that conversation a lot. It comforts me. Although I am plagued with guilt – whenever I have to be away from the kids for a night or a late evening for work — I hope that the kids notice, appreciate and feel motivated to work hard too.

I hope women on all sides of the work equation realize that women’s lives are in flux.

One of my best friends whom I met when our kids were in preschool, is a banker. She wore a business suit to the preschool graduation. In my stained sweat suit, I was jealous. I was a stay at home mom, trying to scare up freelance writing work, but  found only new toddler Mommy and Me classes. I contemplated writing a book called Stay at Home Moms: How They Work! Then I landed my fulltime gig.

My friend quit her job. For seven years she was a stay at home mom, working for no pay — as in serving as president of the parent’s association. This year she returned to the paid world of banking.

I’ve been a fulltime working mother since the girls’ toddler years, saving my sweatsuit for the weekends.

I like to think the kids secretly like and benefit from the fact that their mother works hard and is the family breadwinner.

Working Mother magazine reported that ’57 percent of working mothers feel guilty every single day, and 31 percent feel guilty at least once a week.’ I am not alone.

This relates to my Rule Number 7 to Embrace uncertainty. One day you’re a stay at home mom and the next day you’re back in business. Enjoy it. Work hard wherever you find yourself and try not to feel guilty or jealous along the way.

Six years ago, I borrowed a book from my daughters’ preschool. The book was called Teaching Your Children Responsibility. I don’t remember any advice from the book. All I know is that I never returned the book to the preschool lending library.

I have felt guilty about not returning that book for six years. I try to model responsibility and consistency. Sometimes I model guilt and blame.

For the mess in our apartment I like to blame my husband Chris and his Parkinson’s Disease and my children who have no good excuse. And of course I blame myself because I don’t discipline them enough and I would rather write before work and play tennis after work than clean and do laundry. I would rather go out to Happy Hour with my work peeps than make a family dinner. How often have I said, “Let’s order Chinese food again, kids”?

I may be irresponsible but I am happy. I may be guilty but I am keeping the Cottage, the best Chinese restaurant on the Upper West Side in business.

I may be messy, but I am creative. This is what I tell myself. In our country house there is a magnet on the fridge. It says, “A creative mind is seldom tidy.” So true.

This jibes with my Rule Number 5: Expect the best, love what you get. Even from yourself.

Someday I’ll return that library book. Until then, I’ll try loving myself.

When I used to do stand up, I would tell myself 3 things right before I went on stage:

1. Be yourself

2. Have fun

3. It’s important

And I am trying to tell myself these same 3 rules at the start of every day.

I did not sleep well last night. One of the darlings came into bed with me at around 2. She’s nearly as big as an adult so she woke me. We have no air conditioning. It was  hot. I tossed and turned. Then I  moved to my daughter’s now-empty bed. I’d heard an antidote to insomnia is changing rooms.

As I walked in the hall, I heard the television was still on. My husband stays up way too late into the night, sometimes until 3 or 4. Then of course he falls asleep in the early evening hours when you’re talking to him (blame the Parkinson’s). Hearing the television just made me feel all sad and jumbled — my life, my restless night, my work. And I couldn’t wait until morning so I could dump all my thoughts, worries, dreams, into my journal.

1. Be yourself. Because there is a unique point of view based on a unique life’s journey. And for whatever reason, this is my journey. This is mine.

2. Have fun. Because I seriously believe that we are put on this earth to give and experience joy. The goal in life is to be happy, joyous, and free.

3. It’s important. Because I can easily dismiss my point of view, or expect that I am less than. But what I have to say is important.

I did fall asleep in my daughter’s bed and woke to write all this in my journal.

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Enough with the sidewalk art!

H. and I had just come from the New Museum where we saw George Condo’s Mental States and met the great man. http://mybeautifulnewyork.wordpress.com/2011/05/08/george-condo/

On the way into the park, we stepped on De La Vega’s sidewalk art.

A man with a feather in his cap sat near the first chalk drawing, around 97th and Central Park East. H. wondered if that was the artist, Jamie De La Vega. But not all artists hang near their art. Like all bloggers do not hang near their blog.

One message on the sidewalk did not have the silly helicopter or fish image — simply words across the pavement with a message, “It will continue to get better.” That made me happy.

Chalk artists have to know the forecast.

Minutes after we arrived at H’s Little League game, a dark cloud hovered, opened up, and sent me running to the field house.

My first thought was I should not have spent that $25 to get my hair blown out. And my second thought was all that sidewalk art  probably did not survive the downpour.

Art is ephemeral. Like the bubbles in George Condo’s paintings.

Life too is fleeting. This applies to My Rules Number 6 and 7.

6. Live every day as if it were your last

7. Embrace uncertainty

And yes, it will continue to get better. But there will be rain.

Every six months or so, I think I should repeat My 7 Rules.

  1. Pile on the people. Or — pile on the useful people. This is hard. And you may need to pay real money here.
  2. Escape through literature. Proof in point — I am writing this on a plane going to San Francisco on route to Napa Valley with my book club. Literature leads to good things. We were talking about this at a recent book club meeting when we were talking about, “A Short History of Women: a Novel” by Kate Walbert. (Good and substantive.) The historical and present-day women in that book, like the suffragette, were definitely leading lives of quiet desperation. “Why don’t they join a book club?” asked one of the book club members. People in book clubs think other people should join book clubs. People who read think everyone should read. (Incidentally, our book for this California meeting is, “A Tale of Two Valleys: Wine, Wealth, and the Battle for the Good Life in Napa and Sonoma” by Alan Deutschman. (Kind of fun and trashy.))
  3.  Hold on to your hoops of steel. This is my rule based on a Shakespeare quote. And I throw it in so I appear literary. And though I can’t, at this moment, even remember what play this quote’s from, it means keep the ones you love close. My work and my family – these are my hoops of steel.
  4. Cultivate a secret garden. Can’t say much about this. But if you plant, grow, weed a secret garden, keep it close to the vest, like your cards at a poker game. Don’t ask; Don’t tell. So now that I’ve thrown you a bunch of mixed metaphors, like seeds to the wind, I hope you follow the trail to your own secret garden.
  5. Expect the best/love what you get. This works well when training animals, rearing children, and getting along with annoying coworkers.
  6. Live every day as if it were your last. This is the Carpe Diem rule. And one day, it will be your last day, so you might as well live fully today. As mom always said, “They can’t repossess your vacation.” True words to contemplate while on a plane bound for a vacation.
  7. Embrace uncertainty. I had a friend who would smile whenever she said, “I don’t know.” I try to do that too. It’s difficult for me. I like knowing everything. I like being a know-it-all.

Those are my 7 Rules.

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