The Yo-Yo, the iPad, and the Judgement

I just heard the kid that got an iPad for Christmas ask my son what a yo-yo was.

He's five.

Now, if you think this is going to be a rant on appropriate gifts for youth or how we are excelling the degradation of the next generation with mind-numbing electronics, it's not. Sorry. Guess you can't please everyone.

If I've learned anything in 2015, it's the power of tolerance and keeping an open mind. What pain or turmoil does it cause me that some five year old got an iPad? How in any way does that impact my life? It doesn't.

Instead, I'm going to focus on the fact that he didn't know what a yo-yo was. No, it's still not going to be a rant. Looks like I'm zero for two today. Instead, this will be an observation. A detailed observation filled with acceptance and different points of view and all around good feelings of them. I know, it must be this crappy Christmas cheer people are raving about that is finally getting to me.

I'll backtrack. Two kids came over to play with my kids. The didn't know how to play checkers or what a yo-yo was. Is this weird? No. Not really. I just learned how to play checkers the other day, at 31 years old. And a yo-yo has never been able to hold my attention or patience for very long.

My son, on the other hand, completely devours activities that require intense thought and concentration. It's the only time he sits still and I can see his little brain working and it mesmerizes me. He's a brilliant little boy and I'll do everything in my power to foster this and help it grow and make it something he feels confident about.

So these kids come over and upon learning that they don't know what a yo-yo is or how to play checkers, he proceeds to teach them. Without missing a beat, he teaches the girl how to play checkers and shows the boy how to use the yo-yo. Upon hearing that the boy received an iPad for Christmas, my son simply said that was cool and showed him the mega Lego set he got. Then my son showed them all the puzzles they got. Then they went and played with something else.

He didn't falter. He didn't judge. He shared. He played. Life was simple and grand and full of toys and fun and the excitement that is childhood after Christmas.

Oh, the lessons we could learn from our youth.

The kinds of possessions they had didn't divide them. It didn't separate them. They did this miraculous thing called talking and sharing and playing and not a single judgement crossed their minds.

I'm not going to lie, some judgements crossed my mind.

Who gets their five year old an iPad? Those are expensive. They must have money. And for the same kid to not know what a yo-yo is? What kind of a childhood is that? Does all of his brain power depend on an electronic?

Luckily, I realized what a twat I was being and stopped myself. He probably got an iPad for the same reason my son got a Lego set: because it's something he would enjoy and play with and would help him learn. Also, for the record, my son got an XBox. A used, $80 XBox with used $5 games. But he doesn't know that. He doesn't care about that. He wanted one, and he got one, and he's happy and grateful to have one. He didn't expect it. He didn't demand it. And he holds it just as important as the checkers game or yo-yo.

How do I know it's not the same for his friend? I don't. I assumed. And I made an ass of myself. Even if it was for one split second and the thoughts were only in my head, it was an ass move. And I'm sorry.

I'm not sure if my son knows what an iPad is. I'm not sure he cares. I know that I don't want him to be dependent on electronics for entertainment. This is why we got him a checkers game, because I knew he'd love to play the game and it would be a great family bonding opportunity. That's why he got Legos and book and puzzles. And an XBox, because we're not total hippie dippie tools. Well, at least my husband isn't. I'm getting there...

And just because his friend got an iPad doesn't mean that his parents don't value those same things. It doesn't mean that this kid is going to be any better or worse than my children. It only means what I attach to it. The simplest aspect is that he got an iPad. Anything beyond that is speculation on my part. Clearly, from watching them all interact together, I'm the one that is in the wrong.

These kids taught me something today. They didn't sit me down and have a chat. They just did and I watched and I learned. That must be what it's like for them. They watch us and learn then apply it. It's kind of a terrifying thought.

It sounds like I need to do some more watching and some more learning. Maybe in my teaching, I need to pay more attention to what I do and say since they are hearing it and learning it. Maybe instead of focusing on the little annoyances that my son still needs to learn, I should focus on the fact that he's got some pretty important aspects of life figured out.

Maybe I've had my Grinch colored glasses on for the last few months and I need to put my rose colored glasses back on. After all, it is a new year in just a few short days, and there is nothing more exciting than the possibilities that a new year holds. All the adventures have yet to be had. That is something  - at least one thing - to be happy about.

Happy New Year.

From Deserver to Grateful Earner

As a writer, sometimes people ask what my favorite word is. I have one, but I won't tell you, at least not until I change all my important passwords...

I also have words that I don't enjoy. The word panties bothers me. Yes, even in the heat of the moment, I'd prefer knickers. The word conscious, simply because I can never remember how to spell it and I get it confused with conscience. And of course, any over-used cliche meant to describe the male genitalia. Please, don't call it his "member." It doesn't wear a special jacket or belong to a bowling team. You can be more creative than that.

One of the words that makes me cringe the most: Deserve.

Deserve
Verb
1)  to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation



It's not the word itself that bothers me, but rather, how people use it. We tend to think that because of our qualities or situations, we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.

That might be one of my favorite words: Earn.

Earn
Verb

1) to gain or get in return for one's labor or service: to earn one's living.

2) to merit as compensation, as for service; deserve: to receive more than one has earned.

3) to acquire through merit: to earn a reputation for honesty.

4) to gain as due return or profit: Savings accounts earn interest.

5) to bring about or cause deservedly:


It's easy to understand why these two words are seen as interchangeable. Their definitions mirror each other and use the same wording. In the American Dream culture that we've created, we believe we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.

For example:
I earned the ability to go to college through hard work; getting good grades, writing a killer essay, and saving money to pay the tuition.
I deserve to go to college. I have the grades, I wrote my essay, and if my parents can't pay for it, there are student loans available.

I earned my position and promotion. I listened to my mentors and their feedback. I care about what I am doing and who is impacted. I've already proven that I am the right person for the position.
I deserve that promotion. I've put my time in and done everything that is asked. I need this promotion and the pay increase it comes with. Once I get the promotion, I'll prove that I am right for it.

I'm not going to lie, I used to be a Deserver. I was that person in both of the examples above. Raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by the American Dream. Now put that damn thing down and use it to get to work. You're missing the point.

And before we go too far, I want to specify that it is not just millennials (like myself) that have this attitude. We were taught this and we followed it because we saw that it worked. Like any successful disease, it's easily contagious. And no, again, I'm not blaming the past generation or this generation's fuck-up. We did it, continue to do it and we need to own that. Not all of us, maybe not even the majority of us. I don't think the next generation is doomed, either. In fact, I think they caught on and learned from our mistakes.

Honest hard work has gone the way of the virtue. We've slowly began replacing deserve with right, an incredibly terrifying movement that has already begun to divide us. I won't go into that difference, though. That's complicated and painful and full of politics and (for once) I'm not nearly cynical enough.

So now that we've found ourselves in this rut of earning and deserving, what do we do? How do we fix it? Do we want to fix it?

The key is being grateful. I don't think I deserve this house I live in. I certainly haven't earned it. That leaves me grateful that I get to call it home. I'm grateful that my children have a safe and warm place to play and grow and dream. I'm grateful that I live in a place that is a community of neighbors and friends that help each other and care for each other.

It isn't earned or deserved or a basic human right. It just is, and that means it's my responsibility to be grateful and to pass that along in any way that I can. There are, in fact, very few things in life that I deserve. A short list at the top of my head reveals nothing. There also aren't a whole heck of a lot of things in life that I've earned, maybe aside from my stretch marks. I earned every single one of those suckers and I'm proud of them. This makes me an incredibly grateful person and one willing to work much harder to earn the things that I want and need.

There isn't a set list of things that are deserved. It depends on the person and the circumstances. Trying to establish what aspects of life are deserving for everyone leads to politics and rights, two words I have absolutely no faith in. It's internal. If you want something, you can choose to earn it. If you deserve something, you can choose to pursue it. If you find yourself in a position where you neither earned it nor deserve it, then you can choose to be grateful. It's up to you, no one else. It's your life and your choices. You get to live from them and learn from them.

Likewise, we don't get to decide what someone else deserves or has earned. This is called being judgmental. Stop it. I mean it. If you're already thinking about how you can apply this logic to things like homelessness or welfare, then I'm talking to you. Stop it. If you don't like the way things work, change it. Until then, shush.

Next time you're thinking about what you deserve, try replacing it with earn. For example: "I've had a tough day. I deserve some Starbucks." Instead, try "I've earned some Starbucks." Okay, as a coffee-fueled mother of three, that is actually the same thing. Bad example.

Replacing deserve with earned brings the power back to us. We've grown into a culture that continually throws up their hands in an "oh well" kind of gesture. There are things that just happen, and then there are things we make happen. We've discovered that it's far easier to just let things happen than to make them happen and become complacent with this. The problem is that we're expecting the same results from both scenarios.

Do you want something in life? How do you earn it?
Do you have something already? Do you deserve it?
Are you grateful?

Earn first, Deserve second, Grateful always.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've earned some much deserved coffee that I am grateful for.

{See what I did there...}

Two Sizes Too Small

**Disclaimer: If you actually have some holiday spirit, you can skip this little rant. However, if you're looking for a laugh at my expense, then go ahead and keep reading. And no, you won't change my mind.**

If it weren't for the kids, I wouldn't even have a tree.

Honestly. Although I do love the smell of fresh cut pine. But still. You have to actually go buy it. So which one to you get? Long needles or short? Pro Tip: Doesn't matter. Both hurt when stabbed into your skin. Neither cleans up easily. Both will be found in the carpet for months to come, randomly stabbing into the tender arch of your foot, reminding you that even in February, next Christmas is only 10 months away. So you pick one. Just pick it, already, dammit. Pay for it, load it in the truck, unload it, shove it through the door, slice it open and let it thaw. And when it does, there's a big old bald spot that no amount of pretty lights or ornaments will hide, so you try your best to shove that one back in the corner.

And you have to get it in the stand. It's a two person job that requires exceptional communication skills. A good rule of thumb is to first establish who's left you'll be using so when your partner asks you to tilt it to the left, you don't actually plant that spiky sucker right in his face. Or maybe you do, just to add a little fun to this adventure. I won't tell.

After being poked and prodded and covered in pitch like some sort of medieval shaming ritual, now you have to decorate it. I don't know why. It's a perfectly good tree. Fine. Throw some lights on there. And I literally mean throw since you were so excited about Christmas being over last year that you didn't take the time to carefully wrap the lights and left your less-than-excited self a little mass of wire and lights that could hold the secrets to the universe if you were just willing to take a little patience and time. Nope. Not this year.

Now that it's standing and centered, you get to debate about the correct way to put the lights on the tree. Completely around and working your way up? Or completely around and working your way down? Or just on the front part that people will see, leaving the backside dark. Of course, you tried that last year and forgot that you put the tree up next to a mirror. Nice one, genius. Or, do you go completely against the grain and do lines going from top to bottom? Gah!

Anyway, the lights are on and you plug them in and - whoa - wait a minute - did they blink last year? Haven't we had these lights for like, the last 5 years? Did they always blink? Wait, let's watch and see if it's a pattern. Maybe there's a short, or maybe it's the socket. Oh, and only one strand blinks, which we can't have. First, we'll try to even out the blinking lights, but that never really works. Off they go. We won't use them anywhere else since we only have one strand. But, just to be safe, let's throw them back in the tote so we can go through this next year. Yeah, that's a grand idea.

Okay, lights are on. Although, we like white lights, so there's a strand of those. And the husband likes blue lights (really? Blue?), so there's a strand of those. And we need colored ones for the kids because kids. Whatever. No theme is a theme, right?

Time for tinsel. Which is ridiculous. As a mother of three, there are three things in this world that I despise: tinsel, fake grass for Easter baskets, and packing peanuts. That shit gets everywhere and always - ALWAYS - ends up getting eaten. Trust us. But I put it up anyway and send a silent apology to my very trusty and hardworking vacuum. It's not a good time of year for that thing.

Then the ornaments. The fragile, glass, sentiment-filled ornaments from your childhood. That the kids are now literally tossing everywhere, except onto the tree. Wait, this one is special, I want it to go here, but the branch is puny, so I'll put it here, only to watch it slip off the branch and crash to the floor. Don't worry. The pillow of pine needles already on the floor broke it's fall. Maybe we'll just put that one back in the box. Maybe we can just put all of them back in the box. Motion denied. Hand me another ornament.

Alright. All the ornaments are hung and the tree is full. We put the star on the top, remembering that we were going to buy a new star last year, but refuse to take the conversation any further again this year. Because we really don't care about the star on top of the tree. We stand back, as a family, oohing and aahing over how beautiful it is. And for one simple moment, we have a moment of peace. Maybe even, dare I saw, some Christmas spirit.

Then the baby reaches out and tries to eat an ornament and by the end of the night, every single ornament has been moved to the top half of the tree and the poor thing is threatening to topple over from the unequal weight distribution. Not that moving them helped, because they oldest is smart enough to grab a chair when Mom is busy making supper, and he's chosen this moment to put aside his distaste for his sisters and has taught them how to be accomplices.

Given their lack of restraint to constantly "fix" the tree, I'm not about to put wrapped boxes under the tree and leave them unattended for weeks. I've ordered them. Yes, I know I should shop local and support small business, but these places have things called "people" and despite the "holiday spirit," the only spirit I really want during Christmas shopping comes in liquid form and out of a bottle. They are hidden in the basement. The present, but the booze too. I'm not about to go dry right now. I've even wrapped them before the kids had a chance to find them. Again, the presents. Hopefully not the booze. Maybe I should go check...

When I say wrapped, I mean covered in some form. Loosely covered in some form. I did buy actual Christmas wrapping paper this year, although I was hoping the brightly colored floral Happy Birthday paper from last year would start a new trend. And gift bags. Lots and lots of gift bags. But no tissue paper. I forgot that. Just think of the newspaper stuffed in with your present as a little bonus reading material.

I won't be putting out any extra decorations. You can take your garland and keep it. In fact, when you drive by my house, you'll probably see a frozen rotten pumpkin instead of a wreath. If I'm feeling festive, maybe I'll paint it red and green. But I won't. So orange - and slightly gray - it is.

I won't listen to Christmas carols, unless you count Lady Gaga's Christmas Tree a carol.

You won't be seeing a Christmas card from us.

I'll have to be reminded to say Merry Christmas.

And on January 2, that tree is toast. And all that hard work we did by watering it every day to keep it alive will pay off, since we'll shove it out the door again into the frigid cold and it will survive and stay green for the next three months. But thanks for making me army crawl my cookie-stuffed ass under it every day. I'm counting that as yoga. Now pass me another cookie.

Yes, I'm a Scrooge. A bah-humbug loving Grinch. I won't try steal your Christmas spirit, and if this is your favorite time of year, by all means. Have at it. I won't judge.

I wasn't always this way, and I hope I won't stay this way. But for now, this year, I'm just not feeling it. I'll do my part. I'll give my kids awesome memories (sleeping under the tree is still a thing).  I'll watch the movies. I'll get excited about Santa and reindeer and Frosty and hot cocoa and all that junk. I'll remind my kids what this season is about and being grateful and how important celebrating is. I'll keep all my negative Grinch ways to myself for their sake.

But this year? The year where everything offended everybody? Where we are treating others so poorly on silly things like nationality and religion and sexual preference and race? Where we continually kill and harm each other just to prove a point? Where money, no matter what kind of corrupt ass hat it comes from (ahem Mr. Trump), still has power to change opinion?

How do I teach my kids about the spirit of Christmas with all that crap in the world?

I'll smile and laugh when we decorate the tree. Even with the lights and tinsel, I'll smile. We'll watch the movies together and drink hot cocoa and eat cookies and I'll even listen to Christmas carols with them. I'll make sure they have amazing memories from Christmas and that my two sizes too small Grinch heart won't be a part of it.

Because I want them to have hope, a hope I might have lost. The world is out there, and I can still protect them from it, at least in most ways.

And maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll bring the hope back to me.