the gift of giving...to yourself

Many years ago when I was a wee lass my father took me Christmas shopping.  The goal was to find something for my sister.  The result was me finding a must have for myself.  Now my dad being the softie he is didn't say "hey honey, ask Santa for this amazing gift." No, no my father bought me the must have present.  And I'm sure you're dying to know what I needed to have.  It was a Sesame Street puzzle with Bert and Ernie.  I believe the topper to this gift was that I insisted on wrapping this present and giving it to myself for Christmas.  I wrapped it up with a gift tag that said 'To: Me To: Me'.  Every year since then I have gotten myself a 'To me, to me' present, though I given up on wrapping it.

And the tradition continues with Gabriel.  His school had a gift store set up for a few days and Gabe saw his must have - a Buzz Lightyear tambourine.  I told him he had to be good and buy presents for some others and he could get it for himself.  It now sits wrapped under the Christmas tree!

Now, you may think this tradition is selfish but allow me to share my thoughts.  Even at such a tender young age, I knew that giving was important, but giving to yourself is sometimes more important.  This time of year we spend so much energy on scouting out the perfect gift, fighting crowds, wrapping presents, cooking meals, going to parties, baking cookies, etc, etc, etc.  With all the demands, we forget about ourselves.  Hell, we barely have time for ourselves.  So while you're busy thinking of giving to everyone else this holiday season, take sometime to give to yourself.  Not something you need, but something you want. You deserve it.

Happy Holidays :)

Mexico

I am all packed and ready to go on an awesome vacation to Mexico! I'm so excited and I thought I'd outline a list of things I plan and don't plan on doing so you can be jealous while I'm away.  :)

Things to do:
~ Eat copious amounts of guacamole
~ Blind people by the pool with my paleness
~ Be sure the ocean doesn't eat Gabe
~ Be sure Gabe doesn't eat the ocean
~ Get tan and no longer blind people
~ Finish a book
~ Drink approximately half my weight in margaritas
~ Build sand castles, with moats
~ Bury Gabe in the sand

Things I may do:
~ yoga on the beach
~ Zip line
~ Find a hot pool boy
~ Finish two books

Things I won't do:
~ Jet ski...
~ Trade Gabe for 17 Mexican blankets (maybe 18)
~ Tell strangers my real name
~ Seduce a drug lord
~ Eat the tequila worm
~ Drink the water

3 year old says thanks

Gabriel and I have been talking about Thanksgiving and he was telling me all the things he's thankful for.  May I say, very good list and all things I'm thankful for.  Also if you're name isn't mentioned on this list its probably cause he hasn't seen you or talked to you in awhile but I assure you, he and I are thankful for all of the special people in our lives.  We are both so blessed.  And here's the list, in no particular order:

Mommy
Papa
Grandma
Auntie Jill
My Avery
Dakota
SarSar
Meg
My Stan
Lindsay
Lisa
Greg
My teachers
my friends
parks
juice boxes
Disneyland
books
the moon
candy
the cabin
our home
all my toys
pizza
the beach
Jack Skellington
frozen yogurt

Well said gabe, well said

Make Good Choices

For as long as I can remember, my mother always sent me on my way with these words of advice:

"Have fun. Be careful. Make good choices."

No matter where I was going, these were the words she left with me.  Simple, sound words of advice that I always took for granted and sometimes laughed at.  The 'have fun' and 'be careful' parts always seemed simple enough.  It was the 'make good choices' part that always got me.  What the heck was a 'good' choice?? And was I in any real position to actually make them?  I guess I have made it this far so I made a few right decisions, though there have been many questionable decisions along the way.

Now recently my mother has decided I need some new advice.  As my mother has observed, I am happy.  And yes mom, you are right I am.  I have plenty to be happy about - an amazing family, the coolest son ever, just finished a degree, and the most incredible friends I could ever ask for.  Other than that pesky job thing, life is pretty friggin fantastic.  And here is my mother's worry about my happiness: she doesn't want any man to ruin it.  Reasonable worry I suppose, except I have no plans of giving a man that much power to my happiness any time soon, or even ever for that matter.  I'm in charge of my own happiness right?

Then my mother proceeded to give me the best advice.  She said, and I quote:


"I'd rather you use them, then they use you."

I. was. speechless.   In fact, weeks later I'm still a little taken aback by this forward advice from my mother.  But I will say, it's nice to know she does approve of me using boys, just the kind of validation I've always wanted.

So now when my mother says:

"Have fun.
Be careful.
Make good choices."

This is what my brain hears:

"Have Fun.
Wrap It Up.
Hit it and quit it."

Job Hunting

Job hunting is like dating.  Lucky for me (I guess?) I’ve done a fair amount of dating.  Meeting guys at bars, online, in parking lots, you know, the usual.  And I’ve found this job hunt to be surprisingly similar to finding a mate.  There’s the dream job, one that you’ve been hoping for, or at least you think you have.  Let’s just call this job the ‘fireman’, or at least the job that allows you to see the most firemen, same difference. It never calls you back. Typical.

Let me also say that there is quite the opposite to the dream job, we shall call it the ‘creepo’.  Now, in Vegas, I’ve probably had more of my share of creepo dates than most and here is what I have learned: never even acknowledge the creepos;  no eye contact, no emails, and god forbid, NEVER give them your real name, let alone real number.  Now the creepos are plentiful in the job hunt as well and come in two forms, the psych nurse and the corrections nurse.  Now, for those that know me a corrections nurse with prisoners is quite possibly the worst place for me. I’d lose my license in a jiffy and probably the simple fact that I use the word ‘jiffy’ is indication enough that I should not be providing care to the convicted.  And as much as a want to hone my Nurse Ratchet skills I could not handle being a psych nurse.  Pass out meds, be sure no one kills themselves, pass out breakfast, make sure no one kills someone else, pass out meds….you get the picture.  Just as I would have to be EXTREMELY desperate in my dating life to go for a creepo, I’d have to be even more desperate to go for it in the job market.  At least with a creepo date you can let him buy you dinner and be on your merry way;  creepo job, you have to come back the next day.

Then you have ‘mr right now’.  This is essentially settling.  ‘Mr right now’ is the one that will hold you over til something better comes along, so you’re always looking around when you have him.  Long term care, aka the old folks’ home, is ‘mr right now’.  Here’s the scary realization about ‘mr right now’ though…..what if nothing better comes along??

Finally there’s the job that seems most promising, has the most potential. This job shall be known as ‘mr. right’ because of course if there’s a ‘mr right now’ there hopefully is a ‘mr right’. Everyone says they don’t like games or they don’t play them but this requires the game whether you like it or not.  Now as tempted as you are to call the recruiter everyday you must contain your excitement, there’s a fine line between eager and obsessive (if you go obsessive then you’re the creepo!). It’s all about the schmooz and the game here.

Also, as with most dating, there is a ton of rejection.  I’m pretty sure I have been rejected ten times a day for the past week.  Actually, my dating life has not prepared me for this amount of rejection but thankfully I’m thick skinned and don’t take no for an answer very well.