Were you raised on fairy tales?

Posted by random olio

I recently wrote about whether you should tell you kids about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. I wonder though about fairy tales. Are they different?

I do not remember my parents pushing fairy tales on me, but, I do remember reading my share of them. Did I believe them? I do not remember. I had an imagination as a kid, but I am not sure it was specifically from fairy tales, mostly I think my imagination because of the volume of books I read. I grew up without a television, so my life was interesting through what and where I explored outside, the individuals (they were characters!) I met on my paper route, and what I read in books. Sure I watched television and movies, but only at friend’s houses or when I stayed with my grandma.

The books that I read led me to write. I made up stories all the time. Whether they were good or not is another thing. I still have all of them, but have not snuggled on the couch with warm tea and pulled them out to go over what my little self wrote about. I am sure I will be amused. I can remember one was a mystery and had a detective, and another about a girl president. Who knows where I got those ideas. I am sure many of the books I read as a kid kindled that fire that made me want to write.

Which is why I liked this informative blog post about how great leaders are birthed from fairy tales. This post shares how exposure to fairy tales, means you just might be imaginative, have critical thinking skills, and are creative. It also shares the words of Albert Einstein:

“If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.”

I love it. For those of you that are parents out there, bring out the fairy tales. Allow your kids to ask questions, dream, and wonder about what is possible. You never know what Hansel and Gretel might mean for your adventurous son, and Cinderella for your beautiful daughter. I think fairy tales start conversations about what is true, what could be, and what should be. I never had those conversations with my parents, but hey maybe you will.

Sometimes you have to drop your pride

Posted by random olio

Even if a novel is not a true story, sometimes there is a character that gets under your skin, and makes their way into your heart. I just finished reading “Outside the Lines” by Amy Hatvany. It is a story about a girl who is trying to find her father. When she was ten he left because of his mental issues. He could not stay on his medications because it numbed him, but could not function without his medication. She is 30 and trying to find her father 20 years later. This excerpt made me think of my own dad:

“‘I’m useless,’ he cried. ‘Totally useless. I’m a terrible father. I’m a terrible painter. I should just leave…you’d be better off without me. Everyone would.’ He shoved his face in his hands, making it awkward to keep him in my embrace. I could feel his tears drip down on my forearm. His pain bled into me, pushing through my skin. It made my stomach clench. He only used to cry once in a while, now it was happening all the time.” page 39

Dad rarely cried. He would call me every few weeks when I was in college. Instead of short frequent conversations, they would be three agonizing hours. I could not get him to stop talking to me. Maybe that is why it is hard for me to finish a conversation today, and why I feel guilty walking away, even if I am late for another engagement. I never knew how to get my dad off the phone. Maybe I felt that staying on the phone with him would make things different for him. Or better.

The final years of his life were not great for my father. Looking back it makes me sad to think about his loneliness. Those late night phone calls, when I should have been studying, made me feel like the parent. It definitely made me a better listener. He would tell me about the construction jobs he was working on, and the clients he liked, and those he did not. He would talk about his siblings, and whether he was in touch with them. We talking about my siblings and whether he was in touch with them. He would talk about his dreams, and where he wanted to take his life. He hoped that things would come through for him, and if they did he was going to find a better place to live, or eventually replace his old blue truck. Sometimes he was in a good mood and would tell me how proud he was of me, other times he would be so down in the dumps that I knew my words of affirmation would not sail into his ears, they would just float through the mouthpiece of my phone and out the ear of his phone.

My mom was dead. He missed her. Even though they divorced a few years before she passed on, I knew he still loved her. Even if they fought and argued, you could still see the love they had for each other. His work life was hard, back-breaking work and he was not getting any breaks. He longed to be able to pay his bills, and have something be easy in life. My sister and I encouraged him over and over again to get a job working for someone else for the knowledge that he would have a regular paycheck and health benefits, but that was not my dad. From as far back as I could remember my dad did not take orders from anyone. This meant the last thing he would do is work for someone else. I do not think he truly understood that sometimes when things are tough it is better to drop your pride, be good, collect a paycheck and put your feet up at the end of the week.

What he may not know is that I learned from his example. I have a bit of him in the “do your own thing” in me, but I also appreciate what it means to know you have a secure job, health benefits, and someone who might just rub your feet at the end of the week. It is not something to take for granted.

Opportunity Cost

Posted by random olio

Do you ever justify a purchase? Do you think to yourself, I worked hard this week, I deserve this purchase. Or, you might think about how you did not go out to dinner and a movie with friends last week, so you can buy this expensive coat. I justify purchases. Often it is that I should not purchase a specific item, either because we do not need it, or because I believe it is too expensive. Other times, I tell myself, if I purchase this, I will not purchase something else. Or, if I do not purchase something I can save for something better later.

A few weeks ago, I finished reading: “Decisive: How to Make Better Choices in Life and Work” by Chip Heath & Dan Heath. There was a quote that resonated with me:

“‘Opportunity cost’ is a term from economics that refers to what we give up when we make a decision. For instance, if you and your spouse spend $40 on a Mexican dinner one Friday night and then go to the movies ($20), your opportunity cost might be a $60 sushi dinner plus some television at home. The sushi-and-TV combo is the next-best thing you could have done with the same amount of time and money. Or if you love both shopping and hiking, then the opportunity cost of a Saturday afternoon at the mall might be the forgone opportunity to hike through a nearby park.” page 42

Is that how you make decisions in your life? Do you ever think about the opportunity cost for the choices you make? It is not always a bad way to make decisions. Chris and I spent a few years feeling stuck in the condo we owned. We knew we could not sell it due to the year we purchased it and the market, so we stayed put and continued to save for our future. Last fall we saw a window and found a house we fell in love with instantly. If we had not spent all those years saving, we would not have been able to make the move into our current home. I look at that as our opportunity cost. We stayed in a home for a few years and saved in order to now live in a home we love. It worked for us.

Is that how you look at money and decisions? Is it easier to have the opportunity right in front of you now, so you can see the instant gratification? Does that help you look into the future, or is what you want right now the only way to live? If you are diligent today, tomorrow, and the next day, could that give you more options in a few years? Yes. I can tell you that waiting often gives you more options, but not always. We have to listen for what makes the most sense in each situation. It will be different for everyone.

What do you think?

Childhood, Nightgowns, and JCPenney’s

Posted by random olio

Over the weekend, I finished reading: “Still Points North” by Leigh Newman. A memoir about Newman’s Alaskan childhood. When I read this line, my mind wandered to my own childhood, my grandma, and JCPenney’s:

“Only then do I realize about her nightgown. It’s bunched around her chest, almost to her neck–a classic Nana bed garment; creamy JCPenney satin with a froth of French lace at the neck. She has drawers and drawers of them; they’re her trademark, along with the kimonos and martinis and hot-silver hair.” page 202

I do not know how many of you grew up with a JCPenney’s in your town. When I was young it was always exciting when the JCPenney’s Christmas catalog came in the mail, where you could go through pages and pages of toys and see what you might want to add to your Christmas list. Looking back though, I am not sure I ever really received anything from the catalog, but I guess it was always the dream of it.

What I remember most about JCPenney’s was my grandma and her nightgowns. She always wore a specific kind. It was silky soft, and usually was a subtle pink or blue. Nothing too exciting, but she always purchased them at JCPenney’s. It is funny as I look back how consistent my grandma was, how even, and routined she lived her life. I see a lot of that in me, and yet, I also like to try new things. Sometimes because of the adventure, and sometimes I do not have a choice. You know what it is like when your favorite t-shirt is no longer made or the company makes it but not out of the same fabric? So you have to move on and try something new. Sometimes the new version you find is actually better than what you were stuck to, and other times you never find a backfill that will ever compare.

My grandma would also wear these atrocious cotton robes. Although, she called them housecoats. They were hideous. I would never have wanted to be caught wearing one. The cotton felt harsh on your skin, but it was what she wanted. She would get up in the morning put the housecoat over her nightgown then put on her slippers and often wore that outfit for a good part of the day. Until she decided it was time to put clothes on, or because she was leaving the house.

Each time Chris and I would visit her, we would make sure to make a trip to JCPenney’s to pick up a new nightgown and housecoat for her. I knew I could never buy them anywhere else as she would not wear them. It would either sit in her drawer, or she would berate me to return it right away. Even when she was in the last few months and weeks of her life, Chris and I made the trip to JCPenney’s to see what we could find for her.

I have been to a JCPenney’s once or twice since my grandma died, but not for my usual grandma sleepwear purchase. Chris and I found that they have a great blinds section. Even so, anytime I see a JCPenney’s ad I think of my grandma and her nightgowns.

Her story knocked me on my ass

Posted by random olio

There are days when I love when something knocks me on my ass. When I am challenged and I think wow, I need to hone my craft and be better. A story is a way I can be wowed. It can suck me in, make me forget what is on my To-Do list, make me want to stop everything to find out what happens next. The art of the story pushes me to learn more about myself and dig deep. A few weeks ago, I read a novel called “Barefoot Season” by Susan Mallery, about a war veteran who came home after serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

She struggled to acclimate herself back into civilian life. In the end it was an abused dog that brought her back to normalcy. Having the need to care for an abused animal helped her heal her own wounds, both physical and emotional. Her story sucked me in. I wanted to read on. I wanted to know more. The author did an excellent job at making you forget that you had a bathroom to clean or laundry to do. It was compelling enough that I forget my surroundings and could not wait to find out how it would end. Yes, it was a chick lit book. Yes, it was cheesy, and yet I got sucked into her story, her pain, her success.

There are times when a book will knock you on your ass because it will transform the way that you view the world. You are altered. Changed. Your filter and view of life will no longer be the same. You look at your friends, family, and neighbors with a renewed lens on life. Whether from a book you read, or from the mouth of someone you know, stories take us outside of ourselves, and often put us in another’s shoes. Whether it comes from a novel or the raw realness of life, the art of story means we are never the same.

#storychangeslife