What would Barb West do?

Tex had a seizure yesterday.  A big one.  She's seized before, but they were small ones.  Her seizures are caused by excessive excitement fueled by anxiety. 

I can relate.

I, too, suffer from combination excitement and anxiety.  It's not stress, even though it may have similarities to stress.  Like Tex, it's in my DNA, so there's not a lot I can do to change the onset, but I can alter my response - mind over excitement/anxiety. 

I don't always succeed in altering my response.  My colleague says I'm stubborn.  I think that's being kind.

Sometimes the "stubbornness" fits a situation, sometimes not.  Over the years I've learned tricks to filter my stubborn side.  I try to think of the people I admire, such as my mentor Barb West and wonder how they would handle themselves. That helps.  Also, think outside myself.  It's not about me.  That helps.  Deep breathing works, too. 

This week I fear is going to challenge my ability to overcome stubbornness.  I don't want to foam at the mouth as my precious Tex did yesterday.  I also want to stand for what is right.  I wonder what Barb West would do?

BFFs

Ignorance is bliss

I was talking to a young woman today.  I asked if she had heard the comment from Newt Gingrich that President Obama is the "food stamp president."

She had not heard about that.  She had never heard of Newt Gingrich.

She's lucky.

Thanks, Alec Baldwin

I am conflicted about Alec Baldwin. So talented.  He's great at comedy and drama. His personal life has been messy, making him appear human, one of us.  Gotta like that. 

The conflict: He's got a new girlfriend young enough to be his daughter.  Ick. 

Yesterday Paul and I were watching Alec do an interview on TV.  He said he lost 30 pounds in 4 months just by giving up sugar.  More like he lost the weight trying to keep up with a health conscious yoga teacher.  I make some crack and my darling husband points out that Alec said he's also doing pilates.  Paul says this in a tone so obvious he is defending the shrinking actor.

Thanks, Baldwin. 

Last night Paul let me eat a couple of pieces from his chocolate stash.  He hides it from me but always tells me where it is when I ask.  Makes no sense but it works for us.

So today I am determined to give up sugar, just like Alec. I informed Paul that he had to hide his stash - again.  But unlike Alec, I am not doing this to run around naked with a 20-something.  I am doing it to run around naked with a 59-year-old! 

Paul, just give me at least 5 months.  Maybe 7.

N-O spells YES!

I came upon something brilliant in a Harvard blog.  Yes, I said Harvard so it must be smart.  Here it is: No is the new yes.  Think about it for a second.   

The blog was talking about work place behaviors.  People spend too much of their time responding and not enough time producing.  This especially is true in work places with micro managers.  The blog argued that saying "no" to the multiple requests each day is really saying "yes" to the best use of your time. 

No as the new yes most definitely applies beyond the job. 

I used to have a problem saying no.  No to being on some committee, no to watching someone's child, no to volunteering for a bunch of stuff.  Much of it I enjoyed, but some of it I said yes to because I hadn't yet learned to say no.  I felt obligated out of friendship - as if saying no would turn someone against me, the worst possible of outcomes.  Someone might not like me?  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

I have observed that many people learn to say no early in  life.  They tend to be confident type people.  They value their time because they believe their time is valuable.  Simple concept.  Well, not for all of us. 

They're everywhere

It was a weekend morning.  About 10 a.m.  Paul and I were running our usual errands: grocery store, Michaels for paints, Costco.  This particular morning we had added Lowes to the list.  We hit Costco then headed for Lowes.  Unsuspecting.  Naive.  Not a care in the world.  Then we saw them.

"Paul, Girl Scouts are selling cookies already?"

There is was: the now familiar table, stacked with boxes of cookies and surrounded by cute little girls and their mothers.

I was annoyed.  It's only January.  Plus, I really didn't want to be buying ANY kind of cookies, let alone Girl Scout.  I love Girl Scout cookies. I don't want the temptation in my house.  The other thing that annoys me is the moms.  I don't think it's legal for them to be helping.  It goes against all laws of selling Girl Scout cookies.  That's part of the sales pitch: pint-size sellers.

Well, we were able to resist.  We bravely walked by - going in and coming out - fake smiles and saying nothing.  Well, I told them "good luck."  Then I saw it: the look of disappointment on their tiny faces.  That's the sales catch these days.  How do you PUBLICLY say no to a little girl and then face her MOTHER'S glare???  It's awkward.  And a good sales technique.

I was a competitive cookie seller as a young Girl Scout. I held the record for selling the most boxes in my town.  The good people of Aberdeen, South Dakota, were no match for me. I sold the old fashioned way. Door-to-door. Delivered them the same way. Door-to-door.  Did my mom help me in any way?  You gotta be kidding.  No moms. No dads.  No siblings.  I did EVERYTHING.

It was a great learning experience on so many levels.  Of course there were people who turned me down.  I could care less.  It didn't slow me down a bit.

At the time I was a Girl Scout, I also had a paper route - first girl in Aberdeen to have a paper route.  I delivered to the girls' dorms at the local college.  That was my entire paper route, except on those days I also delivered my brother's route. 

So it was natural for me to go door-to-door in the girls' dorms to sell cookies.  That first year I sold cookies to college students, nobody came close to my sales numbers.  The second year, I had some competition, which I welcomed.  The point is, we worked hard and earned every cent that went to the cause.

You can better understand the conflict I feel passing up Girl Scout cookies.  But I live by my decision I made that morning at Lowes.  We make millions of split decisions - well, dozens - every day, on the spot, and we live with them.

After Lowes, Paul and I hit Michaels and then headed over to Kroger.  Unsuspecting Naive.  Not a care in the world.  Then we saw them.

"Paul! More Girl Scouts!" 

Could I really say no to Girl Scouts selling cookies again?  Twice in one day?  We approach, I make eye contact.  Smiling, I say, "We just were at Lowes and there's Girl Scouts there, too."  I was trying not to lie, but clearly I was intentionally misleading.

One of the moms says to her disappointed daughter, "They already bought some."  I let that be the final word.  It wasn't my proudest moment.

Later that afternoon, sitting in the front room, the dogs alert us to someone at the front door.  I am not kidding.  Girl Scouts.  We bought three boxes: chocolate mint, shortcake and lemon shortcake.

It apparently does NO GOOD to resist.  You can't escape.  These Girl Scouts are everywhere. 

Our Dogs, Part 3

Mika.

The artwork above was done by Monte Woods.  It is an image of our beloved Mika.  It hangs at Paul's work.  Mika's image also can be found in Paul's artwork, we're talking a couple hundred paintings. Her image sits at the bottom of our pool.  I'm not going to say that she is Paul's favorite dog, but I can safely say she is adored.

Mika is our first border collie.  She came to live with us 3 months after the devastating loss of our beloved Belle, a golden retriever.  We were a golden retriever family.  Until Mika.

We switched to a border collie after Paul stayed with a friend in Chicago who had a border collie.  He observed how loyal this dog was to his friend.  When his friend rested, the dog rested.  When his friend went outside, his dog by his side.  When his friend threw a ball, the dog fetched. 

This might describe all dogs or a least most dogs, but the border collie comes with the mother of all canine work ethics.  And in Mika's eyes, Paul is boss.  When Paul stands, Mika stands.  When Paul sits, Mika sits.  She sleeps with one eye open, ever ready should Paul pick up a Frisbee or tennis ball.

Every day Mika more than earns her place in Paul's heart - and in mine.

Ok. So the last picture doesn't include Mika, but it's so cute!!!!