Life is a series of choices. Someone, although I can't recall who, said that you are defined by who you are and the choices you make. Of course making those choices comes down to weighing different options and making that ultimate decision.
In the last few months I have had to come to terms with the old age of my first baby, Bonnette. I have had her since she was 8 weeks old. How I got her and why are not even relevant to the story but it helps to clarify that our teamwork together to get through a relationship is what makes our bond even stronger. She is 16 years and 4 months old today. Luckily I have had friendships that have lasted as long as (and even longer than) my relationship with her. I am blessed to know true enduring friendship (both human and canine). It is a considerable amount of time to love something/someone. Let's be real here, most marriages don't last that long. And oddly, Bonnette has been in my life longer than my husband and he and I have been together for a long time. This detail is really to put this all into perspective.
People don't understand why some people love their pets as much as they do. That's not me - and not just because I'm a pet owner. I have never been one to dress Bonnette up and prance her around the neighborhood. I have simply enjoyed her company, her love, her spunkiness - what makes her Bonnette - over all these years. Am not entirely sure why I have accepted so many of her quirks and idiosyncrasies when in a person I wouldn't tolerate half of it. There is an innate relationship between human and dog that they accept you for you and you reciprocate without it even being spoken or barked. I suppose that is where the bond is formed.
Maybe the bond is formed in the exuberance of their mood when they see you first thing in the morning and when you come home after a long day at work. They don't care how your day went because the most important part of their day is that you are finally home. They know when you are sick and how to nurse you to good health. They seek you out and want to cuddle even if you don't know that's what you need. They share their small span of time with you in the sole hopes that you will drop some table scraps in their direction.
In these last few days I have had to grapple with the injustice of their short life spans. Why can't she be here with me for as long as I am here on this earth? Why has all the joy I've experienced with her come to so much pain and sadness? So much of it is due to not having spent more time with her up to this point due to work, school and other committments. So much more of it is due to knowing I have very little time left with her. It is these moments of eventual loss when our priorities become crystal clear but I don't know why they aren't more evident beforehand.
With all this comes the overwhelming guilt that I will ultimately have to decide when she goes onto puppy heaven. Although I might not do the actual work, it is my command that will be followed. This is the one command that I truly hope you, Bonnette, will not obey (and you have been quite defiant, by the way and I still love you sometimes even more because of it) but I doubt it. I love you so much wiggle pickle and don't want to see you suffer anymore. I wish I could bring you the same comfort that you have brought to me all these years. But I wish I could bring it to you in life and not in death.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Passing Notes
I believe that people don't really evolve very much after high school. I am fairly certain that I have even discussed this in earlier blog entries but I digress. So many of the behaviors and actions that are prevalent in high school might be muted as adults but the tendencies are always there.
One aspect of those bygone days is note passing. Let's really think about this for a moment. Isn't texting just another form of note passing? You want to talk to someone or you want to talk about someone to someone else then you send a text. Instead of secretly passing a paper through the aisles, you pick up your device, fingers move quickly to express thought and voila...note sent.
But again, I digress. The reason that prompted this entry is due to some incidents in the past few months that I have encountered in the work place. Sadly these incidents all revolve around women so I can't begin one of my sociological experiments but hear me out nonetheless.
In many meetings a colleague or a senior manager will take a pen and write a note to me either directly in my notebook or on a piece of paper and pass it to me. I find this behavior to be very peculiar because as a sometimes teacher, I would immediately notice this comportment in a classroom. I find it hard to believe others would not but it is the teacher in me to look for these transgressions.
What I also find odd in this note passing/writing is that it is often accompanied with an explanation in a whisper of what the note means. I ask myself when this happens "Then why write or send the note anyway when you are going to explain it to me? Just say what you need to say!" I usually nod and try to get back to paying attention to the meeting or to continuing to present the meeting materials.
And here's where the difference is between high school, I don't remember this accompanying explanation. There was just a note and you understood or you didn't. If you didn't, then you'd meet up with the person in the hallway between classes or call that person after class. Perhaps I am forgetting what it really was like because I have such a distance from those times. Occasionally there was the ever covert hand cupping against the other person's ear maneuver to explain. Mostly this was used in urgent situations such as in "that person likes you" or "can I copy your homework"? Rarely was it used to annoy you while you are trying to do something serious - like pay attention in a meeting.
Perhaps I'm waxing nostalgic and should take a time machine back to those days and see myself during those moments of surreptitious communication. I doubt that even if I did, I would notice behavior that's evolved much over time.
One aspect of those bygone days is note passing. Let's really think about this for a moment. Isn't texting just another form of note passing? You want to talk to someone or you want to talk about someone to someone else then you send a text. Instead of secretly passing a paper through the aisles, you pick up your device, fingers move quickly to express thought and voila...note sent.
But again, I digress. The reason that prompted this entry is due to some incidents in the past few months that I have encountered in the work place. Sadly these incidents all revolve around women so I can't begin one of my sociological experiments but hear me out nonetheless.
In many meetings a colleague or a senior manager will take a pen and write a note to me either directly in my notebook or on a piece of paper and pass it to me. I find this behavior to be very peculiar because as a sometimes teacher, I would immediately notice this comportment in a classroom. I find it hard to believe others would not but it is the teacher in me to look for these transgressions.
What I also find odd in this note passing/writing is that it is often accompanied with an explanation in a whisper of what the note means. I ask myself when this happens "Then why write or send the note anyway when you are going to explain it to me? Just say what you need to say!" I usually nod and try to get back to paying attention to the meeting or to continuing to present the meeting materials.
And here's where the difference is between high school, I don't remember this accompanying explanation. There was just a note and you understood or you didn't. If you didn't, then you'd meet up with the person in the hallway between classes or call that person after class. Perhaps I am forgetting what it really was like because I have such a distance from those times. Occasionally there was the ever covert hand cupping against the other person's ear maneuver to explain. Mostly this was used in urgent situations such as in "that person likes you" or "can I copy your homework"? Rarely was it used to annoy you while you are trying to do something serious - like pay attention in a meeting.
Perhaps I'm waxing nostalgic and should take a time machine back to those days and see myself during those moments of surreptitious communication. I doubt that even if I did, I would notice behavior that's evolved much over time.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
The Hawk
There are always people who know nothing more than to be in other people's business. They always want to know what other people are doing and need to be a nuisance. The description of this person fits my mom pretty well. Now, I love my mom, I really do. However, there are things that she does that make my kettle boil tremendously. One of those things is how she insists that my daughter eat at all hours of the day.
My mom grew up during the Second World War. Food was scarce to the point where she and her brothers often had to split one meal or one glass of milk between the four of them. Babies in her time were scrawny and often did not live very long after birth. When I was growing up, I was constantly reminded of how the children in Africa didn't have any food or how she barely had food growing up. I was supposed to be thankful for all the food I had and eat it all off my plate. This logic was faulty in many ways.
It led me to have a strange relationship with food. I did not always see food as fuel but as either a way to gain praise from my mom or to avoid being on one of those commercials on tv where the kids had extended stomachs and flies circling all over them. I often ate more than I really wanted and never understood when I was satisfied. The feeling of not knowing when my stomach had enough was not something I wanted to pass down to my children. So I didn't.
My daughter knows when she's hungry. She tells me when she's hungry or goes and gets something to eat herself. She nibbles (not devours, like her mom) as much as she needs and no more. She has a better idea of portion control than I do. I do not force her to eat because I did not like being forced myself. I see her grazing through the day - a banana here, a yogurt there etc. She's healthy and active and eats to keep herself satisfied.
But don't show my mom this picture of independent grazing or tell her that her granddaughter noshes when necessary. She thinks my daughter is thin. She should be a super fat child like I was. One of my mom's main tactics in getting my daughter to 'mangia' (eat) is to consistently poke food or a cup of milk towards her face. One thing my mom does not lack is persistence. At any given moment if the crew from 'Wild Kingdom' were to eavesdrop on a room with my mom and daughter, they would hear the word 'mangia' at least 70 times.
Regardless of how many times my sister or I tell my mom 'stop it' with the food, it never really settles in. Even my daughter's insistence and repetition of 'no Nonna' doesn't seem to make a dent in my mom's fortitude of food forcing. In spite of my mom's ceaselessness, my daughter often will refuse to eat in front of her. We can sit at the table together and if my mom is watching her, my daughter will show the food on her plate no attention whatsoever. This just raises the stakes. My mother will insist even more and my daughter will walk away from her plate (Score one baby). My mom will attempt to win her over to the food in any way possible and my daughter will ignore her (score two baby).
It's so bad that on two separate occasions my daughter showed her defiant nature. We were eating spaghetti with clams one night and my mom was not in her line of vision. A few weeks later the meal was the same but the seating arrangements has changed. My mom stared at my daughter like she was going in for the kill, my daughter refused to eat a single piece of spaghetti in front of her. Once my mom left though, she ate a nice portion of the meal.
What this entry is trying subtly to express is that I get a supreme thrill when my daughter sticks it to my mom. I'm pretty proud of her for being able to know what she wants at such a young age. I'm also happy she knows how to do it in her own special way.
My mom grew up during the Second World War. Food was scarce to the point where she and her brothers often had to split one meal or one glass of milk between the four of them. Babies in her time were scrawny and often did not live very long after birth. When I was growing up, I was constantly reminded of how the children in Africa didn't have any food or how she barely had food growing up. I was supposed to be thankful for all the food I had and eat it all off my plate. This logic was faulty in many ways.
It led me to have a strange relationship with food. I did not always see food as fuel but as either a way to gain praise from my mom or to avoid being on one of those commercials on tv where the kids had extended stomachs and flies circling all over them. I often ate more than I really wanted and never understood when I was satisfied. The feeling of not knowing when my stomach had enough was not something I wanted to pass down to my children. So I didn't.
My daughter knows when she's hungry. She tells me when she's hungry or goes and gets something to eat herself. She nibbles (not devours, like her mom) as much as she needs and no more. She has a better idea of portion control than I do. I do not force her to eat because I did not like being forced myself. I see her grazing through the day - a banana here, a yogurt there etc. She's healthy and active and eats to keep herself satisfied.
But don't show my mom this picture of independent grazing or tell her that her granddaughter noshes when necessary. She thinks my daughter is thin. She should be a super fat child like I was. One of my mom's main tactics in getting my daughter to 'mangia' (eat) is to consistently poke food or a cup of milk towards her face. One thing my mom does not lack is persistence. At any given moment if the crew from 'Wild Kingdom' were to eavesdrop on a room with my mom and daughter, they would hear the word 'mangia' at least 70 times.
Regardless of how many times my sister or I tell my mom 'stop it' with the food, it never really settles in. Even my daughter's insistence and repetition of 'no Nonna' doesn't seem to make a dent in my mom's fortitude of food forcing. In spite of my mom's ceaselessness, my daughter often will refuse to eat in front of her. We can sit at the table together and if my mom is watching her, my daughter will show the food on her plate no attention whatsoever. This just raises the stakes. My mother will insist even more and my daughter will walk away from her plate (Score one baby). My mom will attempt to win her over to the food in any way possible and my daughter will ignore her (score two baby).
It's so bad that on two separate occasions my daughter showed her defiant nature. We were eating spaghetti with clams one night and my mom was not in her line of vision. A few weeks later the meal was the same but the seating arrangements has changed. My mom stared at my daughter like she was going in for the kill, my daughter refused to eat a single piece of spaghetti in front of her. Once my mom left though, she ate a nice portion of the meal.
What this entry is trying subtly to express is that I get a supreme thrill when my daughter sticks it to my mom. I'm pretty proud of her for being able to know what she wants at such a young age. I'm also happy she knows how to do it in her own special way.
Monday, February 23, 2015
The Grass is Greener
A number of months ago I made a job change. Most of the people who know me are aware of this change - the fact that it happened at least. It was prompted after being at a company for many years and not advancing very far despite having stellar reviews year after year. After numerous other factors began to influence my overall well being, I decided to make the move.
Most of my elation was due to the job location being back in New York City. This would make my commute easier and I could get to the gym again- two factors that were incredibly high on my list. On top of those criteria, I was going to get a salary bump and a title upgrade as well. Things seemed great! Until about a month in when they weren't. A month was a very quick amount of time to observe and realize that things were not rosy or green on the other side of the fence.
I will not get into the details of what led me to wake up to the corporate caffeine. Let's just say that a couple of things reared their head such as too much work, no plan to hire additional people to keep up with the workload, and no work-life balance.
I, then, went on a much needed vacation and had a very relaxing time with family and quality time with my daughter. When I came back to the office, it was even clearer as to how unsustainable the model would be if I didn't take more frequent breaks. However the amount of work consistently piled up to the point that a break would not be feasible without incurring double, even triple, the work in the time off. Something was completely wrong. Danger! DANGER!
I am not one to keep my mouth shut about inefficiencies or wasted time. I definitely voiced my thoughts, but as has been so often the case, no one was listening - too many people just expected the job to get done no matter what. Any one else smell this catch-22 here?
Needless to say, idioms such as 'the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence' are truths we say. It often comes to that moment in time when you realize that you often need to be grateful for what you have before you go looking elsewhere for satisfaction. And here's another one for you 'too little, too late.'
Most of my elation was due to the job location being back in New York City. This would make my commute easier and I could get to the gym again- two factors that were incredibly high on my list. On top of those criteria, I was going to get a salary bump and a title upgrade as well. Things seemed great! Until about a month in when they weren't. A month was a very quick amount of time to observe and realize that things were not rosy or green on the other side of the fence.
I will not get into the details of what led me to wake up to the corporate caffeine. Let's just say that a couple of things reared their head such as too much work, no plan to hire additional people to keep up with the workload, and no work-life balance.
I, then, went on a much needed vacation and had a very relaxing time with family and quality time with my daughter. When I came back to the office, it was even clearer as to how unsustainable the model would be if I didn't take more frequent breaks. However the amount of work consistently piled up to the point that a break would not be feasible without incurring double, even triple, the work in the time off. Something was completely wrong. Danger! DANGER!
I am not one to keep my mouth shut about inefficiencies or wasted time. I definitely voiced my thoughts, but as has been so often the case, no one was listening - too many people just expected the job to get done no matter what. Any one else smell this catch-22 here?
Needless to say, idioms such as 'the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence' are truths we say. It often comes to that moment in time when you realize that you often need to be grateful for what you have before you go looking elsewhere for satisfaction. And here's another one for you 'too little, too late.'
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