Cha-cha-cha-cha changes.....

In the last few months, I’ve seen some friends make some pretty big changes in their lives.  Having a front row – or in some cases, a far away balcony – view to these transformations is pretty fucking amazing.

Lips lives in my ‘hood. She gets me. She gets me so much that I trusted her with my hair. For those that know me – you know what a big deal that is.  You see, Lips took a leap of faith and went back to school this January.  She’s channeling all of her creativity, nurturing and desire to make people feel better about themselves into changing the way we see ourselves – literally. Lips went to hair school. I’m sure there’s a more legitimate name for it but you get the point.  She’s learning to cut, layer, do-up, do-down, color, cover and highlight. More importantly – perhaps most importantly, she’s following her heart and doing what makes her happy. Her boys watch her study while they do their homework, they see her put in long days at school and still come home and be mom and wife.  They have risen to the occasion and their whole family is better for it.  The most hilarious change – and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t point this out – is the new scooter. And really, I laugh my ass off every morning when I see her scooter off to school with her helmet and over the shoulder bag – off to learn more about the art of being beautiful. I think she’s already nailed it.

 

Then there is my friend – I’ll call her seeker. We have lost touch over the last few years and primarily keep up on Facebook. She’s taken a professional risk that she and I talked about years ago and I’m thrilled to see that she appears to be thriving and happy.  There is no one more suited to be a guide, mentor, trainer than this amazing woman.  She is super smart, more motivated than most that I know, devoted to her kids and family – and friends.  We don’t talk often but thinking about what she has done actually motivated me to send her a note just wish her well. Now, if I could only be half as motivated as she is to do something about my ass.

Some of the changes I’ve seen folks go through are less obvious but often even more dramatic – more life changing. For those people, I applaud loudly…but only when I’m in a room by myself lest no one be made aware that isn’t already in the know. After all, some folks like to pull up their dress and show the world their new panties (mini-me used to do this and my mother assured me I did the same) and others like to just smile and revel in the feel of that new cotton privately.

As I’ve watched my friends weather these changes – whether they were intentional or more unexpected, I realize that intent is not the issue. What matters is how you deal, how you respond and whether you can try to embrace the crazy journey you’re on.

This is so true as I’ve watched Neiman weather cancer treatment. Were there tears? Yep. Did she get mad? Uh-huh.  But most importantly, she decided those things wouldn’t change it and she moved through that journey with humor, grace and determination. She came through the process with less hair and a potty mouth.  The hair is growing back but I think the potty mouth is here to stay.

I’ve made changes – new friends have come into my life and I’m grateful for what they have brought.  For those friends I have lost, well, I can appreciate the good times we had and know that I learned some good lessons about what I expect - both from my friends and myself – in that crazy relationship called friendship.

At the end of the day, my friends have changed – as I’m sure I have - and that may require patience, humor and a cocktail or three.  They may not be the same friends I first met – they are better. Way better.

Mean People Suck

I mean it. Some people are just mean out of spite or their own insecurities…but it still sucks and more often than not, people that tried to do right get hurt.

Mini-me and I have both had to deal with meanies lately – of the adult and child variety.  As an adult, I can at least intellectualize it though I never really understand it and yes, my feelings do get hurt. But watching Mini-me navigate that course is just painful.  I know I’ve written about this before – we had an encounter with a real snot nose in first grade but this is different.  This is partly girls going through growing pains and trying to assert themselves while they figure things out. They are learning that they won’t always like one another, friendships change and the power of exclusion and bullying.

I’m the first parent to admit my kid is probably not blameless but it’s hard when you see it yourself and what you see, for the most part, supports what your kid says. It’s hard when other parents see it, when other kids tell you they see it, when the teacher or assistant principal tells you they see it – or hear it.  To hear an administrator describe what it was like to watch my kid be bullied, immediately step in and have her tell me that mini-me wouldn’t stick up for herself for fear of one more person being mean to her – broke my heart.  For those that know mini-me, you know that doesn’t sound like my kid.

I don’t know one parent who would not fight fiercely for their own child – in their defense or on their behalf.  We want to protect our kids, believe them and instill in them the knowledge that we always have their back.  I also know my kid isn’t perfect – and I’m the first to call her on the carpet for something. She’s had to make apology calls, write apology notes and simply say, “I’m sorry” – and mean it – more times than she would like. She understands the power of  mean word or gesture – and that the best apology is not doing again. I’m that parent that wants to know if my kid was an ass – was she just being eight or is there something I can and should address? I believe that if you think your kid is always in the right, isn’t lying once in a while (likely to prevent them from getting in trouble) and is never the bad guy – you’ve got your head in the sand.  But, I’ve learned that not all parents feel that way – and some of you reading may be shaking your head and saying, “not my kid.”

So, in the last week – I stood up for myself. I talked it, and then I walked it.  Was a rough week but I made a change that will require adjustment – but will work and be great. When decisions are made based on what objectively works, feelings may get hurt but I believe it’s very repairable. When someone acts out of spite – it’s just mean and childish and hurtful. Mini-me watched this – she saw the anger, the frustration and then my decision making process. I explained as appropriately as I could. When she asked, “why?” – well, I said I didn’t know and that some people just aren’t always nice. A hard truth.

In addition to standing up for myself, I stood up for my kid – and let her watch, let her hear.  I questioned her, had others question her and despite the really shitty situation – learned that this time my kid was in the right, wasn’t lying and had been taking the high road for way too long.  She learned a whole new way to stick up for herself.  As my friend Neiman believes, you can’t go wrong taking the high road – but sometimes, you have to stick up for yourself, too. Mini-me learned that it’s hard to stick up for yourself – and if you expect your friends to stick up for you – well, you’ll either have a friend for life or be sorely disappointed. For mini-me, the latter was her reality this time.

Last week was rough. This week isn’t over. We’ve both walked the walk. We reaffirmed some friendships by those that had our backs or held our hands.  We both have likely lost friends and gained strength. I hope – no, I believe – we’re better for this.

You say tomato, I say.......orange. And, that is a-okay.

Mini-me asked me why we referred to people with brown skin as “black” – why we had to say that at all. “After all,” she said “the only difference is their skin color. It’s like me having red hair and my friend having blond. They are just people.”  I started to respond with some detailed explanation about society and stopped. Because she was right. My heart swelled with parental pride. Sometimes – once in a great while – parents see some proof that they are doing something right.

This isn’t the only time mini-me hasn’t seen differences. We have a neighbor with Down’s syndrome. She didn’t really think he was any different than any other five-year old. Another neighbor has a physical disability that affects the way she walks – to my daughter, she is just her friend’s mom and when someone asked her about this person, she shrugged and said, “I guess she hurt herself.”  It just didn’t come into play.

But, what happens when those differences are not physical – what happens when people believe differently than we do or have a really annoying habit – can we still look beyond that difference and be friends? Can we look beyond that and still be respectful and decent?  Let me be clear, it’s not like I’m the most politically correct person on the planet, I have strong opinions, can be bossy. I likely have habits that annoy the shit out of my friends.  Some of my friends are wildly different than I am – they believe something different – be it religious or political.  And yes, some of those things that make me crazy.

Take Neiman – one of my nearest and dearest.  I’ve said this before - she will always tell me to do what I think is best, or what makes me happy or just nods. I have to push her for her real opinion and still, she gives it so gently, so quietly that sometimes I’m not sure.  This annoys me every.single.time.  I need feedback, opinion and sometimes – direction. We sit on different sides of the political fence (and have really amazing conversations on the topic), she is so much more proper, always perfectly dressed with her hair just so and always takes the high road.  Those that know me well recognize how different that is from me and yet my friendship with Neiman is 20+ years strong with nary a fight.

Geek is so logical, so rational and so practical. She researches everything – be it a car, a tv or book – now imagine when it’s something really big like school or a medical issue. It can be annoying when I want to follow my usual knee-jerk reaction but on the flip side, she talks me off ledges, helps me figure things out in a solid and methodical way and has even balanced my checkbook.  Brenda Starr and I worship very differently.  Her family is quiet, subdued and proper. Mine, is well – not.  But, we’ve been friends forever and while her parents could rightly blame me for getting her drunk, encouraging her to go to bars when we shouldn’t and other behaviors inappropriate for teenage girls – I still get an annual holiday card from them and they were nothing but wildly happy and supportive when I walked the path to single motherhood.

Parenting can often pull you apart or push you together as friends.  My neighborhood posse and I have very different approaches to parenting. I am by far, the strictest of the group.  I have no doubt that our differences frustrate one another – but we just shrug our shoulders. They have taught me that these differences aren’t a make or break deal. The kids follow the rule of the house they are in – which are more similar than different – and we all know the little sticking points that have to be followed (more or less) regardless of where they are. Da Bomb and have become like a small gang at the barn and it was recently noted by someone that we’re so different and they are surprised we’re such good friends. Really? Neither our marital status nor our bank accounts define us – especially since we often think with one brain.

But more often than not, I’m seeing differences treated as deficits – as negatives so strong that each difference has grown into an either/or mentality.  I see blatant disrespect, hostility and downright rudeness. The kind of behavior or talk that makes me wonder who these people really are and if they are still my friends if I disagree or agree. It is ugly, it may be inaccurate (on both sides people – don’t get your knickers in a twist) and mean.  How can we teach our children to appreciate what is different and to be respectful of differences, respectful of people with whom we disagree when we, as the adults, can’t do that?  If our children don’t like what their teacher, coach or friend is saying, should they be allowed to call them names, malign their character, spread half-truths or treat them disrespectfully – with hateful words or actions?  After all, grownups do it all the time.

I may spend 40+ hours a week with some real asshats but I would never be anything less than respectful to my colleagues.  My daughter’s first grade teacher tested the limits of my patience but I was nothing but courteous, continuing to try and work with her appropriately I must deal with someone regularly that is less than enamored of my mere existence and hasn’t spoken to me in more years than I care to remember – all based on a life choice I made. Yet, I treat this person respectfully (and at a polite distance) because of their (limited) role in my life and though I vehemently disagree with how it’s handled, I will continue to take the high road (with Neiman’s gentle prodding) though I dread the day when mini-me notices and a talk must ensue. 

So, while I’m so proud to hear mini-me not see the differences in people I wondered where – and how – she learned that. Did she learn by how I treat my friends or by how I treat those I don’t know? Is compassion learned by watching me put an arm around a hurting friend or seeing me help a stranger? Was tolerance learned because I put up with the dreaded “Dog with a Blog” or because I patiently explain for the umpteenth time that friends like different things and that will let us learn new things? Is respect learned by telling her she must always mind her elders, her teacher or another parent – or by hearing me speak to the repairman that was late, the driver going too slow, the checker at Trader Joe's, the stranger that asked for money, the person with whom I disagree or simply by being on the receiving end of less than decent treatment and not understanding why?

This past Christmas Eve, mini-me and I sat with my brother, sister-in-law and nephew in church.  It was the first time mini-me was in church – there were lots of questions and she tried hard to sing along to words that were on the big screen. She listened patiently to the story of Christmas. Beach answered questions about the service she was so familiar with – that represented her faith and that of her family.  I answered questions about how it was different from what we believe and how we practice Judaism.  And later, as we walked on the pier (really, on our way to bar – let’s not forget who is writing this) and she heard a different church telling yet another version of the story of Christmas, she looked at me and said, “Mom, it’s the same story.”  Yes, mini-me – many stories are alike though they are told in different places, in a different language, with different words and by different people.  We all have a lot more in common than we have differences.

I believe one of the marks of a solid and true friendship is the ability to agree to disagree.  I mean, how boring would life be if all our friends were just like us? Boring and frankly, annoying. I mean, holy crap – I get annoyed at myself often enough – I don’t want to deal with a bunch of different versions of me.  I relish the differences among my friends. I’ve learned much through them - my life is fuller, richer and more diverse. I’ve learned to like new things, read different books or try something new.  I don’t always agree, I get angry or frustrated. I admire, get jealous or don’t understand. But I’m a better person for listening, for trying, for seeing a new perspective. I’m a friend because I don’t let our differences define us – but remember what we do share – what made the bond in the first place.  Our friendships sustain despite these differences – or perhaps because of them.

Imagine if that carried over to all parts of our lives.

A Little Laughter Goes a Long Way

Disclaimer: I haven’t written in a while. No valid reason – just that I’ve been crazy busy. Which is really admitting that I suck big time.

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I recently had a tough week. So tough that my Facebook post indicated I would happily greet Friday with a kiss.  My friend aka WTF replied, “with tongue.”  I immediately realized why we were friends.  But really, what makes a good friend?  Loyalty, kindness, listening – blah, blah, blah. Of course all those things matter – and they should.  They really do make for long-lasting and meaningful friendships.

But what is the other stuff that makes people click? Those things that someone says or does that makes you realize –for good or bad – that that is why you are friends.

For many – so very many – of my friends, it’s their twisted, often adolescent – sense of humor.  In fact, I think I can happily say that every single one of my friends makes me laugh.  I can tell each of them a joke – be it political, dirty, sick or twisted…and they will laugh out loud. Even if they really don’t like the humor and are likely laughing at me trying to tell it while I’m laughing so hard I wheeze.

But more than their sense of humor, it’s their ability to laugh at themselves.  As you know, my Big Susan Neiman has breast cancer.  During my visit, she was wearing “Serena” the long, dark wig of her alter ego. While driving, several guys did a double take and I reassured her by pointing this out and telling her that men would still find her beautiful. Her response? “No, they were just saying that bitch can’t get away with a wig.”  I nearly peed my pants.  When Legs was out and about and her purse spilled in a parking lot….and out came a bra…she held it up, showed her kids and laughed out loud.  When Lips drove into her garage…with a bike still on the roof rack, she was pissed – but laughing when she told us.  When Beach was so excited to show me how the cute skirt she was trying on was really a skort and flashed the flap – only to reveal that she wasn’t  wearing panties – all while standing in the mirror in the unisex changing area of Banana Republic? We both doubled over with laughter. (This was more than 15 years ago – we still laugh.) When any of my mom friends admit to a big “parenting fail” and then laugh about it.  This endears me to them.  There is a time and place for being serious –but knowing when not to is way more important. 

Now, I’m a wee bit sarcastic. I know this and most people that know me realize this, too. And, for some – it may not be in a good way.  Some Many of my friends are also sarcastic. This makes me love them long time.  Because some things just require a certain amount of snark and friends that can deliver it well, appreciate it often and use it wisely are to be cherished.

Some friends are a bit self-deprecating.  I’ll admit to calling myself a bitch and assume the neighborhood kids think so, too because I’m strict and I yell. A lot.  Doesn’t seem to stop the little buggers from coming over. The Bomb always says she really doesn’t like anyone.  But she doesn’t lack for friends and is the first to volunteer.  But what I really love is when my friends just get me. I was giving Lips a pair of wedge sandals that I never wore. I couldn’t really articulate how unattractive I felt when wearing them.  She said, “Oh, you mean like an amazon tyranny? I know just what you mean.”  Or when talking to Neiman about a man-boy and I admitted that I wasn’t sure I could get over a particular bit of snobbery and admitted to being horrified that I sounded just like her. She laughed, agreed and told me to get over it.  She has no idea how much I can't wait to throw those words back to her.

Seriously, who hasn't laughed this hard at a friend doing something stupid?

My friends know that I may laugh at them and laugh with them – but at the end of the day, I’ve got their back. I laugh at myself as often as I laugh at my friends.  Yes, I’ve walked out of the restroom at work with my skirt tucked in my panties.  I’ve laughed, coughed and sneezed at the same time – and for women of a certain age who have had children – well, that never ends well. I was just happy I was in my own house so I could quickly go change my pants.  I’ve tripped, slipped and fallen – all with an audience.  And really, who hasn’t let one slip during yoga class and then looked around to see who you could blame? And then laughed hysterically about it later with friends.

It's often the sense of humor, or lack thereof, that prevents us from becoming friends with someone. I would be hard pressed to be good friends with someone who didn't have a similar funny bone. Or at least the ability to talk smack about folks while people watching.  Nothing like an inappropriate comment, politically incorrect joke or well-timed snarky response to bond two people together. It's like finding a secret relative you actually like.

At the end of the day, friendship takes work. Like any other relationship, friends require patience, compromise, nurturing and care with a deep talk, good cry or silent understanding.  Blah, blah, blah.  But it's the other times, with a large bottle of wine, a really good joke and some big laughs that keep you coming back for more.  Humor is the icing on the friendship cake – the stuff that makes it more fun and oh so much sweeter.