Social Media Mayhem

Choose happy.  Start your day with a smile.  So blessed.  I could go on but my brain does not work well when on optimistic overload.  I much prefer to write in my own reality even when it is far more real than I may want it to be at times.  Perhaps I am being too blunt when I ask if people really, truly believe the quotes they post daily, but after having read more than my fill in the five minutes I was perusing my mostly fashion-heavy Instagram feed, I cannot help but wonder.  Why do so many people feel the need to share all this motivational inspiration?  Do people who post these quotes believe that people don't choose to be happy or that they start off cranky everyday?  Are they gentle reminders or scream in your face demands?  I wonder.

Despite what you may or may not read on my blog, I genuinely do choose happy each day...it just seems that of late, happy does not want to be chosen by me or, rather, we are frenemies instead of BFF's depending on the day. Some days, I resent being told to start my day with a smile because it implies that I may have forgotten to do so or that I start my day with a scowl, which I don't (at least not often enough to mention).  I suppose I have to keep in mind  that the majority of my virtual blogger friends are far younger than I am, mere neophytes in the world of marriage, children and life in general.  At this point in their lives, they haven't a clue about what it takes to stay married for 26 years, all while navigating through ups and downs, good times and bad...and worse.  While I certainly know that problems do not exclusively belong to those who have lived longer, I think we can all agree that life's challenges certainly can color one's perspective and outlook.

That seems to sum up my rant du jour. Today, my black and white manner of dealing with life has reared its ugly head and I am craving some Jimmy Choo and Rag and Bone and the like.  That is inspiration enough for me to choose happy (at least for a little while). 

The Countdown Is On

I know it has been a while since I have posted, but there really has not been much to say. Still no job, still bitter, still trying to make the best of it. That said, as most of you must know by now, writing is cathartic for me and my mind is so full of 'stuff' that if I don't let some of it out, my head is going to explode (and I detest anything messy). Of course, it is Monday and as if that is not bad enough in and of itself, it is the first day back to school after our two week spring break.  Even though it was not exactly spring-like nor did we venture to any exotic locale, it was fun to be free from the stress of homework, projects and deadlines of any kind.  Since I am a mom who truly enjoys being with her children (a lot), the house seems far too quiet for me right now.  The big issue, however, is not merely our returning to a routine but, rather, the fact that now I have to face the fact that graduation is a mere two months away.  My last hurdle, our spring break, is now behind us and we are on a bullet train to the end of my son's senior year.  Most people I speak to simply don't understand why I am making such a fuss about this and why I cannot get past it.  I have been told that I need to accept that he is growing up (I do), be happy that he is moving on and becoming more independent (I am) and just be happy about the fact that he is happy about moving on to the next stage in his life (duh, who says I am not?).  I suppose the issue stems from a fact that my mom pointed out to me back when I was three years old and wildly in love with Dean Martin, a feeling that has never changed.  She told me that when I love, I love in a deep and unwavering way, quite possibly to a fault.  I suppose this is the case with my children.  Of course, rationally I understand how fabulous this next stage in life will be for him and how normal it is for him to be excited about leaving the nest, but a part of me mourns all that I will be missing out on in his next chapter. Selfish, you bet. Honest, to a fault.

Each one of my children is so different and each gives me something special that no other one can. This son, though quite different from me in personality, possesses a sarcastic wit not unlike my own.  We 'get' each other.  He also approaches school and his writing assignments as I do and he loves my input on those assignments.  How could I not love a child who wants my input where writing is concerned?  My other three, not so much.  I could drone on and on about the qualities that I will miss in his daily presence, but I won't lest someone send the men in the white coats to save me from myself.  Suffice it to say, I miss him already.

I know it will get easier once he is away at school (notice I did not say when he is gone), and that I will adjust to the 'new normal.'  I don't have to like it, however.  So, the countdown is on...senior speech, Prom, finals and then graduation. Two months and counting from yesterday.  Retail therapy has always helped me in the past but today it did nothing for me nor did the coffee I have been drinking all morning.  Since I don't drink and it is raining and dreary, I think I am in for a long afternoon.

I suppose I should refrain from collecting his pictures for the senior slide show parent event. Can you say tissues, anyone?

Got To Have Faith

A while back, I wrote a blog expounding upon how I no longer needed to write about unemployment, but we all know how that morphed into a lie.  Okay, lie is a strong word but trust me, I never ever (ever, get the point?) wanted to discuss that topic again.  Sadly, another corporate re-structuring changed that yet again. Fear not, readers, this post is not going to be filled with hate-filled invectives about our plight or the necessity of us finding a job because not having a job (and money!!!) is pretty annoying and suffocating, to say the least.  It is, however, going to be a testament to my husband's big heart, creativity and overall sense of stewardship as it relates to his seemingly never-ending job search and finely-honed networking skills.  You see, after countless years of networking and fine-tuning his '30 second elevator speech' (basically a hyper-condensed version of his resume), he is starting his own networking group at our church.  When he first came to me to discuss the idea, I have to admit I was skeptical not only because it was such a large undertaking, but I also did not think that he would be able convince the 'powers that be' at church to allow the meeting to be held there.  As seems to be the case of late, I was wrong again and he was greeted with open arms.  Perhaps even better for his 'lack of a job' bruised ego, they loved his ideas and have given him carte blanche in implementing those ideas for the meetings. He is energized in a way I have not seen of late and while we are still on the hunt for a 'real job,' I am so proud of him for pushing forth and trying to help other people even though he may not be feeling so great about himself right now.

How I wish that a recruiter could see the level of professionalism my husband possesses and the intense desire he has to be successful at whatever he chooses to do.  My hope is that this new endeavor not only helps its participants find employment, but that through his selfless desire to 'give back,' my husband is rewarded with a job as well.  He has certainly worked hard for it.

For information about the group, check out the group page on Linkedin SJTW Job Transition and Networking Group or contact me at virtualme2011@gmail.com  Spread the word!

What's Up?

As you know by now if you follow my blog, I have been struggling not only with thoughts about content, but also in which direction I would like to take my blog given that my thoughts are focused almost 24/7 on helping my husband find a job and my son's impending graduation from high school. I obsess about the big move on to the college years,  but I tear up too much thinking about that so I try to get those thoughts out of my head ASAP. Seriously, we do have a very l-o-n-g six months ahead until his departure in August ( at least that is my story and I am sticking with it). So, sitting here on this snowy day, I said, "Self (as I often refer to myself upon reflection), what the heck do you want to talk about today?  The dismal weather?  Nah, we are all fed up with that, nothing new there. The job search?  Bleh, talk about a turn-off.  Oh, I know.  How about the world according to Facebook and Instagram?"  Time for a reality check.

Can you imagine if life was really like the one people portray on social media?  A perfect world filled with photos of amazing and stress-free vacations, brilliant children always making the right choices, fabulous parties and everyone looking model perfect all the time.  Sometimes I find myself getting caught up in all the perfection and I take an emotional hit for not being able to keep up with everything I see others doing or how they look doing it, especially when I am feeling and looking far from perfect myself.  I battle with the old catch-22 where this is concerned as I know checking out my Facebook or Instagram feed might be a mine field some days but, if I don't check it, I feel as though I might be missing out on something.  Funny how that works,no?

I suppose the bottom line is that a person's life is not defined by his social media feed and the pictures and snippets added to a status update.  Oddly, I suppose the voyeur in me cannot look away and while I do get caught up in the superficial aspect of it all, more oft than not I know people don't always look amazing.  The photo of the perfectly dressed and coiffed children probably took an hour to get and included breakdowns from both children and parents.  People are people with both good days and bad and the reality of social media is simply which persona one chooses to put forth on any given day.  Unless of course, you are someone like Ivanka Trump who looks gorgeous every day of the week (wink wink).

NYFW

"Every year the women of New York leave the past behind and look forward to the future...this is known as fashion week."  Thank you, Carrie Bradshaw from Sex in the City. Designers, fashion bloggers, celebrities and fashionistas alike are all either en route to NY or already seated front and center as the shows commenced this morning.  I have been checking my Instagram feed far too often today to catch the latest glimpses of a world I would so love to be a part of, if only for a day.  From the fabulous clothes to the furs, jewels and overall vibe of the events, nothing would make me happier right now (okay, my husband finally finding a job would rate above a front row fashion week seat...I think) than to be in NY and to be part of the week's events. As unbelievable as it might sound, my love of fashion started when my grandpa, who was a professional photographer and who did some work for Conde Nast, the magazine publisher, put my very first copy of Glamour magazine in my hands at the ripe old age of 5 years old.  Bam, I was hooked by the glossy pages and the beautiful models, eclipsed only by the gorgeous designs they wore.  Little did my grandpa know that by handing me that magazine, he not only created a 'fashionista-wanna-be' but he helped to encourage a love of reading against which no childrens' books could possibly compete.

For those who know me well this is old news, but to my newer friends who see me daily in a long black down coat from November to May only to be replaced by my summer uniform of a skirt and a tank top, this might come as quite a surprise. The moral of this story is as old as time, however, never judge a book by its cover...or by a plain, long back coat as the case might be.  I may be all lacrosse mom on the outside, but on the inside, I am all over that Victoria Beckham dress and those Jimmy Choos.

Max Azria New York Fashion Week Fall 2014 Collection

Lower Than Low

I was on the phone with my mom this morning once again bemoaning the fact that the inside of our freezer is warmer than our outdoor temperature by double digits yet again.  Hundreds of schools and colleges are closed in our state (not ours, mind you, but let's not go there) because frankly, it is just too damn cold outside!  Before moving here, I never really gave a thought to the crazy folks who chose to live in areas where double digit sub-zero temperatures were possible and now I am one of them. My mom, who in a moment of weakness and extreme love for her only grandchildren, dragged my dad and moved out here as well, told me that she feels as if she knows how the pioneer women lived as they moved forward across the country, facing harsh winters to finally settle here. She questioned why the heck they didn't turn right around and head back to the beautiful coastline and forget about wide-open spaces, freedom and all that nonsense.  They had the beach, for heaven's sake.  I told her I felt that by mile 705, their brains were probably frozen rock-solid so they were not thinking anymore, merely moving forward in an effort to maintain some body heat to keep from freezing to death.

My friends back home ask me how I stay warm in weather this cold, but the truth of the matter is that I am never really truly warm, only less cold, despite the maxi-length down coat, heavy boots and thermal gloves I wear daily.  Gone are the days when I obsessed about what I was going to wear because no one sees me without that silly coat until at least the end of March. Some days I feel as though I am single-handedly keeping Bath & Body Works afloat with the amount of lotions and creams I buy in a futile effort to keep my skin from turning to sandpaper from the extreme temperature. For that matter, ditto the makers of Excedrin to combat the migraines I get worrying about the weather and the snowfall totals, the gale force winds, the thickness of the ice on the roads and whether or not we will be able to see asphalt sometime before June.

There is not a day that goes by that I am not thrilled with my car's heated seats.  My children love them, too, although I have more children than heated seats which has afforded me the opportunity to use them as a bribe.  It is amazing how cooperative children can be when the thought of being relegated to that lowly unheated third row in my car comes into play.

So, today, as we once again descend to a -40 temperature with windchill, I am here in body only because my mind and my heart are warming with dreams of warm sand and crystal clear water...without an iceberg in sight!

Stuck

I am struggling with whether or not to move forward with blogging as I am so frustrated and agitated with our life right now that nothing seems right. I seem to have nothing positive to say. We are hamsters in a wheel running as quickly as we can, but failing to move forward. I am growing more tired by the minute with nothing to show for it.  Yes, the workout might be great but even the most successful exercise routines are founded in variety.  It is, after all, the spice of life or so I have been told.  This, my friends, is the problem. I write about things about which I am passionate and for the past four years that has been our struggle with my husband's on again off again employment status. Honestly, as I wrote those words I had to stop and 'take a moment' as it seems surreal and so exceedingly outrageous that this issue has perpetuated for four years and counting. I have such strong feelings about our situation that I could talk and write about it 24/7, but I do realize just how monotonous it must for my reader. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to stop thinking and talking about it myself. The problem is that I am stuck, emotionally, creatively and mentally, cycling round and round like that hamster, unable to push forward with a fun idea about which to write. Unemployment permeates every facet of our lives and despite trying to come up with some new and exciting topic, all creative roads seem to lead me straight back to our lack of a job.

So, where do I go from here?  Do I stop blogging until my husband gets a job?  With our track record that might take a while. Cranky and resentful?  Yup!  Do I continue to whine and share said crankiness via my blog because, in some way, it is cathartic?  Perhaps. Right now, I don't know which decision is the 'right' one or if in fact, there is a 'right' one at all. Maybe I will just focus the bulk of my blogs on my son's impending high school graduation and departure for college. Then I could switch from a tone of anger and desperation to sadness and worry. Trust me, if you are looking for a light-hearted and fun read, you are definitely reading the wrong blog. On some level, though, reading my blog is uplifing.  As my friend said to me (yes, she still is my friend despite saying this), "whenever I feel down, I think about your life and know how lucky I am because I could be you."  Nice, huh?