These Are The Best Years Of Your Life

"These are the best years of your life." We've all heard it before. If you're like me? I would imagine that you've heard it at various stages of your life. When you're 6, when you're 12, when you're 16, when you're 18, when you turn 21, when you hit your mid-twenties, when you hit 30. I'm just going to stop right there because I turned 32 yesterday but I'm still having a problem admitting it. The point is - how can the best years of my life be RIGHTNOW if you also told me that when I was 18? And let's not talk about when I turned 16 and you said that being able to drive - which means you were allowed to go to the store for milk, finally..yay? - and all my teenage problems were the best years of my life?

Me: Life is so hard. I have a zit and the big dance is tomorrow.
Elder: No, these are the best years of your life.
Me: But Bobby doesn't even like me. *sobs*
Elder #2: She's right. It doesn't get any better than this.
Me: Um, you said that when I turned 13. Remember?
Elder #3:  That was also true.
Me: I think you guys are just making this stuff up.
Elder: No, we know. Because we have already lived through the best years of our lives.
Me: How do you know, if you're not dead yet?
Elder #3: We know, because we're older.
Me: I want to be older, so I can know when my good days were.
Elder #2: No you don't. Because when you turn 21 is the best year of your life.
Me: Are you listening to yourselves?

Let's just work a few of these out here.

When you're 6? Life is awesome, no doubt.

Pros

• Toys. And playing. The days where someone says "Go play in your room" will end, trust me. This is a sad fact, but still a fact. 
• Mr. Rogers wants to be your neighbor AND your friend. You are sold on this fact and are magically transported to a land with talking puppets and an awesome train every day. And it never grows old. Who cares if this is a rerun? 
• No one is expecting you to do much other than pick up after yourself and tie your own shoes, by now. 
• School still consists of having a good time. Someone will judge how well you color. And there are naps. Glorious naps. You will miss those.

Cons

• Someone is going to judge how you color and try to make you stay within the lines. Life is hard. But stay strong, little dude. You can do it. Also they will say "what is this?" (even when you know clearly it's a picture of a unicorn and a rainbow, they'll never get it. Adults never do. It's okay. Better to learn this now.)
• Your parents may let you watch the Wizard of Oz. And you may get scared. You may even wet your bed. This is not cool. But if you have cool parents? They won't tell anyone about it, until you turn about 18. And then you will probably die of mortification. But don't worry, 18 is the best year of your life, too. 
• You have to go to bed while the sun is still up. When you're 32? You will wish this is something you could do. But at 6? Worst day ever. 
• You will have to eat vegetables. Whenever the adults say so. They will tell you when you're older you can make your own decisions and when you're under your "own roof" you can eat cold pizza every day for dinner. You won't, but it's nice to know you'll have options when you're older, isn't it?  

Let's skip ahead to say 13. You're a teenager, you're almost a grown up, right? That. Is. Awesome.

Pros

• You can go into the movies alone. Your parents will drop you off at the movies and pick you up. You have absolute freedom. No one else is as cool as you are. 
• School isn't terrible. It's got classes, but mainly there are people. Lots of people. People who want to be your friend. People who will share everything with you. These people will, you are sure, will be there forever. They are your Best Friend forever. 
• Your mom has stopped picking out your clothes, and you have much more of a say in what you wear. She will try to dissuade you from wanting that Justin Beiber shirt because...well, because she has better taste in music than you do right now. But you will have to have it. And she'll let you leave the house looking like a dorky Belieber. 
• Everything is full of endless possibilities. You're going to start high school, where all the cool kids are. And you will own that place, you are sure of it.  

Cons

• Your mom drops you off at the mall, or the movies, or at the park to see your friends. She waves goodbye and yells "I love you, pumpkin" out of the window. You will want to crawl into yourself and die - this is normal. But one day you'll miss it, trust me.  And all your friends you're trying to be cool in front of, they also have parental figures. Even if they deny it.
• Your Justin Beiber shirt was cool. Was. And then he broke up with Selena Gomez. And you had to choose a side. All your friends decided Justin was at fault. And now you have this shirt in your closet that you'll never be able to wear again. Should have listened to Mom.
• Relationships. The world is full of boys and girls and they're all so adorable and they looked at you after math class and you think that Billy likes you, but you're not sure. And his friend Paul maybe sorta brushed your hand in the lunch line. And you were like "woah". You'd think this should be in the pros. But this is when you start to stare in the mirror and wonder if your nose is too big, or ponder about if you should stop wearing those ugly winter boots that your mom got you. You know the ones, the ones that you'd rather be seen dead in than walk to the bus in. Because "Mooooom. Bobby is on my bus." Or do you like Ted today? No one knows who you really like. Even you. You'll never figure that out, fully, either. Just embrace it now. 
• This is where you learn what a real friend is. And sometimes it breaks your heart, and sometimes you think your world is over because Sally won't talk to you anymore. Literally, the world has stopped spinning because Susie and Sally are mad at you for talking to Charles after lunch class. They'll come back to you. And if they don't? Darlene and David are going to be there in high school to fill their spot. Even if you don't think anyone will ever be able to. Time does heal all wounds.

You made it all the way to 18. This will surely be the best year of your life, yes? Let's figure that out now.

Pros

• You can vote. You will make a difference in the world. You have a voice. A voice that no one can deny now. 
• You are an adult. You can purchase a lottery ticket (trust me, you'll probably never win but you'll at least now have the option to try!) or cigarettes. What else could a person want?!
• You're getting ready to graduate from high school. The world is really yours to have. Didn't they always tell you that you could do anything you wanted? Just wait. You're going to study abroad, you're going to backpack through the mountains. You're going to do what you want and when you want to do it! Because you can. Because you're finally an adult!

Cons

• They trust you to vote. Holy crap. You aren't old enough for this. Can you bring your mom to the poling station? Because this is a lot of heavy stuff. What does a congresswoman do, again? 
• You're an adult. You can get a credit card.You probably will. You'll be amazed that that money you borrowed? It has to be paid back. It is not, as you previously thought, free money. Someone lent that to you. And you have to give it back. And boy does it add up quickly. 
• You have to figure out what to do with the rest of your life. Do you want to join the army? Do you want to go to college? Should you worry about getting married this soon? Do you really love your high school sweetheart enough to follow them to college? What will you major in? Oh God, do you really have to pick right now? They'll tell you you have to. But as someone who just turned 30+ (I'm not sure if this sounds better or worse than saying 32...) I still have no idea what I'm going to be when I grow up. No one ever does. And if they tell you they do? They're lying and they've stopped dreaming. Never stop dreaming. 

I believe we can wait until the next post to go over the next few stages of life. But I think the point is clear. There are pros and there are cons to every part of our life. The only beauty is that we can pick and choose what moments to relive as we get older. Now that I'm (gulp) 32, I don't have to relive that time I fell on my face in front of everyone when I was 12. I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me hole, that day (Thanks, baby Jesus, for not listening to that request)...but now I rarely think about it. I do remember the feeling of being able to conquer the world I felt when we won a state softball tournament and they put that medal around my neck, though. And that was the best day of my life. In that moment.

Yesterday I turned 32. I got to see my best friends, I was surrounded by my family. I went to my job that I've been able to grow into and tailor to work with my degree. And guess what? So far? Thirty-two is the best year of my life. Because I have a lifetime of memories I get to take with me. I get to remember everything I did, everything I was, everything I wanted to be. And I'm an adult...which means I can color outside of the lines. And no one grades me. And my mom doesn't drop me off at the movies and yell "I love you pumpkin" out of the window. But she did accompany me to one, for my birthday, and that was just the start to the best year of my life, I think.    

Don't Settle For Less, Even Though Less Is More...?

They say you shouldn’t settle for less. More is always better. But then they sometimes say that less is more. Make up your mind, old adages. And do it quick. Because I’m torn.

We've all been told that less is more. Sometimes this is when our parents want us to wear less makeup when we're teenagers. (And more clothes. Less makeup. More clothes. I believe this is still true for teenagers now.)

But then you go out for that first job interview and your friends and family (and sometimes people who have no business telling you what to do and how to think) remind you that you shouldn't settle for less. Find the job that you love best. Find a place to pay you more. More more more!

So let's take a closer look....           

When less is better:
Less weight when I step on the scale
Less stress
Less worry
Less bills


When more is better:
More clothes*
More laughter
More fun
More money in the bank to pay for the less bills

*because the smaller they are the more I can fit into my closet, right?

 Which leads me to the part of the question we started with – when is less more?

Less stress can generally equate to more laughter and fun. And less bills leads to more money. Maybe we need to stop worrying (less worry!) about whether we want to settle for less or whether less is more and take a few minutes to laugh more and have more fun. The money thing? That can wait for another post.

Let’s worry more about settling less. And spend less time worrying about getting more.

Many people and cultures believe that having less leads to knowing how much more we really have. And having less leaves more room for other things. So long as those other things aren't worry or stress? I think you're on the right track.

What things do you think are "better" with less and when is more "better" for you? Let me know. We'll get through this together, readers. Until then....

Anything You Can Do...

You remember the song..."anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you. No you can't. Yes you can." I believe this was my parents' mantra to me, as a child. I was, most definitely, raised to believe that anything I wanted to do, I could. And better. (Why not work in some Doctor Who and the song here, I say)



My parents were never very good at the gender identifying roles, when it came to parenting me. I was often told I didn't need a man (or another person, to be honest) to survive. And I come from a "still-married" family. So it wasn't a "I did it without your father, you can do it without a man," it was just a known fact that could (and would) be self-sufficient.

My father taught me to change the oil in my car when I was barely a teenager. And before I was even allowed to think about getting a driver's permit, my father made me learn how to change a tire and drive a stick shift. What if I was driving alone and my tire blew? Or what if I was at a party with a boy and he got drunk and happened to have a stick shift car? I would know how to handle all of these situations, because I was not going to be a position where I needed someone else. I could do it myself. And I could do it better.

I was very entitled, as a child. But not entitled in the sense we think of celebrities or those who are well-to-do from the beginning. I just felt like I was entitled to the world. Because I was a human. I received nothing special for being a girl, but I also got nothing less for not being a boy. 

I wasn't only given "girl" toys to play with, I played every sport imaginable, and I came home so dirty sometimes, I was told to ride in the back of the truck on the way. My parents often plastered on a huge proud grin I pitched a no-hitter, or dove head-first to cover home plate. My family built an addition on their home that involved digging a basement through a hill in our backyard and hauling plywood up flights of stairs on top of my head. It was never explained or even inferred that this was boys work. My mother and even my young sister were involved in the entire process.

I know how to use a level, I can help you wire electrical work in your house, and I can tell you where all the crawlspaces and attic entries in the house are - all thanks to my father. I also know how to cook a fabulous meal for you from scratch, thanks to him. I never thought that cooking was something that women did. It was something that people who wanted to eat food or feed their friends and family did. My mother worked and worked hard, as did my father. I never thought about the idea that some women didn't work, when I was growing up. Why wouldn't they? They're just like men. My parents shared the chores, the rushing me to practices, they both showed up to my school and sport functions.

When I went away to college and started studying computer science - all my peers were males. It never occurred to me that my potential field of interest was for boys...until the other three girls in the program dropped out before the end of the first semester. I think it was only then I looked around at the sea of men and realized, wait - I'm different. Not that it ever phased me. What could they do that I couldn't? There's no heavy lifting (which I can do anyway) in computers. And I certainly didn't have to worry about peeing standing up (that's really the only thing that men can do that I can't. I'm sure I could work on this if necessary) to get a degree or start a career in computer programming.

I ended up in a different field, but still work in a very male-dominated situation. I don't know if that phases me, either. It merely meant I had to learn how to tell a dirty joke and not be offended when they made jokes that inferred women were stupid or lesser humans.(Disclaimer: I am not bashing males or saying they are all sexists jerks, before this starts. But there is a bit of joking that occurs when you're the only female in a male filled department.) I work hard, I do a good job, they treat me as their equal more often than not. And while it may have made me a bit more "rough around the edges" then some women? I wouldn't trade it for the world. Because it is the epitome of the song "anything you can do, I can do better..." Do I have to work harder for respect sometimes? Maybe. Do I have to prove myself at times? Sure. But who doesn't?

Some of my friends are astonished when they hear work stories and I always point out, it's a different kind of office dynamic. And don't think HR departments protect you from these thoughts (just from having to hear them). I may work with men who are willing to say what they think more often than yours, but mine are not cavemen. So I bet, even if you never hear any of the things I do on a daily basis? A portion of them still think about it, or joke about it when you're not around. They just know better than to say it, chances are - because it isn't all men in the room. If you work with all men long enough? They just start to think of you as one of them. ...I'm okay with this. You may not be. I totally respect this position. From either angle. My angle has really taught me that anything that a man can do, I can do better.

Here is a list of possible exceptions:
1.) Peeing standing up (I have not mastered this. Hell, I haven't even tried it. I'm okay with sitting.)
2.) Run around with a shirt and be acceptable (I could probably make more friends than you would doing it though, boys.)
3.) Understand offsides even though I played soccer for years.
4.) Father a child. But I could mother one. Which makes the "anything you can do I can do better" true. 

I think that about sums it up.

***Note: Not all men are barbaric. I'm sure yours is great. I'm sure if you are a male, you never think horrible or demeaning things about women, nor have you ever made a less than tasteful joke at another person's expense. Please take this blog as nothing more than my take on my work environment and not the entire world.***

What Was Built In A Day, Then?

They say that Rome wasn't built in a day. First, prove it. Second, how is that supposed to make me feel any better?

Me: This project is taking forever.
Co-worker: Well, Rome wasn't built in a day.
Me: Great. It probably took them as long to build Rome as it is taking me to figure out this Excel spreadsheet. That makes me feel better. Sure.

Why are we comparing this to Rome, anyway? Beside the fact that I lack an abacus on my desk...It isn't as if the Romans are still thriving in a great way. I'm not aspiring to have people still discussing the fall of my report thousands of years later. Trust me, I have enough of that in modern day times.

When did this even become a common phrase to use? And how can we stop it? At one point, Ancient Rome was a bustling economic hub, I get it. But I can't fathom Odysseus throwing out "Rome wasn't built in a day..." lines when they were constructing a wooden horse.

Odysseus: You know, Epeius sure is taking his sweet time building that thing.
Athena: Come on dear, we all know Rome wasn't built in a day.

I imagine that the above dialogue never happened. However, it does make for a funny visual.

I'm pretty confident that nothing I will accomplish in this lifetime will equate to the building of Rome. Likewise, nothing will ever fall as hard in my life, either. So there's always that working in my favor.

So, the next time someone is working on something (save for building an actual city out of nothing) and you want to use the "Rome wasn't built in a day" line? Remember this. You may be correct (The jury is still out. I haven't seen the Facebook pictures to prove that it wasn't built in a day...) but it also only took one arrow to bring down Achilles.

I'm loading my bow right now. Just so you know.

I Did My Best ... Where's My Ribbon?

Try your best, that’s all we can ask. How many times did you hear this growing up? We never mean this, as humans. Ever. We want to mean it, I think. But we don’t.

When we say try your best we mean “just do it…oh and don’t screw up.” Your boss, at work, certainly doesn’t want you to LITERALLY only try your best. If your best isn’t good enough you’re bound to hear about it, or others around you will hear about it. Do your best is the cliché line we say when we don’t want to say “Really? You don’t know how to do this? Well…just try your best.” And then, as we walk away, we hope for the best.

Seriously, think about anytime you have used this phrase. Did you REALLY mean it? And why? Why is “your best” good enough? Shouldn’t we always strive to be doing better? To go above and beyond? To further ourselves and our knowledge? So would it hurt to say “Do your best. If it sucks, do it again. Or seek someone who can help you.”

You don’t pull up to the bank to deposit your check and say “Hey do your best at making sure my money gets into my account, and that you return correct change to me.” What if her best really WAS shorting you that five bucks? I’m not envisioning you pulling away from the bank with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Well, she tried,” you’d say. Not believing that for an instant.

I’ve certainly never walked into a doctor’s office and hoped they “did their best” in diagnosing what is wrong with me. If they’re just going to do their best at figuring out what is wrong with me? I’m only going to do my best at paying them. Sorry, my best today was only 5 bucks.

I challenge you to say “Hey, do your best” to little Susie when you leave your kids alone with her for a night out, next time. Yeah-freaking-right. When it comes to your kid “doing your” best at taking care of them? Never acceptable, right?

“It’s okay, payroll department, I know you did your best. Don’t worry that I didn’t get a check this week.” Can you imagine ever saying this? …I doubt it! So why on Earth do we say that to people, in any instance?

This “you did your best” attitude needs to be stopped. Don’t do YOUR best, do THE best. If your best isn’t as good as it can get? Keep working at it. Why is that so hard to say? I have no problem doing so.

And I guess, if you didn’t like this blog? Too bad. I did my best.

"Follow Your Own Path"

Some of the best advice my parents ever gave me was simply to make my own path in life. Don't follow in anyone else's footsteps, they would say. Do what makes you happy. Do what you think fits you best. Break the mold!

They have eaten their words on numerous occasions. I bet if they could take back the "Follow your own path" advice? They would.

When I went away to college my father insisted that I study computer programming. It was going to be a great career, I could utilize my brain, forge a path that many females hadn't, and still punch a clock while raking in the dough. No, really, he was sure I would be swimming in money. There were (idle) threats of "You have to or we won't help you!" (yeah right, I never believed that for an instant.) There were pleas of "Come on! You have such a big brain! Use it..." I relented and decided to make that my major. Three weeks into school I also thought adding a Latin and Philosophy major was awesome. I remember the call home to tell my father.

"What the hell are you going to do with a Latin degree? You do know there aren't Romans running around looking for translators, right?"

We then switched right into Philosophy and how ridiculous it was. "They aren't hiring people to sit atop mountains and hand out advice anymore." Too bad Craiglist wasn't around I could have told him that there were some postings on Craiglist for just such a job. And I probably wouldn't be lying. Have you seen some of that wacky stuff?

Finally we moved into the last phase of his argument. "What is a computer science and programming major going to do with Latin and Philosophy? They have nothing in common!" I merely reminded him that they told me to forge my own way, make my own path, follow my own ideas, color outside the lines. He shut up. But I'm pretty sure that was because he was trying to price out flux capacitors so he could fire up the Delorean and head back to 1981 and strike the phrase "Follow your own path" from his and my mother's mouths.


Three years later, with one year left to finish said degree I can only imagine the brain damage he incurred when I informed them I decided to give up on computer programming and study Public Relations, Advertising, and Marketing. To this day my father reminds me that I could work less hours and make more money if I'd just go back and finish that last year or so of my computer programming degree. It made me miserable, I detested the idea of it and as the end of my studies got closer I just realized I couldn't do it as a living. It was painful.

But, as I reminded him, I was just making my own path in life! I didn't hear another word about it for a few weeks. But I'm fairly sure that's because he was screaming in an octave that only dogs could hear.

Most recently, I was reminded of this great advice while driving in downtown Chicago. If any of you have done so you know that it isn't always the most stress-free thing to do. I wanted to get gas before we left. My mother and best friend said "Oh no, you are fine." As we were approaching Lake Shore Drive area, we got the Low Fuel warning. We certainly weren't going to make it home, too. I decided to veer off at the gas station closest. I was impressed that I got over two lanes and pulled right up to the most outside pump. I pulled up, rolled down my window and said "Why does this look weird?" My mother yelled "Because you are on the sidewalk!"

Oops? How many of you have seen gas pumps with only one side operational? I just figured that both sides were gas pumps. Apparently, however, people frown upon you driving on the sidewalk. As we were pulling off the sidwalk I could hear my best friend gasping for air and my mother yelling (between laughs) "Don't hit anyone!" As I pulled up and around and to an actual pump, they were both almost in tears. The ride home was a constant barrage of "Whatever, you drive on sidewalks," every time I attempted to speak. My best friend took pictures, as I was pumping gas. Apparently to humiliate me. I have no shame, however. Because as we pulled into the driveway and my mom got out (proclaiming her freedom and astonishment on arriving safely because I drive on sidewalks) I just smiled and said "Hey, you told me to make my own path."

Best. Advice. Ever.

Thanks Mom and Dad!

What exactly is IN the bush, you ask?

"One in the hand is worth two in the bush..."

I know we've all heard this. I, for one, don't know if I believe it.


I get the general concept. One sure thing is worth two unknown things. Simple, right? (This is where you'd generally hear the game show-like buzzer that indicates just how wrong you are...but this is the Internet folks, not television. This isn't a moving picture show. So deal with it).

I have some things to say about this one in the hand concept.

First off, if we're discussing birds (which you may not be, but stick with me here) which is what the actual phrase DOES discuss... I don't know if having one in your hand is that great.

For starters, they poop. This doesn't seem very sanitary to me. Why would I want a pooping bird in my hand? I'd rather let the two in the bush do their business outside and then we'll worry about getting them inside. Into a cage. Lined with paper. Certainly not my hand.

Birds have beaks. They can pinch you with them. That one in your hand gets angry (like you don't play angry birds, don't try to deny it! You know about Angry Birds) and you might just lose one of your fingers. The two in the bush probably aren't going to randomnly attack my hand. Unless it's like that movie The Birds. Let's not go there, though. Because I wake up to the sound of a woodpecker outside that I can hear but not see. So I don't even want to think about that.

Let's move away from the birds and just think of money.

I have a dollar in my hand. But I see two more sitting in the bush. Dude, I got cheated. Why wouldn't I pick up all three of them and run? And why am I running...it is, after all, just three bucks. No one is going to chase me for three dollars. And I can't even afford a Starbucks with that. Or a gallon of gas. I guess that's why I'm running, instead of driving.

Easter is coming up...

Imagine a 6 year old you, at a family Easter egg hunt. You find an egg. You run up to your mother, beaming from ear to ear about your Easter egg, holding it up, laughing. She thinks you're the greatest thing since sliced bread, so she is proud of you. While you do your victory dance (which sort of looks like the "I have to go potty" dance) your older cousin flies by you, pushing you out of the way, and throws himself at the nearest bush. When he crawls out, hands held high, an Easter egg in both, victoriously ... do you hear him calling you a "sucka" under his breath? Because, seriously, he is. Two in the bush beat one in the hand ... yet again!


Moral of the story? It isn't that simple. Two in the bush sometimes beat one in the hand. Or was the moral that birds poop? Or that you're a "sucka"? You decide.