Here's the Church, Here's the Steeple.....or is it?
Every so often, the hubs and I like to take day trips. Sometimes our trips are spontaneous, but most of the time they’re planned. Hubs always drives (although I have never quite figured out if it is a macho thing or simply my driving that terrifies him), but nevertheless, he always drives. When I’m not stomping on the imaginary passenger side brake, insisting that he “get in the lane he needs to be in before the last minute” or echoing my “there’s a car in your blind spot” commentary, I gaze out the window and take in the scenery. On a recent day trip, waves of pouring rain splashed against the windshield, the car wipers swished desperately back and forth trying to clear the view and yet, the sound of individual raindrops tapping the glass in-between the steady stream of surging water seemed somewhat calming. Through the passenger window, I watched the dimpling effect of the rainfall as it pelted flooded fields. In the far distance I noticed a church steeple. There it stood, seemingly alone, yet elevated high above the trees, majestically visible through the drenching downpour. The picturesque view of the steeple resonated within my soul. The mere image of the steeple made me think of a church, but more importantly, it moved my focus to God. As I gazed in wonderment at the beauty, I began to wonder about the history of the church steeple? Why so many modern churches no longer have them? In fact, most of us would have to look at our own church to see if it even has a steeple. (Ha, made you look). Of course, me being me, I decided to research it. Most historians believe that church steeples made their way to America sometime during the eighteenth century. Architecture played an important role, and the steeple was long recognized as part of the Christian Church. Because of the architecture and design, steeples require expensive upkeep and maintenance; therefore, while steeples still exist atop older churches, the steeple has more, or less, become a thing of the past for many modern-day churches. Church steeples are symbolic. At one time, the tallest structure in an area served as a directional focal point (i.e. it’s about three blocks down from the steeple). In addition, a steeple was also a signpost, or a billboard, if you will, helping people find a church to attend. Today, we simply search the internet. Many people believe the purpose of a steeple is to direct the eyes and attention upward, toward God. Biblical passages such as, “The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe” (Proverbs 18:10) (NKJV) are often quoted in support of steeples. While I fully expected my research to find historical precedence and symbolic meaning, I admit I was taken aback when I discovered a darker interpretation of church steeples; a discovery that left me both surprised and stunned. I discovered the origin of the church steeple dates back thousands of years to Egypt, Rome and pagan worship. To my surprise, many religious scholars have cited historical documentation that the steeple represents idol worship. Again, this viewpoint also uses Scripture to state their case, “You shall not set up a sacred pillar, which the Lord your God hates.” (Deuteronomy 16:22) (NKJV). Although both perspectives are historically true, it is important to understand that research is simply a valuable tool for discovery to help reveal the unknown. Researchers often use findings to present evidence of a truth or fable; documentation to support a pro or con. Granted, I never expected the twist that would result from this research, particularly about church steeples of all things, but it did! That said, this research also proved that anyone can pluck a passage here and there, take it out of context, and make a seemingly valid argument for or against anything. For me, there was just something significant about seeing that church steeple standing seemingly alone, yet elevated high above the trees, majestically visible through the drenching downpour. Yes, the picturesque view of the steeple resonated within my soul and the mere image of that steeple wowed my very being with the shear majesty of it all. The steeple did not make me think of a building, or a man-made symbol, but God. When the view of an image can bring you to a place that completely changes your focus, makes you feel safe in the midst of a storm, and you can't help but smile at the puddled beauty that not only surrounds, but engulfs you; that is a positive thing. Bottom line, the origins of the steeple are irrelevant; it's the heart determines the focus.
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Like it or not, times have changed. I’m older, have less energy and simply do not have the desire to go anywhere. I would like to think I’m a little wiser, but the verdict is still out on that one. In fact, other than work, or the occasional dinner out, hubs and I are pretty much homebodies.
“Just trying to make it”, seems to be the universal mantra these days. Where is the wonderment of Christmas past? What happened to the season of Hope, Joy, and Peace? Maybe it’s the lingering effects of the 2019 wrath of evil plague, maybe it’s inflation, crime, or the tanking of 401k’s; maybe, just maybe, it’s a combination of everything. I do not have the answer, but I do know that dwelling on negativity forces you to live in perpetual state of fear, anger, and depression. Regardless, it’s time to break free! If you feel like you’re living in an eternal funk of sorts, STOP! Take a moment to LOOK and LISTEN. The bewilderment of the season is still alive and well, but you must want to see it. There will always be things we can’t control, can’t fix, can’t solve; but that’s life….all wrapped up in a hodgepodge of good, bad and yes, ugly. However, the magic of Christmas can still be found where you least expect it! In the dim haze emitting from a lit Christmas tree, classic holiday music playing over the car radio, the crispness of the first winter snow, the warmth of a candlelight Christmas Eve service and, of course, through the eyes of a child anticipating the arrival of Santa. The fascination of the holidays can’t be found in the thing’s money can buy, but rather in the gifts we give from within. A smile, a kind gesture, a compassionate ear and a heartfelt desire to help where we can, give more than we get and share the amazement of the Christmas story. Yes, Christmas is about unconditional love, giving our all and expecting nothing in return. That my friends, IS the wonderment of Christmas. Merry Christmas Why work in a call center? Granted, no child ever said, “When I grow up, I want to work in a call center.” Let’s face it, over the years call centers have often gotten a bad rap; therefore, what I’m about to share may just make you rethink the whole concept, or possibly even blow your’ mind!
I often wonder if call center reps ever recognize their value, worth and importance? Call center reps are the very heart and soul of the industry they serve. They are the first line of contact, set the first impression of their respective companies, and strive to resolve a myriad of issues, call after call after call. Call center reps are not “switchboard operators”, they are talented individuals, who access dozens of software programs to provide correct solutions to problems, answer in-depth questions and, on occasion, bear the brunt of an escalated caller. Call center reps work in an environment where every call is different, and they must be at the top of their game…always! In addition to computer, software, and phone skills, call center reps must also possess listening, discernment, and empathy skills. These skills are essential abilities that can be developed and enhanced, but never taught. Call center experience should never be defined on a resume as “answer inbound/outbound calls.” Working in a call center equips you with a variety of transferrable skills such as, system navigation of a variety of programs, utilizing multiple monitors, and possessing fine-tuned communication/problem-solving skills. Call center reps are held to a high standard of excellence and are expected to meet and/or exceed measurable performance goals. It’s important to highlight that the ability to provide excellent customer service is not a universal gift, but rather a combination of natural talent and trained skills. Working as a call center rep can provide the stability for a life-long career or serve as a launching pad for advancement within a specific industry. That’s the beauty of it; it’s your choice. While I agree it can be disheartening that our culture tends to deem certain professions “not as worthy as others”, please do not be discouraged. Perception is nothing more than a mindset, one that we all have the power to change. Your job, career, or profession (whatever you choose to call it), is your stepping-stone to success. Refuse to rely on accolades from others to validate your accomplishments. Success isn’t defined by the interpretation of others; success must be defined by you! Whether you currently flip burgers, drive a truck, assemble parts in a factory, or yes, even work as a call center rep, you need to smile, pat yourself on the back, and understand your value, worth and importance. When calling a company, out shopping, or going to a restaurant, please be kind. Everyone is just trying to make it in this world. Life is hard, and sometimes things happen that completely turn your world upside down. When your very being is crushed, you find yourself asking, "why", and you realize there are no real, definitive answers to that question. It is during the hardest of times you discover how resilient you are. November is Eye Donation Month and spreading awareness about Organ, Eye and Tissue donation is my passion. I would like to take a moment to share my family's story. The year was 1996. My daughter was just 3 years old when a rare virus attacked her vision. Within two months, she was completely blind in her right eye and her vision was severely compromised in her left eye. Numerous trips to doctors, emergency rooms and specialists could not diagnose the problem. We were referred to Barnes Children's Hospital in St. Louis, MO. After many tests, we were told that Sarah would need a cornea transplant. We were placed on the donor waiting list and our journey had begun. Friday, August 23, 1996, we received the call that a donor had been found. We were to be in St. Louis the following Monday for the transplant. As a mom, I was devastated to learn that my daughter would have to endure this trial; yet, thankful that her situation was not life threatening. Anxious parents filled the waiting area for news about their little ones; the effects of stress were evident. The wait seemed like an eternity and thankfully everything went great; however, I was not prepared to see my baby girl in recovery. There she was, so tiny, so fragile. She was hooked up to an IV, monitors and other equipment, her eye was covered with a patch, and her arms placed inside braces to prevent her from touching her eye. Weekly check-ups turned into bi-weekly check-ups, then monthly visits and eventually annual visits for 28 years. A typical cornea transplant lasts between 5-8 years. We were originally told that the hope was that she might be able to tell a cat from a dog. However, she has surpassed all statistics. Fast forward to the present. She graduated with her Doctorate in Music Arts (Flute) from the University of Kentucky and recently celebrated her one-year wedding anniversary. If it were not for our donor, or as we say, "Our Hero", this story would have been very different. Our donor was only 18 years old; yet he and his family demonstrated the ultimate act of love. He gave everything he had, to someone he had never met so that others might have life or an enhanced life. Because of our Hero's gift, our daughter can see! One thing is certain, his legacy of life shines through her eyes. You too can leave a legacy of Life. Simply register to be a donor today.
I was beyond excited to be traveling to Virginia to visit my son and daughter-in-love! Our first trip to Virginia and I could not wait to see my kiddos, tour the area and also check out Washington D.C. Admittedly, I was a tad bit anxious about traveling the eleven plus hour road trip with Hubs. Let me explain, I love, love, love to travel and yes, I love, love, love my hubs...well, most of the time; however, we do not make great traveling companions. I am a firm believer that most divorces could be avoided if couples traveled separately to their destinations and designated a meeting point. They say opposites attract and 36 years of marriage proves that theory; however, opposites do not travel well together. You see, our differences are quite prominent and tend to surface big time when on the road together. When it comes to money, Hubs tends to be a spendthrift, whereas I'm conservative. I don't know what it is about a road trip that makes him believe he is Diamond Jim Brady. We're not even forty-five minutes in, when he says, "I'm going to stop for coffee." Seriously, we just had coffee before we left. Granted, our driving styles are drastically different; however. I have yet to understand the reasoning of being in the opposite lane needed "until you get closer" mindset. Of course, when the exit is .05 miles on the right, we are always in the far-left lane... and wa-la, the fussing begins when "That idiot won't let me merge" and he argues with the navigation system. On the flip side of the coin, my continuous "I told you 20 minutes ago to get over", doesn't quite seem to help. Yeah....fun times. Hub's loves to pass but thinks you should pass at the speed limit (which may be the legal way, but nevertheless); me, I prefer to pass fast (if I absolutely have to) and be done with it. Hanging out side by side with a semi is just not my cup-o-tea. Hubs tends to cut the passing thing a little too close for my comfort and for some reason, he seems to become exasperated with my outbursts of "WATCH IT, THERE'S A CAR COMING!" He proceeds to respond, "STOP IT! DON'T DO THAT!" Music is another hot button topic. A musician hears the instrumentation, while a writer hears the words. He likes to listen to rock tunes from the 80's and 90's and I like country. As a side note, he doesn't quite understand my ability to know all of the words as I sing along to EVERY song. Yes, I know I can't sing well, but I like to do it anyway. When listing to the radio I prefer to scan and scan for a song I like. For some reason, this annoys Hubs to the point of screeching, "just pick a station and stick with it." Lately, he likes to play downloaded instrumental tunes from his phone. Although I can't be sure, I believe it's because I can't sing to them. On an eleven plus hour trip, there are times we did not want to listen to any music, so we decided to talk. What could go wrong? Our conversations gravitated towards work, bills, and ultimately things that needed to be done around the house .....when we get back. This conversation left Hubs grumpy. We finally arrived in Virginia, somewhat speaking to each other. Enjoyed our stay but all too soon it was time to make that return trip home. While we did make it, it was a long, long trip. Afterwards, we concluded that all future long-distance travels will be by plane; much cheaper than a divorce lawyer, I'm sure.
MINI-VAN MAMAI will always remember the 90’s as the era of the mini-van. The mini-van was much, much more than just a vehicle; it was the most sought after automobile of choice for every modern, American mom.
90's moms were independent thinkers, who could not be persuaded or affected by the advertising industry....or so we thought. We believed that our purchasing habits and decisions were solely our own, as we perfected bargain shopping and embraced the gift of haggling. 1997 was the year that I subconsciously succumbed to the hype of an advertisement, and yes, I purchased a forest green, two-sliding door, mini-van. At the time, I had no idea that this vehicle would not only change my life, it would change the way my life was viewed by others. Within a few short months, the metamorphosis had occurred. In fact, I hardly recognized myself. I had become the epitome of domesticity. How could this have happened to me? Afterall, I grew up during the seventies, chanting women's lib mantras and refusing to make coffee as part of my job description! Unbeknownst to me, behind the steering wheel of a mini-van, one reeks the word MOM. I soon discovered that a mini-van is a vehicle that is constantly traveling without ever really identifying a true destination. Throughout history, there has never been a vehicle that has stereotyped its owner quite as effectively as the mini-van. A mini-van mama could easily be described as a coupon clipping, financially challenged, laundry sorting, meal preparing female. A mini-van mama proudly displayed her accomplishments on the back window of her vehicle with stick figure decals that revealed every person in the household including the family dog and cat. Of course, honor student bumper stickers and marching band decals completed the decorative motif. It would be years later, before we realized that smashed candy inside the armrests, mud stains and small footprint indentations embedded onto the back of the seats would greatly decrease the resale value. Most mini-vans could seat seven people comfortably, but for some reason, seven never seemed to be enough seats. A mini-van mama always seemed to add passengers, not through labor and delivery, but via pick up. Mini-van mamas would travel in packs, take turns moonlighting as transportation liaisons and could often be heard yelling Last but not least, you yelled this more than once, "Don't make me pull this van over..........", from the front windows that were down. Mini-vans were truly mobile packing company, ready to roll at a moment’s notice and identified easily by the array of objects contained in the back compartment; such as, baseball bats, bicycles, strollers, diaper bags, groceries, lawn chairs, stuffed animals, blankets, snacks, books, wipes, umbrellas and so-on. To me, the most amazing transformation was the persona transfer, that continued even outside of the vehicle. A mini-van mama could typically be spotted at the area discount store, sporting a hurried look, wrinkled brow, dressed in sweat pants or jeans, no brand name tennis shoes, make-up free, have at least two children with her and always had keys in hand at the register. A typical mini-van mama could be described as follows:
Although, the popularity of the mini-van, in many cases, has since been replaced by the SUV, the fact remains that the mini-van had one other attraction that has remained quiet and to this day remains the mini-vans greatest benefit; a 16 year old would rather walk to school than drive a min-van! Then it hit me........THAT’S an advertising concept! Although my kids are now grown, I still remember how hard it was to juggle the responsibilities of being a mom, working a full time job, and trying to keep a household running smoothly. For those of you who are currently traveling this path, let me encourage and assure you that you WILL survive. Whether you are employed outside of the home or are a stay-at-home mom, being a mom is the most important position you will ever hold. Embrace it and be proud. Remember, you're never JUST a mom, you are so much more! Since Mother's Day is Sunday, I thought it might be a good time to share a mom moment of mine, otherwise known as the day I had an epiphany of sorts. It was just another ordinary day, just a casual inquiry, just a single random comment, and just one little word that simply hit me the wrong way and sent my mind swirling. The question was simple, non-confrontational and direct. Standing in the foyer of the school to pick up my kids, another mom asked, “So, what do you do?" "I work in customer service, other than that I'm just a mom.” A mutual reciprocated nod of understanding and a smile, we picked up our children and went our merry way. Later that day, that single phrase hit me like a ton of bricks! Just a mom! JUST a mom! What was the matter with me? Did I really say that! Yes, I work a fulltime job and I AM a mom. A BUSY mom, no doubt, a TIRED mom, absolutely and often a FRUSTRATED mom, definitely, but JUST a Mom....no way? Where did that come from? I mean really, is someone JUST a doctor, JUST a lawyer, JUST a nuclear scientist? Why on earth would I use the word JUST to describe my career, my destiny...my life? How dare I, or anyone else, demean the status of such a vital position? A mom’s day begins before anyone else awakes and ends long after everyone else has retired for the evening. The endless responsibilities of this lifetime role are challenging, stressful and rewarding. Breakfasts must be prepared (even cereal, after-all, someone has to get the bowls out and pour the milk), pack lunches, do the laundry (every day), ensure the kids leave the house “appropriately” dressed for school, teeth are brushed (can’t assume), hair is combed, and ensure the kiddos arrive at daycare, school or the bus...on time! Once the kids have arrived at their destination, it's time for the mom, who is employed outside of the home, to hurry and get ready for work, hoping her shoes match (who among us hasn’t arrived with two different shoes of similar styles) and double checking the seams on clothing (you know you have worn that blouse inside out before). For the Mom who is not employed outside of the home, the routine of household responsibilities must be tackled. Whether employed outside of the home or not, mom has to pick up dirty clothes left wherever they were removed. (For some reason, children and spouses seem to have difficulty seeing things on the floor. They walk over, around or even through them, but will never pick them up.) Meals, whether baked, boiled, broiled, microwaved or simmered in the crockpot must be prepared, dishes washed, carpets vacuumed, linoleum swept and we all know that pre-fabricated furniture will not dust itself. Mom's possess an innate skill of multi-tasking, which is a must when juggling homework, after-school activities, ball games and band practice. A mom may not be a doctor in real life, but definitely plays one at home. The art of scheduling can be likened to walking a tight rope when it comes to picking up a sick child at school, making doctor/dental appointments, dropping off forgotten homework and paying household bills. Mustn't forget the most important responsibility of ensuring that the last roll of toilet paper, last drop of toothpaste or all of the shampoo has not been used. This description doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of a mom's commitment, love, dedication and sacrifice. So this Mother's Day, smile! You are important! You've been entrusted with the most valuable treasure on earth, and yes, you are worth celebrating. In fact, there is JUST one simple thing to remember from this story. Regardless of a world view "employment" status, as a mom, you're on call 24/7 and never JUST a mom! A mom's work is hard, at time heartbreaking, and the pay is lousy, but when all is said and done, the rewards are unmatched. Being a mom encompasses many things, it’s just that JUST, ain’t got nothin’ to do with it! HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY60 years old, WOW! I admit I stammered a little on that number. While I really do not feel like celebrating, I am choosing to celebrate! Yes, you heard me right celebrate. Why wouldn’t I celebrate? Celebrating 60 is better than NOT celebrating 60, if you catch my meaning. It seems like only yesterday, I turned 21, so you will have to forgive me for being a bit bumfuzzled as to how this transition happened? They say that time waits for no one, but seriously….time flew by so fast that I missed my mid-life crises! Most women wouldn’t admit their age, let alone put it in writing; but hey, it is what is! Is aging pleasant? No, it’s not. Bones creak, eyesight worsens, hearing is questionable, fatigue is a state of being and worse, the sags and bags and lines…oh my! Truthfully, it takes me so long to get ready to leave the house that I’m still not quite sure if general everyday maintenance really takes that much longer or I just move that much slower. I wasn't sad about the number, but the reality check. I thought about all of my unfulfilled dreams, plans and goals. Yes, I felt sad, depressed, discouraged and down. When I was young, I had a vision of where I thought I'd be at this age; however, that vision was never realized. I wondered if I had learned anything in my 60 years? Maybe, but certainly not enough, that’s for sure. In fact, if given the opportunity, I think most people would change things if given the chance. The truth of the matter is that this kind of thinking isn’t productive., do-over's do not exist and pining away for a life that didn’t happen serves no purpose. So now what? What to do, what to do? I have come to the conclusion that I have two choices; I can either jump feet first into a world full of unexplored experiences or continue traveling down the well worn path of complacency. For those of you who know me, you know I am just not a sit in a rocking chair kind of gal, so I have made the choice to jump feet first and grasp everything life has to offer. I can only go around this world one time and there is no time for could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. These days, I find myself doing and saying things that my 20, 30 and even 40 year old self would not have said or done. I no longer worry about what other’s think, and focus on simply having fun. I find humor in corny jokes and I like to laugh....loudly. 2020 has shown me that things can change in the blink of an eye and I am learning to embrace each day and forego fear of the future. While I like to think of myself as a happy go lucky person, I tend to be a tad outspoken, who knew right? I do not have qualms about “telling it like it is”. I have no patience for rude people, folks pretending that they are "all that and a bag of chips", or arguing for the sake of arguing. I’ve accepted that aging is simply a part of life and I can either embrace it or mourn it, but I still have to live it. I'm taking a fresh look at the world around me. I plan to dance in the rain and chase rainbows. It might just wind up on Facebook Live. Where will this season take me? Who knows? I’m wide eyed, jumping in with both feet and, in Mama T style, I'm taking on every adventure with enthusiasm, a touch of carefree whim and, of course, a bit of sarcasm. Today arrived like any other day, without fanfare or excitement, just the busyness of what has become my existence. However, one thing is certain, this 60 thing is just getting started, so you can either join the party or get out of the way, because this mama is on the move!
Originally posted June 2016 Life, or at least my life, seems to combine a very strange mix of humor, sarcasm and irony. When life would hurl obstacles my way, I much preferred to duck and hide my head under a makeshift cover, rather than confront it. Although life has thrown me more curveballs than I care to count; there are no do-overs and you can only go around this world one time! Therefore, while I may not have any control over present circumstances, I do have control about how I choose to navigate around them. At 50, my life is changing and changing fast! Giving up the business I loved and developed from start to finish is hard, very hard. For the last six years, I have put my entire life on hold. Endless hours, exhaustion, stress and financial strain combined with constant work and worry about ensuring that I provided the best work I could produce for my clients and the community have taken it's toll and yes, opened my eyes. During this journey, I made many, many great friends that I will always treasure, and sadly yes, I did make a few enemies or shall we say frienemys. Either way, rest assured, what goes around comes around and I am confident that eventually they will meet my pal, Karma. You see, Karma has my back and I have no doubt there will be some future fun things to write about on that front. First on the list-Employment Employment, now there's a concept. Before undertaking the challenge of starting my own business, I never appreciated working for someone else. Now my mind swirls with the reality of so many simple pleasures:
Well, you get the picture. I've been asked, "Why does this excite you so much?" It really is quite simple, self employment means doing without many of the basic things most people take for granted. Groceries, clothes shopping, and yes, even splurging on a new package of underwear on occasion. "Did Mama really go there?" Yes, I did. Second - My New Do I have always preferred to be in the background rather than right out in front. The only exception to this would be when I am in a public speaking arena and as long as I can stand/hide behind a podium, I am happy. Rarely do I post pictures of myself and I have never been a fan of the selfie world. The part of me that tends to worry about mean comments or derogatory remarks must now fade into the background. My new adventure shouted that a new do was in order, and so be it! I am nothing, if not flexible. With a new bold color and hair extensions, I questioned, "What am I doing, everyone will believe that I am going through a mid-life crisis?" So what, who cares what anyone thinks? Bring on the new do...It's time! Third - New Me When I say New Me, I guess what I'm really saying is Real Me! That's it in a nutshell, it is what this blog is about. Life, real life. The roads I've traveled are not uncommon; most of us have traveled similar roads. For those who haven't, well...as we say in the mid-west, "Bless your little pea-picken heart". The world we live in today is rough, the political climate is ridiculous and our compassion for fellow human beings has diminished into a free for all. I am a firm believer that laughter can lighten even the heaviest load and since life itself provides the perfect stage for a whole host of humorous adventures, I eagerly take one giant step forward and refuse to look back. I am Mama Tatuley and, for those who may not have met the Real Me, brace yourself; I plan to tell it like it is. So, sit back, relax and we'll journey together.
Love is in the air, romance abounds, restaurants are booked and vintage love songs fill the air on my favorite radio station; no doubt about it, Valentines Day is near!
As I sit, at yet another stop light, singing at the top of my lungs to the sappy '70 and '80 love songs blaring through the speakers, I can't help but laugh at the undeniable looks of judgement and smirks of condemnation from fellow highway motorists. I'm not quite sure if their obvious disgust for my behavior stems from the fact that I'm not "acting my age" or rather, they are simply allergic to "morning" people. You see, I am very aware of the stark differences between "morning" people and well, people who are NOT "morning" people! Case in point! After 30+ years of marriage, one would think that many of our differences would have merged to form a somewhat meet in the middle, marital evolution, if you will.....NOT even close! Hubby is definitely NOT a morning person. He would much prefer to stay up late and sleep half of the day; whereas, I am quite content calling it an early night and up before dawn. I have to ask, what's up with "non-morning" people anyway? Seriously, why do you have to have a good 45 minutes alone with your coffee before someone can say "good morning" to you? 30+ years ago, I had no idea that saying "I do" and pledging to "love until death do us part" meant that I was embarking on a lifelong learning curve! Before the end of the reception, the dynamics of my little world and routine changed. I would soon realize that learning to live with a "non-morning" personality was simply one of many idiosyncrasies that would surface ! Like all young couples, we faced and endured many challenges, from children and jobs to finances and schedules. Over the years, I have discovered that there is something to be said for the solace found in a relationship that is comfortable, but remains fun! Relationships weather life's storms, trials come and go and disagreements or, dare I say, arguments happen. LOVE is constant, while LIKE, on the other hand, is subjective and depends on the day. Oh, c'mon, you know it's true. Ah, but I digress. The subject is Valentines Day. A day set aside each year dedicated to celebrating love. I'm not sure when or how it happened, but somewhere along the way, commercialism crept into our expectations and inflicted a steroid induced guilt trip if one failed to shower their love with flowers, candy and/or gifts of shiny baubles. It seems that one must proclaim to the world their undying love and affection for all to see. As a side note, it is important to remember that true love rarely depicts the romance glamorized in greeting cards. Yes, I'm a romantic, but I am also realistic. Here are just a few things I've learned over the years:
When there's a Spouse in your House, everyday is an adventure of sorts, so move forward, jump over (or crawl under) life's hurdles and quit agonizing over reality. The aging journey takes it's toll. Accept the fact that knees creak, bifocals are necessary and uttering groans probably means you're just trying to get up off the couch. This year, preserve the budget and celebrate Valentine's Day the right way...with pizza delivery, a box of chocolates, cuddle on the couch and enjoy a classic movie....or two, if you can stay awake! What? You have never heard the story of the Bread Family Christmas? Oh my, then it’s time to grab a cup of hot cocoa, sit back and listen close while I share with you one of the most delicious stories never told. Our little story began a very long time ago. Although very little is known about the origin of the Bread family, their ancestry can be traced all the way back to the days of Moses and the leavened lineage of the Manna’s. Christmas Eve, 1970, the wind was howling, snow was falling and it was a very, very cold. Hustle and bustle was the theme as Corn & ginger bread were busily preparing for the annual Bread Family Christmas celebration. Their holiday guests would soon arrive, and as always, there was too much to do and not enough time to get it done. The Bread’s were blessed with six little muffins, each one embracing unique, individual personalities:
For the little muffins, excitement was in the air. they were anxiously awaiting the arrival of well… you know who? However, the year had been tough for Corn Bread and he didn't share the same enthusiasm. Corn Bread was stressed and worried because the troubled economy was taking a toll and making raisin six little muffins difficult. Day after day, Cornbread would roll to the factory because HIS FAMILY kneaded the dough. Suffice it to say that times were tough for the bread family. They were cutting back and tightening their belts (or at least trying too). Nevertheless, this time of year was for celebrating and Breads have been and always will be resilient. Corn Bread knew that this too, shall pass. Now through it all, Ginger Bread never seemed overly concerned. She went about her sweet way, smiling through the worst of times. Inside the little canister they called a house, Ginger Bread always made everyone feel a little bit better. She could always transform a bad day into a good one. Ginger made sure that the little muffins got a quick nap earlier that day, so they would be wide awake for the evening festivities. After a couple of hours, Ginger sang, “rise and shine”. Waking up was a little difficult for the little muffins as they seemed to be stuck in the warmth of their surroundings, but WITH a little bit of careful nudging, they were ready to greet everyone. Time was passing fast and soon their company would be arriving, including the "In-Loaves". The “in loaves” added to Corn Bread's stress. Their rye sense of humor was never received well, and most of the time they ended up behaving like heels. As customary, Breads from all over the country would soon be arriving from yeast to west and everywhere in-between. Aunt Éclair traveled all the way from France and Cousin Pita from Greece; ironically they were the first to arrive. Uncle Crumpet wasn't far behind. Uncle Crumpet always made Ginger Bread a little nervous because sometimes he would arrive a little half baked. All worries disappeared once everyone arrived and Corn and Ginger’s house was filled with love as they all gathered around the oven anticipating the event of the year. Anticipation was rising as the clock ticked ever so slowly. You might even say that the little muffins were almost crumbling with excitement! When suddenly.......a loud POP was heard outside the little house. The Bread's grew silent; they knew it was time! The moment they had been waiting for....... There he was, easily identifiable by his characteristic hat, shirt and no pants ensemble. Yes, it was the famous Dough Boy himself, delivering goodies, fresh from the oven. His Giggles were endless, while he finished his work, yet he spoke not a word, then grinned with a smirk. Soon out the door, on to the next oven, to bring happiness to other bread muffins. but they heard him exclaim as he soared out of sight ....Happy Baking to all and to all a good night! Can you believe it, Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away! Family and friends will soon gather to share stories, reminisce about "the good 'ol days" and, of course, feast. Before the dishes are done and leftovers put away, thoughts of Black Friday intrude on the days festivities. It's time to scour through the ads, double check door buster times and make out the list. With the popularity of online shopping, the dynamics have changed. No doubt about it, online shopping has made Black Friday shopping easier, cost effective and certainly much healthier with less pushing, shoving and out right fighting. Before the days of online shopping, my Black Friday shopping skills were birthed and honed during the late 80's and early 90' when my children were young and their wants were not. "Mom, it's the ONLY thing I want for Christmas!" This seasonal mantra typically began shortly after Halloween and continued through Christmas Eve. The "more than anything", die-hard requests always seemed to be attached to the most elusive, hard to find toy of choice on the market. To this day, I can still recall the echo of desperation in the tiny voices of my children. I dreaded and despised the non-stop, commercial driven antics of the toy industry. Hot item lists and anticipated shortages plagued my very existence. How could I let my kids down? There could be no exceptions or mishaps, Santa HAD to deliver! Mindful of my limited budget and armed with determination, Black Friday became my ultimate challenge. Let's just say that my perceived mom badge was at stake and I had to emerge victorious. Admittedly, my first Black Friday escapade was a colossal failure. As a newbie, I learned very quickly that Black Friday shopping was not an exercise for the amateur or an adventure for the fainthearted. Black Friday shopping success depended upon strategy, expertise and a fierce desire to beat the competition. I knew I had to train and be in shopping shape for the next year and thus my Black Friday tradition began. As soon as Thanksgiving festivities would end, my Mad Woman on a Mission personality would surface. As a Black Friday shopping guru, my strategy began by gathering sale ads, mapping out Early Bird Specials/Door Busters, making a detailed list of which sales were at what stores, set out my clothes and went to bed early. The specials were very limited and I had to be first or second in line if I were to have a chance at getting the "must have", "hard to get" item. This meant that I would be in line somewhere between 12 and 1 a.m. Thinking back, I have to laugh remembering how easy it was to distinguish between Black Friday professionals and first timers. First timers just didn't seem to understand the consequences of drinking too much coffee or the hassle of returning lawn chairs to the car. Suffice it to say, depending on the crowd, getting out of line wasn't always respected. First time, Black Friday shoppers would show up unprepared and would experience a Black Friday boot camp of sorts. It is impossible to accurately describe the brutality that could sometimes accompany Black Friday shopping. Once the doors opened, rules disappeared and shoppers that, just moments earlier, appeared to be jolly and friendly, mysteriously transformed into raging mobs brandishing fisticuffs, pushing and showing displays of ruthless hostility. Over the years, I became very skilled at Black Friday shopping and my BFF and I incorporated team shopping into our ritual. Team shopping made it even easier to secure more of our "must get items". Those days are in the past. The era of Cabbage Patch Dolls, Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, Tickle Me Elmo, Power Puff Girls, Nintendo, PlayStation, Fur Real Cat, and Furbie are gone, but the memories remain. Black Friday shopping became a quest I conquered and now, for me, it's over! Like I stated earlier, times have changed. I still love Black Friday shopping, but now-a-days, I enjoy it more from the comfort of my computer. In the interest of full disclosure, I'm not saying that I will never again (never say never) suit up to tackle the crowds and experience the rush of adrenaline while zigging and zagging my way through the frenzy of sale chaos. It is impossible for me to know whether or not nostalgia will once again release my Mad Woman on a Mission personality; however, one thing is certain....should that day arrive, I highly suggest that you move on or move over!
Sounds of youthful yelling, laughing and running around the neighborhood have ceased, traffic is buzzing and social media is eerily silent during the day. This can only mean one thing …. a new school year is in session! Social media popularity has taken First Day of School photo rituals to a whole new level. Viewing all of the pictures, I can’t help but feel a bit nostalgic reminiscing about my own kids’ and their “first day of school moments”. Sitting here at my computer (yes, a real computer, not a phone), thousands of memories flood my mind and appear as a time warp of sorts, somewhere between yesterday and eternity. Some of the things I miss:
And yes, there things I do NOT miss:
As a card carrying member of the Empty Nest Club, I want to remind young parents of a few things:
Save and/or print your photos. In the event your favorite social media site disappears, a computer virus wipes your files or your handy dandy smart phone dies, your photos, along with your memories, will be gone...FOREVER!
Last but not least, always use caution when posting pictures on any social media site! Social media is a great way to share your photos, but it isn't private! Wishing all of you and your children a safe, happy and productive Back to School day! Labor Day, for the expectant mom, is the truest definition of hard labor Family planning is particularly popular among many young couples intent on making their mark on the world, starting careers and having their proverbial baby ducks in a row BEFORE starting a family; however, whether “trying” or proclaiming “whoops”, recognize it's the same boat, so sit back and hang on tight because the next nine months will be a bit bumpy. You heard me, lift your head from your porcelain paradise! Initially, the giddy excitement of knowing that you are the vessel that carries another life is overwhelming. The desire to learn everything about this nine-month journey is exceptionally strong, and soon-to-be moms endeavor to read every book and article written about this expedition. Detailed explanations are sought about mood swings, delivery and everything in-between. Excitement abounds for first time, soon to be moms; not-so-much for moms who are expecting their second, or third bundle of joy. As a new mom, I was totally unprepared for the responsibility I was about to accept. In retrospect, I am certain I would have benefited from a guideline to follow; thus the reason for the following list. EAT OUT….OFTEN Daily if possible! For the next four to seven years, it will be necessary to tote a bag full of items everywhere you go. This bag will contain a variety of items (bottles, pacifiers, diapers, baby oil, baby lotion, wet wipes, toys, coloring books, rattles, baby nose aspirator and so on) based on the child’s age. Also keep in mind that it will be a long time before you will be able to enjoy a dinner out without saying the following statements:
SLEEP IN Never set an alarm clock. This will be the last time you get to sleep all night for……well, I’m not sure, I’m still waiting. CLEANING Not necessary, might as well let it go. It’s time to begin getting used to your new motif anyway. ROMANCE Seriously….get over it. Living in your new baby world, you will soon discover that romance is not even listed in the top ten as “I Love You is quickly replaced by “Hey, You Awake? WHILE WAITING FOR LABOR DAY
LABOR DAY ARRIVES It will seem like an eternity awaiting the arrival of your bundle of joy. Soon you'll attend birthing classes that will make labor sound bearable. (It's a lie!) The phrase, “you will feel discomfort” had to have been written by a man. Discomfort, DISCOMFORT; try anguish, torment, agony or torture, but DISCOMFORT my #?#@#! Natural childbirth is popular until experienced. Think about it, were you using natural birth control (if so, how'd that work out for you?) My advice, for what it's worth, is to begin asking for drugs before you really even need them to ensure that you avoid being told, “I’m sorry, it’s too late.” Last but not least, recognize that your spouse has absolutely no clue what to do, what is happening or what to say. He will make totally insensitive comments, so brace yourself. Hubby: Do you want to watch TV to take your mind off things? Me: Do you want to retain the shape of a TV? Hubby: Just breathe. Me: Great advice Einstein, the one thing I didn’t have to think about. Hubby: Focus. Me: I am focusing, on the PAIN! Hubby: It’s almost over. Me: Yea, right, that’s what you said 6 hours ago! Hubby: I love you. Me: Yea, yea, like that’ll ever work again. Hubby: I see the head. Me: Well, Hot Diggity Dog Hubby: Push Me: You’ll think push when I push you out of this fourth floor window Hubby: The doctor is on his way Me: Here or does he have another golf game? Hubby: Do you want some crushed ice? Me: Yea, stick a block under my fist and I’ll crush it! When everything is said and done, you will have experienced the ultimate human achievement and will take home with you a beautiful, dependent little life that has absolutely no regard for your fatigue, hunger or emotional state. Ironically, if you are a successful parent, this beautiful, dependent little life will grow into a teenager that has absolutely no regard for your fatigue, hunger or emotional state. Happy Labor Day!
I asked my Facebook friends to add a line for a would-be Halloween story. My friends did not make this easy...this is the end result.What a difference a year makes! This time last year, I was faced with two very real choices: Allow depression and the would’ve, should’ve, could’ve scenario to devour me, or pick myself up, dust myself off (no this is not a song intro) and reinvent myself; I chose the latter. Last year, I started my blog. As I saw it, mamatatuley.com was more of an affordable therapy method, than an adventure. Mama Tatuley (my persona) was a place where I could express my views and thoughts without worrying about being “politically correct” or frankly, giving a rat’s patootie about whether anyone read it or not. My first post titled, NEW LIFE, NEW DO, NEW ME set the stage. Life, or at least my life, seems to possess a very strange mix of humor, sarcasm and irony. I used to have a tendency to duck and hide when life would hurl obstacles my way; much preferring to cover my head under a makeshift cover than address it or retaliate. Giving up the business I loved was more than hard, it was devastating. For a long time, I was angry, very angry; but eventually, I came to terms with reality. Now, one year later, I find reflection to be a good thing. My entrepreneurial experience was valuable, and yet I am glad it’s over! I am excited by the opportunities that lie ahead. You see, my reason for going into business in the first place was to use my writing and speaking skills to make a living; unfortunately, my creativity suffered and virtually disappeared in the haze of my “so-called business”. Here I am, one year later, with another birthday biting at my heels. I am working a regular “day gig” and I have to admit, a steady paycheck, insurance and paid sick/vacation days are nice; however, I still find myself missing the “real” me….my calling…my destiny….my desire. For those of you who have followed my blog and social media pages, you know that I am once again dipping my toe into the proverbial creativity realm. This time, not as a means to make a living, (I plan on keeping my “day gig”), but as a creative outlet to speak and write about anything and everything that I love. Yes, I have to be selective about the engagements I agree to accept, and yes I’m grateful for that luxury. What began as a blog is now a full-fledged website and, just like my writing, I'm sure I will continue to change and update it as I go along. I finally recognize and appreciate that aging is not necessarily a bad thing. What can I say, my best material comes from a lifetime of experiences…and, of course, my family. From humor and motivation to instruction and Spirituality, my life's journey has written the script. Cheers to another year of adventure!
Dedicated to all of my co-workers (past and present) 'Twas the night before Christmas, no person in sight Not one phone was ringing, we're closed for the night Headphones were silent, computers shut down Not even a guard was walking around Call Center agents were snug in their beds While visions of passwords danced in their heads And me in my robe, watching the news Just sat in my chair and started to snooze When out on the lawn, I heard voices singing But the tune, well it sounded like a bunch of phones ringing Out the window I looked and saw the whole crew They're at my doorstep, now what'll I do Now seniors and agents, and admins and supers On corporate, on branches, don't be party-poopers They sang songs of fun, and they were quite merry Relax and sleep in, no reason to hurry As bit coin investments excite before a financial whim high And get rich quick hopefuls make haste for the buy So onto the websites the faster they flew To purchase new money, who knew, who knew? And then in a twinkling, some ice hit the door Scared me to death, made me fall on the floor No crew at my house, it was all just a dream How silly to dream I was seeing my team They wore ugly sweaters and sang out of tune Should've guessed just a dream and would wake up real soon They laughed and they joked and they walked right on in And one seemed quite tipsy, could tell by the grin The eyes were quite glassy, the balance not right The cheeks were bright red, and wanted to fight The others were jolly and spread quite the cheer They were all anxious to bring in the year My dream was sure funny, I laughed till I cried Not sure if I wanted to just run and hide In no time at all, this day would be gone And we'd all be back, answering our phone They turned right around and walked out the door
Everything is as it just was before But I heard them proclaim as they drifted away Merry Christmas to all and have a nice day! |
AuthorSpeaker, Writer, Dreamer, Story Teller and yes, All Around Clown |