it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: The dreaded New Year's Resolution

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: The dreaded New Year's Resolution: I like New Year's Resolutions.  I like the prospect of trying to improve something, giving up something, learning something new and havi...

The dreaded New Year's Resolution

I like New Year's Resolutions.  I like the prospect of trying to improve something, giving up something, learning something new and having an agenda for my life.  I make resolutions every single year.  And in true Type A characteristics, I write them down on a post it note where I can see them, and think about them and then cross them off.  I live to cross something off a list.

I have pretty much had the same four resolutions for the past 45 years.
1.  Lose weight.
2.  Save money.
3.  Be more patient.
4.  Try to be the best I can be every day.

Because I have finally come to accept that my wallet will never be fat and my stomach will never be skinny, I am "changing up the list" this year.

Sometimes I have a rhyming theme..."do more in 2004", "be debt free in 1983"...the list goes on.  

I have spent hours walking up and down the same beach route for the last couple months.  Mostly what I do is think and walk, think and walk.  Still obsessed with my mortal legacy, I have been obsessing and planning my resolutions for the past six weeks.  

In 1988, my resolution was to quit biting my nails and the skin around them.  You have no idea what kind of bloody stumps I had.  I had a client look me in the eye, after a presentation and tell me that my hands made him sick.  I was horrified.  Horrified.  It was time to stop snacking on my skin and my fingernails and end my membership with the Donner Party.

Besides that, I was getting married in May and I had no nails and it would more than likely take that amount of time to grow.

Anyway, the first week in January, I went to a nail salon.  This is in 1988.  There were not nail salons every fifty feet like we have now.  It was called Bloomingnails on the Carlise Pike.  I made my first appointment.  I was going to go weekly for 20 weeks.  

And I did.  I haven't bit a nail since 1988.  I still pick a hangnail every now and then (especially in sales meetings) but I have ended my nail and flesh eating habit.

But, since 1988, I have been asking myself, did I do it because I wanted to or needed to or did I stop because someone told me what I already knew?  I knew my fingers were a mess.  They were so sore and sore looking.  They bled daily.  One time my fingers were so sore my friend had to snap my ski boots for me.  But I kept on.  Until my client horrified me.  Why didn't I do it sooner?  I felt better when I quit.  It wasn't that hard.

I was going for the "take a different way home once a week", try something new, eat less sugar, no negative thoughts, send more cards, and the list kept growing for 2015.



And then, there was the moment.

Adeline and I were watching a talk show.  She was watching...I was listening and surfing Pintrest.   Pintrest is my cocaine, and I am addicted.

The talk show asked the audience one simple question, What was the last book you read?

I lifted my head.  Usually I could look over and see the book that I was in the middle of reading.  Not anymore.  I haven't read a book since I read all three 50 Shades of Grey in three days, three times in a row.  And no, it wasn't about the sex.  It was fun reading.  Great character development on the beach, that is all.  Great summer reading.

Three years ago.

I haven't read a book in three years.  And I wanted to be a librarian.

 And I was aware that I had not been reading.

What had I been doing with my time?  Not chewing my nails.  Pinning.

Pinning. 

 I have been searching for ideas for my daughter's wedding that I hope I am so old I need a walker to attend, nautical themed cupcakes, living room palettes (like i am ever letting go of yellow), fairy gardens in your herb garden or container gardens, recipes, a zillion recipes, enough recipes for every family on the planet for the next fifty years, Halloween decorations, Valentine's Decorations, birthday ideas, photo collages, what to do with left over buttons(I don't even have any), Annie Sloan painting projects, American Chalk Paint projects, how to clean paint brushes, baby shower ideas(not throwing one any time soon), wedding shower ideas (again, don't know anyone getting married), things to do with acorns, teenage girl bedroom ideas, teenage boy bedroom ideas, home office ideas, container gardens, Big Sur, California, Vermont, Switzerland, Vermont, skiing, Vermont, nurseries decorating ideas (not bearing a child again, ever), home remedies, how to make jelly and jam (something I want to learn) and pies.   This is just one night in my life, in front of the television, do doubt watching Love it or List it, or Intervention.

I have put a muzzle on my own creativity and have become a "lazy brain."  I have allowed others to think for me and I have not challenged myself.  

And then of course, I was convinced that because I do not use my brain enough, I am going to get Alzheimer's.  Of course, I had to research it to see if I have any of the symptoms.

My family will not starve.  I have tons of recipe books...and tons of recipes that  my mom and grandmother have written for me.  I will go back to the basics.

So many things happened in 2014 that I had zero control over.  So many things.  Some turned out to be positives, others not so much.  But, I had no control.  I do have control over what I chose to do with my down time.

So there you have it, I, Stephanie Gladwell, of sound mind (for now) and spirit, in the year 2015, resolve to read more, "pin" less and stimulate my mind and get my creative juices flowing again.  Notice, I didn't say "no pinning".  I said "pin less" and read more.

I already have my first book for 2015.  My husband found it for me.  It was left in some one's car.  I figure with a title like that...I cannot go wrong.  

So, here are my resolutions...
1.  Read more.
2.  Pin less.
3.  Stimulate my own creativity.
4.  Run more.
5.  Laugh as much as I can.

Happy New Year.  What ever your resolutions are...I hope you go after them with vigor and have the best of years.

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: My Charlie Brown Christmas

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: My Charlie Brown Christmas: I am not sure what it was.  Typically festive, organized and over the top Type A...I jump into every holiday, especially Christmas.  Like my...

My Charlie Brown Christmas

I am not sure what it was.  Typically festive, organized and over the top Type A...I jump into every holiday, especially Christmas.  Like my mother, who has most of hers bought and wrapped by Halloween, I am not a procrastinator.

I stress over what wrapping paper goes on what child's gifts, all wrapped in code...no tags, a code.  The gifts, cookies, the dreaded perfect Christmas card, the decorations, I take it all on with a Martha Stewart, Linda Bahneman, Pintrest spirit.

Except for this year.

I pulled the decorations out on the Thanksgiving weekend.  But then, I stopped.  I don't know what hit me, but I realized that I was simply going through the motions without any emotions.  I was robotic in my approach.  I stopped.

I mean totally stopped.  I had HUGE expectations for this holiday.  My "button" was home for the first time in four years.  Was I doing this for him?  Was I adding ridiculous pressure to everyone for the perfect holiday?  My niece was going to be here too.  She was in Europe last Christmas.  In 50 years, since he was born, I have never been apart from my brother on Christmas. 

So here it was, the beginning of the holiday season, and I have stopped.

We had taken two angels from the Angel Tree at church and I was determined that my kids were doing the shopping, not me.  So, Walker leaves for Boy Scout camp and Addie says, "I got this Walker."  I take Addie and her BFF to Toys R Us with high hopes of finding the perfect gift for a three year old boy.  I left with sadness.

Inside Toys R Us on this Friday night were parents everywhere, Santa shopping with their young kids.  Yes, you read correctly.  Tired, sleepy, cranky young kids, like 6 months to five, with their parents, crying and screaming through the store.  One mother said to her four year old son, "I know you are tired but I will be done soon.  Hang on."  Hang on?  It is nine pm lady and that kid needs to be in bed and who the hell Santa shops with their kids?  I just wanted to scream inside that store.  It has been about four years since I had been in Toys R Us and I wanted to throw up.

The Barbie isle was filled with Zombie Barbie's.  The Zombie Barbies were flying off the shelves and "Professional Barbie" was looking at me like, "Pick me, pick me."  There is every kind of Barbie in the world now.  I had a regular plain Barbie.  She bent her legs, that was it.  Skipper, same thing.  I did get a talking "Stacy', the English cousin who talked.  You pulled the string and she had six sentences all in the Kate Middleton accent.  That was it.  You turned them into who they were supposed to be.  No Zip Lining Barbie at my house.  If you wanted her to zip line, you went into my dad's tackle box, snipped some fishing line and tied it from column to column.  Furniture, thimbles for chairs, the little white thing from the pizza box as tables and Uncle Ben's Wild Rice boxes for beds with scraps of material for bed linens from my Mamaw's sewing basket.  Guess what, we didn't use an Ipad to figure all of this out.

I am totally convinced that maybe kids are smarter than I ever was, but not nearly as creative.

The section of the lovely wooden puzzles, was vacant.  Not a mom or dad standing in the isle.  I sat for hours with my kids, on the floor, putting the same wooden puzzles together, saying "duck", "cow" etc.  Every Christmas, we build a jigsaw.  As a family.  One of my favorite things I own is a jigsaw puzzle I built with my mother in law and my mom.  I even framed it.  First time ever that I framed a jogsaw.  Three women never built a jigsaw puzzle with so many obscenities.  Nobody was buying puzzles.

The hot wheels isle, empty.  The car rugs, stocked.  The little plastic car carriers, nobody bought.  No light brights, no easy bakes and no wooden kitchens.

Instead, plastic stuff, DVDs, zombies and ninjas filled the carts with parents and their kids.

I am turning into my mother.  But seriously, who Christmas shops with their kids?

Franklin and I would get a sitter, go to dinner and then see how long it took us to spend an obscene amount of money and then stop for a night cap.  It was awesome fun.  Our favorite night to celebrate being a parent.

We settled for a plastic John Deere tractor that made noise.  There were only about six little John Deere tractors in the whole store.  Broke my heart.  Only six little John Deere's on a side shelf.  Like a misfit toy.  John Deere is like a God in my family.  Six little John Deeres.

We decided to swing by the mall. There were 94 people in the Bath and Body works store all buying lotions that make you smell like peppermint bark.  Walked out.  Went back in and bought 8 bottles of soap.  Gag me.  My daughter's teacher gift idea.  Not mine.

When we got home and showed Franklin our night out, he asked, "how much fun was it?"

"None at all, OK it was fun, and the girls had fun but I am so sad."  I told him about the night and the stores and the lack of Christmas music playing and the rush and the crap and ugh, what is going on?  He laughed and said, "you are old.  You sound like your mother."

I reminded him of our Santa shopping nights, and hours of puzzle building and cookie baking and wrapping codes and the elf on the shelf and reindeer food.  I saw reindeer food for sale in the store...Seven dollars for some oatmeal and glitter.  "Remember us making that Franklin and passing out it to their classmates and what a big deal it was for our kids to make it and pass it out and then spread it on Christmas eve and then sweep it up so they knew the reindeer ate it?   It is for sale."



I took the girls the next day to make gingerbread houses.  At one point, I strolled through the store, and there sitting all alone was Santa.   I sat down and starting chatting with Santa.  Nobody was coming to chat with him, nobody sitting on his lap...he was all alone.  He told me that kids said the could talk to him on line and they didn't need to sit on his lap.  That was it, I just couldn't take it anymore.  

I stopped.  I mailed my cards but that was it.  I stopped.  I could not get my heart to move forward.

What was Christmas all about?  Where had my Christmas's gone?

Then, in a twist, my sister-in-law called to tell me they were not coming.  First time in 50 years, I would be without my brother.  Totally understood.  People had started new jobs and didn't have Friday off.  No vacation days earned or offered.  I got it.  Killed me but I got it.  Being with my brother and his family, for years,  was the source of my existence for the whole year.  No mom and dad and now no brother and his wife and kids.

Then two nights later, Charlie Brown Christmas came on television.  When I was a kid, there were three nights of the year you lived for, Wizard of Oz, Rudolph and Charlie Brown.  Your mom would get you fed, get everyone bathed and in jammies and then in front of the television before the shows began.  And, she made "real" hot chocolate with marshmallows and you were allowed to drink it out of the kitchen.  Three times a year.  The biggest nights of the year.  I call the kids down out of their caves and told them that they were going to watch this show with me.  You would have thought I was asking them to cut their fingers off in the town's square without medication.

I shared with them the story of when we were kids and they said, that is"because you lived in the olden days with three channels and no DVDs."  Correct.  And they don't know what they missed.

I continued my Charlie Brown phase and still couldn't get my act together.  And I needed to...the day was approaching.  Last day of school, teacher gifts, work, etc.  But still, nothing.

And then it happened.  I had to throw two of the kids in the car and head to the orthodontist.  My gracious nephew is the orthodontist and while his practice is in North Raleigh, it hasn't been about the teeth; it has been about the family.

In the car, my two pre teens begin to tell me that they googled "the whole Santa thing."  "There is even an You Tube video that tells parents how to explain the Santa thing to kids.They informed me that they watched the video.  Addie went to Angie's list and it "clearly says there is not a Santa."  I have NEVER been on Angie's list. Walker also said that the Elf on the Shelf was an idea invented by Hallmark because they were losing share.  Could not even believe he said that and curious to know where he heard that one, (UNCLE TODD) and so I caved.

I told the truth.  But I told them about a man in Germany, without a wife or kids who was lonely, who passed out candies into shoes.  And the danish version where the candies and treats were placed in wooden shoes.  And it became about Hope, Hope that the magic would happen again.

I told them about how I can remember going to bed on Christmas eve and how it was the longest night of the year.  Lite Brites, Easy Bake ovens and Baby Pat a Burps.  Later, it wasn't about the gifts, it was about moments.  I can still remember the morning when my mom would announce that my aunt and my mamaw and my mom were going to do the cookie baking.  Either at my aunt's house or our house.  And you know what that meant...the round Tupperware Container would be in the fridge after school with apricot cookies.  And, my mom would have tins upon tins with sugary treats stacked on the table.  The leftover jimmies from the sugar cookies would be placed downstairs on the pantry shelves and we would be allowed to use the when we played house.  Jimmies.  That was what was for dinner.

I told them about the trips to Downtown Pittsburgh to stand and look at the the store windows and to pick your food off the Reindeer menu in Kaufman's.  I always liked the Rudolph.  I told them that my mom NEVER but a tag on a gift and the day I saw the "S" on the bottom corner of a package, I knew I hit pay dirt.  I told them about going to my aunt Judy's on Christmas eve, the greatest day of the year and Christmas day at my mamaw's.  I can still hear the basement stairs creaking at we all went downstairs to eat.  I can still see my mamaw's stuffing in the same pan, and my grandfather's homemade ice cream.  He ALWAYS let me get mine first because we were ice cream lovers.  You were allowed to take one Santa gift there and we would share our gifts with our cousins.  It was the bomb.  

Christmas day, Christmas Eve Day, your Birthday, last day of school and any snow day in between were you best days of the year, in that order.

It was the bomb because we believed.  It was the bomb because my mom and dad were also relentless that is was also a birthday.  I loved the waxy candles that you lit in church with the paper bib around them while you sang Silent Night.

And I explained to them that as a parent, there are certain days that you feel like you have to "make perfect".  Christmas, birthdays, just days that you step it up so you can give   great memories too.  Those memories I have is what keeps me going for you guys.  

And we talked about HOPE.  HOPE that you have good memories.  Hope that you believe in the magic of Christmas for ever and the Hope that you keep God in your heart.  And we talked about how they stood outside and spread reindeer food and went to bed and left cookies and were certain the next day that they heard the reindeer and the even said the saw Santa using their bathroom one year.  And they too admitted that it wasn't about the gifts anymore.  They wanted the memories.  The grandparents and the Uncle Todd singing, "Chester's nuts roasting on an open fire...(everybody should have an Uncle Todd) and family.

But really, HOPE is what can keep you going.  You HOPE your friend gets well, you HOPE your son beats an addiction, you HOPE your job goes well, you HOPE people quit stop being so angry.  And I explained at the end of everyday, regardless of what kind of day you have, you will always have HOPE for a better day tomorrow.  HOPE, it is all you have.

After a quick trip to the orthodontist,  we went to visit cousin Jamie and her four children, all five and under and usually cousin Olivia too. Five kids, five and under.  A madhouse and every trip provides us with a laugh.   The kids shop for us at the Dollar Tree.  Last year I got scissors.  I look like a Scissor girl to them.  Funny thing is, I use those scissors everyday.

Anyway, I was presented with my dollar tree gift.  It was chosen because it was yellow, his favorite color and ironically mine too.  And there it was.  A dollar tree sign.  With glitter.  From a five year old.  No online shopping, no Zombies, No gluten free, no free shipping with promo code, no bank broken, no Black Friday bargain, no glitz...Just HOPE.

Hope on a stick.  Hope in your heart.  Hope at the beginning of the day.  Hope at the end of the day.  Hope, that is all you need.  Hope...it is what all of this season is really about.

Merry Christmas.