Get My Motor Runnin’

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It’s time to disconnect from my teacher persona for a time. I’m setting Mrs. Arends, the uber-planner and ultra-type-A educator, aside for a time so that I can reconnect with Lisa, the adventurous, may-be-afraid-but-will-do-it-anyway, side of myself.

And the summer of disconnection and reconnection starts tomorrow morning, when I fly to meet a childhood friend (that I haven’t seen since childhood) in her home state. I’m going to start my adventure by testing out roller derby, a passion of my friend’s and a curiosity of mine. After a (hopefully good!) night’s sleep, we will then be taking a week-long road trip to explore Southeastern Canada and the Northeastern U.S.

The planning is done. The packing is almost complete. And then it will be time to get my motor runnin’, head out on the highway and find some adventure.

Here’s to old friends, new journeys and the life-affirming thrill of adventure!

The Perks and Problems of Being an Only Child

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I just saw a former student from a few years back.

“How are you?” I inquired, looking at the almost-adult in front of me.

“Great,” she replied, “I just got my license today!”

“Awesome! That’s got to be a little freaky to have your first day driving on such a stormy day.”

“That’s why I brought my [younger] brother with me. That way, if I got into a wreck, I wouldn’t be alone.”

 

I am an only child. It’s a status that never gave me much thought as a child and when it was worthy of consideration, my attitude was generally one of gratitude as I encountered my friends’ obnoxious younger siblings. I was also a deliberate only child, raised by parents who were well-versed in the stereotypes and generalizations of solo offspring.

So it came as somewhat of a surprise to me the other day when I realized an undeniable adverse impact that being an only child had on me. But before I get to the downsides of being siblingless, let me begin with the positives. Because there is a LOT to be grateful for.

Only children…

Are comfortable with adults. In larger families, there is a divide between the children and the adults. They occupy two separate spheres. As the only child, my world intersected the adult arena more often and, as a result, I grew comfortable talking to and interacting with adults. As a teacher, this is often the first clue I have about the size of my student’s families.

Learn to be assertive. I didn’t have a sibling to look out for me on the schoolyard or to help me navigate uncomfortable situations. I had to learn to do it myself (I didn’t find it an easy lesson). I had to reach out to have friends accompany me since I had no built-in peer group. Only children have to learn to speak for themselves.

Have a flexible view of family. Without siblings, children have a tendency to find and build familial relationships with others. Family is defined by the relationships formed between the people rather than the mandates of the DNA. This is a lesson that has served me well in adulthood as my tribe has morphed over time and location.

Independence. Without an older one to pave the way or a younger one to assume the blame, only children have to learn to stand on their own and take responsibility for their actions. I learned how to take care of myself, entertain myself and go out by myself. All good skills to have as an adult.

Of course, there were downsides too. As Brock and I watched two brothers tussle on screen in a series we’re watching, he mentioned how he and his siblings used to do similar all the time. And it suddenly clicked.

Only children…

Don’t learn how to fight. And not just physically, as in the case on the show, but verbally as well. Most siblings are constantly battling for attention and resources. They antagonize each other and engage in frequent arguments and altercations. And unlike with a friend that you can discard, you have to return home to your sibling so navigating the discord is essential. Sibling squabbles teach kids that disagreements are natural and that you can love one another even when you’re fighting.

Have nobody to verify their experience. Only children do not have somebody else to talk to about their experiences with their parents. I was lucky, I only had the normal childhood parental gripes. But for those with parents who are toxic, abusive or narcissistic, the lack of a sounding board can be devastating and extremely isolating.

Limited lessons in learning to compromise and share. Yeah, kindergarten did a good job here, but it was still limited. After all, my room and my things at home were still my domain with nobody to challenge that status. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons I became a teacher – it’s MY room! 🙂

Don’t have as much struggle for individuation. It’s always interesting to me how siblings assume family labels from a young age – “the athletic one,” “the smart one,” “the smart aleck one.” The kids have to find and fight for their individual identity from the beginning. And if they attend the same schools, it’s a struggle that follows them their entire childhood. As an only child, I never had to try to set myself apart from anyone.

I’m grateful for the recent ah-ha moment in my difficulty with interpersonal conflict and disagreement. It’s one of those areas where simply having an awareness pays dividends.

And as for Tiger, my current only canine child, we’re planning on getting him a sibling this fall in the hopes that he can pass on some of his awesomeness to the next doggy generation.

 

 

5 Things You Don’t Understand About Divorce Until You’ve Lived Through It

Posted on by stilllearning2b

You think you know, but you have no idea. This is really one of those situations were you had to have been there. Here are five things you only learn about divorce once you’ve lived through it? Do you have any to add?

After Divorce: The Rule of Three

Posted on by stilllearning2b
after divorce

The period after divorce is chaotic as demands fight for attention and everything seems to require a decision and an action. It’s overwhelming with its ability to impact every single facet of your life. And it’s confusing as you struggle to make the right decisions when your emotions are smothering your abilities to think rationally.

So here’s something simple. Straightforward. And yet still helpful.

I call it the rule of three.

Rule 1 – Find Something to Release

In the last few years of my first marriage, I made extra money tutoring. I spent up to 15 hours a week teaching math after my day job of teaching math. Accepting the jobs had become habit. And then the marriage ended suddenly and I had to cancel the tutoring jobs that I had while I worked to find my equilibrium.

In those weeks, I realized that tutoring was something that I no longer wanted to do. In addition to becoming a habit, it had become a burden. A drain on my energy and attitude. And so I let it go. And I immediately felt a little better.

Divorce is an opportunity to examine what is in your life and to discard that which no longer serves you. Find one thing that you’re doing out of habit, out of concern for how others see you or because you feel like you “should” do it. And then release it.

Rule 2 – Find Something to Reintroduce

My ex hated the smell of pancake syrup and bubble gum. And so out of respect for him, I eliminated these foods (okay, food-like compounds) from my diet.

After he left, I found that frozen waffles were one of the few foods that I could choke down. With plenty of syrup, of course. And I enthusiastically chewed the pinkest, fruitiest bubble gum within the confines of the car.

Identify something that you have let go of or allowed to slide from your life that you used to enjoy. What have you eliminated because of time, responsibilities or because of your ex? Find it and then reintroduce it.

Rule 3 – Find Something New to Try

I have always been a doer. I struggle with slowing down and simply being. A few months after my marriage ended, I decided to challenge the view I had of myself and I booked a three night meditation and yoga retreat. To add to the test, I left all of my books – my preferred method of escape – behind.

It was a difficult few days, but it was also a transformative and incredibly powerful experience. I met a fear head-on, shook its hand and discovered that it wasn’t so bad after all.

Reflect on those things that you have told yourself that you “can’t do” or “won’t do.” And then pick one and try it.

 

So that’s it, the rule of three –

One to free in order to create space,

One to bring back to help you reconnect to self

And one to investigate to teach you to be curious rather than afraid.

 

When Was the Last Time You Did Something That Scares You?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“Try it, maybe you’ll like it,” a parental figure probably pronounced to you at the dinner table some time during your youth.

Your young brain, fueled by the anticipation of disgust, immediately kicked up reasons to avoid the offending food.

Maybe you claimed to have tried it and disliked it. Perhaps you asserted that it is similar to something else you dislike and so, by extension, you obviously wouldn’t have liked that either. Regardless, the internal narrative is woven around the idea that you do not like that food.

Some parents refuse to back down and a battle of wills ensues, a parent’s conviction butting up against a child’s expectations. The longer the battle continues, the firmer the conviction becomes. And even if the parent wins at the dinner table, the expectations of disgust usually make the assumed aversion a reality (at least as far as the child is willing to admit!).

And the chosen narrative is reinforced.

Other caregivers step back, refraining from pushing their child. The more timid children are content to stay within their comfort zones. To stay safely tucked within their beliefs. They enter adulthood having never truly tried that particular food, yet firm in their conviction that it is not for them.

The chosen narrative is reinforced.

Other youngsters are more adventurous and eventually volunteer to try the previously offered food at some point. Perhaps, upon the sampling, they decide that they don’t like the selection. But this time, it’s based on experience rather than expectations. And strangely, even though they don’t prefer the item, it has lost it’s power. It no longer requires so much energy to avoid.

The narrative has been adjusted.

And sometimes, the tentative taste results in a surprise appreciation and what was once avoided now becomes sought after or at least tolerated. The once-enemy has been reduced to simply another item on the menu.

And the narrative has been adjusted.

_____

As adults, we rarely react so strongly to strongly to offered foods and hopefully we avoid power struggles about what we choose to eat. But we still react in this same childish way when it comes to those things that we fear.

Think of the amount of emotional and physical energy you have expended over your lifetime simply to avoid what scares you. Consider the excuses your brain kicks up about why that is something that you “can’t” do. Reflect on how your fear has become woven into the tapestry of your being, becoming part of how you see yourself.

The only way to change the narrative surrounding your fears is to face them. Perhaps you find that it really is something that continues to cause you undo distress or maybe, just maybe, you discover that it really isn’t that big of a deal after all. But regardless, once it is faced, it loses the power that avoidance gives it because our imaginations almost always make the anticipation worse that the actuality.

 

So, when was the last time you did something that scares you?

When was the last time you refused to expend your energy on avoidance and instead decided to invest it in achievement?

When was the last time you challenged your assumptions about yourself and allowed for an opportunity to refine your internal narrative?

Just try it. Maybe you’ll like it.