Valuable Lessons - Christmas Expectations

Yes, I am here to challenge your perspective. Welcome to the show, I'm here all week... or lifetime, whichever is longer. Please leave your expectations at the door as new ideas are much more easily absorbed without them.

Just finished a debate with a coworker about managing children's Christmas expectations. He was telling me that they didn't know how they were going to handle their daughters meltdown since she will not have a large Christmas this year. I asked him if she was aware that his car just broke down and that sometimes money goes towards the good of the family and not the wants of ONE individual.

He said that I was crushing my sons childhood expectations early by not providing a big Christmas for him at 4 years old.

I asked, "What expectations? He's four, and if he begins NOW knowing that Christmas is NOT about presents, then that sets the tone for the years to come. He already knows that in order for Santa to bring him more gifts, he has to give other children the gift of donating the toys he doesnt play with anymore. Christmas is NOT about presents, it's about PRESENCE. It's about family and love and being with one another."

He looked at me like I had three heads and I stated that I am beginning my son early on a road of self-awareness and kindness towards others, not expectations of the world to just hand him whatever he wants, "As an adult, that's not how it works. We dont just go out in the world and expect everything to be handed to us." How the world treats us is a reflection on how we treat the world. If you go out there and demand and throw tantrums, no one is going to treat you well... and if they do out of fear of your tantrums and demands, well then eventually someone like me will cross your path and set you straight... and that's never fun as an adult.

Teach them valuable lessons early and then you don't have to correct behaviors once they've set in. I am not going to do the easy thing and satiate him with gifts and TV time. Thats not what being a parent is about. Is this the easiest way to spend your days with a young child? No, but which is more effective? Redirecting a 4-year-old, or a teenager who thinks they know everything?

My son will not be raised to be a victim of the world, but instead to mold his world based on his actions and reactions.

Failure to conform

I feel too fucking old
And I'm too fucking independent
I like who I am
...I sometimes wish everyone else did too

Breathe it in

She lay in the field, watching the clouds passing in the sky. The weather had finally warmed enough that she was able to wear her favorite red sundress, and her skin welcomed the suns rays. The breeze blew quietly through the tall grasses, rustling them softly and sending the dandelion seeds dancing across the sky. She was happy to finally have some time to breathe. Her life had been crazy the last few weeks and she had wanted nothing more than an afternoon by herself to do just this, to lie in a field and inhale the warmth of the late spring. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. There was no scent she loved more than that of warm grass in the late afternoon hours. No scent she loved more, other than the scent of his skin.

She could remember lying in this same field with him, pressing her lips to his sun-kissed skin, sipping on her favorite wine. The thought made her smile. They meant so much to one another, but circumstances always kept them apart. They had agreed long ago that they would cherish the moments they had together and respect the paths that they walked separately.

Thinking of him, her hand immediately went to the charm she wore on a silver chain that he had given her one summer. It was a teardrop, a tiny silver teardrop charm that puzzled her. She could never figure out why he had sent it to her. Yes, it was sad when they parted ways, but they always knew they'd see one another again. So when it showed up on her doorstep, she spent hours trying to figure out why he had sent her such a beautiful, fragile looking charm… at least, she had assumed it was he that sent it. There was no other man who would have sent her an anonymous gift.

As she held the little metal charm, she took another deep breath, with the hope of releasing a little more of her tension from the past weeks. Her eyes shot open, sensing something else on the wind, something familiar, something happy. She sat up, scanning the horizon. Could it be? Was he back? Her heart raced a little knowing that her intuition never failed, her eyes searching for that familiar form, that familiar walk.

“Lookin’ for something?” she heard from behind her.

She swung her head around, flipping her hair against the breeze. There he was, sitting under their tree, not 15 feet from her. All she could do was stare; he was just so beautiful. His shirt slightly unbuttoned, she could see his chest at he got up and walked over to her. Her heart skipped a little beat at he sat down beside her, leaning in to whisper something. He tucked her hair behind her ear and moved in so close that she could feel his breath. “I’ve missed you.” He pulled back, staring into her eyes, and smiled at her. She still had no words. Nothing that crossed into her conscious seemed relevant in this moment. He ran his fingers through her hair and she closed her eyes, reveling in the moment. He kissed her left cheek, then her right, and then kissed both of her eyelids. Eyes closed, she smiled a little and took another deep breath, breathing him in.

Despite the late afternoon sun on her skin, she had goose bumps. He went on to kiss her left temple, so softly, moving down to her neck. She knew his intentions were to just enjoy her presence, to take in her beauty. He never made her feel less than beautiful. Less than perfect. He continued softly kissing her neck moving down to her collarbone. At this moment she was happy she had chosen to wear her favorite sundress, where he had complete access to her collarbone and shoulders.

She opened her eyes and looked up towards the sky, extending her neck. He read her perfectly and continued caressing her neck with his lips. She smiled, watching the clouds pass, happy. He was here. She was here. Nothing else was important.

…for only a second

Somehow I ended up at his wedding. He always joked that it would be funny if the next time we saw each other would be at the other ones wedding. Well, here I am... and it's not funny. It's heart-wrenching.

How did I end up here? It's like I opened my eyes and I was with him at the altar. I know I am not the one marrying him. She is. The only other girl he's ever loved. The girl that he essentially replaced me with... simply because we couldn't have each other.

I was happy for him. I always have been. But I never had any intention of showing up at his wedding. Why would I ever want to torture myself that way? Why would I want to tempt him and cause him to question his decisions?

I suddenly realized that he was staring at me. Holding my hands in his. The guests had all taken their seats and seemed clueless that a woman who was not the bride was standing at the altar, holding the hands of a groom that was not hers. All I knew is that I had to find some way of excusing myself.

But how? I have always loved this man. The only reason we stopped being together was a change of countries. A move. A desire to further educational goals. We never stopped loving each other. Then he moved on and fell in love and so did I. And then I got engaged... and I don't ever remember him telling me that he was going to marry her.

I took a deep breath to tell him that I had to go, but before I could get the words out he said, "Just kiss me. One last time." he pleaded. "Kiss me and I will leave with you and I won't marry her."

My heart pounded. "I can't." I realized how weak I sounded and repeated myself, hoping to convince someone. Anyone. "I can't."

He leaned in, "Please, I love you. And we are here, together now. I won't marry her... please don't marry him." His lips touched mine, for only a second. I could feel myself melting. I could feel myself considering his proposal, for only a second. Then I realized what I was doing. I love him, yes, but I couldn't do this. I couldn't ruin lives for a "what if," for a "possibility." I moved out of his embrace. "I can't."

I left the altar, the guests still unaware of my existence. As I fled the mountaintop, I heard the music begin and the guests gasp at the beauty of the bride walking down the aisle toward her groom. I stopped, for only a second, wanting to look back. I heard somewhere that in the movies, when lovers stop to glance at each other as they are leaving, then you know that they will be together. This wasn't a movie. I never glanced back.

People move on. Life cycles through.

The crash and burn happened when the lie was brought to light.

I'm not perfect, and would never want to be. If you're flawed too, you become real to me. Sometimes, just sometimes, you find a girl who probably should call herself a man because she isn't like all the other girls.

I understand the carnal need, I have that need myself.

I understand the conquest. I am a conqueror.

I understand the feeling of being trapped. I'm a caged animal more than I am not.

Where they get it wrong with me, is lying to me about it all.

... there are some lies that are not known to be lies, even by the man who told them. They think they know what they want, until they find out differently. The challenge then is convincing me it wasn't a lie to begin with.

I don't judge them for who they are/were. I am not perfect. I don't expect you to be. Society has it all wrong... IT judges you for who you are.

I judge you for the lie I was told in order to fit in to that society.