New Years Resolution

INTENTIONS 2023

I survived “The Holidays” and I would like to be the first to congratulate you on your own success in this area. I don’t know why it gets so stressful but also, the crowds, the search for the perfect gift, the expenses, and last minute, well, last minute everything is part of the charm.  Now we can clear the table and start a freshly energized cycle for the next 11 months leading up to more of the same. 

For this new year, 2023, I made no resolutions. In past years I’ve listed scores of things I want to change, or conquer, or accept, and then I promptly lose the list so instead, for 2023, I wrote my intentions for this year on the cover of a new notebook. 

I plan to see my intentions at least once a day which means keeping track of the notebook.  You might be saying ‘she’s got to be kidding, just put the notebook in the same place every day.’  If it was that simple, I wouldn’t have to muse about it!  

My intention for today is to keep the notebook nearby, make my plans for today and that’s all I need to do, daily.  Wish me luck. 

I want to talk TikTok

TikTok brings me joy.

Why?

It’s hard to say.

During the first part of the Covid Stay At Home orders in our state, my husband would stare at his iPad for hours (not kidding here) every evening while he had a cigar. It annoyed the crap out of me. “What is the big deal,” I’d complain. “Oh, right, it’s people making dumb faces and spewing little needed facts about things like how to make fondant flowers!” I shook my head and then went off to bed while he sat on the porch for another hour flicking at his screen, up, over, up, and so on.

This was TikTok and I was not a fan until, one night my daughter saw me seething her dad’s new evening hobby (as if I wasn’t alienated enough by cigar smoke), and she showed me her favorite things about TikTok. I wasn’t immediately sold but, I was curious enough to go back for more the next day when I secretly made an account. I wanted to be able to select or share videos, to post a comment or ask a question. She invited me to be in a TikTok with her, just so I could understand how it works. “Wow,” I said, “that was fun and I don’t even know why.”

It wasn’t long before I made a recipe, from TikTok, or showed my husband a really good guitar riff to learn, from TikTok, and so on. There are tons of household hacks, videos by authors, musicians, magicians, dancers, of course tons of puppies and kittens recipes, you name it, you can find it. But the one thing I get from TikTok that is hard to find these days, is joy. There is an abundance of joy in the videos, and there are people in real pain finding support from humanity. That was the draw, and that’s what keeps me there. Of course, opinions and haters are abundant too, but it’s easy to outnumber the bad with the good once you find the best minded individuals to follow and if you don’t want comments, turn them off.

I talked about TikTok to my music students in the weeks that followed my indoctrination. It seemed like a young persons media so I thought it would make me seem cool. I promised that I would make a video about music as soon as they all completed their missing work. I believe now, that they just thought I was just more than usual. But I did make the video and once again, it was fun and I don’t even know why. There is a link at the bottom of the page if you want to see it.

I’m making more TikTok videos now, mostly for fun but at the core something has been liberated from my psyche that until now has always held me back. My fear and insecurities have somehow been replaced with courage. Something has become more important than fear.

I’ve been thinking about making a series of videos concerning weight loss, thinking that may be a way to actually get to my long and far away goal. If it works, it will be great! If it doesn’t work, I’ll still have the same problem but it will be less “weighty.”

Helen’s TikTok

It’s okay to be happy today.

This is a scary time. I remember other scary times, but none like this.

This past week I’ve been on social media more than usual — probably more in the past month than in all of the past year.  My website, Helensgoodideas,  was actually broken for a long time because it had a virus (pardon the pun). But now that it back, I will give it some love.

If you are at all like me, you want to laugh at funny movies or watch a comedy special, but at times it feels wrong to have fun when so many people are suffering in so many ways. Still, we need relief from the onslaught of bad news or we will for sure go crazy. Topping illness with a insanity is a bad recipe.

It’s curious thought, that among the despair, there’s also a Renaissance happening everywhere. People are making art and music, and sharing dance videos and magic tricks with facebook, youtube, instagram, and of course with TikTok. We’ve become home chefs and purveyors of goods which we sew, or invent, or print with our 3D printers. I walk my dog and see neighbors doing yard work, or playing with their children, or just sitting on lawn chairs getting some sun. We wave and smile and say hello, and I don’t know the first names of most of the people I pass. Is it possible we see each other more separated than we did when we were together?

I wish to my soul, that nobody else gets sick, that nobody else dies, and that all the jobs and money we’ve lost is returned in droves. I wish this all to go away today and become a blurry memory. But that isn’t likely to happen.

In the meantime, we need to allow ourselves to have fun. My daughter has been bugging me to make a tiktock with her, and finally I did. It wasn’t as embarrassing as I thought and frankly if I waited to be at my goal weight, or in the right lighting it would never happen. So go ahead and dance. You may brighten the day of a person who could use some cheering up. In the meantime, enjoy this

TikTok

She Speaks The Truth

I sent my the very first note for Thank You Thursday today, to Tiffany Jenkins who has quite a story to tell, and I doubt few could tell it like she did. I laughed so hard about a subject to dark, that I realized this is life, like it or not. I have been waiting to get started on this Thank You campaign, and part of her message left me thinking, “what am I waiting for?”

I only knew of Tiffany because the good folks at instagram are so aware of everything we do, and my guess is they matched her content with my viewing, and set us up. I’m sure it was just a mom thing, but it is really so much more.

She tells the story of her addiction and recovery with the most amazing humor; her life as she lives it now, gloriously different than the day she hit her bottom would not be possible without the will to change. But there were many messages she gave that were on point, and relevant, and personal. We all have people in our lives who have addictions, we may not even know it.

Because thank you Thursday is about saying thank you, and not about me, I will stop here but I encourage you to read her book, subscribe to her channel, and also, to send a note to a person who should be thanked.

Mothers Day Humbug

I don’t remember how we celebrated Mother’s Day when I was a child, but when I finally evolved as somebody’s adult daughter, I made sure that I delivered for mom, every year. That may have been a subconscious effort to do penance for my teen years, but what’s the difference. I had a fun day with mother.

Now that I no longer have my own mother to pamper, I wonder why Mother’s Day is less important. I am a mom after all. Did my own mother ever feel that way after her mom passed?

It is impossible for me to say why I’m not a fan of mothers day without sounding selfish. There is a s psychological component at play for sure. I don’t want to be set up for disappointment. No matter what I say, or who I say it to, the day is always kind of lackluster compared to the expectations I have from watching commercials on the subject. I want to spare myself the blow.

Why, and who, decided that we must impose Mother’s Day. While I do think honoring mothers is a nice thing to do, the he truth is that this phenomenon was created by a person who spent the last 20 years of her life trying to have mothers day abolished. Too bad for us that Hallmark had more influence on the country than she did. Ironic too, that she never had children.

And all of this brings me to the point I wanted to make all along. I don’t like Mother’s Day. I’m happy that I was able to treat my mother to her day out – shopping, lunch, girl things. I miss her. When she passed away, we cleaned out her apartment I kept her sewing machine, her wind up toy of a doll called ‘Matzo Man’ who sings when you wind him up, and I kept her jewelry box that contained nothing more valuable than my memories. If she were alive still, I’d be on my way to see her right now, probably without my own kids since it’s mothers day after all, and call me selfish, but it’s Mother’s Day and my kids are kids, not mothers.

I would like to promote a weekend cruise 2020 for mothers only. No dads, no kids, and no exceptions either. Exceptions get us into trouble.

Let’s go out and celebrate what all those hard lessons have taught us:

We are in charge of our own happiness.

To impose our expectations on dads and kids is just an exercise in futility, and disappointment, and on some level, is simply an injustice for them. I mean, earrings and mugs that say ‘I ❤️ Mom’ are nice, but do I need to say anything more about Mother’s Day knickknacks?

Let’s have fun like we used to. Leave your cell phone on dry land, turn off the internet, eat and drink and play the music loud! A weekend of camaraderie at sea with other mom warriors is this is the gift I want next year. I can just see it. My husband and our daughters drive me to the pier and hand over my luggage. I blow a kiss from the main deck as the ship leaves the harbor and as I wave goodbye I call to them. “See you Sunday! If you have an emergency, dial 9-1-1. Bye now.”

I’m in charge. Why don’t I have an office?

I was driving.  My daughter, who was then about 5 years asked: “Mom, how do you get to be in charge?”

“What do you mean? In charge of what?”   I answered.  

“Like, you’re in charge of all of us.  How do you get to be in charge?”

My friend, and mom of  two boys, called me at that very moment and I deferred to her.  “Mel wants to know how I got to be in charge of everyone.”

 Her response,  “Oh, right, that’s the booby prize. “

It’s true. I am the person who keeps the budget, who finds the missing shoe, who keeps track of who goes where, and when, and so on. It certainly reads like a boss’s job, yet I don’t feel like a boss.  Bosses go out to lunch, they don’t prepare the meal and also clean up after everybody leaves the room. Bosses wear nice clothes. I wear what I slept in.  Bosses get a paid vacation. I don’t even get paid. Bosses have an office door that closes to indicate they would like privacy, and they get it!  Well, that’s fun to imagine.

If I had an office, with a door to close, it would be lovely. There would be a

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Let the Box Fit

Here’s a great way to get more from your gift boxes. Usually, you can get sweater boxes and shirt boxes at Target for a decent price, usually under a dollar each and less if they’re on sale.

But, when you need a smaller box, for gloves, or cute novelty socks just to name a couple popular gift items, you will need a smaller box. I know how to take the top OR the bottom of a large box and make it right sized for smaller gifts.

This not only saves you money and cuts down on waste, it’s also really cool.

Spring Break With Teens

I just came back from New Orleans where my husband and I spent 4 days with our 18 year old twin daughters . If you are planning such a thing, good luck.

Day 1 – The Departure

In order to maximize our time on this short trip, I booked a 7:15 AM flight. I didn’t mind the 4:45 AM car ride to the airport but in truth, it did not set a very good tone for the day. Most of the afternoon felt like purgatory to me, similar to the days when they when they were toddlers and missed a nap. I felt stuck in the virtual space between 5pm and bedtime during which NOTHING MADE THEM HAPPY. It didn’t help that the sky was overcast and it was not (they reminded me constantly) as warm as I had promised. I wanted to tell them they should be grateful, and I wanted to tell them how their crappy disposition was ruining my day, and I wanted to put them on the next plane back to New Jersey. But I stayed positive and optimistic which definitely helped them stay as close to positive and optimistic as they could. We managed to get to Jackson Square, through the French Market with a couple of light happy moments, past all the live jazz and noise and I didn’t even complain when the dinner I planned was cancelled because ‘everything on the menu sounded weird.’ They didn’t even want a beignet which was top on my list! After a million blocks of tolerance we found a placed called the Clover Grill where you can have acceptable diner food served by exceptional cute young men, this definitely helped the mood. The menu had some interesting choices like this one:

After fries and grilled cheese sandwiches we took our babies back to the hotel for two stoic episodes of Modern Family and a family game of UNO which turned out to be the remedy. There’s nothing more satisfying for teenagers then hearing dad call “UNO!” only to fix it so that he has to skip his next turn and add four cards to his hand on his turn after that. We went to bed on a good note but I was praying for a better tomorrow.

  • Travel Tip 1 Remember that you too were once a teenager, even though it may be a painful admission of guilt, and also pack an UNO card game.

Day 2 – The Swamp

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Nothing Stands In Between Me & Mr. Softee

20a1cf34I have a fond childhood memory of the Mr. Softee Ice Cream Truck.  That tune! If what they say about memory and music is true,  I will be forever running to the curb when I hear da deedle de de de de …

It had been decades until today, I heard faint and faraway notes and I knew it.  He was back.  The familiar jingle that once sent me running with change in my hand and joy in my heart, knowing that I would soon have a cone from Mr. Softee.

I bolted outside and called out “Stop! Stop! Mr. Softee!”

But as I ran across the lawn, ouch, holy crap, I stepped on a bee in my bare feet.  I grabbed my toe and called out in pain.  My toe was swelling and pain seared through, but  I was determined to get that cone.

The driver was expressionless as I, the middle aged crazy lady dragged my injured self to his window.   But once there,  my decision making, which is a struggle all by itself was now clouded with pain.

An Ice cream sandwich!  Freshly made right there in front of me, YES!

I paid him and turned to hobble home holding a waxed paper sac with 3 inches of soft serve ice cream nestled between two big chocolate cookies with beautiful rainbow jimmies all around the edges.   I couldn’t wait.  But once inside I had a bee sting to tend to.  Still I had a bite before breaking out my mother’s home remedy (toothpaste) directly on the sting and Advil in case it didn’t work.

I can’t wait until the next time Mr. Softee comes down my street.  I’ve already decided on a chocolate coned dipped in magic.

Also – I’m wearing shoes.

the home office

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All moms need an office.     I have two part time jobs, neither of which cost me more time and brain space than parenting, and neither of which gives me an office, or even a desk, and  I would really like one.  A place of my own, where the treadmill to my right isn’t reminding me that my exercise regimen is pathetic,  or a place where the laundry room door isn’t staring me straight in the face saying “You! Come here! There’s work to be done in here!”   How am I supposed to be effective working from home with all these distractions!

Everybody in my family has a place to go and a door to close. They alone command everything inside their room.   If I had my own room, just for me, I imagine it would be glorious.   Nobody would just walk in demanding I help find a missing shoe.  The door, my barrier, would limit my availability to the rest of them.  I’d have office hours. Inside, there would be actual living houseplants for an abundance of oxygen, and I would use aromatherapy and  playlists to set the mood I choose.  All just for me.

Outside, on the door I’d keep a “problem box” with instructions:

  • Please fill out a form and state your problem, all complaints will be read on Friday between 4 & 5 pm.
  • Feel free to offer a solution to the problem for extra allowance.  
  • Forms submitted without a viable solution will be charged a small processing fee in advance of any response from the management.    
  • The turnaround time is about a week.  

I imagine that my office has a beverage container from Crate & Barrel, filled with spring ice water and pretty slices of fruit.   The drinking glasses are so clean that the sun  bounces off of their shine and fills sparkles of light fill the room.  And there is no dog, cat, rabbit, or guinea pig fur whatsoever.

As I come out of the dream scene I just described it becomes clear that I do not have my own room, or a beverage container from Crate & Barrel.    I have a desk in a cluttered room and one glass pitcher from Ikea.  As for the sparkling clean glasses and the absence of pet fur?  (enter laughter here)

So, for now I’ll just appreciate the roof and four walls that I call home.  I could paint the laundry room door a pretty color and put more things on the treadmill to disguise it but maybe, what I should do, is set out to prove what I tell my kids all the time.  It’s not what you think you need that really matters, it’s what you do with what you already have.

Whenever I complained to my own mother she’d always point out the more disadvantaged.   “Be happy you have shoes at all,” she’d say when I wanted really expensive converse sneakers that weren’t in the budget.   Or, “there are children suffering all over the world that would love to have the asparagus on your plate!”

I know. I really do have everything I need but gee, wouldn’t it be nice if I just had an office.    I can hear my mother now,  “be happy you have a place to live and food on your plate,” and I am happy for all of that .  But I wouldn’t mind if I were also happy for an office.