Warm Wishes

"Tis the season, finally. The only traveling my family does over the winter break is to ice hockey tournaments. I admit to being disappointed. Our plans are less than exciting, consisting of attending a tournament, completion of high school applications and a dentist appointment. Everyone else is traveling to more interesting climes, or so it seems. So, yesterday, I noticed an e-mail from the homeless shelter at Ansche Chesed saying they needed volunteers. I signed myself up for January 2nd and will help out with my eldest daughter. All of the sudden, chic vacation plans seemed so much less important than being grateful for the warmth of my home and the blessings of my family.

Character Counts

An historical exhibit at the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland shows video clips of various leaders admonishing that this art form posed a threat to society. They were, of course, talking about sexuality, but has anyone noticed that the moral fiber of our society has been degrading since, let's say, Watergate? Who can be admired or respected anymore? Perhaps I am being romantic, but it seems that, once upon a time, there were shared expectations as to standards of behavior. Certainly, people behaved badly back in that mythically perfect once upon a time. Just because corruption, adultery, drug or alcohol were not discussed or publicized doesn't mean those problems didn't exist. Even mean girls pre-dated the 1970's; think of "The Children's Hour," written by Lillian Hellman in 1934 in which the lives of two teacher's lives are destroyed by a malicious rumor started by a student. And that play pre-dates facebook by light years. What if that hellion of a student had the capacity to go viral? Lack of a moral compass appears to be as severe a pandemic as the H1N1 virus.

A change is afoot. A few weeks ago, the headmaster of my daughter's school addressed his students and admonished them for their facebook comments. These students were told, in no uncertain terms, that they were being held to a high standard of honor and character. I was and am so pleased that my children have had the good fortune to be part of a unique community where character development remains paramount. We grownups need to examine our values. Certainly, we should not return to a time when women silently suffered domestic abuse and immoral behavior was merely swept under the rug. Rather, we need to lead by example and be our best selves - our kindest, most hard working, honest and generous selves. Our relationships with others need to be based on respect. We need to value everyone who contributes to our daily life and give thanks at the beginning and end of each day. However, our children need to see us recover from mistakes, acknowledge that we are less than perfect. An apology is an amazing teaching tool.

Lessons learned from Puffin, the cat

My children were toddlers at play when we heard kittens mewing. That was when we found Puffin, Muffin and their brother. Muffin and the third cat were adopted, but Puffin stuck around. When we tore down our old home and erected a new structure, Puffin lit out for the wild and didn't return for years. Her timing was remarkable; she showed up just when our puppy, KJ, arrived home. She would come and go, but about three years ago, Puffin decided to settle in for good. She would take turns sleeping with the girls and with me and Joe. She had her spot on the couch, and always shared my glass of water in the evening. Generally, if our family went away on vacation and left a pet sitter in charge, Puffin would run away and return only after she was certain we were home. Only Beth Goldin of Whimsical Pet in Huntington, New York [www.whimiscalpet.com], was able to develop a relationship with this kitty.

A few weeks ago, Puffin ran outside as we were leaving for our Columbus Day weekend adventure - see Ode to a Warhorse for the story of our MDX. Ordinarily, this would not have been cause for concern. Among cats, Puffy was of the indoor/outdoor variety and quite capable of fending for herself. However, when she finally showed up at our home on Wednesday, Puffin could barely stand up. In the past week and a half, Puffin was twice hospitalized. After her last stay, she came home and was eating voraciously. Within 12 hours, however, Puffin's hind quarters were paralyzed and fluid gathered in her abdomen.

Just two days ago, the vet and I discussed euthanizing Puffin. The cat was alert and didn't seem uncomfortable. I discussed the decision with my husband and children. No one - especially me - felt comfortable ending our cat's life. She was interacting and affectionate. I am not G-d, and didn't feel that I had the right to decide whether a creature lived or not. Today, however, nature ran its course; Puffin, died comfortably at home this afternoon.

Many say that cats only give you affection in exchange for food, but in these last days, Puffin truly seemed to appreciate the comfort of being held and stroked these past few days. Puffin taught our children about engaging in frank discussions about end-of-life decisions. She taught them that death is a natural part of life, and that permitting someone to die a natural death can be peaceful. Puffin's body was donated to our vet, who will use her body to gain clinical knowledge. There are many things I will miss about our cat, but I can rest easily, knowing that everything passed in a manner ordered by nature.

What's it worth to ya?

As you know, I have started a business offering my services as an editor and writer. I have always enjoyed writing, and get a particular thrill out of helping clients find their voice. But this is truly diffrent than going to work for an existing organization. Rather than walking into a pre-made structure, I define my structure. Most important, though, is that I assign a value to my work, as opposed to someone else telling me how much I will be paid.

It takes a courage to lay it on the line and tell someone, in the first place, that your knowledge and skill have worth. Of course, your first target audience is yourself. If you don't believe that your time and effort have value, how can you possibly ask someone else to pay you for your work? To me, assigning a dollar amount to my talent affirms that I value myself and my intellect. Not that I have conducted a study, but I suspect that women are particularly prone to devaluing themselves. Think of the old Loreal advertisement, where the woman using the product says "because I'm worth it." Interesting. In our society, a woman's worth is measured by what she spends, not by what she earns.

I have encountered other women starting businesses who diminish themselves by saying that their intent is not to make money. In reality, they are afraid to be assertive. When I hear a woman say that making money isn't her driving intent, it makes me want to get up on a pulpit like Jesse Jackson, and shout "No, no, no! Repeat after me, I AM somebody!" Assigning value to your talent and abilities is an important lessons in self-esteem (see my previous post). Recently, I told someone about my venture and a bid I had put on a job. She was astonished by the proposed price. I was equally confident that the price for my work was justified. I know that I can do something that is unique. I hope you believe in your talents, too.

From self-doubt to self-confidence

Have you ever met someone who has no doubt that they are entitled to attaining their dreams - that that they deserve success on their terms? At the Womensphere Global Summit in Manhattan on October 24, 2009, I heard one such woman, Suzy Welch, speak. Ms. Welch is an author and former editor of the Harvard Business Review. Clearly, the key to Ms. Welch's success was absolute confidence. She seems to attack any objective - whether it be financial success or renown - with conviction. Her apparent and unapologetic sense of entitlement isn't a negative. Rather, it is an admirable trait.

I will never forget Michael Jordan's appearance in a 'Stuart Smalley' skit with Al Franken on Saturday Night Live long ago. Franken's character, Stuart Smalley, was a self-help television host, whose practice it was to look at himself in the mirror and utter the mantra "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and, doggonit, people like me!" It was comical to watch Franken's character assure Micheal Jordan that pre-game jitters are normal. Smalley views the world through a warped lens and assumes that everyone suffers from self-doubt. Yet, Michael Jordan shows the audience quiet, unwavering confidence. Honestly, there are times when I have felt much more like Stuart Smalley than like either Michael Jordan or Suzy Welch - in terms of self-esteem, that is.

Low-self esteem is the polar opposite of Ms. Welch's sense of entitlement or Michael Jordan's self asured demeanor. It is an insidious disease that can paralyze and prevent progress. And even if you manage to attain some sort of success, that little bit of self doubt can nag and undermine. How can you clear the low self-esteem cob webs? Accepting that you have an issue is a good first step. Review your positive traits and acheivements. Remember that there is nothing wrong with feeling pride in anything and everything you have done. Then, look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and, doggonit, people like me!" It's okay; I won't tell anyone if you don't.

Just Do It

Dayniah Manderson was profiled in an article in the New York Times Metropolitan section on Sunday, May 2, 2010. Ms. Manderson has suffered from spinal muscular atrophy type II since childhood. She has endured surgeries and is confined to a wheelchair. However, Ms. Manderson has a daughter and a job. She also had an abusive relationship, but she certainly isn't putting up with that. The article in the Times was well-deserved acknowledgement of this remarkable human being.

The way we manage our limitations is significant. I don't like it when my limitations interfere with my ability to work and play. After a while, I feel like complaining. But I know that I experience periods of relief, while others never will. The New York Times article discussed modifications Ms. Manderson makes to facilitate her work day. Specifically, she doesn't eat breakfast or drink all day because she is unable to go to the bathroom on her own. She didn't complain. She didn't indicate that she felt sorry for herself. The situation is what it is. I certainly hope that the article results in additional help for Ms. Manderson.

Ode to a war horse MDX

Our weekend started at 6 a.m. on Saturday, when we drove from Long Island to Choate Rosemary Hall, which is near New Haven. Choate is one of America's premier boarding high schools. Its girls ice hockey program has produced four olympians and our daughter was interviewing for a slot at the school. She was well received and blended beautifully with the other students. We spent about 3 hours at the school, and that was followed by a game between my daughter's team and the Connecticut Polar Bears. Choate's coach came to watch Laura and some other players. Again, we were really happy with the coach's comments about our daughter's ability.

Our other daughter, Allison, attends school on the other side of Connecticut at the Kent School which is in, well, Kent. The town shuts down by 9, basically. After an amazing dinner at Blu Grill, we went to the only convenience store that was open. Laura was recovering from a nasty cold and needed lozenges and tissues. My husband brought the car over to the store lot and parked. Laura and I got in the car and we were about to head back to our inn outside of town. Joe backed the car out of its spot, then put the car into drive. The engine was running, but the gear didn't engage and the car just sat there. It was close to closing time, so a state trooper was in the lot to watch over the store - not that there is ever any trouble in Kent. I walked over to the squad car. "Why didn't your husband just drive you over," he quipped, at which point I explained our predicament.

The officer, the store owner and Joe investigated. They found a pool of liquid where the car had been parked and noticed that the car was hemorraging greenish blue liquid. Using a flashlight, they looked inside the hood. Together, they concluded that the transmission had failed. Now, I am not particularly knowledgeable about cars, but I do know that the transmission is the rough equivalent of the human heart; once it isn't working, the vehicle or person basically has no chance for survival. Suffice it to say that we ended up getting a rental car and completed the trip with a visit to Joe's sister in Boston and two more boarding schools - all of which was very exciting - but this is about the car.

The MDX - our MDX - was not merely a form of transportation. We bought the car in 2004. At that point, we had transferred the girls into East Woods School in Oyster Bay Cove. We were attracted to their strong academic program, emphasis on character development and an ice hockey program in which Laura could participate starting in 5th grade. Her improvement warranted branching out even further, so Laura joined The Long Island Waves, a travel team, in 6th grade, in addition to her participation on the East Woods team. This is her third year with that team. Participation in that team involved remarkable feats of transportation.

The MDX has been there every step of the way. It has transported us from points north in Connecticut to Yorktown, Pennsylvania, as well as tournaments in places you have heard of, like Rochester and Syracuse and places you haven't heard of, like Chazy, New York. It has ferried us to visit boarding schools throughout the northeast, and it has permitted us to meet dedicated educators and coaches. The MDX took Allison to Kent School, where she has been afforded unique opportunities to grow and develop - and home again. Then there were the trips up to New England Music Camp in Belgrade Lakes, Maine. There, our daughters' relationships with both peers and teachers were cultivated and their abilities as musicians enhanced through instruction and weekly performances.

As parents, my husband and I view our job as providing the best resources to enable our daughters to accomplish. The MDX was part of that effort, plus it had more than 130,000 miles. It turns out that all the MDX needed was a new radiator. Despite its new lease on life, it is time to put the old war horse out to pasture. No one achieves success alone. It is important to thank those who have helped you accomplish your goals. Dear old MDX, you helped us do our job as parents. As cars go, you were amazing.