Responsibility vs Response-Ability

It seems everywhere we turn we are hearing the word: responsibility!
As I look back over my life, I can see how my parents taught me responsibility in so many areas: personal, work, emotional, spiritual, mental, relationships, etc. I am just like most people of my generation. The one thing that my parents did not teach me, and something that it has taken me years to understand, is that how I respond is just as important as responding.  
Quick question… Who else was raised with the “God helps those who help themselves?” Sounds so biblical doesn’t it? It’s not but that might be a topic for another time. 
Now, we have a generation that is not afraid to speak up and speak out (or walk out). And most of our generation is all up in arms (pun intended) about it. I think that my generation, Generation X, and all the generations before, has failed the new generation, Generation Y or, as they are more commonly referred, the Millennials.
Let me explain.  As a parent, I sought to make my children’s lives easier, kinder, more compassionate, etc.  I taught them the “winning isn’t everything” mantra right along with the “as long as you are trying your best” excuse.  Yes, I taught them about bills and budgeting and that you have to work hard for your employer but I fell down a little on the teaching of “the world’s not fair”!  I didn’t realize that I should have also been teaching them “Response-Ability”.
How we respond to the situation of life is just as important as how we live life.  Our pastor recently preached on this topic and it has taken me a few days to process everything that he taught.  As followers of Christ we are taught that He responded to everything with love yet, many times, we respond with harsh words, judgement, condemnation, gossip, religiousness, and the list goes on.  It’s ironic that we are all against bullying but that is how we act around those that might disagree with us.  We wonder why gun violence in schools is on the rise and friendships are being lost because of elections but we don’t stop to look at how we respond to the situations that we are placed in each and every day and, more importantly, we fail to recognize that our children see how we respond and learn that behavior.  We can not blame the new generations for their responses and actions when we are the ones that have taught them everything they know.
So, now that we are all reflecting on some of the bad things our kids may have learned, what do we do?  Well, for starters, let them see a new response.  Even though they are adults, they still look to Mom and Dad for guidance.  When something happens classify it into one of three categories (credit for this goes to our awesome pastor): Rubber, Metal, or Glass.  Is what just happened something I can bounce back from or something that I will survive but might be a little dented, or is it something breakable that will cause me to never be the same?  Be realistic in your classification.  Most things that happen in life are rubber and you will bounce back very quickly.  So the drive-thru got your Starbucks order wrong, your budding artist colored on the wall, that jerk just cut you off or pulled out in front of you…all rubber.  Five seconds doesn’t have to affect your whole day.  These are the moments that you just look towards the heavens and say, “okay, Lord, that just happened but it’s all going to be okay.”
The metal things are a little tougher to handle.  That report from the doctor or the loss of your job or your car breaks down or that relationship (not marriage) ends.  These are all things that can cause a momentary denting of our souls but our life goes on.  These are the prayers that are more like, “Lord, I don’t understand what’s going on but I know that You have great plans for me.  I trust You for healing, financial provision, guidance, and comfort with my broken heart.”
The shattering of the “glass” in our lives are, thankfully, few.  Loss of life of a loved one, destruction of trust, divorce, financial ruin…All will shatter us to the core and will change us in such a way that we never view life the same.  These are the prayers that are more tears and cries than words.  The Lord hears the cries and collects the tears.  He wraps His arms around you and just lets you cry and then, if you let Him, He will give you joy.
I have begun the process of  teaching these classifications to my grown children and my young grandchildren.  My children vent to me their rubber, metal, and glass situations (up to now, with only one glass situation it has all been rubber – thank God!) and then gently and lovingly try to get them to see that their response may not have been accurate for the situation.  I talk to my grandchildren about their day, school, friends, home, etc.  When they are having a bad day we deal with the situation.  I am very careful to validate how they feel because that is just as important as what happened.  We try to see if their perception of the situation is accurate.  This is how they learn and grow into responsible adults.
It is time to learn that we all have to face our responsibilities with an even bigger response-ability.
Blessings to one and all!
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Santa Clause is coming to town

Oh how time flies.  One minute you are trying to figure out how to plan menus, grocery shop on a budget, and keep your 23-year-old from killing the 17-year-old and the next minute you are wearing a tiara studded Santa hat while attempting to manage Santa.

Yes, my fellow divas, my hubby decided that he wanted to become Santa this year.  Now my reddish blond haired partner in life is snow white haired and wears red… ALL. THE. TIME! So, I guess that makes me Mrs. Claus.

No, I will not be dying my hair snow white, nor will I be plumping up again anytime soon (took me 17 years too lose baby weight from the last one).  I will concede to baking cookies and talking to children and making up stories about reindeer.  To my surprise, I have found that there is a lot more to “being Santa” than just putting on the red suit and barking out “Ho, Ho, Ho”.  Our last 6 months have been a whirlwind of Santa schools, Santa meetings, contract negotiations, suit fittings, and learning the ins and outs of the business side of things.

Now, I am sitting in a hotel in somewhere CA (can’t tell you where so don’t ask) and learning to be domesticated in a one-bedroom, extended-stay facility that doesn’t have an oven.  No cookies this year I guess.  I escort Santa to his set everyday at the local mall, make sure he has a good lunch, and then pick him up after 8 hours of photos with children that scream, yell, and, occasionally, smile beautifully for the camera.  He is loving every minute of it!  I visit the set sometimes and watch, in awe, as he loves on adults and children alike.

An autistic boy comes in and my hubby loves on him and talks with him at length about what he would like for Christmas as mom watches with tears in her eyes.  Mom thanks him and he merely smiles and tells her, “a child is a child is a child.  Santa makes no distinctions.”  He holds a precious sleeping baby and the parents get a photo of Santa “sleeping” while cuddling their little miracle.  I tear up when I see the photos because it is a precious moment.  A group of teenagers get a fun shot of them and Santa all flashing the “peace” sign.  They laugh and are having a great time.  The point to all of this is that you are never too young or too old to experience the magic of Christmas and the wonder that is Santa.  I live with the guy and he still invokes all of the magic and miracle feelings of Christmas in me.

Yes, we both believe in the true meaning of Christmas and I think that is what I love most about this particular journey in our life…He always ends his visits with children and adults by telling them to have a very Merry Christmas and to be blessed.  He has shared with all that he loves what he does because this is the life that God has called him to and that the true meaning of Santa and Christmas is no different than that of Jesus Christ… to love others and to explain that it is the love of Christ in us that will change the world.

So… You better watch out, you better not cry…You better not pout, I’m telling you why…   Merry Christmas and God Bless

 

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Let It Go

Good Day my fellow Divas! So many changes can happen in such a short time.  As discussed earlier, I am on a journey of domestication.  Life is grand (said tongue in cheek).  Hubby is still amazing, my “baby” is now 17 and we recently made the decision to home school him for his final year (his choice) and our baby girl (23) has moved back home as she wasn’t quite ready for full onslaught adulthood (it is more expensive than she thought).  I thought that I would continue down this path of domesticated diva-hood with a dance in my step and a song in my heart (Insert fanciful dancing and Julie Andrews singing, here).

Guess again!  I am now the proud caretaker to my dear hubby’s mom!  Yep, my mother-in-law is now in residence.  Well, what else can you do when it becomes apparent that an elderly parent can no longer live on her own? For starters, convert your hubby’s man cave to an extra bedroom and then move her in. Sounds simple, right?
Did I mention that my precious mother-in-law has dementia and early onset Alzheimer’s? My dear friends and followers, you can not imagine the upheaval that can be caused! It all sounds so simple. Move mom in, make sure she takes her medicine, take care of her in ways that she can’t (or won’t), and be the “perfect” child/parent to your aging parent/child.

The first month, or two or three, found us fighting us on everything.  When to take a bath, when to take medicine, when to eat, what do we eat, where do we eat, and the list goes on.  We began to discuss if it would be better to put mom into a nursing home.  Of course, we have all heard the stories…the food is better in prison, the care is inadequate, the living arrangements are substandard, the employees are abusive, on and on.  There are horror stories galore and, for some reason, everyone has to tell you theirs when the discussion comes up.  I needed real advice from someone who was going through the same thing so I turned to the internet.  No, I didn’t WebMD or Wikipedia anything.  All that would have told me is that she (or I) were dying and given me complete misinformation.  I looked at sites dedicated to the care of elderly dementia patients and the light bulb finally came on.  My mother-in-law is just like another child.  She wants to be independent but can not handle making big decisions.

Now, we somewhat peacefully co-exist.  Time for breakfast so does she want toast or an English muffin, bacon or sausage (she always wants bacon because she doesn’t like sausage), how does she want her eggs (always scrambled)…Her choices very seldom change, but she still has a choice.  She makes the decision and that keeps her independent (in her mind).  I ask her everyday what she would like for dinner and she always says, “anything will be fine”.  I have learned that it doesn’t have to be an argument but, on the days that she is feeling particularly cranky, I have also learned to just Let It Go (cue Queen Elsa montage)

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Why do I call myself a Domesticated Diva?

Ok…let me just make one thing perfectly clear.  I did not start life out being domesticated.  I don’t sew, I don’t decorate my house, I don’t clean my house and I am not that great about making sure the laundry is done either.  That is why I got married.  You think I jest but I am serious.

Yes, of course I love my husband.  He is an amazing man that just happens to sew, decorate, clean and do laundry.  He also does the yard, washes my car, and fixes stuff.  He is truly a gift from God.  Early on in our relationship, he was injured to the point of not being able to work so I, naturally, was the “bread-winner” in the household.  Did I fail to mention that this left him with my 3 children from my previous marriage to deal with too?  Yep, he took it all in stride.  I was working 60 hours plus a week, bringing home an amazing paycheck, scheduling our date night, etc.  Total role reversal.

Then, bam, 2 major life altering incidents.  I went to the hospital for what I thought was a bug bite that wouldn’t heal and turns out it was a staph infection that had to be operated on. While in the hospital, they discovered I was a diabetic with blood sugars ranging in the 400’s (doctors said I should have already been dead).  Less than 2 years later, I was hit by a car (walking across a parking lot, lady backs out, and next thing I know, I am in an ambulance).  Suddenly, work is not something that I can focus on and everyday life functions become difficult tasks to perform. Now, my days consist of trying to keep my feet from swelling to the point that they are my favorite shade of purple and knowing when the mind numbing headache will hit so I can try to prevent it from rearing its ugly head (pun intended).

So…now I am home full-time with nothing to do.  I am not a pinterest fanatic but I have turned into a Facebook game junkie.  I also now know more about Divorce Court, Judge Mathis, Paternity Court, People’s Court, Let’s Make A Deal (I love Drew Carey), Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, Celebrity Name Game, and The Doctor’s than anyone realizes.  Time for a change…

I started out cooking breakfast for my sweet hubby and son.  Out of the 6 kids between us, we now only have my “baby” left at home.  He is 16, 6’5″ and weighs a mere 273 lbs.  I pat him on the  head and send him to school everyday with breakfast, snack, and lunch, all of which he consumes I think before the bus even reaches the school.  From breakfast, I started making sure the hubs had a good nutritious lunch and then all of us had a good balanced dinner.  Today finds me doing laundry, cleaning out the fridge, planning meals, couponing, cleaning toilets (ewwwww) and giving the dogs baths.  I now drive a mini-van and am anticipating the joy of picking out a new one.  Yes, it  has happened, I am domesticated and I love every single minute of it.  I have always excelled at work.  Not for recognition from my boss or anyone else, but just so in my mind, I knew that I was giving it 100%.  Not 110% because that is not even possible and by all that is holy, I hate it when people say that they give something 110%.  But, I digress.  Now, I am throwing everything I have into this whole domestic thing and, quite frankly, with a lot of attitude…Hence, Domesticated Diva!  Life is crazy and I have a lot of time to muse about such things.

Come and join me as we figure this out together… Hakuna Matata!

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