The Shame Game

Recently, Tim and I saw It’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, and I was reminded that Fred Rogers was one-of-a-kind. Last year, we saw Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, the documentary on Fred’s life, so I already knew that Mr. Rogers was not just a character. Fred Rogers was every bit as gentle with people behind the scenes as he was on camera. He was human, and like all humans, he experienced anger. It was what he did with that anger that made him different. He punched pillows or banged on piano keys, taking out his frustrations on inanimate objects. Fred Rogers was a preacher, and he was motivated to develop a show for children after seeing the violence in programming that was aimed at kids. What I gleaned from the documentary and the fictional movie based on him, was that Fred Rogers was not prone to fits of righteous indignation. He didn’t preach “shame on the world!” from a pulpit. He saw what children needed, and he set to work creating a safe space for them. When asked why he was so committed to his show, he didn’t defend his work by railing against the downfall of society. He only expressed a deep love for children. 

I’ve read lots of books this year (look for another post about my 2019 faves). One of my favorite authors has been Brené Brown; I read four of her books. She is a research professor that studies and lectures on the effects of shame. I’ve learned a lot. There is way too much shame in our society: mommy shaming, slut shaming, body shaming, church shaming, celebrity shaming, even dog shaming (I can’t lie, I love a good dog-shaming picture). Parents use shame to correct their children. Managers and bosses use shame to spur their employees towards better job performance. Teachers use shame to motivate their students into being better than. Churches shame their congregants into believing that they will never be good enough for heaven. And we on social media are panting for any excuse to shame the person that cut us off in traffic, the talk show host that said something inflammatory, the politician that is the polar opposite of all we believe in, the millennials that can’t do anything right, etc., etc. Please notice that I used the word “we”. I’ve participated in this ritual of shaming more times than I’d like to admit; Facebook Memories likes to remind me of all the awful stuff I’ve said over the years. I take the scenic route to and from work mainly because I don’t like the angry, aggressive driver I become on the interstate. 

I’m tired of being shamed, watching others be shamed, and inflicting shame. This year, I’ve begun making a conscious effort to put an end to this type of behavior. I think long and hard about what I want to say. I’ve stopped following the social media accounts of people, conservatives AND liberals, that routinely shame others, either for laughs or for malice. I’ve been called a self-righteous hypocrite. Perhaps the accusation is correct. I do think I’m better than some people. I am better than 1992 Melissa. I am better than 2003 Melissa. I am better than 2014 Melissa. Soon, I want to say that I’m better than 2019 Melissa. If refusing to participate in or listen to the shaming of others or striving to become a better version of myself makes me “self-righteous”, then so be it. By choosing to take a stand, I may lose a few followers, or lose more than I already have this year. I want to live by Michelle Obama’s motto: When they go low, we go high. I am under no illusions that I will wake up tomorrow as a person incapable of having a quick temper. I can only try not to sin in my anger. Maybe I can take a page out of Mr. Rogers’s playbook and focus my energy on telling the world what I am for instead of what or who I am against.

Cheering Section MVPs

So many of you have been excited for me and congratulating me on the news that my first essay will be published in an online literary journal in November. It’s been a much needed bright spot this last couple of weeks. Over the years, you’ve read my indulgent blog posts and have been gracious in your compliments and encouragement. It may have taken reading my work to a roomful of strangers and receiving positive feedback to give me that final boost of confidence I needed to send my writing out into the world. But if you’ve read and commented on anything I’ve ever posted, know that you have contributed to that slow rise of courage within me, and I am grateful. Today, I want to talk about three of my biggest supporters. 

Reagan has been genuinely interested in my endeavors for years. She reads my blog and encourages my singing. When I quit chorus because it was interfering with my attendance at the kid’s games or performances, she was disappointed. She knew how much singing meant to me, and she didn’t want to be the reason that I stopped doing something that made me so happy. She made me promise to go back after she graduated high school, so I plan to be back on the risers very soon. She looked forward to reading my Things That Made Me Happy Today lists, and she wishes I still wrote them.  She thought it was great that I signed up for the writing class at our library. After I read an essay in class, I sent her a Snapchat telling her about how well it was received. She was so excited!

She was the second person I told when I got the notification that my essay would be published. She was so proud of me, she bragged about it on Instagram.

Our mother/daughter relationship is all that I’d hope it would be. It’s a bond built on mutual love, trust, and respect. She is the main reason I’m writing. I want to preserve history for her and any children she may have. To know that she’s pulling for me, I am even more motivated to accomplish my goal.

No one believes in me more than Tim does. I swear I don’t remember this, but he says that he was the first to tell me about Metro Nashville Chorus (because one of his coworkers was a member) and suggest that I look into it. I didn't. A couple years later when a friend heard about MNC and wanted us to check it out, I wasn’t sure I was good enough to audition. Tim knew I had the talent within me, and he thought chorus was a great way to exercise that talent. He gave me the confidence to try out. He tells me that I have a knack for storytelling. Any time I’ve joked about writing a book, Tim has always been quite serious when he replies, “You should!” When I decided to take the plunge and write that book, he grinned and said, “I think it’s a great idea!” When I told him there was a 5-week course at the library on How To Write A Memoir, but I was hesitant to sign up because I’d have to read a sample of my work to the class, he said, “Do it!!” When I read in class and got great feedback, I texted Tim the next day to say that I thought I might submit the essay to a couple of publications. Again, his reply was, “Yeah. That’s a great idea!” After I’d stared, stunned and mouth agape, at my computer screen for several minutes reading the acceptance letter that my essay would be published, I went to our bedroom, stood at the foot of our bed, and said quietly, “I did it”. He was still in bed, but awake and on his phone. He’s said, “Did what?” I said, “I’m going to be published”. He flipped on the light, saying “Oh wow!!” He gave me a high five, which was all the enthusiasm I would expect at 6AM on a Saturday morning. A week later, Reagan and I heard Rainbow Rowell speak. I told Tim afterwards about a couple of technical questions from the audience about writing. I said, “The answers weren’t relevant for me, since I don’t write fiction.” Without hesitation, Tim said, “You don’t YET.” Writing class helped me over that final hurdle; my fear of rejection. I never would have thought I was good enough without the groundwork that was laid by my supportive husband. In fact, every single thing I’ve accomplished that I was initially too scared to tackle, happened only because Tim was behind me saying, “You should do this! You CAN do this!”

Tim called his mother the day I got the email about publication. Her response was, “I KNEW IT!!” For years, my mother-in-law has watched me scrapbook the kids’ lives, keep meticulous notes about Pierce’s extensive tests and medical history, and prepare for annual IEP meetings. She told me when the kids were little that she saw me writing a book someday about parenting a child with autism. I laughed it off. Time and time again, I would tell her my fears and doubts about all that was going on with Pierce and our future with him. Never once did she try to solve my problems or give me unsolicited advice. Instead, she made sure that I knew what a wonderful mother and wife she thought I was, and how confident she was in my ability to advocate for Pierce. I know I can’t possibly be as awesome as she thinks I am. I know I’ve made mistakes, and there’s no way I’m anywhere close to the ideal mom she proclaims that I am. But from the day I walked into her life, she has done nothing but focus on my strengths and all of the things I’ve managed to do right. If she notices the chinks in my armor, she doesn’t waste a breath telling me how I need to repair them. She has never asked or expected me to be better than or more than. We don’t chat often due to our busy schedules, but when we do communicate, she never fails to tell me how proud she is of me. A couple of days after Tim called his mom to give her the news, she sent me two emails.

First email:

I am not physically able to do cartwheels and handstands, but in my mind and imagination I am doing them now. I am so thrilled with the news Tim shared about your writing getting the all important acceptance letter! Wow and yippee and every other exclamation of joy and celebration I can think of! I knew years ago that it would happen. I've watched you be the marvelous woman, wife, and mother. Oh so many years ago I said to you: someday you'll write the book that will help others. Whether it will be a brief story or a whole book, your words will bless every reader. I can't tell you when I've been so thrilled and giddy over something. Yeah for you! Cheers and much love!

Second email:

I take turns in a rotation teaching my Sunday School class. I've mentioned you and your gifts...especially your efforts of encouraging the formation of a support system to families with special needs at church that will give them the gift of community and worship. While we gathered last week I shared your acceptance letter with my co-teacher partner and she asked me to share with everyone when she got to a certain point in her lesson about pure joy. I did. My class of over 50 people broke into applause. Many have spoken to me individually since to express their pure joy for you. We continue to celebrate your gifts and their use. 

I'm still tenderly clutching to my hope of that book we spoke of years ago...the book that encourages families and caregivers with strategies and hope. You have lived it all with grace, diligence, and beauty. You are a model of 'how you do it' when faced with an unexpected diagnosis that changes the entire trajectory of dreams and plans. You are my champion and I take every opportunity to sing your praise.  

I can sum it up in three words: you go girl! 

Much love!

I hope you have a cheering section. Everybody needs one. Mine is larger than these three people; this blog post isn't big enough to call all of them by name. Not everyone I know wants to sit in this section. When I receive messages of doubt and negativity from either those people that choose to sit elsewhere or from my own brain, I just need to call on the people in my corner who will help me see through the horsecrappery. These same people will gently speak truth to me when I lose my way, and if I fail, they will never say, “I told you so”. I have the courage to try new and scary things, because I have a cheering section that makes me believe I can succeed.

Kids These Days

I love plants and enjoy gardening. Therefore, working in a garden center is my dream job most of the year. The Spring months do make me question my life choices some days, though. Mostly, our customers feel the joy of being surrounded by plants and are optimistic about recreating some of that beauty in their own yards. People of all ages wander about our greenhouse and their experiences run the spectrum from novice to Master Gardener. Young adults that are moving into their first home are eager to make the place their own by creating some curb appeal. Families want to provide a learning experience for their children by planting a vegetable garden. Newly empty nesters are finding time to invest in a hobby and are looking to add to their plant collection. Senior citizens that helped THEIR grandmothers can green beans and tomatoes arrive early in the Spring to find the Bradley tomatoes they’ve been planting for 40 years. Children are in awe, and seasoned gardeners are giddy. Most days, it is fun and gratifying to help customers decide on vegetables they want to try or design flower beds for the front yard. Most people are open to suggestions and excited about the possibilities. Some customers are happy to have fellow plant-lovers that they can “talk shop” with and share the gardening hacks that they’ve discovered along the way. About 99% of our customers arrive happy, and leave just as, if not more so, happy. They are polite and gracious. That other 1%…

Working in retail gives me endless opportunities to practice patience and grace. Occasionally, there are interactions that make me doubt my faith in humanity. These customers walk around with a scowl on their face. They ooze entitlement, and my sole purpose is to serve them. Instead of greeting me, they stand at the entrance of the greenhouse and utter a single word, like “zinnias”. When it’s been one of those days and I’m feeling feisty, I’ll say, “Are you asking me where the zinnias are located? Are you trying to tell me about zinnias? Do you have questions about zinnias?”. I feel like the parent of a 3-year-old. USE YOUR WORDS. These customers will be the first to inform me which plants need to be watered and let me know when a plant’s appearance is sub par. They balk at our prices saying, “I can get those much cheaper at Wal-Mart”. They will walk up to me and say, “Give me two trays of those begonias” without a please or thank you. If I don’t have the answer to their question fast enough, they roll their eyes and give an exasperated sigh; sometimes, I’ve barely gotten a chance to respond before they storm off saying, “NEVER MIND! I’ll find someone who knows!” And heaven help me if we are out of the very plant they drove “all the way out here” for. I’m held personally responsible, because I should’ve anticipated the demand.

I’m about to state an opinion that is extremely unpopular. Just hear me out before you massacre me. When we have difficult customers, 8 times out of 10, they are NOT our younger shoppers. They are the generation of people frequently ranting about how America is doomed because of those damn millennials. The people that yearn for “the good old days” when young people “had manners and showed some respect”. I am NOT saying that this behavior is typical of ALL customers older than me; quite the contrary. The vast majority of my elders are a total delight to interact with. I say all of that to say this: Don’t count the youngsters out. I’m tired of all the criticism the Gen Y-ers and Gen Z-ers are getting. It’s old and it is clichéd. Sure, you have studies and articles supporting your theory that millennials are THE WORST. I’m telling you that MY experience in retail has been that most millennials are friendly, well-mannered, excellent human beings. They want to learn, and they are thankful to us “seasoned” employees that are willing to share their wisdom. I’d like to tell you about some customers I observed recently.

A couple of weekends ago, we had a young family come into the greenhouse. Usually, we hear children coming before we see them. They’re chasing each other through the pottery and plant displays while their parents are focused on their landscape plans. This young couple had two little girls in tow; they looked to be about 4 years old and 2 years old. They rode on the cart, but once the cart became stationary, they got out to wander around. When one strayed a little too far from the parents, the kid was called back. When the kid didn’t respond, dad said, “I’m counting to 3”. He barely made it to 2 before the child ran back to him. The girls were getting a little whiny. I couldn’t blame them. The greenhouse is hot, and plant shopping as a kid is B O R I N G. Mom acknowledged that the girls were tired, so they should probably get going. They stopped to look at one more thing, and the youngest kid encroached on that invisible personal space line her older sister had established. The 4-year-old LOST. IT. Mom and dad exchanged the tired look that silently communicates, “I can’t believe our kids are causing a scene. Everyone in here must hate us right now.”  They turned back to the kids cool, calm, and in control. Mom crouched down and quietly said, “We are not going to do this.” The blood-curdling screams died down, and mom said, “There is no reason to be screaming like this. You’re screaming like someone ripped your arm off. Did someone rip your arm off?” The kid whimpered, “No”. Mom said, “Ok. We are going to walk to the register to pay for our stuff and then we’ll go home. Do you think you can hold it together long enough for us to do that?” The kid answered, “Yes.” Mom and dad walked out of the greenhouse. They stopped in perennials to look at one more plant, and I made my way over to them. I said to the dad, “Since I don’t think parents hear this often enough, I just wanted you to know that I think you are doing an awesome job.” He was kind of sheepish as he replied, “Thank you. Some days it sure doesn’t feel that way.” I said, “Oh I bet. But I think you’ve got this.” He said thank you again, and we went about our day.

Maybe the future isn’t as bleak as it seems. Maybe I just try too hard to put a positive spin on things. Maybe, as a parent, I’m hoping that I’ve raised an adult that’s equipped to face this big bad world while being a beacon of light to everyone she encounters. I refuse to accept that our youngsters are going to be this country’s undoing. I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt. I choose to be hopeful about the future.

Conservatorship

Today, a court decided that it would be in Pierce’s best interest to grant Tim and I conservatorship. This means that from this day forward, we are responsible for making any and all decisions regarding his welfare. It doesn’t really change our current way of life. Pierce has been dependent on us for nearly 21 years. But somehow, hearing a judge say that we were terminating his rights made his future feel determined and permanent. This is a process that we should’ve started three years ago when Pierce turned 18, but we were either daunted by the task or in denial that it actually needed to be done. We haven’t been challenged by many people when we’ve spoken for Pierce, but it has happened, and I can see this will be an issue as he continues to age. This is one more step in the journey to set up care for an adult son with autism. We still need to get the ball rolling on social security benefits, create a special needs trust, and figure out health insurance options. I opened a bank account for Pierce today. I had to show the court documents as proof that I can legally make financial decisions for my adult son. He will have a bank card with his name on it, but the account belongs to me and Tim. The home renovations that we’re planning to start soon will be in two phases. In phase two, we will give Pierce a more private place to live downstairs, in case living in a group home down the road doesn't work out. It will be similar to a mother-in-law suite.

This time last year, I was so mired in the bog of depression, I had no mental energy to be proactive in planning for Pierce’s future or keep track of graduation/college requirements for Reagan’s upcoming senior year. In counseling, I told Tim and my therapist that after 20 years of being the parent that stayed on top of things, knowing everyone’s schedules, what papers needed to be signed, how much money each child owed for clubs, youth activities, etc., I was tapping out. I’d gotten the kids through childhood, now I needed someone else to take over. Tim didn’t hesitate, question, or complain. He just said, “absolutely, yes, I will take the lead.” He took Pierce to get a picture ID (since Pierce doesn’t drive, he still didn’t have a legal form of identification at the age of 20). He researched college application deadlines for financial aid and housing for Reagan. He kept track of her schoolwork and grades and attended parent meetings. He got in touch with a lawyer and completed all of the paperwork that was necessary for us to seek conservatorship. I feel guilty for forcing Tim to take on such a burden, but I’m so grateful he’s been strong enough to carry it. 

It is sobering to have an official declaration that Pierce is not capable of making health or financial decisions for himself, but it’s also reassuring to know that his future is less uncertain than it was a year ago. This takes away a little of that panicky feeling I get when I think about what lies ahead for Pierce, me and Tim, and Reagan. I think we are slowly but surely headed in the right direction.

ABCs Of Dating

Tim and I have been going on weekly date nights for a couple of years. Not a lot of thought goes into these outings. Occasionally we'll decide to try some place new for dinner or check out the latest movie release, but mostly, we're quite boring and predictable. After the "Where do you want to eat?" question is posed by one of us and the other says "I don't know" or "It doesn't matter", we end up at one of our usual favorite eateries: Chuy's, Stout's, Local Taco, or Carrabba's. Then we walk around Target, Barnes and Noble, or TJ Maxx for an hour before hitting up Jeni's for ice cream. These dates are fine, but several months ago, I started feeling like we needed a boost to our repertoire. I wanted more than just okay (Switchfoot reference). Like so many of us women do, I perused Pinterest for ideas. Then, I was reminded of a series of Instagram posts from a couple that we know through church. They had planned their dates around the alphabet. Starting with the letter A, they picked food or restaurants and activities that started with a specific letter. I looked at the calendar and saw that there were about 26 weeks left in 2018. I thought it would be a fun challenge to try and get through the whole alphabet before 2019. I sat down and starting with the letter A, I wrote down every restaurant and activity I could think of for each letter. Then, Google became my friend. Before long, I had lists of possibilities. A few letters like K, Q, X, and Y were going to be tricky, but I was confident that I could come up with something creative.

We started this quest on July 1st, 2018. I posted pictures of our dates along the way on social media, and people really got into it. Friends and coworkers would text me ideas for upcoming date nights. I did most of the planning, but sometimes Tim and I would have to work together and think outside of the box to find appropriate items for the more complicated letters. We completed the Z date night on December 31st 2018/January 1st 2019. Due to popular demand, I have compiled all 27 date nights here. This was super fun, but it was not cheap. If I were to do it over again, I'd tackle one letter every month to save money. There are certainly cheaper alternatives to some of the outings we chose, so this can be done on a budget. Since this post would be huge if I added all of my pictures and summaries of each date night, I've included a link to the relevant Instagram post with each letter. You can also search #abcsofdating on Instagram to find all of these posts, as well as posts from the Duers (our inspiration for this adventure) and a few people I don't know. So without further ado, here are The ABCs of Dating!

A
Acme Feed and Seed (dinner)
Arboretum (activity)
Apple Dumplin' (dessert)
Adele (driving tunes)
A Date Night

B
Beach
B-52's, Bruno Mars, Beyoncé, Barenaked Ladies (driving tunes) 
I didn't give much of a summary on Instagram this time. Tim and I went to Miramar Beach for a few days.
B Date Night

C
Coco's Italian Market (dinner)
Costco (activity?)
Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee (activity)
Chocolate chip cookies and "cow juice" (dessert)
C Date Night

D
Daddy's Dogs (dinner)
Drum Corp show (activity)
Dairy Queen (dessert)
Dave Matthews (driving tunes)
D Date Night

E
Etch (dinner)
Entertainment (Dave Barnes at the Ryman)
Empanadas, caramel apple (dessert)
Ed Sheeran (driving tunes)
E Date Night

F
Five Guys
Fair
Fried Oreos
Foo Fighters
F Date Night

G
Gray and Dudley (dinner)
Grand Ole Opry (activity)
Gelato (dessert)
Genesis, George Michael, Grace Potter, Gwen Stefani (driving tunes) 
G Date Night

H
House of Cards (dinner and activity)
Hot fudge sundaes (dessert)
Harry Connick, Jr. and Hootie and the Blowfish (driving tunes)
H Date Night

I
Inglewood restaurant (Fort Louise)
Inked (activity)
Ice cream
I Date Night

J
Jet's Pizza (dinner)
Jessica Biel (The Sinner on Netflix)
Jeni's Ice Cream (dessert)
J Date Night

K
"Kute Kritters" (otter encounter at North Georgia Zoo. Tim had to stretch to make this fit under K)
Krispy Kreme
K Date Night

L
Love (Wedding) 
Love song playlist
L Date Night

M
Martin's Bar-b-Que (dinner)
McKay's Used Books (activity)
Milkshakes (dessert)
Maroon 5 (driving tunes)
M Date Night

N
Nada (dinner)
Netflix (activity)
No Doubt (driving tunes)
N Date Night

O
Little Octopus (dinner)
0s (dessert: Fox's Donut Den)
October (donut and hot cocoa outside by the fire pit)
O Date Night

P
Peter's Sushi and Thai (dinner)
Pumpkin carving (activity)
Pumpkin dump cake (dessert)
Paramore (tunes)
P Date Night

Q
Qdoba (dinner)
Queen movie (activity: Bohemian Rhapsody)
Quinoa black rice dark chocolate (dessert? GROSS)
Queen (driving tunes)
Q Date Night

R
RH Café (dinner)
Restoration Hardware (activity)
Reese's (dessert)
Red Hot Chili Peppers (driving tunes)
R Date Night

S
Silo (Sunday brunch)
Stroll
State Museum (activity)
St. Paul and the Broken Bones (driving tunes)
S Date Night

T
Tuesday Trivia Night (dinner and activity)
T Date Night

U
Urban Grub (brunch)
Urbanites (activity: walked around East Nashville)
Urban Outfitters 
U2 (driving tunes)
U Date Night

V
Vittles (lunch)
Vacation planning (activity)
V Date Night

W
Wedding anniversary
Weekend getaway
Winter in Miami
Wynwood Walls
W Date Night

X
X-mas party (dinner, activity, dessert)
X Date Night

Y
Yat's (dinner)
Yazoo Brewery (activity)
Y Date Night

Z
Zaxby's (dinner)
Zinfandel and card games (activity)
Zero (countdown to 2019)
Z Date Night

The question I've been getting now is, what's next? We're already entering the 3rd month of 2019 and I have yet to come up with a plan. I am open to any suggestions. I do know that I'd like to keep things relatively low-cost. We have some big plans for 2019 (major home renovation, an extensive family vacation for Reagan's senior trip, and college...HAVE. MERCY.) that will all be pretty pricey, so I'd like to save where I can. I'm thinking maybe one dinner a month on the nicer side instead of every week as we have been doing. So, cheap dates...whatcha got?