Nanny Tells All!

You've seen it at the grocery store, right? The latest ripped-from-reality expose of famous parents and their kids, told by the nanny/housekeeper/gardener/tutor/insert-function-here.
Makes me think: Is there a single one of us who'd want a member of our family (since most of us don't have staff) to go public with their real life stories? I certainly wouldn't want my temper tantrums, sarcasm, rudeness and occasional immaturity put out into the public arena. 
And yet as human beings, that's what we're drawn to--tales of other people's failings. Is it because we can measure ourselves against outrageous behavior and feel relieved? After all, we're not that bad. I might drop the occasional F-bomb, but at least I'm not allowing my under-age kids to drink. Or to drive one of our many cars around the estate (yeah, okay, we don't have an estate. but still...). 
I'm not that bad.
We're not that bad.
Are we?
Given money and fame and adulation, surrounded by people who we pay to tell us what we want to hear, insulated from many of life's inconveniences, how would we be? Who would we be?
Would we be that bad?

Seven Great Things About Teenagers (and preteens, too)

Yeah, right. But hang on...
1. Teenagers force you to examine your cozy little assumptions.
There you are, going about your daily life, meeting work deadlines, doing laundry, planning next spring's garden, la la la la la---WHAM! Veganism! Laptops for 11-year-olds! Religion! Animal rights! Skateboarders' rights! Politics! Purple hair dye! Clothing! Relationships! 
2. Teenagers are hilarious.
Goofy, occasionally childlike, willing to look ridiculous if it makes them laugh (teens are not above posting video of themselves dressed up as woolly mammoths and cavemen), clever with wordplay, endlessly creative, occasionally sarcastic (see #3, below).
3. Teenagers are cruel.
And when they are, remember, acknowledge, and examine the times in your life when you've been cruel. Great reality check.
4. Teenagers demand accountability.
Don't want them to swear? Stop swearing. Repeat ad infinitum, with everything: eating junk food, lying, cheating, cleaning your room, hanging up your towel, and owning up to that time you broke every rule in the book when you and a few dozen friends snuck into the university pool at 2:00 AM.
5. Teenagers are passionate.
Remember what it was like to get all worked up about stuff? If you can regain that passion (without the exhausting drama and hormones), it can change your life, no matter how old you are, no matter how set in your ways you've become, no matter how scared you are of failing.
6. Teenagers dream big.
Semester at Sea. Juilliard. Harvard, Yale, MIT, Berkeley. Book contracts. Movie contracts. World travel. World transformation. Long-lasting romantic love. Delectable vegan brownies (probably the most impossible item on this list).
7. Teenagers work hard.
Babysitting, lifeguarding, flipping burgers, digging compost, stacking firewood, endless piles of homework, team sports, team projects, being cheerful (remember what hard work that was as a teen? OUCH!), making polite conversation when guests are over for dinner (again: OUCH!), dragging through life sleep-deprived because the teen circadian rhythm is not set to coincide with getting up at Oh Dark Thirty to catch carpool/subway/bus/train/whatever during the school year. 
8. Bonus Item! Teenagers force us to remember and to give thanks.
Remember when the world seemed big and welcoming. Remember when our options seemed wide open. Remember back to when the grooves in our brain weren't worn quite so deeply. And...give thanks for the choices we've made, the options we've turned down, the grooves we've worn, the insight we've gained.


What can you add that's great about teenagers and preteens? Leave it in the comments below. And as always, if you have a question for Mrs. Ditter, leave it in the comments or email at mrsditter@gmail.com. Anonymity guaranteed.

It's Been HOW Long?

Well. All I can say is, between a few unexpected medical issues (one of which required an overnight stay in the hospital which OF COURSE happened when my husband was out of town and yes, thank you, I'm totally fine), a kitchen fire that totally destroyed the microwave and proved just how wonderful firefighters truly are, the typical end of school chaos, the four days devoted to dance recital, the start of swim team, the demand of the 15-year-old to be sent to an early-entrance college program, and an unexpected flurry of extremely quick-turnaround writing projects (note to Universe: I AM NOT COMPLAINING. I AM GRATEFUL FOR THE WORK. PLEASE SEND MORE AS IT SEEMS I MIGHT BE PAYING COLLEGE TUITION THREE YEARS EARLY, ALSO THE CAR NEEDS A LOT OF WORK, AND DID I MENTION THE HOSPITAL BILLS?), it has indeed been three months since I've posted. And we are heading into the middle part of summer, even if this morning it was 52 degrees and raining at swim team practice. 


So anyway, hi to all you wonderful blog readers, and when I think of something profound to write, I will. Until then, be happy that your life is not such that one of your brothers thoughtfully offered to set fire to a kitchen appliance in your honor.

Pre-Summer Mothering Angst, or How Can I Enjoy the Spring Flowers When Summer is Looming Over Me Like a Big Horrible Scary Looming Thing

Dear Mrs. Ditter: Summer is coming. And school will be out. And I am IN TOTAL DREAD of it. I feel terribly guilty, but I feel DOOMED DOOMED DOOMED by the thought of summer and kid(s) at home and everything else that goes with it . . . carpools, constantly changing schedules of camps and lessons, making endless breakfasts, lunches and dinners (for which I have no new ideas), taking the kids to the pool (and having to appear in my swimsuit), "fun" family trips and all the stress those entail. What's wrong with me? I must be a terrible mother. I used to love summer. I should be looking forward to spending all that time with my offspring. . . . in cranky and awful early adolescence, by the way. Should I be fired from this mothering job? Thanks, Ms. Pickle.

Dear Ms. Pickle, HAH! Are you sure you didn't mean "Could I be fired from this mothering job? Please? PLEASE?" and the answer is, "Sorry, honey. You will be a mom until your dying breath, and then probably for quite a while longer. Like, all eternity. So suck it up. Plus, you'd miss them if they weren't around."

Continuing to take your points in backward order, there is nothing wrong with you. At least I don't think there is. But then I could have written this letter myself (note to all loyal readers: No, I don't make up the letters that I answer here. But this one? Totally could have come from me). I do know a few women who love having the long summer; love the unstructured days; love the freedom to do just about anything, any time; love the family trips. I also know that these women have 1) more money than I do, and they 2) travel more than I do, and also that 3) their kids tend to get along with each other really well. I think that last point is more important than the first two. Also, I've noticed that parents who have extended family nearby, or who live in neighborhoods where the kids all run around together, seem to be happier about the long summer vacation. But most of the stay-at-home parents I know struggle with the same feelings you have. So cut yourself some slack.

Next: Of course you used to love summer! You used to be a goofy kid; a teen with no responsibilities; a college student with summers off from school and a no-brainer job; a 20-something with a hot body and lots of energy. Summer was FUN! Summer was the beach and the sun and the smell of Coppertone and hooting at cute young men. Boy, those were great times. *sigh* Is summer still so uncomplicated? No, I didn't think so.

Next, "I should be looking forward to spending all that time with my offspring." No, you shouldn't. You either are, or you aren't (most likely, you're feeling some combination). Telling yourself you SHOULD be feeling something is ridiculous, unproductive, untrue and hurtful. You're feeling what you're feeling. End of story. 

Also next. Just because you take the kids to the pool does not mean you have to appear in a swimsuit. And, reality check: Most of those moms at the pool probably look a little lumpy, a little softer than they used to be, a little...saggy. Stop looking at yourself and just get in the water and have fun. Or hang on a chair and read. Don't worry about anyone looking at you, because they most likely aren't. Remember that old quote: You wouldn't spend so much time worrying about what people thought about you if you realized how seldom they did? That applies here. Take it to heart. It's your path to freedom, poolside.

I'm not going to give you recipes, or camp ideas, or carpool suggestions, other than to point out that if your children are in "early and awful adolescence" they are old enough to prepare at least one of their meals every day (bowl of cereal, sandwich), and perhaps each one of them could make dinner one night a week. Also: teach them how to do laundry this summer. You won't regret it. 

So what are you going to do? You are going to enjoy what's left of the school year (translation: do things for yourself while the kids are in school), realize that you're probably going to have some rough spots this summer, and make sure you have at least one good friend to whom you can moan and complain.

Finally, on June 15th, write the following wise words on the back of your hand in Sharpie: This Too Shall Pass.

As always, thanks for reading. Comments, questions: leave them in the Comments section below, or you can leave me a question at mrsditter@gmail.com.

In Which Mrs. Ditter Feels Totally Confused

Dear Mrs. Ditter, To start, that is the question. How do you keep yourself from not beginning? And then how do you keep yourself from not following through? And what about the middle...the boring stuff it seems, with no gratification at all. I have been putting off posting this for months as I searched and searched and I have not been able to find the answer. I sit, therefore, I am. Is that who I am destined to be?


Okay, Obliquely Questioning One, hang on a moment while I grab some caffeine and ponder your conundrum.
Let's start with the last bit: "I sit, therefore I am. Is that who I am destined to be?"
I would suggest you try out this statement instead: "I am, therefore I am." Because--you are. We all just plain are. Sitting, standing, meditating, eating, walking the dog, hollering at our loved ones, laughing, sweeping the floor --we ARE.
As far as being destined for anything, my own personal jury is out on that one. I'm not entirely certain that we come into this world "destined" to be anyone in particular, other than who we are. And I think who we are is, in large part, up to us to find out. And to create. And to change, if we see the need for change (and sometimes the need for change is a subtle whisper in our ears, and sometimes it's a big guy on a tractor crashing down our front door).
Okay, that was the easy stuff. As far as the first part of your inquiry, hmm. You've got me stumped. As a writer, my problem is NOT with "not following through." The beginnings are easy but the following through presents more challenge.
For what are you searching? The meaning of life? Does life have to have a meaning, or are we free to just live it as best we can, given our circumstances (health, environment, education level, income, genetic predisposition to mood swings, etc.)?
I feel as if I'm totally missing the point here, but I offer the following links for those inclined to explore:


The Work with Byron Katie
The Tapping Solution

Gratefulness.org, a Network for Grateful Living



Let me know how it goes.


Questions? Conundrums? Comments? Leave them in the comments box, below, or email me at mrsditter@gmail.com.


And as always, thanks for reading.

School Friends...Or Not

Dear Mrs. Ditter,
There's this girl who's really nice and we're friends, but this incident keeps happening: I'll ask her, "Hey, do you want to sit together on the bus?" every once in a while, and she'll say "Sure!" and then we'll get on the bus and she'll go and sit with someone else. It's not entirely her fault, because there are these two girls who stick to her like velcro and if she tries to sit with someone else they'll go, "Aw, come on! Sit with us!" and she'll say she'll sit with me next time and then goes and sits with them. I don't want to appear clingy and say "You never sit with me!" but honestly, I'm starting to get pretty pissed with those other two girls. They seriously won't let her sit anywhere but with them!
Signed, Pissed :(


Dear Pissed, Oh, boy. I can see why you're ticked off. I also wonder if you aren't feeling hurt, as well? Even as adults, it hurts when people you think are your friends treat you in a way that you wouldn't treat them (yes, Mrs. Ditter is speaking from experience. Ouch!). 
So just take a deep breath and admit to yourself that while this makes you angry, it also hurts. That's normal and human and totally understandable.
Got that deep breath? Okay, let's tackle this thing.
When I read your letter, three things stuck out: 1) you say this girl is really nice and you're friends with her; 2) you're angry with the other girls; 3) you don't want to look clingy. 
1) I don't know her, so I don't know if she's nice or not. But I have to say that her behavior, at least about the bus-riding, doesn't sound very friendly. She certainly isn't being friendly to you when she says one thing and then does another. Would you treat a friend that way? Probably not. 
I understand that she must have some really good qualities, otherwise you wouldn't like her so much. But it sounds as if she's not very reliable, at least as far as keeping her word about bus-riding goes.
2) Now, moving on to the anger bit: If you're going to be angry with someone, be angry with the person who broke a commitment to you. Take a look at your last sentence: "They seriously won't let her sit anywhere but with them!" Really? Are they in charge of where she sits? Isn't her decision where she sits HER decision, not theirs? If you don't like those other two girls, it's understandable that you'd want to blame them. But it's not their fault (even if they're really obnoxious and you'd like to throw moldy cheese at them).
I wonder why you're not angry with her? Are you scared of being angry with her? Is she one of those really popular kids who everybody likes? 
Sometimes we're scared of being angry with really popular people because we think it says something bad about us. IT DOESN'T. 
3) Finally, you're absolutely right that you don't want to look clingy. Of course you don't want to say something like, "You never sit with me!" No one wants to be a whiner! And you really don't want her to sit with you because she feels guilty. That's not a good basis for a friendship.
So what to do? 
I see several options. Use any or all or none--it's your choice!
A) Stop asking her to sit with you on the bus. Easy. Situation over.
B) Be honest with her. Tell her you feel upset when she says she'll sit with you, and then doesn't. ONLY do this if you can do it calmly. ONLY do this if you can do it without saying mean things about the other two girls. 
C) Take a little bit of time and think about something: If a friend of yours came to you with this exact situation, what would you tell her?
D) Finally, I think it's really important that you remember this: You don't have to stop liking her as a friend, or tell yourself that she's bad, or mean, or anything like that. But you might want to have a bus-riding friend who's a little more dependable and reliable. That might be a girl who isn't the most popular kid in the class...and you may be surprised how much you can grow to like someone whom you're overlooking right now!
Thanks for writing, and please let me know how it goes. I'll be thinking about you.
Questions? Conundrums? Comments? Leave them in the comment box, below, or email me at mrsditter@gmail.com.
And as always, thanks for reading.

Honoring a Deceased Parent's Birthday

Today's topic clearly falls into the "Not That You Asked" category, but I'll bet I'm not the only one who celebrates her parents' birthdays...even though they're no longer living.

My mom would be 90 today if she were still alive, and yes, if you're doing the math, that means she had me late in life. Those seven kids she had before producing me? Clearly, just warm-ups for the main attraction. 

Anyway, where was I? Mom. Right. And her birthday. And what, if anything, I do to commemorate it.

Over the last three years, I've done a variety of things on Mom's birthday. As best I can remember, they include the following:

1. Talk to her. Yeah, I talk to my dead mom. On her birthday, it's usually along the lines of "Thanks for having one last kid, and thanks for all the hard work you put in." Other days, I might be hollering at her for some leftover childhood piece of unfinished business. But I talk to her.

2. Write to her. Same as #1, only in letter form.

3. Email my siblings, who were the backbone of my childhood and are still part of the rock I stand on. Okay, that's an awkward mental image, given that backbones don't usually turn into rocks, but you get the idea.

4. Visit the cemetery and pour a little Starbucks on her grave. Really. She and Dad loved the luxury of going to Starbucks and getting a mocha.

5. Bring flowers from my yard and leave them on the grave.

6. Call her best friend.

7. Light a candle, either in real life or at Gratefulness.org, a terrific online community based on the teachings of Brother David Steindl-Rast and his colleagues. It's a network for grateful living (ANGeL, get it?). Check out this link of Br. David reading a short Billy Collins poem. Which has nothing to do with my mother's birthday, except she LOVED Br. David and loved poetry.

8. Sing "Happy Birthday" to her.

How about you? Any dead parents out there? What, if anything, do you do to remember them on their birthdays? 

Comments, questions, conundrums...leave them in the comments box, below.

You can also contact me at mrsditter@gmail.com.

And as always, thanks for reading.