Giving up gifts for the holidays

Giving up gifts for the holidays

Oh no it's an empty box!It won’t be that drastic this first year but it’s coming (someone warn my kids). I am sick of toys and clutter and excess. I am disgusted with the fact that my husband and I cleaned out our kid’s toy box and found toys that had never really been played with. The thrill of my children unwrapping presents on Christmas morning seems to be forgotten by the new year. It needs to be different, and I need to be the one to do it.

I don’t go into rants with my kids about how little I had at their age or how lucky they have it. To be honest I have been the responsible party here by overdoing it with gifts in years past. Guilt does that to me. Guilt for being a crazy working parents that travel or works insane hours. Guilt for having to say ‘just put yourself to bed’ some nights because I’ve got a deadline. The guilt over not having enough as a kid myself. The heartbreak I see that children both in my own country and around the world live every day – and probably don’t even realize it. Hell, I even have really good friends that never seem to have enough for their kids.

The way I see it is if I don’t break the cycle with my own children their chances of growing up to become compassionate adults is slim. They are compassionate children but they are still children. Their gluttonous, pages-long Christmas wish lists tells me I’ve made very big mistakes along the way. This year I am making progress to fix that.

I am exchanging gifts for experiences. Some (many) people I’m sure will say I am just swapping out many paper-wrapped indulgences for one large one that requires a plane ticket. Maybe. But the fact is that I had very little growing up and my husband and I can now moderately afford to provide more for our own kids. So instead of buying crappy little toys to wrap and put under the tree just to find stuffed in the couch by March, we are taking them on a vacation. To Disney World and Universal (Harry Potter to be specific). We will get to spend five days with each other, mostly uninterrupted by phone calls and technology, and we will have shared experiences together that I hope know will be better than some dumb plastic toy. I will take lots of pictures and video and turn those into books and DVDs for them to watch and enjoy through the year (and the rest of their lives) – those will go under the tree with a very reduced number of gifts. At least I know those gifts won’t get stuffed in couch cushions.

The more important part to all this is they also take time and do things for others that are in a less-fortunate situation than they are. I needed to pick something physically close to home to they can actually participate and see first hand. What I’ve come up with is to make little presents for other children that we will distribute at my grandmother’s nursing home (we call their great-grandmother ‘Mousha’). This way the other residents at the home that have great/grandkids will have gifts to give to them. While this isn’t doing much to help kids in third-world countries, this is an act of giving and compassion they can see and understand. My son is 4 and my daughter is 10. They will both understand this.

So, any ideas on what type of craft can I have both my kids make that would be appropriate for kids of any age? Since I don’t know the ages of any potential recipients I need them make ‘all-purpose’ gifts. Candy and food is hard because of allergies so I’m leery of that.

And, in case I forget to say it later… Happy Holidays.

Bullies Leave Scars

To say I have zero tolerance for bullying is an understatement.

I was horribly bullied in early high school and beat up several times. Once I was hit so hard in the face my tooth sliced through by my lip – I still have a scar. Girls threatened me and beat me up, boys harassed and teased me and shoved me in lockers. Older kids would pretend to be nice just to laugh at me when their friends were around to be an audience. Every single day of my life was like walking through hell with a gallon of gasoline in my hair.

Twice I went to an adult (both teachers), was refused help, and told that “it’s just part of adolescence.” Sometimes I hear people (who I assume have not been bullied) say that kids that are bullied feel invisible. No, we don’t, that would be a blessing. Kids that are bullied feel like a burning hot target every minute of their lives. If the internet was around the way it is now when I was a kid, I have no doubt I wouldn’t be typing this right now. I might very well be dead.

I feel empathetic to younger kids that haven’t exactly set their moral compass yet, there’s still time to set themselves right. In my opinion bullies – teenage and older – damn well know what they are doing is wrong and illegal. Speaking up to the bullies and to other adults in order to find an ally was one of the most important things I had done for myself. Maybe, like you Chris, it’s why I find myself with such a strong voice today.

I left this as a comment on Chris Pirillo’s post he wrote about being bullied as a kid. After thinking about it, I thought it was important enough to find a place on my own blog, so here it is.

Autumn and winter – and the holidays that go with it – tend to be a tipping point for some that are dealing (or not dealing) with things like depression, bullying, or intolerance in their lives. It’s not just younger people that have a difficult time, older more ‘life experienced’ folks in their 40s and 50s and beyond struggle to cope as well. Online it’s easy to hide feelings and appear manic all the time. Super easy. It’s also easy to get lost in the shuffle and overlooked even when using online tools (like Google+, Twitter, or Facebook) to reach out for help. Chris Brogan wrote up an amazing article about this very topic, and this along with the other Chris’ post made me want to tell the small bit of story above that I did.

Kids being bullied have it worse than I did because today’s bully can use the Internet and social channels as a weapon, where I only had to deal with bullies when I physically saw them. (The fear of seeing them was with me 24/7). Adults that have little support in their lives (or at least feel they don’t have any support) can’t really rely on the social friendships online to find help and solace. Social media seems to be either omnipresent and overwhelming or an empty echo chamber of solitude. It’s not a good place in either case.

Offline, in real life, is where the changes need to happen. I’m a much stronger person now, maybe in part because I was so viciously bullied and assaulted growing up. Most everything I do is fueled by a need and obsession to be better than type of person who made me feel so worthless. I want to reach out and help people, all the time, honestly a lot of times to the point where I’m giving too much. I want to take every person who feels they have no voice and teach them how to make their own bullhorn and say what needs to be said – for business, personal or professional reasons. (I was steamrolled early in my career by bosses as well, and learned how to stand up for myself in a professional environment too.)

Bullies leave scars. Sometimes physical as in my case, more times they are emotional. Those are the ones that I think change the very make up of a person and alter who they are for the rest of their lives.  While preventing the bullying in the first place is always the right thing to do, helping people get through it and survive it – thrive – is just as important.

After surviving being bullied, I had a hard time making friends or trusting that a friendship was genuine and not a ploy to mock me. I still fear – 25 years later – that I am not liked or accepted or that people are talking behind my back and really dislike me despite what they say to my face. It seems narcissistic to think everyone is talking about me, but it’s something I can’t shake. I am horribly shy in person when I don’t know the people very well, and I have been told on many occasions that people mistake that for aloofness and conceit. I’ve lived in my town for 13 years and don’t have anyone local I could really call a friend.  At my kids school functions (one being in preschool the other in elementary school) I hover around my kids doting on them partly so I don’t have to interact with other parents. At 40 years old I’ve come to accept that my fear has prevented me from knowing how to make friends in person. I actually avoid in person events because after 13 years it’s honestly embarrassing that I’ve not befriended one person from my town. Online is easy-peasy for me. I can be “me” for some reason, but in the real world it’s frightening.

The internet is just illusions and mirrors filled with  fear and greatness and security and danger. At 40 years old I really need to figure out how to do the ‘meatspace’ thing if only for the sake of my kids. Having them grow up seeing that the majority of my ‘friendships’ are based with people inside the iMac on my desk probably isn’t healthy. I do get to see ‘my gals’ from time to time in person, but my kids don’t get to see those relationships. I think they could use the role model, especially my 10 year old daughter.

I’m not sure there is much point to this except to just say it. No answers, just a small part of my story and some thoughts. Bullies today seem to have more power (zero tolerance laws don’t really address the causes, just the symtoms in my opinion) and it’s just so much harder now. It can be survived, it can be eliminated, and you can thrive and be amazing. That’s how I choose to view it for myself anyhow.  So… just thanks ;-)

Ten Years Later

Ten Years Later

My 9/11 story is one of luck and gratitude.

I spent September 11, 2001 at home with my newborn daughter and husband who should have been at work that day in a building across from the World Trade Center in New York City. He stayed home with me ‘just one more day’ to help with a colicky newborn. Up early feeding the baby, I usually sat myself in the recliner watching television to pass the time. I don’t even remember what I was watching before the news station cut in and announced a plane had crashed into one of the towers. Once I realized where and what building it hit, I ran to get my husband up. We watched together as the second plane hit. And the third in DC. And the fourth in a field in Pennsylvania. Now I remember every minute of every day for the weeks that followed.

My husband spent the day split between watching television with me and chatting online with the spouses of old co-workers looking for some information on their husbands. Sadly none of the news would be good. Based on when the planes hit and the towers fell, my husband would have lost his life beneath the buildings on his way to work. It took years before either of us were comfortable working in New York again.

If he had been at work that day instead of home with his family, chances are things would be very different in my life right now.

……

This past Friday our daughter came home from school anxious to tell us about everything she had learned in school about the 9/11 attacks. She decided to tell me this in the car on our way out someplace, and it took every ounce of strength I have not to break down and cry in the car.

“Mom, did you know that planes hit the two big buildings and killed people in the planes and at their jobs?”

“Mom, it was real, I watched it on a video.”

“Mom, did you know there was a forth plane that crashed in Pennsylvania and those people took back the plane from the terrorists and were so brave to crash the plane all by themselves instead of hurting others?”

“Mom, why would someone want to hurt all those people?”

Yes. I know. I know that it happened. I saw it on the news, and saw the smoke outside myself. I lost friends. I know why people want to hurt others, too, but I don’t want to tell her all of it. Not yet. Not at 10 years old. Not ever, but this isn’t possible any longer.

I know why I haven’t sat her down and talked to her specifically about the attacks. It has existed her entire life. This is her status quo. It is too hard for me to speak out loud. I don’t know what I will do tomorrow, the 10th anniversary of the attacks. None of this is about me, it is all about my two kids at this point. Teaching them to honor and remember something that they have no memory of — but I do.

Ten years later we look at our smart and beautiful 10 year old daughter and our (almost) 4 year old son with amazement and thanks – and know if my husband had not skipped work that day our son wouldn’t even exist.

Overloading on Projects

Overloading on Projects

*head desk*Depending on where you ‘follow’ me I either look like I’ve fallen off the planet or taken over the planet. In the eight short weeks since Google+ has hit the streets in ‘limited field trial’ mode I’ve been on a mission. After getting an invite to Google+ on the first day it was open to the limited public, I started Women of Google+ and have been spending my time trying to build a community there as well as keep up with all the other projects that fell on my lap.

I don’t think I was specific enough when I ‘asked the universe’ for something different.  I was overloaded on projects and wanted something different, so I decided to cut back and refocus. What happened instead was I wound up with three more volunteer projects. So, here I am, still no business partner because I haven’t had a moment to breathe. In the meantime I’ve decided to take the advice of very dear friends and get an intern or two. I had steered away from the idea in the past because I had seen companies use interns for free labor and put them in charge of very public, very forward-facing social media projects that made my teeth clench. Throwing someone with very little real-world business experience into the wilds of Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube just didn’t seem humane … or business savvy. I have always loved being in teaching roles, so when I flipped the idea of interns around in my brain for a bit, I realized that it could be a short-term solution for the crushing amount of work I have right now as well as showing others ‘the ropes.’

Right now outside of my own Women of Google+ project, I have PodCamp Philly, PodCamp LA, and Podcast Pavilion – as well as Social Media Club Princeton. Trying to wrangle a team of volunteers and speakers from the opposite side of the country is an exercise in patience to say the least. I have an emergency Red Bull in the fridge for times just like this. I should probably go drink it now.

As I’ve said before, being a ‘solopreneur’ is a tough gig, and I’m not really wanting to go it alone any longer. In my need to make everyone happy (but me) I’m burning the candle at both ends and not really living much of a life outside work and volunteer obligations. I’ve had a lot of people reach out and want to work with me, but not in the capacity I need right now. I need someone to work with me and get new projects, launch Women of Google+ properly, and work on business development. At this point I can’t even concentrate on anything other than Women of Google+ for ‘work’ projects until the beginning of December. I don’t own my own time until then, I’ve given it all away.

Focus. Balance. These are the things I’m learning in quantity and quality lately. That, and just how much coffee my 40 year old body can take without having heart palpitations.