Tag / lessons

by Kelly Mattei

Imposter Adult

Imposter adult.

When my college-age daughter was home for the holidays, at some point, she asked me if I feel old. I laughed. I’m 56, which I don’t really consider “old,” but I know anyone over 30 seems old to her. I told her the truth: No, I do not feel old. Sometimes I feel just like I did at her age. Other times, I want to be in my pajamas at 6pm. But overall, I don’t even really feel like an adult. A friend recently posted on Facebook, “People often mistake me for an adult because of my age.” I get you, girl.

I feel like an imposter as an adult.

I know other people have experienced “imposter syndrome,” because there’s a name for it. I think lots of people feel like imposters at work. I never really felt like an imposter when I worked outside the home, and I don’t really feel like an imposter as a mom. I simply feel like as an imposter as an adult.

When I told my daughter this, she gave me one of those sideways looks. She probably said, “Bruh,” even though I’m her mom and not her “bruh.” (It seems to be the word of the moment. I’m still using “dude,” but I guess I need to try to switch to “bruh.”) I went on to explain to her what I meant: I still have a young attitude, for the most part. I still like to try to jump and touch things that appear unreachable. That beam across a ceiling in a parking garage? I want to try to jump and touch it. I’m just a couple inches over five feet, so it’s usually a stretch, but at 56, I still like to try! I love rollercoasters. I hate going to the grocery store. I like to do cannonballs into the pool. I like to go to college bars. I like to stay up late, even though I, generally speaking, don’t want to stay out late. I want to go to speakeasies. I like to go to concerts. I still understand why teenagers and college students enjoy the things they do. I don’t necessarily have to join in on a game of beer pong (even though I have before), but I understand why they enjoy it. Most of all, I love good energy, and I love to laugh. There’s not a lot of fun in adulting. Bills? Responsibilities? I take care of business, but I prefer not to think about those responsibilities all the time.

Do I know I’m not 21 anymore? Yes. Do I sometimes feel like I’m 21? You bet! Would I go back to being 21 again? Maybe. I wouldn’t go back any younger than that, but I would probably be willing to go back to 21. It would be a lot more fun if I could go back to 21 with the “wisdom” I have at 56. I could avoid some of the mistakes I made along the way. Or would I? Those mistakes are part of who I am. They taught me valuable lessons.

Even with all that “wisdom” and those “valuable lessons,” I still feel like a little girl playing grownup most of the time. My parents simply seemed so much more grown up than I do…in my mind, anyway. Perhaps they felt like they were imposters as adults too? I never asked, and they’re no longer with us.

Shout out to all my fellow imposters!

by Kelly Mattei

Imposter Adult

Imposter adult.

When my college-age daughter was home for the holidays, at some point, she asked me if I feel old. I laughed. I’m 56, which I don’t really consider “old,” but I know anyone over 30 seems old to her. I told her the truth: No, I do not feel old. Sometimes I feel just like I did at her age. Other times, I want to be in my pajamas at 6pm. But overall, I don’t even really feel like an adult. A friend recently posted on Facebook, “People often mistake me for an adult because of my age.” I get you, girl.

I feel like an imposter as an adult.

I know other people have experienced “imposter syndrome,” because there’s a name for it. I think lots of people feel like imposters at work. I never really felt like an imposter when I worked outside the home, and I don’t really feel like an imposter as a mom. I simply feel like as an imposter as an adult.

When I told my daughter this, she gave me one of those sideways looks. She probably said, “Bruh,” even though I’m her mom and not her “bruh.” (It seems to be the word of the moment. I’m still using “dude,” but I guess I need to try to switch to “bruh.”) I went on to explain to her what I meant: I still have a young attitude, for the most part. I still like to try to jump and touch things that appear unreachable. That beam across a ceiling in a parking garage? I want to try to jump and touch it. I’m just a couple inches over five feet, so it’s usually a stretch, but at 56, I still like to try! I love rollercoasters. I hate going to the grocery store. I like to do cannonballs into the pool. I like to go to college bars. I like to stay up late, even though I, generally speaking, don’t want to stay out late. I want to go to speakeasies. I like to go to concerts. I still understand why teenagers and college students enjoy the things they do. I don’t necessarily have to join in on a game of beer pong (even though I have before), but I understand why they enjoy it. Most of all, I love good energy, and I love to laugh. There’s not a lot of fun in adulting. Bills? Responsibilities? I take care of business, but I prefer not to think those responsibilities all the time.

Do I know I’m not 21 anymore? Yes. Do I sometimes feel like I’m 21? You bet! Would I go back to being 21 again? Maybe. I wouldn’t go back any younger than that, but I would probably be willing to go back to 21. It would be a lot more fun if I could go back to 21 with the “wisdom” I have at 56. I could avoid some of the mistakes I made along the way. Or would I? Those mistakes are part of who I am. They taught me valuable lessons.

Even with all that “wisdom” and those “valuable lessons,” I still feel like a little girl playing grownup most of the time. My parents simply seemed so much more grown up than I do…in my mind, anyway. Perhaps they felt like they were imposters as adults too? I never asked, and they’re no longer with us.

Shout out to all my fellow imposters!

by Kelly Mattei

Do It Now

Do it now.

My dad died at age 68 in 2006 after a battle with pancreatic cancer. As he lay dying, he reminded me to live my life. He reminded me to do the things I want to do…enjoy life!

Eleven years later, when I turned 50, I was talking with my mother and said, “I might only have 20 years that I can get around really well. I need to make sure I’m traveling to the places I want to go.” She looked at me with a sweet smile and reminded me, “When your daddy was your age, he didn’t have 20 years left. You need to make sure you are doing the things you want to do now and visiting the places you want to visit now.”

Mother died about six months after that conversation, but I remember her words every time I think of somewhere I want to go or something I want to see…and they mean even more now.

Six weeks ago, I was stricken with sciatica. I was just standing in my kitchen, and my back and leg started hurting. I wasn’t doing anything unusual. OK, so I was cooking, and maybe that’s unusual, but nothing strenuous. I thought, at the time, that it was just a weird backache. I went to the grocery store the next day, and while I was there, it started hurting so badly I could barely get through the store! A few days later, I went to Miami with my family, and for two solid days, I could barely walk…I shuffled like a 100-yr-old woman! The pain was real! In fact, the pain is still real six weeks later. It’s better, but it’s real. I have purchased almost everything I can think of to improve it, and some of it helps. I will list some items at the bottom of the page.

As silly as it sounds, when I first realized I had sciatica, visions of upcoming trips flashed before my eyes. Yes! That’s the truth! At the time, I had several vacations ahead of me. Since then, I have taken three of them, and honestly, I feel pretty sure those didn’t help my sciatica. I enjoyed the trips, even though I had to take some breaks from walking, but I didn’t give my back much time to rest. Hauling heavy luggage, even if it’s on wheels, is not the best thing for a back injury. We have another trip in a week, and this is the first time I’ve had two full weeks between trips. I’m resting my back a lot more but still walking a few miles a day (in small increments), and I’m hoping the sciatica will go away before a big trip in October. Did I say “hoping”? I mean praying. It’s slowly getting better, but I do feel like it’s improving.

Having sciatica has taught me a lot. It has taught me more compassion for people living with chronic pain. If you’ve never had chronic pain, it’s difficult to understand exactly how much it affects daily life. While dealing with sciatica, I have sat through entire conversations pretending to listen, simply because I couldn’t think of much more than the pain. Having sciatica has also reinforced what my parents told me: do it now! I remember Daddy telling me that we only get one life…no dress rehearsals…we need to make it good!

So here I am, on day 45 of sciatica. It’s better but not completely well. I have been to the doctor, and she told me it will definitely get better…with exercise, rest, and time.

I’ll keep you posted! Even while I have sciatica, though, I’m coming up with new places to visit and new things to see! Do it now!

***Items I have purchased to help my sciatica (ask your doctor before trying anything):

  • BeActive Plus leg brace. This was my first sciatica-improvement purchase. It’s a leg band that applies pressure to a trigger point along the sciatic nerve. Does it work? I don’t know, but I feel better when I use it! Purchase here.
  • TENS machine. Yes, I purchased my own TENS machine. In fact, I purchased two of them! The machines are supposed to control pain with electrical current. I can definitely say these have given me short-term relief, without a doubt. I purchased one for home use…get it here. And I got a wearable one for when I’m not home. See it here.
  • Gel Ice Pack. Ice, ice baby. It’s no joke. I have iced my back and butt every time I’ve gotten in the car and almost every time I’ve sat down at home. It helps decrease inflammation for sure. These gel ice packs are great to have around the house. Get them here.
  • Heating pad. Sometimes, I just need the muscles to relax. I have found one of the best things to give me relief is lying flat on my back on the bed with a pillow under my knees, which flattens the back. I put a heating pad under my lower back/butt, and it helps…especially before I fall asleep at night. Get one here.
  • Dr. Scholl’s Orthotics for Back Pain. I put these in my sneakers, and I plan to keep them in all my sneakers from now on. Basically, I have been wearing sneakers for most of the time I’ve had sciatica, with a few exceptions. Get the Dr. Scholl’s Orthotics for back pain here.
  • Aspercreme Lidocaine Patches. These definitely help some. I put one on my lower back and one on my lower leg, where the pain was excruciating. Get them here.
  • Salonpas patches. These are smaller than the Aspercreme patches, and they contain menthol and camphor instead of lidocaine, so they warm the area. They also have that wintergreen aroma, which is not my favorite, but whatever…they help, so I use them. They’re also less expensive than the Aspercreme patches, so I didn’t mind using them more often. Get them here.
  • Plantar Fasciitis socks. I felt like anything that adds extra support is helpful, so I purchased these, and I wear them. They’re not pretty, but I do feel like they help. Get them here.

If you’re suffering, I hope you feel better soon. My sciatica isn’t completely gone, but it’s much better, and I’m almost fully functional again.

by Kelly Mattei

No News is Good News

No news is good news.

I have learned a lot in the past month as an empty-nester, but the biggest lesson I have learned? No news is good news.

We moved our daughter in with a roommate, counseled her through sorority recruitment, cheered her on as she went to her first college classes, and checked in with her several times a day after she had her first college medical emergency. All that has happened in the past month…less than 30 days, actually. There have been some days we have spoken with her several times, but mostly, we receive texts…usually with happy face emojis and lots of exclamation points. We know she is happy when we get those.

But we have learned something else along the way. We have learned there will be days we don’t hear her voice. We might even just get one text with “hi.” But from that, we have learned that the less we hear from her, the happier she is.

There was one day soon after sorority Bid Day that she called me sounding a little down. She sounded like she was doubting herself. She sounded like she was questioning her decision to attend my alma mater. It was about 2:00 in the afternoon, the day before classes started. I remember where I was sitting…in a golf cart at a dock in Hope Town, Bahamas, while I waited for a ferry to take us (me and my husband) across the harbor to climb to the top of the lighthouse. We missed the first ferry and the second while I talked with our daughter, listening to what she was saying and offering words of encouragement. I reminded her that I had warned her this would happen. There would be days she would feel a little homesick. I offered some suggestions on things to improve her mood, and soon thereafter, my husband and I were on our way over to the lighthouse. While we enjoyed the view from the top of the lighthouse, we talked about how sad she had sounded. I assured my husband that what our daughter was feeling was completely normal…she would be feeling better soon.

However, I didn’t expect to answer the phone six hours later to hear her happily announcing to me, “I love this place!” She had made it over the hump…and in just six hours, she was happy. We laughed with her over the phone for a few minutes, but after that, she didn’t call us for a couple of days.

At breakfast two days later, my husband asked if I had heard from her. I said, “No.” He replied, “That worries me.” But then I reminded him that she called us when she was feeling down, and I felt sure she would call us again if she needed encouragement. Clearly, the fact that she wasn’t reaching out to us meant she was happy. I resisted the urge to call her to check, and soon thereafter…before lunch…she called and announced how much she loves her sorority, her classes, her roommate, and her friends!

I remembered taking her to two different soccer camps when she was younger. While she was at one camp, I heard from her many times a day…she was very unhappy and wanted to come home, but I suggested she make it through the camp just to prove to herself she could. She did. And then, a year or two later, she wanted to go to a different soccer camp with a different friend. In fact, it was a soccer camp at the University of Alabama, where she is enrolled as a freshman now! While she was in that camp, I went to visit my mother. On the second day, my mother asked if I had heard from her, and when I told her I hadn’t, she said, “Well, that’s good.” My mother, who had far more parenting experience than I did, knew…no news is good news. In fact, when I got there to pick up our daughter at the end of the camp, I could barely drag her away from her friends there!

And now, she’s in college. Yesterday, I texted her and said, “You might need to call your girl to get a hair appointment.” Her reply? “I’m not coming home anytime soon.” And you know what? It was like music to my ears! I knew at that moment that she is truly happy, because she isn’t missing home at all! She’s got this!

No news is good news.

by Kelly Mattei

College Move-In

College move-in.

It’s behind us. We got our daughter, a college freshman, moved in 11 days ago. My husband and I loaded all her stuff into two automobiles and drove 450 miles to her college to move her in. One car stayed with her, because the college she is attending allows freshman (almost encourages them) to bring their own cars. The actual move-in wasn’t bad, because the school brings in student groups and hires others to help with the process…lots of helpers. They actually take everything up to the rooms in big bins (see feature photo). It’s amazing! Everything was in the room within minutes. Of course, we had to put everything away.

The day after we moved her in, my husband flew home. I stayed in Alabama (she is going to the University of Alabama) to visit family and friends who feel like family for nine days while our daughter participated in the legendary Alabama sorority rush. Bid Day, when the girls receive their invitations to join sororities, was yesterday. I took some photos of our daughter with her new sorority sisters and scooted out of there…partly because the day is about her, not me…and partly because it was hotter than three blue Hells, and I was melting.

Today I drove the 450 miles home, feeling good about where she is.

At about the 350 mile mark, I received a text from her asking if something looked “concerning.” I was about to stop for gas anyway, so I looked at the photo and didn’t think it looked too bad. It was a photo of her heel, but there was a Band-Aid on it, so I couldn’t really see it very well. Fast forward a little while, and she was calling me to tell me she was going to the doctor. Apparently, she was in a lot of pain…and she has a really high pain threshold. During rush, she had worn some new heeled shoes that rubbed a bad blister on one heel…and then it became infected…and the photo she sent me didn’t do it justice. Ugh. Let me add here that the shoes were new and expensive, and she is telling me she will never wear them again. Maybe she can sell them?!?!

The doctor was pretty alarmed when he saw it and ordered a penicillin shot, an oral antibiotic, and an antibiotic ointment, explaining that there is very little skin tissue in that area, and infection could damage the Achilles tendon! I had never heard that! How many heel blisters have I had in my life?!?! How did I not know that?!?! We are praying it will look better in the morning.

Fortunately, she has a fantastic roommate who has been very supportive and helpful. Plus, she sent me a video of my daughter getting the penicillin shot…her first shot ever in her “fanny.”

Our daughter hasn’t even started classes for her freshman year yet, and she has already had her first medical emergency!

The way I see it, she learned some valuable life information. First, she learned that an infected heel blister can turn into an infected Achilles tendon, which is a bad problem to have. It can even cause sepsis…a serious medical issue. I’m proud she took action and nipped it in the bud before it got worse! Secondly, she learned where to seek medical help in a pinch near her college. Thirdly, she learned another valuable lesson when she texted me asking for my social security number. I texted back, “Why do they need that? I don’t give that out all Willy Nilly.” She texted that the doctor’s office forms ask for a parents’ info, since she is under 19. What?!?! She sent me a picture of the form, and I saw she had already entered her own social security number and was waiting for mine. I said, “Scratch out your social security number so none of it shows. Then walk up to the desk and tell the lady I won’t give you mine.” She did, and the lady told her, “No big deal.” I called her then and explained that doctor’s offices don’t need your social security number. Never give it to anyone except government entities, accountants, the university, or banks. There are some exceptions to that, but not many…and only give it when absolutely necessary.

So she had a day of learning two days before her first college class.

I’m sure she hasn’t thought to look at a map of the university to find the classes she will be attending Wednesday. Maybe she doesn’t need to do that. Maybe GPS will get her there.

And in the very little downtime I have had since I got home nine hours ago, I have answered texts, emails, and phone calls from people checking on me since I’m now an empty nester! Several have asked if I am emotional. No. I’m not emotional, but I think it’s because my brain has been occupied! I’m trying to make sure she is OK, and I’m also preparing to go on vacation! My flight leaves in 30 hours, and I have lots to get done before I leave. One thing I need to do is sleep. But I also need to make sure our daughter is OK before I get on a plane to fly another 800-1000 miles away. I’m already wondering if I need to delay my departure by a day. I will check with her in the morning and make her send me photos of her injury.

While I may be an empty nester, I’m still her mother. I still want to make everything better for her. I still want to make sure she is happy and healthy. But I’m proud that she, with the help of a fabulous roommate, handled this situation. She learned some valuable lessons today, and while I wish she were healthy right now, I’m just glad she was smart enough to take care of business.

To all my fellow mothers taking their kids to college, I say, “They are going to be OK…and we are too!”

***Feature photo from UA News Center, University of Alabama.***

by Kelly Mattei

Posts of 2019 (Joe Namath is a Winner)

Now that 2019 is over, I’ve taken a few minutes to go back and look at some old pieces I wrote during 2019. I can see how many people viewed each one, and the numbers are interesting.

All the “favorite gifts” pieces were read by lots of people…just as they were in 2018. I wasn’t surprised by that at all. Even the most-read piece didn’t surprise me. It was a piece I wrote about teens and much-needed life skills. I wrote it back in the summer, and it got lots of clicks immediately. What I loved most about it was the feedback! So many people had more suggestions to add after they read it! And I’d like to add one more thing to the list: make sure your teen driver knows not to put diesel fuel in his/her car unless it actually has a diesel engine. Trust me…they need to know this information.

But what surprised me most was the second most-read piece of 2019. For one, it wasn’t even written in 2019. It was written in May of 2018, but it gets lots of new readers every week! I use WordPress to write my blog, and through my account, I can see how many people read posts, how many like them, comments, and feedback; and I can see when someone has used a search engine to get to the page instead of clicking through Facebook or Instagram. Don’t worry…I can’t tell who does it…I can simply see that someone does. And frequently, I’ve noticed one Google search that leads people to my website more than any other search. If you guessed “Joe Namath,” you are correct.

Back in May of 2018, I wrote a piece about how my friend, Mary Ann, and I did a little detour during one of our road trips, so we could visit Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania, the town where Joe Namath grew up. And because of that, some Google searches will take readers to that piece on my page. You can see the piece here. That little piece from 2018 had the second highest number of readers in 2019. Apparently, I’m not the only person in America who loves Joe Namath. Much like Bobby Brady on The Brady Bunch, I would love to know Joe personally…like in the photo above. I wrote another piece titled Happy Birthday, Joe Willie about his book, All the Way: My Life in Four Quarters, in May of this year, and it didn’t get even a fraction of the “hits” as the old piece. The search terms tend to be “Joe Namath, home” or “Joe Namath, Pennsylvania,” so I guess folks don’t care too much about his birthday. They just want to know about his childhood. I hope his book had a lot more readers than the piece I wrote about his book!

Other pieces that were at the top of the “clicks” list were about misery. One about all the trials and tribulations my 19-year marriage has survived. Another one, called Poking the Bear, was about grief, something we will all experience, if we live long enough. And falling right in with those was a piece about summer reading for our school-aged children, titled I Bought the Summer Reading Book Today. That one is just one big gripe-fest about how I hate that my teenager has required summer reading for school. You can see it here. Apparently, it’s true that “misery loves company,” because lots of folks read those pieces, and a lot of them read them more than once. I don’t think we like knowing other folks are miserable…we just like knowing we’re not alone in misery. I truly believe we like to know other people have experienced some of the things we experience, and we like to know they got through it.

At the other end of the spectrum, there were pieces that hardly anyone read. They were mostly happy pieces, reflecting on something I enjoyed. But I refuse to believe people don’t like reading about happiness. I think it’s just that trials and tribulations bring us together. When the weather is great in your neighborhood, the neighbors are friendly enough, but when a big storm comes through, everyone works together to help each other. I guess it’s the same with writing. When things are going well, it’s not noticed, but write about a life altering event that lots of people can relate to, and you get their attention.

Recently I watched a movie I had never seen, and I watched it because a friend recommended it. Or maybe I should say she insisted I had to see it. So I sat down and watched Love, Actually. Since I cried during the opening, I knew I would like it. The basic premise is that love isn’t dead. The world isn’t just full of hatred…it’s full of love too, but you have to look around to see it. The narrator (Hugh Grant, I believe) said he enjoys going to the airport arrivals area, where he sees lots of love as people greet their loved ones. And yes, being the sap that I am, I loved the movie.

It reminded me that there’s a lot of love out there, and it reminded me that while disaster and misery bring people together, people really do like to hear about positive things too.

I’ve said before that I don’t write this blog to see how popular it will become. I write it for me. I write it, because it calms me. And frankly, I like saving my memories right here. When I’m long gone, hopefully, my daughter will sit down and read all of them…maybe printing them off…before the subscription for the website expires and everything is lost! Maybe I should print them off myself and bind them. It might be that she doesn’t even care, but lots of times, I wish I could ask my parents about things that happened to them. Just today, in fact, I texted my aunt (my daddy’s sister) to find out the story behind a Facebook post.

So in 2020, if I’m feeling like I need to share some misery, I will do just that. And if I want to share happy story, I’ll do that too. And if I ever get to meet Joe Namath, well…you’ll know it. I’ve met lots of celebrities…had lots of “brushes with fame.” But Joe Namath is one I haven’t met…yet. If you know anything about me, you should know I fully believe in the “power of yet.” That means I truly believe I haven’t met him YET.

 

by Kelly Mattei

Daddy’s Birthday

“Tough row to hoe.” I’ve heard it my whole life. My daddy loved idioms, and “tough row to hoe” was one of his favorites, and sometimes he would say it as “long row to hoe.” Either way, it means someone is facing a difficult situation. If you’ve never been on a farm, you might not get it, but to “hoe a row” on a farm means you’re turning the soil in a row for planting.

Someone might say, “They have a long/tough row to hoe cleaning up the Bahamas after the recent hurricane.” You get it.

I thought of that just now, because I’m watching a news show, and one of the commenters said “tough ROAD to hoe.” That would have driven Daddy crazy. Who ever heard of using a hoe (the farm implement) on a ROAD?!? It is clear that commenter hasn’t ever spent any time on a farm.

Daddy’s birthday is today…his 81st birthday, but he is no longer with us. He died 2 1/2 weeks after his 68th birthday….pancreatic cancer. I’ve written about him before, and I’ve written about the misery we all experienced as he suffered. I don’t like to dwell on that, though. I like to think about the things Daddy taught me and the things we all learned from his illness.

For many years, on his birthday, I remembered the illness, the suffering, the sadness, but I am finally at the point that I remember happy, healthy times. I remember how he laughed…something I couldn’t recall for a long time. He did love to laugh, and he loved to tell stories. Most of all, he loved to tell stories that made us laugh.

And that’s one thing we learned from Daddy during his illness: laughter can cure a lot of ills. It can’t cure cancer, but it sure can make it easier. He said it. He wanted us to keep laughing with him as much as we could. We talked about old times. We laughed about old stories. My brother told his usual crazy stories. Having my then-two-year-old daughter and my brother’s then-eight-year-old twins around helped too. They gave him something to smile about. He loved those grandchildren. When we were growing up, he had to travel for work a lot, so he wasn’t able to enjoy us as much, but after he retired, he got to spend time with his grandchildren…and that brought him great joy.

Incredibly, we have a lot of happy memories from his illness. He turned 68 a few weeks before he died. His brothers and sister came over to Alabama from Florida to be with him on his birthday. He didn’t know they were coming, and when we awoke from a nap to find them standing in his room, he looked around and said, “Well, this is a motley crew!” We have laughed about that for years. In fact, I recently visited his oldest brother in a rehab facility (he broke a hip) in Florida, and I reminded him of that moment…and we laughed again.

But I have lots of happy memories of Daddy in general. When we were little and living in Brewton, Alabama, he would take us to the “candy store” on Saturdays. It was really a locally owned convenience store called Murphy’s. In fact, now that I think about it, we only called it the “candy store” on Saturdays. The rest of the time, we called it “Murphy’s.”  Sometimes, he would take us to fly kites in a nearby pasture. I remember holding the kite string one time, and of course, I accidentally let it go. I can still see Daddy chasing it and catching it! He took us fishing at the pond in our neighborhood and cleaned the fish we caught. Mother would fry it up in the kitchen afterward. He helped us climb high up in the sycamore tree in our backyard. He rode a tandem bicycle with us. We had a lot of fun.

And when I was an adult, he helped me whenever I needed it. Heartbreak? Call Daddy. Bad day at work? Call Daddy. Stressed out about a test in college? Call Daddy. Sometimes, I just needed to talk. Sometimes, I needed him to “rescue” me when I had a flat tire or a car accident. And whenever I visited my parents, he always gave me WAM (walking around money) as I left. It was usually $20 or $40, but I was happy to have it, and he was happy to give it to me. In truth, we were always fortunate to know Daddy was our safety net…emotionally and financially.

Just like Mother, Daddy loved the happy faces of sunflowers. Most of my Mammoth Sunflowers have already bloomed this year, but there is one that’s holding out. Incredibly, one of my Evening Sun Sunflowers started opening today…the first of that variety to open. I’m in New York, but I called my husband in Charlotte and asked him to walk outside and see if it was opening, and it is…on Daddy’s Birthday. It made my day when he sent the picture of the bloom just beginning to open.

We have lots of great memories of Daddy. His laughter was contagious, and his sense of humor was awesome. His strength was unrivaled, and his love for his family was great.  I hope God lets him get little glimpses of his beautiful grandchildren. He would be so proud of them. And I remind them all the time that Big Ken (as they called him) would want them to enjoy life…sure, save for a rainy day, but enjoy today.

Happy 81st Birthday to Daddy in Heaven.

 

*****

by Kelly Mattei

What I Learned in 2018

Every year, I’m glad to see the old year go and ring in a new one. This one is no exception. There are lots of great things that happened in 2018, but there were some not-so-great things too. No matter what happened, I learned a few things along the way (these are things I’m trying to apply to my own life…not preaching to you, per se):

  • Celebrate every year. I don’t mean blow horns and throw confetti at midnight tonight. I mean celebrate every year. Sure, we’re all getting older, but turning 50 or 60 or 70 is a gift. Celebrate your life by living it! As my parents would say, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” It’s not, folks. Is work important? Yes! But should your entire life be about work? No. Do the things you have always wanted to do. Want to go skydiving? Do it! Want to write a novel? Do it! Want to drive cross-country? Do it! And for the record…only one of those things is something I want to do.
  • Spend money on experiences instead of things. I actually learned this a long time ago, but I stop and think about it regularly. Do you remember most of the things you’ve purchased this year? Probably not. But you likely remember most of the experiences you’ve had. I bought a lot of things this year, and I remember some of them, but I have memories from every experience.
  • Don’t sleep your life away. This is one of those things my parents used to say. This year, I slept through the month of January, after my mother died at the end of December, because that was how I grieved. At the end of that month, though, I knew my mother would be disappointed if I didn’t “pull myself up by my bootstraps.” Sleep used to be one of my hobbies, but every minute you sleep is a minute of your life ticking away. You can’t get it back. Live it, people. Sure, we need sleep, but too much of it is just laziness, unless you have some health issues. And if your napping or frequent sleeping is affecting others by delaying get-togethers or slowing folks down, rethink it. Do you really need that rest? Or it is just laziness? Or selfishness? Don’t be a Lazy Daisy.
  • Be coachable. Nobody knows everything about anything. I certainly have a lot to learn about life, in general. This is one of those things I heard retired Alabama football coach, Gene Stallings, say…be coachable. Listen to others, and actually hear what they say. He talked about how the best players had good attitudes and were good listeners…the ones who did what he, as the coach, wanted them to do, instead of what they wanted to do. Were they always the best ones on the team? Not necessarily, but sometimes, they got to ride the travel bus just because they were coachable. He also said that, as a coach at a high level, he needed to be coachable too. Sometimes, he had to listen to others to learn…and he certainly had to be “coachable” at home. Be coachable in life. Stay in your airplane seat when the seatbelt sign is on. Don’t pass on the double yellow line. All of those “rules” (or laws) are in place for a reason. Someone before us knew we would need to know. Be coachable.
  • Give grieving people a break. If you haven’t lost a loved one, you don’t understand what grieving people are experiencing. Even if you have lost a loved one, you don’t know what someone else is feeling. We all grieve differently. In grief, I lost my mind. Generally speaking, I have a good memory, but not in 2018, after losing my mother in December 2017. And I lost a dear friend six months later. As scary as it sounds, many times I didn’t even know what month it was. I have been angry. I have been sad. I have been hateful. Maybe someone was complaining about something I considered trivial. In grief, I would think, “Really? Who gives a flying fig! My mother just died!” Every emotion I’ve had this year has been amplified tenfold. And I have been forgetful. I have thought on several occasions I might have dementia, but then I realize it is grief. I have been crazy. I have tried to fake it till I make it. I have tried to hold it together for family. But I’m still grieving, and I know that, because when my brother calls to tell me he loves me, I cry. If I forgot something important to you, or if I was unkind, some of it (not all of it) might have been grief. If you have never lost a parent, I hope that if you do, I can help. I will remind you grief makes you crazy. In fact, I’ve wanted to go back and apologize to people I know who experienced it before me…because I didn’t get it. You can laugh or say I’m making excuses if you want, but we all grieve differently, and obviously, mine manifests itself in crazy. A friend texted me yesterday, “Grief sucks.” And she’s right. I like to think I acquired some coping skills after Daddy died, but I’m not sure. You can read all the self-help books about grief, and you still don’t know about another person’s grief, so don’t throw that mumbo jumbo out there. It’s insulting. You might have some understanding, but every person is different. I have a friend who lost both parents a month apart earlier this year, and even though I lost both parents twelve years apart, I cannot even imagine what she must feel. Cut your grieving friends a break, because you do not understand. Grieving people keep putting one foot in front of the other, because we have to, and sometimes, we think we are OK, but then something happens, and we know we are not. Maybe we’re putting on a brave face. And if you think grief ends after one month or six months, you need to know now it does not. I have been more sad the month of December than I was any other month of the past year. I don’t need people to understand that, and frankly, you don’t have to cut me a break, but I will forever cut grieving people a break. 
  • Fake it till you make it. I mentioned this above in my rant about grief. I still believe “fake it till you make it” is good. I still believe you start to feel happier if you act happier. I still believe you might be able to do something if you convince yourself you can. Just trust me on this one. Fake it till you make it.
  • Let it go. The new year is the perfect time to let go of excess baggage. I’m not one of those people who carries anger and resentment, but a lot of folks do. Get over it. It’s hurting you. Someone was snarky to you? Who gives a damn?!?! Move on. That doesn’t even begin to compare to real problems…like losing a loved one. Let it go!

And with that, I bid you a Happy 2019. My daughter and I are meeting friends in Los Angeles on New Year’s Day to celebrate new beginnings. We hope to have fun and laugh and celebrate, because that’s what I want to do this year. I’m kicking 2018 to the curb. I wish I could say I’m kicking grief to the curb too, but only time will help with that.

 

 

 

 

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by Kelly Mattei

Can’t You Control Your Child?!?

We’ve all been there. You’re in a store, shopping with a toddler. She isn’t behaving correctly, and you need to be firm. People are looking. You know you look like a sucker. You know they think you can’t control your child. And they’re right. You can’t control your child. And you know why? Your child is another human being who isn’t supposed to be controlled by you. Your child is supposed to learn to control herself. It’s a tough lesson for parent and child.

I was in a big box store at the beach with my daughter when she was about 2 1/2. I don’t even remember why we were there. I don’t remember if we were trying to buy groceries or what. I know she was in the seat in the grocery cart, and I was not happy with her behavior. Honestly, it has been thirteen years, so I don’t even remember what she was doing. Was she yelling? Was she throwing things? Was she crying? I just don’t remember.

I do remember my reaction.

After countless efforts to get her to behave correctly…talking with her, reasoning with her, bribing her…she was still not complying. I stopped the cart, picked her up, and carried her out of the store.

She screamed. Loudly. She thrashed wildly. People were staring. I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there with her. By the way she was acting, some folks probably wondered if I was taking someone else’s child. But mothers knew. They knew she was mine, not only because she looked just like me, but they’ve been there too. They’ve had to make a decision on how to handle a situation in front of other people, and they knew people were staring then too.

She screamed and cried and yelled all the way to the car. I even saw someone I knew as I was buckling her into her car seat. I got her buckled in and quickly closed the door…so I didn’t have to listen to the incessant wailing. I spoke briefly with the friend I hadn’t seen in seven or eight years, explaining my child was having a meltdown. This particular friend doesn’t have children, so she probably thought we both needed to be locked up.

I got into the car, and my daughter was no longer screaming. She was just sad. I didn’t even speak till we got back to the condo. When we stopped in the driveway, she was calm. She was exhausted, I’m sure, from losing control. I unbuckled her from her carseat and sat in the back seat with her, holding her in my arms and explaining that I love her, but I didn’t like the way she behaved in the store. I told her I was sad too. We cuddled for a while before going inside…and cuddled some more when we got there.

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As much as I hated that scene at the store, I loved the later result. Any time we were in a store, and she started to misbehave, all I had to do was say, “Remember that store?” She would look at me with those big brown eyes, and I could see that she remembered. She knew how to behave correctly, and she would prove it to me immediately.

Did I feel terrible about the incident? You bet…at the time. I felt like a terrible mother. Later though, I realized we both learned from it. I still hated that she had been so upset, but I was glad she remembered it, and I was really glad I never had to do it again. Yep…I never had to drag her out of a store kicking and screaming again. She remembered the lesson.

Sometimes, we have to do things we don’t enjoy in order to get to a better place. That day, my daughter and I both learned that lesson. It was a painful way to learn, but we learned.

 

 

 

 

 

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by Kelly Mattei

The Bad News Bears Were Our Babysitters

Earlier this week, someone posted a video clip on Facebook. It was a clip from The Bad News Bears, a movie that was released in 1976. And oh, how that one short clip took me back in time. Not familiar with the movie? You can see the trailer here.

When I was a little girl between the ages of seven and ten, the movie theater was my babysitter. Many Saturday nights, our parents would drop off me and my younger brother at the local movie theater. Sometimes it was even a double feature. The local theater was a Mom and Pop operation with one screen. No megaplex. Just one screen, and they showed first run movies, usually a different one every week. The only one I remember showing for two weeks was Jaws in 1975, and yes, I was eight, and my brother was six when we saw it.

Our parents never did any “pre-screening” of any of the movies. As long as it wasn’t rated R, we went, and we loved Saturday nights at the movies!

In 1975, our favorite movie was Jaws, and our favorite in 1977 was Smokey and the Bandit, which was released on my tenth birthday…both rated PG, and both inappropriate by today’s standards. I saw Smokey and the Bandit again last year, and there is no way that movie could even be made today.

Between those great movies, there was The Bad News Bears, released in 1976. It was rated PG, and every kid wanted to see it. IMDb.com sums it up saying, “An aging, down-on-his-luck ex-minor leaguer coaches a team of misfits in an ultra-competitive California little league.” It starred Walter Matthau as the coach and Tatum O’Neal as Amanda, an 11-year old girl with mad pitching skills. The movie’s language is bad; it’s completely and utterly politically incorrect, and the coach is a drunk, but the team of misfits pulls together. If it were released today, lots of parents would freak out at the political incorrectness, language and mature content. Heck, there might even be an uproar, but it was a great movie from my childhood. I don’t remember anybody’s parents making a big deal about it. Back then, there wasn’t a PG-13 rating, so everything that wasn’t G or R fell into the middle category, PG. This movie would have been a PG-13 by today’s standards. We loved The Bad News Bears.

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Yet somehow, The Bad News Bears stands the test of time. There are lots of movies that just aren’t as good 40 years after they’re made, but this one is just as funny and heartwarming to me now as it was in 1976, because despite the political incorrectness, it’s a story of people coming together. I’m not sure how many times I’ve seen it over the years. I purchased the DVD a couple years ago and watched it with my daughter. Sure the language was inappropriate, but the rest of it…the beer cans, drunk Buttermaker (Walter Matthau’s coach character), the drinking/smoking/motorcycle riding guy named Kelly Leak who would become a part of the team…well, my daughter was as surprised as I was when I watched it in 1976, but she liked the movie. And Tatum O’Neal was so darn cute. The movie stands the test of time, though, because it wasn’t a glossed-over, Leave It To Beaver version of childhood. Somebody, somewhere was actually living that childhood.

While lots of people would think The Bad News Bears is a terrible movie for kids now, people didn’t worry so much about stuff like that in 1976. Heck, we could ride our bikes all over the neighborhood, as long as we were home when the streetlights came on. My parents were buying themselves some date time by dropping us at the movies, but we were also getting an education. The Bad News Bears is set in Southern California, a place I’d never visited at the time. It was about a little league baseball team of misfits that was sponsored by none other than Chico’s Bail Bonds. While those of us who lived in South Alabama could relate to a baseball league, I didn’t know anyone like Amanda (Tatum O’Neal’s character), who sat on the side of the road selling maps to stars’ homes. That seemed fun and exciting to me. Add in the fact that she was a female, 11-yr-old, pitching dynamo, and I thought she was awesome. She was still feminine, yet that team of boys needed her. There was a lesson of “girls can do anything boys can do” in there, and there was a big message about teamwork and friendship.

When I was a kid, we all talked about the characters and even had favorites. If I said something about Tanner from The Bad News Bears to someone my age today, most people would immediately know who that is. Same with Kelly Leak…someone my age would likely say, “smoking, motorcycle rider from The Bad News Bears.” Say the name Buttermaker today, and everybody my age knows who that is. I just tested that on my brother. I texted him and asked, “If I say the name Buttermaker, do you know who that is?” He immediately texted back, “Bad News Bears.” And any time one of us hears Bizet’s Carmen Overture, we think of The Bad News Bears, because an adaptation of it was used as the theme song.

So, while lots of parents would never watch The Bad News Bears with their children, I allowed my child to watch it, inappropriate or not. Truthfully, I had forgotten how terrible the language was, but we watched it anyway. Language aside, maybe she saw a glimpse of life outside her bubble. Sure, some of the characters were over the top, but the overall theme and message in the movie was a good one. I mean, really…who can forget the scene near the end of the movie where Tanner tells the Yankees, who have just defeated the Bears in the championship, what they can do with their apology and their trophy? And little, mousy Lupus tells them, “And another thing! Just wait till next year!”…as he pours a beer over his teammate’s head.

The Bad News Bears was well-received by audiences and critics when it was released, even winning a Writer’s Guild of America Award.

I never dropped our daughter at the theater when she was younger than 12. Times have changed since the 70s. Kids aren’t as free-ranging as they used to be. Now that she’s a teenager, she meets friends at movies occasionally. They check movie times on their phones and purchase their tickets in advance online. At some theaters, they reserve their seats in advance. I wish we could have done that in the 1970s. And I wish we’d had those big, reclining seats too.

Back then, we had to call a pre-recorded message line (from our landline phones!) to hear the title and movie times. It was along the lines of, “Thank you for calling the Eastern Shore Cinema. Today is June 1st. Our movie this week is Jaws. Showtimes are 4:00, 7:00 and 9:30. Admission is $1 for children under 12 and $2 for adults. Thank you again for calling the Eastern Shore Cinema.” Here’s how often we called that theater line…I still remember the telephone number…more than 40 years later. And the floors were sticky. Everyone drank sodas back then, and there were no cupholders at the seats, so when they spilled, the soda would run down the sloped floor of the theater, making a long, sticky, soda line. Y’all remember…

So, cheers to The Bad News Bears and all those great 70s movies that could never be made in 2018. They were great babysitters, and they were educators too. They don’t make ’em like they used to. We learned a lot about life from those “inappropriate” movies, and we haven’t become ax murderers…shocking, I know.

Wish my little brother and I could share a beer with Buttermaker.

***To see a clip of one of the best scenes from the movie, click here.***

***Want to see some of the oldies but goodies mentioned in this blog? Amazon Prime has lots of them! Go to Amazon here and in the search box, enter the name of the movie you’d like to see.***