Upon relaying this story to my dear Jodi, she said, you must write about this. It is hilarious. Begin at the very beginning. I used to babysit Jodi when she was 9 and I was 15. Yes, we go back a LONG way!!!!
My generous Monday night Bible study group gave me a gift card to a local spa to spend how I wanted. My dear sweet Rebecca, known as Becca to most, (I love her full name and she gave me permission to call her that) pulled it together, including the instructions for spa days, and all the other services provided. I had been to this place before, due to another gift card at a different time from this same group. I was pumped! I was psyched!!! I was getting a break!!!! I was going to become a new woman in a scant hour!! Do you get the level of expectation I heaped on one gift card???
The day arrived for my trip to the spa. I was going to pick multiple services, on multiple days, I didn't want to use it up all at once. I decided the first thing I was going to take care of was my hair. I basically have worn it back for years. Ever since the lice scare at the schools I have worked at, and getting lice myself at one point, really discouraged me from the "wear your hair down" look. Up with hairspray, and you are pretty much free from getting lice. What does lice and a spa day have to do with each other? Hopefully nothing. But, I wanted a bit of a different look. 2 or 3 inches cut off, maybe, a bit of a bang, who knows. And the brochure said $27. A bit pricey for me, but, my lovely ladies were treating me, so away I went.
I arrive, dear sweet Rebecca greats me, I get a coffee provided by the spa. I am given a tour, oh how special! It is a GORGEOUS place. And then I meet my "stylist". ohhhhhh. We proceed into the hair cutting room, and I have a seat. Problem #1 occurs. I am looking at my self. In a FULL LENGTH MIRROR. How many of us give ourselves more than a glance in a full length mirror? If you're not 14, and you spend hours a day in front of a FULL LENGTH MIRROR, you either work for a modelling agency or you really do LOVE yourself. Good For You. What's going through my head at this point, what about all that "self love" Julie? What about all that "I love me" you dish out? What about all that talk about exercising and not caring what you look like? CRAP CRAP CRAP when you are trapped in a small chair that you fill up, in a sitting position, and somehow now you look like you have developed double chins everywhere! Where is the cape??? Don't I get a cape. Oh phew, here comes the cape. It does not cover enough. I can still see my feet and my woefully peeling toenail polish. I am in a spa for goodness sakes and I didn't paint my toes first before getting my hair cut? I mean, I didn't even get a SHOWER today. I slathered on the powder and changed my shirt moments before arrival.
My stylist looked absolutely adorable. But, I can barely hear what she is saying to me. I keep asking her to repeat herself. I feel like my father who has hearing aides. She asks me if I cut my own bangs. I know I have done something very very very wrong. I Sorry, I Bad. I have No money for $27 haircuts, but I don't say that. I simply state I had a moment and just couldn't wait. My Bad. I won't do it again, I promise. I'll do what I can, but this will take 2 haircuts, please come back in 8 weeks and we will have a look at it. I tell her I enjoy camping, and I do wear my hair up, but occasionally I would like something cute. I ask about the 2 to 3 inches off, she feels it would be too drastic and she doesn't really know me well enough to know if that is what I mean or would like it. We talk through out the hair cut, I quit asking for her to repeat herself, as now I am really wondering if I have a hearing problem. I get to sit under a dryer with big rollers. She wants me to look like a movie star. WOW. Who could I be??? Kirstie Alley maybe? She's the only plus sizer I know out there. I sit, looking at the only magazine available, SHAPE. Sigh. First with the full length mirror, now this??? My abbs disappeared forever with my last 9lb 2oz gift from God. Where is the Better Home and Garden Magazine? I mean really. I did get a free bottle of water, warm as it was. Ice would be nice. But what she said as she pulled out the rollers was priceless. Well, this didn't turn out as I had hoped. Your hair really is super fine and did not hold a curl. Yes, I really do have fine hair. I also got my eyebrows waxed. Usually the girl at my other place gives me a mirror to look, she did not, and a wax here costs $12.
I proceed out to check out. Hope I see you again she says. She then writes on a slip how much the hair cut was. $38! I asked Rebecca, I thought they were $27? What can you do, really, I am thinking. You have to pay, but now, before tip, I felt as if I had squandered $50 precious dollars those dear sweet girls had gathered for me. Sacrificed. I wanted to be a good steward of the gift. I was sooooo grateful for their thoughtfulness and gesture. My value of every dollar has so increased since returning home to be with my son. And when someone(s) does something nice for me, I am appreciative.
I made an appointment for a pedicure. A full spa pedicure. It is the full monty of pedicures. Maybe fodder for another post? Who knows. Women are funny creatures. We give life spice and excitement.
My husband picked me up. He just looked at me. I mentioned I had my eye brows done. Why, you know I love your eye brows. His big concern is hair length. He HATES short hair. Hates It. It may be the thing he hates the most, other than cleaning something that involves a spray, or getting slimey or wet. I tried explaining myself to him, he doesn't get it. I sound like Charlie Brown's teacher to him. Where is my Val Val when I need her??? Of course, she could not be reached. In the A.M. Elizabeth was trying to figure out what I actually had done. I shared about the mirror experience. MOM, you have a self esteem problem. That is a real problem, that is sad, so sad that you are dwelling on that. Yes, Yes, I know dear. Inside I am praying. Thank you Jesus for the 7a.m. bus. This conversation will all be over soon. Thank you God for school. Have a great day, dear.
I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I am soooooo thankful for this gift card. My LIFE is continual fodder for blogging. I just had to share!
Lots and Lots of Smiles,
Laughing All The Way,
Julie
Friday, May 25, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Should I change my definition of "Spoiled Children"?
As I was putting my son to sleep, our usual, daily snuggling time, I began to think about how "spoiled" my kids are. I was thinking, how can I get them to appreciate anything when they have suffered for nothing. They have no worries of lack of food, being warm, an in tact family. Do they need to do without to appreciate certain gifts in life?
I think about my husband and am amazed by how "normal" he is. I know, some of you are laughing, and I would say he will be a forever kid, partially due to his "arrested development" as I fondly tell him. Carl was raised in an environment polar opposite of spoiled. He was put on the state of Maine as a foster child at age 7 because his Dad went through yet another divorce, and his stepmother in Ohio didn't want to raise him, as he was not her biological kid, so she made Carl's father come back and take Carl after he had left. Jack went to Maine with Carl, and decided he couldn't take care of him either, dumped him with family, who didn't think they could take care of him either, and then the state of Maine got him. It does not get better with a happy adoption story by the Robbins. Quite the contrary. 7 kids, end of a dirt road in Milo, Maine, child molester central,(all my DHS friends know this is true) addiction to alcohol, no money for food, frozen pipes in winter, no water. Carl was the "water gatherer" for his family. Yup, this scrawny little kid, barely 5 ft tall, weighing in at maybe 75lbs, went to the spring in the dead of winter, with no mittens, I cannot make this stuff up. Bringing water back to the family. Chopping wood with those little arms. I have a picture on the wall in our livingroom of Carl and the Robbins family. Someone new was recently in our living room looking at all our pictures. She said to me, where did THAT picture come from? A picture of Carl and his family in front of a huge wood pile, obvious poverty, dirt, delapitaded building behind them. That is the family that raised Carl. NO WAY! was the response. She couldn't believe it. Could Not Believe It. That picture reminds us every day of our blessings. Every Day. I think we all need a reminder at times.
My childhood was not like Carl's, but it made me sad at times and I struggled with severe anxiety & regular panic attacks (which they didn't call them that back then). My mother was told on many occasions from the school I needed "help", that there was something "psychologically" wrong with me. My mother would say "Nonsense", take me home, and let me blow into a paper bag, and sleep them off. I do remember several events that are with me to this day. I remember the last time my Dad was in our house. He came into my bedroom, I was changing, he didn't know, and I was so angry. I yelled "GET OUT DAD! GET OUT". In my memory, I awoke the next morning with the sound of both my sister and mother crying. My Dad, in fact, had left. A note on the fridge is what was found by my mother informing her of his departure. I didn't cry, I only thought of how I had told him to leave, and he did. I was 12. Not a good age to loose your Dad. Well, lets face it, there is NEVER a good age to loose your Dad. Children were never meant to have 2 mothers and 2 fathers. Just not meant. Blending a family, when you already love your original parents, no matter how dysfunctional their relationship is, never works. I had a Mom, I had a Dad. I didn't want more people. And that was never a picnic, but I certainly had a home, was taken care of, Mom always made sure she was there, even though she had gone back to work, but I remember her counting out change so that I could get a burger and fries when we would stop for McDonalds after my field hockey games. I remember being jealous of kids that had really nice school clothes and lots of them. I hated asking for ANYTHING, and rarely did. My Dad would give me $100 for Christmas with a pair of pajamas. I counted on those pajamas. I used $80 of my Christmas money so I could go to youth camp every year. I remember the first year I didn't get the pajamas and I was thinking, what am I going to do without those pajamas???
I was 40 the first time I went to Florida. Carl and I and girls drove. I was amazed. We got to our timeshare, and I just cried. We were on vacation just for fun as a family. Did I ever dream this would happen??? My daughters have been to NYC twice. Once they got to see a play on Broadway, Mary Poppins. We have been to Williamsburg several times. Washington D.C. We just went to Florida for the 4th time this past April. Kristen will be taking drivers ed. this summer. Papa just found her a whopper of a deal on her first car that we will pick up Saturday. It is such a Whopper of Deal, Papa doesn't want us telling anyone how much we are actually paying for this car. You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway.
The lessons Carl and I both learned from our life experiences taught us many things. Some great, some horrible. Some we will and have never allowed in our home. Our kids have been told snippets of our childhood, and of course, they have eyes and ears, and have picked up on quite a bit from the interaction with the parents in our lives. This is horrible, but I am sharing. One of the girls said recently "So, I guess I am to take away from that visit, that if you live in a trailer park you're poor, don't bathe, and wearing a bra is optional? oh and Mom, they all made you look like a Super Model." I know, its horrible. And we corrected her on many levels. Another teachable moment.
Our kids have said to us more than one occasion. How are you guys normal? You parent us so different. Carl will respond, well, when you know how something feels, how it feels to be treated a certain way and you don't like it and it doesn't make you feel loved, well, Why would we do it to the people we love the most in this whole world? That would not make sense to Mom and I.
So, I guess I have to re-define spoiled.
I guess I would call my kids "well loved".
To some, maybe they do look spoiled. Some parents, when they don't get a lot, they don't give a lot. We are the opposite. We give a lot. We give beyond it "hurting" us. If you wonder why I am still nursing my son? Because he wants to. He loves it. It brings him comfort. And it comforts his mother to know that kind of closeness of someone who will not leave.
Why does Carl want to play? One, he works hard. Why does he take summers off and not work? He has a family. A family that loves him, wants him around, wants to be with him. We will not stop caring for him or thinking he is too much to handle. EVER.
I think you get the picture.
We Love Our Kids. All the Time. Every Day. They are not inconvenient, too expensive, or in our way.
Here's to all the families out there who are making it work, even when things "appear" difficult.
Love from the Robbins Nest.
Julie Robbins co-chief executive.
I think about my husband and am amazed by how "normal" he is. I know, some of you are laughing, and I would say he will be a forever kid, partially due to his "arrested development" as I fondly tell him. Carl was raised in an environment polar opposite of spoiled. He was put on the state of Maine as a foster child at age 7 because his Dad went through yet another divorce, and his stepmother in Ohio didn't want to raise him, as he was not her biological kid, so she made Carl's father come back and take Carl after he had left. Jack went to Maine with Carl, and decided he couldn't take care of him either, dumped him with family, who didn't think they could take care of him either, and then the state of Maine got him. It does not get better with a happy adoption story by the Robbins. Quite the contrary. 7 kids, end of a dirt road in Milo, Maine, child molester central,(all my DHS friends know this is true) addiction to alcohol, no money for food, frozen pipes in winter, no water. Carl was the "water gatherer" for his family. Yup, this scrawny little kid, barely 5 ft tall, weighing in at maybe 75lbs, went to the spring in the dead of winter, with no mittens, I cannot make this stuff up. Bringing water back to the family. Chopping wood with those little arms. I have a picture on the wall in our livingroom of Carl and the Robbins family. Someone new was recently in our living room looking at all our pictures. She said to me, where did THAT picture come from? A picture of Carl and his family in front of a huge wood pile, obvious poverty, dirt, delapitaded building behind them. That is the family that raised Carl. NO WAY! was the response. She couldn't believe it. Could Not Believe It. That picture reminds us every day of our blessings. Every Day. I think we all need a reminder at times.
My childhood was not like Carl's, but it made me sad at times and I struggled with severe anxiety & regular panic attacks (which they didn't call them that back then). My mother was told on many occasions from the school I needed "help", that there was something "psychologically" wrong with me. My mother would say "Nonsense", take me home, and let me blow into a paper bag, and sleep them off. I do remember several events that are with me to this day. I remember the last time my Dad was in our house. He came into my bedroom, I was changing, he didn't know, and I was so angry. I yelled "GET OUT DAD! GET OUT". In my memory, I awoke the next morning with the sound of both my sister and mother crying. My Dad, in fact, had left. A note on the fridge is what was found by my mother informing her of his departure. I didn't cry, I only thought of how I had told him to leave, and he did. I was 12. Not a good age to loose your Dad. Well, lets face it, there is NEVER a good age to loose your Dad. Children were never meant to have 2 mothers and 2 fathers. Just not meant. Blending a family, when you already love your original parents, no matter how dysfunctional their relationship is, never works. I had a Mom, I had a Dad. I didn't want more people. And that was never a picnic, but I certainly had a home, was taken care of, Mom always made sure she was there, even though she had gone back to work, but I remember her counting out change so that I could get a burger and fries when we would stop for McDonalds after my field hockey games. I remember being jealous of kids that had really nice school clothes and lots of them. I hated asking for ANYTHING, and rarely did. My Dad would give me $100 for Christmas with a pair of pajamas. I counted on those pajamas. I used $80 of my Christmas money so I could go to youth camp every year. I remember the first year I didn't get the pajamas and I was thinking, what am I going to do without those pajamas???
I was 40 the first time I went to Florida. Carl and I and girls drove. I was amazed. We got to our timeshare, and I just cried. We were on vacation just for fun as a family. Did I ever dream this would happen??? My daughters have been to NYC twice. Once they got to see a play on Broadway, Mary Poppins. We have been to Williamsburg several times. Washington D.C. We just went to Florida for the 4th time this past April. Kristen will be taking drivers ed. this summer. Papa just found her a whopper of a deal on her first car that we will pick up Saturday. It is such a Whopper of Deal, Papa doesn't want us telling anyone how much we are actually paying for this car. You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway.
The lessons Carl and I both learned from our life experiences taught us many things. Some great, some horrible. Some we will and have never allowed in our home. Our kids have been told snippets of our childhood, and of course, they have eyes and ears, and have picked up on quite a bit from the interaction with the parents in our lives. This is horrible, but I am sharing. One of the girls said recently "So, I guess I am to take away from that visit, that if you live in a trailer park you're poor, don't bathe, and wearing a bra is optional? oh and Mom, they all made you look like a Super Model." I know, its horrible. And we corrected her on many levels. Another teachable moment.
Our kids have said to us more than one occasion. How are you guys normal? You parent us so different. Carl will respond, well, when you know how something feels, how it feels to be treated a certain way and you don't like it and it doesn't make you feel loved, well, Why would we do it to the people we love the most in this whole world? That would not make sense to Mom and I.
So, I guess I have to re-define spoiled.
I guess I would call my kids "well loved".
To some, maybe they do look spoiled. Some parents, when they don't get a lot, they don't give a lot. We are the opposite. We give a lot. We give beyond it "hurting" us. If you wonder why I am still nursing my son? Because he wants to. He loves it. It brings him comfort. And it comforts his mother to know that kind of closeness of someone who will not leave.
Why does Carl want to play? One, he works hard. Why does he take summers off and not work? He has a family. A family that loves him, wants him around, wants to be with him. We will not stop caring for him or thinking he is too much to handle. EVER.
I think you get the picture.
We Love Our Kids. All the Time. Every Day. They are not inconvenient, too expensive, or in our way.
Here's to all the families out there who are making it work, even when things "appear" difficult.
Love from the Robbins Nest.
Julie Robbins co-chief executive.
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