Like it never even happened…
I spent the first day of the year erasing the old. It was dreary and drizzling and too chilly to … Continue reading Like it never even happened…
I spent the first day of the year erasing the old. It was dreary and drizzling and too chilly to … Continue reading Like it never even happened…
I have newfound resolve — just in time for 2015.This Christmas season I’m different. Once I had the Christmas lights hung (always … Continue reading Resolving to be “all there” …
I once thought that pregnancy and motherhood were a cruel hoax. Think about it. Just when a pregnant woman is … Continue reading There ain’t no tired like…
Mememememememememe…. This post is all about me — and eight other bloggers. One who nominated me for the “Sisterhood of … Continue reading A part of the “Sisterhood of World Bloggers”…
“I have succumbed…” seemed the right title for this post somehow. Although now that I’ve typed that post title and … Continue reading I have succumbed…
Another year, another turkey. Another hundred exclamations of “I HATE cooking turkey.” (I do hate cooking turkey. So much pressure … Continue reading Despite the turkey…
I have never been more thankful that I gave up teaching than I am today. If I were a teacher, I … Continue reading When work is the escape…
Twenty years ago today, I wrapped myself in satin, lace, and bows and made myself a birthday present — a bride … Continue reading When it all points to God…
A picture is worth a thousand words, right? This post is that thousand plus a few of my own. Last … Continue reading A thousand plus words…
It felt as if I were in Mrs. Repulski’s Advanced Humanities class again. “I’d better explain this better,” my English … Continue reading The view from inside…
Just a week ago, I was in a Seattle apartment icing a painful bruise to my shin bone, barely able … Continue reading Formerly streetless in Seattle…
Writing about my “hostage situation” in McDonald’s made me think of my father’s week-long experience as a McDonald’s hostage — at least … Continue reading Singing to free the hostage…
This is what my daughter posted to make the announcement of her first pregnancy Facebook official: Since she posted it … Continue reading It’s Facebook official…
Dear Diana, When I awakened at 3:30 a.m. Colorado time, my first thought was that I was glad you weren’t … Continue reading When friendship trumps light…
I made the mistake of calling my mother. I was on my lunch break from work; she was safely ensconced in … Continue reading Sara: Don’t call Mom at work…
My infant son left the hospital as “No Name Dagen.” “I have to see the baby before I can name … Continue reading A blog by any other name…
My son just got offered a promotion. It would mean working more hours in a congested city away from those he loves, but he is proud of the offer and should be. In his case, a promotion means a significant raise and a leadership role in his profession. It is a vote of confidence, a round of applause, a hat’s off, and any other idiom that means “good job!” His company is offering him praise in a tangible way.
And a chance to get his parents’ affirmation.
He called both my husband and me to give us the news individually. He then visited us at home and gave us more details. It was THE topic of conversation through the weekend. Why? In addition to our advice, my son wanted our praise.
Likewise, my youngest son, knowing that his older brother was coming to visit, casually placed his last two trophies earned on the coffee table. In May, he had been awarded “Best Pitcher” from the varsity baseball coach; the next day he was named “Best Actor” for his role as the Beast in “Beauty and the Beast.”
He has since graduated from high school and begun college, but he thought enough of those accolades to get them from his bedroom and place them conspicuously in the family room where they were sure to be seen.
When his older brother didn’t seem to notice them anyway, my youngest son pointed them out.
“Did you see my trophies?” he asked, as he lifted them for his brother’s inspection while explaining their significance.
“You graduated, right?” the older one said, as if the significance of these trophies had diminished with the passing of a few months.
My youngest had just wanted his brother’s affirmation. I’m not sure he got it.
This week at work, the Marketing Associate began sending emails to celebrate the number of inventions that our office had licensed or optioned. My job is creating marketing campaigns for those inventions, and I was curious as to whether our marketing campaigns had influenced the various companies’ decisions to purchase the licenses to market our inventors’ ideas. Part of my desire to know is just good business: Does marketing make a difference? Is the paper campaign effective or are we attracting more potential licensees via our online efforts and social media?
But part of me wanted credit. I wanted at least the personal knowledge that my efforts had contributed to the numbers marking our company’s success. I wanted praise.