Mom’s Dating Tips — Bonds of Love or Bonds of Crazy?

Bayard & Holmes

~ Piper Bayard

Everyone is a head case. The only question is whether they are a head case you can live with. ~ Mom

In the first article, First Be Happy Alone, we looked at why the first step to being happy with someone else is learning to be happy alone. A full cup attracts a full cup. If you’re happy alone, then it’s time to open yourself to the world of opportunities.

Opening yourself means you have to get rid of pre-conceived notions. The fact is that you might not know what you need. Trust that God, Life, the Universe, your Higher Power, or simply your Inner Good Sense does know. In other words, don’t stay trapped in a box of what you think you want. Open yourself to what you need.

 

 

Relationships are journeys of discovery. They are not enactments of pre-conceived fantasies.

Forget thinking that you must have crazy hot chemistry the moment your eyes meet. Crazy hot chemistry – the kind that makes you want to jump a stranger right there in the produce section of the grocery store – is exciting and makes us feel alive and tingly, but it’s still CRAZY. The fact is that our hottest attractions occur when our own crazy meets a compatible crazy. Crazy sucks onto crazy like a fanatic sucks onto dogma. Crazy is not a basis to build a life together.

Crazy is attracted to crazy in the hope that if you can fix each other’s crazy, it will somehow fix your own. In reality, though, the only thing crazy can build together is more crazy. This results in one of two inevitabilities. You spend your lives in an increasingly miserable death spiral, OR, one of you gets better, and the bond is broken. The classic example is the alcoholic and the co-dependent. They either die inch by inch together in alternating ecstasy and misery without ever building a stable life, or one of the two gets better, and the relationship falls apart.

Crazy love sparks the firestorm that burns down our world.

Lasting love is the hearth fire that warms us for a lifetime.

Bonds of love are bonds of solace and refuge that are built over time. They nurture each partner while nurturing the relationship. And don’t worry. This does not preclude hot sex. The difference is that the hot sex is real and solid, and you’re in the room with your mate and not lost in your head with someone you don’t even really know outside of crazy. It’s an exchange of nurturing love rather than an expression of needs that the relationship cannot fill.

 

 

Signs You’re Bonded in Crazy

This is not a comprehensive list, but it hits some major points.

• You understand each other’s pain before the dessert course.

Bonds of pain are at the foundation of crazy love, and they can be a force of nature. Finding someone with matching scars is like reaching an island in an endless stormy ocean, and it is one hot, steamy island. But unless there is a great deal more to the relationship, you either indulge each other’s pain for the duration, or, the moment one of you starts to heal, the bond is broken.

• You fall into bed and ask questions later.

• You have the same strengths and the same weaknesses.

• You overlook Red Flags* and plow forward without resolution.

• You make excuses for the other person’s words and behavior.

• You keep the relationship compartmentalized from your family and friends.

• When you are together with family or friends, you act differently than you would if the other wasn’t there.

• You treat the other like a fixer-upper, focusing on who the other can be rather than who the other is right now, today.

 

So much potential!

 

Signs You’re Bonded in Love

• You learn each other’s life stories over time.

• You become friends who genuinely enjoy each other’s company before you become lovers.

As we discussed in the last article, sex is easy. Love takes time and commitment. The vast majority of relationships that begin in the bedroom never make it to the altar, much less through a lifetime. Think of controlling yourselves as a way of respecting the sacred relationship you want to share. It also builds trust in that you show each other that you aren’t slaves to lust – something anyone married over a decade can tell you will be a potential danger to the relationship at some point. Establish that you are up to the challenges to come.

• You have different strengths and weaknesses, preferably complimentary ones that will help you draw strength from each other.

• There are no unmitigated Red Flags.*

• You are comfortable with the other’s words and behavior.

• You socialize easily with each other’s friends.

• You are drawn to who the other is today, not who the other might be tomorrow.

 

 

At the heart, lifelong relationships are about time and boundaries. A dear friend once explained it to me like this . . .

You are in the center of multiple circles of fence. Not walls. Fence. When you meet someone, go to the outer circle, and stand behind your fence. Chat over the fence for a bit. If you’re comfortable with them, open the gate and let them in to where you were standing while you go behind the next fence. Wash, rinse, repeat. THE CHOICE TO OPEN A GATE IS COMPLETELY YOURS. You don’t owe an open gate to anyone. Not anyone. Most people will remain in those outer circles as acquaintances. Some will come in several layers and be good friends. And, in time, one will make it in far enough to be your mate for life, and a mate for life is worth the investment of a little time.

Now give yourself a hug and be good to yourself today.

Many blessings,

Mom

*Red Flags are signs that you’re barking up the wrong skivvies. We’ll talk about those next time.

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When it comes to dating, Piper Bayard did it wrong, and then she did it right. She’s now been happily married for over two decades and is passing on the tips that helped her find a solid partner in building a life and a family.

Piper Bayard, is also an author and a recovering attorney. Her writing partner, Jay Holmes, is an anonymous senior member of the intelligence community and a field veteran from the Cold War through the current Global War on Terror. Together, they are the bestselling authors of the international spy thriller, THE SPY BRIDE, coming soon!

Keep in touch through updates at Bayard & Holmes Covert Briefing.

You can contact Bayard & Holmes in comments below, at their site, Bayard & Holmes, on Twitter at @piperbayard, on Facebook at Bayard & Holmes, or at their email, BH@BayardandHolmes.com.

Mom’s Dating Tips — First Be Happy Alone

Bayard & Holmes

~ Piper Bayard

I’ve often posted dating tips on FB. This post is in response to friends there who have asked me to elaborate . . .

“Seducing someone is almost as difficult as watching ice melt, but not quite. You can do better.” ~ Mom

 

 

It’s easy to find sex.

Almost all of the population wants it at any given moment of any given day, and regardless of your sexual orientation, half the horny people on the planet are potential sex partners.

But finding a life partner? That’s another matter altogether.

The most important step to finding a life partner is to learn to be happy alone. Yes, that’s right. Learn to be happy alone. That way, you won’t settle for a toxic relationship just because you’re afraid of the sound of your own head rattling around in an empty house.

But wait a minute, you say. If I were happy alone, why would I bother dating at all?

Because when you’re happy alone, you end up with more of yourself than you need. You develop an abundance of spirit that makes you want to share yourself with someone else. You are an overflowing cup that seeks another vessel to fill. That “other vessel” is the “We” of a relationship.

Relationships have an “I,” a “You,” and a “We.”

People who aren’t happy alone are half full cups. They find other half full cups and empty themselves into a third cup – the “We” cup. Since the “I” and “You” are now empty cups, they draw from the “We” without having anything left to nurture it, and the “We” runs dry.

People who are full cups attract other full cups, and together, they make a “We” cup that holds their overflow. The relationship is about giving to the “We,” and not about taking from it. The “We” is a creation born from abundance and not from want, so it doesn’t run dry.

 

Full “I” + Full “You” = Full “We”

 

Great, you say. So how do I start being happy alone?

• First, clean your room. Seriously. Clean your room. Messy surroundings sap the spirit, and you’re going for abundance here.
• Treat yourself with class. You matter.
• Ask yourself what it is that you want someone else to give you, and find ways to give those things to yourself.
• Figure out if you have unresolved pain. That’s the restlessness that keeps you overscheduling your life and seeking out social media in lieu of quiet time alone with your head.
• Get help to resolve that pain. Find a competent professional or a good friend who can guide you to a better place, so that time alone with yourself doesn’t scare you anymore.
• Make a list of twenty things you want to do in the next five years.
• Turn off the computer, pick something off of the list, and go do it.
• Get rid of the people in your life who don’t respect you. Likewise, get rid of the ones you don’t respect. You and your time are too precious to share with anyone who doesn’t feed your dreams and nurture your soul.
• Cook good meals for yourself. Feeding yourself well is the most nurturing thing you can do for both your body and your soul.
• Actively seek out laughter and beauty. Both fill the spirit and lead to happiness.

Now give yourself a hug and enjoy the feel of your own embrace. Stop waiting for someone to come along make you happy. Love yourself, and the happy will come, and with it, a fellow full cup.

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When it comes to dating, Piper Bayard did it wrong, and then she did it right. She’s now been happily married for over two decades and is passing on the tips that helped her find a solid partner in building a life and a family.

Piper Bayard is also an author and a recovering attorney. Her writing partner, Jay Holmes, is an anonymous senior member of the intelligence community and a field veteran from the Cold War through the current Global War on Terror. Together, they are the bestselling authors of the international spy thriller, THE SPY BRIDE, available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

 

Keep in touch through updates at Bayard & Holmes Covert Briefing.

You can contact Bayard & Holmes in comments below, at their site, Bayard & Holmes, on Twitter at @piperbayard, on Facebook at Bayard & Holmes, or at their email, BH@BayardandHolmes.com.

The End is Near (and we deserve it) . . . KFC Chicken Corsage, Just In Time For Prom

By Piper Bayard

Kentucky Fried Chicken introduces its Chicken Corsage just in time for prom, and they’re going like hotcakes . . . or at least like chicken and waffles.

Now You Can Go to Prom with a Fried Chicken Corsage

The Chicken Corsage — How a young man proves he has the primal needs covered.

Blogs and Articles in No Particular Order

Let’s help English teacher Katie Sluiter build a library for her high schoolers! This is her current classroom library . . .

Katie Sluiter’s current classroom library

She’d probably like to turn it into this . . .

image from Canstock Photo

But I’m guessing she would be happy with a couple thousand books — either new or gently used —  so that the kids never have an excuse to not be reading. Get the details on how you can help at Building a Dream.

Big thanks to Amber West, author of The Ruth Valley Missing, for calling my attention to this book drive. In my experience, avid reading is a substantial factor to success in any field.

Outstanding review of FIRELANDS. KokkieH Reviews Firelands: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale by Piper Bayard. I love it when people see all of the layers.

Being a Browncoat, I love this piece that bestselling author Tammy Salyer pointed my way. If Twitter were on Firefly. If you love Firefly, Joss Whedon, and/or social media, you’ll get a kick out of this.

It’s a simple fact. Bestselling author Kristen Lamb is a great writing teacher. Everybody Arcs! How to Use Emotional Growth to Propel the Story and Capture the Reader

In celebration of The Bard’s birthday this week, 20 Great Shakespearean Insults. Big thanks to Jenny Hansen of More Cowbell for bringing this to my attention. I’m saving these up for the 2016 election season, which starts . . . let me check . . . in 2012.

On a more serious note, 200 girls are missing in Nigeria. Two hundred. They were kidnapped from their school by an Al-Qaeda affiliate. This deserves some attention. 200 Girls are Missing in Nigeria – So Why Doesn’t Anybody Care? by Anne Perkins.

The Tipping Info-Graphic for my fellow life travelers. I don’t know about you, but I’m not always sure how much to tip and where.

Prom time is here, as the chicken commercials indicate. Some great advice for you young couples, and a laugh for the rest of us.

Campaign Style Poll of the Week . . .

All the best to all of you for a tasty week.

The Happy Man Manual — Valentine’s Day

By Piper Bayard

Guys get the short end of the stick on Valentine’s Day. It’s a day that’s geared toward women. Make her happy, win her heart, pop that question. Buy her roses, get her chocolates, give her a massage, say things to make her swoon. Everywhere men look, television, magazines, the internet, and their girlfriends and wives bombard them with expectations, most of which they can never meet.

image by Johntex, wikimedia commons

Women, on the other hand, have it easy. That’s because men come with a three sentence Happy Man Manual: 1) Feed me; 2) Feed my ego; 3) Feed my libido. If a woman does at least two of those three things, she’s made him happy. Three, and bliss ensues. As a result, pleasing men on Valentine’s Day, or any other day, is almost as difficult as watching ice melt, but not quite.

To test this, I asked my husband to suggest ten things women can do to please their men on Valentine’s Day. This was his response:

1. Show up naked.
2. Show up naked.
3. Show up naked.
4. Show up in a negligee.
5. Cook his favorite chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy and chocolate cake.
6. And make those little prosciutto pastry pinwheels to go with that.
7. Say again what a good job he did remodeling the bathroom.
8. Tell him now that you’re with him, you don’t think about Jason Stathom anymore.
9. Bake him some cookies.
10. Ask him to show up naked.

So this Valentine’s Day, my heart goes out to men everywhere. Thank you for being men in all of your simple glory. The fact is that if you weren’t so easy, you would have put an end to this holiday before it even got off the ground. I appreciate it that you didn’t. I’m looking forward to whatever creative surprise my husband comes up with this year, whether it’s a pink hat or a heart-shaped mug warmer. Perhaps I’ll thank him with a chocolate cake. Among other things.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

The Romance Doctors–Poolside Hussy Defense

By Piper Bayard and Jay Holmes

As a Belly Dancer and a Spook, we represent classic romantic archetypes. Therefore, we are qualified to assist with all of your romance needs.

With the month of romance upon us, Valentine’s Day is looming closer, along with all of its romantic pressures. We here at Bayard & Holmes have set aside a negligible portion of our biting sarcasm to devote ourselves to solving your romantic issues.

What to get for the lady or man for Valentine’s Day? How to pop the big question? How to get your mother off your back about how she didn’t walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death to give birth to you to not see you married? No worries, dear readers, we have answers for each of your questions and dilemmas. Let’s see what’s on your minds this week.

Ellie Ann wants to know what to do about a poolside hussy.

Bennett Sisters, image from Library of Congress

Say I’m at the pool with my hot husband, and a bikini-clad hussy starts staring at him (sure, whatever) but then bends down right in front of him several times (NOT okay). How can I tell her he’s off limits short of a she-bear clawing fight?

Bayard:

Really, Ellie, there’s no need for overt violence, and I’m a bit shocked that you would suggest such a thing. That is illegal, after all. An accidental assault is far more appropriate. While she’s bent over, stand up with your large pool bag and “accidentally” boot her hussy butt into the pool. Remember, plausible deniability is paramount in these situations.

Holmes:

Ellie, assuming he woke up with you this morning, he already answered her. He rejected her in favor of you. Smart man.

But, dear friend, I can’t help myself. Embrace your inner weasel. “Ass Clown” has placed herself in an interesting ethical position. Short of assault, she deserves whatever she gets. Opportunities for fun should not always be ignored.

There are thousands of ways to deal with her without going to jail or answering any civil suits. If your husband agrees, you could simply speak about her derisively as if she wasn’t there. The conversation could include words like “lonely slut” or “desperate whore” or “I wonder how many diseases she has.” If you wanted to be a tad more subtle, he could say, “Wow, if her butt was any bigger she would block out the sun.” Or, depending on the size of her butt, “That’s the ugliest boney butt I’ve ever seen on a human.”

Then you could admonish him with something like, “Sweetie, don’t pick on her. It’s not her fault that she was born like that.”

A water pistol with some nice dye in it might be fun, too. If she’s wearing a dark bikini some white dye would create a charming effect.

We should do no harm to innocents. She’s not innocent so have at it.

We don’t just help happy couples find each other and stay happy, we advise authors about the romances in their books. Texanne is wondering how patient her character should be.

How long does the secondary heroine have to wait after the rotten wife of the tertiary hero leaves him before she makes her move, and what kind of move would be communicative yet leave some room for saving face if it doesn’t work out?

Bayard:

If she’s anything like a college “friend” of mine, approximately 18 minutes, which is how long it took her to drive across town to my newly-ex-boyfriend’s place when I told her I’d split with him.

As for a move? Asking a man about his interests and hobbies, such as his passion for the Civil War, and feigning interest while flaunting a perky, aerobicized butt is a tried and true method. The worst that happens is that he continues to have more interest in General Grant than in her charms.

Holmes:

Her timing needs to be consistent with her character and fit the plot. If not, then you need to explain a new facet of her character and bend your plot.

As far as “how” she gets his attention, I recommend that she put on a skimpy bikini and bend over in front of him three times at the local pool. Just have her watch out for women with water pistols. If you want something more subtle, she could invite him over for lunch, and, depending on how lunch goes, she could progress from there.

image by Sergio Savaman Savarese, wikimedia commons

Good luck, everyone, and keep your water pistols handy!

What are your questions for The Romance Doctors? We are here to serve you. And remember, no question is out of bounds, but our answers might be.

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©2013 Piper Bayard and Jay Holmes. All content on this page is protected by copyright. If you would like to use any part of this, please contact us at the above links to request permission.

Hospice: Telling People I See Their Butts

By Piper Bayard

Someone recently asked me what I do as a Hospice volunteer, and I told her that basically, it’s my job to tell people I see their butts.

Hospice is a service dedicated to providing people with the most comfortable death possible. We tend to physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of patients who usually have less than six months to live. We call ourselves midwives because each of us has felt that overlap between this life and the next as heaven opens to receive its newest child.

image by I. Craig, wikimedia commons

When I first told my friends I was training for Hospice, I got a number of reactions.

1. Uhmm . . . Better you than me.

2.  Wow. I could never do that.

3.  She’s such a Drama Queen that should be perfect for her. (Said behind my back by a catty belly dancer and passed on to me by another catty belly dancer.)

Most often, though, I got a mystified look and a disbelieving shake of the head with the question, “Why?”

The smartass answer? Because it’s easier to deal with dying people than with my teens. Dying people are a temporary commitment, but my teens want to hang out on my couch and eat my groceries forever.

The real answer? Because when my mother was dying, I was all she had. Since my children were young, I couldn’t be with her at the nursing home more than a few hours a day. I really wished someone could sit with her when I couldn’t. So after she died, I realized that was something I could give to someone else.

One thing I’ve learned from my work is that dying people tell the best stories. They are a hoot. I’ll be talking with a woman who looks like the quintessential grandma. You know, the kind that bakes cakes that really do look like Thomas the Tank Engine and flinches at the word “sex” because she couldn’t possibly have ever had it. No grandma ever has, right?

So I’ll be talking to this grandma with wise eyes and perfectly coiffed hair, except for that messy spot that mushes up against her pillow, and she will tell me some crazy stories from the youth her family never knew she had. She thought she was so smart at fourteen, smoking in the bathroom and blowing it out the window, until she opened the door to find her father standing there. She stole away from home at seventeen to elope with a boy, only to jump out of the car at the Washita bridge in the middle of the night and run all the way home, still single. At forty, she and her friend got a wild hair one day and did a “Thelma and Louise” cross-country, but without the flying leap at the end. Ten days later, their husbands both took them back.

image from “Thelma and Louise”

And then there are the other stories. How her mother and father stopped speaking after that night he came home so late, and the family grew cold and distant. How she regretted not marrying that man she left at the Washita bridge. How her husband didn’t really die of a heart attack like she always told the world, but that he committed suicide, and she never knew why.

As humans, we have a deep need to say, “Yes. I was here. Did you see me?” We need to know we did not grow and bloom and die in a vacuum. We need validation, because parts of us are like our butts. We can’t see our butts. We may feel them, but we need a mirror or a friend to tell us what they look like. As a Hospice volunteer, I give people the gift of letting them know I see their butts. Yes. Those parts of you are here, and I see you.

Today, I’m dedicating this blog to Teri Parks, who was born into a new life almost a month ago. She loved to laugh. Not only was she the best Mrs. Claus ever, but she also threw the social event of the season every 4^th of July with a dozen fried turkeys, bubble-blowing guns, horseshoes, music, and 150 of her closest friends. The world is a little colder with her passing.

When I went to visit her on her last day, she had the greatest blessing a soul can earn in this life. A room full of loving family and friends, talking and laughing and remembering with her, confirming for her that, yes. She was here, and they saw her. All of her. And she was beautiful.

Do you have witness in your life who tells you they see your butt? Do you do that for someone else?

All the best to all of you for a week of validation.

Our Wish-We’d-Missed Connections

By Piper Bayard and Jay Holmes

Last week, two of our favorites, Jenny Hansen and Natalie Hartford, brought to our attention something called the Craigslist Missed Connections. Those are the ads people put up on Craigslist in an effort to find someone they saw in passing, or even someone they know but are too shy to approach.

Holmes and I, who are both happy with the connections we have, are more concerned with never connecting with certain people again. These are a few Wish-We’d-Missed Connections.

Cupid Triumphant by Bertel Thorvaldsen, image by Carsten Norgaard, Wikimedia Commons

Je Ne Sais Quoi

I saw you at Le Cafe Tres Cher. I am the man who was sitting with my back to the wall near the door. You are a tall, dark, mysterious woman. You had on that short red skirt and those lovely stiletto heels. What legs! Our eyes met as you sauntered past me. You had that je ne sais quoi air about you. I nearly gagged. That’s what happens when you don’t shower for three days.

For God’s sake, take some mercy on us. Ask the boys at Fire Station 17 to hose you down and then find another place to drink your damned coffee!

Clean Up on Aisle Nine

You smiled at me when our shopping carts passed in the vegetable aisle. I was startled because you look like a woman I once knew in Europe during the Cold War. You were wearing a green work out suit. Your lovely blonde hair was in a pony tail. You looked so charmingly girlish. I saw you again in the pharmacy section, and then you tried to follow me into the snack section. You smiled again, giving me chills. The last woman who smiled at me like that tried to knife me in the parking lot.

Fortunately, I was too fast for you, and when I tipped over the potato chip rack it blocked your path and I escaped. Find another place to shop, you psychopath! If I see you at my supermarket again I’m going to knock you upside the head with a frozen turkey and leave you unconscious in the refrigerator aisle to die a cold and lonely death.

Roman Holiday

Our paths crossed on the bus in Rome when I was but a shy teenage girl away from home for the first time. The bus was packed, and your body pressed against my backside. I tried to shift, certain a full grown man like you would never be comfortable being so close to an ingenue like me.

To my dismay, there was absolutely nowhere to move in the crush of flesh. But you, however, found the one way you could move, pressing your disgusting, corpulent, ancient self against me over and over. Honestly! What would your wife, children, and grandchildren think of you if they knew you behave in public like Burlusconi with a meter maid? If I ever see you again, you effing pervert, you will wish I was as nice as Lorena Bobbitt.

Virtual Reality

Holmes and I met you in the Scorpion Pit on the virtual reality game our kids got us sucked into. You began by telling my avatar, “You’re hot.”

New to the game and having no experience with cyber-mashers, I was confused, wondering how small you must be to be hitting on a three-inch computer image. While I was trying to picture that, Holmes began repeating back to you all of the pick up lines you were using on me.

Then it was your turn to be confused. You asked Holmes, “Are you a boy or a girl?”

To which Holmes replied, “I’m both. I have girl parts and boy parts.”

You said, “Wow! Really? Do you pee like a girl or like a boy?”

Holmes said, “I do both at the same time.”

Things became more absurd from there. You were clearly fascinated with Holmes’ fictional description of the body functions of a hermaphrodite, and you tried to find out where he lives for half an hour until we tired of laughing at you and blocked you. You are undoubtedly the sickest person we have ever met online. Don’t come near us. Don’t come near our families. Don’t come near our friends, and don’t come near our avatars or you will find out how well a charged up virtual Scarlett Death Arbalest works against a Smith & Wesson.

Three of these Wish-We’d-Missed Connections are real and one is false. Can you guess which one is false?

We’ll reveal the truth on Friday in The End is Near Mashup.

While you’re waiting with bated breath to find out which creep you don’t have to worry about running into, check out some Craig’s List Missed Connections over at Jenny Henson’s More Cowbell and Natalie Hartford’s Life Out Loud.

What are some connections you wish you had missed?

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Piper Bayard is a recovering attorney with a university degree or two and a belly dancer from way back. She currently pens post-apocalyptic sci-fi and spy novels with Holmes when she isn’t shooting, SCUBA diving, or chauffeuring her children.

 ‘Jay Holmes’, is an intelligence veteran of the Cold War and remains an anonymous member of the intelligence community. Piper is the public face of their partnership.

© 2012 Piper Bayard. All content on this page is protected by copyright. If you would like to use any part of this, please contact us at the above links to request permission.

The Last First Day

By Piper Bayard

Fall. The time when the years of bottles, diapers, potty training, play dates, eaten refrigerator magnets and beans up noses culminate in that most memorable of days, the First Day of Kindergarten. The day when mothers finally get to have a hot meal and possibly a drink for the first time since before pregnancy. Who care’s that it isn’t even noon?

Photo by Patsy Lynch, FEMA Photo Library, Wikimedia Commons

My son was terrified as I half drug him into the boutique charter school I had carefully vetted in my search for the foundation that would prevent him from making permanent, adult-sized dents in my couch at the age of eighteen. Back then, he still wanted to marry me when he grew up, and he thought digging in the back yard was the perfect career. With a quick hug and my best motherly assurances, I dashed away before he could see the tears streaming down my cheeks.

I spent the next two and a half hours imagining him singing with his class, frolicking at recess, and laughing with new friends. Then I rushed to pick him up, and this is what I found.

“I HATE THIS SCHOOL! THESE TEACHERS ARE MEAN, MEAN, MEAN, AND I’M NEVER COMING BACK AGAIN!”

My perfect angel was slouched in the hallway, already banished from the classroom and its bounty. Thus began our journey.

In the past eleven years, I have learned many lessons.

• The fancy charter school in the next town over is not necessarily better than the unremarkable school up the street.
• Children really ARE just like their parents.
• All teachers say they want volunteers.
• Some teachers actually do want volunteers.
• Most teachers say they want volunteers because it’s District policy, but they actually pray in their hearts that they will never, ever have to talk to a parent outside of parent/teacher conferences because parents really ARE just like their children.
• If I don’t believe everything my children say about their teachers, perhaps their teachers won’t believe everything my children say about me.

Photo of Schulers Donuts by Cindy Funk, Wikimedia Commons

• And MOST importantly, exercise liberal Donut Diplomacy. Nothing receives a higher Good Will Return Quotient than a dozen donuts strategically delivered to the office staff periodically throughout the year. Trust me. The good will of the office staff is invaluable at blasting away the inevitable obstacles in the journey, and if there are enough donuts to share with the faculty and administrators, the Good Will Benefits compound exponentially.

My son and I visited colleges this summer. Turns out he is a born engineer, and he’s still out to proove digging is a career.

Today, he and I drove his terrified baby sister to her first day of high school. Our Last First Day on our family’s public school journey. He had some advice for her.

• Don’t be narcissistic. You’ll stand out in a bad way.
• If you’re going to play volleyball when high school boys are watching, no little shorts for you. You’ll have to find a way to play it in a burka.
• Get a thicker skin. When you’re swimming with sharks, don’t bleed.

Together, we booted her out of the car with our love and the comforting lie that the three pounds she gained this week in her  “salty meats therapy session” (aka compulsive salami consumption brought on by starting-high-school anxiety) didn’t really create a muffin top.

On this Last First Day, I do my children the now rare favor of picking up their belongings and planning a special dinner for them. But only after I duct tape the refrigerator door shut on the salami and fight off the weakness in my heart that says a couple of adult-sized dents in my couch might not be so bad.

What have your First Days been like? What are the lessons you’ve learned in your educational journeys?

 

Everything I Need to Know about Twitter I Learned from Hospice

By Piper Bayard

As some of you know, I volunteered with Hospice for a time. I am also blessed with the best tweeps (Twitter friends) on the planet. So much so that lately a few people have come to me for advice about how to find such amazing tweeps. It’s simple. I treat everyone like they are about to die.

George Washington on His Deathbed by Junius Steams

No, I don’t ask them for their stuff. . . . Well, okay, there was this one woman. But I knew her melodramatic threats to kill herself with a spork while reading my first manuscript were completely insincere. I mean, she doesn’t even go camping to own a spork. Though come to think of it, I haven’t heard from her for a while. But I digress. . . .

This calls for a list. When people are dying . . .

1. We don’t judge them.

Their Judgement Day will come soon enough, and the Big It needs no assistance from us on that score.

2. We do listen to them.

In that moment, they are more important than we are so we keep our mouths shut and our ears open.

3. We do let them know they are heard.

This doesn’t mean we agree with everything they say. It means we validate that they said it. One way to let them know we heard them is to say, “That sounds . . .” Difficult, painful, amazing, intense, etc. I mean, when someone tells us their mom is in the ICU, it’s not hard to find an adjective. It does sound painful and intense. When they tell us the book contract came through, it does sound joyful.

4. We don’t argue.

Letting people know we heard what they said is not the same as agreeing with them so we are not violating our integrity when we refrain from disagreeing. “It sounds like you feel quite passionate about that.”

5. We don’t offer unsolicited advice.

Most of the time when we want to fix other people’s problems, it has nothing to do with being nice people. It’s because their misery is making us uncomfortable. So we understand that other peoples problems are not ours–we have plenty of our own–and we simply provide our presence unless they specifically ask for something more. “That sounds like a difficult situation.”

6. We don’t whine about our problems.

It’s one thing when we share the truth of our lives, such as our allergies, our sudden hospitalizations, or our sadness when a child leaves home. It’s another to whine about our hemorrhoids. (Note: Hemorrhoids are those pains in the butt that never really go away, like wretched stepmothers, drunken relatives, or abandonment issues.) Dying people may be interested in us, but NO ONE wants to hear about our life’s ‘hemorrhoids’.

7. We do validate their feelings.

When they say they are angry because a new jerk on their HOA board is going through their neighborhood counting dandelions and sending out violation notices, “I can see why you would be upset about that.”

8. We do validate their lives.

We read their words and comment on their pictures, and we let them know we are a witness to their existence. People need to know we see them.

9. We do find sincere, positive things to say.

We notice their accomplishments. We notice their efforts. We notice the beauty of the day.

10. We do show our gratitude.

We say thank you. Because every single time they share themselves with us, it is a gift we may never experience again. And every single time, they didn’t have to do it.

Making great Twitter friends is simple, because it’s like life. What we give is all that matters, and we may never get the chance to give to this person again. So treat everyone like they are dying.

Or, as William Shatner says, “Live life like you’re gonna die, because you’re gonna.”

I’d love to chat with you while we’re here. Please follow me on Twitter at@piperbayard and say hello. I always follow back humans. You can also find some awesome Twitter friends at the hashtag #theconnecter.

What social media tips would you like to share, and how did you learn them?

My sincere gratitude to each of you for sharing this moment in time with me.

One of the Many

By Piper Bayard

My family will gather at the graves today. As I think on The Ones Who Have Gone Before, echos of laughter, adages, card games, and dipped chocolates bring them to life from the mists of my memory. Each of them played a part in making me who I am.

Of them all, though, there is one in particular who I am remembering this Memorial Day Weekend. I’ve heard that we often forget what people say and do, but we never forget how we feel when we are with them. When I remember my cousin, Lee, I feel loved, safe, and happy.

I said good-bye to Lee at the airport in 1967. The year America’s graduating class went to Viet Nam. I was three years old. I called him Spook because he was born on Halloween. He called me Skunk. Probably because I was three years old.

I didn’t understand much about what was happening over there or what those little silhouette figures of bodies were on the evening news each night. But I did understand how happy we all were when he came home.

For him, the war was over except for whatever memories he would need to resolve. He married a beautiful young woman who also radiated love, safety, and laughter. His foundation for a good life was well-laid, and the world was in front of him.

When we got the phone call shortly after their marriage, it was the first time I ever saw my father cry. “He’s not dead, yet,” he said as he hung up the phone, and my mother took him in her arms.

I ran to my friend’s, and we hid in the bushes behind her house, trying to make sense of what it meant to die of cancer. It was only a few months until the funeral. I wouldn’t know for years that it was most likely due to the Agent Orange.

Somehow, I ended up with his black mohair sweater. I probably pulled it out of a box destined for Goodwill. I needed some token. Some cocoon that would wrap me in the love, safety, and happiness that I always felt when I was with him. Unless my family reads this blog, they will never know my daughter’s middle name is in his honor.

We hear a lot about Special Forces, Navy Seals, and Green Berets, but most of our veterans are none of those. They are like Lee. Men and women who answer their country’s call. They do their duty, often risking their lives. Often losing them. The ones who survive grow and change, collect their scars, and move on as best they can without any lauds or fanfare.

To all veterans, thank you for your service. Like the faces from the mists of my memory, I would not be who I am and have the life I have without you.

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Today, I’m heading to Vancouver Island with my family, leaving our house sitter, Parker, in charge of our turtle and guinea pig for the next two weeks. Since I will have no telephone and only spotty internet, I wish you well now. Holmes and I will return on June 10. Have a great two weeks!

All the best to all of you in building memories of love, safety, and laughter.