I have always been a bit of psychology dork.  I enjoy reading through articles in Psychology Today.  I like finding facts and links to certain things, especially when it comes to effects of social media.  I don't know why it took a Netflix documentary for people to see what I've been saying for literally years....social media takes a toll on our psyche.  But I digress.  Often times in my explorations, I come across something that I find interesting and I feel the need to share it.  My latest is "victim mentality".  

When I first started delving into this topic, I was thinking that we all have victim mentality at times.   I was thinking of how anxiety plays a role in this as well.  Anxiety likes to tell you that when someone doesn't text you back in 5 seconds, they are mad at you, hence you are the "victim".  I was wrong.   Now, the interesting thing is, if I had victim mentality, I would not be able to actually see that I was wrong.  I would be of the belief that I was correct, but no one wanted to make that connection.  I would be of the belief that people were purposely hiding the truth about anxiety and how it affects victim mindset.  I would do everything in my power to find links just to say I was right.  Well, in this day and age, I can actually find those links, but they are from Jane Doe who decided to spout her beliefs and act as though they are fact.  There is no research behind it.  Things like this then actually feed into victim mentality.  My anxiety made me feel this way.  Well, yes, there are definitely ways your anxiety makes you feel, but victimized it not one of them.   Victim mentality can lead to depression or anxiety, but those are symptoms, not causes.

I have actually been quite surprised with where my research has taken me with this topic.   Victim mentality is classified as a personality disorder as opposed to a mental illness.  This basically means that, while those with victim mentality want to blame the fact they have a disorder, they actually can't use that as an excuse because it is something they can overcome.  It is not misfirings in the brain, it is a perception or belief.  A personality disorder can cause a person to fail to reach their personal potential if not changed. 

In our house, we have discussed egocentrism for years and years and years.  My kids knew the word "egocentric" when they were three.  I feel the need to explain what this word means since it happens to be 9th grade vocabulary word that most of the kids in my son's advanced language arts class didn't know.  Egocentrism is thinking only of oneself with no regard to others, self-centered.  Most children outgrow their egocentric phase by age 9 at the latest.  It's normal and natural for all of us to have self-centered moments, but that is what they are , moments.  Why does it seem like I've shifted gears here?  Because it's actually all connected.  Those with personality disorders, especially victim mentality, are egocentric.  They have a belief that everything is happening to them.  They are the center of it all.  

It is important to see this connection because a lot of the time, those with victim mentality are seeking outside attention,  They don't care if that attention is positive or negative.  Being a teacher, especially dealing with children who are still in the egocentric phase, I have seen kids act out and parents not understand why since the attention they get is negative.   The reason is, that for some kids, negative attention is better than no attention.   We have all seen these people all grown up.  They are the kids in high school who act out in class on a normal basis.  They are the employees at work who have to make a big deal on how unfair everything is or how they are the smartest ones there.  I'm not talking about an occasional outburst, but constant behavior of having to be heard, whether it gets them good or bad attention.  It is most likely that these people are suffering some sort of personality disorder.   I found one quote that was actually very interesting.   Studies from the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology have found that playing victim leads to a sense of entitlement and selfish behavior.  This then snowballs.  These people then start to create situations in which they will receive special treatment.  When their attempts are ignored, they lash out until and change to anger to get what they want.  Have you ever dealt with a person who, when you don't show them the pity they are desiring, flips and becomes angry instead?  This is what it means.  If the cycle is not broken, it can lead to permanent behavioral changes.  

Victim mentality has appeared to become more prevalent in our society in the past years. Here's where I thought for sure my research would show it's all because of social media.  I was incorrect, again--  second time with my assumptions on this particular subject.   Social media helps magnify personality disorders but does not have a direct link to causing them. Those with a victim mentality have a tendency to be more drawn to social media.   Social media amplifies, or maybe the better term is justifies, those with victim mentality because they see others like them.  No, I'm not saying everyone on social media has a personality disorder, I'm saying that social media feeds into the "look at me" part of personality disorders.   If you go back to my first sentence of this paragraph, I state, "has appeared".  This is also where social media comes into play.  Before social media, there were probably just as many people with personality disorders, but in our technologically advanced age, we can see it on a greater scope.  Through this, please note my use of the term "personality disorders".  While victim mentality is my main focus, there are common threads of most personality disorders and I feel the need to make it clear certain points are all encompassing.   So, as much as I would like to say that social media creates victim mentality, it does not.  It is still a dangerous platform for those who seek attention, especially when that platform gets taken away or a post, picture, etc doesn't get as many responses as desired, which links to the above research findings that when a person does not get the attention they desire, they lash out in anger.  

So, after all the research and what's not related to victim mentality, what does it look like?  There are several key traits to identifying victim mentality.  Those with victim mentality tend to:  avoid responsibility, not seek out possible solutions, may feel powerless,  have negative self-talk; self-sabotage, lack confidence, have a great deal of frustration, anger and resentment.  Avoiding responsibility is one of the key traits.  "It's not my fault," is a key phrase, usually followed by some excuse.  A lot of the time that excuse is placing blame on someone else.  It's not my fault, my teacher/boss doesn't like me.  It's not my fault, so and so did this instead of that.  It's not my fault my mom/dad/wife/husband didn't do it.  The other key traits is having a lot of frustration, anger and resentment.  No one likes me.  They are always picking on me (with no evidence, because there is a line of bullying).  I'm the only one who ever gets in trouble.   We all say and feel a lot of these things.  The difference is overcoming them.  We change the situation.  Those with victim mentality will have the same excuse and behaviors no matter how many times they change schools, jobs, friends, etc.  

It is fine line when deciding if a person is actually being victimized or if they are only perceiving the victimization.  Especially with children, we want to protect them and make sure they are not being bullied or hurt in any way.  There are definitely teachers out there that don't like certain students.  Yes, they may be tougher on those students, but that like or dislike does not typically impact grades.  Yes, they can grade certain things more harshly, but, for the most part, an answer is either right or wrong and can be proven.  We never want to assume a child is not being bullied when they say they are.  This is where it gets harder.  For me, this part is the hardest because I had a child who was bullied and you never want to assume that your child is making it up.  Yet, for victim mentality, at the younger ages, they feel like everyone is against them and they are being singled out.  In adults, you see this mentality with no matter what job the person has, co-workers or bosses are always unfair or out for them.  (Sidenote, my next dorky research is going to be on narcissistic personality disorder because that plays a huge role in workforce issues as well).  The biggest difference between victim and victim mentality is how you change the situation.  Do you want others to change the situation for you every time or do you try to work it out on your own?  It all circles back around to egocentrism and the need for attention.  Victims do not want your pity, but those with victim mentality do because, again, negative attention is better than no attention.    

Can this cycle of victim mentality be broken?   Yes, unfortunately, though, for a lot of adults with this personality disorder, it's actually become critical to who they are and how they live.  They seek out people who enable them.  They thrive on putting themselves and those they love into into positions that are negative.  Adults with victim mentality often have children with personality disorders, depression, or anxiety.  Often times, one personality disorder can lead to acquiring other personality disorders.  It's not uncommon to see someone who has victim mentality also have narcissistic personality disorder as well (see how I pulled that in there).  A lot of times these people will develop OCD tendencies, especially if they see that it gets them attention, which they desire.  When left to grow, victim mentality can lead to depression, rage, and isolation.  

I would love to get more detailed with all of this, but I know this is starting to sound like a research paper!  If anyone who read this is interested in learning more, there are several good resources I used.   These are the ones that weren't so clinical.  Don't worry, I did fact check through several different sources.  

https://www.healthline.com/health/victim-mentality#signs
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/traversing-the-inner-terrain/201102/the-victim-identity
http://www.mentalmenace.com/personalitydisorders.php
​

We tend to hide who we are from the outside world.  We show people only what we want them to see.  With social media, this is has become an even easier thing to do.  Look at how together I am.  Look at how much fun I have.  Look at what an awesome parent/grandparent/etc I am.  But we only show part of the picture.  

I have been fairly good about being who I am, flaws and all.  Still, there are many things no one sees.  To the outside world, I'm an organized, motivated individual who normally has her shit together. In my head, I'm far from that. I'm a frantic mess, no matter how calm I appear.  I am strong and independent.  So much so that people forget there are times I can break.  It was a hard week.  I've had more hard weeks than easy weeks during the past year, but this past one was of the top three hardest.  There's not any reason in particular.  It was everything and nothing.  

Monday, I cried.  What people don't know is that I cry all the time, not crazy crying, but small bouts of tears.  I seem like nothing bothers me, but everything actually bothers me.  I take on the weight of the world.  Monday was different  Monday was breakdown sobbing all day long.  I came home from taking the kids to school and I sat in my hallway in tears for a good 20 minutes.  I've always been big on giving yourself time to feel what you're feeling.  I have been holding it in for so long, I felt maybe I just needed that release.  After 20 minutes, I picked myself and got on with my day.  Except I didn't.  I took laundry downstairs and burst in tears.  I washed dishes sobbing.  I sat in my car picking kids up from school and cried before they got in.  I sat in the karate parking lot waiting for the boy, almost hysterical.  It was literally all day and I couldn't stop it.  I'd be fine for bit of time and then, out of the blue, a wreck.  My family had no idea what to do for me.

The thing about only allowing people to see what you want them to see is that when they see you fall apart, they have no idea what to do.  They tiptoe around you.  There are a lot of pitiful, "Are you OK?" or "Tell me what's wrong."   Sometimes, yes, I need comfort, but I don't want to be treated like I'm a sad little puppy.  In the days leading up to my crappy week, I was having an anxiety moment.  My friend happened to text me at just the wrong time - or rather wrong time for her, right time for me.  I just laid it all out.  This is what she said, "What I'm hearing you say is......Is that correct?"  Then she didn't tell me I was stupid or make me feel pitiful, instead she said, "Let me see what I can find out about that."  It was direct and to the point and exactly what was needed. 

There is huge guilt that comes with anxiety.  Guilt from so many different areas, but one place the guilt comes from is letting people see the vulnerable side of you.  It's actually more than guilt.  It's shame.  Shame for burdening someone else with your problems.  Shame for breaking down.  Shame for not being able to cope.  Most of the time the fear of experiencing that sort of shame and guilt is enough to not let anyone in.  It is rare, that I ever let anyone in because of what I feel after.  I can't tell you the number of times I've sat in my car trying to decide if I should go see my person so I could get a hug (pre-COVID) and then sucked it up and decided not to.  My person would never, ever think any less of me or judge me, it's all about how I feel about myself.  

With social media and a pandemic, the shame and guilt of anxiety has been taken up to a whole other level.  Had so much fun with friends this weekend!  #blessed.  Just painted my third room of the house this week.  #motivated  Just finished my last Beachbody workout #strong  People post this crap all day long.  They do it to make themselves feel better.  They do it because they are hiding.  I'm guilty of it, too, so don't think I'm bashing everyone out there.   I do think that there is a level of awareness certain people have though.  I know that with the good, comes the bad.  I try to find beauty in each day, even if it's messy and ugly.  There is a reason we are going through it.  Without the hard moments, you can't really be grateful.  Those hashtags people use are a load of crap the majority of the time.  They are used to make you see what they want you to see.  For me, if I could have gotten a picture in the moment that my friend said to me, "So what I'm hearing you say..." , it would have been raw and ugly, but there was nothing I was more grateful for in that moment.  Those are things no one wants you to see.  Those are things no one wants to share on social media.  And it's wrong.  

We've created a world for our children where all they see is the perfect.  Look at my perfect life.  We've created a world where we encourage our children to remain hidden from who they truly are.  If you don't fit into the perfect little mold that social media is portraying, you are not good enough.  I can't tell you the number of conversations we have had with our children regarding this.  But we can't just preach, we need to put it into practice as well.  That's why my kids do see me breakdown.  That's why my kids see me and Husband fight.  That's why some of my posts are uncomfortable for people.  That's why my pictures aren't always picture perfect.  I show the messy, but there is so much more that no one will see.   No one.  It's what we all do.  We need to teach our kids that there is balance.  We need to teach them it's OK to hide certain parts, but be true to who they are.  Don't listen to what people put out for the world to see because it's only part of the truth.  Know your truth and own it, but it's also fine not to show all of you.   Just remember to not lose who you are in what you want others to see. 

​

Today is our seventh "first" day of this school year.  It's the seventh because we're the last half of the alphabet and one school is hybrid, which means when the one kid goes to non-hybrid, then we wait one day for the other one to go to the hybrid school.   Since school has changed multiple times this year, it has given our family 7 first days.  Today is the first day of non hybrid for both.   Today marks 325 days since my son has gone to school 5 days a week in a building.  

School is one of my anxiety triggers (I'd like to thank Monster's one first grade teacher for that).  The first day is always the hardest day for me.  Husband usually takes the day off to keep my mind off of it so that I just make it through.   This year, I knew the first day was going to be hard.  One starting high school and one starting middle school.  I was prepared....sort of.  When we were informed the first 4 weeks of school would be online, I was thrilled.  I had more time.  Then, the first day of in person came.   Sunshine started first.  It was fine because it was 6th grade and she had friends in almost every class.  I could handle that.  Two days later, the boy started in person high school.  It was fine.  It was all fine.  I made it through.  Then, several weeks later when COVID cases in the schools spiked due to parties, we were back online.  That made the fourth first day, with yet another new online format.  Two weeks ago, Sunshine went back for yet another first day back to in person.  The next day, Monster went back and they were following yet a different school model..  Six first days and 4 new formats for learning.  Today marks the 5th new learning model the boy has had this year and his 5th first day, making it out family's 7th first day.  The rest of the first days have been tough, but this one may break me. 

I have amazing friends who know how hard the first days are for me.  Each new first day, I had friends texting me and bringing  me coffee to make sure I was doing OK.  Today is harder because I have nothing to do.  When I say nothing, I mean I have a lot to do, but no one around to keep my mind off of the fact that this is, yet again, something new this year.   There is only so much you can do before your mind starts wandering.  Are they OK?  What are they doing?  Do they need help?  Do they know what do to do if they do need help? 

Today is also hard because of my lack of faith in humanity.  I went to a small all girl Catholic high school and came from a tiny Catholic grade school.  I'm not exaggerating when I say my schools were small.  My entire 8th grade consisted of 14 people.  My graduating class in high school was 87 people.  What I know about public school high schools comes from movies, television, and books.  Hence my fear and lack of faith in humanity.   Monster is small for his age.  It can't be easy being 5'1" and a freshman boy.  Add to that a pandemic that 50% of the population doesn't take seriously and all of the unrest in our country, it puts my anxiety into overdrive.   The boy's 4th first day, happened to be Inauguration Day.  I'm not going to lie, I was terrified for his safety.  Not because of any of our beliefs, but because there is so much anger and hatred in this country right now.  Now, with everyone back at school, I feel this even more.  I am doing my best to not try to think of Sandy Hook, or Parkland, or Columbine (obviously not thinking of the is working quite well....)  

Deep down, I know it will be fine, but I am counting down the minutes until I go pick up the high school kids.  I did not ask the boy to text me to let me know how his day was going, even though I really hope he decides to do that on his own.  He's got his and I don't need to micromanage.  I know that it will get easier, but each first day is a punch to the stomach for my anxiety.  We have 16 weeks left of school.  I can do this.  I can do anything for 16 weeks.  Then, I have my babies with me again for a short time until I get to go through the first day all over again.  Hopefully, there will only be one first day next year, but I guess that depends on our society.  Going to stay positive and think it will only be one first day that I have to suffer through next school year.  That give me 6 months to prepare.  I better get on that.

​

2020 was one giant leap for my anxiety.....backwards.   One year took away years, and I do literally mean years, of progress.  People who know me well, they know that one of my main triggers for anxiety is sickness.  Enter global pandemic.  That, alone, kicked everything up a notch for me.  Eventually, that calmed down, until Sunshine got quarantined and cases spiked.. Since that moment, a series of events has taken my anxiety over the edge. It took 282 days into the pandemic for me to break.  That's pretty good.  I'm sure people were taking bets on it being way earlier.  On Dec 19, my mind had my kids orphaned.  I was literally trying to figure out if, when my son was 16, he could get emancipated and get custody of his sister.  My mind had my children in the hospital, and either Husband or myself would never get to see them again since only one parent can be there.  My mind had me as a single mother and trying to figure out how to live as a family of 3.  People with anxiety read this and right away understand how I got there. People reading this without anxiety can not possibly know how these feelings, though not very logical, are so real and so painful that you can barely function.  There were literally 5 people who knew what was going on with me, and of those 5, only 3 knew how bad it was.  I avoided answering my person's question, "How are you?", because I knew I couldn't lie to her.  I sidestepped the question every time.  Telling her would make it all too real (and I'm still not going to talk about it, so please don’t ask).  

My social anxiety has gotten so much worse this year as well.  I mean, we’re not supposed to be social, so it stands to reason that this would get worse since I’m not forced to do it.  There is a misconception with social anxiety.  People tend to think of it as having trouble being around people.  This is only partially true.  It is actually so much more complicated than that.  People are usually shocked to learn I have social anxiety because I can talk to anyone.  The reason I can talk to anyone is because of my anxiety.  I get so nervous around people that I just talk.  I then spend hours, weeks, months, years, going over what I said and how I shouldn’t have said it or how I should have said something else, but I do talk.  Talking face to face with people is the easy part.  Phone calls, which were extremely painful before, are nearly impossible now.  Even talking to friends on the phone has become extremely difficult.  Then we bring in Zoom.  There is literally one person I can Zoom with and even then, it’s uncomfortable for me, even though this person and I used to get weekly coffee and talk.  

I’m not exaggerating when I say it took me years to build up the courage to take my kids to certain places on my own.  The work I put into that one was intense and done very precisely and intentional.  I started small and moved up.  By the summer of 2019, I was taking my kids to all sorts of new places.  This year, I could barely muster up the courage to take my kids berry picking by myself, which is something we’ve done for more years than I can remember.  Certain things, such as going canoeing, have made me nervous in the past, but I’ve worked on it and overcome those fears.  This year, I couldn’t go out canoeing with my kids.  I had full on panic attacks even thinking about it.   Husband made me get in the canoe with him and go around the lake to work on it, but even then, I could only go about ¼ of the distance we usually go before I started to hyperventilate.  I took my dog for a walk and another dog jumped the fence and came after her. Everyone was fine.  The owner came and got the dog.  The dog never touched me or my dog. Yet,  I had to call my husband when I was only a mile from home to come get us because of a panic attack.  Now, I can’t walk my dog alone.  I’ve never had a problem walking my dog alone, even when my old dog got attacked on a walk as a puppy.  I went to apply for a board position, not even an actual job, and I couldn’t get past my name and address.  The worst part is that it was a position I would have been great at and I really wanted.  

Things changed from even the beginning of this pandemic to now.  At the beginning, the kids, dog and I hiked new parks almost daily.  I’m not sure what changed or when, maybe it was the dog jumping the fence, but I started to not take the dog.  Then, I started to stick to trails we had already done.  Now, we’re back to walking the neighborhood instead of going to parks unless Husband comes with us.  If it wasn’t a for a friend of mine and her daughter, there are many things I wouldn’t have done this year.  She went berry picking with us.  She went hiking new places with us.  She took us paddleboarding (strange I could get on a paddleboard, but not in a canoe).  She explored new places with us.  I’m fairly certain that without her this summer, I would have become a hermit.  

I am determined to get back to where I was, but I also know it’s going to be a long, hard journey.  I’ve already started taking baby steps.  I’ve done so much to overcome so much that I look at how much I have regressed and I wonder what the point of even trying is.  Then, I look at my kids.  I’ve overcome so much because I want to give them the best lives I can.  I will continue to fight through my anxiety because they deserve a mom who won’t give up.  A friend of mine told me about a podcast she listens to.  She said that it suggested that instead of worrying about trying to get this year back to some sort of status quo or pre-pandemic normal, that we should make 2021 about healing.  This year has broken me in ways that I didn't know I could break.  I think I'm beyond healing, so, maybe I make 2021 about picking up pieces and creating something new.  Something better.  Something stronger.  

​

This year, there was no traditional handstand in the pool picture. There was no walk on the beach after Christmas dinner.  Instead, there was a foot of snow we got to shovel.  My kids have never experienced a Christmas this cold.  Christmas, however, is not about where you are, but rather who you are with.  Christmas is almost always just the 4 of us, so we were not missing out on being with family.  The only difference it made not being away for Christmas was the amount of work I had to do....or maybe, rather, felt I needed to do.  Our Christmases do not usually consist of presents.  We specifically ask Santa not to bring presents to where we are because then we'd have to figure out how to transport them all home!  There are usually one or two gifts we bring, which are normally books and games, so the kids have something more to do.  Being home meant a lot of clean-up.  Of course there is clean-up involved whenever we get home, but it's never on Christmas Day.  This year, there was no traditional nap for me.  There was washing new clothes, putting away new items, installing new computer software, hanging tapestries, and finding room for all of the new things that my "add to cart" addiction of 2020 brought.  

There were still Christmas traditions we upheld.  We baked cookies for family and friends.  Our elf brought jammies for the kids on Christmas Eve.  We left cookies for Santa.  We had our traditional spaghetti dinner. We played games as a family.  We listened to Christmas music.  Know what?  My kids missed nothing.  Of course they were bummed we weren't swimming and playing on the beach, but they were just happy to be together was a family.  Husband and I thought that this year was going to upset our kids, but, honestly, it upset us way more than it upset them. 

We have a fleeting 18 years with our kids before they are off on their own.  We want to make every moment count.  What we sometimes forget is that it truly is about the moments.   Moments are made regardless of your location.  My kids both thought this was one of the best Christmases.  They also thought this was one of the best years.  The reason is because we are together.  We are truly with each other.  There is no stress of having to run and see people.  There was nowhere to go and nothing to do.  Just us, together.  I didn't even take many pictures this year because we were so caught up being in the moment.  

Next year, no matter where we are, it will be amazing because we'll be together.

​

2020 has wreaked havoc with my anxiety.  My mental state for the past 10 months has been less than stable.  I have had more panic attacks this year than I have had in many, many years.  I have cried almost daily.  We have faced many challenges, more than we let on.  We have had huge disappointments.   Yet, when I can get out of my own mind and look back, we've actually had a good year.  

When school was cancelled March 12, we easily transitioned to online learning.  It sucked that my kids couldn't be with their friends, but my kids are smart and good students, so they excelled at online learning.  They read more books (because their mom saw library shut downs coming and ran to the library and took out literally almost 100 books).  We went for daily walks together.  Soccer and softball were cancelled, which was sad, but karate and dance transitioned to Zoom, so my kids still got to do things they loved.  We played soccer and softball as a family to keep up our skills.  Sunshine taught herself to crochet.  We painted pottery.  We built new desks. Sunshine's birthday was not the same, but her closest friends came by and stood in the driveway to talk, decorated the porch, and chalked the driveway.  Even our neighbor put Happy Birthday signs in their window for her.  The day was not how she planned, but it was still special.  Monster's birthday was a little tougher because we have a baseball tradition, but baseball was cancelled.  Boys are different than girls, so there was no porch decorating or sidewalk chalking.  Monster doesn't need any of that, though.  He still had a great day and we made it special.  My parents were able to come, sit outside with masks, 6 feet away, and enjoy a cookout to celebrate.  I almost cut my finger off, which actually makes a funny story for this birthday.  

Online school ended and we moved into summer.  My kids missed out on so many of the "graduation" things because they were in transition grades, one to high school, one to middle school.  People in our community rallied to make the kids in these transition grades feel special.  June 3, things slowly started opening back up.  Sunshine got to head back into the dance studio and Monster got to head back to the dojo.  Our summer nights were slower with no softball, but that doesn't mean we weren't busy.  Summer brought almost daily hikes at places we've never been.  We "traveled" around the different Metroparks to try out as many different trails as we could.  Sunshine took up tennis and added a summer dance class.  Monster tested for his next level black belt and started teaching his own classes.  Monster took online classes to get a jump start on high school and get some basics out of the way so he had room in his schedule for classes he wanted to take, like Computer Science.  Sunshine saw her BFF more this summer than she had since they were about 5 (outside and distanced).  We got to try out paddle boarding for the first time, and learned we really like it!  We spent more time at my mother-in-law's lake house (just the 4 of us, to not spread germs).  We had more campfires and s'mores this summer than ever before.  We did fun activities we normally don't have time for, like cupcake wars and research projects (yes, this is fun for my family).  We still got to do some of our traditional summer activities like pick strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries.  

​Fall came along and seemed to go by in the blink of an eye.  We had karate and dance as usual, but also got to have a soccer season.  Even though it was shortened, it was better than nothing.  We still got to hang out with Sunshine's BFF more than normal.   Kids started school online, which allowed time for our family walks.  After 4 weeks, kids went back to school, one full time, one two days a week.  Two days a week gave me and Monster a lot of one on one time.  He and I took some beautiful hikes and have deepened our relationship.   Sunshine got to actually interact with her friends more since there was in-person school.  Once again, her friends showed her how much she means to them.  She had to be quarantined over Halloween due to close contact at school (she was fine).  Her friends rallied and brought her stuff to pass her time.   Since her Halloween plans were destroyed, her BFF came over and we sat, 6 feet away and masked, in our driveway and talked.  

The transition into winter has been a little tougher.  Kids moved back into online schooling the week before Thanksgiving. Unfortunately for Sunshine, she had only been back in school for 3 days before school shutting down again.  However, this transition to online learning was much easier.  High school has more instruction time than they have had all year.  Middle school teachers are amazing and have done such a great job making online learning the best they can.  My kids are actually learning, which is great.  Yes, it's different.  Yes, it's more difficult than in person, but the teachers have done a great job.  Thanksgiving was low key and extremely relaxing. Dec 1, Ohio decided it was time for some snow and we actually had our first (and by the sound of it, only) snow day of the year.  My kids went sledding and played out in the snow for hours.   Sunshine was able to take part in a street "parade" dance.  Monster got to test his first private student in karate.   We've baked dozens upon dozens of cookies.  We've still taken a multitude of walks.  As soon as the ski resort is able to make snow, we've got our days booked to go.

Even though my anxiety has been off the charts and there were days I didn't think I would make it through, I can't deny we've still had a good year.  December has been harder than anticipated, but we're getting through.  No matter what my mental state, there are truths that demand to be seen.  The truth is, 2020 had some seriously sucky moments, but overall, it was a pretty good year.  

I am a visual/kinesthetic learner.    Mostly visual though.  This is why I would rewrite my notes about 100 times before a test.  This is why when my kids ask me for help with their homework, I have to actually see the question.  This is why I was always awful at 'Around the World' in school.    This is why I write.  Sometimes, though, even writing can't get across my meaning.  

I have love photography ever since my grandpa got me a camera when I was about 7 years old.  I took pictures of everything.  I still look at life as though through the lense of a camera.  I see good and beauty all around me.

I have been trying to do a gratitude journal for years.  It has never stuck.  I just can't seem to find the right words.  I know the journal is just for me, but when I get stuck, it makes it difficult to keep going.  It makes what I feel grateful for, a little less.  

A few days ago, I was sitting on my couch, drinking tea, waiting for my kids to get out of class.  You see, they are online and I can't do anything while they are in school.  I know that seems crazy, but our bandwidth does not allow me to work on my computer or use any sort of electronic or else they get kicked out of their classes.  I would like to be clear though, I'm extremely grateful for the new online program that the district implemented.  It gives the students so much more time with their teachers.  That being said, I fill my time with things that do not require bandwidth.  Every so often, I get a little break and can sit and drink my tea.  As my tea was sitting on the table, I noticed the steam coming from it.  It was beautiful.  I was memorized by it.  I knew I needed to try to capture the beauty.  I took about 20 pictures, none of them doing it justice.   I then thought about how grateful I was to be able to see the beauty, even if the picture looked like nothing.  It was a feeling.  When I looked at the pictures, even though they didn't do the steam from that tea justice, I still had that feeling of gratitude for the time I could sit and drink the tea-for being able to witness the beauty in the moment.  

It was then that I thought, why does a gratitude "journal" have to be in words?  The answer is, it doesn't.  I have started a gratitude photo gallery, so to speak, on Instagram.  I don't feel like I need to post things every day, but I most likely will for a bit of time at least.  I'm doing it for me, but maybe it will inspire others to see the beauty in the everyday things.  Maybe it will inspire others to be grateful for the little things.  If you feel like heading on this journey with me, you can follow me on Instagram.   

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I recently received two wonderful gifts.  One, was a necklace, that I truly feel undeserving of.  In my Fat Layer post, I wrote about making soup for a friend of a friend.  I did it because it made my heart happy.  I did it to ease as many hearts that were breaking as I could, and take the burden off of those that needed the burden lifted.  The second gift I received was a text.  That may not seem like a gift, but it was a text telling me that muffins I delivered arrived at the exact right moment.  Little did I know when I made the muffins that the person I made them for was having a rough day.  Knowing that I helped make someone’s day brighter was one of the best gifts I could ever receive.  

Kindness is always the right choice.  For me, it is honestly that simple.  It is that black and white.  I am not saying, drop everything in your life to help others.  I am saying, when you can, choose kindness.  

Kindness comes in many different forms.  Smiling at someone, holding open the door (yes, I know we aren’t supposed to do that anymore, but it’s ingrained in me and I will continue to hold doors), returning someone’s shopping cart (again, not supposed to do that anymore…), baking cookies, sending a text, making a phone call, letting someone out in front of you while driving, shoveling a driveway, etc, etc.  Kindness does not have to be a huge gesture.  It does not have to cost a lot.

Sometimes, kindness is also being mindful and making hard choices.  Monday, I ran to Aldi.  Pre-pandemic, you would see a lot of kindness at Aldi.  People giving each other their carts. People letting others go first in line if they had only a few items.  People saying, “Excuse me”, when they were in the way.  Post-pandemic, Aldi is a whole different ball game.   Not only can people not follow the simple rules like masks and one way aisles, but there is no leaving your cart, no letting people in front of you, and zero, “excuse me”’s, even when the people are going the wrong way in the aisle.  What happened Monday would have been shocking on a normal basis, but, post-pandemic, it’s even more so.  When I came out of Aldi, there was a cart that someone had left.  I thought that was nice.  I thought that if I didn’t need my Aldi quarter, I’d leave mine.  Then, I noticed something inside the cart.  It was a $100 bill.  When I told this much of the story to my kid, he immediately said, “That’s awesome!  You made $100!”  Then I finished my story.  I left it.  There was no one around me.  I had just come out of the store.  I looked at the money and thought how helpful it would be this time of year, but then I thought of how rude it would be for me, who just finished my shopping, to take something that was obviously left to help out someone with their shopping.  I walked away from the money, hoping that whomever got the cart next truly needed it.  I’m not telling this story to make me look like a saint.  Rather, to to remind people kindness also comes in thinking of others.   Would $100 make my life a little easier right now?  Of course, but $100 may also be the difference between someone having to make the choice between food or gifts for their family.  I am fortunate that I don’t have to make that choice, and that’s why I left it.  

There are times where being kind is extremely hard, and that’s when it’s most important. Kindness does not equal weakness.  Kindness does not equal naivety.  My hope is that I model to my children how kindness can change a person’s day.  My hope is that my children choose kindness, even when it’s hard.  People will take advantage of kindness, but, hopefully, more often than not, kindness will be met with kindness.  

Jewel said it best back in the 90’s, “In the end, only kindness matters”.

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Waking up on Christmas morning each year, I remember the excitement.   The way my house was growing up, I would come downstairs and see the tree immediately.  It was always magical.  But, my favorite part wasn't unwrapping what was under the tree.  I would stop, look at the wonder of the tree and then run down one more set of stairs to the family room.  There, the stockings were hung by our fireplace. I would impatiently wait for my parents to come down so that I could open my stocking and see what Santa had left me.  I could have done without all of the gifts under the tree and just had my stocking and been content.  

While in college, I would come home and there was always consistency.  The stockings were always hung in the same place.  Santa still filled them the most wonderful things.  Once Husband and I moved to our first place, we tried to get cute matching stockings.  That's what you do when you move out and get your own place, right?  You and your significant other get matching stuff so that everything looks all uniform.  It immediately didn't feel right.  My grandma made my stocking when I was a baby.  My dad had his from when he was little.  We ended up buying my mom one when I was young because she didn't have one of her own.  Santa would always just hang up a sock and I wanted to make sure she had one of her very own.  Husband's grandmother made his stocking.  The following year, our parents gave us our childhood stockings.  We hung them by our little fireplace in our little townhouse and it felt more like Christmas.  It wasn't picture perfect, but, to us, it felt right.

When Monster was born, I knew he needed his own handmade stocking.  It was important to me.  I didn't want to go out and just buy one that anyone could buy.  Everyone who knows me knows I don't sew, so this was a big deal.  With a lot of help (and very little of me actually making it) Monster got his own handmade stocking.  It didn't even come close to matching mine or husband's, but it was his and it was unique.  Then Sunshine was born.  Obviously, she needed a stocking of her own.  Monster went with me to help pick out material. I was smart enough not to attempt making it myself, so a dear friend (who helped with Monster's) did it for me!   Each stocking on our mantel was made by someone who loved us.  Each stocking is unique.  There are no others in the entire world that are like ours.  We can not run out to the store and grab another one to replace it.  When the kids were born, we did not have to ditch all of the other stockings because we couldn't find exact matches.  The stockings hung by our chimney are the stockings all of us have had since we were babies.  Each one made with love, especially for us.  Santa has filled the stockings in Florida for years.  This will be the first year in many that they will be filled in our own house.  

I am sure that when my kids get married and have their own families, they will probably want picture perfect matching stockings, but I hope they don't.  I hope their childhood stockings are filled with such Christmas magic and memories that they want to share them with their families.  I hope that they ask me to make their children's stockings (and then I beg someone who can see to help me!).  There is something wonderful and comforting and downright magical about bringing your childhood traditions into your own house.  I pray that magic finds its way into my children's houses when they are grown.

This is not a post about weight.  In fact, it has more to do with eating food than dieting or getting fit.  You see, I'm a stress baker.   Since March, I have gone through close to 90 lbs of flour, 20 lbs of sugar, and a pound of yeast (and for anyone who knows anything about yeast this is crazy!)  I have made dozens upon dozens of cookies.  I have baked more loaves of bread than I can count.  I started making my own sub buns, which my family now expects as opposed to just buying them at the store.   I’m pretty sure my friends and neighbors are getting sick of the amount of treats I’m leaving on their door steps!  

In  addition to baking, I’ve been making soup.  I’ve made more soup this year than in the past, which is funny since I’m the only one who eats it.  I have been making chicken stock and freezing it to use in different recipes instead of having to buy canned.  I’ve mentioned before that my mom is not a baker and doesn’t make much from scratch, but one thing she always made from scratch was chicken soup.  I love my mom’s chicken soup.  It’s my comfort food.  Two years ago, I finally asked my mom for the recipe.  The first time I made it, it was awful.  I mean it was almost inedible.  My mom asked me about fat on it.  Now, I remember my mom getting excited about the fat on her soup and I always thought it was weird.  Even that first time she asked me, I thought it was odd.  No, there's no fat on it.  My mom told me it needed fat for the flavor.  I still thought she was insane.  I KNEW I could make soup like hers and not have the fat.  It’s been so ingrained in us that fat is bad. So, I tried again.  This time a tiny layer of fat formed.  It was so small, it was hard to scrape off without just mixing it back in.  This time, the soup was slightly better.  Maybe there was something to what my mom was saying.  The more I made the soup, the better I got at it and the more fat there was.  There’s a trick to this, but I’m not giving up my secrets.  My mom was definitely right, the flavor comes from the fat.  My soup has gotten much more flavorful since I started making it.  It’s actually pretty darn good.  It’s still not my mom’s, but it never will be.  I’m pretty sure she adds extra love to it to make it special for me.  

Last week, a friend asked for soup recipes.  I gave her my amazing tortellini soup recipe.  After I gave it to her, she told me the soup was for a friend of hers that is dying.  Her friend wants soup, so she is making sure her friend gets soup.  I told her that if she could give me a week to get the ingredients, I would happily make my chicken soup for her.  Monday I got started.  I roasted the chicken that morning and had soup by the evening.  Tuesday morning when I pulled it out of the fridge, there it was, the most glorious fat layer that my soup has ever gotten.  I was way too excited about this fat.  I shared with my kids and made them look at it.  They were not impressed.  As I scraped that fat layer off, I felt a huge sense of pride.  This was by far my best batch of soup I’ve made, and to make it even better, it’s going to (hopefully) brighten someone’s day.  

It was in that fat layer that I realized I’m so lucky because I still find joy in the small things.  That fat layer inspired me to bake 5 loaves of bread and 5 dozen cookies yesterday.  My kitchen looked like a tornado went through and I was exhausted by bedtime, but it was worth it.  I dropped cookies off to friends, froze two loaves of zucchini bread, gave a neighbor lemon bread, got a loaf of Italian Herb and Cheese ready to go with the soup, and sliced a loaf of Italian Herb and Cheese for us for dinner.  Husband came home and looked around and commented on how every surface in the kitchen had bread on it.  It did and it felt great.  

It’s the little things, like the fat layer, that help me make it through the day.  It’s why I’ve been baking so much.  It’s the little things I can control and, hopefully, brighten someone’s day.  

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