The full moon makes people act a fool. I could have told you today, without a shadow of a doubt, that the moon was full. Dealing with the crazies at work is such a draining process normally and on the days that the moon is full its ten thousand percent worse. There is something about this specific day makes people more likely to be rude, more likely to yell and scream and more likely to drive you crazy.
Despite my best efforts, today they won. Today I almost lost my cool. There is a certain level of respect that should be extended to all humans. The golden rule Do unto others as you would have done to you . I'm a firm believer in treating each person as kindly as possible no matter what the circumstances. There is no reason to treat people like trash underneath your feet. Its just not necessary.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Competition
It’s something we all deal with on a regular basis. The competition for the best job, the best raise and even in our home lives when we, consciously or subconsciously, try to keep up with the Jones’. Everyone wants to be the best. We crave the recognition and rewards that come from our hard work. For the most part this is a healthy way of motivation but there is one problem. Where do you draw the line at healthy competition and competition that is harmful to you and those around you?
We as a society compete in various sports as we go through life and if, you’re somewhat of a couch potato like me, you enjoy watching sports on the boob tube. My personal favorite is football. Those muscular men in those tight pants, grunting and groaning and slamming into each other really gets my gears going. I yell and scream at them just as loud as my DH does and I root my team to victory time and time again. I root for them but the Bengals don’t always listen to me. The competition on the football field is fierce. Who can throw longest and catch the best? Who will have the best play of the game and win the most points for those playing fantasy? Most importantly, competition over who will win those much coveted Super Bowl Rings and be named MVP. They fight for their place in the Pro Bowl and take their hits and bruises along the way. They expect to get hurt. This is inevitable.
For those of us non-pro football players competition isn’t supposed to hurt. You don’t go into a competition expecting to come out with a physical ailment. You study hard to get the best grades and to beat your study partner. You work with a vocal coach with dreams of becoming the best of the best and even winning American Idol. If you have trouble with your weight you enlist the help of a friend to keep you motivated and over time the motivation turns into a contest. Who can lose the most weight the quickest? Here we find the problem with competition. It can be taken too far.
Recently my place of employment offered a corporate sponsored contest. It was modeled after the popular television show The Biggest Loser. The contest lasted for 15 weeks and you could enter in a variety of different ways. You could enter as an individual, as a team or as both. I chose to enter the contest in both categories. When it came to the individual contest, I knew that my lack of motivation wasn’t doing to lead me to finish first. I was still interest in monitoring my total weight loss percentage so I signed up. I joined a team with two of my friends at work, Alice and Sarah. Sarah and I had worked together previously and had become good friends and Alice was someone I knew through the grapevine before she moved to our department. After working with them both for over a year, I thought that I knew them reasonably well. I did not, however, know just how competitive they really are.
I consider myself fairly competitive. I like to be the best in my career and in my personal life I set goals for myself that I make it a point to reach. I knew that joining with other people would help to push me to reach my weight loss goal and when we found out that the coveted prize was a paid activity of our choice promoting physical activity we got really excited. I started the contest strong, vowing to myself that I would cut out all sweets and other tempting goodies. I lost a steady two to three pounds a week and was thrilled with my progress. Alice and Sarah also came out swinging dropping twice my totals each week. I’d like to tell you that with hard work and determination, I caught up with them but that’s not the case. They kicked my ass. I was very glad that they were on my team and not competing with me.
The contest ended today. Our team won the team division and Sarah and Alice were both in the top ten in the individual contest. They both dropped over ten percent of their total body weight and are looking slimmer and happier. Most importantly we are all healthier now than before we started the contest. Winning is great and something we all worked long and hard to accomplish but it isn’t everything.
The woman who won the individual contest lost of 21% of her total body weight. She is my height (5’10) and absolutely skeletal. It sickened me to watch her accept an award for weight loss, when from the looks of her, she had no weight to lose. The point of the contest was to get into a healthy BMI and to feel better physically. I know what a healthy BMI for my height is. I’m constantly aware of it and that is why I was so eager to join the contest. The winner of the contest was not a healthy BMI. She was underweight and it made me so sad to think about. She won the contest but at what cost. Being underweight is almost as dangerous as being overweight. In both situations your body is unable to function and eventually you will develop serious physical ailments. The competition that helped over two hundred of my co-workers take the first step towards a healthier lifestyle could have very well been the excuse for this woman to dive into something more dangerous.
I wonder if the creators of our workplace contest thought about adverse affects of the weight loss goals or if they were too focused on the goal to see potential flaws. If they did see the potential flaws, are they going to step up and take responsibility or should it even be something of note? I’m glad that our team won. The competition helped and motivated us into taking healthy steps towards our goals but for the girl’s sake, I really hope someone recognizes the problem before it gets too far out of hand. Competition isn’t always a good thing.
We as a society compete in various sports as we go through life and if, you’re somewhat of a couch potato like me, you enjoy watching sports on the boob tube. My personal favorite is football. Those muscular men in those tight pants, grunting and groaning and slamming into each other really gets my gears going. I yell and scream at them just as loud as my DH does and I root my team to victory time and time again. I root for them but the Bengals don’t always listen to me. The competition on the football field is fierce. Who can throw longest and catch the best? Who will have the best play of the game and win the most points for those playing fantasy? Most importantly, competition over who will win those much coveted Super Bowl Rings and be named MVP. They fight for their place in the Pro Bowl and take their hits and bruises along the way. They expect to get hurt. This is inevitable.
For those of us non-pro football players competition isn’t supposed to hurt. You don’t go into a competition expecting to come out with a physical ailment. You study hard to get the best grades and to beat your study partner. You work with a vocal coach with dreams of becoming the best of the best and even winning American Idol. If you have trouble with your weight you enlist the help of a friend to keep you motivated and over time the motivation turns into a contest. Who can lose the most weight the quickest? Here we find the problem with competition. It can be taken too far.
Recently my place of employment offered a corporate sponsored contest. It was modeled after the popular television show The Biggest Loser. The contest lasted for 15 weeks and you could enter in a variety of different ways. You could enter as an individual, as a team or as both. I chose to enter the contest in both categories. When it came to the individual contest, I knew that my lack of motivation wasn’t doing to lead me to finish first. I was still interest in monitoring my total weight loss percentage so I signed up. I joined a team with two of my friends at work, Alice and Sarah. Sarah and I had worked together previously and had become good friends and Alice was someone I knew through the grapevine before she moved to our department. After working with them both for over a year, I thought that I knew them reasonably well. I did not, however, know just how competitive they really are.
I consider myself fairly competitive. I like to be the best in my career and in my personal life I set goals for myself that I make it a point to reach. I knew that joining with other people would help to push me to reach my weight loss goal and when we found out that the coveted prize was a paid activity of our choice promoting physical activity we got really excited. I started the contest strong, vowing to myself that I would cut out all sweets and other tempting goodies. I lost a steady two to three pounds a week and was thrilled with my progress. Alice and Sarah also came out swinging dropping twice my totals each week. I’d like to tell you that with hard work and determination, I caught up with them but that’s not the case. They kicked my ass. I was very glad that they were on my team and not competing with me.
The contest ended today. Our team won the team division and Sarah and Alice were both in the top ten in the individual contest. They both dropped over ten percent of their total body weight and are looking slimmer and happier. Most importantly we are all healthier now than before we started the contest. Winning is great and something we all worked long and hard to accomplish but it isn’t everything.
The woman who won the individual contest lost of 21% of her total body weight. She is my height (5’10) and absolutely skeletal. It sickened me to watch her accept an award for weight loss, when from the looks of her, she had no weight to lose. The point of the contest was to get into a healthy BMI and to feel better physically. I know what a healthy BMI for my height is. I’m constantly aware of it and that is why I was so eager to join the contest. The winner of the contest was not a healthy BMI. She was underweight and it made me so sad to think about. She won the contest but at what cost. Being underweight is almost as dangerous as being overweight. In both situations your body is unable to function and eventually you will develop serious physical ailments. The competition that helped over two hundred of my co-workers take the first step towards a healthier lifestyle could have very well been the excuse for this woman to dive into something more dangerous.
I wonder if the creators of our workplace contest thought about adverse affects of the weight loss goals or if they were too focused on the goal to see potential flaws. If they did see the potential flaws, are they going to step up and take responsibility or should it even be something of note? I’m glad that our team won. The competition helped and motivated us into taking healthy steps towards our goals but for the girl’s sake, I really hope someone recognizes the problem before it gets too far out of hand. Competition isn’t always a good thing.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The New Adventures of Old/New Me
Have you ever seen the show The New Adventures of Old Christine? My life is very much like that show right now. I’ve been catching up on reruns and I’m just starting season one and it is great! I don’t kid myself into thinking that anyone can do some of the things that television characters get away with and still be as well liked as they seem to be but that does not stop me from seeing the parallels of the lives of those characters and my own. We share many similarities. Christine has to deal with the ‘meanie-moms’ at the school her son attends. I’ve had my own run-ins with women I not-so-affectionately call the ‘stepford wives’ .
I have been with my husband for four years total. Before we were married he introduced me to all of his friends. Most of these friends are wonderful people and have accepted me into their inner circle with open arms. Now I am good friends with both the males and the females in the group. We often go out with other couples and while the men talk sports and statistics, the ladies and I catch up on the goings on of our day to day lives and enjoy gossiping about movies, music and other similar interests.
Not all has been peaches and cream in the friends department though. My DH also introduced me to another group of friends most of whom have known each other since high school. These couples all had children or were expecting their first child when we were introduced the first time. All was well and the men in the group were all very friendly with me and joked around and had a great time. The women? Not so much. I swear the temperature drops at least ten degrees when I walk into the room.
When the cold chill first started, I mentioned it to my, then, fiancé. He scoffed a bit and assured me that it was all in my head. A few instances later and he came to realize that the frostbite inducing encounters were not in fact a product of my imagination. I’ve never claimed to be perfect but for the most part, I’m pretty likable. At least I’d like to think so. I’ve never met anyone who showed with such gusto out right hatred of me. The eye rolling, the prolonged sighs, the deliberate ignoring me when I would greet them or ask a question in an attempt to be friendly got to be just too much. I began to find excuses to skip functions that I knew they were going to attend. This upsets me because I enjoy the company and friendship of the men in the group immensely and my husband does also. He is fiercely protective of me and won’t be around people who treat me poorly. His friendships with the men have suffered as a result.
Perhaps I did something to offend them. Maybe they just do not care for me. I’m not their prototype of what makes friendship materials, which is fine with me. I have no desire to have people in my life with such toxic attitudes. It’s very possible that I deserve their hatred. I sometimes speak out of turn, (who am I kidding, this happens a lot..) and sometimes I say things that are better left unsaid. I like to say I’m brutally honest but those close to me have mentioned the word tactless a few times. However, in this particular situation, I honestly don’t think the problem is me. Sometimes women are just bitches.
Maybe I’m more like Christine than I realize. My life has changed and while I marvel in how far I have come, I still have a long way to go. My journey is far from over and I don’t need the ‘stepford wives’ on my new adventures anyway.
I have been with my husband for four years total. Before we were married he introduced me to all of his friends. Most of these friends are wonderful people and have accepted me into their inner circle with open arms. Now I am good friends with both the males and the females in the group. We often go out with other couples and while the men talk sports and statistics, the ladies and I catch up on the goings on of our day to day lives and enjoy gossiping about movies, music and other similar interests.
Not all has been peaches and cream in the friends department though. My DH also introduced me to another group of friends most of whom have known each other since high school. These couples all had children or were expecting their first child when we were introduced the first time. All was well and the men in the group were all very friendly with me and joked around and had a great time. The women? Not so much. I swear the temperature drops at least ten degrees when I walk into the room.
When the cold chill first started, I mentioned it to my, then, fiancé. He scoffed a bit and assured me that it was all in my head. A few instances later and he came to realize that the frostbite inducing encounters were not in fact a product of my imagination. I’ve never claimed to be perfect but for the most part, I’m pretty likable. At least I’d like to think so. I’ve never met anyone who showed with such gusto out right hatred of me. The eye rolling, the prolonged sighs, the deliberate ignoring me when I would greet them or ask a question in an attempt to be friendly got to be just too much. I began to find excuses to skip functions that I knew they were going to attend. This upsets me because I enjoy the company and friendship of the men in the group immensely and my husband does also. He is fiercely protective of me and won’t be around people who treat me poorly. His friendships with the men have suffered as a result.
Perhaps I did something to offend them. Maybe they just do not care for me. I’m not their prototype of what makes friendship materials, which is fine with me. I have no desire to have people in my life with such toxic attitudes. It’s very possible that I deserve their hatred. I sometimes speak out of turn, (who am I kidding, this happens a lot..) and sometimes I say things that are better left unsaid. I like to say I’m brutally honest but those close to me have mentioned the word tactless a few times. However, in this particular situation, I honestly don’t think the problem is me. Sometimes women are just bitches.
Maybe I’m more like Christine than I realize. My life has changed and while I marvel in how far I have come, I still have a long way to go. My journey is far from over and I don’t need the ‘stepford wives’ on my new adventures anyway.
Monday, May 24, 2010
I didn't know until I knew
Some things you just know. For instance, when you're born if everything develops correctly, you know how to breathe. No one has you sit down so that they can teach you how to breathe. It just happens and you continue to breathe every day for your entire life. If your body doesn't get enough air it will struggle and fight until it gets the oxygen that it needs. It's instinct. Some things you just know.
I've known many different things for a long time but I'm just learning even more now. I'm learning how to be a wife. I'm learning how to balance my old life, that I loved very much, with my new life that is better than anything I could have dreamt for myself. That's not instinct. That is learned behavior. I got married a few months ago. I met my husband in college and one day I just knew. I knew he was the one for me. During our four years of courtship, dating and now marriage things have not been easy and I haven't always known what was going to happen next but some things you just know.
It happened to me this weekend at my sister-in-laws college graduation party. I was holding my godson in my arms. Now let me preface this by saying, I adore that little boy. My DH and I were asked to be the godparents to my DH's baby cousin and it was the most honored we have ever been in our lives. To be entrusted with the responsibility was breathtaking. Now I had stolen the baby from another family member and before I took him from her I had been enjoying a few adult beverages and talking with some friends of ours. I was no means drunk (before you start in on the holding-a-baby-while-drinking-is-irresponsible bit) but I had been enjoying myself. I took the baby and went and picked up my drink. I had a baby in one hand and a beer in the other and suddenly I felt like I had been smacked in the face.
On one hand, my old life. Pre DH, pre house, pre fur baby, pre career. My old life with my family-like-friends and in my hometown. The life in which I was known as a crazy girl who would do insane things with very little coaxing necessary.
On the other hand, my new life. My life with my husband and my career. My life in a new town with new friends and an extended family. My new life involving my godson and plans and dreams and a life where I am much more respectable in my actions and decision making.
So I was faced with a choice. The baby or the beer. (because no one wants to be seen with a baby on one hip and a beer in the other hand. It just screams "I"M A HOT MESS JUDGE ME!" lets be honest here.) So I put down the beer and walked away.
I never wanted to be a mom. Until I did. Even then I always wondered if I would be any good at it or if I would ever be ready. I made a decision. A simple decision that for some would mean nothing but to me it meant everything. I will be a good mom and I am ready.
Some things you just know.
I've known many different things for a long time but I'm just learning even more now. I'm learning how to be a wife. I'm learning how to balance my old life, that I loved very much, with my new life that is better than anything I could have dreamt for myself. That's not instinct. That is learned behavior. I got married a few months ago. I met my husband in college and one day I just knew. I knew he was the one for me. During our four years of courtship, dating and now marriage things have not been easy and I haven't always known what was going to happen next but some things you just know.
It happened to me this weekend at my sister-in-laws college graduation party. I was holding my godson in my arms. Now let me preface this by saying, I adore that little boy. My DH and I were asked to be the godparents to my DH's baby cousin and it was the most honored we have ever been in our lives. To be entrusted with the responsibility was breathtaking. Now I had stolen the baby from another family member and before I took him from her I had been enjoying a few adult beverages and talking with some friends of ours. I was no means drunk (before you start in on the holding-a-baby-while-drinking-is-irresponsible bit) but I had been enjoying myself. I took the baby and went and picked up my drink. I had a baby in one hand and a beer in the other and suddenly I felt like I had been smacked in the face.
On one hand, my old life. Pre DH, pre house, pre fur baby, pre career. My old life with my family-like-friends and in my hometown. The life in which I was known as a crazy girl who would do insane things with very little coaxing necessary.
On the other hand, my new life. My life with my husband and my career. My life in a new town with new friends and an extended family. My new life involving my godson and plans and dreams and a life where I am much more respectable in my actions and decision making.
So I was faced with a choice. The baby or the beer. (because no one wants to be seen with a baby on one hip and a beer in the other hand. It just screams "I"M A HOT MESS JUDGE ME!" lets be honest here.) So I put down the beer and walked away.
I never wanted to be a mom. Until I did. Even then I always wondered if I would be any good at it or if I would ever be ready. I made a decision. A simple decision that for some would mean nothing but to me it meant everything. I will be a good mom and I am ready.
Some things you just know.
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