Change is Good

My wonderful mom is a bit on the eccentric side --- not pretentious, just creative and unabashedly unique. She was not afraid to use her creativity in naming her daughters. Some of us have out-of-the-ordinary names that reflect the part of our heritage that is European; others of us, well, she just made up our names.

Well, I've decided recently to change my name (the name of my blog is based on it), which has confused some people. One of my sisters tells me regularly, "I'm seriously having issues about you changing your name!" I get that. I do. She and I are very close in age and spent our younger years doing everything together. We were each other's only friends until the end of elementary school. Our identities were intertwined; most of our good childhood memories are of each other and not much else.

Nevertheless, this "Darling Daughter #5," as my mother so affectionately introduces me, is changing to a new name that is immensely significant to me. I could never explain this in a way that would make sense to anyone else; I don't really feel like I need to.

Thankfully, my husband and my children support me in this. I couldn't ask for more.

I'll always be my mom's "DD#5" and my younger sister's buddy; I'll always be the woman my husband married and the mother my kids have always known.

I'm still me, only with a different name.

Too Busy to Care

It is so insulting when someone apologizes for blowing it on a commitment and adds, "I've just been really busy."

We say "I've just been so busy" rather mindlessly, not realizing what it actually communicates to others.

Because the statement fails to acknowledge that other people also have busy lives, to me it says things like:

-- "I believe that I'm busier than you could ever be; I'm actually arrogant enough to believe that."
-- "I'm so busy I can't even comprehend that others must have busy lives, too."
-- "You are not as important as my schedule."
-- "I'm too busy to consider how important this is to you when I make a commitment."

The statement's use in this context must have been awakened in me after hearing a sermon about it. Since that day nearly a decade ago, I try very hard to remember that I am not uniquely busy and therefore must not use my own "busyness" as an excuse for irresponsibility. I certainly don't want to communicate to people that my schedule matters more than theirs does.

Cliques -- They're Not Just for High School

I'm a thirtysomething who should appreciate by now the futility of raging against the machine.

Today's mad rant is about adult cliques. Cliques in "Mommy" groups; cliques in parent groups at their kids' schools; cliques in church ("No you didn't just say that! Not in church?!?") -- yes, honey, I did say that; cliques at work and cliques in neighborhoods.

Admit it: when we have our own close friends, our established mechanism that makes the status quo possible, we're not quick to meet the newbie. And to be quite frank, part of that is rooted in jealousy: "What if my best buddies like that person better than me?" Or, "What if everything changes when we let that new person join us? What if I become the outcast?"

A couple of years ago, I drove to the school in my nice but older Ford Aerostar van to pick up my kindergartner every day. I did not realize that the circle of moms who stood a few feet from me each day noticed what I drove until I drove my sister's Mercedes SUV to the school one day. I'll be darned if those same ladies came to me in a group and asked me excitedly if I got a new car. Upon my telling them that I borrowed it from my sister, the conversation ended and they went back to their usual place. It was that blatant. Subsequent to that day, any attempt I made to interact with them during the last few minutes outside the classroom was met with indifference.

Now, to say that it "hurt" me would be an overstatement since I didn't lose any friends. It did, however, reinforce my tendency toward cynicism and pessimism. It seemed so unjust: they're not better than me just because they drive $50,000 automobiles and have $90 Nike shoes and memberships at the elite athletic club in town --- but they've got their circle locked-up.

Well, I have plenty to keep me busy, believe me, and life is what it is. Past and current experiences and circumstances can help me equip my children for life's cruelties, even within the church; and hopefully, they'll be shining lights of love and true compassion in this world.

Rosie O'Donnell, Abbreviated Language and Tired Brains

I think the Rosie and Donald feud was ridiculous from the start. "The Donald's" sinking to new levels aside, I suppose it's very old news now, and I doubt anyone much cares about my soapbox here.

Nevertheless, I need to say this:

Rosie is in her forties. Could she grow up and write like someone who wants to be taken seriously?

When logging onto my computer to read the day's events, her "teeny-bopper"-style (nothing against teenagers; I have two myself) written blogs are excruciating reading -- no capitalization, and individual letters and/or numbers substituted for real words (for example ---- "r u kidding me? i didn't want 2 eat as much as i 8!"). I simply cannot take seriously anything written in this manner.

I see the need for abbreviated language in text messaging, when one needs to limit the number of characters. But in an essay, poem or blog?

As I tell my kids: you have great thoughts and you write well, but if you don't make it readable, nobody cares.

Rosie, I don't care.