Talking to Your Kids About Sandy Hook

A parent asked me today how to talk to her son about the tragic school shooting here in our small home state. He's already freaked out by school and the thought of someone stealing him thanks to the joys of being six years old in 2012. Kids today are exposed to levels of hatred and violence there is simply no excuse or precedent for. Throughout history children have borne witness to and carried the scars from brushes with the adult world's evil. Forever changed they grow into adults who know the depths of depravity a human being is capable of. They walk among us with wise eyes and quietly carry the burden of guilt and memory only those who survive a catastrophic event can understand. Survivors survive. We call them survivors because they will carry this inside them for life. Eventually the brain and the body will work together to knit a protective scar over the horrors they have seen but the horror will come up to haunt them forever.

Still others of us are blessed enough to have traveled through life without more than glimpses of what the worst could look like. For that we should all take a moment and say Thank You - to God or the Universe or whatever higher power you connect with.

You have to talk to your kids about this. And you have to protect them from seeing the news, newspaper, blogs, Facebook, whatever. They have seen and heard enough. Secondary traumatization is what can happen when we are exposed to graphic scenes or images over and over and over again. If adults can suffer from it - and without doubt we are all grieving right now - children will suffer from it that much more. Children are truly not able to comprehend the immensity of what happened this morning when a 20-year old gunman walked into a school and murdered 20 students, six teachers, his mother (at her home), then killed himself. As an adult I can hardly wrap my head around it. It's still soaking in and I wish that it wouldn't.

Ask your kids if they have any questions before you start talking. Listen to them. Let them find their own words - words have power, let your children find their voices. Expect to hear questions such as  "Can this happen to me?" "What if that happens here?" "Am I safe? Is my school safe?" "What would you do if that happened to me?" "Why did that guy kill those people?" "Were those kids bad?"

Stay calm, keep your voice neutral and assure them, over and over, that they are safe. Their school is safe. This is a one in a million event. The bad guy is dead. We have police and firemen and hospitals and doctors here to keep us safe. Their school will be making new ways to keep them safe. We don't know why that man did that. Sometimes people do bad things and we never find out why but what's most important is that we remember those who were hurt by those bad things.  We love the children who were lost. We never, ever, say kids are bad. There's no such thing as a bad kid and the kids in that school did everything they were supposed to do. They followed their teachers instructions and they had parents and siblings and friends who loved them very much. Just as much as we love you.

Don't allow the kids to perseverate on the topic. We are going to talk about this one time tonight then we are going to make popcorn and watch a movie or read a book. We can talk about it tomorrow and the next day and the next day after that if you have to. We'll be here. You'll be here with us. We'll be together every day forever and you will always be safe and loved with us.

Tree Envy

This year is the first year Jacob and I have gotten an actual, nice Christmas tree. Yes, it's fake. Whatever, stop judging. The dogs would totally make out with a real tree and I don't have the time or extra skin available to dive in and pull my cat out of the tree seventeen times a day.

Initially I had a bit of trouble feeling the tree love. I mean, it's lovely to look at but do fake trees have souls? A sense of humor? Do they know they're the star of the show? Real trees come with all sorts of adventures including the epic sawing of the bottom of the trunk to make it even. Watching someone attempt to do this can be stressful. Until you realize it's fun watching your loved ones struggle. That's when you break out the iPhone video camera and post to YouTube.

A fake tree will never bring fun extra friends into your home the way a real tree can. We've all seen the magic of Clark Griswald  being attacked by a squirrel. I'll tell you right now, if my tree came with a free squirrel I would call that a Win. I would name him Sparkles and he would wear a tiny elf hat and sit on my shoulder wherever I went. Like a pirate with a parrot but better. Because parrots don't have fluffy tails. Sparkles and I would become a holiday favorite, we could make appearances at local schools and sign autographs and take pictures. We'd be local celebrities and perhaps even receive a key to the city.

None of that is going to happen with a fake tree okay?

However, fake trees do come with their own set of frustrations and struggles. I'll leave you with a quote from my friend, Dawn. She is the coolest, most Christmas spirited girl I know.

All right Christmas tree. Even though I bought you at a flea market over the summer for $20, I expect more from you. A missing stand? Random sections of blinking lights? Tree top blackout? A severe lean to the left? 3 collapses? You may have eluded me this far but today I am putting an end to your bullshit. You will be perfect if I have to strangle it out of you. We're gonna take treehugger to a whole new level motherfucker.

If that doesn't say Christmas I don't what will.

Incoming!

Tis' the Season of...Creepy?

I'll admit that I probably wasn't the most normal of little kids. I can roll with that and, in fact, even celebrate it now that I'm old enough to appreciate it. While most kids loved Santa and the Easter Bunny fervently, I hated and feared them. I mean, I liked presents and candy - don't get me wrong. But the idea of someone - anyone - breaking into my house while I was sleeping was just not okay.

I would lie awake every Christmas Eve (and Easter Eve if that's a real thing) and quietly freak out. I would try not to blink because I knew they were magical beings and, therefore, extremely fast. I feared if I blinked I would miss something and they would be able to steal me away. So there I would lay, eyes wide open, sometimes holding my lids apart with my fingers, staring up at the ceiling. I'm pretty sure I took this too far on a couple of occasions because I can actually remember "seeing" Santa. Looking back I suspect this was more a hallucination on the part of a young girl who'd had too much eggnog. At the time, however, it was very real and scared the shit out of me.

Fast forward to the present. I'm not a parent but that doesn't mean I live under a rock. I know about this whole "Elf on the Shelf" thing. It appears to be some sort of torture/manipulation device used by parents to get their kids to behave around the holidays. While I applaud the creativity, I also shudder a bit in horror. If I were a little kid and my parents told me a stuffed toy was watching me I would have been completely freaked out. I probably would have made that elf disappear and to hell with the risk of Santa finding out.

Creepy little eyes that follow me around the house is a little too Big Brother for my taste even as an adult. Parents? What do your kids think of this? Are they creeped out or on board? Does the elf write them little notes as it moves about the house?

If I were a parent I suspect I would not be able to resist messing with the kids. As in "Henry. I know what you did with the Victoria's Secret catalog. Is there something you'd like to talk to Santa about?"

Or perhaps, "Dear little Janey, I noticed that all your Barbie heads have been chopped off and you seem to have decided the toilet is the proper receptacle for them. Cut the shit or you're totally getting coal."

Yet another reason why I stick with cats and dogs.

The only upside? Apparently these elves shit Hershey Kisses....

It's On My To-Do List Okay?

Tis the Christmas season and as I am writing this I have about 37 thoughts banging around in my head. I have to admit, I have never been a huge Christmas person. Sure I love buying presents for my loved and I love receiving presents for damn sure, but as for the rest - the music, decorations, mania, and general chaos of the season, well, not a fan. Not to mention awkward family events.

Thankfully, as I've gotten older I have been able to care less and less about what people think of me and more and more about how they interact with me. Do they take any interest at all in me as a person? Do they have any idea what I do? Have I spoken to them at any other time over the past year? I have a big family on both my dad and mom's sides. It's inevitable that I will be closer to some family members than others and I'm okay with that.

Growing up a musician in the family comes back to bite me in the ass every year. Sweet Jesus. I know I took piano lessons for my entire life and yes I went to music school. Yes I loved it and still do but I have absolutely no way to play on any type of regular basis and I haven't since I graduated from The Hartt School of Music in 2000. I was 22. I'm 34 now. That's 12 years of no piano or music of any kind in my life. This is not okay with me. I miss it - something I never thought I would say.

When I went to Hartt I was already insecure about my abilities. Being surrounded by people who are off the charts talented and driven will make that happen. I also didn't have the extensive music theory training a lot of my peers did. I took piano lessons, I was naturally good at it so I didn't have to practice for hours every day.  It came pretty naturally. Until I had to perform or be put on the spot. My piano teacher at Hartt was kind of a nightmare. To this day I still have no idea what country she was from but she had an accent that made it hard to take her seriously and she clearly did not care about teaching me theory. She was a whiner you guys. I can't stand whiners. I spent most of my time with her trying not to say anything rude. It was a battle.

Having to play in front of juries every year killed me. I had horrible stage fright about playing and having to perform on command basically froze my fingers into stiff claws that refused to cooperate. I pretty much passed by the skin of my teeth and got out of that room as fast as possible, passing with C's was fine by me. Until my senior year when I was finally able to channel my dislike for my teacher and, by that point, my school, into some kind of piano rage. I practiced my ass off and when I went in for my senior jury I killed it. Killed the shit out of it. The jury members were shocked and excited and my teacher was speechless. Hah! Take that mean lady! The student you gave up on just made you look like an asshole (because I found out later you'd "warned" them I wasn't very good.)

Who got the "A"? This girl that's who! Suck it bitches!

And thus ended my piano career. I didn't follow the path I'd laid out for myself of a job in the music industry because by the time I was 22, I was over it. I outgrew it and wanted to do something meaningful with my life. So I took jobs that didn't pay squat, worked entry-level paraprofessional positions you didn't even need a college degree for, and purposely exposed myself to every sector of the mental health field I could get my hands on. I worked three jobs in special education at the same time my first year out of college. I was a paraprofessional in an alternative middle/high school, tutored students who'd been expelled, and taught night school English and reading.

I have poured so much more energy into becoming the person I am today than I ever did when learning to play the piano or sing. I have worked so freaking hard to be so good at what I do I am able to support myself, by myself. Not to seem unappreciative but when people ask me to play the piano my instant reaction is "No!" Because it's been 12 years. Because my hands aren't the way they used to be. Because pianos are large and heavy and it's not like I can just have one in every place I live. That's not an option.

I sure wish sometimes I'd been a guitarist or violinist or something. At least those instruments are portable. Piano? Not so much. So I'm sorry if you want me to play for you. I wish I'd known you when I was a different person and much younger. I wish you could have seen it because I put a lot of love into it and someday maybe I'll be able to again. When I'm all grown up and settled somewhere I will have a piano and I will probably take some lessons again.

You can't have everything all at once. I have to accept that some things take more time than others and some things take a lot more time. It's in my mind and in my heart, someday it will be in my home.

Yoga Give-Away! WOW!

Darling Shrinkers,

Here's the thing. I hate exercise. I loathe it, detest it, avoid it like the plague. Except for yoga! Yoga allows me to genuinely feel better immediately. I walk into class stiff, sore, stressed and maybe a little drained. I walk out feeling loose, restored, and smiling. You just can't beat that y'all.

I have, out of sheer luck, stumbled upon a wonderful yoga studio right here in South Windsor. And by right here, I mean it is literally in the plaza across the street from my office. So even on days I don't get my lazy ass into yoga pants, I am still reminded of it daily.

Yoga Born in South Windsor has become my happy place for all things yoga. I have brought clients there, friends there, and, my greatest and most favorite achievement - I have brought Jacob there. He took his very first yoga class ever yesterday and he is hooked! I could not be more thrilled! Remember guys - Jacob is a DUDE. Like, big, tattooed, dude. Real men take yoga. (And it's super cute that mine does!)

The owner, Dawn Greenfield, is an absolute gem. She is super laid-back and friendly not to mention insanely knowledgeable. A very smart lady, she has organized an excellent web site where you can see class schedules, make a reservation to attend a class, and pay for the class all at the same time. Genius! All I have to do is go on my iPad and click some stuff so when I get to Yoga Born, all I have to worry about is participating.

Because I love all of you out there so very much, I am giving away a Groupon for 10 Yoga Classes AT Yoga Born to be used by you howsoever you desire. All I ask is for you to tell me one thing about yourself and pick a number between 1 - 200. So easy! Like me on Facebook for even easier access!

Now go my babies! Tell me something cool! You have until Wednesday! Smooches!