The Hulk and His Boy

Dear Diary,

I learned something from a child in a doctor's office waiting room.

A boy walked in with his father and sat down nearby.  IMG --inward mental groan!
I love kids, but I needed a break from little boys for the day.
(I work in a special ed preschool classroom. Need I say more?)

This boy was grasping an Incredible Hulk action figure, as well as a Batman and Robin duo.
He sat for a few minutes and watched as another boy about his age-- I would guess seven or eight-- entered the waiting room.  He perked up, walked over to this potential-to-be-a-new-friend stranger, and this is what I heard:

Hi, my name is Caleb, what is your name?

     ~Noah.

Hi Noah, will you be my friend and play with me?

     ~Sure! Mom, can I play with Caleb?

And they sat at the waiting room kid table and proceeded to orchestrate a Hulk-like pounding on poor Batman and Robin, chatting and sharing toys like they had known each other since at least kindergarten.

I smiled at this exchange and watched them in wonder.

Caleb made it look so easy: making friends.
And Noah's uncomplicated response -- no excuses or shyness or avoidance-- was such a surprise to me.
They played for about five minutes when Noah's mom called him to go.
But Caleb wasn't going to let him disappear out of his life so easily.
He skipped off with him, all the while bantering loudly,

Bye!  
Let's have a play date tomorrow!  
I'll give you my mom's number so you can call her and you can come to my house.  
It's ###-###-####.

Yes, he blurted his mom's phone number for all to hear.  It was awkwardly funny. And Noah's mom humored this stranger-now-turned-bff and thanked him for playing with her son.

I marveled at this exchange for multiple reasons.

First, I work with children whose interpersonal skills are nonexistent.  That these two boys could communicate their names and desires to each other in 20 seconds-- and then enjoy and share the toys together-- was jaw dropping considering what I see everyday in my work.

Second, I know that breaking the ice with a stranger is not easy for many people.
And here two children were living out the scenario with textbook precision.

Hi, my name is LJ.  Will you be my friend and play with me?

How many people do I encounter that are just waiting for an invitation like that?  For some folks like myself, it takes a bit of bravery to put themselves "out there" and ask a question like that.

Maybe I'm not a Caleb.
Maybe I'm more of a Noah, with an open heart, receptive to the call of others.

Yes! I'll play with you!  I'm so glad you asked, here's my number!

Is the world full of strangers, or potential playmates?
Caleb learned at a young age to ask this question, and he is having a ball finding out the answer.

Happy Summer!

LJ

The BEST Gal Pal Reunion

Dear Diary,
I spent the last two nights of my spring break away with The Gals.
Not my own girls, but with the most genuine girlfriends a gal could ask for.

College is a time of stress and growth and fun. 
In those circumstances, bonding with those you share it with is only natural.  I am blessed that those bonds remain strong to this day -- though time and distance try their best to weaken it.

So before I begin overindulging in Oreos while I cry over the topics of love, bonding, and the difficulties of long-distance friendships, I'm going to change the emotional direction of this post and reflect on some superficial guidelines that made my weekend the BEST gal pal reunion....

• Jumping up and down, squealing, and hugging are acceptable when reuniting with old friends, even in a public place such as, say, a hotel parking lot. I know we are 45. But that's the thing about being 45 -- we don't care what others think!
• Bring sleep aids to share: earplugs for the light sleepers and nasal strips for the snorers. No, I don't mean the pore cleaning ones, though someone could provide those too.  It will help keep the peace if everyone is offered one, especially the ones who deny being a snorer! I seriously wondered how my sound-sensitive bed mate didn't suffocate under the two pillows she buried her head under.  Hmmm.  Must have been the others in the room, I was quiet all night!
• Snacks and drinks must be brought by all.  There will be too much of both, but you may get a couple tasty new dip recipes out of it. (Bonus tip: Five women cannot eat two large pizzas for dinner. One will suffice. Especially after all that good dip.)
• Individual checks at meal times are required if you want the peace of mind that comes with knowing you aren't going to be paying extra for the lush at the table. Unless of course you are the lush at the table.
• Husbands need not worry when we call the 20-something bartender "Hon." He looks at us as if we are his mom, not a hot cougar. With a drink.
• Have an escape line at the ready when talk about politics or religion gets too un-comfy.  These examples worked for us: "Soooo, what's your favorite candy bar?" and "I like what you did with your hair."
• Keep health talk to three minutes a person.  This includes mental and physical health.  Seriously, pull out the cell phone stopwatch and go around the table.  Then be done.  We are at the age when talking about our health problems is comparable to events worth medals of honor.  But no one wants to hear about your medals. We want to talk about ours.  As we get older we may need to increase the time allotted for this activity.

It's remarkable how we all reconnected in older, saggier, double-chinned versions of ourselves. 

The camaraderie of old times came back in a wink. The trust we established in our young adulthood allowed us to waste no time opening our hearts to each other from the get-go.

So, thank you, gal pals, for continuing to be each other's cheerleaders, advisors and counselors.

That will come in handy when, let's say, one of us ends up in jail for jumping a turnstile at the El.

Smooches!
LJ

The Lottery Lady

Dear Diary,

I don't play the Lotto.  Unless the jackpot is record-breaking-ly HUGE, and my chances of winning are infinitesimally smaller than they would be on a normal night; then I open my wallet and throw my money at a little piece of paper containing some randomly picked numbers and a dream.

I do watch the drawings when I catch the nighly news, especially when they are modeled by my BFF, Linda Kollmeyer -- also known as The Lotto Lady.

Yes. I said BFF.

Though she doesn't know it.

When it comes to sliding panels open to reveal the next numbered ping pong ball, Linda is all that!

She is spunky, yet down to earth.
Awkwardly wise, yet unpresumptuous.
I can critique her outfits without putting her on the defense.
The sparkle in her eyes and spring in her step speak to me through the television.
And her hair is never the same two days in a row.  She's so versatile!

Though the relationship is one-way, I'm sure she would agree that we could be besties, go out for a health shake together (she is a personal trainer), spill our hearts out, and encourage each other in every aspect of womanly life.

Before you start jumping to conclusions about my mental health, let me tell you a little story:
Recently I skimmed through an Ann Landers column about a person who is an avid obit reader and who admitted to being "disappointed to not find a familiar name" on the obit page.  Although Ann was critical of this person at first, she was inundated by readers who were sympathetic to her, calling her "lonely" and wanting to help her get a life.

Before writing this post I was concerned that upon revealing my one-way friendship, my dear readers would perceive me as being a lonely, pathetic, delusional person. But the Landers column encouraged me to open up.

There is also the possiblity that maybe, just maybe, I am ahead of my time; that this is the friendship of the future -- since much of our lives are spent in front a screen (TV, computer, tablet, phone). Soon we'll all be having heart-to-hearts with pictures of pixeled people with text bubbles above their heads, or falling in love with our GPS' voice.  Hmm. They should make a movie about that.

Aren't virtual, one-way relationships easier?
But I digress.

Regarding Linda, I am validated.  I have discovered that I am not the only person who feels this way about The Lotto Lady.  She has a fan base.
You can check her out at this WGN interview, and view her fan page on Facebook. 

But keep in mind she was my friend first!

Lucky me!
LJ

More Than Meets the Eye

Dear Diary,

I'm feeling old.  Well, maybe more like "out of sorts."

When one hits the mid 40s, one becomes used to the term ma'am instead of miss.  I was first called ma'am when I was in my late 20s, by a dental assistant who wasn't much younger than me.  Boy, did my day go down hill from there.  How many people can say they remember the moment that moniker was applied to them?  Yes, traumatic.

But at this point -- at 44 -- I am impervious to the ma'am label.  There are other reasons I am feeling out of sorts these days.

I am in a new work environment.  After being a work-at-home mom for almost a year, the mental transition hasn't been easy.  The well-spring of emotions that this job has elicited will be expounded upon another day, perhaps. 

Picture an elementary school setting.  Not only am I surrounded by young children, but by fertile young teachers with the makeup and hair and clothes to go with.  A silly statement, but I bet most readers get what I mean.

There are a few of us seasoned folk sprinkled into the mix.  The days of pregnancies, potty training struggles, and preschool programs are long gone for me.  Since I no longer fall into the Young Marrieds category, I feel like a middle-aged alien wandering the halls of the school.  OK, I exaggerate a bit, but still, the thoughts of "I don't fit in" pop into my head at least once a day.

When I look at this honestly, I know I am feeling this way because I am comparing myself to these women.  Women who on the outside appear to be put together, golden highlights, baby bumps and all.  Lunchroom talk about ultrasounds, overseas adoptions and sick toddlers have me nodding and smiling either in sympathy or in polite agreement.  (I am the newbie so these people are still perfect strangers to me. I can't offer up much more than this at this stage anyway.) 

I miss the Young Married stage and the energy, exuberance and honeymoon attitude that goes with it. Although, I feel equiped to handle it so much better now that I am in my 5th decade!  I can see why grandparenting is the best!

I think I am mourning what I had, and which I now have to greet in the faces of these women on a daily basis. 

Make no mistake.  I love, love, love the life I am leading now.  I am blessed despite life's hardballs. 

In time I will get to know these women who, right now, are only two-dimensional figures of youth and happiness. 

There is more than meets the eye.  And in time, I pray they will find this true of me too.

LJ