Life Lessons learned from a 2-year old

An interesting, and informative article from Daniel Rattner, via Bridget, The happy Quitter. If you head back to Daniel’s original post there are some interesting pictures of Ilya.

The happy Quitter!

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I often babysit the neighbor’s kids or they babysit me -however you want to look at it and there is a lot I learned from watching babies, toddlers and yes, even teenagers.

I wondered if I am the only one who looks at it that way. Does not being a parent make me more of a pushover or perhaps more observant?

Yesterday, I found by accident an article that made me feel good and of course, I have to share my finding with all of you. Here you go:

To start, I’m not a parent. I opted into a commune-style Brooklyn home I found on Craigslist, and I live with a young couple and their two-year-old, Ilya.

I’ve now been living there for one year and I can confidently say it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Because in my time living with a kid, I’ve come to…

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Next Year and Forever

Sending this seasonal, succinct, second hand sentiment because it is far better than I could have put into words. Happy New Year!

The happy Quitter!

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“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.

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The not so Old Girl and The Sea

A reblog of a reblog.
A long post but really worth the read.

Tales from the Romulan Neutral Zone

It started with a Hashtag.

Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, the tributary streams of our modern world flowing into the big river of awareness. Then the conventional media outlets caught on and before we knew it, the Weinstein dam broke and it was Land Under in Hollywood.

I’ll admit, my brain went into ‘white noise’ mode after the first few hundred Tweets. It seemed yet another sad, frustrating déjà vu moment in history – I’ve already seen this, and not once but twice, three times … it’s like we’re forming a brave bucket brigade on the Titanic, shouting encouragement to each other while that sad, lonely SOS echoes over the frozen Atlantic. If anybody out there really gave a damn, wouldn’t they have answered by now?

So, I was resigned to have another talk with my teenage girls about why life isn’t fair,

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about politics and the legal system, and that there…

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Quarter Life What?

Crisis?
What crisis?

If I owe everyone an apology, then I apologise most sincerely. I’m sure that I was, and am, part of the problem!

An issue very much in the news. Read all about it in Ray’s great post here.

Mitigating Chaos

Just when I got to a point in my life that I thought there was nothing left to shock me or leave me scratching my head, I wake up this morning and while perusing my morning reading list, I came across an article on LinkedIn entitled, Quarter Life Crisis, You Are Not Alone.

This falls under the “scratching my head” category.  th

The article is a compilation of several viewpoints about the stresses of being in your mid-twenties- early 30’s. Having three daughters that fit loosely in that range, I will choose my comments very, very carefully.

The page starts off with, “According to a LinkedIn research, 75% of 25-33 year olds have experienced a quarter-life crisis, often related to feeling as if they were at a crossroads in their career”

Crossroads of their career?  It seems to this old man, still struggling to get his arms around his white…

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The People Are The Difference

A lovely article, written by a lovely man, and shared by another lovely man, and I know neither of them, nor have I met them. It’s often the little things that make the biggest impact.

Mitigating Chaos

There was “something about Aiken” that I first noticed during my visits in early 1999.  We were considering buying the funeral homes and cemetery there and surely didn’t want to make a bad decision.   I didn’t feel the stress we sometimes felt in Columbia, where we had lived for three years. Aiken was different.  This guy and his wife, both from New Jersey, took the leap, purchased the businesses and moved to a beautiful, small Southern city.  th-3

Funeral service, like many businesses,  depends on the building of trusting relationships and following through on promises made.  I was fortunate to get acquainted with many community leaders and their help, guidance and example were invaluable. For me, it was the people that made Aiken different.

One of those people/leaders was Jeff Wallace. Jeff was the editor of The Aiken Standard for most of the years we owned our businesses.  We…

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In Our Differences

A perfect monologue on diversity. On my morning walk I talk to, and look at, everyone I encounter. Some speak, some avoid my gaze. THIS is why I do it. I just do not have the wise words of Colleen to explain.

The Chatter Blog

Sometimes I find myself staring at…you.

In our differences I find something to look at.  To ask questions about.  To be intrigued about.

Is it rude?  To be intrigued?  To see and notice our differences?

Is it considered discrimination if I recognize that you don’t look like I do?   Or act like I do?  Or think like I do?

Should I be ashamed that because you are different than I am, I want to look, see, learn and understand.  And appreciate.

Will your skin color make me look at you?   Maybe.

Will piercings in your face make me look at you?  Maybe.

Will the shape of your eyes make me look at you?  Maybe.

Will your age make me look at you?  Maybe.

Will the people you are with make me look at you?  Maybe.

Will the clothing you wear make me look at you?  Maybe.

I don’t…

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Heard on a bus

There’s a woman in a niqab, talking to her son in a non-English language.

On the seat in front of them: a white man, who turns around and tells the woman that she’s in the UK and should be speaking English.

On the seat in front of the white man, is an elderly white woman who points out: “We’re in Wales, and she’s speaking Welsh.”

 

Mae yna fenyw mewn niqab, yn siarad â’i mab mewn iaith nad yw’n Saesneg.

Ar y sedd o’u blaenau: dyn gwyn, sy’n troi o gwmpas ac yn dweud wrth y wraig ei bod hi yn y DU a dylai fod yn siarad Saesneg.

Ar y sedd o flaen y dyn gwyn, mae’n fenyw gwyn oedrannus sy’n nodi: “Rydym ni yng Nghymru, ac mae hi’n siarad Cymraeg.”