New Year's Reflections... of course

Yes it's that time of year when we reflect back and look ahead, hoping to amend some of our less productive ways. So I'm looking back. In doing so, I found this photo...

This is me and my friend Doe. It was 1998, New Year's Eve. I took something of the chemical variety, most certainly. Though I probably generally looked that happy. I was unmarried but madly in love. I had a good job that I liked enough. I had great friends, Doe included. I was not a parent but that would change very soon. Sooner than planned. I was unencumbered, young (29, if I've estimated the year on this pic correctly), hotter than I realized (I should've realized!) and having the time of my life in San Francisco. I remember dancing that night to Prince's "1999" though at the moment I'm a little fuzzy about whether or not we were welcoming '99 or seeing it go. Nonetheless I love this picture. And I love my friend Doe.

2011 was a big year for me and Doe. She came forward and spoke to the press about her abusive coach. As an incredibly private person, I can't imagine how hard this was for her. Boy am I proud of her. And I think she's finding some peace for the first time in a very long time. I'm proud of myself too on this one. I almost took that bit out of my book about a gazillion times. But I thought: if you want to take it out, it's the part that most has to stay in. It's the part that will ruffle feathers, sure. Which is why you're having second thoughts. But it's true. Leave it. And I did. With Doe's blessing. And now more than 3 years later, it's all come out in the wash. Peters is banned from the sport. He's ousted from the Hall of Fame. And Doe and I are still friends. Best of...

What else? As I look back, I've waded through a lot this year. Last New Year's Eve I'd been on my own less than 4 months. I had friends over to celebrate and I cried most of the time. Quite the hostess I was. I've had more than a few bouts of crying over the last 12 months. Usually brought on by one too many glasses of pinot noir. And an armful of girlfriends to listen to me bawl - "But why didn't he ....[insert choice of phrase here: love me more, try harder, want to have another baby with me...blah blah blah waah waah waah"].

But they - the crying jags - petered out around April or May. I still had my fits of weepiness often brought on by a date. A bad one (is this what's in store?) or a good one (it's officially over, the marriage that is). But then I kind of got my footing sometime this summer. Me and the kids had our "summer of adventure". We went water skiing, fishing, zip lining and so much more. And I started to appreciate the quiet. And by quiet I mean the quiet in my mind. The hardest thing now is welcoming someone new into my life. I associate being with someone with criticism and an unquiet mind. I have to open myself up to the idea that there can be peace in togetherness. Not gay Steve is helping with that. (More on gay Steve coming next.)

I'm calmer now. At work, in life, in parenting. My kids are great. Thriving, in fact. Everyone who interacts with Wyatt these days says: What happened to Wyatt? He's a different boy! So talkative and outgoing. Yup. He's come out of his shell. The kid's got great parents.

I've tried some new things this year. Internet dating. Never thought I'd do that. I joined the board of a non-profit close to my heart, Safe4Athletes. And I can say Doe brought me to them, both literally and in a more figurative sense. I stopped exercising (ok have to fix that ... part of the 'look ahead' bit coming next). I connected with old friends (Lisa, Jessica and a host of other ex-gymnasts) and let new ones in. I realized that formerly work-friend Steve (gay Steve) is friend-for-life-friend Steve. As he told me earlier this year, "We are part of each other's stories now." Yes we are.

I didn't write as much as I would like to be able to say I had. But I used this blog as a means of not panicking, as I said I would at it's inception (thanks KFarr, for telling me to start it for that very reason). I pissed some people off with things I wrote that were stupid and unthoughtful, divulging information that wasn't mine to share. I apologized profusely and with all sincerity and profundity. I learned to express myself in real life (not writing) just a little bit better. That one is still a bit tough for me, I'll admit. I got a new boss. Which seems to be going well. And I built a new home for myself.

Looking ahead... ahhhh. How to do this without coming up with stuff that I will not do and then disappoint myself in the process? Keep it simple. I will exercise. No marathons. Just move the bod a few days a week. I will drink less of that pinot. I'm not not drinking. No way. But less. And I'll write for real. Not signing up to finish a book. But I'll commit myself to trying. That'll do it. Look out 2012. A new calm Jen will take a walk every once in a while, not get drunk every Saturday and scribble a few lines of something' somethin'. Wow, the world won't know what to do with itself.

Happy Holiday

I had a very different kind of holiday this year. Trying to make some sense of it all in my tiny mind. Felt more appreciation, gratitude and peace than I have in a very long time. And yet it was tinged with a bit of sadness. Maybe melancholy would be a more apt word.

It was the first year in my life as a parent that I spent Christmas without my kids. Yes I'm a Jew. But a non-practicing one. I spent my childhood with a Christmas tree, presents on Christmas morning, chocolate croissants for breakfast and a festive family meal - turkey or lasagna, never ham - in the early evening. We didn't go to church. But we certainly celebrated Christmas.

I love celebrating. I love holidays. Birthdays. All of it. I love taking the moment to be with family, to practice gratitude. I love giving gifts and the feeling of generosity that pervades these moments. Not generosity in giving 'stuff'.  Generosity of kindness. Yes it can be carried throughout the year. But we forget. And each year during the holidays, or maybe during a birthday - your spouse, your mom, your best friend - we remember to tell each other not just THAT we love each other, but why. I love this.

This holiday my kids were with my ex-husband. And I was ok. I wasn't even sad. I spent the days prior with my boyfriend. I want a better word for what he is. But we'll use that one for now. The feeling of gratitude I felt waking up Christmas morning with him - even though my kids weren't there bouncing in my room, yelling at me to wake up "It's Christmas!!!" - was astonishing. I've never been one to lounge around. I'm up and at 'em all the way. But I feel, with him, that I can sit. And be. Is it age? Is it him? Is it wisdom? Am I just tired? Who knows.

He left to spend the rest of the day with his mom and dad (not in a Christmasy way, he is a practicing Jew) and I spent it with my brother and nephews. We had a very regular day. And that made it all the lovelier. We made cookies. We went to the park. Hit tennis balls. Ate Chinese food. And lit the Hanukkah candles. Then I came home and my boys transitioned to me. We lit the candles (again, they wanted to) and exchanged gifts. It was quiet. And perfect.

This morning we opened the rest of our gifts, tried out the new baseball bat at the park. Went to a movie and had Hanukkah dinner at my brother's. Again we lit the candles. This ritual has never been important to me. Has never really been a part of my life. But now, with two people in my life that it matters to - my sister in law (we've done it the last few years together) and Steven (better than "boyfriend") - I can replicate it and find the peace in it. In ritual.

I will spend the week with my kids. And New Year's Eve. My brother and his family will move to LA a few days after that. This is what brings the melancholy this holiday season. They have been my solace, my fun, my comfort, my family this year. No way I'd have gotten through without going crazy if they hadn't been here. I love that the boys play together like brothers, none of the artifice of friends or cousins. They fight. They say they don't like each other sometimes. And then they take care of each other. I don't want them to lose that.

I don't want to lose that.

But I can handle it now. I'm on my feet. I have someone that looks after me. That I can look after.  I will visit. I will have a new niece or nephew soon. I will miss them all. The patient and abiding friendship of my sister in law (she's smart, funny, wise and tolerates my neediness with her husband). Harry, my oldest nephew, spending the night. Ike, my youngest nephew, falling asleep on the couch with me. And of course, Chris. C-bro. The bestest little brother a girl could have. Thanks for hanging my television, hooking up my internet, making it so I didn't completely fall apart when I moved out almost a year and half ago and my whole family blew up. What can I say to thank a guy for that? I got your back. Whatever you need.

xo

A Break from Brooding

I've been accused, on more than one occasion, by more than one person, of only writing when I'm angsty. Of only writing about hard, yucky feelings. Of not ever writing about happy stuff. It's true. Writing about happy just doesn't seem that interesting to me. When I'm happy I just enjoy it, I don't overanalyze it. Wouldn't that kind of take the happy out of it? It's like dissecting why something is funny (I'll admit I do this sometimes). Philosophizing and strategizing about funny is utterly un-fun. And un-funny. I kind of feel the same way about happy.

I'm not saying I'm right. I'm just saying that this is how I operate. I can see the folly in this. If you can assess WHY you feel happy, maybe you can sustain it? I see that. I do. And yet, I'd rather just enjoy it. Further, I don't mind all that much being a bit angst-ridden. It's part of life. It provides contrast. It's where insight comes from. I accept it as a necessary part of a contemplative life, of self-awareness.

To be clear, I often write when I'm content but generally I flash back to some difficulty on the road to getting there. This is where I find revelation, enlightenment. A sense of possibility and an appreciation for the journey.

But just so that I can prove my 'critics' wrong, I'm going to attempt to write about the things that make me happy at the moment:

1. I love my independence. I live my life the way I want to, hopefully without being too self-involved. Just the right amount though. I don't feel guilty about having a nice apartment that I love. I don't feel guilty about having a practical but relatively nice (not excessively so) car. I don't feel guilty about pretty shoes, therapy or trips with my children. And yes, I used to. I have found a semblance of peace with my own likes and dislikes. I don't feel like my choices are somehow wrong. Inherently. I love this! It brings me such contentment to exist in this lovely peaceful apartment without clutter or mustiness. And I love having a garage. Ahhhh, the simple things. (I realize the irony of how I iterated my happiness over this point - in the negative, the negation of guilt. Old habits die hard. Give a girl a break on this.)

2. I have such fun with my kids. They are getting older. I'm permissive when it comes to media. We laugh our faces off watching Jackass over and over again. We saw #3 three times at the theater. It's gross. We love it. When Steve-O does the outhouse stunt, the combination of danger, poop, vomit and uncontrollable laughter on the part of the Jackass crew causes us to nearly 1) vomit with them; 2) pee our pants. I love laughing with them. My oldest and I also read the same books sometimes. He recommended The Hunger Games. I read it and we talked about it. He gave away made up plot points, misdirecting me but increasing the urgency with which I inhaled the book. Funny kid. He got me.

3. I am helping to make progress in regards to the protection of athletes. I'm proud that my book instigated this in some way. I'm happy to be part of the community trying to create change on this. I love the strong women I have met in this process. And I am so proud of them all.

4. I have a boyfriend, a wonderfully lovely man who is kind and chivalrous and emotionally expressive. Who makes me coffee in the morning and forgives easily. Who listens to my feelings (when I dare express them) and thinks I'm funny. That's good stuff.

5. I have a great job and I work with great people. Yes it's hard sometimes. There's pressure and politics and pettiness at times. But all in all I work for a company that does good in the world, has a strong corporate conscience, respects consumers and delivers great products that last a lifetime for a great price. That ain't bad.

Ok that's five. I don't want to push it. Five happy thoughts all in one day. Ok one more for good measure - I love salty snacks. I could wax poetic about potato chips, pretzels, fried potatoes of any kind and a delicious margarita with an overly salted rim on a hot summer night. But I won't. I love salt in all forms and I indulge regularly. Yum.

There ... happy Jen in a nutshell. Next post - back to my wheelhouse. Dark and brooding. This is deemed "a don't panic log" after all...

From J-sis with Love

I've been negligent. Not much in the mood to write anything. Busy I suppose. Work, kids, new man. Lots going on. All good stuff. All happy stuff. Still trying to find time to just 'be' ... have come to appreciate the alone time in the last year. I never knew how much I actually liked being alone. Maybe I'm more of an "I" than an "E" (ala Meyers Briggs) than I thought. Or perhaps we change as we get older. But I've come to appreciate the quiet. There's enough noise in my head most days that external quiet is required at least some of the time to avoid complete brain chaos.

Anyway, had the day to myself yesterday. My brother treated me to a brand new tattoo, my 40th birthday gift (yes that was 2 1/2 years ago... we moved a little slowly). Since he's leaving for LA with his growing family, and I'll miss him terribly, we decided on matching tattoos. Not matching exactly. We each got the nickname for the other. Goofy, corny, dumb? Maybe. But I like it. I'm j-sis.

He's c-bro.