Manager For A Day

Wednesday I went to work worrying about a son who has spent the last two years trying to recover from an on the job back injury, fighting through the California workman's comp system that seemed determined to get him hooked on pain pills rather then fix his back. I went to work worrying about a granddaughter who was sick, watching her struggle to breath. And those that know me, understand why watching a child struggling to breath is difficult and causes me concern. Poor child had a cold but hearing that sound takes me back to another child who struggled to breath.

So Wednesday I came to work with elephants on my back. And then had what I considered to be a breach of etiquette from my manager. I went home and fumed, and had a little pity party for myself and wrote a scathing email to my supervisor, which fortunately I decided to send to myself at work instead. When I went to work that morning I talked to my supervisor expressing me anger and told her I felt the need to go to HR after attending a preplanned training session.

About an hour into the training I had an epiphany moment. I went back to the early years I spent as a manager at Xerox to a moment when I talked to someone about some perceived failure of theirs to to do their job to my specifications. I spoke firmly but later was told I spoke harshly and out of turn. I remember my sense of frustration to this day. I don't remember why I was frustrated, but most of all I remember being told I spoke too harshly with no acceptable management skill.

After the training ended I met with my supervisor and my manager and we talked. funny how talking rather then bitching resolves the issue. Talking with my manager not about my manager is what a grown up person does to resolve problems. Gossiping to fellow coworkers compounds the problem and fosters negativity in the workplace.

What I am saying is being an employee is the easy job. You only have to worry about doing your job and satisfying your manager, one person. Your manager, on the other hand, has to find a way to manage each person in the department who comes to work with elephants on their back. Your manager has to keep each person on the path to reach department goals. Now keeping each person, who struggles with elephants on their back, on the path to the end zone is very difficult. As a manager you have to reach that goal because you have a manager to please.

When you are feeling sorry for yourself keep this in mind. Your manager is expected to make you successful because if you fail your manager is deemed to have failed to make you successful. You, as an employee only have to worry about two people...you and your manager. Your manager on the other hand has to worry about every single person who reports to them and who they report to.

Which job would you rather have?

As the worker bee, you can whine about what you perceive to be miscarriages of justice in the work place. Or you can stop expecting your manager to meet every single emotional need you have.

So today, I have decided to go to work with a positive attitude. Today I have decided to go to work and not blame me, my manager or the elephants on my back for the difficulties I find in my day.

And I won't expect my manager to be perfect. I will remember why I decided I didn't want to be a manager, because everyone expects you to be perfect and have all the answers.

And I will remember that I am not perfect.

Love to You and Yours,
NanaCarol

The Passing of People in Your Life

My cousin Barbara passed away a couple of weeks ago. She and my Aunt Orpha are the reason I am as normal as I am. I spent many of my weekends, holiday and summers at their ranch in Albany and it seemed I spent much of my time there snuggled up with one or the other. Barbara was 14 years older then me so she was like a big sister. Her room, which had huge french windows, faced the pasture where sheep grazed next to the woods of Knox Butte. Many summer nights we would lie in bed watching the twinkling stars and hear the occasional sounds of the sheep. Those nights we would talk about everything and always ended up toe wrestling.

When I wanted to go to church camp at Suttle Lake but was a little scared, my sister-cousin Barbara signed up as a camp counselor and spent several summers with 5 or 6 giggling girls. At the end of the week Aunt Orpha would pick us up and we would drive out to Eastern Oregon with no particular destination in mind for another few days. We would count jack rabbits and deer and stop for ice cream whenever we found somewhere in that remote area that had ice cream. We always stopped at Peterson's Rock Garden outside of Bend.

The time I spent with my Aunt Orpha and Barbara are the happiest memories of my childhood.

Barbara was diagnosed with Huntington's disease about 8 years ago. I went with her to hear her diagnoses and was stunned. Aunt Orpha was thought to have Huntington's too. This is a horrible disease. It is the slow deterioration of your body and mind but Barbara lived her last few years of life with grace and dignity.


I flew home for her funeral and was able to see friends and family that I dearly miss. Andy picked me up so I spent a few hours with him, then on to Stevie's home. He says he is my second daughter. Steve lost his long time partner David the month before. David was only 39 and his death was attributed to undiagnosed arteriosclerosis of the heart. It was sudden and shocking to everyone and oh so sad. That said, I enjoyed spending the night at Stevie's. We talked until I couldn't stay awake then slept with out waking once. Stevie has an airbed that is so comfortable.

My niece Debbie and I went to the funeral, and like all family weddings and funerals, there were lots of tear and lots of laughter. My Aunt Rachel has three boys (well they are grown) that are so funny. Only one came, Kerry, but he kept me laughing. In a perfect life I would live life surrounded by cousins Larry, Gary and Kerry. Now I wonder where they got their sense of humor. Aunt Rachel married Uncle Harry, then had Larry, Gary, and Kerry.

After the funeral I spent the next two days with Mary Etta and John. Seeing her so healthy reassured me after her huge scare with cancer. Her doctor made it sound so bad but her oncologist performed her surgery and she is now cancer free. No chemo. But I had to see her myself to make sure she is well and she is very well. We had dinner with her son and his wife, her other son and girl friend (who is a keeper) and grandchildren and I had the delight in teaching Ben, who is in third grade, the subtle game of last hit. Brook is in kindergarten and is all girl.

Mary Etta and I spent one day driving around Newberg and Dundee, visiting two cemeteries, her sister and brother and my daughter's resting places. And of course you can't go home without going to the Dairy Queen and having a foot-long hot dogs and hot fudge sundaes. Oh how I miss those. We parked in front of what was our high school if they hadn't torn it down, and reminised about our childhood. We really were lucky, we graduated a few years before drug era that complicated so many young lives. We just had fun. It was our most carefree time of life. I think that is why so many of us have remained good friends. We all have such good memories of growing up in Newberg.

And to conclude my losses, a male friend of mine whom I have been talking to on the phone for the last year, decided he didn't want to continue our friendship. And the way I know he didn't want to continue our friendship is he just stopped calling or returning my calls. He lives in South Carolina and we met on a web site and had spent a year getting to know each other with a lot of interest on his part. We were going to meet when he retired in a few months, or so I thought.

It still amazes me that there is no more maturity in a 61 year old man then in a 16 year old man. It is pretty dishearting to find he had so little regard for our friendship that he didn't feel the need to be a "grown up man" and let me know he was no longer interested.

At first when I didn't get any calls I was worried thinking maybe he was sick but then I thought to look on the web site where we met and there he was logged on, trolling for women. So he is alive and well. I am so glad I found out he has no integrity now, rather then wasting more time on the loser, because he is a loser. He just doesn't know what a great woman he lost. And as another great women once said, "As God as my witness, I will find a man worthy of me"

Love to you and yours,
NanaCarol

What's Wrong With The United States

I agree with Byahs. There is something wrong with the United States government? Is it the American public or the ego-maniac politicians we elect. We are so divided as a nation that our elected officials can't accomplish anything. We are spending resources just to point fingers of blame, until we have forgotten what our nation needs.

We have forgotten how to work together and they have forgotten how to work. Politicians need to stop working for their party, and start working for the American public.

I have the perfect solution. Eliminate both political parties, do away with congress and the legislature. Send them all home. I think the White House would make a wonderful woman's shelter. Fill the Pentagon with day care and senior citizen centers and the rest can be made into affordable housing.

When a decision needs to be made ask the American public what they want. Have an election and I don't mean electoral votes, every vote counts. Which ever issue gets the most votes wins. Pay an accounting firm to count the votes, a few soccer Moms(and no I don't mean Palin) to disseminate the information and we are good to go until the next need for an election.

It is the KISS premise, keep it simple stupid. This would work on a state level too. Get rid of the pork bellies. This would eliminate the ego-maniacal politicians, the insidious political driven emails from both my Republican and Democratic friends.

We don't need elected officials, we would save money, we wouldn't have to read about their adulteress affairs and they could all go back to their home states to run a muck on their own dime.

All those in favor cast their vote.

Love to you and yours,
NanaCarol

HOW TO FILL A DAY WITH NOTHINGNESS

There is nothing like having to be home all day with your leg propped up. I am beleaguered with a leg infection which takes forever to heal. Now you might say that having to sit around with nothing to do but watch TV is the dream of every working person and for a week it is fun. However extreme boredom does set in around day five.

The first three days I watched non-stop movies. Then I switched over to HGTV for a couple of days. I had to stop watching HGTV because I felt compelled to start a home decorating project which is very difficult to do while laying around with your leg up.

So I thought I would write about how my days are spent (that is how bored I am). Of course the brushing of teeth and the eating of breakfast is the real start of the day but I feel the "reel" start is when I have my coffee, the leg is elevated, and the remote is in my hand. This is the real start of my day. I go to the guide for movies and start my selection of which movies I want to watch. I select them then save them for viewing at my leisure which is pretty much all day.

The criteria for this selection varies day to day. I generally do not select movies that are not on cable channels as I hate commercials. Yes, I know I can fast forward through the commercials but by the time I have revived from the semi drugged euphoria of movie madness I spend too much time fast forward, rewinding then fast forwarding again to find the end of the commercials. Get the picture? It is much easier to avoid movies with commercials.

Since my day is so unproductive I have decided to write quick critiques of the movies I watch with recommendations for my readers so they won't waste time on a movie that is not worth watching. Nothing is more wasteful in a day filled with waste, to spend twenty to thirty minutes watching a movie and finding it incredibly awful.

This morning I watched a delightfully quirky movie and I generally only use the word quirky when I describe Joan Cusack. Now she is delightfully quirky. However there is no other word to describe this movie but quirky.

The Chumscrubber is quirky. Basically it is about a teen who lives among adults that are more screwed up then he is and we all know that most teenage boys are screwed up. It starts with a tragic event and ends out warm and fuzzy with craziness in the middle. It is a movie that you can enjoy then forget, which is my kind of movie. I highly recommend this movie.

Mancora, a foreign film, takes place in Peru my old stomping ground. Again it is based on a young man's angst after losing first his mother then years later his father. It's worth watching and left me with a deep desire to speak spanish and eat ceviche.

Love to you and yours,
NanaCarol

FOR SALE, CHILDREN, TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER

Society has always treated children as a commodity. In Ireland, the Catholic Priests told young pregnant single women it was best if they "fostered" their children to British families. They were told they could get them back. These children were sent to Australia where they were abused by the Christian Brothers and told their parents were dead.

It goes on and on. Children sold to the highest bidder. We "say" the trafficking of children is illegal but yet we allow children to be adopted from foreign countries even while they have parents. Parents that are unable to support their children make the ultimate sacrifice by signing their children over to the highest bidders. Unscrupulous adoption agencies being the money makers. The children come to the United States, they lose their culture, their language, and sometimes their faith.
I can't help wondering if this isn't a form of slavery? The buying and selling of humans. You will say these children are brought here not to be slaves, but aren't they slaves to those parents who parade them around in society to make the parent appear as selfless pious Christians?

I am sure some of you feel they should be grateful for all the advantages we can offer them.....IPods and cell phones. And doesn't it make us look like wonderful Christians.....we are "saving" the under privileged "have nots".

Now in my Christian world the true "Christian" would help those parents become self-sufficient and able to raise their own children. Poverty shouldn't be a reason to give your children over to someone with better financial resources.

I do believe some children should be removed from their parents custody, in cases of child abuse.

If you want children and are unable to conceive, look at children in your "own back yard" instead of going to third world countries to steal/buy their children. If it takes too long to adopt children in the United States get the laws changed.

But somehow I don't believe the parents seeking children from poverty stricken countries have altruistic motives. I think if you looked in their souls you would find the need to appear like saviors. They want society to stoke and pet them to fulfill a need they have. I wonder what Jesus would say.

Understand I am not against adoption. I was adopted at four months of age from a women who didn't have the emotional where with all to raise a fourth child. I get that. And I do believe some children should be removed from their parents custody, in cases of child abuse.

My point is, while we campaign to shop locally, buy USA, shouldn't we also say adopt in the USA as well.

Love to You and Yours,
NanaCarol

Always Loving, Always Loved - Oct. 20th, 1966 - Dec. 26th, 1984

When she was born, I looked at her and thought she was the most beautiful baby in the world. In my twenty years I had never looked like anyone or had anyone look like me. Being adopted there are never familiar similarities to anyone in your family. But looking at her little face I saw bits and pieces of myself.

And when she died I lost more then bits and pieces of myself. More then bits and pieces that I never found again. Losing a child is indescribable, words can't speak to that kind of grief and pain.

An emmy award should be given to every parent who has ever lost a child and not turned to drugs or alcohol to anesthetize themselves against the pain. Because those of us that survive without drug or alcohol become award winning actors portraying the living.

You learn to smile and laugh. You fake happiness and mentally write suicide notes. You get really good at faking, until the time draws near to the anniversary of their death.

And then you can't hide it very well and those that know you best, that were there to share in the dreadful event know what you know. They know how hard each day, each minute is to your spirit.

Most of the year I can speak quite clinically about the daughter that once was then wasn't. But come the time between the anniversary of her birth and the anniversary of her death come the "dark" times when you mentally write those notes daily, sometimes hourly.

The times you can't tell if you are tired from lack of sleep or tired from the grief that wraps around your heart and squeezes.

Then when you are just about ready to grab that notepad, the date passes and the squeeze around your heart lessens and you breath a sigh and know that for a while you can go on. And you store away that notepad for another year.

At that time I remind myself how fortunate I was to have had a daughter so wonderful that the pain of losing her lasts a lifetime.

Love to you and yours,
NanaCarol

What Makes A Person A Parent

To me one of the great mysteries of the universe is how men can disassociate themselves from their children after a divorce. Is it guilt because they aren't there for the day to day routine of parenting? Or are they just totally irresponsible, heartless humans, or better said....inhumans.

During my marriage I never questioned the love my spouse felt for his children. When home, he was there, not mind wandering about life outside the home. Sure he worked long hours and much of the day to day parenting duties were my responsibility but that was not unusual for the times. He had a career and I only had a job, one I could call to tell them I had sick kids and wouldn't be in.

When the the big "D" happened and the kids and I returned to my hometown I felt although more difficult he would continue to see his children. Little did I imagine he wouldn't see his children for fourteen years.

He missed school plays, T-Ball, Football and countless wrestling matches. He wasn't there to see one son take first in district. He wasn't there to see the other son take second in state. He couldn't drive the 150 miles to see his son wrestle at Regionals. He couldn't drive 15 miles to watch football games where his sons were football heroes.

He wasn't there when his step daughter, who thought of him as her father, drew her last breath after a vigilante battle with cancer. He wasn't there when her casket was lowered into the ground while her brothers, tears streaming down their faces, said goodbye to their much loved sister.

He wasn't there in the months and years to follow as they struggled with their grief. He didn't call to console them. I don't think he even thought about their loss.

What kind of man was he? I don't know. I have thought and thought about what kind of man he is. He spent thirty years serving his country. He loves his sister, nieces and nephews and was a devoted son. But he couldn't put his children's needs in front of his own.

I consider myself to be a bright women but wonder how I could have been so stupid to think this man had the potential to be a father. It makes me question my ability to judge people. Maybe that is why I have never remarried.

What is even more amazing is that my story is not unique. I have heard so many sad stories from single Moms about the "lost" Dads. What causes this phenomenon? Is it a genetic flaw that only men carry? We know it is a character flaw, but could it be a genetic flaw?

Love to you and yours,
NanaCarol