Posts Tagged With: communication

Do you even Bitmoji?

This is my Bitmoji. She looks as much like me as a bunch of pixels possibly can. And y’all, I have to tell you, I love the stuffing out of her!

I enjoy communicating with my Bitmoji. With Nora, mostly via text, and Sundance via text and Snapchat, but especially with Thing 1 and Thing 2. We have a group chat in Snapchat that makes it SUPER easy to use our Bitmojis.

Another thing that’s cool about Bitmoji in Snapchat is that if another Snapchat user has a Bitmoji, they can do things together. But only one at a time, so when it comes to my group chat with the girls, it’s just one of them with me at a time.

Thing 1 sent me a kiss.

Thanks to the Olympics, Thing 2 was able to express her love of figure skating.

I have no idea why Thing 2 and I are behind this tree, but we look shady af.

I sent this one when I expressed my desire to wave a magic wand to alleviate her morning sickness. I love love love her little baby bump!

The girls Bitmojis bring me such joy! They look so like my girls. And seeing them all together makes me all smiley. If our avatars can be in the same place at the same time, it feels more like we’re together even when we’re far apart.

I recently changed my Bitmoji’s hair. I was wearing it curly for so long while trying to grow it out from a pixie cut that was never as cute on me as it was in the photos. Letting my curls do their thing made it simpler to tolerate the growing out process. But now that it’s the way I want it, I’ve been putting forth the effort to wear my hair straight.
Thing 1 quickly expressed that she is not a fan of the new do.
It’s funny, because her straight hair makes her look younger than her curly hair…perhaps as a soon to be grandmother, she ought not look younger?

Anyway, they’re fun and playful and we get great joy from sharing them.
You can check out the updated app that lets you create an avatar here:

Advertisements
Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

let us treat self expression with respect

There will be those with differing opinions. And that’s fine with me.
Isn’t that what makes it interesting to be a human? To think and feel things that may be a bit different than the things thought and felt by the people you know?
I’ve learned so much about myself and the world by engaging in conversations of differing opinions.
Here’s the most important thing I learned.
It’s all about respect.
I respect your right to your differing opinions. I expect that same respect in return.
Easy peasy lemon squeezy right?
(Yeah, I know.)

I received a snapchat from my daughter two days ago. It amused me so. I was amused because I too have been where she was. I was also struck by the truth in it. Her truth. Where she was in that moment.
It was real. It was honest. And it was a true representation of her sense of humor.

I know the differing opinion folks might have something to say about her attitude or language. I know I would never have sent something like that to my own mother.
But my girl, she is different.
And I’m a different sort of mom.

Here’s the what.
Honest self expression is not always the simplest action. So if one can manage to speak their truth I say, Bravo! Sometimes that truth comes via opening credits of a television show and quippy language.
I was amused enough to take a screenshot.
At the time, I had no idea I’d be using it for a post, I just knew it was a perfect encapsulation of who my daughter is and why I love her.
It really does come down to respect. I respect her enough to encourage her self expression. She respects me enough to know that she can be herself with me.
And the respect from those of differing opinion to acknowledge that my daughter has an interesting way about her without judging it.

This is what I know.
Be respectful. (of yourself and others)
Speak your truth.
If you do the first, the second will be much simpler, no matter how you choose to express yourself.

Categories: on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

let’s communicate in hashtags

I got a text from my sister in law in Charleston on Friday suggesting a new way to communicate. She said she wanted to send me a hashtag of what she observed in the world and as a barometer of how she’s feeling.
I adore the idea! We can go as sedate or over the top as needed. Sometimes it’ll be ridiculously long and complicated, other times less so.

I present for your consideration as sampling of our hashtag communication.

Friday July 29, 2016
Hers: #sometimesitsbettertojustdoityourself
Mine: #ineedanappy
Hers: #icantbenicetoday
Mine: #justcallmethemistressofallevil and then #f**kem

Nothing transpired on Saturday.

Sunday July 31,2016
Mine: #phantomoftheopera
Hers: #luckyduck and then #ilivevicariouslythroughyou
Mine: #igotyouyo and then #mikesfordinner
Hers: #fml
Mine: #ihatetherforeiam
Hers: #cestmoi
Mine: #iloveyyouohmygoodness
Hers: #validation
Mine: #iwillalwasyhaveyourback

I wrote about my emotional struggles last week in strangest, weirdest, most complicated woman and I’ve written about my beloved sister in law in emotionally safe in the nest.
She and I have a curious relationship. We tease that she, and not Thing 1, is my first daughter. We are truly sisters, but as I am the consummate nurturer, and she grew up without a healthy maternal relationship, we simply fell into that pattern in our own relationship. Neither of us mind, because she has nurtured me when I’ve needed it too.

We all struggle with our lives, with our choices. We have real love for the people in our world and sometimes real dislike. It has it’s own natural ebb and flow.
Her suggestion to communicate in hashtags was brilliant as far as I’m concerned. It’s a simple way to not overthink or overstate what we see and feel. Sometimes it my seem more negative than positive, but that’s the genius of it. One tiny hashtag can expel a great deal of negative energy, thus creating space for something positive.

Yesterday, YBW and I went to see Phantom with friends. Before we even left the house, I told YBW that I was uncomfortable. If it hadn’t been since I was pregnant with Thing 2 that I’d seen Phantom, I may have even begged off. I love this couple as individual people, and I can see how much good they are for each other, but I absolutely cannot stand to be with them any longer than I have to. They don’t socialize in the ‘group’, they socialize with each other which leaves others in the ‘group’ working hard to create a healthy social climate within the group. And I simply was not having it. But I wanted to see Phantom and I’m perfectly capable of keeping my mouth shut and ignoring what goes on around me enough to enjoy the show.
I actually fantasized about jumping from the moving car to get away from these people. Of course, YBW was going damn near 80 up I95…so I considered how much skin I might lose and what sort of head trauma might occur and made the decision to remain safely buckled in the vehicle. #dammit

Now, partly this is me. I’ve been in a strange place emotionally. I’m aware of and admit that. In the last week I’ve been told (by people who love me and have my best interests at heart) I’m quick to judge and that I because I speak my mind, I can come across as abrasive.
Um…thanks? #kissmyfrecklywhiteass
I know these things were said to me out of love, because I trust the person who said them. But if I was to boil myself down to two descriptive things those would not be the ones. #notreallyabitch

I apologized for being caustic, explained that was not my intention.
If I can’t speak honestly and from my heart, why speak at all? I’m a straight shooter. I don’t pull punches. I say what I think and feel out of love. Out of a desire to help others, and continue to learn. #velvethammer

I’m tired of censoring myself for the sake of other people’s feelings. I honestly can’t believe I’m as bad as all that…if I was, nobody would want to be around me ever. And guess what? Folks want to be around me.

I understand my sister in law’s desire to communicate via hashtags. I’m going to continue to text her hashtags and enjoy receiving hers. It amuses me. It’s a playful way to say what you need to say without fear recrimination. Because more than anything, more than judgement, more than annoyance, more than anything, I love. And that right there is enough reason for me. #hatersgonnahate but #ilove

Categories: love, me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

communication is (sometimes a tricky) key

Communication is key.
That’s a saying, right? I’m not dreaming that up, am I? Nopity nope. Not dreaming it up, I just Googled it.

I know that I’m “wordy”. I also know that I’d make a terrible poker player. My face completely fails at hiding my thoughts. Apparently my facial expressions come across as offensive when I’m being wordy. My facial expressions happen as I’m trying to make sense of what I’m saying. But it seems the perception is that my face is saying is that I think everyone else is an idiot.
Do I think everyone else is an idiot? Um…no.
What I think is I’m trying to answer questions I’m being asked…and doing a “double check” in my brain to make sure I know what I’m talking about and that the answers are correct as much as I know. This is what shows on my face.
I grow weary of being told I look like I think people are stupid. Especially when it’s the furthest thing from my mind.
My initial reaction is, “I give up.” So much so that I say it out loud even.
But that’s not realistic. And I’m not a quitter…
So, I have made a bargain with myself to “fix my face” when I talk. I’m hopeful it works to change the perception of what I’m thinking. Because no matter how many times I’ve said what’s actually going on in my head, folks get their feelings hurt.
I don’t want to hurt folks’ feelings. I’m just trying to understand what’s coming out of my own mouth.
Sometimes I wonder if I should just write everything and never actually talk. When I write, I can edit as I go…and that would take care of the facial expressions. (I make the same faces when I write, but nobody ever sees them.)

I don’t want to be forced into changing who I am…but I’m weary of hurting folks’ feelings. I’m weary of having explain myself.
Communication doesn’t have to be this tricky, right?

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

black (like my heart) Friday

It’s not even eight o’clock and I worry where the day will lead when a fight gets picked within six minutes of waking up. My instinct is to run. In my jammies and sock footed to get in my car and get away from here.
It seems as though I have a tone that sounds accusatory and inappropriate when speaking to YBW. I feel sure it wasn’t my tone, more the subject matter.
Or perhaps the fact that I had an opinion about the subject matter at all.
Or perhaps the fact that he’s felt belittled his entire life and I’ve spent mine struggling to be heard has the most to do with it. I tend to say things over and in different ways because I have a real and desperate need to feel heard. He tends to hear everything as some sort of condemnation, that he’s simply not right or good enough.
This can, on occasion, be a difficult way to communicate.
This morning was one of those times.

As I write this, I am actively fighting my instinct to run. That anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, the fiery feeling in my brain stem screaming at me to get out and go someplace safe.
Before it’s all over, I suspect I’ll end up with a headache but I can handle that.

It’s not the first time this week there’s been a breakdown in communication that caused a fight. Lately I don’t feel like I can express myself unless I’m very careful to censor the subject matter. This of course triggers my deeply rooted and insecure hot buttons.
I believe it’s mostly about subject matter with YBW and I’ve considered just removing certain subjects from our conversations. Only that’s not a realistic way to live…or communicate. So I watch my tone and try to be honest. I try not to make him feel criticized or attacked in any way.
It’s still censorship.
Kindness is uniquely important…therefore not really censorship? I don’t actually know.

I don’t think YBW is an ass, or stupid, or any of the other things I occasionally get accused of. I think we hear what we’ve been conditioned to hear. We ALL hear what we’ve been conditioned to hear.
I have worked hard to show him I do not think those negative things about him with the sincere hope he will one day know that.

I’m struggling with this life.
I left my life to come be in his life with him with the plan it would become our life.
I have to “parent” two kids that are not mine. Who were raised completely differently than I know how to raise children. So I adapt to the way they do things in this family.
It’s hard. It makes me sad sometimes.
I feel like I’ve had to make all the sacrifices to be in this relationship. (He has made huge financial sacrifices, but the rest of his life pretty much got to stay the same.)
I always knew I would be the one who would assimilate into his life. There was never any question of that for simple logistics, his younger son, his home and employer.
I guess I didn’t realize it would be quite so hard.

It’s painful to feel I gave up everything to make a new life. I always felt it was going to be a better life, so that made the initial pain easier to stomach. I guess I just didn’t realize it would continue to feel that way.
Is it because I’m all settled and we’re comfortable? Is it because neither of us is on “our best behavior” anymore?
I feel like the life I chose, my life, the one I chose when I was twenty years old…however awful it became…was mine. By my own design.
This life is me trying to fit into the life someone else designed.
I deserve the chance to make it mine too.

Yesterday I watched the people in my life sit on the sofa while I made sure we had proper Thanksgiving dinner for their family.
I was asked if I need help, I was asked for specific directions.
I’m not a general. I don’t want to bark orders.
I want people to take initiative…or at the very least get up off their ass and stand in the kitchen with me so I don’t feel like everybody’s bitch.

I don’t think I’m unreasonable. And I can assure you I’ve examined that possibility.

I’m sitting on the sofa with tears on my face and Thing G is worried and comes to hug me.
That innocent kindness is unconditional love.
Unconditional love eludes some of us it’s something we never truly feel. That breaks my heart. I know I have it to give it’s not often that I receive it.
Love is a curious thing.
My heart still feels black but I see light nearer to me.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

DIY Home & Garden

A Resource For Gardening, DIY Projects, and Recipes

Clean Mama

thoughts are ready to hatch

Living In the Sweet Spot

"You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present." Jan Glidewell

Waking up on the Wrong Side of 50

Navigating the second half of my life

Sawblades In Your Walkman

I'm the rain on your parade

The Blonde at the Film

a fresh look at old films

Must Be This Tall To Ride

I'm a single dad documenting his journey. A guy trying to walk a higher path. And messing up. A lot.

Staying Southern

A guide to living a Southern life outside the South

rhondastephens

To Catch A Falling Cactus

ChrissyAdventures

Everyday is an Adventure. Embrace it

Here By Design

Ideas and inspiration for beautiful, sustainable gardens.

Kana Wanders

Life in Kana-text (er... CONtext)

Spring into Summer

finding my voice and speaking my truth

witlessdatingafterfifty

Relationships reveal our hearts.

JackCollier7

Charming, cultured, generous, honest, sophisticated, understanding, and urbane.

The Georgetown Metropolitan

News, Information, and Events for the Georgetown Community

%d bloggers like this: