5 words for 2013: What well wishes for the new year mean to one grandma

For the past couple of weeks, many of the emails I've received—and sent—start or end with wishes for the new year. Most often it's been something along the lines of the straightforward Happy New Year to you and yours! Or perhaps a Best wishes for peace, prosperity and success!

I appreciate the well wishes, and I hope those to whom I offer them do as well, for I do say them in all sincerity despite how generic such sentiments may seem.

We all use basically the same words for the good tidings—how many ways, really, are there for offering up New Year's greetings?—yet I'm pretty sure the meaning for each of us on the receiving end is quite different.

Here is what the oft-used words mean to me, specifically in relation to 2013:

HAPPINESS
To me, happiness is so relative. It can depend on how fat I might feel at any particular time; how much I have on my to-do list or how much free time I have to do something I enjoy; if Jim helps with the dishes or not; when I'll get to see my grandsons again; and on and on and on. One day may be a happy one and the next not so much. Heck, it's often that way from minute to minute, not just day to day, depending on how many hot flashes I experience in those minutes.

So instead of expecting to have a happy year, with heaps of happiness from beginning to end, I prefer to focus more on joy. Even in the very worst of times, the deepest and darkest moments, I can and usually do feel joy, have joy, experience joy. Joy, in contrast to happiness, doesn't depend on exterior influences; it's something deep inside and I'm fortunate to have it, regardless of how happy or unhappy I may be at any given time. I'm pretty sure I won't have a completely happy new year regardless of how many folks wish that for me. I will, though, have a year filled with joy, which is good enough for me.

PEACE
Another very relative term, as there's only so much one can do to work toward peace throughout the world. Peace for me personally would be the peace in knowing everything is going to be okay. With my family, my finances, my goals. Despite having the joy I mentioned above, I'm not an incredibly peaceful person. I'm worried about this or that more often than not, and usually have to force myself to breathe deep and just let go of the fear and trembling, inside and out. I want peace, welcome peace, so this is an especially appreciated wish for the coming year.

PROSPERITY
Ah, prosperity. I'm pretty sure that peace I long for would be so much easier to come by if only my wishes of prosperity were to come true. I know, I know—money does not buy happiness. But it definitely would help me stop worrying about the lack of it, the focus of which has consumed more than a fair share of the past few years.

SUCCESS
There are so, so many ways I'm striving to succeed this year, so I'll take all the wishes for success I can get. To me, success takes the form of simply being better in most of my current pursuits, which may or may not mean there will be financial gain attached. I want to succeed at being a better—and traditionally published—writer. I want to succeed at being a better blogger, moving beyond the plateau I've found myself on. I want to succeed at being a better wife, mother, grandmother, friend—including being a better friend to myself, the person on whom I'm most hard. I want to succeed at reading more, singing more, traveling more, taking better photos. I want to succeed at fitting in some time on the piano again and succeed at losing a few—no, many—pounds. Yes, I want success—my idea of success.

GOOD HEALTH
This one would be far easier if I'd lose those pounds mentioned above. Sure, I want to look better, but more so, I want to feel better, and that would start with shedding the extra weight. My bloggy friend Chloe recently mentioned that we in mid-life and beyond need to exercise as if our life depends on it—because our life literally does depend on it, especially in terms of the degree to which we'll enjoy the rest of our life. I'm taking her advice to heart and plan to exercise more and eat better for the sake of achieving better health in 2013. Bonus for doing so? I will likely look better in 2013—and beyond—too.

Bottom line
To all who have wished me any of the above, I offer sincere thanks. And to each and every one of you reading this, I sincerely wish you joy, peace, prosperity, success, and good health in 2013—in whatever ways those words personally matter and mean the most to you.

graphic: stock.xchng

Today's question:

Of the words mentioned above, which do you most wish for in 2013?

To my 20-year-old self

I'm fortunate to be part of a Facebook group of midlife women bloggers, called GenFab (Generation Fabulous). This week we have our first blog hop, posting on "What would you tell your 20-year-old self?" Here is my response, followed by links to the moving posts from my GenFab friends.

Dear 20-year-old Lisa,

You became a mom when still just a child yourself. As you suspect, the age at which you have your three precious daughters (yep, that babe in your belly right now is a girl, too) will affect everything you do and are throughout your life.

That can be a good thing, though—if you allow it.

In hopes you will indeed allow it, I have some advice for you. Despite you being stubborn in ways many have yet to realize, I do hope you'll take my advice to heart, act on it.

My advice is this:

Stop being so scared. You're scared about what's to come, what people think of you, what your girls—hell, what you—will grow up to do and be. You're scared of the other, older moms who seem to know and have and be so much more than you. You're scared of not knowing enough, not having enough, not being enough.

Well knock it off! There's no reason to be scared. Well, there is reason sometimes. But there will soon be an advertising tagline that says, Feel the fear and do it anyway. Do exactly that—always, in all ways.

Question authority. That principal who tells you it's okay to send your barely five-year-old daughter to kindergarten? Question that. That doctor who tells you tubes in a child's ears are a thing of the past? Question that. That same doctor, who tells you your daughter has an infection when it turns out to be a <cuss> hernia? Question that. When you're assured a negative amortization loan is okay, question it. And when an editor rejects your work, question that—then send it to other editors and never. ever. give. up.

Don't take the job. A few years from now, you'll be offered a job by someone you consider worldly and wise. Don't take it. The damage to your self-esteem, marriage and more because of "friends" you make there is so not worth it. Trust me. Yes, your household desperately needs the money, but Just say NO! (another slogan that will soon be a pop culture hit).

Brace yourself. I know you, I know you'll ignore the advice above. So brace yourself. The stress caused by the consequences of that bad choice will wreak havoc on your health in ways that will affect you each and every day for the rest of your life. Seriously. But know this: It's not as bad as doctors first tell you. You will walk again. You will see again. In fact, your neurologist will one day tell you you're a miracle. Trust that doctor. And trust that you will be okay.

Brace yourself, part two. Those little girls you hold in your arms today and the tiny one in your womb? Well, they're going to hate you. They will love you at first, of course. But when they're teens, they will hate you. Or at least think they hate you and make you think they really do. Because you'll be a mean mom and won't allow them to do much of what their friends do. Yet you won't be able to stop the typical teen stuff your girls manage to do anyway. And your disapproval, restrictions, and determination that they respect themselves and their parents—and that they just plain stay alive through the trauma-filled teen years!—will have them screaming, crying, resisting, and swearing they hate you because you are such a mean mom.

Be mean anyway. Regardless of their freakouts and your heartbreak and self doubt, be mean. It's what those girls—what many children—need. One day they will thank you, I swear. In fact, one night 28 years from now, that tiny bundle in your belly, the baby whom you've not yet met, will send you a text (something you'll learn to do decades from now) that says this:

Your baby girl's text—along with similar gratitude from her older sisters, once grown—confirm being mean was one of the most right things you'll do.

Have no doubt, the years ahead will definitely suck at times. But those sucky times will make you stronger, smarter, bring into breathtaking focus the brilliance of the many non-sucky times. Ultimately, you, your marriage (which does last, by the way, despite the challenges, stats, and naysayers), your babies, your eventual grandbabies, your life will turn out far better than you ever imagined.

Even if you don't listen to my advice.

Which I know you won't. Because you've always been far more stubborn than most people realize.

I love you anyway.

~ Your far older and a wee bit wiser self

Today's question:

What would you tell your 20-year-old self?

Please enjoy the heartfelt posts from my GenFab friends. Warning: Tissue alert for most!

The Saturday Post: Women Vote - 'Night of Terror' edition

It's far too easy to take for granted that women have a voice and a hard-earned right, thanks to what those brave and persistent women before us endured.

Make your voice heard. Exercise your right. Vote!

Find more on women's suffrage on Snopes and Wikipedia.

Enjoy your Saturday — and shout Hooray! for it being the last Saturday we have to endure political commercials!

The Saturday Post: Before I die I want to... edition

Today's profundity courtesy TEDtalks.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

Before I die I want to ______________.

Brave chickens

My girls — No longer this crazy but now twice as brave.
 

The spookiness of the season seems to be taking its toll on my grandsons.

Mac, who's 16 months old and has been sleeping through the night for quite some time, has awakened screaming in the middle of the night for more than a week now. After ruling out illness, teething, earaches and pains, the only logical reason may be nightmares attributed to spider and ghost decor, plus viewings of Mickey's House of Villains at Bubby's side.

And Bubby, who loves those cartoons of Donald and Mickey braving scary places and villains in his current favorite DVD, doesn't fare as well with his own made-up tales. Megan said Bubby asked for a flashlight a few evenings ago and for Megan to join him in a spooky storytelling session. Only, once Bubby started telling the spooky made-up tale he hoped to share, he declared, "No, I gotta stop! It's too scary!" Megan tried to convince him that as he was the storyteller, the degree of spookiness was completely up to him, yet Bubby refused to go on.

Megan's concerned a bit by Mac's fears, chuckles a bit at Bubby's. I told her to consider what a chicken she was as a child. This is the daughter who, all the way up until leaving for college, would literally run to and from the bathroom if she had to pee in the middle of the night and who used a night light up until she got married. Heck, I'm pretty sure she still uses a night light—disguised as two baby monitors she swears she can't yet give up, for the boys' sake, of course.

Megan is a chicken. Her boys clearly take after her.

In so many other ways, though, Megan is far from a chicken, and brave far beyond what I ever expected of my chicken little girl. She was the first daughter to go far away to a college where she knew no one, a place seven hours from home. She also was the first to move far away from the family home after college to make her own home with her husband. And she was the first to bravely run an official half marathon race—a challenge she asked her sisters to do along with her, for their first times, in just a few weeks.

Her sisters accepted the invitation and will fly to the desert the first weekend of November to run 13.1 miles with Megan. Which shouldn't surprise me as my girls—typically so very different in so very many ways—are very much the same when it comes to bravery in the face of challenge and opportunity.

My youngest, Andrea, has from day one done crazy, daring acts that forever live in family lore. Things like the time she unexpectedly jumped from our boat while no one was looking, right into the cold waters of a mountain lake where we vacationed, just to shock us all. Or touched her tongue to the frozen wrought iron stair railing to see if it really would stay stuck to it (it did). And like yesterday, when she flew off—alone—on yet another solo vacation to parts of the country she's not yet seen.

My oldest, Brianna, may not (yet) take vacations on her own, but she regularly stares down fear and faces challenges of other sorts. One example: This weekend she is riding a bike down Pikes Peak. Yes, you read that right. Early tomorrow morning, Brianna and a friend will, starting at the summit, hop on bicycles—not motorcycles—and pedal down the 14,000-foot-plus mountain. For fun. Crazy, crazy, crazy. And brave, I must admit.

How that happened—how my daughters ended up brave in so many ways—I have no clue. They definitely didn't get it from me. They didn't get it from Jim, either, to be sure, as we're both rather chicken-like in myriad ways of our own.

So when it comes to Bubby and Mac being scared—whether at Halloween or of harrowing acts in the future—I'll continually advise them to look to their mommy and aunts as role models on how to be brave, how to feel most any fear yet do most anything anyway.

For models of bravery are what my daughters have been to me, and what they will always be.

Regardless of how long they use a nightlight.

Today's question:

What about Halloween used to (or still does) make a chicken of you?

Quotes and kids

As has been the case for millions around the country, the last four years have been pretty much economic <cuss> for my husband and me, as I was laid off from my well-paying job in 2008 and haven't returned to full-time work since. It's been a challenge, to say the least.

Every once in a while, though, we get good news, have our prayers answered. Yesterday, exactly that happened. The news won't change our lives, but it certainly lightened our load, made our hearts happy and full.

So no profundities from me today, my friends, just a smattering of recent photos of my favorite boys along with a few of my favorite quotes. I'm hoping the positivity will keep my heart light yet full as long as possible.

Perhaps it will do the same for yours.

Sometimes grace works like water wings when you feel as if you are sinking. ~ Anne Lamott

Strive not to be a success but rather to be of value. ~ Albert Einstein

Most of the shadows of this life are caused by standing in one's own sunshine. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

By perseverance the snail reached the ark. ~ Charles H. Spurgeon

For peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe. ~ Larry Eisenberg

Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished: If you're alive, it isn't. ~ Richard Bach

All sunshine makes a desert. ~ Arab proverb

From what we get, we can make a living; from what we give, however, makes a life. ~ Arthur Ashe

The last of the human freedoms is to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances. ~ Viktor Frankl

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Laughter is a tranquilizer with no side effects. ~ Arnold Glasgow

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. ~ Albert Einstein

This post linked to Grandparents Say It Saturday

Today's question:

What is one of your favorite quotes?

The Saturday Post: May I Suggest edition

I recently had the privilege of becoming part of a private Facebook group of mid-life bloggers and writers. The creative women in that group inspire me daily, and I'm so honored to be in their midst.

One of the co-creators of the group, the beautiful inside and out Chloe Jeffreys, posted last week a video of a conference she attended. The music she attached to the footage was hauntingly beautiful and resonated, soul deep.

Of course I had to search for that song and share it with you here:

May I Suggest — by Susan Warner (thanks to Chloe for graciously including the lyrics)

May I suggest
May I suggest to you
May I suggest this is the best part of of your life

May I suggest
this time is blessed for you
this time is blessed and shining almost blinding bright
just turn your head
and you’ll begin to see
the thousand reasons that were just beyond your sight

the reasons why
why I suggest to you
why I suggest this is the best part of your life

there is a world
that’s been addressed to you
addressed to you, intended only for your eyes
a secret world
a treasure chest to you
of private scenes and brilliant dreams that mesmerize

a tender lover’s smile
a tiny baby’s hands
the million stars that fill the turning sky at night

Oh I suggest
Yes I suggest to you
Yes I suggest this is the best part of your life

There is a hope
that’s been expressed in you
the hope of seven generations, maybe more
this is the fate
that they invest in you
it’s that you’ll do one better than was done before

inside you know
inside you understand
inside you know what’s yours to finally set right

and I suggest
and I suggest to you
and I suggest this is the best part of your life

this is a song
comes from the west to you
comes from the west, comes from the slowly setting sun
this is a song
with a request of you
to see how very short the endless days will run
and when they’re gone
and when the dark descends
we’d give anything for one more hour of life

may I suggest
this is best part of your life

Have a beautiful Saturday.