Wildflower Writes

My fortune at the Chinese restaurant was “Sell your ideas they are totally acceptable.” Oh, and my lucky numbers are 10, 11, 25, 29, 32, and 47. Which is sad because my birthday is next week and none of those numbers is my birthdate or my age. I was just thinking today that I need to be less attached to my ideas . I become my ideas, to the point that if you don’t like my idea, I take it personally. I know that’s not logical, it’s just the way I’ve always been. I got a piece I’d written sent back covered in “red ink” last week, and I was devastated. There was this voice in my head that said, “Toughen up. You’re never going to make it as a writer if you can’t take a little criticism.” Of course, that’s my fear- that I’m not good enough. But Chinese fortune says differently! I have tons of ideas. So many that I’ve thought about hiring myself out as a board member to various organizations just to help them come up with new ideas. Now, I admit, I’m not the best person to see an idea t...

I enjoy festivals . It’s not the crowds, because I could do without that. It’s the celebratory atmosphere, the neighborly chats, and the break in the everyday humdrum. I just came back from the Wakarusa Maple Syrup Festival. Even though it was cold and wet, my children and I had a really nice time. After several years of festivalling with my children, I’ve learned a few things. 1. Know where you’re going. I spent a half hour traipsing all over a small town with young children because I was too proud to get a map and too cheap to pay for a shuttle. These days almost everything is online. You can look up schedules, directions, everything. You just have to plan ahead. 2. Dress for the weather. And walking. I always make my kids where tennis shoes and socks, even if it’s scalding hot. Hot is better than blisters. I also try to prepare for the worst. It was fifty degrees outside today, but if we hadn’t all had long sleeves and winter coats, we would have frozen. Ponchos would have ...

Elizabeth Taylor is still stealing headlines weeks after her death. Who was Liz Taylor? Why was she called “Liz” when she didn’t even like the nickname? How could someone who was so adored by the public seem to be constantly seeking love? I’m too young to appreciate who Elizabeth Taylor was in her glory days. I can look at her pictures, at that fabulous hair, itty bitty waist, gorgeous skin, and dark eyes (some people say her eyes were violet). She was an accomplished actress and Oscar winner, well known for her roles such as Cleopatra . She was actually a British citizen, born in London, ballet dancing virtually from birth. Her father was an art dealer, her mother, a stage actress. Practically after setting foot on American soil at the age of ten, she was in the movies. Less than a decade later, she was pursuing what some considered her second career: marriage. Seven husbands, eight marriages , spanning over 40 years. How could someone so loved by the public struggle to find ...

I think that people reach their mid-life crisis (I’m pretty sure everyone has one) when they realize that time is going by so fast, they can’t keep up any more. It’s like the moment when your child passes you by in a talent or skill. Weren’t you just teaching him how to sing a nursery rhyme, and now he’s performing in front of others? Weren’t you just showing her how to kick a ball, and now she’s winning soccer championships? Around the same time, your child believes he or she is so much smarter than you. I don’t mean when you can no longer help them with their math homework. I mean your child’s perceived reality is that you can’t possible know all the right answers or give good advice and you are basically clueless to the real world. While your child is dealing with a new identity crisis: Who am I? Where am I going? What do I want to do with my life?- you start to have one as well. You may have spent the last 12 to 15 years in the role of a parent- maybe in the same job or field...

I’ve always had a problem with boundaries . It’s not due to some traumatic event in my childhood. Rather, it’s a defective personality (so to speak). I am a people pleaser. And a perfectionist. So I not only want to make people happy, I want to make everyone happy, all the time. I’ve grown up and I’ve realized that one person can’t possibly please everyone she meets. I’ve also decided it’s okay to say “no” to a lot of good things: projects, organizations, and ideas, when I don’t have the interest, time, or ability to see them through. Now I’m in a situation where I’m really struggling to create or maintain boundaries as needed- mostly with myself! I work from home. I also manage the home. So, while I’m trying to work on a grant proposal or write a blog, that growing pile of laundry is nagging me. My daughter comes home from school and wants to talk. My husband can’t find his keys. My sister needs help with her kids. While I am so glad to have a more flexible schedule so that I ...

I sent out a silent plea to my bathroom scale to read under a certain number (a lady never tells).  The scale laughed at me.  "Yeah, right," she said.  (Of course it's a she.  I'm in my bathroom!)  "Aren't you the same person who ate half a box of Thin Mints last night?"  "So?"  I asked, indignant that she would even bring up such a thing.  What I consume in the privacy of my own bedroom is my own business.  I got on the scale any way, and lo and behold, it was five pounds over my requested number. What really stinks is that I had set a goal at the beginning of the year to be at my ideal weight by my birthday next month.  Alas, I still have 10 pounds to go.  I think that's where I started in the first place. I'm not sure why I'm surprised.  I was supposed to start running again at the first of the month.  I don't like running outside in the cold and I haven't saved up for a treadmill yet.  So, I exercised... o...

It is officially the first day of Spring and I am taking it on as my second New Year. Spring is supposed to be a time of new beginnings , of new growth and turning over new leaves. That is what I’m doing this year. Three weeks ago tomorrow I was let go from my stressful job as an admissions representative for a nursing home. Today I am ready to write a thank you note to the person who gave me the “pink slip.” After the initial shock, I’ve done some evaluating and praying and really feel that God opened the door to a prison cell, and I am FREE! I now sleep better at night, have put away the anti-depressants, have fewer GI problems… Although I hated that job, I didn’t realize what it was doing to me. It was my security blanket , though, and I never would have let go if someone hadn’t wrenched it from my hands. So, I am pursuing my dream as a self-employed, work-from-home, freelance writer . I have several projects in the works already, including a grant, three blogs, a press releas...