Enjoying the Small Things

Enjoying the Small Things

The Little Tool That’s Changing My Productivity Game

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One of my resolutions this year is to be more productive with my time, but that broad resolution deserves some breakdown into more specific manageable goals. Because I know my tendencies and am aware of how my productivity has changed over time, I recognize one particular mindset that continually sets me back–waiting for one big dedicated block of time to tackle a project or “get things done” and squandering all the perfectly good smaller chunks of time available in the meantime. Here’s the thing–those dedicated stretches of quiet appointment-free days labeled “clean the garage” or “work on book”? They are most often mirages–dreamy fictional destinations I will always be seeing in the distance but never arrive to. Then there’s also the issue of my attention to a project which–since I love analogies–I will liken to a very excited puppy who is running back and forth between the new toy and the food bowl and then the other toy and the bone; and his tail is wagging, and he’s panting, and he can’t decide which cool thing to do so he gets all worked up and runs around in circles chasing his tail until he finally collapses on the rug and falls asleep because all the possibilities for fun things to do are overwhelming and exhausting and–goodnight, I’m just going to lie down for a bit to calm my brain. I’m sorry, was that a run-on sentence? So is my brain all of the time. I have the energy, the will, the ideas, the passion–I often just need more focus and attention to the tedious work of getting a job done.

My sister and I converse a lot about the way our brain works because we are similarly wired when it comes to getting things done and attempting creative projects, and recently we came back to a strategy that works for us in cleaning our houses–setting a timer for 15 minutes for each room and cleaning as fast as we can in that short amount of time before moving on to a different room. I’m always surprised when I apply this strategy that I’m usually able to completely clean a room in 15 minutes when I was avoiding it because I thought it would take 45. My sister upped the ante recently though when she suggested I get a Time Timer. “You engage more visually,” she pointed out, “I bet seeing the block of time you have left would motivate you even more.”

So I bought the timer, and the verdict is…I’m obsessed. It’s immediately become the manager I’ve been needing, the puppy tamer that calls the shots– SIT DOWN AND ENJOY YOUR BONE. 15 MINUTES. READY, GO. I keep it on my counter in the kitchen and set it for 15 minutes when I have a short block of time where I can knock out some dishes. I bring it with me into my bedroom when I’ve committed to cleaning it because I’m less likely to get sidetracked looking at old diaries I found under my bed when there’s a bomb-looking clock with a red line slowly ticking toward “detonation.” And I bring it into my office and place it on my desk to help me stay focused on one thing at a time. One hour with my butt in my seat–no click bait. The visual representation of a slowly disappearing red circle on an analog clock works really well for motivating me and keeping me engaged, and learning how to efficiently use the many 20-minute pockets of time that are sprinkled throughout the day is helping me accomplish more…plus, it’s fun! I’ve even convinced the kids to jump in and help frantically clean with the fun challenge of trying to finish the job before the red disappears and the timer dings.

Do you have a brain that’s wired like mine? A list of projects you’re not getting to? What productivity tips and tools have worked for you to help you accomplish more?

 

 

The Never Used Household Items We Thought We Had to Have

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In digging through my cluttered appliance cabinet the other morning to reach the crumb-covered blender to make Dash a smoothie, I gave a little “hey there” nod to the pile of other crumb-covered appliances I thought were absolute kitchen necessities back when I was establishing myself as a homemaker, in the great homemaker-establishing ritual of creating a wedding registry. At the time, I considered toast, crackers & cheese and Ramen noodles perfectly good meals, but put a wedding registration barcode scanning gun in my hand, and suddenly I’m Martha Stewart. I need a panini maker and a fruit spiralizer and a really good bread maker because I’m going to bake bread every day. In fact, I’m going to grind my own wheat. I’m going to make my own ravioli noodles and definitely serve soup in those little mini cocottes because I’m going to be married and then I’m going to be a mom, and married moms serve soup in cocottes (no they don’t). My entire wedding registration is a perfect representation of the domestic idealism that has tripped me up sometimes, but I’m not necessarily mad about it. Domestic dreaming triggers a euphoric little burst of dopamine for me, as perusing through a Williams Sonoma catalogue will demonstrate–even if I never actually get to making that cinnamon-dusted, 3-tiered cake in the shape of a sand castle. I find comfort in the idea of my domestic possibilities.

Perhaps there’s no greater representation of my homemaker dream ridiculousness though than The Embosser. I came across it in the glossy catalogue pages for a fancy stationery company shortly after our wedding, and when I saw it I knew–screw the bread machine, The Embosser was the thing that was going to take me to a new level of Homemaker. The Embosser was a heavy silver handheld press that was custom designed with your last name initial and whatever phrase you chose to set you apart as a family; and with a simple squeeze of its handles, you could turn paper, foil labels–anything into a personalized seal. I couldn’t order it fast enough, and in my true impulsive no-time-to-think-this-through urgency, I typed the first thing I could think of for the phrase that was going to encircle our initial and represent us a family. You ready for this? LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH. What can I say, it was the year of the framed plaque, and my truths came from the aisles of Homegoods, But here’s the best part. I couldn’t even get the phrase right. I ordered it to say LAUGH, LOVE, LIVE.

So I patiently waited two weeks for The Embosser to arrive, ordering gold foil labels and making plans for all that I would emboss in the meantime. And that’s when the idea came…an epiphany I was sure was my greatest one yet.

I was going to emboss…our toilet paper. That’s right, toilet paper. I was going to learn how to fold the end of our toilet paper roll into one of those fancy little origami triangles like the Ritz Carlton, and then I was going to take it up a notch by embossing the triangle with the Hampton Homemaker seal.

Our parties would never be the same. Our guests were going to feel so pampered when they stepped into our bathroom, sat down on our toilet and reached to wipe only to pause with recognition at our hospitable detail and the oh so important reminder to LAUGH! LOVE! LIVE!

Do I really need to tell you about the result of this purchase? The sustainability of this great idea? The Embosser dream lasted all of one party when I realized that after someone used the restroom, I had to run in to refold and emboss the toilet paper again for the next guest. And that was the end of The Embosser.

I found it recently–tucked in a drawer with a stack of thank you notes I never sent and the attachment tool likely to some kitchen appliance I thought I needed but never use. There will always be a little Martha Stewart inside of me, and I’ll never stop tearing out pages of intricately braided pie crusts in her magazine for inspiration. But I know where I comfortably stand when it comes to making my house a home, and it doesn’t involve embossed toilet paper.

Do you know what my most used kitchen tools are? Two small things I never thought I’d need but use almost every day…this counter scraper and these herb scissors. There you go, wedding registry women. You’re welcome. And three things I never purchased but are still on my list…a huge dutch oven (are the LeCreuset really worth it?), a KitchenAid mixer and a cordless Dyson Animal because so many people have told me it’s life changing when it comes to keeping your car clean.

Have any household tools you thought you couldn’t live without that are now covered in dust? An unexpected household item that became your favorite thing? Do tell.

How Do You Address People who Make Fun of Intellectual Disabilities and Responding to the R-Word

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Over break, I received this message from a middle school student:

Hi! I was wondering if you had any advice for me. I’m still in middle school, and there are a lot of kids who call things autistic or make fun of kids with Down syndrome. It is NOT okay, and I wanted to know if you have any tips for how to chew them out. Thank you so much!

I wrote her back, commending her on being a leader and thinking her response through and told her I’d sit down and make a list of different ways she can respond. I’ve been asked so many times how I react when I hear someone use the word “retarded,” so I figured this was a good time to tackle that one too. Unfortunately, even though it feels like we are in a more accepting age, people still make insensitive remarks, use offensive language and indirectly make people with intellectual disabilities the brunt of their jokes All. The. Time. But it often depends on who’s saying it and what setting we are in that determines how I respond. Is it a stranger or someone I know? Did I overhear it or was it said to me? Was it meant to be unkind or does someone well meaning truly not understand how it comes across?

I can tell you this though. From the day Nella was born, I’ve bristled every time something was said. Things that used to slide past me in television shows, words that maybe didn’t catch my attention in conversations before–they don’t go unnoticed anymore. If you accidentally said the word “retarded” when I was standing by, and you wondered later if I heard it, know that I did. I always hear it. It’s the rite of passage we inherit when we enter the world of special needs and are given the golden scepter–yeah, that’s what I’m calling it–golden scepter of opportunity. We get to love these people, and then we get to educate the world about that love.

Why are these words offensive? In the case of actually making fun of people with disabilities, I think it’s a given–you’re just an asshole, and it will catch up with you. Deliberately making fun of a marginalized group of people who spend their entire lives fighting for a sliver of the opportunities, friends, jobs and attention that naturally come easy for you simply because of the physiological coincidence that, up to this point (remember, anything can change), the cells in your body and mind have functioned in a way that makes things relatively easy for you–well, that says far more about you than them, and you’ll have to carry that and deal with it throughout life.

In the case of using the word “retard” or “retarded,” I still hear people argue things like,”Oh, come on; you know I don’t mean it like that” or “God, everyone and their politically correct terminology. Relax, it’s just a word.” Let’s talk about that for a moment. The definition of retarded means “less advanced in mental, physical, or social development than is usual for one’s age.” For years (although considered archaic terminology now), it was used to medically define people with intellectual disabilities. So whether you think you’re referring to them or not when you laugh at some absent-minded thing you did and say “how retarded,” you are. And it’s not a bunch of sensitive moms (although I’m proud to be that too) asking you to be politically correct. It’s an international movement backed by hundreds of thousands of people–stop using the R-word.

I didn’t always used to speak up when I heard the R-word or insensitive references to people with intellectual disabilities because I actually worried more about the feelings of the person saying it. “They’re going to feel awful when I say something” or “They didn’t mean it; they’re going to think I’m too sensitive.” But, do you know what? I DON’T CARE ANYMORE! I do not suppress something I feel passionate enough to speak up about for fear of what someone will think about me. And it’s 2019! I give people the benefit of the doubt that they want to be informed, that they’re confident and strong and open to learn ways they can be better. I trust they can handle it. And if they can’t? If their own ego and issues with being confronted or being wrong means they snap back or don’t agree, guess what? NOT MY CIRCUS, NOT MY MONKEYS! I did my part. I used my voice.

Young people, 2019 is a good time to speak up. This new generation has impressed me in so many ways, and more than ever, young people are using their voices and making efforts to make kindness and acceptance cool–to change our culture, to advocate, to include. And it’s working. No matter what someone’s response is, I promise you, you will stand out for someone who is kind and confident and a leader when you speak up for people with intellectual disabilities and make it clear that you don’t approve of intolerant language; and you will be respected for it.

Do I still have people in my life who use the word? Yes. And they’re good people. Most of the time, it slips and they immediately stop and say, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I hate that word.” It was sloppily used in everyday language for a long time, so I understand that it takes time for people to recognize how insensitive it is. Usually, if it’s a friend, I just smile and interject, “Can’t use that word, but go on–what were you saying?” And it works. We have had people we love continue to use it–people who I know are good and loving and care deeply about Nella, yet the word is still thrown around–“I felt so retarded”–like it’s no big deal. Keep speaking up though. Recently I had a deeper conversation about it with a friend who I finally interrupted.

“Can I tell you something?” I said. “You use that word a lot. And I know we’ve talked about it, and I know you say you don’t mean it to make fun. But I’m worried about the day that Nella gets old enough to understand it–and she will; I know she will. She’s going to be confused how someone she loves so much uses that word when she knows it’s hurtful to people like her. I don’t know how I’m going to explain that to her.” There were tears, and a long hug and a “Thank you for continuing to tell me. Thank you for giving me another chance to stop. I don’t ever want to hurt Nella. If you hear me say it again, say something.”

My sister was at a nice restaurant recently and overheard a table of diners use the word several times while they were enjoying their meal. As she was leaving, she walked over to the table and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I know you probably meant well, but I couldn’t help but hear the word “retard” used several times. I hear it a mile away. I have a niece with Down syndrome, and it kills me when people use that word as a joke. I just wanted to say something.” One of the men apologized and said he completely understood, one of the wives shooed her away with “Okay thanks, you can leave now,” but I bet they’ll remember the encounter. At least next time they go to drop the R-word, they’ll think about the woman in the restaurant who loved her niece.

All that said, I think it’s helpful to have prepared scripts when you’re advocating. Sometimes we don’t say anything simply because we can’t think of what to say. So I’m giving you some things to say today–a whole repertoire of responses for when you hear someone use the R-word or casually joke about people with intellectual disabilities. Whether it’s a friend or a stranger, said with intention or thrown out in ignorance–address it. Gently, firmly, seriously, with explanation or without. But please, say something. 

Here are a number of ways to address it:

  1. “I know what kind of person you are and I’ve seen how much you care about people, so I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone. But jokingly using the word “retarded” to refer to your lapse of thinking is so hurtful to people with intellectual disabilities.”
  2. “Dude. It’s 2019, and that word is archaic and offensive. Get a dictionary and find another word.”
  3. “I made a promise to myself to speak up every time I hear that word used. I used to use it too until I realized how offensive it is. Please find a different way to phrase that.”
  4. “Hey, you’re better than what you just said. Maybe don’t make amazing people who work so hard and struggle with being accepted the brunt of your jokes. You’re too good to sink so low.”
  5. “Can I ask you something? Do you know anyone who’s autistic or has Down syndrome? Because if you did, I don’t think you’d joke like that. I have a friend who has an intellectual disability, and he’s really amazing. He doesn’t deserve to be the brunt of jokes.”
  6. “Friends don’t let friends use the R-word, so I’m stopping you right here.”
  7. “Choose a different word.”
  8. “Volunteer with me at one event for people with special needs, and I dare you to talk like that again. They could teach you a few things. You will love them.”
  9. “You sound really ignorant when you say things like that, and I know you’re not. Raise the bar, dude.”
  10. “Have you been living under a rock? We don’t use that word anymore.”
  11. “It surprises me that you’d use that word. You’re always so sensitive about the language you use.”
  12. “Would you say that live on camera if you knew people were going to hear it and judge who you are by it?”
  13. “People with intellectual disabilities have enough challenges they have to face in life to be accepted. Being the brunt of your jokes shouldn’t be one of them.”

Addendum: I forgot one my friend Liz uses when friends forget and say it. She tells them that anyone who uses the R-word has to run a naked lap around her house. Game changer. I’m just sayin.

For me, it’s easy to address because I have a child with an intellectual disability who is my heart. It is easy to explain to people how much I love her and how much it would kill me to watch her hear that word, knowing it’s been used for years as a joke with an underlying punchline that says that an intellectual disability makes you lower than everyone else. Because that’s exactly what you’re saying when you use the R-word or make intellectual disabilities a laughing matter. Because of that, it is easy for me to advocate. To speak up over and over and over. And I only hope that all of you have the privilege of loving someone like Nella too.