Julie Pippert: Using My Words

On a Monday years ago I walked into the office at 8 a.m. like I did every day of the work week. Never mind how many years or which office because it doesn't really matter; it could be any office at almost any time in the last 20 years for almost anyone. I dropped my things at my desk, and shuffled to the break room for a cup of coffee. This is how we always started our days, especially Mondays, when you needed to ease back into the work "family" and work frame of mind. Everyone gathered near the coffeepot, always standing, never sitting, that way, if the boss walked in, you could pretend you'd only been there for a minute, just getting a cup of joe, not gabbing over cup number two 10 minutes later. That morning I walked in and two male colleagues were standing in front of the pot. They were, as usual, speaking in numbers, which meant sports. Then they said stroke, and I knew they meant golf. I didn't give it a second thought. As usual I had to walk up, pause and h...

When Patience was a baby, her colic didn't end at three months like everyone promised it would. My mother and sister, both more experienced at mothering than I, insisted I ask about reflux, again, despite my doctor's continual waving of her hand dismissively. I finally got the doctor to listen and we did get a reflux diagnosis. Ah blessed quiet, blessed sleep. Unfortunately it took over six months and by then we were half delusional from stress and exhaustion. But never once did I question medical intervention because something was wrong and that created a quality of life problem, therefore it needed to be fixed . I watched a friend from playgroup get a patch for a lazy eye for her child, another get glasses for her toddler, another baby needed a helmet for a skull not growing correctly, that baby needed surgery to correct a hernia, this toddler was getting tested for developmental delays...from birth, we learn of human imperfection. Here, in our culture, we don't rely on s...

Her name is Lakshmi Tatma and she was born in October during the festival for the Hindu goddess Lakshmi. The night before she was born, her mother dreamt of the goddess, who represents prosperity and wealth (worldly and spiritual). She believed it was a sign that her soon-to-be-born child would bring good fortune. The Tatma family looked forward to good fortune. The rural area of the Indian Behar province where they live is a largely poor region with little access to things we take for granted, such as medical care, stores, and other modern conveniences. Life there is, as National Geographic said, ". . .untouched by the 21st Century." Due to the poverty and lack of medical care, infants often die or, if sickly or deformed, are sometimes left in fields to die. This might have been Lakshmi's fate, because she was born with four arms and four legs---the result of an undeveloped parasitic twin. Her mother was so shocked to see her new daughter that she fainted, but I got the ...

Photo of Hugh Grant and Nicholas Hoult in About a Boy from allmoviephotos.com and Universal Pictures. BADLY DRAWN BOY "Walking Out Of Stride" You and me we could never hide Too busy walking out of stride You and me could never hide Too busy walking out of stride Take 1,2,3 then 4 or 5 People talking keeps us alive You and me could never hide Too busy walking out of stride Take 1,2,3 then 4 or 5 People talking keeps us alive What does it mean to you: walking out of stride? Does it mean at cross-purposes with yourself, or is it more of a cross-purposes with the norm, with general expectations? Is it a light issue or a deep one? Do you embrace walking out of stride? Endeavor to stand out? Or are you more the type of person who does your best to keep pace, remain part of the anonymous crowd? It's said that the desire to stand out from the crowd is innate. When I researched this, I found just as much written about the other side of the coin: the fear of standing out is innate...

Today I am listening to the words of others. Yours. And these. 1. " Social comparison and body image: attractiveness comparisons to models and peers among adolescent girls and boys " (Statistical Data Included) Sex Roles: A Journal of Research , Nov, 2001 by Diane Carlson Jones The empirical relationship between social comparison and body image has been evaluated among college students, primarily for women. The general finding has been that females who have reported more appearance-related social comparisons have been more likely to be dissatisfied with their body images (Faith, Leone, & Allison, 1997; Stormer & Thompson, 1996; Thompson, Coovert, & Stormer, 1999). The linkage between social comparison and negative body image may be enhanced in the research because the targets of the appearance comparisons have frequently been models and celebrities presented in the media (Botta, 1999; Taylor et al., 1998). Media images of thin females and muscular males represen...

Yesterday it was a sunny and hot 85 degrees here.* We spent a great deal of time outdoors, including a family outing to a popular local restaurant with a shaded patio that surrounds a playground for kids. Alert-eyed parents scouted for available tables and staked claims to tables clearing out. In most cases, the dads were sent ahead and they did a good job of staking claims rather genially. One dad approached the table next to us and began to move in when another dad popped up and said, "Oh you know, we were going to sit here," the first dad hesitated for a second---should he challenge? He had to weigh: disappoint his approaching wife who told him to get. that. table. now! or follow his instincts to move on---then he said, "Right, sure, sorry," and began to move away. The second dad, his territory respected, said, "Well maybe we can split the two tables, if your family doesn't mind being tight? How many do you have?" The dads proceeded to negotiate the...

Image source and story of image: National Galleries of Scotland If you were to ask me, I'd tell you that I tend to say things other people dare not say. I speak my mind. I don't always coat my words with a generous dollop of ass kissing. Many people consider averted eyes, swallowed words, and sugar coating their due. Skipping this is perceived as disrespectful. It never quite got me to bite my tongue, though, even at times I perhaps should have. I was bold, arrogant, and defensive about this, as the youth often are about their immaturity. But as I entered my mid-thirties and beyond, I began noticing a disturbing pattern: a tendency to swallow my words and sugarcoat. Was this maturity? Wisdom? Or was it a desire to please? Was I tired and worn down? I sat down and looked backwards--- Russo-style , through the opposite end of the telescope---and tried to figure out if I'd ever been as bold out loud as I was in my mind. Was I? Had I been? Could I be? Should I? I believe I was...

How my children dress is extremely reflective of their personalities. They choose what they will wear and dress themselves, my girls. They both started this by two. They are quite insistent about it, actually. I think children need some power and control in their world, and why not over the things they wear? Other people---moms mainly---have debated this point fiercely with me. The main counterpoint is that the moms feel it is no favor to the child to let her go about looking like a ragamuffin or freak. I hear that point, I do. But. I'm not sold on this. In the past, I have definitely thought my point---if you can't dress up and dress how you like at 2, 3, 4 then when can you? let's indulge the littlest kids---weighed more than the rest. So what if Patience sometimes felt like being a cat, and thus wore a cat tail with her clothes, and only spoke in meows? But now, at school age, the small doubts that had been creeping in---the worry that maybe those moms, who seem to be th...

I began this post here , but hadn't completed all my thoughts or gathered up my full courage to post something this honest and revealing. I decided to create a new post instead of edit and add. But there are a couple of comments in the post below this one, the first post , and I don't want that to get lost. So read here, then scroll down, and check that out. Sorry for any confusion or chaos. In the mid-1990s, my husband and I had been married a couple of years. We both had good jobs that we liked, our house was just the right size, and all in all, we had a rich and wonderful life. The only thing we lacked were our old friends. When my husband and I began dating, a lot of people were Not Happy About It. Without dwelling too deeply on it, we took a lot of flack. I only need one finger to count the number of friends who were genuinely happy for us. I only need one hand to count the number of friends who sucked up their own agendas and were nice, good friends, anyway. I clung fier...

This past Saturday, I posted about silver and gold, old friends and new, for the blog exchange. I added that post here , as well, because it's relevant to this topic. But it's really just the tip of the iceberg. The rest of my ideas aren't fully formed yet and anyway...I have to put nose to grindstone this morning for a while. However, I wanted to get the links up, and hopefully, I'll be able to get back to this and instead of an explanatory paragraph, I'll have a real post. Bear with me. :) And if you don't mind a little clicking, click here and read the post I did manage to write. For now, a blast of the old. The Reivers singing "Over and Over" from their 1990 (?) 1991 (?) album, Pop Beloved. It will make sense...later. And...other people who got their acts together for the topic today (Making new friends and keeping the old...or, something we need to learn again and again.): Copyright 2007 Julie Pippert Also blogging at: Using My Words Julie Pipper...

Made by Andrea Micheloni Not too long ago I read What's in a name? by Veronica Mitchell. She'd read the NPR/USA Today article, Blame it on your name , that shared new research results: "a preference for our own names and initials — the 'name-letter effect' — can have some negative consequences." Veronica's post and that article got me thinking about names, and their importance. Changing to my husband’s name and shedding my maiden name was no love lost for me. By the time we married, I’d have gladly married any other name just for a change. My maiden name was a trial; I was sick of spelling it, pronouncing it, explaining it, and dealing with the thoughtless rude comments about it. My sister and I dreamed and planned for the day we could shed that name. So I wonder, sometimes, whether I adequately considered what a name change would actually mean. Heritage and genealogy matter to me and my maiden name reflected a great deal of familial history. History I ...