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The Joy Thief

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

I’m usually grossed out by blog posts that start with a quote, so I’ll apologize before I’m even out of the gate here. I can’t help it on this one; I saw this quote on Pinterest awhile back and it stuck with me. I’m dusting it off this week because I need it. There’s some debate as to whether it was said by Theodore Roosevelt or a writer named Dwight Edwards . . . but it doesn’t really matter who said it.

Either way, it’s smart.

I’m going to something called an “un-conference” this weekend. This particular un-conference is called Awesome Camp, and basically, I get the opportunity to sit through a bunch of 30 minute presentations from people who are passionate about what they do. It’s called an un-conference because the speaker schedule isn’t actually set until everyone signs up that morning.

I went last year and found it to be a spectacular experience. I learned about everything from Green Smoothies to Twitter’s use as an important political tool . . . and I walked away filled with the excitement that only comes from hanging out with a giant group of passionate people.
The thing about events like this, though, is that I start listening to the bitchy little voice in the back of my brain named Comparison. When surrounded by a big group of successful people, Comparison starts doing what she does best. Feeling crappy about herself because of other people’s success, or getting just plain snarky.

The other thing is that this conference is local. It’s in Lincoln. The people here are no different than me. A good chunk of the women presenting things are stay-at-home-moms, and a few even have the same college degrees as me. For some reason, Comparison thinks I need to be just as put-together/financially successful/locally famous as the other people there.

Then Comparison gets snarky. Whether it’s because she’s admittedly a little bit jealous, or just plain thinks someone’s boots are stupid, she’s fully capable of creating some nasty thoughts.

Now that I know what to expect of both Awesome Camp and myself this year, I’ve got a short list of things to keep in mind, so that hopefully Comparison won’t even be hopping into the car with me this weekend.

First of all, the sole purpose of my going to this conference is for inspiration and re-energizing. I’m in kind of a mid-winter rut, and I need a good “spirit-refresher” to remind me of why I do what I do.

Secondly, I am not any of those other people. What they are doing is right for them, and what I am doing is right for me. If those people have some great ideas, then I will sure as hell use them (in a completely non-plagiarizing way), and I will be grateful that they showed up.

Thirdly, just because I don’t value something doesn’t mean it’s stupid. I may personally think that “working in Fashion” is ridiculous, but other people don’t, so I should just shut up and learn what I can from them.

Comparison really is the thief of joy. There are so many things that should be truly enjoyed to the fullest (parenting, exercise, karaoke) that lose a little bit of magic the second you start comparing yourself to other people. I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this, so if you’ve got some more tips at shutting up your inner Comparison, I’d love to hear them.

I am determined to slap some duct tape over Comparison’s mouth and stuff her in the closet this weekend . . . and Charlie doesn’t have doorknobs quite figured out yet, so I think she’ll stay put.

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Your Monthly Male on Manly Body Image

Being a woman, the words “body image” and “self-esteem” have been part of my vocabulary for a long time. Since most of the world’s focus, when it comes to these things, is on women, I found myself wondering how guys feel about it. Good thing we’ve got our Monthly Male, right?

If you’re like me, more often than not, you look…ok. Not stunning, not trashy; just somewhere in the comfortable realm of “That dude takes decent care of himself and dresses fine, but is nothing to write home about in the looks department.” …and I’m perfectly ok with that. My sense of ego is not wrapped up in how outwardly attractive I am.

I would be lying, though, if I said I didn’t put some value and some effort on the way I look, and the reason for that is very simple: A large part of my self-worth is based on what other people think of me. Not all of it, to be sure. I’m secure and comfortable enough in myself that I don’t require constant validation from others, but I am aware that perception matters, so I try to present myself accordingly.

Like many of you, I went through the phase where I convinced myself that I didn’t care what people think. “I’m my own person, and I’m going to do what I like, dress how I like, and act how I want!” This was clearly a lie, and in recent years I’ve come to realize how importantperception truly is. This doesn’t mean that I pattern my look and behavior on what I perceive to be the social norm, but I am at least aware that what I project out to the public is a huge part of my identity.

Lauren asked me to write about how I, as a card-carrying guy, deal with body image and self-esteem issues. While I haven’t covered that specifically, what I’ve described is pretty much what I think about it. Am I ripped out of my mind, with cut muscle definition, six-pack abs, straight white teeth and a perfect hair cut? Hell no. Am I ever going to be? Absolutely not. Am I ok with that? Totally.

However, are there times when I look at myself in the mirror and think, “Wow…that is NOTok.”? Definitely. Example: A few summers ago, two of my sisters were 4-6 months pregnant. Even though I was not with child, all three of us matched in the body shape department. That wasn’t enough of a kick in the gut to persuade me to join a gym or go on a crash diet, but I did start do a lot of walking, struggled through some pushups, and ate less bacon…because it is important to me what I look like.

I did think it was interesting how my desire to look presentable changed when I was in a relationship. When I was/am single, one of my goals is, naturally, to find a girlfriend and/or hook-up, so I want to look at least reasonably desirable to women. When I was engaged, though, it completely changed. I didn’t “let myself go” or anything like that, but here’s the deal: My ex-fiancee is very attractive, and I wanted HER to have a good-looking fiance too, so I put just as much effort (and often more effort!) into how I looked as when I was single, just so I could feel a little more in her league. (…so we’re clear, this was not a reaction to anything she ever said or insinuated…just me and my own neurosis)

The moral of the story, I suppose, is that I do put effort into how I look, because I do care about what people think of me, and I think everybody, both male and female, feels the same way, albeit to different degrees, and about different things. Some guys spend a lot of time gelling their hair just right while others make sure to have the perfect clothes. As for me, I just don’t want to look like a fat, lazy, out-of-touch slob. My sense of self-worth is wrapped up in different qualities, and while I want people to think that I’m decent-looking and ok-dressed, there are other, more important things that I want to exude: Intelligence, humor, comfort, logic, open-mindedness…these are the things that I value in myself, and the qualities that I want family, friends, and strangers to associate with me.

Make no mistake, though, I do enjoy those days when I see myself in the mirror and think, “You know, I really AM a pretty dashing fellow!” (Well, at least I would think that if I had grown up British) …and like anybody else, I like it when other people compliment how I look. Of course, my guy friends aren’t going to say, “Oh my GOSH, Paul, that new sweater is great!” or “Paul, your hair looks so CUTE tonight!” Full disclosure: my new sweater IS great, and my hair looks fantastic (and is way softer than yours!), so I don’t need the accolades of my troglodyte friends!

Ok, got a little distracted there. Yes, I like to look good, and yes, I like the attention that comes with it. Don’t we all? But that is not the end-all be-all of my existence. There are much more important things for me to be worried about.

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Food Coloring + Bath = Awesome

Blogging’s going to be light around here for the next couple of weeks, friends.

I got a nice side-job helping a friend do some editing, and it’s actually got a deadline. Since my work time is mostly limited to naptime, I figure that if I’m hanging out on the computer, it should probably be for that.

I figured this would be the perfect opportunity for a toddler activity.

This one was super fun, and all it took was some food coloring and a bathtub. CharlieLOVES to pour water. He’s been known to sit and pour a cupful of water from one container to another for almost 30 minutes, in fact. So, I thought it might be fun to add some color.

I actually didn’t get the idea from Play at Home Mom this time, but I didn’t want to check the site because I was too proud of myself to burst my own bubble.
Something that PAHM talks about is making a “play invitation.” This is where they set up the activity before the child has any idea what their plans are, and just let the kid discover it. I thought I’d try that this time, and Charlie’s reaction was pretty fun. He walked into the bathroom, saw the cups of water, pointed at them, looked at me, then said, “Ohhhh, no! Gulldigulldigull!” (This is a very common phrase for him. “Digull” sounds like “tickle,” and most of the time it means he’s happy 🙂 )

Anyway, enough talking. I highly recommend this one; it’s fun, and your kid will surely want you to keep refilling his containers with more colored water, so you can easily keep the bathwater warm!

Play invitation.

It was pretty cool, even for me, to watch the color disperse in the water.

A box of food-coloring isn’t too expensive, and I’ve been getting a lot of use out of the one we bought . . . which means I’ve got more pictures and activities coming sometime soon!

For those of you who couldn’t care less about kids’ activities . . . I promise I’ll be back with more adult-friendly content in a few weeks!

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What Costs an Arm and a Leg… and is Totally Worth It?

. . .Gymboree.

I’m serious when I say that it’s expensive. I mean. . . for a young couple like us, just getting started on a good career-path. . . and not having a lot of money. . . It’s expensive. In the spirit of blogging honestly, I’m not going to beat around the bush; it costs $65 a month.

That being said, I think it’s one of the greatest things we’ve done for Charlie in a long time.

A few weeks back, my friend Erin invited Charlie and I to join her and her adorable daughter at a Gymboree class. I said yes.

And I’m not going to lie, I proceeded to totally freak myself out about it. Charlie and I are home by ourselves most of the time. I’ve got mom-friends. . . but none of them have kids that are Charlie’s age. If they’re older, they think, “Seriously, why doesn’t this kid understand sharing!?” and if they’re younger, they think, “Seriously, why is this kid taking my stuff and smacking me around?”

So, whenever we get invited to social events, I get neurotic. I had a vision in my head of a group of moms with their quiet, well-behaved children in their laps, singing songs and playing patty-cake. While that may have been nice for Charlie, say, 12 months ago, it’s definitely not his scene right now.

But we went, and when I walked in the door and saw the play-safe, indoor-wonderland of Gymboree, I almost cried. I had no idea what the actual class was going to be like, but I immediately felt better.

Charlie saw another kid go in through the double doors (which, by the way, lock so that munchkins can’t escape) and flew in after him. The woman at the desk asked if his shoes were still on, I said yes, and she laughed and told me she’d go get his shoes while I filled out the sign-in sheet.

She laughed. She didn’t turn her nose up at me and say, “Can’t you control your child, woman?” She good-naturedly took after my kid and removed his shoes so he could play freely.

The class was perfect. A teacher sang songs and tried to get all the kids to come with their “grown-ups” to the mat. After welcome songs were over, the teacher got out “big and little balls” and placed them all around the play-area. She would say things like, “Charlie, can you roll the BIG ball down the LITTLE slide?”

As a side note, this first class we tried was a “level 4.” Charlie’s now in the “level 5” age group, where they focus more on imagination (pretending to be bears, etc…).

What really, truly eased my Mommy-soul, however, is the fact that they have no interest inforcing kids to participate. This meant that Charlie could frolic about as he pleased, but ended up joining in the activities when he saw the other kids having fun.

The part that Charlie likes the best is Parachute Time.

This is when the teacher lays out a big parachute, turns on the appropriate “bubble music,” and starts blowing millions of tiny little bubbles. Charlie gleefully hops about, popping bubbles, shouting, “Bah! Bah!”

“Bah bah,” in case you were wondering, means, “pop pop.”

After the bubble song is over, the kids get to sit on the parachute and chill while the parents turn it in circles. This may not sound all that exciting, but Charlie totally digs it.

Here’s the thing: Charlie is getting structured play with a recurring set of kids that he is becoming familiar with. He’s starting to understand that he can’t simply have whatever he wants right at that moment, because other kids need to play with things, too.

This doesn’t mean he’s a sharing expert. At all. But it does mean that he’s discovering the existence of this “sharing phenomenon,” and I think he’s going to get the hang of it much sooner than he would have otherwise.

He actually gave a little girl a ball that he was obviously attached to, and he even said “Thank you,” (“deh dooh”) after she gave it back.

That, friends, is fairly miraculous.

So, for us so far, the price is worth it. Members also have access to “open gym,” where the kids can run about freely and listen to kid-music while parents hang out with them and enjoy the safe and contained toddler fun.

If you’ve got a Gymboree in your area, you should definitely call them up and schedule a free trial class. Even if it’s too expensive for you, the free trial is a good experience and gives you something to think about for the future.

What about you guys? Would you shell out that much money for something like this?