Tag: ownership

challenges, perspective, Uncategorized

Growth

2chicksandapen

I’ve been thinking a lot of growth lately. Not physically growing like increasing my waist size. I’m thinking more like overall development in multiple areas of life.

Trying new foods for example. Over the past few months I’ve been wanting to increase my daily protein intake. I’ve dialed into various resources to get some hints and best practices. A few takeaways to share:

Compounding protein. Find what you like and increase the dosage. 3 ounces of ham? Just double it. Yogurt, double it. Maybe find a sugar-free Greek version you like. Maybe even a yogurt drink. Mix it up if you can. For me this was a growth area, learning new ways to meet my protein objective for the day.

Aging. Not always a fun topic to discuss for folks my age as there are many trials and tribulations associated with those around the 50-year-old mark. However, I’ve been learning new things. I’ve learned to enjoy road tripping in a RV which is in itself a skill to master. Then I flip the switch to my youngest child who is turning 18. The growth going into adulthood is so much different yet full of learning opportunities for both the parent and the soon-to-be adult. New jobs. Legal responsibilities. Taxes. Higher education. Bills. The list goes on and on. 

New environments. This summer I opted to play a new sport: pickleball. Never played before. Never watched a match in person or on TV. I fell in love with the concept of learning. Meeting new people. Stepping into a new arena of sorts. Challenging myself to be better. To learn new methods. To learn the lingo. All in all it was a great experience socially, physically, and cognitively.

Attire: we all have our basic go-to items. The favorite jeans. The sweats. The leggings. The favorite shirt. In the past few months I opted for a short in a color I absolutely never wear. I chose a couple of button-up shirts that are really not my style but definitely fun to wear on occasion. I mixed up a stable go-to outfit with something new and some old to change up the look a little. These little modifications represented growth to me. Oddly different growth than many may celebrate but for me it was growth in my own way.

Patience: mastering and remastering my patience muscles. This is serious growth. Dealing with kids who keep coming back for x, y, and z requires patience and patience on steroids sometimes. Adjusting to work / life balances as you hit the empty nester milestone. The golden years. The muscles that need flexing dealing with changes in partners / spouses or other complicated family dynamics. As we age we must undergo a serious re-haul of our patience muscles, more than once.

As a reflection person, I like to celebrate moments like these. Small as they may be to some, they were valuable enough for me to share on here. With that being said I challenge you to self-reflect and think about your own growth.

Have you challenged yourself to climb a new mountain?

Have you decided to take a trip of a lifetime to a new destination?

Have you decided to take a leap of faith and try something new?

Have you been thinking about betting on yourself? Go for it! You will never grow if you stay stagnant. You will miss opportunity after opportunity. Don’t just put a toe in the sand. Run into the ocean and get wet. Get wet in life. That’s when you grow!

nature, working women

The Old Barn

2chicksandapen

This old barn sits on a property I frequent. It is old and dumpy to say the least. However I love taking pictures of this old barn. Whether I choose natural light, black and white or some variation thereof, I am happy. Each view is special. Each moment captured tells a story.

Sun rising. Sun setting. Fall or spring. Each season and each time of day makes it look a little different. I don’t know what year it was built and I definitely don’t know of its history. I can tell animals were fed there at some point due to the feeding troughs inside, but that’s about it.

The barn’s aged wood makes for a great photo backdrop. The unfinished look is all the rage for photographers. This still shot is just from my camera roll but it still shows the beauty of its imperfections up close. Even the weeds off to the side add character.

This angle shows the door up close. Once practical but now ornamental. Again a beautiful backdrop but yet so different the the previous shots. Somebody’s junk is always another’s treasure. For this barn is junk to many but it’s a hidden treasure to me.

The silver tone above again highlights the barn a little different. Just the angle makes the size and shape seem a little different. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and this little dumpy barn is just a little happy spot for me. I can sit by with my old truck and think about what it once was. I can drift by it while doing my lawn trimming and sigh that it’s all mine.

Not sure how many heavy wind storms it will hold up against but for now I’m enjoying the sight of it. One day I might just have the photos. Time will tell. Just a girl and her red barn story today.

business, challenges

Good Help?

2chicksandapen

How hard is it to find good help these days? For me the answer is: it’s pretty hard. Nobody wants to really work hard to prove their worth. They just want to get a hand out or slide by or just mooch off others.

I’m fascinated by this subject. Recently I had a need for a laborer. The pay was good and there were not many expectations. Well the basics of work hard, neat appearance, adhere to safety rules and be okay with physical labor. Now mind you, I’m a woman and met the qualifications and was capable of doing the work yet I was looking to provide an opportunity to another.

No takers. Tired from a trip I heard from more than one prospect. No answer from a couple, as in no interest. Too long of a drive for another. Have to get off by x for another. So many reasons that were just excuses of sorts. I’d rather hear no thanks I’ll pass rather than the lame excuses folks make up.

I’ll also remember the opportunity offer for when one asks for support. I’ll share “I offered it but you had to work for it.” Funny the tune will be different then. I’d like to play the recording of their voices when they cry poor me later. I work hard for everything I have. I almost never pass up an opportunity unless it just doesn’t make sense. I see so many now hiring signs but how many actually want to work?

I hustle but stay humble. I was taught a great work ethic. I honestly feel today’s younger workers expect more to do less and if anything extra is ever asked the answer is a fast NO. Many seem to lack foresight or are incapable of the big picture thinking limiting their long-term potential or this is how I see things today.

I can’t recall a time where I ever felt this way pre-pandemic. There used to be kids hustling to mow lawns or do other odd jobs. Today I just don’t see it. Maybe it’s just my environment. Maybe not. Just a ponder post of sorts.

I’m choosing to end this post on a positive with a photo of a fresh spring bloom from the family farm. Enjoy.

dare to be different

Let Your Freak Flag Fly

2chicksandapen

I love a theme.

And I love that I have friends that will embrace a theme.

For birthdays, Christmas parties, the CrossFit Open, or just a February Saturday, we choose a theme and run with it. 80s, Superheroes, Country, 70s, Retro Fitness, Fancy Tea Party, College Colors, ‘Merica, Roaring 20s, 80s Prom, themes make it fun, at least for me. They let my imagination run out to play.

When I first started CrossFit, I was a capri and very long flowy 2XL tank top kind of girl. I tried to hide in plain sight. I wouldn’t wear shorts at all. Now I’m all about patterned booty / bicycle shorts, even in the dead of winter. I like some color, I like some spice. They make me smile. My friends at the gym inspired me to just wear them, be comfortable, and have fun. I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. If you’re offended, look elsewhere!

Do I get looks when I go to the grocery store wearing my mermaid shorts and open-back tank? Yup. But, what other people think of me is none of my business. This is a huge mindset shift for me.

Same goes for our theme parties. When it was time for roaring 20s night, I tried on so many flapper dresses and none of them felt right. So I dragged out my high school drum major uniform. We did a Cole Porter show way back in 1995 and I wore a pinstriped zoot suit with paisley suspenders. Miraculously it fit, so in a sea of flapper dresses I was the woman in a suit. I held my breath when I walked in to the restaurant, wondering what other people would think when they saw me. Then I walked through the tables and realized it didn’t matter. How did I feel? Honestly, under the nerves I felt kinda sassy, a little fresh, and way more comfortable than in a dress. Now I embrace being different in situations like this.

The other night at a birthday party our theme was retro sports / fitness. We were going out to play a physical and competitive game. Most of us are CrossFit folks, so we all have our share of fitness wear. But retro…hm. Then conversations led to “athletes vs. mathletes” (and I clearly fall into the latter category.) As with many themes, I just like to have fun with them. Thinking of the 70s and bright colors, I picked some rainbow sweatbands, white shorts with rainbow trim, and a retro NASA shirt (for the mathlete) with a rainbow background. Oh yeah, and tube socks. Did I look silly? Yes. Did I fit the theme? Yes. I felt eyes on me in the restaurant but after my initial self-consciousness I didn’t really care. Yes, I realize that some people identify rainbows with the LGBTQIA community. I am an ally and have no fear of being seen or known that way. And again, what other people think of me is their business. I honestly do not care. Let em look! Let em think whatever! Moving on!

It brought back memories…I had a wild streak in high school and college that eventually faded away under piles and pounds of conformity and conservatism. Only in the past handful of years have I started to embrace my individuality again. My personality and identity not just in relation to others…as a mom, as a daughter, as a spouse…instead, really just my personality within myself. Who I am. Me.

I ran around and looked silly. I had fun and embraced my goofy side. I was just in the moment, letting my freak flag fly! Thankfully I have friends who join me in that.

Be who you are! As unconventional and unique as that might be. Be yourself out loud! You never know who is watching and feeling encouraged, emboldened, even a little less alone. Someone in your circle may be buried under the weight of other people’s expectations. Hiding their light. You never know who is inspired by you embracing who you are. Many don’t have that courage or are looking for it.

Let your freak flag fly!

perspective

Doctor Doctor

2chicksandapen

A not-so-well-known fact about me: I’m a doctor. No, not the kind of doctor that prescribes medications or carries a stethoscope. I’m a doctor of the mind – a PhD. Earned in 2012 in Language and Literacy Education from the University of Georgia (Go Dawgs!)

Why do I bring this up? Recently I read an op-ed and surrounding arguments about our incoming First Lady, Dr. Jill Biden, and whether or not she should own her “Dr.” title. The author raised all kinds of small-minded reasons why she should drop the Dr. title, even calling her “kiddo” at one point, as if her using the title she earned was childish and deserved a patronizing pat on the head. The arguments he made only showed his own shallow thinking and aren’t even worth reviewing here. Still all this made me mad, and also made me reflect on my own title.

I’m not going to bother to defend the work it took to earn my title. Six years, countless courses, teaching, publications, awards, etc. I have an obnoxiously long academic vita that does that. In some ways the PhD is a measure of stubbornness and I earned that through and through. I also won’t argue that all Dr. titles are worth the same. Especially now, when we see even more brightly how health care is heroism, I can’t even begin to equate what I have with what they can do.

What my PhD shows is that I have learned how to think. I have learned how to collect data, analyze it, theorize it, and write about it at length. When I earned that title, I knew that it was one of the few things no one could take away from me. I am one of the two “Drs.” in my building. Maybe it won’t surprise you that a school actually makes a big deal about a doctorate. Yes, my kindergarteners call me Dr. Friese. (Sometimes, with a wink at Southern custom, they call me “Miss Dr. Friese.”) For a while I wondered if the students should use my title or if it really mattered, but now I think it’s good for students to see that thinking is valuable in all areas of life. If they love that kind of advanced-level thinking and intellectual work / play, it can be pursued in countless contexts. Doctoring isn’t just in an office or hospital. We don’t all wear scrubs (and special props to those who do!) The more people see different possibilities, especially kids, the better.

On the flip side, Dr. has its downsides. I can be a total snob about things. I can’t unsee typos on a professional document. I ask too many questions at times, which can lead to the “analysis paralysis,” or being so stuck in overthinking I don’t get anything done. (I’m trying to remedy this with my OLW this year: DO!)

I also know that titles aren’t everything. Several people I know are much smarter than me learning from the school of hard knocks or lessons from in the trenches. I’ll be the first to argue that my classroom smarts doesn’t always help me “in the streets.” I embody the absentminded professor stereotype in many areas of life. Many will make a better living and a happier life taking paths that don’t necessarily lead to titles, certifications, or initials. So a Dr. isn’t everything, but it is something and it was the right challenge for me. Whether it’s initials or just more digits in your bank account, I’ll honor what you have earned.

What bothers me most about how this writer treated Dr. Biden is the tone and the underlying sexism of it all. As if being First Lady should make anything else she does or has done take a back seat. As if prioritizing her work as a highly educated educator is sort of laughable. As if the title conferred by marriage is the one she should favor over the one she earned for thinking, writing, and persisting. How many times have I gotten mail directed to Dr. and Mrs. instead of Mr. and Dr. or even Dr. and Mr.? Why does doctoring default to men? Why should women minimize what they earned when it takes nothing from anyone else? Sometimes I even minimize what I have earned myself, if I let the opinions of others invade my mind and erode my confidence.

When I taught at UGA, my students called me Beth. It was a personal choice and I had my reasons. These days, if someone calls me Mrs. Friese at work, I don’t correct them but my bosses often will if they hear it. Although my interests have taken me elsewhere, all this has revived my thinking about that title, what it means, and what it’s worth. Some might say I don’t use my doctorate, but in many ways I use it daily. I think. I write. I argue. I reason. I plan. I observe. I analyze. Every. Single. Day.

So yes, you may call me doctor. If you don’t, it doesn’t change who I am or what I’ve earned. In the mean time, I won’t waste energy worrying about what you think of me or my title. I’ve got too much to plan and DO to fret over small-minded guys.