You Can't Always Get What You Want

I really didn't mean to do a series of life lessons on my blog, but they just keep coming!

Last week I found myself singing the Rolling Stones song -

You can't always get what you want

 But if you try sometimes you just might find 

You get what you need.

Like many women, I was REALLY excited about the Lilly Pulitzer for Target collection. It was released on April 19, at 8 a.m. in the stores, and earlier that morning online.  The prices were insanely good. A Lilly dress usually costs between  $150-$300, and the Target collection dresses were only $38.

I'm sure most of you know what happened. The stores sold out within the first hour (if not faster) and the online collection sold out within a few hours, too, leaving a lot of people very disappointed.

So what happened? One, Target only sent two or three of each size for each item to the store (obviously, this was not enough by a long shot). Two, people were buying everything they could get their hands on, so the majority of the stock went to the first few people in line (carts full of clothing of every size, not just their own size). Three, some of those people weren't buying for themselves, their friends or their family. They were buying to sell items at a huge markup on EBay or other auction sites (unless you really think that person was going to use or gift all ten sets of coffee cups).

I managed to come home with one item. And it wasn't even something I wanted originally.

But then humanity redeemed itself, somewhat, as groups popped up on Facebook for people who wanted to sell or trade their Lilly items at or close to retail price. Friends offered to let me try on what didn't work for them before they returned it. I now have another top and a pair of shorts that I am happy with.

But still, I felt (and still feel) cheated. Some of that is because I didn't even get the chance to try on the things I liked in my size. Who knows if I would have liked them or not, but I didn't even get the chance to try them!

But the other reason is that I wanted it all, and I didn't get it all. Hence, the Rolling Stones song rolling through my head.

Do I need another shift dress? No, but I want one. Badly. Can I see myself gallivanting around town in a strapless jumpsuit? No, but I still really, really want it.

I am still on those FB groups about selling/trading Lilly for Target items, and I need to get off of them, because it just makes me stressed. Yes, stressed. Because every time I see an item I would like, someone else has already claimed it, or the person wants a trade, not a purchase. I don't need anything. But I want it all.

We live in a culture of excess (or at least some of us do). We want it all, and we want it right now.

That is what I want to change about myself.

My family and I live a comfortable life. All of our needs are met, and there's money left over each month to eat out when we like and purchase some things we just want (not need). But we are not so rich we can purchase anything we desire.

I have the feeling, though, if we had more money, nothing would change. Perhaps we would purchase a few more "wants," but it still would not be enough. There would always be something else, just out of reach.

My closet and drawers are full of great clothes, so many I probably need to take a trip to Goodwill or Salvation Army and donate the ones I don't wear anymore. Why am I so disappointed that I didn't get another dress or top that I don't really need?

I am still working on that.

At a time when there are riots on the streets of Baltimore, because we as a nation can't quite solve the problems of poverty, and race relations, and police brutality and general human stupidity, I am sad because I didn't get a dress or a jumpsuit.

Really, Mary Beth?

I am a bit ashamed that this has consumed ANY of my time this last week. Of all the things to be worrying about, feeling stressed about, being sad about, a clothing line should not be at the top of my list.

And of course, there are many other things that I have on my mind and prayer list - healing and respite for sick relatives and friends, peace for war-torn areas of our world, understanding for both sides of the racial conflicts in our country and others, healing for those devastated in Nepal, hope for same sex couples across the nation as they wait to hear from the Supreme Court that their marriages are legal across the country and they are given the same rights as heterosexual couples.

I have so much to be thankful for. I have what I need, times four. It's time to move on from longing for something I just want, and help others get what they need.

Shut Up and Dance With Me

Last week, my life lesson came from a roller coaster. This weekend, it was from the dance floor.

Most of you have probably heard the great new song by Walk the Moon, "Shut Up and Dance," and been transported back to your childhood. One of my friends said it sounded like it came right out of The Breakfast Club, and I have to agree.

(There's also a really great montage of dance scenes from movies set to the song - if you haven't seen it yet, I guarantee it will make you want to dance around the room!)

While I did not get to dance to that particular song this weekend, I did get to dance at a fundraiser for the Alamance County Service League, of which I am a member.

Last year, I co-chaired our spring fundraiser, and spent months planning and worrying, and making sure each detail was correct so the fundraiser would be a success.

This year, it was someone else's turn to chair, and I just got to go and have fun!

I invited several friends to join me, and ended up with a table of women who had left their spouses at home. The DJ called us the Single Ladies all night long, which made the evening even more fun.

When the music began, several of us danced. And not the slightly bashful, I hope no one is watching me, kind of dancing. No, we acted like we were young girls dancing around in our bedrooms at a slumber party (the actual scene that comes to mind is the one from 13 Going on 30 when they're dancing to Pat Benetar's "Love is a Battlefield.")

We were not shy. We sang along. We shook our groove things.

I am not a great dancer. I do not have natural rhythm. But I do have so much fun dancing.

This kind of dancing, the kind where you just lose yourself in the music and don't hold back, doesn't happen all the time. Little kids dance that way. Sometimes, adults do too, at weddings, or class reunions, or, in my case, at a fundraiser.

That kind of reckless abandon, losing your self consciousness, being in the moment, having fun and not caring what others think of you, is something we all need more of in our lives.

So dancing may not be your thing. Perhaps no amount of alcohol would make the dance floor your friend. But there is some other way you can let loose and live life to its fullest.

Maybe you would love to go skydiving, or whitewater rafting, or zip lining, but you have always found an excuse to put it off.

Or maybe you need to make mud pies and jump in puddles this spring with your kids. You remember when you were a kid, and there was nothing more fun than playing in a warm spring rain? Recapture that feeling!

Or go with your kid to the local ice cream parlor and order a decadent treat, like a banana split or a big sundae. Too often we forget to enjoy the simple pleasures of life, and the sight of your kid's eyes when they see that big sundae or banana split appearing in front of them is definitely a pleasure.

Have you always dreamed of learning to play an instrument, or take a ballroom dancing class, or becoming a knitter or crocheter or a quilter? What is stopping you from your dreams?

"Oh, don't you dare look back.
Just keep your eyes on me."
I said, "You're holding back,"
She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"

Last week, I rode a roller coaster. This week, I danced with joy. I cannot wait to see what next week brings.

Life Lessons from a Roller Coaster

My family just got back from a great vacation in Williamsburg, VA. We enjoyed Jamestown, Yorktown and Colonial Williamsburg, but the highlight of the trip was Busch Gardens.

I am not really a roller coaster girl. I really hate the sensation of falling, and since most roller coasters want you to feel that sensation of your stomach flying up to your throat, I don't enjoy them.

When I was younger, friends dragged me onto The Big Bad Wolf at Busch Gardens. I survived that experience, mostly because I couldn't see the big hill until I was already on the ride, and getting ready to go down it! But The Loch Ness Monster was right there, in the open, with that huge hill starting off, and I wanted no part of it.

Now I am older, and have figured out what kinds of rides I enjoy. I have no problem going upside down, twisting, or spinning. I am good on smaller roller coasters, but still don't enjoy the sensation of falling, great heights or going so fast I feel out of control.

This trip, I decided to challenge myself a bit. This was, in part, to encourage my child to try some different things, too. So I rode Alpengeist. And didn't hate it.

My husband rode it first. He told me it was really smooth, and so fast you don't really even know what you're doing. He told me to take off my glasses (they would have flown off, yes, but that way, I also was less aware of what was coming next). There was just one big hill at the first that does that "click-click-click-click" all the way up, followed by the rush down. From then on, it was just one quick loop and twist after another.

Compare that to the Griffon, which has three "click-click-click" hills, along with second-long pauses at the top so you know just what is getting ready to happen. As I have said to several people, "Just no. No. No."

But that wasn't the roller coaster on which I learned my lesson.

When we first arrived at the park, the only area open was the Sesame Street area. That was perfect, we thought, because our son would get to "warm up" on the kid rides before deciding to ride the big rides. He enjoyed the wiggly worm ride, and the boat ride, but the roller coaster... not so much.

Grover's Alpine Express is a kid-sized roller coaster. We went up the little hill, and then accelerated down the hill and the curve. At that point, my son turned to me and said, "I don't like this!" Luckily, the ride isn't very long.

I was glad we found out he didn't like roller coasters before we got on one of the big ones. I would have hated for him to have such a traumatic experience, and not ride anything else!

But the lesson I learned (or am trying to learn)? When to push my child and when to let it go.

Was it important that he learn to confront his fears of roller coasters at age 7? No, not really. He has years to figure out what he likes and doesn't like when it comes to thrill rides. When he is a teenager, he might feel differently, or it might take him until he's 40, like me!

I did struggle when we got to the swings, and I couldn't convince him to ride them with me. I encouraged him to try them, but when he said no, I didn't push.

But how does that translate to real life? How far do you push your child, and when do you let go?

My son is not into sports, but I wanted him to at least try soccer. After one season, when he didn't want to continue, the decision to try something else (acting class), was an easy one.

Right now, we are still trying to find the thing or things he will be passionate about. That means trying as many different experiences as we can find, until we find the ones that he really enjoys. It is not so much quitting an activity as deciding that it is not for him, and trying a different one.

He loves music, so he will probably begin music lessons next fall. But what if he wants to quit after a few years, or when he is a teenager?

Being the adult, and the parent, means making those tough decisions sometimes. It would be short-sighted to let him choose to quit something that he would regret quitting later.

And then there's academics. I find that I am a bit of a Tiger Mom. I laughed this week when watching Fresh Off of the Boat, when the mom reacted to her son's straight-A's by going to the school and asking for tougher work for him. I have told my son that if the books he is reading for AR points are too easy to ask for harder ones. When we were off for a couple of weeks for snow and ice, I bought a workbook and made my son do a few pages each day. This week on vacation? Mean Mom still made him do his homework.

I do try hard not to push him too much. But on the other hand, I want him to succeed in life. My parents always expected my best work. While I hated having to redo things, and wished they would just let a few things slide when I was a child, I appreciated their hard work (and the high expectations of my teachers) once I got to college.

I have realized, in talking to people I have worked or socialized with as an adult, that not everyone had a parent or parents who expected the best from them. Not everyone did a workbook (or three) each summer. Not everyone took SAT and ACT prep courses, and agonized over their scores.

And you know, they turned out alright. My mom now admits that she and my father probably pushed going to UNC or another top-tier college too much, and that we might have been just fine going elsewhere.

I think that no matter what, I would have striven to go to a top-tier university. But I probably could have done without the ulcer-creating junior year math class I hated so much. I should have taken the easier course, knowing that I wasn't planning on majoring in anything that required much math (and my senior year, I did just that).

That doesn't mean I will stop expecting my child's best work, or that I won't keep pushing him to achieve. That doesn't mean I will let him quit piano (or guitar or violin) lessons if he grows tired of practicing and just wants to play video games instead. He will attend prep classes for the SAT or ACT or whatever the test is when he gets to high school.

However, in light of the roller coaster epiphany, I am going to try to curb some of my instincts to push him harder. There is a line between having high expectations and making sure they are met, and pushing your child so much that he rebels or grows to hate something he once loved. I have to let him decide when he's ready to move up to the next level of books (or trust that the teacher will move him up when he is ready). I have to let him decide if the acting class he is taking now is something he wants to continue doing, or if it was a good experience, but it is time to move on to something else.

And I will let him grow to love (or tolerate) roller coasters on his own schedule.