Adequate Ventilation

So, let us just start this off with a little randomness and highlights. First, it was Halloween last night and anyone who is anyone knows that Draculora is THE woman to emulate this year (not really). The brilliance of Natalia's costume for this Monster High diva was most of the costume came straight from Natalia's closet. I have to admit that it makes me proud that Natalia already dresses like these new edgy Barbie-esqu dolls. The only things we had to buy were a wig, fish net tights to go over her already owned hot pink ones, and some fangs that didn't work out anyway. Of course this Pinterest Diva had a backup plan and painted the fangs on her bottom lip. It looked better anyway. I mean, seriously. Super cute and age appropriate. And if you really want to get all "mom approved nerdy" about it, she read the chapter book first. 

Another highlight before I delve into my Jack Handy deep thought is how much I love blow drying Natalia's hair. Not just because I love playing with hair, but because I never know what I'm going to get. Tonight she busted into the robot, as in the 80's dance move. Might I add she is pretty darn good at it, too with the swinging broken arm thing and all. I don't mind that I am having to chase her head around the bathroom with the hair dryer or that the singing goes from sweet mommy/daughter to competitive rather quickly (yeah, there is a lack of maturity here). It's pretty funny. Every once in a while it will be note worthy enough to make Jeremy stop what he is doing and peek into the bathroom to see what is going on. Sometimes he will even catch a bit on film. She nor I are embarrassed about it. The acoustics are amazing and it is important to take a little time each week to work on your moves. That is why her "robot" has come so far. (See me doing the "beauty pageant winner face fan" in my proud mama kind of way.) Those of you who know me are cracking up because you see me do this..... often. I've worked on it in front of the mirror too.

Okay, back to my focal point. Since I have a (very) small audience, most of you know I am an ER nurse. There are a few reasons why, none of which include me wanting to sit at a patient's bedside and hold his hand while healing takes place. You have to go to another floor for that kind of nurse. ER nurses are "fixers". You give us a problem, and just like Vanilla Ice - "Yo, I'll solve it." I consider myself a good listener, but I am a "fixer" through and through. 

Jeremy was venting to me about wanting to lose weight and tone up. I listened, was empathetic, then started mapping out a plan. He was sweet enough to listen, then politely told me that he knows how I love to help by planning things out, but he really just wanted to vent. Oh. What a novel idea. The love of my life, the bestie among besties wanted to dish only to have me - well, at the time I don't know what I was supposed to do. Smile and nod? Compliment him on what he looks like now? Go all "valley girl" with a "I know, right?". I'll come back to that.

Here's another one: One of my favorite friends totally needed me, so I stepped in, stepped up, and helped a sista out. First of all, like any good Southern girl, we started with a good meal of comfort food. When in angst, start with a good meal and a hug. See, a "fixer". Okay, then we moved on to her laying it all on me. She had a lot she needed to get off her chest that she had just had festering for a long time. We sat for hours with a box of tissues, two snugly blankets and then I made some nachos, because ya gotta replenish that comfort food when the angst has built up for more than a few weeks. I don't make the rules up, I just follow them. Anyway, after the evening was pretty much done I wrote down a list of all the things I thought she needed to do to "fix" her situation. I told her how I would hold her hand through each "fix", and then I told her how much I love her. I do. She's pretty much ah-mazing. 

Me making an action plan for her certainly made me feel better. I'm not sure if it really made her feel any better, though. I know me being there for her, telling her that she is my girl and showing her how much I care mattered a heck of a lot more than my "fix list". I know that I did a good job listening, but after the listening part, I should have asked "What do you need me to do". If she didn't know then I think that should be my carte blanche. Well, not really. Well, kind of, but not really.

How did I come upon this super-sane realization? Was it Jeremy's frank discussion with me in the shower (yes, our best discussions happen there and I highly recommend it). No props for him. It was an 8 minute discussion with Natalia after school where she had to lie to me to shut me up. Talk about wounding a mother's heart. Ouch.

I don't even remember the whole story, but it was something about her and her BFF getting into a disagreement that day over something girly and lame. You know the kind. "I told Kayla that I like her, but I wanted to play with Aspen for a while that recess. Kayla got mad, then wouldn't talk to me on the bus." or something very "Saved by the Bell" sounding. I started in on a long winded lecture about calling Kayla to work it out, blah, blah, blah. That is when my sweet cherub became possessed by the demon Fibacus - unholy creature of obvious fibs which are poorly presented so even a non-mom could tell that this child just lied. Natalia's lie detector is pretty easy right now anyway. If you ask her straight out "Is that for real, or are you making that up a little bit?", if she is lying she will either become outrageously defensive or will erupt into a fit of giggles. It's too easy.  This time it was giggles.

She sighed like she does when I have completely exasperated her and explained that she lied because she had just wanted to vent. Natalia told me that sometimes she just wants to tell me what happened, but doesn't want me to tell her what to do about it. This was very thought provoking for me. Not only had my daughter politely just told me to shut up, but I realized if I want her to keep dishing to me, I better learn to listen and only "fix" if she asks me to. Besides, am I not supposed to be teaching her how to "fix" her own problems? Obviously I have enough to work on myself. It's a good thing I have my eight year old to teach me these Cosby moments. Where would I be without her? I'll tell you where I would be. I'd be in the shower complaining to Jeremy that no one ever takes the advice I gave that they never asked for. Here, let me fix that for you.....

So I think I will get my "fixing" fix from the ER and just work on being a good listener for my family and besties. I'm sure I will get lucky one day and SOMEONE will want my advice, and they may even take it. Oh, be still my heart. I stand firm on the fact that an acute attack of stress requires a reasonable amount of comfort food, a hug, a blanket and a good friend; but that is just common sense, not necessarily me splitting the atom here. Forgive me if I test out my listen-while-I-button-my-lip skills on y'all because this is all practice for the good fight, which is being the go-to girl for Natalia. The conversations are going to get a lot tougher than recess and even I know she is going to stop coaching me at some point.