What Strengths?

Do you know your top 5 strengths? My office decided that I needed to find out what top 5 things I do best. We are getting ready to go to a Staff Retreat and in preparation for this meeting we were given a book: Strengths Finder 2.0 by Tom Rath. In the back of the book is a one-time use code. We are to use this code when we get online to take a 30 minute test, and after answering each question we find out what our top 5 strengths are. I have to admit that I was pretty psyched about taking the test. This could be a pivotal moment in my life: I will finally know where my talents lie. There will be something on paper that states I am good at this or that.

I was so anxious to take the test, I went home and started reading the book and prepared to take the test. I sat down to the computer and worked my way through the links on the website to get to the test. The directions explained that I would have 20 seconds to answer each question. My immediate reaction was “What!” How can I possibly determine the answer to such important life questions in just 20 seconds? The author of the test wanted answers that were not over analyzed. He states in the book that usually the first answer that pops into your head is usually the right one anyway.  Wow! So, all those years of not thinking twice about my affirmative response to, “Do you want ice cream?” were not wrong! Wish my hips were aware of this fact.

Despite my hips, I forged ahead on the test. It was easy. I answered each question quickly and honestly, and I experienced a definite excitement as I came to the end of the test. Let me tell you what my top 5 strengths say about me: I’m boring.

There are 34 possible themes/strengths and some of them are really cool. One theme is actually named “WOO”, which stands for winning others over. There are themes named Futuristic, Positivity, Maximizer (doesn’t that sound rather Terminator-like?), Strategic…I could go on but you get the idea. My strengths, starting with the #1 strength and working down to number 5, are Communication, Harmony, Consistency, Responsibility and Developer. Oh, please! I am even embarrassed to write them down. Could I be any more boring?

My only saving grace is that I didn’t pay for the book. The office paid for it. I am going to have to go to my office Staff Retreat and share this information with my co-workers. Well, at least I know I can communicate, that is number 1 on my list. God help me!

Peace

What happens when a MA’d woman finds herself back in the work force after a few years’ hiatus?  One very sure thing is that it is very odd being “low man on the totem pole” after being off the office radar for a while.  It’s one thing to be the older woman in the office if you have been there for a while and you know all the ropes, people, all the ins and outs of a place:  you are the go-to person.  But, when you are the new person and everyone in the office is younger and you could have given birth to the person training you, well, it just isn’t easy to deal with.

This recession has taken its toll on many of us MA’d people, and I have noticed more and more older workers waiting on tables, delivering packages and greeting you at the front desk in just about any office.  Quite frankly I have my days when I am okay with it.  I mean it gets me out of the house.  I have met some very nice people, and I am learning many new things at my new place of employment.

On the other hand, I sometimes sit at my desk and think to myself, “I could have been in Florida right now or I could be volunteering at my favorite charity or I could be” …..whatever (you fill in the blanks).  I guess I get rather morose about my situation when one of the younger workers say something that is the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head for the “older” lady in the office.  Things like, “Just remember that when you use your iPod don’t have the volume up more the 3/4 range”, and then they smile at you like they want help you to your chair.  I know they mean well.  But, I want to remind this youngster that I was listening to loud, deafening music before he/she was born.  I understand the dangers of hearing loss.

But, I have learned to be tolerant and keep a good sense of humor.  I try to remember how I viewed someone my age when I was their age.  At their age I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be “old-er”.  As we baby boomers get back in there and punch a clock it has brought generations together.  Maybe it will create an understanding between us and them; something that our generation didn’t have with our parents.  We did after all coin the phrase, “Don’t trust anyone over 30″.

Guns and Hosta

My hosta (yes, we MA’d women garden) plants are absolutely gorgeous.  The particular ones that  I have planted in my backyard are called “Guacamole”.  I hate guacamole, but these plants are a beautiful combination of greens that actually look like guacamole; since I don’t have to eat them I love them. 

So do the deer.  They love my hostas not for their “Guacamole” appearance, but for their taste.  Now, I don’t know if they taste like guacamole, but maybe to a deer they are the epitome of guacamole goodness.  Maybe if I were a deer I would understand.  What I understand is that the deer have given every hosta in my backyard a crewcut.  They are not precision straight crewcuts.  They are punk rock cuts that are jagged with random stems jutting up here and there.  The carnage is relentless and cruel.  The deer go away just long enough to allow the hostas to re-grow, and then they return to perform their Sweeney Todd acts on my poor, helpless plants.

These acts are criminal.  Punishment is needed, and as a result I have purchased a gun.  It is certainly not a high powered handgun.  It is a pellet gun with CO2 cartridges.  I intend to defend my yard, and pepper some deer butt in the process.  I have tried other methods before the gun alternative.  I sprayed a concoction of rotten eggs and cayenne pepper on every plant, and it works until it rains.  I managed to convince my husband that he could make the perfect deer deterrent by juryrigging a smoke alarm together with a motion detector light.  The result was that the deer could see the hostas better in the dark, and it aided their gastric repast. 

My frustration has culminated in a pellet gun purchase that I will not apologize for.  My daughter is concerned (and I think a little bit horrified) that I have bought this gun and that I intend to use it.  I have no doubt that when the time comes, I will probably miss the huge animal, but the satisfaction of firing off a round or two and scaring it will be worth every penny.   Look out, Bambi.

Botox

I am a MA’d (Middle-Aged) woman.  I have just finished taking a shower and I realized one thing as I looked in the mirror:  I have never been happy with the way I look.  This thought crept into my head as I wrapped a towel around my wet head and looked at myself in the mirror.   It makes me sad to think that I never enjoyed or appreciated my beauty.  I was too busy trying to be “better”.  I wondered:  How many more women have felt this way all their lives?  How many women my age have wasted their lives trying so hard to look like someone else; to be thinner than they were (even though they were already thin enough); or have spent thousands of dollars trying to be younger?  I picture the Neandertal woman at middle age (which was probably 18) staring at herself in the nearest pond/puddle and wishing she could look better.  But, for what?  Possibly the ugliest man on the planet?

We talk about how people and society evolve, and you would think that somewhere during the evovlement of women we would finally accept our appearance as it is and move on.   I could have sworn we were headed that way with Women’s Lib, but I believe women are heading backwards instead of forward with regard to appreciating who we are.  I am no history major, but women have always been judged on their youth and beauty.   The Victorian woman who practically suffocated herself in a tightly cinched corset to have that ever-popular miniscule waistline; the major beehive do’s that women of the 1960′s created by teasing their hair (basically they tangled their hair into knots) in order to be attractive; or the girls who had naturally curly hair and ironed it so it would be straight and the girls that had naturally straight hair that fried their hair with perms all wanted to be someone other than who they were. 

I know that none of this is earth-shattering, ground-breaking thought, but if I could tell all young women everywhere one thing it would be:  LIKE WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE.  In fact, enjoy your appearance.  Enjoy the youthfulness of your skin, the limber in your limbs and don’t compare yourself to anyone. 

What we need to do as MA’d women is set THE example.  We were teenagers in the late sixties and early seventies.  We saw firsthand bra burnings and women’s rights come into the forefront, but have we had so many Botox injections that we can’t remember what that was all about?  Be proud of your age.  Don’t hide it or mask it or surgically remove it.  Just enjoy!  Younger women are watching us.  Let’s evolve.

Visits

There is nothing better than a visit from your kids.  My daughter is home right now for a few weeks and it has been great to spend time with her.  It is great to remember the past.  More importantly, it is wonderful to see the present.  One thing I love about being “my age” is being able to finally see the fruits of my labor as a mom.  My kids are happy and living independent, productive lives. 

My son lives in town and when we get together for dinner we converse about our adult lives.  As we sit at the dinner table I realize he has become this….man.   A man who is confident, self-sufficient and still doesn’t mind spending time with his parents.  It doesn’t happen on a regular basis, but when it does it is gratifying.  The same goes for my daughter.  I never thought I could feel the same awe and wonder about my children as I did when they were those small, helpless newborns freshly cleaned by the nurses and crying after such an arduous trip into life.  But here is that same feeling with a twist.  They aren’t handed to me, helpless and squirming.  They come to see me strong and mature with their own ideas and suggestions for my benefit.  The tide has turned.  Some day I will need their assistance, and I have every confidence they will be there for me when that time comes.  What a treasure.  What a blessing.

4 a.m.

It is a 4 a.m., and I am awake.  Why can’t I sleep through the night?  I have been told that it is due to being “middle aged” (MA’d).  There may be some truth to that.  I talk to a lot of women my age and they all seem to have the same trouble.  They may be up at different times, but they all don’t sleep through the night.   I envision this myriad of households with a  lone MA’d women wondering around their home:  folding laundry, watching infomercials, or writing on blogs and cursing the fact that they can’t get 8 hours of decent sleep. 

MA’d women should have some secret way of communicating with one another during those times.  Be connected during these long, dark nights we are awake and everyone else in the house is sound asleep.  Is that possible?

Sailing

My life continues to get more complicated.  I thought that by the time I got to be my age life would be simpler.  If anyone tells you it will be:  they LIE.  After making it through all the pitfalls of marriage, babies, raising kids through childhood bruises, adolescent angst, college (they turned out fabulous, by the way)  and just stuff that continues to clog the brain during those times.  I assumed incorrectly that from here on out I could sail.  I feel like I am in a rusty tugboat on a choppy sea and I am bailing.