The first time I became aware of the transition from my upbringing to my first grandchild’s was when my eldest son and his wife made a visit with their firstborn who had just turned two. They live a distance so they stayed for a few days. From morning till night I felt as if I was part of the Inquisition. No matter what the child was doing she was asked if she was comfortable, happy, did she want to change her activity, did she need a snack, or was she tired. If she said she wanted the snack, my daughter-in-law would turn into a waiter from a five-star restaurant with a menu including the specials of the day. Once the kid decided what she wanted, my daughter-in-law would ask her if what kind of dish she wanted it and in and what type of utensils she might need. After two days I was beside myself. I thought back to my mother and her drill sergeant tactics. “Clean your room than you can go out and play”, I don’t care who else is doing that, you’re not”, Eat everything on your plate, the people in China are starving”. Talking back was a non-issue and I believe that the majority of individuals that come from my generation have had the same experiences. Do I believe that it was all okay? No I do not. Some of us became compromised from having parents who gave no opportunity for explanations or questions, but many did not. However, what has followed has not necessarily all been good. The incessant need to make children feel good about every little thing they do has left some of them in vulnerable positions as adults. According to a recent article in USA Today, about job interviewing, many of the Millennials haven’t a clue how to interview. There are varying shades of appropriate behavior.  They have been so coddled that they text, or take calls during an interview and come casually dressed, because they believe in being comfortable. One young girl even brought her cat. I am fascinated by the paradigm shift. I do not believe in parents as dictators but if kids are to grow up understanding how to be in the world, shouldn’t they be able to know the difference between sitting in your living room in your pajamas and going to interview for a managerial position with the president of human resources? Not unless the guy interviewing you is wearing pajamas too and holding his pet Siamese.

Filed under: Get a Life ]]> http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/too-many-optinons-and-too-much-coddling-leaves-your-child-without-a-job/feed/ 0 lorettalaroche http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/sometimes-freedom-of-speech-is-freedom-to-loose-your-common-sense/ http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/sometimes-freedom-of-speech-is-freedom-to-loose-your-common-sense/#comments Tue, 21 May 2013 11:41:04 +0000 lorettalaroche http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/?p=550 Continue reading →]]>

I read with great amusement about a middle-school principal who decided to ban strapless dresses for the eighth graders prom. She had a variety of reasons, it distracts the boys, and she felt they were inappropriate for young girls. Interestingly enough, the teens seemed not to take issue with this dictate. However, one of the parents is protesting quite vigorously by sending a letter to the Board of Education saying” it was a violation of her daughter’s 14th Amendment rights to due process and equal protection” USA Today April 24, 2013. My memory bank suddenly brought me back to my own middle school years and high school dances. First of all we had no prom in eighth grade. I must say in retrospect I am immensely grateful that we didn’t. It would have meant finding a garment that could adapt itself to a body that was not yet “quite right”And what about finding a date in a class where all the boys followed the blonde bombshell Priscilla Banks around the school yard drooling.  In eighth grade I don’t think most of the girls desired seeking out a dress that would allow them not to look gawky. Somehow or other most of our bodies were not as mature looking as a lot of the kids today. We had proms in high school, but I went to catholic School and the Nuns were relentless about us not revealing any skin that might be improper. I remember my junior prom standing in line before we went out into the auditorium to be with our dates. One of the sisters stood on a chair so she could see if we had any cleavage showing. She was equipped with an arsenal of cover ups which included Kleenex, shawls, and straps that could have held up a small building. No one became incensed over it. We certainly poked fun at it and laughed many times over the years when we had reunions. The parents never intruded. If they did they got a look that could have possibly shortened their life span. Yes, it was a different time and things change, but is it always for the better? One of the other rationale the above principal used for her decision was that “quite often strapless dresses fall when your dancing” Which could make for a lot of Janet Jackson moments. Perhaps what’s really missing is common sense. Wouldn’t you feel freer and have a better time if you didn’t have to continually worry that something might just “pop out”? But we know that the accountability factor would be lost in lieu of suing the dress manufacturer.

Filed under: Get a Life ]]> http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/sometimes-freedom-of-speech-is-freedom-to-loose-your-common-sense/feed/ 0 lorettalaroche http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/2013/04/29/quest-for-neatness-can-make-you-and-others-nuts/ http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/2013/04/29/quest-for-neatness-can-make-you-and-others-nuts/#comments Mon, 29 Apr 2013 11:14:29 +0000 lorettalaroche http://lorettalaroche.wordpress.com/?p=546 Continue reading →]]> I think I am the beginning stages of not being obsessed with having my house look perfect.

I used to be so crazed that I could not leave beds unmade, dishes in the sink or anything out of place. I remember almost being late for a talk I had to do because I vacuumed up some crumbs off the kitchen floor. In those days I worried that someone might come over and report that I was a slob.

I have had many people like me in my workshops. One woman told me that she had to vacuum the rug in the same direction. I asked her why this was so important, and she responded, “I don’t want to disturb the nap.” I told her I didn’t think it was the nap that was disturbed.

I don’t think she had a huge epiphany from my comment, because she went on to tell me how necessary it was for her not to leave any dirty dishes in the sink. I told her to put them in the trunk of the car and then she wouldn’t have to see them.

Unfortunately, this woman kept going on and on with her “shoulds and musts,” because she really needed her family and friends to feel she was perfect. After a few years of hearing similar stories, I began to delve more into “why am I driving myself nuts in order to have my home resemble a museum?”

If I’d bought red velvet ropes and cordoned off certain rooms, I’d have been all set. My family could have been relegated to the basement; then I could enjoy the order and cleanliness.

However, the energy it takes to keep everything pristine is exhausting, and it drives everyone around you nuts.

My other dilemma was my ability to see a dirt ball a mile away. I’ve been blessed and cursed with high-level awareness. I would have made a great forensic scientist.

During the past five years my need to “seek and clean” has been tempered by being in a partnership with a wonderful man who is the direct opposite. Any time I walk into the kitchen, every cupboard door is open. He loves coffee and has three or four half cups in different rooms in the house. I often find one he forgot in the microwave.

He loves to eat something late at night, and I always know, since there are traces of it all over the kitchen. What I find interesting is that I laugh about it more than I curse about it.

I’ve realized that having a loving partnership overrides having a spotless house.

I’m all for improving the human condition and giving us the opportunity to look, and feel great. But self-improvement has now become another job. How many hours a day must we spend trying to discern whether we ate the right amount of blueberries, ingested enough fiber, used the right shampoo for our hair type, or made sure our sheets and pillow cases are not infested with mites? Madison Avenue executives have been plotting for years to get us to think that we will not feel good about ourselves unless we buy something that will enhance how we look. And a lot of us have bought into it. I know I did, but finally I realized that often times I looked worse than when I started. So now I spend more time accepting who i am, which makes me sweat a whole lot less!

We’ve all been with someone who goes on and on about the fact that it’s raining.

“What are we going to do? We’re going to get wet, and our hair will be a mess!”

This is completely irrational, but these people can’t seem to appreciate that. They’re more invested in making themselves nuts. They’ve certainly seen rain and have gotten wet before, and nothing catastrophic happened then, so why can’t they just grab an umbrella and get over it?

But the rain isn’t really the issue, is it? I’m convinced that we don’t want to stop whining because in some way it gives us attention. And since most of us aren’t feeling very appreciated or nurtured, we use negativity as a way to get our needs met, even though we know that it turns people off.

One of the ways we can begin to shift this behavior and make ourselves and everyone around us feel better is to use the art of exaggeration. It’s simply a twist on how we disturb ourselves.

In other words, if you’re passionately pursuing guilt, try exaggerating the feeling. Victor Frankl calls this “paradoxical intention,” which means that if we intentionally disturb ourselves to the point where we get to an extreme place, it becomes ridiculous. It helps create the ability for self-detachment: You become you looking at you.

It’s common for people to become irrational in traffic. I have been the passenger in vehicles where the driver acted as if the other drivers had somehow been given licenses without having to be tested. After all, why else would all these idiots be on the road?

Try taking your ranting up a couple of notches. Tell yourself those other drivers will all be arrested and put in a maximum-security prison for several years without any hope for parole. This will allow you to be the only car on the road.

If it’s starting to sound ludicrous, it’s because it is. If you can begin to intentionally make your minor irritations worse than they are and then laugh at yourself, you are on the road to less stress.

We live in a very complex world, so we need as many tools as possible to manage our lives. My sense of humor has helped me through many difficult situations. It more than likely saved my sanity. Keep this in mind: You need to use it or you’ll lose it.

The snowmegeddon that enveloped New England increased my awareness of something I teach and often preach about to friends and family. The essential truth is that we have absolute control over nothing, not even our next breath. If we can learn to accept this truth, our lives become easier.

However, I and millions like me have read and believed that we can do anything if we want to. Well, it’s certainly fun to believe that, and perhaps to strive to achieve it, but trying to manipulate life’s inevitable challenges can leave you exhausted.

The blizzard came at a very inopportune time for me. I had all kinds of plans to get my house in order before I had my left shoulder replaced. Well, the universe had other plans. Needless to say, having a joint replaced is not exactly a walk in the park. It does cause anxiety. Then, top it off with hurricane-force winds, 20 inches of snow and no lights. As the storm grew more ferocious, so did my need to ask, “Why me?”

At one point, I truly thought this was a test for me to survive. Our egos get so involved, we think there must be a plot to undermine our plans.

I had made all kinds of promises to myself about ending my procrastination and looking into buying a generator. I remember having the same thoughts years ago in a similar situation.

The bottom line is that much of who we are is formed early in life, and changing our behaviors is a daunting task.

I also tend to think something magical will happen — like someone will come along and take over. That’s more magical thinking.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, many of us are taught to feel that we have powers that others don’t have.

I have created a lot of my destiny. My career was the outcome of many goals that I achieved. But I was not imbued with the ability to stop snow in its tracks.

Striving for goals that can make you successful or help you have better relationships is reasonable. Understanding that you might not succeed no matter how hard you try is reasonable, too.

I am hoping that this latest bit of insanity that nature imposed upon us will reduce my need to think I can be the Grand Poobah of the universe. But an inner voice always seems to say, “Give me a break, you know no one else can do things as well as you can.”

Ah, the best-laid plans of mice and men — and sometimes me.

I came to realize that teaching individuals how to re-address situations to co-workers, friends or family members so that they would hear them and respond rationally was a daunting task. Unfortunately, we often fail to deal with others in rational ways because we have not been privy to rational discussions in our homes.

My mother and stepfather were very much like the characters in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf?” Their relationship was a minefield fraught with vocal barbs. I never knew what to expect.

The self-help movement gave birth to many books that would suggest conflict-handling methods that were supposed to douse the flames of anger. I would read the statements the authors proposed and laugh my butt off. A suggestion would go something like this: “Am I to understand that you are experiencing some anger toward me? Should we take a ‘time out’ and go to a quiet space and reflect on our needs and how we might share them without becoming overly emotional?”

I tried to picture my stepfather saying that to my mother. She would have nailed him to the bedpost with a few select, sarcastic jabs. He would then revert to his passive-aggressive style and reply, “If you were nice, we wouldn’t be having this argument.” Then, of course, she would take out her cloak of martyrdom and list how much she did for everyone and how little she was appreciated. The drama would continue until one of them gave up – usually my stepfather – and then there would be a semblance of peace for a few days.

What each of them really wanted was to be heard. But listening without the need to defend yourself or without reverting to dredging up the other’s mistakes is not easy. Some people are masters at keeping tabs on what you “didn’t do.”

We learn through example, and many of us have had bad examples when it comes to communication. I find with age that I don’t have the same need to score points. I certainly have trouble with being accused of things I haven’t done or said, but now I’m more than likely to think, “Oh, well, what can you do? Let them believe it. I really don’t have to go to court over this.”

Learning how to really listen to someone – without mentally practicing, while the other person is still talking, what you’re going to say next – takes some control. And the world we now live in makes it harder and harder to be present for one another.

So take a deep breath, listen, and then think about how to respond. It will probably be a lot better for your blood pressure.

I, too, have become a devotee of the program. The characters, clothing, castle and dialogue are exquisite.

Actress Maggie Smith has some of the best lines, which are often filled with razor-sharp wit. The sarcasm rolls off her tongue and so quickly that her victims don’t have time to react before she skewers them again.

The contrast to some of what TV executives have decided is programming fit for the public is astounding. There are so many reality shows today that seem to focus on individuals that are becoming famous for being dysfunctional, or excessive in all areas of their lives.

When I am aimlessly surfing to see what I might find that is fodder for a column, I am blown away by what I see – shows like “Duck Dynasty,” “Swamp Men” and “Buried Alive,” a show on hoarding. And, of course, there’s the infamous Honey Boo Boo.

Kathleen Parker from the Washington Post said “the Honey Boo Boo family proudly shares even that which Beano intends to prevent. The show has become a hit simply because no one can believe that anyone lives like that. But you would think after seeing it once that you would not want to wallow in the muck with them.”

What I fail to understand is why there are so many shows that appear to thrive on using degradation and humiliation to entertain the public. I’m sure I’ll hear from some readers who think I’m being a snob. Well, guess what? I am!

There are so many talented, actors and musicians who need work. Why are the networks choosing to inundate us with shows that are essentially pathetic?

The latest reality show on the docket is called “Buck Wild.” It focuses on the antics of young adults in rural Kanowha, W. Va. Sen. Joe Manchin, a local politician, has railed against the show, asking the station to remove it. He could not understand why the programmers would not want to showcase his state in a more tasteful way. Well, Senator, you’re missing the point. There are more than 900 stations now, all vying for viewers. They have to fill hours and hours with programming. Once the Snooki franchise took off because of its excessive cursing, shoving and over-the-top clothes and nails, they thought, “Hey, America is digging this. Let’s see how far we can go.”

So here we are, and where it will all go is not too much of a mystery. I’m sure if we stay on this track, we will get further and further into the dark and stupid side of humanity, unless more people say “enough” and don’t tune in.