Gratitude is Womenzwerk

Cliche it may be, but today's about gratitudes. Here are mine:

• I'm grateful that I'm not having the big dinner at my house today. I bought a veggie tray at the grocery store and have never been more grateful for my sister-in-law!

• I'm grateful for my Teacher and the opportunity to learn and be. I'm grateful for my students and the students yet to come.
  

• I'm grateful for a fresh start and a new beginning, finally starting my life's work at 51.

• I'm grateful that this isn't last year. Enough said.

• I'm grateful for having my purse stolen last month, for having it returned in the way that it was and the timing that it was and for the lessons I learned along the way.

• I'm grateful that Detroit is still on the map with enough energy to support our Lions on yet another Thanksgiving Day. Like the Lions...we Michiganders are survivors.
• I'm grateful for my wonderful network of family, friends and colleagues who showed me the grace of connectedness this year.
• I'm grateful that my family is safe and sound this holiday. Even if they are a little out there, I'm glad everyone's OK including Buckeye, in the hospital this holiday but recovering.
  
• I'm grateful that women everywhere have once again made it possible for us to celebrate this day.
• I'm grateful that it's not a white Thanksgiving.
  
• And I'm grateful for sweat pants and jammies at the end of a long day, month or year.

I hope that gratitude is becoming a daily habit as part of our centering and becoming. Happy Thanksgiving!
Is daily gratitude part of your morning or evening routine?

Now health is Womenzwerk?

Just how much can we take on when it comes to health care?

This has been a very interesting week for women and health. We find out that everything we thought about mammograms and pap smears isn't true. And we have our greatest fears confirmed about the loyalty of our spouses if we ever do get seriously ill ( http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/booster_shots/2009/11/seriously-ill-women-face-higher-risk-of-partner-abandonment-compared-to-men.html) .

It's all a little much. So let's see if I get this right. Throughout my lifetime now I need to keep track of a complex series of recommendations regarding appropriate "female" tests. I need to determine if I'm "at risk" which puts me in a different category than other women. I need to decide when and how often I feel I really need medical tests and if I'm not getting tested, how often I really need to see my physician at all. In a way, it's liberating, it puts health care in my hands and frees me of any need to see a physician if I feel fine. After all, the Universe knows that action follows thought. If the fear of getting life threatening illness drives us to the doctor once a year, that ultimately could bring it on based on the laws of nature. I guess I'm good with all of that other than the vast choices and options this adds to our already full brains, hearts and lives. The sheer responsibility of putting our health in our own hands (which, frankly, it's always been) may be the tipping point in already stressed out, overloaded lives. Never mind that we will also be advising our girlfriends, sisters, mothers and daughters as they ask for help with their choices. We're in this together.

But when we combine this with the documentation of what we've always known about male spouses, it all seems like just too much coincidence for one week. What is the universe trying to tell us? In case you didn't hit the link above, the news about spouses is that they simply do abandon their sick wives at a significantly high rate (20.8%) and that makes men six times more likely to abandon their life-threatened partners than women. So adding this up then, we can conclude that we are not just making decisions regarding our health but also decisions regarding the very stability of our family now. PLEASE...we know women hold up the world, but this is getting crazy.

It was an interesting health news week for sure. If all this is becoming overwhelming to you, you are not alone. The only thing left to do is surrender it all to the Universe and live our lives. Hopefully healthfully and with longevity and with spouses at our sides!

So, what do you think....is Womenzwerk getting overwhelming? How are you coping?

Womenzwerk at the grocery store

Is it Womenzwerk to make sure everyone in our household eats properly?

I power-shopped at the grocery store this weekend and didn't pay much attention to what was on my list. As it turned out we were out of just the essentials, you know Diet Coke, sugary cereal, chips, cookies (hey, c'mon they were 100 calorie packs), ice cream and peanut butter. I think there was some type of chicken in there. Maybe a can of tuna. The bill came to over $200. As I was checking out and waiting for my bags (can I get paper AND plastic?), the cashier leaned over and said "enjoy your vacation". When I looked confused she stammered "well I just assumed you were shopping for vacation". Nope, lady. This is how my family eats every day. There wasn't a fruit or veggie in sight (unless you count spinach dip).

All the way home I pondered this. Just how bad a mother am I? And wife? I have a teenage son who eats huge quantities of anything he can find and has always steered clear of anything good for him. I have a carnivore for a husband who also loves gravy. He eats a diet from the 60's which I'm pretty sure he'll never change. Should I just buy the things these guys should eat and hope they'll change their ways? My daughter feeds her kids only organic and is going "raw" herself. But when she comes home, she wants the good stuff too. Is it my job to force people to eat healthy? Or my job to set the example when they really don't care?

I agree that when the kids are little we have a responsibility for their early eating habits and I was much better when I could control what went in their mouths. Now, though, what's realistic? I think it's grossly unfair for women to carry the responsibility for not just the shopping and cooking but also the eating preferences of everyone in the house. Half of the time they eat out anyway. I might be just rationalizing my total female failure here, but I'm wondering at what age people begin to fend for themselves and make their own choices about their health. I'm pretty sure my husband is at least that old. I tried to think about what would happen if I had a mom in my house and I was a member of the tribe. When I grew up, healthy eating wasn't even discussed in polite company. Only hippies were vegetarians. So I have no role model to look to. So fast forward to today, if I were a member of a household rather than the head of a household I think that I would expect to state my food preferences and lobby to have that food in the house so I could eat what appealed to me. If it was healthy food I'd ask for that. So, conversely, since my family asks me for unhealthy food do I really have a choice? I feel like I don't.

I want to be comfortable with this and not change my ways. Still, I think I'll shop at a different store next week.
So... what do you think? Is it really our responsibility to keep everyone in our family eating right?

Womenzwerk at the baseball field

Can women change the way people deal with negativity and anger?

Let's face it, parents are simply not at their best in their children's competitive sports environments. I just returned from the last tournament of our summer baseball travel team, guys under 16 who work hard on the ball field and act like kids off the field. It was an intense week of boy behavior and good ball, with everyone on their last nerve by mid-week. Despite all this, they were winning and we were all still having fun. Or so I thought.

Friday's game was a close one, with just enough errors and strike outs to put us on edge. But we were ahead and the sun was shining and things were going OK. Then the home plate umpire made a call that no one had seen before. The batter threw his helmet and bat and lurched toward the dug out just shy of getting thrown out of the game. Then his dad reacted to the umpire's comment to one of our coaches and actually did get thrown out of the game. It was all over quickly but it was contagious. The next thing I knew, one of the boys had shoved another and a short fight ensued between two guys who were close teammates. That was quickly followed by yet another player mouthing off to the umpire, another player ignoring his father's offer of help and that father being so angry he swore at the umps in the parking lot. All this and we actually won the game. I can't imagine how that anger might have festered if we'd lost.

I'm writing about this because, in the end, it was the women who saved the day. We had one more game to play on the next day and we knew we needed to get past this negative energy. It followed us off and on until game time and I was concerned. This game was even more intense with a very close score and a championship at stake. In the middle of the game, there was another umpire call that our coaches needed to question. As I sat there holding my breath, I heard first one dad and then another begin to call out to the umpires and the anger begin to rise. Then like an angelic chorus, I could hear each of the women in the stands begin to calm the waters. "Guys...you can't help from here." "Guys...this is just a game, we need to let the boys work it out." "Guys...it doesn't matter, let's support the next batter." The women's voices effectively drowned out the men's and calmness and peace prevailed. The next batter came up and I heard one of the dad's begin the call for rally caps and suddenly you could feel the energy turn and a wave of peace and even joy pervade the stands. It was a truly amazing moment. In the end, the parents were a little nuts with encouragement for the team but it was exciting and fun and everything that baseball should be. Just a game. And a darn good time on any day. Oh by the way...we won in extra innings and took home the championship. I'm not sure the other team knew that what we really won was a battle with negativity and anger, thanks to a little Womenzwerk.

So what do you think...can women be the ones to turn the tide when negative energy and anger rise to the surface? Is that a new form of Womenzwerk?

Bow bouquets and Womenzwerk

Are traditional weddings becoming a thing of the past? Is it our job to be the change agents for life's ceremonies?

I'm surrounded by weddings today. A good friend's daughter is getting married this afternoon and I am regretfully missing it for my son's final baseball tournament of the summer. Sure enough, checking into our hotel last night was an entire wedding party and I"m watching them gathering for hair, nails and girl bonding this morning. My mother-in-law is pestering us about an upcoming wedding this Fall and my confirmation that wedding gifts have arrived at yet another wedding destination came in my e-mail today. As a final reminder that weddings are to be front and center for me right now, the YouTube video of the people dancing down the aisle was widely distributed this week. OK...here's your sign as that comedian loves to say.

It seems to me that weddings are subtly and significantly changing, even as they seem to carry on in traditional ways. In June I had the honor of acting as the officiate at a special couple's wedding. They were long time friends of my daughter and one of those couples you just love to see get married. It was a beautiful ceremony with lots of the traditions you would expect. But here's the thing...the bride and groom wanted to put their own stamp on their wedding. They didn't want a traditional Christian ceremony despite being raised in the Christian church. They wanted something that felt personally spiritual and meaningful to them and their new life. They cared about the words I used and the symbols I would incorporate. They cared about the atmosphere, the energy, the intention. And they didn't want to be marrried in a church.

When it came to the folk traditions that women have perpetuated for generations, they were mostly neutral. At one of their showers, it was the middle-aged women who insisted on the bow bouquets, for example. The young women had no idea what we were talking about and looked at us like we were a little nuts. I've seen this echoed in the conversations of mothers-of-the-bride that I seem to take part in all the time lately. The brides are beyond non-traditional in their approach to their ceremonies. Instead, they are more spiritual and less ritual bound. More into personal connectedness and less religion bound. It just seems like the ritual of the wedding ceremony itself and the traditions associated with it are tolerated but not venerated. As if the fabric of what we used to think was important and necessary, has frayed. I think that's a good thing. Because I think that what is behind it, deep down under all the lace and planning and love, is Womenzwerk at it's finest. A women led revolution into a new way of thinking that eliminates our dependence on structures, and elevates our ability to experience each other and God without interference, in a very personal and peaceful way.

It's good to note that other major religious ceremonies are changing, too. Funerals, for example, have become more about understanding our passage to Home. More about memorializing lives than worrying about "going to Hell". More about the soothing of grief, than a focus on fear of dying. Baptisms are less popular and less of an automatic "insurance" policy needed for spiritual success. Instead,christenings are rising in popularity, more as an early life blessing and intention by the family.When you think about it, you'll think of others. The changes are subtle but steady. The revolution has begun.

And it is women, always women, creating the new standards for these ceremonial opportunities. Or making the ultimate change statement...standards optional.

So what do you think...are weddings or other ceremonies changing? Will it be women who lead the change?

Goodbyes are Womenzwerk

If we're good at hellos, Womenzwerk requires that we be good at goodbyes.

It's time to admit that I am in a season of goodbyes. I started this blog in my mother's hospice room and as I write this entry I'm preparing to close the sale of her house. Her house isn't hers any more, of course. My daughter and I shared a sale and lots of moments as we gave away her possessions. But they weren't hers any more either. I filled the dumpster and cried and laughed and talked to Mom, alone in her house. But now it sits empty. Just a building that another family will love. In the midst of the goodbyes I realized how much I was well and truly loved by my parents. And I said goodbye to my childhood and goodbye again to my Dad who passed some twenty five years ago. I said goodbye to my grandparents, my high school buddies, my lake, my street, my neighborhood. All things I thought I'd said goodbye to so many years ago.

And I said goodbye to the old me. My daughter understood in a way that only women can. She just came, when no one else in my family (all men...my brother, my son, my husband) understood. She found a sitter, packed up and came, even though it was inconvenient and short notice and no fun. Because women become experts at goodbyes and in our own way, we know what Shakespeare meant bythe sweet sorrow of parting. To do goodbyes well, we have to master amazing hellos. We welcome each passage of womanhood from our first signs of puberty to our first kiss to our laughs with our girlfriends at 85. We celebrate with parties and events, we take photos, we write poems, we make scrapbooks and we are truly in these welcoming moments with each other. So it's only fitting that when it's time to say goodbye and move on to the next part of our journey, we know how to do that with style, too. If not for the support of my daughter this would have been immensely more difficult. With her help and her love, I can move through it to whatever is next.

In keeping with my season of goodbyes, I know this will be a goodbye year. My son is a senior in high school and already focused on the life he'll lead after he moves forward into his uncharted future, far from Mom and Dad. I can feel him slipping away from me and I'm reaching out to keep him safe. But I need to use this lesson in goodbyes to get ready for that one. My last child leaving the nest. And whatever comes next, is a mystery to all of us. Somehow I know that there will be women with me who will understand and get me through this. Because waiting on the other side of every goodbye is another chance to say hello and celebrate together.

Does Womenzwerk require that we master the art of goodbye? What do you think?

A salute to Easter Bunnies

Would there be an Easter without women?

It can't be a holiday without some reflection on how women make it happen. Easter, the baby sister of the major holidays, is one with a manageable number of tasks but let's face it...there wouldn't be an Easter without us.

First of all, it was women who figured out the whole resurrection thing in the first place wasn't it? Do we really think men would have had the foresight and caring to return to a grave in contemplative silence and with the idea of further caring for the remains of someone they loved? Doubt it. Would men have raised the alert or just talked among themselves and kept it quiet. I'm thinking we owe alot to these women (gee, isn't that other big Christian holiday in December pretty much based on a woman who didn't need a man to make that one happen either?).

But on a much more frivolous note, let's take a moment to celebrate the Mom's...oops, I mean the bunnies...who are making it all happen this weekend. Let's look at it in terms of total time commitment. Certainly something everyone knows is a scarce world resource these days.

1. Dealing with the family drama over where to have Easter dinner (even if it's his family and not yours)...1-2 hours.
2. Deciding on the menu and who's bringing what...1-2 hours
3. Buying outfits for everyone for Spring and/or Easter Sunday...4-8 hours
4. Buying the food...1 hour
4. Prepping the Easter eggs for coloring and actually coloring them...2 hours
5. Explaining the Easter story to the kids...1 hour at least three times...total 3 hours, add an hour for explaining why their friend next door who is Muslim isn't hunting eggs with them. (Add an extra hour for texting to your girlfriend to see if you got it right.)
6. Cleaning for the guests to come. Even if it's not at your house you feel like the house should be cleaned for the holiday...2 hours
7. Figuring out what to have in the Easter baskets, buying the stuff, trying to make it look cool...4 hours.
8. Sending cards to elderly aunts...30 minutes, but hey we're counting it because it's so cool you thought of that.
9. Easter Sunday churching, cooking, cleaning up, socializing with people you only see on holidays...8 hours (at least)
10. Actually focusing on what Easter might mean to you...10 minutes before you fall asleep.

OK Easter bunnies, congratulate yourselves. Somehow this week you found at least thirty hours of extra time just so everyone could say they had a happy Easter. Take five minutes and pat yourself on the back. If no one said thank you to you today, I will. You're the best bunnies I know!

So...Easter reminds us that Womenzwerk is never done. Does anyone really think men could keep holidays going without us?

Womenzwerk at the Zoo

Something tells me it's all happening at the zoo...
Is Womenzwerk a primal instinct?

I think Simon and Garfunkel had it right in the sixties with their song about the zoo, quoted above. On a family trip to the zoo, I looked in the mirror of women's existence and it wasn't pretty.

It was one of the first warmish days of Spring so the animals were all very active and outdoors. The otters were entertaining the crowd, the tiger was pacing and making eye contact and the monkeys were fighting over cauliflower in between rounds of "tag" around their space. But it was the bears that told the real story of life at the zoo. When we arrived the female brown bear was lounging on a log, soaking up the sun and looking very content. No doubt she had just put the kids to bed, finished catching dinner for her family and was finally getting some must needed moments to herself. As we watched, the male bear came up and booted her off the log with his paw, forcing her to move to another part of their area. She looked at him with what was certainly a bear glare and started to move away. Then, just to add insult to injury, he hoisted his right leg up in the air while seated and proceeded to fondle his bear man parts while God and all the visitors watched him. The female, now truly disgusted, moved down into a completely different area as far from him as she could get. This hit way too close to home.

I ask you, is this not typical of what we human animals go through on a regular basis? Which just leads me to wonder if the relationship between men and women, and the itch to be in charge and do all of the things we do as women is really a primal instinct. Maybe we just know in our bones that men will push their weight around but in the end, they will simply sit and scratch themselves while we take care of all the little things that need doing each day. Now, nothing against the men of this world, but clearly the Womenzwerk we do is holding society together and it seems we are hardwired to do it.

I have to say, later in the day the lions seemed to echo the lesson. The zoo volunteer told us that the females were really in charge of everything, but they let the male think he was king and let him sleep in the prime spot in the enclosure. If we are really hardwired to do it all and men are really hardwired to do what comes naturally, it puts Womenzwerk in a whole new light somehow. Is it somehow better to know that we might be doing this because we simply can't biologically function any differently? Or does it mean we're really living in our lowest, basic natures when we play these roles? Can we change? Do we want to?

So what do you think? Is Womenzwerk primal instinct or environmental pressure?

All I need to know about Womenzwerk I learned from Barbie

What did Barbie teach us and is it a good thing?

This is Barbie's 50th birthday week. Since Barbie and I are roughly the same age, I feel compelled to write this ode to all I learned from Barbie about women, for better or worse.

1. You can do anything as long as you have the right outfit.
Whether your Barbie wore fancy store-bought clothes or ones that you lovingly made her with your own hands, everyone knew that Barbie had to have the perfect outfit for every possible task or event. I find this to be a general truism about women. We can be incredibly strong, we can multi-task like crazy and we can be the most responsible person in the family...but we can't do it if we feel badly about ourselves and the way we look to the world. We spend a good deal of time steeling ourselves from the stress of our over-worked lives by putting on the face of what the world needs and wants to see from us. This is how we get by. Some might call it ingenuous. I call it a survival tactic. If we look and act on top of things, somehow it propels us to BE on top of things. It's not just the clothes, but they do help. Is this why so many of us drink too much wine, or is it a good thing?

2. Life is one big march in high, spiked heels and it's OK.
Barbie knew that the heels were ridiculous. She knew that her feet were morphed into permanently arched and aching shape. She knew that life could be tough, and her feet would hurt. But Barbie never lost her smile and her sunny disposition. She found a way to stand up straight (remember those little black metal stands?) and even (in the newer models) bend her legs to sit. Like Barbie, women learn to find hope in the hopelessness of life and to share hope and certainty with those who depend on them. When life throws you a foot wrenching pair of spiked heels, she taught us to at least find the joy in the fabulous things they do for your legs and carry on. It's what Barbie would do. But is it really Womenzwerk to be the bright spot for everyone no matter what?

3. Bad hair days happen.
I don't know about you, but my Barbie was perpetually hair challenged. It might be because I felt I could improve her look by washing it, or cutting it, or otherwise damaging her long blonde locks. Poor, Barbie. I've never seen a well-loved Barbie that didn't have bad hair. I think it's good to know that despite her otherwise fabulous gift for always making things seem upbeat and in control, even Barbie had issues. Sometimes because of the other things we've learned from Barbie, we try too hard to be perfect all of the time. It's just not possible. So when bad hair days happen, we've learned to put on our pink Barbie robe and slippers, grab a Coke and a pedicure, and hide away until we can face the next day. It's called a rest and we all deserve one once in awhile. Is it OK to hide when the world gets too scary for us?

4. Fast cars and fast boys can be fun.
OK...let's face it, Barbie was a dish. Between the Corvette and that dreamy Ken, she had it all. Well that and a body to die for. We all have a need to just go out and raise a little heck, have a little fun and not be serious. Even moms with careers and moms with little ones and moms of teenagers and moms with moms of their own to care for. Time out to just raise a little trouble is definitely what the doctor ordered once in awhile. If you've never had a time in your life, or a day in your year, to just let loose of your 'good girl'...give it a try. See if you don't feel better. (By the way, I have never forgiven my parents for refusing to buy me a REAL Ken doll. I did, however, have a groovy Corvette.) Do we take this lesson to an extreme sometimes or does it simply give us balance?

5. Everything is OK if you have a best friend or a sister.
Midge and Skipper were must haves if you were a Barbie fan in the day. Barbie knew that surrounding herself with other women who cared for her and understood her was the secret to a complete and fulfilling life. Sometimes and in some life stages we have a tendency to focus on work or husbands or children and forget that one of the most healing things we can do is to be there for each other and to reach out to our sisters, whether they be biological or in our hearts. Like Barbie, we are stronger for the unity of our sisterhood. I hope that you are reaching out to yours on a regular basis. On this point, I think the wisdom of Barbie is pretty undeniable.

Happy Birthday, Barbie! Whether or not we agree with your lessons, you taught us alot about being women and handling Womenzwerk.

So what do you think...did Barbie teach us things that helped us or hurt us?

Womenzwerk,Oprah and thongs

Do we discriminate against our fellow women based on weight?

I'm not happy with Oprah these days. I have to say that I may be in a distinctive minority on this issue, but I like Oprah with a little weight on. I think she looks frightening when she gets to her "ideal weight" and she seems so much happier when she's not feeling guilty about what her body does or doesn't look like. The whole mea culpa in her self-produced media about how she had a thyroid issue and lost her focus and balance just slays me. If she'd freaked out and committed an act of violence or insulted her guests on her show, I'd say she'd lost her balance. But just getting a little larger? I'm not seeing her in that much trouble here.

Maybe I'm not sensitive enough. My issues go the other way. Although today I endure a little middle-aged excess, I've never struggled with being overweight. I'm a recovered anorexic, having been skinny when skinny wasn't cool, and that might give me a different perspective. But it seems to me that it's women who refuse to accept women's varying body sizes. When I was skinny, my female friends and relatives would "cluck-cluck" around me and tell me I needed to eat, needed to look more like them. Back then, they didn't know that I had a disease that could actually mean I was unhealthy. All they saw was someone who was different. I was an outsider to all women's social circles and the subject of some nasty name calling and gossip. I imagine that women with plus-sized issues experience the same subtle rejection from their fellow women.

Last week, I bought some thong underwear and picked up the wrong size. When I brought it home I realized I'd picked up some extra-large thongs. My first reaction was to laugh out loud. What extra large sized woman wears thongs, I thought. Then I realized that I was being terribly biased. Why the extra large sized woman who doesn't want panty lines wears a thong, the same reason I do. How telling that moment was for me. I'm guessing Oprah is still wearing thongs. I wish she would use her significant influence to make it OK to be whatever size you are at any time in your life. I wish she would talk about her thongs.

So, what do you think...do women discriminate against other women based on body size?

Our stuff

Is it Womenzwerk to maintain the family stuff?

Right before my Mom died, she talked to me about her stuff. She wanted the oldest grandson to have her fancy clock. She wanted her great grandsons to have the Christmas train. She wanted me to have the silver. Mostly, she didn't want us to put all her beloved things in a garage sale, but she knew we would some day. My Mom lived alone for over twenty years and really didn't save a lot of extra stuff compared to, say, my husband's parents. But now it's my job to decide what to do with all the stuff of her life and I'm suffering from serious procrastination and can't seem to get it done.

The day of the funeral my brother and his family started sorting the things they thought we should save. My sister-in-law gave me wise women's advice which essentially concluded with the idea that anything historic should be saved. That includes darn near everything in that house. My brother wanted to save odd things like inexpensive trinkets from Mom's many travels. My nephews wanted to save the stuff left over in the house from their Dad's childhood and mine. I just want to pitch it all.

Is it my responsibility to save as much as possible, or to let it go as I'm beginning to let her go? Do I save the playbills from my parent's Chicago honeymoon in the forties because they have historical value? Do I save every letter my Dad sent from the war? OK, that seems reasonable to me. But will I ever read them or donate them, and will my kids care at all about them after an initial glance? Do I save my box of memories and photos from high school? My Girl Scout sash? Really, who cares at this point? Will my daughters just have to decide what to do with this crazy stuff when I die?

I know I'm procrastinating for several reasons. First, it's snowing again and that's a good excuse. Second, I miss my Mom every day and the house just seems like such a sad place to be. But mostly, I don't know what to do. I don't know what to keep and what to release to the universe. I really don't want to store all those memories and all that history in my awareness, in my karmic field or in my energy. Mom's let go. I need to, too. But how much is right and important to keep? And who can tell me? I know women vary on how they feel about this. My sister-in-law is a good example of the "save it" extreme. I feel the weight of the generations on my shoulders. I guess it's Womenzwerk to preserve the family heritage and memories and I'm afraid I'll mess it up. I'm waiting for any resource that might give me comfort on this subject. Or maybe I'm waiting for Spring.

So what do you think, how do women know the right mix of things needed to preserve the family history?

Be Prepared

Does Womenzwerk naturally make us crazy or really prepared?

I find it really funny that the long standing motto of the Boy Scouts is "Be Prepared". Perhaps it was developed by well-meaning Den Mothers who were steeped in the tradition of Womenzwerk and truly felt that they could teach boys to become attention-oriented young men who would plan ahead and begin to relieve women of the tedious responsibility of handling every precious detail of life. Nice try, ladies. I've yet to meet a current or former Boy Scout who really knew the meaning of being prepared. Instead, I've met many frustrated men and women who can't connect on what it means to be prepared for any situation.

Womenzwerk demands that we be constantly thinking ahead. When someone asks our husband if we want to go on a trip to the Bahamas. He says "yes", thinking of sunny beaches and rounds of golf. He calls us crazy when we hesitate for that split second of time about something that seems like a no-brainer to him. Our hesitation is based on what goes through our heads when we hear that same invitation. We think about what shape our suitcases are in, which of the kids need new shorts and bathing suits, what we'll need to do at Curves to get ready to be on a beach, who will water the plants, who can let the dogs out, whether the money is in the bank and how we'll reschedule the doctor's appointment we already have set for that week. We think about the work we'll have to do to catch up when we return, including the hundreds of e-mails at work and the mounds of laundry. Our anxiety peaks before we even get to the thought of Mai-Tai's on sunkissed beach chairs. Are we crazy? Is our never ending Womenzwerk robbing us of joy? Or are we the ones keeping it all together and simply being totally prepared?

The same thing happens around every holiday; every overnight visit from friends, family or our kids friends; and on every Sunday night as we lay out the week's clothes and make our to-do lists. Men, those Boy Scouts of old, seem to be much more centered. But if we simply acted more like men, would the rest of it just go away as they seem to think it would? Would it all just be handled? Would anyone care? I don't know the answers, but I really believe that Womenzwerk greases the skids of life and I do believe our attention to detail and ability to plan ahead would be missed by all. But then, maybe I AM crazy.

So, what do you think...are we crazy or just crazy prepared?

Super silly

Would a woman have delayed school the morning after the Super Bowl?

Seriously. So they delayed the start of school in Pittsburgh to somehow honor the late night partying of parents and presumably children, in celebration of the win the Steelers barely stole from Arizona in the Super Bowl? Are you joking me? This has to be an act of male silliness that ranks right up there with bodily function jokes in movies.

As all women know, the whole Super Bowl phenomenon is just another reason Womenzwerk has to be done. The pre-game grocery buying, the cooking, the preparatory house straightening and the late Sunday night clean up are all led by the women. Without us, there couldn't be any significant Super Bowl gathering and the men all know it. And we get up and go to work on time, regardless of how tired we are the next day.

As women, we recognize that even if our team wins and we stay up late and celebrate, our young children need to be in bed and anyone old enough to stay up is responsible enough to get up and function on Monday morning. I can't imagine that it was a woman who would condone the slippery slope of delaying the school day for something as frivolous as celebrating a football victory.

In this world where lots of things don't make sense, it is Womenzwerk to bring some sanity to our daily responsibilities, especially for our children. What example are we setting if we create excuses to blow off work and responsibility? What lessons are we teaching about accountability? Who called the delay of game on Monday morning? I have no doubt it was men.

So, what do you think? Was delaying school the day after the Super Bowl a bad or a good idea?

Womenzwerk at the Pump

Do we have a right to "mother" everyone we know? Even complete strangers?

Will our desire to mother everyone never end? I was pumping gas yesterday on the way to work when I noticed a truck full of men pull up. One of them, a younger man, jumped out of the truck to pump the gas and clean the windshield. It was probably around twenty degrees yesterday morning which is almost balmy for Michigan this year. I noticed his bright yellow t-shirt and went about my business.

A few minutes later, a woman just slightly older than me appeared at the opposite pump and shouted to the man in the yellow-T that he needed to get a coat on. She sounded exactly like she could have been his mother. I actually looked up to see if she had gotten out of the truck he had come from, and was reprimanding her son. One look at their faces and I knew, these two were total strangers.

When the young man didn't reply, the woman walked over to him and once again told him to get his coat on. The young man turned and looked at her as if she actually had some authority over him and responded that he had just left it in the car because he had traveled about an hour so far and had taken his coat off while driving. This is common practice for commuters in Michigan who get their cars warm and toasty over the long haul. She responded that she had traveled the same distance and had the good sense to put her coat on when she got out. She went on to explain that he could catch his death of cold in that yellow-T. He said yes ma'am, but his business was finished so he got back in his vehicle and drove away.

The woman, less than satisfied, came towards me looking for trouble. I smiled mightily and promptly tripped over the gas pump that was tailing out of my car. She reached out to catch me and told me to be careful. I said yes ma'am and finished my business at the pump. I felt that we had all just shared a moment.

A true hallmark of Womenzwerk is the need to mother others. After all, if not us, who? If not now, when? Is it the role of all women to mother everyone in our paths? I think it might be. At the very heart of Womenzwerk is the willingness to care for others and an astute sense of responsibility for others' welfare, and that is what motherhood has always been about. I've heard it said that this is deeply imbedded in the female hormonal system, but I'm not sure. I think our desire to perform random acts of motherhood is passed down from generation to generation of women. We help others help themselves, even when they aren't asking for it. We watch each other do this and then we take it upon ourselves to continue the work. We know, as this woman did, that people may initially ignore us but they do hear us and will respond in some way if we deliver motherly messages with authority, because the world wouldn't be the same without mothers and you can never have too many.

I followed this woman out of the station and onto the highway. I watched her cautiously and slowly navigate the icy roads. I saw her pause for slower drivers and make way for incoming traffic. I followed her for about fifteen minutes before out paths diverged. I felt comforted, somehow, by her concern for Mr. Yellow-T and her friendly driving, and I knew that I would mother others that day because of her example.

So, what do you think? Do women have a responsibility and a right to mother others?

Down Time

What do you do with your free time?

So what do women do when the Womenzwerk is at a low ebb and it's time to relax? Logic would say that we should spend this precious time in any activity that refreshes our soul and makes us happy. But let's get real.

Down time is a thing we experience between loads of laundry, cleaning the kitchen, driving the kids around, calling Mom and working in the workplace, the yard or the homeless shelter. Womenzwerk requires that our down time comes in spurts of a few hours, maybe a day and rarely an extended period. So when it hits us that we have time to unwind, we may suddenly need to come up with something really fun in about fifteen minutes that doesn't last more than two hours and can only involve any girlfriends or others who are available at that moment. Kind of limits the excitement.

Just trying to come up with something that will really make us feel great between our work can produce a weird sort of anxiety. Most days, and it's usually on the weekends, I just resort to naps. Naps are the one true source of bliss for me where I'm not thinking about anything that I have to do next. Of course, when I wake up, I realize I've wasted the two valuable hours of downtime where I could be doing the kinds of things Oprah recommends to balance and restore my soul. And then I'm stressed again as I launch into the rest of the day's to-dos. Is it just me? I'm interested to know how women find joy in the midst of a daunting amount of Womenzwerk.

Maybe the joy has to come within the framework of our essential tasks. Ways of doing the basic requirements of a responsible woman's day while feeling totally hopeful, joyful and relaxed. Maybe it's just the approach that matters. Snow White and Cinderella come to mind. But then, I've always enjoyed a good fantasy. Share the joy, let us know how you maximize your down time. Or any time. Let 2009 be the year we find hope and joy.

So, what do you think? Do you have any free time and, if so, how do you spend it?

Church Ladies

Will our daughters be willing to be self-sacrificing church ladies?

This is a shout out to all the church ladies who keep us sane. You know these gals. They are the ones who do all the womenzwerk at home and then go on to do it for every one they know. They are always there with a casserole, a hug, a smile and a prayer. They are the ones who greet you in the hallway of your childhood church after 40 years, and not only recognize you but embrace you, call you by name and remember the names of your parents and your children. They are the very best huggers on the planet. They seem to be completely tireless. They are heroic women with true servant's hearts. They know everyone and every story of community in their world.

These are the women who helped us say goodbye to Mom in the traditional Methodist post-funeral luncheon. They baked the cakes and served the potato salad. They set and cleared the tables and left us alone when we needed space. They quietly and completely transformed an empty parish hall into a place where love could fluorish, between bites of ham buns and sips of coffee. They knew Mom, too, so they shared our sorrow and our memories as they went about their caring business. Unlike the nurses and doctors and social workers I had spent weeks with before this point, these women were not trained professionals in the art of dying with dignity. These women were simply filled with love and a devotion to true womenzwerk...the nurturing of community and souls. And they escorted Mom to God as surely as the trained caregivers.

I wonder as I write this if there will be church ladies in the future? Will my daughter or her friends be selfless enough to pick up the gauntlet and give as truly and completely as these women? What if churches as an institution fade away over time as many predict they will? Who will provide the loving glue that holds us together as communities? Who will provide the continuity from generation to generation. Who will make the casseroles and dole out the hugs? This is true womenzwerk, ladies. Someone needs to carry it forward.

So, what do you think? Who will be the church ladies of the next generation? Do you think our daughters will provide this type of Womenzwerk? Will it be through churches or what?

Ms. Jr.

Why don't women name their children after themselves like men do? Should we?

I just realized that something unusual has happened in my family. My mother was a "junior". Why it took me this long to figure this out is a mystery to me, but I think it is truly unusual. Mom's name was Lorena and her mother's name was Lorena, making my mom Lorena Jr. Now, there was never any big deal made about this. We never put Lorena Zoss Jr. on any correspondence. I don't remember anyone referring to her as J.R. or "junior". I can't remember her ever even acknowledging it.

So I have to think about my grandmother who, in 1923, decided to break with tradition and name her daughter after herself. Grandma must have been a radical feminist for her time, and might even be considered one in our times. If anyone else knows of women named after their mothers please let me know. On reflection, Grandma was a piece of work. She once made a Greyhound bus driver drop her at my mother's front door in suburban Chicago...but that's another story.

I'm curious about this. Why is it that with all the wonderful relationships between mothers and daughters, and all the heroic things that women do, few women name their own children after themselves? Why does it seem perfectly logical to celebrate a man's accomplishments by passing his first name to his heirs but not for a woman? I suppose it could be buried in the tradition of a woman giving up her maiden name at the altar. In that case the female "junior" isn't a completely identical name. But in this culture where women retain their maiden names or use them for various purposes (like mine), is this a tradition we can start? Maybe all first born daughters should be "juniors" to reflect the enormous contribution made by the women before them. Isn't naming our children really Womenzwerk anyway?

So what do you think? Should we start the tradition of naming our daughters after ourselves?

Be the daughter

What is a "good daughter" anyway?

What does it mean when doctors and nurses tell me to "just be the daughter" as I try to care for my aging Mom? I thought I was being the daughter when I quizzed the doctor on what medications were really needed or asked the nurse to be sure to add lots of sweets to Mom's dinner tray. I thought the role of the daughter was to advocate like a pit bull for my Mom. In fact, Mom's friends all call me a "good daughter". They must be right, after all they have watched me in action for years. My brother calls me a micromanager, but what does he know? He's a man and he's thousands of miles away.

But maybe being a daughter is something different. Maybe it's really just about being the love in the grand equation of caregiving. Maybe it's not running the errands, or emptying the bed pan or changing the sheets. Maybe it's more about the silence that falls between words, when a hair is brushed off a sweating forehead or a hand is massaged with a favorite lotion. Maybe it's knowing just when to play the Lawrence Welk CD instead of the classical music. Maybe it's not even necessary to be physically present to be a daughter, but can be communicated via voice over the phone or even on planes of existence we can't consciously understand. Maybe it's just love. In the end that is all there will be between us anyway. No bodies, no sounds, no distractions...just love. Maybe it's time for me to just be the daughter. Maybe they are right.

So what do you think? What is the role of a "good daughter" as we get older?