Category Archives: Sisterhood

Aging, Body image, Employment, Female Empowerment, Fun, Girlfriends, Humor, Middle Age, Sisterhood, Weight

Weight Schmeight

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A couple of months ago, when I was still employed, my co-worker Maureen, laughing her head off, presented this book to me. She had discovered it while sorting through donations for the thrift store portion of the non-profit we worked for.

This, I think, is one of the simple things in life to treasure: working with someone who likes and appreciates you. Someone who’s thoughtful, generous, and knows how to make you laugh. I just love this woman. She always lightened my mood.

I read this book shortly after she gave it to me.

It’s important to note that the author, Wendy Reid Crisp, wrote this in 1995. Because of that, some of her commentary is not necessarily applicable or relatable, in my view, to the upper middle-aged women of today. Like me.

Yet there were some bits and pieces that struck a chord with me.

Here’s one excerpt that I have a little something to say about:

“I’m not going to….3. Introduce body parts as topics of conversation.

In New England, there’s a group of women in their sixties who have been friends for forty years and who meet annually for a long weekend at a good spa. Their first event, on Friday night, is an “organ recital”. Everyone recites ad nauseam the state of her organs-heart, uterus, lungs, kidneys-and other anatomical conditions. As it should be, for the rest of the weekend the subject of personal health is taboo”.

I love this. Having a group of friends who get together yearly at a spa sounds fabulous! I’ve had this notion for a while now that someday, I’ll have a girls weekend. My sister will be there along with my “bonus” sister (Hubs’ sister), along with a couple of my girlfriends and a few cousins. We will sip sangria in the mornings, jam out to rocking tunes, and spend time in a pool or lake lounging on giant inflatable flamingos. We will dance, we will laugh, and we will raise a little hell.

It will be epic.

But there’d be one catch: at my girls weekend, on Friday night, we will engage in newfangled version of Ms. Reid-Crisp’s “organ recital”. There will be a designated amount of time (not to exceed one hour) during which we are allowed to freely discuss all things related to our weight. We can bitch about our muffin tops. We can talk about the pros/cons of intermittent fasting. We can swap Keto recipes. But when the timer goes “ding” (yes I will bring a timer) that’s that, ladies.

I might even bring a big old jar that those in the group who utter a word about their weight at any point after our Friday night “recital” will be required to put a dollar in. Kind of like a “sear jar”. All monies collected could later be donated to Planned Parenthood or another non-profit that benefits women.

I say all this because I detest the conversations we women always seem to engage in about our bodies. Our weight issues. It bores me. It seriously irritates me. I don’t like how when one woman will look at a perfectly good tray of delicious cupcakes and make some comment like “I need one of those like I need a hole in my head”. Because then, I feel like I need to “own” the fact that I’m a little fat. Probably 10-15 lbs over what I “should” be based on my height. I always feel compelled to respond by saying I don’t “need” a cupcake either.

Like “hey girlfriend, I’m fat too!”

I just find this troubling. There’s so much more to us women than how we look in our jeans. Or how we think others think we look in our jeans, I suppose.

And there’s so many more interesting topics of conversation, right? The books we’ve been reading, the vacations we’re planning, the new job we are applying for, the state of the world, our favorite movies, who’s pissing us off at work, who’s pissing us off at home, caring for aging parents, fun experiences we’ve shared together, and so very much more.

Sometimes inspiration comes from an unexpected source. Thank you Maureen, and thank you Ms. Reid-Crisp.

***Featured Image courtesy of https://www.healthygirl.co.za/20-healthy-girl-body-positive-quotes/

Birthdays, Childhood, family, Fathers, Gems, Gratitude, Humor, Love, Positivity, Sisterhood

The Brightest Gem

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Her name is Kelly. Or, as my Dad often called her “Kel-Kel Poo Poo”. She is my one and only big (biological) sister.

I’ve no idea where Dad got the idea to call her this. I think it’ll forever remain a mystery, as Dad unfortunately passed a few years ago. For the record, he often called me “Rhoda-Joda”. I think the silly names he came up with for all of us was one of his many ways of expressing his love for us.

Kelly and I, ready to partake in the Bloody Mary bar to celebrate our Dad’s second birthday in the afterlife. Babe loved a good Bloody Mary with a “snit” of beer to chase it down.

I don’t know where I’d be without Kelly. She is 8 1/2 years older than me (hard to believe that seeing the picture of us here, right?). She was continuously looking out for me and supporting me as I grew up. I was in awe of her as a kid and still am.

She was the one who regularly sent me care packages when I was away at college. They were filled with random, fun things, like candy, holiday window clings, note pads and other doo-dads. It always made me feel so special, so loved, when I opened them up. I doubt that I ever properly thanked her for them at the time.

I started writing this post on her birthday, November 10. Of course she was working that day. The woman is a work horse and always puts others before herself. I’ll be so happy for her, in another year or so, when she’s able to retire and get much-deserved time to relax and pursue all of those things that give her so much joy, like spending time with her beautiful twin grandsons and traveling with her husband.

It could be said that I owe Kelly my life. I remember hearing stories from when she was about 11 and had to baby-sit me sometimes. She dreaded those times, because our brother, who was just shy of 2 years older than her and had ADHD, delighted in teasing me to the point of tears. She was the one who calmed this bawling and sweaty toddler down during those times.

Kelly is the big sister every little sister wishes they had. She let me tag along with her and her girlfriends when she was in high school. She appointed me “junior” bridesmaid when she got married in 1979. She let me spend weekends with her and her new husband (and eventual baby boys) during the summers. At the time, they lived across from a small resort where we would rent paddle boats and cruise around little Lax Lake. She worked as a waitress back then, and sometimes I would get to hang out at the restaurant with her and her funny friend and co-worker Karen. So many sweet memories.

As she lived in closer proximity to them, Kelly was the sibling who took on the role of managing our parents lives as they got older. She was our family’s rock as Bonnie and Babe’s health deteriorated and for that I owe her a debt of gratitude.

Kelly is also my rock. She’s the first one I call when I have news to share, whether it’s good or bad. It’s fair to say she is the brightest Gem in my life.

For any of you that are blessed to have a “Gem” of a sister like I do, you understand that all I’ve expressed in this post honoring her merely scratches the surface. I’m grateful for Kelly and for the opportunity to have this blog where I can express that gratitude.

Alphabet Soup Challenge, Childhood, family, Friendships, Fun, Humor, Life, Music, Sisterhood, Travel

Alphabet Soup Challenge: F is for Fascination

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When I started to ponder what word beginning with “F” I wanted to write about, I started with “Fashion”.

I was going to write a fun post about how, because of this damn pandemic , I miss having places to go where it isn’t out of place to wear a cute summer dress (like the one below purchased from Kid #2’s online store). I was going to share how my parents owned a women’s clothing store in the 80’s and early 90’s which clinched my love of fashion.

Citrus skater dress from my kid’s online shop

But my favorite 80’s song kept coming up in my “songbrain”.

This song got me thinking about Lisa, the foreign exchange student from the UK who lived with us for the ’83/’84 school year. So I decided to pivot on my word choice for this post.

That school year was the only one that came anywhere near being fascinating for me. Lisa’s placement in our home shook up our family dynamic. I was suddenly not the only child in our home. I now had someone my age to talk to, laugh with, and engage in shenanigans with.

Lisa and I in 1984

Lisa was always up for having fun; that is what made her extended stay with us such a bright spot in my life. Sometimes she’d sneak off and create a weird display on my bed with random items found in my room for me to find later. She was so excited when she made us “Shephard’s Pie” for the first time. It was a favorite of the Brits, she said.

Then there was that time when she surprised me with a stiff cocktail using my parent’s liquor when they were out of town. Despite having a British teenager who was of legal drinking age back home, they foolishly kept all of their liquor under the kitchen sink. It’s amazing how trusting Bonnie and Babe were.

Do you ever look back on your youth and think that about your parents?

Speaking of liquor, I’ve always been fascinated at the idea of having a pint or two at a traditional English pub. Hearing all those lovely accents and soaking up the atmosphere.

It seems to me such a laid back, lovely place to visit. Touring castles and checking out vibrant markets in little villages would be my jam. As a life long Beatles fan, I would be especially fascinated by touring Abbey Road or any other Beatles themed venue.

The most fascinatingly ridiculous thing is that I am 53, have both my “sister” Lisa and her husband, along with a lovely niece (and her two daughters and charming Puerto Rican husband) who all live in England and yet I’ve never been.

Do any of you have places you’ve always been fascinated with but have yet to travel to? Please share in the comments!

Header image courtesy of https://www.vexels.com/vectors/preview/187516/flower-letter-f-typography-design

Bullying, Grief, Humor, Music, Names, Sisterhood

My First Post about Names

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Perhaps weirdly, I have a lot to say about names. See above title. I’m certain this will not be a one-off topic for me on this blog.

Think I’ll start with the obvious. My name: Rhonda. My mom told me she named me after a movie star named Rhonda Fleming. I don’t know much about her beyond that she had red hair. Hold on a sec…

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Rhonda Fleming-ain’t she a beaut? Geez, I hope all that straw didn’t end up in her nether regions!

Of course there’s that dumb Beach Boys song, you know the one, which about 60% of the people that meet me for the first time feel compelled to sing to me (like the guy checking us out at PetSmart yesterday).  One of our neighbors is also a Rhonda and she actually has this song as her ring tone on her cell phone. Having the name Rhonda, while I’m  pretty neutral about how I feel about it now at 52, kind of sucked growing up.

There were 4 other Rhonda’s between my class and the class ahead of me. In a school system that had a mere 500 (give or take) students in total. Similar to that dumbass show “The Bachelor”, there was a Rhonda D., a Rhonda T., two Rhonda S’s., and a Rhonda K (that would be me). I never figured what that was all about, all these moms sipping their Tabs and playing Bridge in the late 60’s being all un-original about naming their babies. The worst though was the nickname bestowed upon me by a tall, gangly, obnoxious kid named “Todd”. He greatly enjoyed calling me “Rhon-duh”, emphasis on the “Duh” as in “Duh-brain” (a clever off-shoot of “Rhon-duh”).

Here’s some more names I have important commentary on:

Joan. One Joan I know is my daughter’s soon to be ex MIL. I had an issue with her from the day I met her. In front of me and Hubs, she presented my daughter with a “special” necklace with the word “daughter” engraved on it. Made my blood boil. In retrospect, I think it was her way of softening my daughter to her, as that was the fateful night we nor only first met but also starting planning the wedding between our daughter and her son (there is a story to be told of that night for sure).

Then there’s another Joan, one of my mom’s old Bridge pals from back in the day. After my mom passed away in February, my sister and I split the sympathy cards up so that sending the thank you’s wouldn’t be on just one of us. We are fair with each other like that (side note: I freaking love my sister! She’s coming to visit us this week. Yay!).

So anyway, I found Joan’s card. No address. This frustrated me no end while I was trying to get this task completed (she wasn’t the only one who failed to furnish their address). So I decided to go ahead and find her address online. I thought that would be easy peasy.  Simple. Efficient. It wasn’t. I checked with two different websites that said they didn’t charge (yeah, right, sucker!) and of course was simply told that she was “found”. But no specific address was made available to me, just the city and state where she lived (like hello! I knew that already, people!).  I gave up and later ended up finding it another way (she owns a business-forgot about that!) online. Ever since, every single fucking time I open up my Chromebook, I get these pop ups with lines like “are you still searching for Joan”? One even, I swear to God, included a little picture of Momo (you know, that urban legend/internet hoax that really really dumb middle schoolers have apparently bought into). I guess they thought they could scare me into paying them to dig up Joan’s address for me after all this time I’d been searching?

 

Image result for momo
I present to you, Momo

In a previous post,  I mentioned how my mom used to love to sing to me all the time when I was little, despite not really being able to carry a tune. I have fuzzy memories of her when I was probably 4 or 5, when I would beg her to sing me “name” songs. They ran the gamut between “Julie do ya love me?”, to “I’ve been working on the railroad” (Dinah won’t you blow, Dinah won’t you blow, Dinah won’t you blow your horn was the chorus), to “Laurie (strange things happen)”.

Let me leave you with my personal favorite “name” song, with the extra special bonus of interpretive dance. Enjoy!

 

Humor, Love, National Sister Day, Sisterhood, Women

National Sister Day

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Did you know there happens to be a very big Holiday happening today? It’s National Sister Day! And a perfect excuse for this blogger to express her love and appreciation for her sister and her “sisters”.

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So, I only have one biological sister. Her name is Kelly and she’s 8 years older than me. She is also a very humble and fairly private person. In many circumstances, I would say she is easily embarrassed. So instead of calling her saintly, my protector, or my biggest life role model because I totally could, I’ll keep it simple.

Kelly is generous. She is a fabulous shopper, and shops year round for items to present as gifts to everyone she loves. And she has great taste in clothes and jewelry, which I like to think I got from her. Kelly is kind. She wears her heart on her sleeve and empathizes with people when they’re in pain. She possesses a great sense of fun and is always open to trying new things. She is strong. She pushes through life with a sense of purpose and goodwill, no matter the obstacle. I love her with all my heart.

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Me and Kel-Kel Poo Poo, 2010. Isn’t she lovely?

I am also abundantly blessed with other, non-biological sisters. They all hold a special place in my heart.

I hit the in law “jackpot” when I married Hubs. Not only because my MIL and FIL are the most kind, generous, thoughtful people in the world, but because of Mary Alice. Mary Alice, Hub’s younger sister, is a sweet, beautiful, smart, fun loving spirit who I adore. She and I enjoy doing lots of “girly” things together, like shopping, eating out, drinking good quality red wine, and talking about boys together.

When I was 17, my folks thought it would be a grand idea to take in an AFS (American Field Service) student for a year.  I was beyond excited to play at being a big sister for a year. Her name was/is Lisa and she’s from England. When she came off the plane in the summer of 1983 with her cool British accent, super stylish short blond hair, and tight cropped jeans, I knew she was going to be super cool. And she was. And still is. She brought a sense of fun and adventure to every day of my junior year in high school. She cracked us up with her imitations of how we Minnesotans spoke. She was the instigator of such shenanigans as conning me into drinking booze from my parents liquor cabinet (aka the space under the kitchen sink-man these people were trusting!) whilst they enjoyed their vacation. Good times. Good times indeed!

Gail was my “big sister” in our sorority during our college years. She had this superpower of always having my back, like when she would drag my drunk ass out of the bar after “Thirsty Thursday” so I could avoid getting lost on my way back to the sorority house or heaven forbid kidnapped and thrown into the Mississippi River. Or when she got into verbal fisticuffs with Hubs to ensure his intentions with me were pure. They ended up being great pals. As I mentioned in a recent post, Gail passed away from cancer 5 years ago, at the age of 48. God, I miss that woman so much. And cancer seriously bites the big one.

Sara is the “sister” that I’ve known the longest (besides Kel Kel PP) and she is my dearest friend. She was also in my sorority and one of my many roommates over the span of 3 years in the sorority house. She was the one who officially introduced me to Hubs (whilst the three of us were donning sheets togas after one of those crazy frat parties.) She and I were together, partying with a group of our friends at her family’s cabin when she met her now husband.  She and her husband are our closest and oldest couple friends. We treasure them (and their spawn) like family. Sara and I have shared so much together. The trials and tribulations of jobs/careers, the stress of relationships with crappy co-workers, the angst of mothering daughters (we both have two, but they are very far apart in age), and so much more. We were in each other’s weddings. She is simply the best.

So, to all you blogging sisters and bloggers with sisters and plain old sisters with sisters, I  wish to you the best National Sister Day ever!