Tanja Pajevic's Open Salon Blog

Let's Hear it for the Boys

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 17:06:31 -0400

With Father’s Day right around the corner, I’d like to take a few minutes to celebrate our men. Because as much as we complain about them, do we really ever tell them how much we appreciate them?

Why is that?

Well, I think it’s because we expect way too much of them, in the same way that we expect way too much from ourselves—far more than is humanly possible. Meanwhile, life goes on, and daily life grinds us down until one day, we find ourselves in the midst of some new drama, stressed to the gills and ready to explode. And when we do finally explode, guess who gets caught in the cross-fire?

Is this devotion, or what? Happy father's day, babe!

Bingo! Our poor little honey-pie, that’s who. Who’s stressed out about his own stuff and suffering his own worries, by the way. Not that you’d notice. Sigh.

So there’s two things I’ve realized recently. One is that there’s never enough time to get on top of everything, no matter who you are or what you do. If your children are young, you, my dear, will no doubt be drowning in angst at some point during this pretty little day. Maybe it’s the kids puking on you, maybe it’s the fact that you have no clean clothes, maybe it’s that there’s nothing to eat and no magical imp who’s going to step up to cook your dinner.

I hear you, sister. No matter how hard you’re scrambling, things are never going to magically fall into place (and if they do, it’s usually pretty damn short-lived, like, say 60 seconds). But that doesn’t mean we need to lash out and blame our honey-bunnies for all of this. Because the truth is, they’re working their asses off, too. We just don’t notice it.

Trust me on this one—I’m a serial offender. Every friggin time I go off on Ken about how disgusting and fraternity-looking our house has become and how come I always have to freak out before anyone will help me clean and while we’re at it how come I’m the only one who ever cleans anyway he’ll point out some of the other stuff he’s taken care of—things that I hadn’t noticed, of course. (Note: bonus points if you remembered that using words like always and never don’t actually help anything during an argument. Yeah! Isn’t this fun?!)

The problem (and probably why I didn’t notice all the stuff Ken had already done) is that I’m usually feeling so friggin overwhelmed by everything that still needs to be done that I can’t think clearly. Which means I’ve much become a raging lunatic who’s turned on her honey and is now looking at him like he’s the enemy. Instead of remembering that he’s my partner—and that yes, we got into this together 800 years ago, before the children lobotomized us both—I’m now looking at him with some kind of trapped animal vibe, seething a for-the-love-of-god-somebody-better-fucking-help-me-fix-this venom.

Yikes! If that's not trouble, I don't know what is.

Thankfully, I’ve started to catch myself every once in a while, stepping back and saying, Hey, wait a minute! I love this guy. He’s my partner, not my enemy. How about we try working together for a change, instead of just trying to rip each other to shreds?

The truth is, our men are dealing with a lot of the same shit we are. They’re working their asses off at home and at work, wishing they could see their friends, spend more time with their kids and hey maybe even get in a little free time every once and a while. And just like us, they’re realizing that perfection—on the home or work front—is pretty much impossible.

Just this week, I came across three articles addressing this lack of work-life balance for men, all of them riffing on Sheryl Sandberg’s recent book, Lean In, and talking about how men have never had the work-life balance we women crave. Now, I'm not trying to get into any finger-pointing her, just trying to point out--sing it with me, sister--that men are dealing with way more than we give them credit for.

Here are the articles if you're looking for a little more professional back-up:

Businessweek: "Alpha Dads: Men Get Serious About Work-Life Balance"

Esquire: "Why Men Still Can’t Have it All"

And an article in Money Magazine by Elain Pofedlt, which hasn’t yet appeared on their website, titled “Lean Out.” (Click here to read a related piece by Pofedlt in Forbes.)

Anyway. Like I'm a-saying, maybe it’s time we start cutting our hubbies a little more slack. Cause the truth is, they’re working their butts off just like we are, and making all sorts of trade-offs, just like we are. Sure, it’d be different if they were sitting out by the pool drinking brewskies all day. (Wait. Did those days ever exist?) But they’re working their butts off at work, then working their butts off at home, wishing—just like us—that there were a few extra hours in every day.

Plus—c’mon, let’s be honest—our men are pretty awesome dads. Don't you think? They’re doing a hell of a lot more than our dads (god love em) used to, back when men left all the child-raising to their wives.

So today, let’s step up and honor those dads. Today, let’s step up and honor our men.

The Root of Our Troubles--and What to Do About it

Thu, 4 Apr 2013 15:04:22 -0400

If there’s one thing I’ve learned this last year, it’s that most of our problems revolve around a basic—but devastating—assumption: when things fall apart, our upset can almost always be traced back to the underlying feeling that we're not being seen or heard. That we don't matter.

Let me give you some examples. Say I’m trying to tell my spouse about my day, but he’s busy checking his phone and isn’t paying attention. Or I’m chasing after my kid, trying to get him to do his homework but he’s absconded with the iPad and can’t seem to hear me. Or you’ve just gotten home from running errands for your wife, but instead of thanking you, here she is, at your throat, complaining that you didn’t get the right kind of bread, now did you.

Well, if you’re like me, pretty soon you’re going to start feeling pretty darn small and grumpy. Somewhere inside you, an evil little voice starts saying stuff like: your kid’s not listening. He doesn’t respect you. Your husband’s phone is more important than you are. No one’s listening to you. You don’t matter.

Hey, I get it. The truth is, almost every single time I get mad at my husband, somewhere inside me is an awful, yucky little feeling that I don't matter. And you know what? Every time I piss him off, I’m pretty sure that it's because my actions are screaming the exact same thing, telling him that he doesn’t matter.

So what do we do about it?

Simple. We put down our phones/work/to-do list/whatever else is jamming up our brain and we listen. We take a good hard look at the person standing in front of us and we give them our full, undivided attention. That’s right. Just listen, without interrupting, without trying to solve their problems and without thinking about what we’re going to say next.

Which is harder than it should be in our crazy-busy worlds. We get so distracted by work, by to-dos, by everything else we shoulda, woulda done that by the end of the day the thing that’s missing in most of our lives is connection. Real, live, deep connection.

But here’s the thing: connection is also the most important thing in our lives. Take anyone who’s facing a terminal disease or who’s survived some kind of life-altering event and ask them what’s most important, where they wish they'd spent more of their time and attention. Does anyone ever say work? Nope. At the end, when we’re facing that giant divider of death, love is always at the top of the list. As are our relationships with our spouse, our children and our friends.

And yet these are often the very things that get put aside during daily life, moved to the back burner for when there’s more time, when work eases up, when the stars align, etc, etc, etc.

This is where listening, real listening, comes in. If you do nothing else to change your relationship, take 5 minutes out of your day today to be present--fully present--with your spouse. Yes, that’s right—just 5 minutes. Five minutes of your undivided attention, with your actions telling this person that yes, you see them, yes, you hear them. Yes, they matter.

Then, if you're feeling super-motivated, try doing it with your kids. Or your co-workers, or your friends.

The truth is, so many of us go through our day feeling like nobody's truly seen or heard us. Especially at work. Especially at home.

(By the way, if you’re having a tough time with your kids, check out Howard Glasser’s All Children Flourishing--Igniting the Greatness of Our Children for a fuller explanation of how to apply this technique to a "problem" child.)

I used to think that I was the only one who would get frozen by this problem, stuck in the feeling that I didn’t matter. But over the last few months, I’ve come to realize that everyone—and I mean everyone—suffers at times from the feeling that they're not being seen or heard. It might come out at work, it might come out at home, it might come out in a particular friendship, but somewhere along the way, we all find ourselves struggling with the feeling that we don't matter.

It doesn’t matter who you are, what your socioeconomic status is or where you live--if you're living and breathing, you're going to bump up against this feeling at some point. In fact, when my mother was dying, I found this feeling popping up over and over again, with everyone I encountered--nurses, doctors or administrators. Then, when I started to find it popping up in them, I started acting differently. Instead of my usual argumentative approach when things got difficult (which always backfired, by the way), I started backing off, telling myself that I was going to just listen to this person for a few minutes before I said anything. Just listen.

What I found was this: the most difficult interactions quickly settled down, almost as if by magic. If I could go in with my ears wide open (instead of itching to prove I was right), and honor who that person was and what they needed to say before I said what I needed, our interactions went much more smoothly.

Let me give you an example. One afternoon, I had to have a meeting with a guy I didn’t particularly like. Something about this guy bugged me on a deep level and I often went into our meetings closed up and ready to fight. But on this particular day, we desperately needed to make some progress, so I went into our meeting determined to do things differently. For the first 10 minutes, I sat back and listened. It was hard to do, because I didn’t agree with half of what he was saying, but I shut my mouth and did my best to keep breathing. Just breathing. I did my best to let go of my expectations, with the knowledge that there would be room for me when he was done.

And there was. Once he was done talking, he’d visibly relaxed, and I was able to calmly tell him where I was coming from and what I needed out of our meeting. For perhaps the first time, we were really listening to each other and talking, and as a result of that, we were able to compromise in a way we’d never been able to before.

I don’t think this would have happened if we hadn’t both felt there was enough room for us both to be seen and heard.

Think about it: when you find yourself arguing with someone, how much of it comes down to just wanting to be seen and heard?

Someone cuts you off on the street. Fucker! How come he didn’t see me coming?
The cashier shortchanges you a dollar. How come this always happens to me?!
Your mother drives you crazy with her constant criticizing. Why can’t she see all the good things about me? Why can’t she see who I really am?
Your boss asks for your feedback, then ignores it. Asshole! He always thinks he’s better than me!
Your wife always talks over you at dinner. What a jerk. Why isn’t there room for me?

And then there’s that friend who’s always emailing with a problem; your mother, who’s always calling to tell you something inane; or your mother-in-law, who’s always agitating to get your attention. What do they all have in common? Simple: they all want to matter; they all want to be seen and heard.

Last week, I watched Brene Brown interviewed on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday and heard Oprah confirm my theory. In all her years of interviewing, she said, the one thing she’s learned is that everyone wants to be seen and heard. Everyone wants to matter.

Everyone. Your boss, your neighbor, your husband, your child, your mother.

And you.

How to Save Time, Lower Frustration and Reboot Your Marriage

Sat, 1 Dec 2012 12:12:29 -0500

Frustrated and pissed off at your spouse? Wondering how you’ll get through another stressful, jam-packed holiday season?

Sure you are. We all are. It’s tough enough to stay on top of things during normal times, but how are you supposed to do that during times of high-stress, when you’ve got 65 daily to-dos that need to crossed off before noon?

When the shit hits the fan—as it always does in some form or another—most of us start to feel pretty damn uncomfortable inside. Some people deal with that feeling by getting angry, others by shutting down; some go shopping, or drinking; others dive into work or a giant carton of ice cream. But the thing we all have in common is that in some way or another, we’re all trying to escape, if just for a moment, that yucky feeling.

According to Buddhist teacher/author Pema Chodron, one of the other common ways we try to avoid that feeling is by blaming others.

And when you’re married, that means you’ve got an automatic target in front of you any time something goes awry. Now, I’m not saying we lash out at our spouse on purpose—it’s just plain ‘ole human nature, friend. We're all just looking for something that will help ease the pain.

But the problem with blaming is that it doesn’t actually solve anything. Sure, I might feel better for 3 seconds after I’ve blamed Ken for our trashed house, but then I start to feel even crappier for ruining his day. Oh my poor, long-suffering spouse.

So how do we get ourselves out of this damn mess?

Well, we take a step back, for starters, and try and figure out what it is we’re really after. What is it we really need, at the most basic level? Is the messy house really what's sent me over the edge, or could it possibly be a desperate need for kid-free time?

To get to the real root of the problem, and not just take the most obvious, easy out, we need to get quiet. Maybe we go for a walk. Or meditate. Take 5 minutes for ourselves and stare at a wall. Write in a journal.

Once the chaos around us starts to settle down, we’ll begin to be able to figure out what’s truly bothering us.

Maybe you realize what you really need is a little time to yourself after work. Or a night out with your buds. Someone to come in and clean your house—just once!—before the holidays. Maybe you need to go get some exercise and burn off some steam. Or get away from the kids for two hours.

Whatever you need to maintain (or reboot) your sanity, write it down. Write them all down. Keep going, even if your list is giant. You can always whittle it down, don't worry. And if nothing else, you can just aim for the top one or two things on your list.

These are your non-negotiables.

Now, the second, trickier step is actually asking for what you want.

Which seems like it should be easy, right? I mean, hell, we're all adults here. Ahem. Sadly, I’ve talked with quite a few folks this week who, just like me, have gotten stuck in that place of not being able to ask for what they wanted. Maybe it’s because they thought their spouse would say no; maybe it’s because they didn’t think they deserved it—whatever it is, denying our non-negotiables sets us up with the same, awful problem. We start to feel like crap because we’re not doing what we need to do for ourselves.

Which means we start lashing out at…bingo!...those we love most. Or we start drinking, smoking or eating our way through the night to get through that yuckiness we’re now feeling inside.

Hey, I’m not judging—I’ve done it all. These past few weeks (which have been a giant mess of caring for my sick mother after an emergency surgery went awry, then trying to balance that caretaking with my kids, spouse, etc.), I’ve stepped up my alcohol consumption, started eating like a banshee and spent a shitload of money. It might suck, but it’s human nature, and sadly, none of us are immune to it.

Now, here's where you think the story's over, right? Sadly, no. The freakouts don't stop just because we've tried to medicate them, they just keep going. Until we really snap.

Like I did yesterday, right before our friends stopped by for dinner, when I started blaming Ken because I was feeling so stressed out. Beautiful, right? If I’d been more dialed in, I would have realized that I desperately needed some time to myself before they came by, but I wasn’t, and therefore I didn’t. Instead, I started blubbering about not being able to take care of one more human being, and by the way, could we just order a pizza?

Thankfully, my friends were kind enough to look past my giant freakout—which, if you’re friends with me, you learn quickly enough—and we were able to get down to the task at hand, which was relaxing and trying to have a bit of fun.

Anyway, over the course of this ridiculous drama, I finally realized that the other reason I was so nuts was because I hadn’t been writing. For, like, 6 weeks. See, nearly every time I get crazy-ungrounded like this, I look up and realize that weeks, if not months, have gone by since I’ve written. It happened when I worked a job that took up all of my free time, leaving me with no time to write, and it happened after both of my kids were born, and I stopped writing for months. So, for the 896^th time in my life, I once again realized that writing is one of those things I need to do on a semi-regular basis if I am to remain sane.

Meaning that it’s one of my non-negotiables.

So why was I so damn afraid to ask for it? Because we’d just lost a sitter and Ken was already putting in a ridiculous amount of time with the kids so I could go care for my mom. How could I ask him for anything else when he already had so little time to himself?

Simple. Because if I didn’t, I would turn into a raging Hulk. Oh, wait! I already had!

Sigh. You think I’d have learned this years ago, wouldn’t you? I would’ve thought so, too. But this shit always seems to pop up over and over again until we get it right.

Which is why I finally started writing again today. And now the nice little benefit of taking care of myself is that my family will finally start feeling better, too, if only because they're not around such a grouch all the time.

Plus, did I tell you how much better my marriage looks when I'm happier? What a surprise.

So, how about you? What is it you need to do to maintain your sanity? What are your non-negotiables?

How to Use Anger to Reboot Your Marriage

Thu, 6 Sep 2012 12:09:14 -0400

So how many times have you gotten angry--I mean really pissed--at your spouse? And how many times have you yelled at him, demanding that he change, that he do this instead of that, that for the love of God he stop driving you crazy.

Well, if you're human, I'm guessing it's happened at least once. If you're like me, it happens at least once a week.

Cause it's tough to balance marriage with work with house with young kids--it's a hell of a lot of work, and before you know it, you're falling behind in something. And when you're feeling pressured, it's just so darn easy to snap, now isn't it?

But of course we don't snap at our boss, or at that rude clerk who really could've used some nicer manners. We usually wait till we're at our edge, and then we snap at the people we love the most. Like our kids. Or our spouse.

Sound familiar?

Don't worry, you're not alone. We all get pissed beyond belief. But I'm here today to tell you that your anger isn't a bad thing, like you've probably been led to believe--it can actually good thing.

Because it's a giant clue that something in your life is off track. It's a neon sign telling you that something needs to change.

And here's the real kicker--it's probably not your marriage.

Yeah, you read that right.

Your marriage--or your spouse--might just be the most obvious target when something's getting your down.

In her memoir This Is Not The Story You Think It Is, Laura Munson dealt with a nightmare most of us hope we don't ever have to face: her spouse telling her that he no longer loved her and wanted a divorce.

But Munson didn't believe it. After nearly two decades with her hubby, she knew her spouse better than he knew himself. And she realized that he wasn't unhappy with her--he was unhappy with his life.

So instead of giving in and allowing him his divorce, she decided to give him time to get his shit together. She took care of the kids and the house and let him focus on figuring what the hell he needed to do to make himself happy.

Now, I'm not suggesting you do anything this crazy. I'm just pointing out that a lot of times we blame our spouse for our misery when it could be 800 other zillion things going on in our lives. Like a sucky job, or the realization that we would've been happier as a veterinarian, not a salesperson.

Or maybe your crisis isn't even anything that big. Maybe you're just exhausted from having been up with a sick child for the past 3 nights, or you're wishing you'd completed that big report when you still had a little wiggle room instead of waiting for the last minute.

Hey, I get it. I've been there, and I continue to be crazed more times than I can count. And the one thing I've learned while writing this blog is that most of the time I'm pissed off at Ken, it has more to do with me than with him.

Like today, when I flipped out at 4:oo p.m. because I was stuck at home with a sick kid and had fucked around all weekend when I'd wanted to use that time to catch up with work. I wasn't mad at Gabriel, of course--the poor kid's got croup, and is just miserable. But there was something about getting back from the doctor, then picking up Nico from school and having to balance one bouncing-off-the-wall kid with one sick kid that pushed me over the edge. Especially since I hadn't taken care of my own stuff over the weekend.

After I'd stomped around for a bit and made life unpleasant for my poor work-from-home spouse, I finally realized what was really getting me. I was mad at myself for always putting my priorities on the back burner, for telling myself I'd finish this report after we got back into the swing of school, after we settled in with our new sitter, after I answered the latest batch of email, after I completed the last round of school meetings, after I cleaned the house, etc., etc., etc.. Which was fine until Gabriel got sick right after Nico, meaning that I lost a week and a half of work, and I suddenly found my back up against a wall.

Was this Ken's problem? Absolutely not. And it certainly wasn't Gabriel's, either, for being sick.

It was mine, for not prioritizing better in the first place, and for leaving my most important projects on the back burner. It was mine for continually giving away my time and energy to people who don't even ask for it, and for putting their needs ahead of mine more times than I can count.

Thankfully, Ken knows me well enough to know that when I'm flipping out at him, I usually need a time out to go get my shit together and figure out what's really going on. And thankfully, it doesn't usually take too long of a time out for me to realize it's not Ken I'm mad at, it's myself.

The trick, of course, is figuring out what's important to you before you erupt like Mt. Vesuvius. Meaning that you know what your values and priorities are so that you're not compromising them on a daily basis, like so many of us were encouraged to do in order to be a "good" kid at home or at school. And like so many of us spend our lives doing--at least until we break down and have a midlife crisis, like Laura Munson's husband.

Let's figure out what's important to us now, before it's too late.

Take-action challenge: What are your top values? Priorities? If you haven't identified them lately, take a few minutes to write down your top 20 values. (In fact, you might want to do this every few years, as our values often change.) Once you've identified your top 20, take a few more minutes to whittle them down to your top 5. Then ask yourself whether or not you're living these values, or whether you've strayed off course somewhere.

If you get stuck, use this list of values (compiled by Steve Pavlina) to help you get started.

Super-duper take-action challenge: Once you've done this exercise, sit down and discuss your findings with your spouse. This is a great way of making sure that you're headed in the same direction. If not, it's a great way to address any potential problems now, before they spiral out of control.

Good luck!

Why Free-Range Parenting Isn't Looking So Bad Lately

Thu, 30 Aug 2012 17:08:21 -0400

So even though school's finally started, I'm still not getting a break. My older son's already home sick from school, my younger one's only been in preschool for 2.5 hours this first week and I'm quickly losing my mind.

The funny thing about all this is that last week I wrote a post over at Ed News Colorado about how tricky all these school-year transitions are for me. In that post, I lamented losing our old nanny and talked about how sad I was feeling that my younger son was starting preschool.

I got all sorts of emails after that post telling me how happy people were that their kids had started school and they finally had some time to themselves. And--OK, OK, I'll admit it--once I finally got over my fears and worries about this most recent round of transitions, I was starting to feel the same way.

Except that I'm still waiting on that free time.

In the meantime, my kids have been acting out like crazy.

Which just reinforces the question I've been struggling with lately: Am I fucking up my kids by giving them so much damn attention?

In her book I Feel Bad About My Neck, Nora Ephron talks about how much parenting has changed since her kids were young, and laments that parenting has now become a verb (54). I found this idea echoed in Pamela Haag's Marriage Confidential, when she suggests that in the past generation, kids have moved from the periphery of the family to the center (or, as she says, "from folding chair to throne" [114]).

Now, I'd go a step further and say that, in this day and age, parenting has become

a) a full-on contact sport,

b) one of today's most cutthroat competitions,

c) totally frigging crazy-making

d) all of the above.

What do you think? Do you buy the idea that our kids have become the center of the universe, or does just hearing this irritate the hell out of you?

I have to say that for along time, I wasn't so sure where I stood on this issue. Like a lot of parents out there, I wanted to raise my kids differently than I was raised. Namely, I wanted to teach them to honor their ideas and feelings, not to mention who they were in the world.

Then my kids started acting like total heathens/pre-teens, making me wonder what the hell's in store for me once they really do hit puberty. (Although, in all fairness, I can trace at least some of this behavior back to the Captain Underpants books Nico got for his birthday. In the past two months, I've heard 8,765,347 jokes about poop and pee, most of which were delivered during mealtimes. God almighty.)

And then, of course, they really started acting out during a recent trip to see Ken's family--you know, one of those times it suddenly becomes insanely important that you kids act somewhat normal and show at least some manners.

So I've been kind of wondering what the hell I need to do to dial things back a bit. I mean, I realized a long time ago that losing our nanny and starting with a new sitter could be a bit tricky for them, as could the start of school. So I was doing my best to cut them some slack. Right? Right?!

Except that they weren't cutting me any slack. If anything, they were just acting up more. Which kept building in insanity until we took the kids out to dinner to celebrate Gabriel's first day of preschool and had the worst. dinner. out. ever. Sobbing, crying, temper tantrums, you name it. In fact, by the time we made it back to the car, I swore I'd never again take them out to dinner! No sirree! Not until they learned how to behave! Not until they learned some manners!

In short, I lost my shit.

My head started spinning around like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. And it didn't stop. For days.

Know what I'm talking about?

(Oh, come on. I know I'm not the only one.)

Now, the good news is that I finally got my act back together and did my best to repair it to my kids (I'll explain how in my next post). The bad news is that the whole damn thing made me realize that we parents are probably the first people to break our children's hearts.

Which is one hell of an awful realization.

So that's where I was at the other day when I saw a woman tell her son "great job!" for sitting down.

Let me clarify that she didn't ask him to sit down, nor was she giving him any kind of directive. He simply told her that he was going to sit down, she said OK, and then when he sat down, she said "great job!"

Now, I'm not trying to get on this woman. I've done all sorts of similarly ridiculous stuff, and it's probably why my kids feel the need to tell me every single thought that crosses their mind. All the damn time, which is why I've been craving so much silence lately.

All of which has made me wonder: at what point does such validation become too much?

At what point does all this attention we're giving our children become too much?

And: at what point does the incessant attention that our children expect in return become too much?

Which leads me back to the title of this post--that free-range parenting isn't looking so bad to me lately. I never wanted to become the helicopter parent I've become, but I'm not so sure I'd let my 9-year-old ride the subway by himself in New York, either.

Please, for the love of God, tell me there's something in the middle.

Anyone? Anyone???