I’m a pretty busy person, to put it mildly. If you’re a regular reader, you know this already. If you’re new (welcome!), just know that I don’t have idle time very often because I am always running in five or six different directions simultaneously, while juggling. It’s not often that I can just hang out, just for fun. Although events (planning and attending) are a big part of my life these days and I immensely enjoy seeing friends old and new at huge, noisy gatherings, the experience of a non-stop-laughing hang-out session with a friend or two has become almost totally foreign to me.

Yesterday I was reminded how much I need that in my life.

My sister and I headed over to Jen’s house for lunch. (You may know her as @thenextmartha) Actually, we didn’t really go for lunch. I mean, we ate lunch there and it was marvelous (paninis and soup!), but the main attraction–besides Jen, of course–was the cotton candy.

That’s right. Jen has her own cotton candy machine.

Over the course of our two-hour visit, we laughed a lot and made big plans to get Jen to New York for BlogHer by having a cotton candy stand this spring. (Jen: I figured out that you will only need to sell about 700 cotton candy balls to pay for your conference ticket and airfare!) We talked about funnel cakes and popcorn and corn dogs and carnies. We talked about her big…mantle, which is still set up for Christmas and is a sight to behold.

And we ate cotton candy. Lots of it.

Thanks for having us over, Jen. It was the perfect cure for what’s been ailing me. Let’s not wait so long for the next get-together! *checking calendar right now*

If you are not reading this on Suburban Scrawl or your RSS reader, then it's been plagiarized!

Thanks to all of you out there who reached out to me in various wonderful ways after I wrote my last post. I very much appreciate the comments, the shares of my post, the texts, the phone calls, the Facebook messages, and everything else. I have spent the last two days alternating between anger and exhaustion over the whole thing, yet I am still able to tell myself that this is a First World Problem, and that it will eventually work itself out.

I don’t have any news yet. In this case, no news isn’t good news; it’s just no news. I have sent additional information to Feedburner and am hoping to get a response from them and Blogger soon, though everything I’m hearing from everyone who’s ever had to deal with this indicates that this is going to be a long road that may take months. Getting Feedburner to wipe that old feed completely clean is my top priority by a long shot. I’m beyond furious that it was not actually permanently deleted as I thought it was when Feedburner gave me the prompt, “Are you SURE you want to delete this feed? This action cannot be undone.”

I did take one step forward yesterday (go me!). My plagiarist used a picture of J in one of the posts. (The picture appeared in the original post too; it wasn’t random.) I was able to find it in my Picasa web album and delete it from there so it no longer shows up on “her” blog (if she’s really a “her”). Of course, it also won’t show up on THIS blog in that same post but I’m okay with that. I can always reinsert it later. I know this doesn’t prevent screen shots, etc. and I know there could be ten other sites with my copyrighted material on it, but THIS is the one I know about and THIS is the one I can act on. I can’t worry about those things I don’t know.

I’ll keep you updated if I have a monumental breakthrough; otherwise, back to business as usual around here tomorrow!

Thanks again for your support, friends. It makes me smile.

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No, *I* didn’t do it. Someone else did.

I found out today that someone grabbed my old Blogspot url, activated the feed, and copied and pasted six of my old posts (words AND pictures) there under the name Diana Reneina. The sidebar is full of text link ads.

I am beyond annoyed about this.

At first I was kicking myself for deleting the Blogspot url, figuring I should have kept it. Truth be told, though, anyone could post any of my stuff on any site.

I found out that my old feed from my old url was showing up in Google Reader for those people who never physically unsubscribed to the old feed when they subscribed to the new feed. After I found that out, I was surprised that it was even possible, because I deleted the feed in Feedburner. I have since discovered, in my frantic afternoon of trying to get the wheels rolling on the solution for this, that apparently once you delete a feed in Feedburner, it’s still in there somewhere in Feedburner’s servers. If you want it deleted so that a new person using the old url can’t leapfrog onto it, you have to make a direct request to Feedburner help at feedburner-feedback@google.com.

Only a week or two ago I was debating with friends whether I should leave my feed settings at “full” or go back to only showing part of my posts in my feed so people would have to actually click over here to read everything. I have always left the feed at full because people on mobile phones can’t always click over, and some people just get downright angry about having to click over. I don’t want to lose anybody, so I decided to leave it alone. Today I was thinking how I should have gone with my gut and shortened the posts in my feed, and then I realized that doing that doesn’t prevent my work from being stolen: this person that I discovered stealing from me today wasn’t skimming my feed: she actually copied and pasted six random posts from the feed.

I feel completely violated, and yet I know it could have been worse. In fact, I’m trying to feel like it was a good thing that she is using my old blog because I’m not sure I would have found out about it today if she wasn’t. I have been full of rage about it, sad about it, frustrated by it, and all kinds of other emotions I have yet to be able to describe, all in the course of one afternoon.

In addition to contacting Feedburner about my old feed, I have filled out a copyright violation form with Blogger, left a comment on the plagiarized blog telling her to take my material down, and even sent her a Facebook message. I’m anxious to see how long this takes to get resolved.

Actually, I’m just anxious.

I’m pretty sure of one thing, though. She made a mistake in selecting me and my blog.

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I love the John Hancock building. I love its location at the north end of Chicago’s Magnificent Mile (that’s the famous shopping area on Michigan Avenue). I love its structural expressionist style and the architects’ use of X-bracing on the exterior so that the building could be taller with wide open floor plans. I love the restaurants and shopping at the base. The Signature Room on the 95th floor is where my family has celebrated some of our most special occasions.

And of course, I love the Observatory. Located on the 94th floor, the John Hancock Observatory (JHO) provides Chicago’s best lake view and on a clear day you can see four states. There are tons of activities to keep you busy up there but I’m going to give you a list of just five reasons why *I* think you should go NOW.

1. Skating in the Sky: You won’t literally skate in the sky, but it might feel like it. From January 1-April 8 (with the exception of Friday 2/24 through Wednesday 2/29 because they need to make room for the Hustle Up The Hancock) you can ice skate up on the 94th floor with the world at your feet. The synthetic rink is 900 square feet and overlooks the lakefront and Lake Shore Drive. 25-minute skating sessions are $5 (on top of your JHO admission), and if you don’t bring your own skates you can rent a pair for only a dollar!

2. Free Concierge service: You expect to find a concierge at a hotel, but probably not at the John Hancock Observatory. This is a great service for tourists who need a little help planning the rest of their day as well as locals looking for something new and different. The Sky High Concierges are there to make dinner reservations, find tickets to shows, and even book hotels. They also have lots of take-and-go information that you can grab on your way down to ground level!

3. Open-air Skywalk: Take a breezy stroll OUTSIDE and enjoy the view with the wind blowing through your hair! The Skywalk is totally safe: think of it as a screened-in porch that just happens to be 94 floors up. The Skywalk is open year-round!

4. Free Multimedia Sky Tour: Every single visitor can get, if they choose, a headset so they can enjoy a tour of the JHO and buildings (and other features) surrounding it. The tour is FREE and narrated by David Schwimmer (yes, please!) who is internationally famous for playing Ross on “Friends”, but locally famous as well, for being a co-founder of the Lookingglass Theater. The tour is offered in seven languages (English, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Mandarin and Spanish) as well as a kids’ version. Did I mention it’s free?

5. Inexpensive city parking AND Free (for a limited time) VIP line privileges: If you know anything about Chicago parking, you know that parking downtown (especially in the Loop and north of the Chicago River in the shopping district) is crazy expensive. For those of you who have never had to park in Chicago, here’s a reference point: parking in these areas in a garage during peak hours for 3-4 hours can cost $28-34. (I told you, CRAZY.) Get this, though: if you go to the John Hancock Observatory and buy tickets at the entrance, they will validate your parking for the garage right there in the building (primo parking!), and you’ll pay only $10 for up to three hours of parking. That’s a year-round special. For a limited time (through April 27, 2012), you can get a Free Fast Pass Upgrade, which will get you to the front of the line going up to the JHO AND back down, when you’re done exploring! Click here to print out the coupon, which is good for up to four people.

So there you have it, my five reasons to visit Chicago’s John Hancock Observatory, NOW. Want to learn more? Visit the JHO website, and if you want to check out a video I made last May when I interviewed Carey Randall, Director of Sales and Marketing at JHO, click here. (You’ll see the Lavazza Cafe, the interactive telescopes, and more!)

Disclosure: The John Hancock Observatory is a sponsor of LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER Chicago, and as a part of the sponsorship I agreed to write a post about this amazing Chicago attraction. As usual, words and opinions are mine.

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It never occurred to me in a million years that I’d have to deal with this issue. Not with MY kid.

Everything started out innocently enough: he was invited to a big party. The house was practically full of his friends, all his age. It was just your typical, run-of-the-mill birthday party. The mood was festive but not over the top; all of the party attendees were on their best behavior.

Well, they were on their best behavior at first, until the stimulants made their appearance, thanks to one of the guests. In fact, that guest was a little overzealous about it and in an instant, almost everything ended up on the floor. Everyone–except for D, that is–scrambled to get their hands on as much as they could, and that’s really when it all went south.

D stood there wide-eyed and almost in disbelief about what he was seeing, not knowing what to do. There wasn’t any peer pressure for him to join in, because none of his friends wanted to share their windfall.

And so, as everyone around him got whipped up into a frenzy and forgot that he was even there, D just…cried.

Of course I’m talking about D’s first piñata experience. (What did you think I was talking about??)

He was four at the time, and this was his initiation into the world of birthday party piñatas. The kid who put the fatal beating on the paper mache’ candy vessel, causing it to spill its contents, ripped off his blindfold in a fraction of a second and dove in with the rest of the kids as they filled their pockets with individually-wrapped, sugared treats. I watched it happen from my chair in the corner of the room, assuming that D would know to get in there, though after it happened I couldn’t believe that I had made that false assumption.

D looked at me through his tears and I pointed towards the lump of squirmy children on the floor who were throwing elbows and pushing each other to grab the goodies. “Get in there,” I whispered, “get in there and grab some candy!”

He wouldn’t do it. Not only was it a highly overwhelming situation for a four-year-old who had never seen such an occurrence before, but it also went against everything we had taught him so far about manners and how to treat others. As I watched him follow the birthday girl’s mother into the kitchen (she had some extra candy to give to him), I wondered how I was going to explain to my gentle-hearted son who was already concerned about good manners at the age of four that it IS okay to act a little like a barbarian when it comes to a piñata.

After the party, we talked about it. I explained that the piñata was a party game, and even though it was a good idea to be careful–we don’t want to intentionally hurt someone in order to get some candy–it was okay in that moment to be a little aggressive. Of course, I reminded him that most of his friends used good manners in “normal” situations like he did, but they knew that under these circumstances, being a little grabby was fine. That was a difficult concept to explain, and I don’t know if I could do a better job explaining it to another four year old today, even after fifteen more years of parenting under my belt.

It wasn’t long before the next party invitation came home in his preschool backpack. “Great,” I thought. “Refresher course!”

On the way to his friend’s house I prepared him for the chance that there might be a piñata at this party too, and told him that it was part of the game to get in there and get a few pieces of candy.

He didn’t do it.

He didn’t do it at the next one, either. He had no problem standing to the side (tear-free after that first time), just watching the chaos.

In fact, it took many more parties before he was able to bring himself to participate when the piñata fell to pieces, and when he did he was still very respectful of others and only took the candy that was within his reach before backing up out of the fray. Predictably, after he did it once he asked if I could buy a piñata for his own upcoming birthday party.

Though I didn’t realize it at the time, the whole episode told me so much about the type of person he would become, partly due to the personality with which he was born and partly due to his upbringing. His quiet nature dominated in group situations. He was social but not overly rambunctious. He was always concerned for the well-being of those around him, and didn’t often put himself into situations where the possibility for injury existed. When my friends’ sons seemed to get more and more rowdy (I’m not talking about a “bad” kind of rowdy, just a “boyish” kind of rowdy), mine didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mind. It was nice to have a son who was a little more on the subdued side even though I worried sometimes that life would try to trample him as he did his best to politely step to the side and out of the way.

In the end, what happened was that my gentle and sensitive boy grew into a gentle and sensitive young man. He has always had small circles of close friends rather than large numbers of acquaintances. He is still quiet by nature, but displays his own style of rowdy when he feels most at ease, among his family and friends. Most of all, he realizes that you don’t always have to make the most commotion in order to get what you want in life: he approaches his goals with deep thought, consideration for others, and some good strategies, strategies that work for him.

The piñata episode proves that you never know when a teachable moment will present itself and become a real life lesson, and that it doesn’t matter if your child deals with situations differently from the majority. What’s important is that we as parents are there to give them the tools they need in order to succeed in their own way, on their own schedule.

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Today I thought I’d show you the first part of a video series I’m involved with (along with several of my beautiful Chicago blogger friends!), produced by MJ Tam for the Chicagonista Live show. The series is called “Our Voices” (#OurVoices). I love many things about this particular video, but my favorite is the Barbara Walters/Oprah-style lighting that worked miracles I’ve never seen before. I’m working on a way to have that light follow me around everywhere.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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I venture to say that a day spent around (and in) shiny, colorful, beautiful new cars is enough to put a smile on most people’s faces. I know that I had a great time last last week when I was invited by General Motors to attend the Chicago Auto Show as a part of Social Media Day (Kudos to the organizers of the Chicago Auto Show, by the way, for recognizing the power of social media!).

I had some great experiences and learned some interesting things there, starting with what I heard during our breakfast. The room was full of us social media types as well as Chevy Volt owners, who General Motors had also invited as special guests for the day. These people, like every General Motors employee I’ve personally run into (and by “run into”, I mean “spoken to”, of course), is filled to overflow with passion for these cars. In fact, GM Communications Manager Connie Burke of General Motors (who I will now be referring to as “The Queen of All Media”) told me that the breakfast location was originally a smaller room, but so many of the Volt owners responded with a “Yes, I’m coming!” to their invitation that they had to upgrade to a larger room. I was incredibly impressed that one of the Volt owners said he had driven his car (which is a plug-in electric vehicle: you can drive about 35 miles on a charge before needing to switch to the gas tank, making it perfect for city drivers) for 9200 miles and had only needed five gallons of gas!

By the way, Chicago Auto Show attendees can test-drive all kinds of vehicles, including the Volt…

After the breakfast, we headed upstairs to the show, which is massive. It happens to be the largest auto show in North America (one million square feet of exhibit space!), which is one reason why I really wish I had worn more comfortable shoes, but that’s another post for another day.

We started off learning about the GMC Acadia and the Acadia Denali, restyled for 2013 and still containing some fantastic family-friendly features like extra cupholders, extra storage, and access to the DVD player from the rear seats for those families who have older kids. The Acadia also scores an industry first with front center air bags, which protect passengers during a far-side impact crash.

After spending about ten minutes in the GMC area, there was a HUGE surprise. We would not be taking a guided tour of the rest of the General Motors brands: we would spend the next hour touring OTHER brands.

HUH?

That’s right: you heard me. (Er, you read me.)

THAT is how passionate the folks at GM are about their products: they aren’t worried about the competition. And if you think that GM took us around the auto show, disrespecting every other brand out there, you couldn’t be more wrong. They talked about the great things their competitors are introducing, objectively and in great detail. I was fascinated.

I saw some cars I loved (Hello, Hyundai Genesis Coupe!) and some cars I had previously loved but didn’t connect with this time around (The BMW 3-series vehicles now have “angry faces”, and if you’re a long-time reader you know I can’t get over that. Click here to read about it.). When our tour was done, we were released to enjoy the show however we wanted to; I went back to the General Motors brands with a couple of friends to spend some quality time.

If money were no object whatsoever, I would purchase the 2012 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 for Jim. How sweet is THIS??

I drove the Chevy Cruze and the Chevy Sonic for a week each in 2011, and I really liked them very much: they are fun to drive. That’s why I was particularly excited to see the 2013 Chevrolet Spark at the show: it’s an adorable mini car, a five-door hatchback, which seats four and comes in bright, FUN colors. I am on the edge of my seat waiting for this car to be released later this year and can’t wait to check it out from behind the wheel.

My friends and I spoke with Joe Baker, from the GM Advanced Design Studio in Los Angeles. Joe is one of the designers behind the two concept cars that were on display, the Code 130R and the Tru 140S.

Interestingly, Joe told us that men generally like the Code 130R (the red one above) because it looks more “muscle car-ish” and women generally like the Tru 140S because it’s more sleek. Also interestingly, my friends and I agreed that we liked the Code 130R MUCH better than the Tru 140S. Go figure.

I said to Joe, “So, what were you feeling when you finally saw these cars ‘finished’ as they are now?” His answer surprised me: he said that he wasn’t even phased by that time. His most exciting experience was when they got the car designs where they wanted them in the clay model process. After that comes a lot of time spent on making sure the cars are safe and have the right features. By that point he was less focused on the “concept look”, so it wasn’t as thrilling. I guess I understand that!

While we were there, Charlie Wojciechowski, NBC5 Chicago reporter, came with his cameraman to do some Social Media Day interviews. He chatted with Connie and then my friend Toni. Both of them were total pros.

Unfortunately, NBC didn’t use Toni’s interview, which amazed me because she was SO GOOD. They got a shot of her tweeting, though. I even made the report, tweeting my little heart out. See? (Make sure to watch the whole thing: it’s worth it to see Connie talk about gaining customers as “family members” and then say that Chevy is “not just a one-night stand”.)

View more videos at: http://nbcchicago.com.

The best news all day was that I found a front-runner in the race for my next vehicle, the 2013 Cadillac ATS, in red. In fact, I’d take this exact vehicle.

This car made me drool. Better yet, I looked at it and it seemed to whisper my name. And it has a friendly “face”. It might be a love connection as I get more serious about a new car in the next eighteen months or so: I’ll keep you posted!

Check out the Chicago Auto Show for yourself: it runs through Sunday, February 19 at McCormick Place!

Disclosure: I was given breakfast and complimentary admission for the day to the Chicago Auto Show by General Motors. I was not required in any way to write about my experience, but as usual, I wanted to. Also as usual, all words and opinions are mine.

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There’s been another dust-up in the news this week, and this time the big story is how great the French are at parenting. I mentioned it briefly in yesterday’s vlog, and I really need to expand on it because parenting and its various styles is a topic for which I have endless passion.

(If you have no idea what I’m talking about, click here to read the Wall Street Journal essay/excerpt by Pamela Druckerman, author of “Bringing Up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting”.)

First, let me give you the disclaimer: I am not ragging on the author OR the book, which I have not read. I don’t have a problem with her, the concepts she wrote about in her essay, or even French people. This is simply my response, which at times will no doubt read like a rant. My apologies.

Druckerman has observed the “French” style of parenting to include things like:
1. Saying “no” to your kids in such a way that they take you seriously
2. Making your kids wait for things
3. Parenting without as much yelling, focusing on “educating” more than “disciplining”

Oddly enough, MY (and Jim’s) style of parenting–both of us AMERICAN, even!–includes things like:
1. Saying “no” to your kids in such a way that they take you seriously
2. Making your kids wait for things
3. Parenting without as much yelling, focusing on “educating” more than “disciplining”

Amazing, right? (I know.)

I have written about how Jim and I parent many times. I know that some of you parent in similar ways. I imagine that some of you don’t.

I’m not suggesting that how we parent is the only right way. It is, however, a good way, and I’m not just saying that: I have valid proof in the nineteen-year-old son and the seventeen-year-old son who have grown up under our care.

I don’t think that teaching manners or responsibility is something that is missing in America (obviously). The fact of the matter is, the kids who display poor behavior make better gossip fodder or topics for news stories than the quiet, well-behaved ones. Unfortunately.

There are GREAT kids (and GREAT parents) out there, in every part of America. It seems like they are the minority, but I can’t say for sure. Unfortunately, in today’s fast-paced and high-pressure American lifestyle, many parents take the easy way out when it comes to disciplining/EDUCATING their children, because the hard way takes longer and is sometimes emotionally draining. I can tell you one thing though, the families that ended up on shows like “Supernanny” don’t seem emotionally at ease, do they? So much for those parenting methods.

The short-term discomfort of disciplining/EDUCATING your kids is WAY BETTER than taking what seems like the easy way out, because the easy way out comes with a heavy, long-term price.

I’m not sure why so many people don’t get this concept. I don’t get why parents let their toddlers run around at restaurants, why parents would be accepting of a situation where one would eat while the other would run around behind their kid, and then switch so the other parent could eat. I don’t get why parents let their kids interrupt them constantly when it isn’t important. I don’t get why parents will say, “I’d *insert anything here*, but that doesn’t work for little Sarah.” It’s really time that parents grow a backbone and step up FOR their kids, instead of letting their kids run things. I mean, who’s been on earth longer?

Regarding using the word “no”: do I like telling my kids “no”? Of course not! Just like every other parent out there, I want my kids to have everything their little hearts desire, and I want them to be able to do what they want (as long as it’s safe, etc.). I always have. What I have always wanted more than that, though, was for them to grow up to be respectful, caring, appreciative young men. So we did things “the hard way”, starting when they were little, probably younger than you would imagine. And you know what? The word “no” becomes easier to say–and easier to receive–when there is meaning behind it.

A couple of years ago J and I went to dinner at the home of old family friends: a mom, dad, and two teenaged girls. The younger girl, who was thirteen at the time, whined so much I wanted to leave. At the dinner table, she actually had a temper tantrum/meltdown. At thirteen. While the parents smiled at her–and us–nervously. There is something wrong with that. (J, by the way, also thirteen at that time, couldn’t stop talking about how unbelievable the behavior of the whole family was on the fifteen-minute drive back home.)

Things that have actually been said to me at some point in my parenting past, out loud:
“I wish I could have conversations with my kids like the ones you have with yours.”
“I wish I had the strength to tell my kids ‘no’.”
“I really want him to sleep in his own bed, but he won’t.”
“I don’t know how you get your kids to sit quietly at the table.”
“Your son is so well-behaved. I wish mine was.”
“I’ve tried that before, but my kid won’t behave: he’s our little troublemaker!”

YOU are in control, parents. Or you should be. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: parenting is hard. The feeling you get from doing it well is like no other. You’re worth that. Your kids are worth that.

So let’s not make this a French parents vs. American parents thing, shall we? Let’s all just go out there and be GOOD PARENTS.

Ready? Go!

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My apologies in advance.

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I feel the need to start this post with a disclaimer: I usually don’t bring up religious stuff here unless it’s of the general variety. In relaying this particular story–which has an element of religion included–I want you to know that I am not trying to push my religion on anybody, and hope that you will just find it interesting.

Years ago, I was selling health club memberships full time. I had been an employee there for a few years and worked part-time in different departments before landing in Membership. My full-time status came as a result of Jim having been let go from his job in the economic turmoil of 2002 (we thought it was bad THEN!). When I first started working forty hours each week, I was really happy in the position. The management team at the club was made up of a bunch of people who had been there as long as I had. We were all friendly and ate lunch together on a daily basis. My immediate supervisor, the Membership Sales Manager, taught me everything I know about sales and we got along really, really well. I was not only doing sales, but also odd jobs like writing the employee newsletter, buying fitness apparel for the pro shop, and various other tasks for different departments. I knew everyone (including the members), and everyone knew me. I loved my job. I loved my office, too: it was right inside the club entrance, the perfect location for an outgoing kind of person like me. I was accessible to everybody, and got lots of friendly smiles and waves all day long.

After a while, there was a shift in the club management. My immediate boss left the company. Other higher-ups were gone. The club was in limbo. The sales department, which was made up of me and one other woman, went for a couple of months without a boss. Though we really needed a ringleader, we did okay for those two months, stepping up where needed when it came to doing reports and talking to the corporate office. Finally, someone was hired for the position. He had been briefed on the two ladies who would be reporting to him, and he was not pleased that I was so integral to club operations as a whole. His first day was not a good one for me.

Within two hours of his arrival, it was decreed that I would be moved out of the sales office. Worse, I was being moved to a tiny room that held file cabinets in it. The room, an offshoot of the back office, was the size of a small bathroom and isolated from everybody except for the club’s Assistant Manager. It had no windows; what it did have was a huge bundle of wires (for the cable, phone, and who knows what else) that covered the corner where the two far walls met, and dingy walls. Nothing else.

The club’s maintenance man and his assistant (who also happened to be his wife) were told to ready the room for me by the next day. I was horrified. My new boss was clearly threatened by me, and he hadn’t even spent five minutes talking to me. It was a terrible feeling.

I went home and cried about it, and through my tears decided that if I had to work in that tiny little room for eight hours a day, I was going to make it pretty. I brought in some pink fabric to cover up the bundle of wires, a funky pink light, and some artificial flowers. With the maintenance team’s help, I made that room into a great little office. The three of us hugged when we were finished setting it up. I was proud of myself for not letting that jerk see how upset I was about my move: I took lemons and made lemonade.

As you probably suspect, my pretty little office didn’t make the problems go away. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to do anything that would turn my boss’ opinion about me around. He was hostile, sneaky, and I couldn’t stand working for him. All of the changes in the club from the previous couple of months caught up with me, and soon I was crying about my job every night when I arrived home. I needed to get out of there. The problem was, I really liked the nuts and bolts of my job, and I was (am!) a very loyal employee. As unhappy as I was, I didn’t feel right about leaving.

Time went by, and that jerk was caught acting unethically by convincing two people to sign up for membership on the last day of the month so he could get his bonus, telling them they could come back and cancel the next day. He was fired.

I moved back up front to my old office, but things still didn’t get better. Things were happening in upper management that I didn’t like, and I continued to cry after work, only now I was starting as soon as I got into my car. I was so torn. I knew I needed to leave this job. I was just so scared. I was scared that I wouldn’t find another job in which I’d be happy, or make enough money, or have the flexibility I needed as a mom. I am not a fan of change. I was paralyzed by fear. The “What ifs” were preventing me from moving on.

One Friday night, Jim and I decided to go to Shabbat services at our temple. It had been a while since we had attended, and we both felt like we needed the peace that attending services always seemed to bring.

I do not consider myself an overly spiritual person. I do, however, think that those of us who have faith–no matter what the religion–only need to listen a little harder sometimes in order to hear what we need to hear.

That night, coincidence or not, our Rabbi read a passage:

Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav comments on (the passage) “and they made no provisions for the way”: “When you are about to leave Egypt–ANY EGYPT–do not stop to think ‘But how will I earn a living out there…?’ One who stops to ‘make provisions for the way’ will never get out of Egypt.”

I started crying.

But wait, it gets better.

Later in the service, my Rabbi read Healing Psalm #116 by Debbie Perlman:

Sometimes You ask me to stand still.
And trembling, gasping for a calm center,
I gather in the flying limbs of my frenzy,
Even as I thrash against this amber capture.
Sometimes You ask me to hold tight.
With faint belief in my own courage,
I wrap my limbs in fixed contractures
Even as I turn my head to hide the weeping.
Sometimes You ask me to move on.
Against my pleading, my shout for clock’s unturning,
You birth me again and again,
Your guiding hand forever steady.
Sometimes You ask me to let go.
Slowly, persistently, I relax my option,
And discover a spectrum of choices
Contained in Your next chapter.

That was the final push I needed. I slept fitfully that night, and called my Rabbi the following evening to tell him how profoundly these passages affected me, and to ask him if he read them for any specific reason. “No,” he said, “I just made them a part of the service without specific reason, but now I think I know why.”

Call it fate, call it faith, call it coincidence, call it whatever you want. The reading of those passages by my Rabbi that night changed the trajectory of my life. I was able to muster up the courage to leave the job that was making me miserable and venture into the next part of my life, which stopped the tears from flowing and made me a much happier person.

Whenever I come to a crossroads in my life, I think of that Friday night. I can hear the Rabbi’s voice in my head (pretty cool, since we have had two new Rabbis since then!), and it calms me. These passages give me strength and remind me that sometimes, making a leap into the unknown is the absolute best thing we can do.

What about you? Does major change scare you or invigorate you? Have you ever had a “coincidental” moment like this that drives you to make change?

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