I AM JEALOUS OF YOU

I’m super thankful Al Gore invented the World Wide Web.  I am thankful for the WWW because without it, Mark Zuckerberg would not have invented Facebook. Some people want to stay off the grid.  I am not one of those people (yet).  I love Facebook.  As someone who has moved 14 times in 38 years, it has allowed me to stay connected with friends I have left behind geographically.  For example, I found my very first best friend from Charlottesville, VA on Facebook.  We met in kindergarten.  Our mothers taught school together.  She is a brilliant photographer in New Mexico now.  This makes me happy.

But I must confess; Facebook does not always bring out the best in me.  I have found my skeletal system growing more and more jealous bones.  It’s not something I’m proud to admit.

So, last week when I overheard two mothers discussing the concept of jealousy, I had to tune my eavesdropping ears into the conversation.  They were not discussing Facebook though.  They were discussing, “How do you help your children deal with jealous feelings?”  One of the mothers had read, somewhere, the strategy of teaching children how to make “statements of jealousy.”  She thinks it works.  She believes it has helped her daughter share her feelings and work toward self-acceptance. 

I’m going to try it.  Here I go. I made a list of things that make me jealous on Facebook.

1) Status update:  YAHOO!  Couldn’t be happier that the University of Awesomeness just defeated our rivals 954 to 6!

Statement of jealousy:  Sportsmanship is not one of my strengths.  I can only feel happy when the Texas Aggies, Vanderbilt Commodores, or MTSU Blue Raiders win.  I want no other teams to experience victory.  If Alabama plays LSU, I want both teams to suffer defeat. It could be football, basketball, NCAA Women or NCAA Men.  Or, it could be a United Nations simulation.  When your team wins, I feel jealous.

 

2) Status update:  Check out this nutritious and delicious meal I prepared in just under 6 hours.

Statement of jealousy:  I feel like a champ when I microwave organic chicken nuggets.  When you post pictures of the healthy meals you are preparing for your family from scratch using organic vegetables you grew in your garden with meat you cut from an organic cow, I feel jealous.

 

3) Status update:  Enjoying a super fun night out with my closest gal pals!

Statement of jealousy:  I don’t care if I haven’t seen you in 25 years. When you order food from a menu that someone else prepares for you and you don’t have to jump up 17 times to refill milk and/or cut up more strawberries and no one tries to steal food off your plate while you enjoy adult conversation and company, I feel jealous of you.

 

4) Status update:  Just finished my morning run!  Only ran 19 this morning!  Got my long run scheduled for this weekend!  May or may not make it to yoga after my boot camp class!

Statement of jealousy:  I want to be a super awesome exerciser and fitness person.  However, I am not.  When you burn 10,000 calories or complete an intense isometrics and/or bodybuilding session, I feel jealous.

5) Status update:  Baby Moonbeam just read her first Hunger Games novel!  I can’t believe she’ll finish the trilogy before her fourth birthday!  Maybe we can convince her to put down her algebra textbook long enough to analyze her wheat samples under the electron microscope!

Statement of jealousy:  I want all children to achieve success to the best of their potential.  When your kid reads War and Peace on her second birthday or counts to 1 million while he waits for his salad to arrive at the dinner table while The Trifecta run around in their underwear and build forts out of couch cushions, I feel like I gave birth to Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.  And that makes me jealous.  But happy for you.

 

6) Status update:  Hubby and I having such a super great time together on our vacation to sunny Detroit!

Statement of jealousy:  I totally own the fact that Chris Jackson and I have not been away from The Trifecta overnight since they were born.  Chalk it up to the fact that I can’t stand vertically, form a complete sentence, or function properly by the time we tuck their precious bodies into bed at night.  If I can barely make it, and I’m their mama, I don’t feel right asking someone else to live the dream.  When you go on vacation with your spouse/partner/sugar-mama/boy-toy, I feel jealous.

 

7) Status update:  Check it out!  Baby on the way!  Thor barely breathed on me and I’m pregnant!

Statement of jealousy:  I want to live in a permanent state of pregnancy and have at least 20 children.  This has not and will not happen for reasons both divine and logical.  When you get pregnant, I feel a little jealous…but sincerely over joyed for you too.

So now I’ve done it.  I’ve confessed my jealous feelings.  I hope you still want to be my friend. 

Brave Friend Beats Cancer

 

I have a friend that I love very much. 

In the fall of 1994 divine intervention placed us in the same pledge class in the same sorority at Texas A&M University. She took some stalking and convincing when she first met me, but eventually she came around and we became more than just sorority sisters, we became friends.  The real kind and the true kind.

She’s the kind of friend that turns life in the sorority house into a comedic adventure. 

She’s the forgiver of flaws, including the time at the age of 19 when you ditched your sorority sisters on Big Event day to paint a house with the Sigma Chis because the boy you had a crush on at the time said, “Hey, you want to paint a house with us?” 

She exchanges the same, “are we allowed to think the offensive and inappropriate content of this movie is funny?” glances during There’s Something About Mary.

She flashes you at the top of the stairs during rush because she realizes rush chair won’t be the most important job you’ll ever have and she wants you to lighten up and smile before you open those big double doors. 

She’s your roommate. 

She’s the keeper of all secrets that begin with the words, “I can’t tell anyone else but you…”

She stands next to you on your wedding day.

She visits you in your new house even though it is far away.

She walks the road of infertility with you and compares drug induced hot flashes.  She selflessly worries when she tells you she is pregnant and you are not.

She’s the guardian and protector of your darkest and most shameful places.

And so, when her husband calls you in March and says, “Christy asked me to call you.  She has Stage 3 colorectal cancer.   But it’s going to be ok.” You panic.  Not the small kind of panic, the big kind of panic that moves from the top of your head to your toes in the blink of an eye. 

And so you “Google” the words “stage 3 colon cancer.”

You learn about all the places her cancer may or may not have spread.  You read about blood tests and biopsies and wonder whether she’ll have a CT scan or a PET scan. 

You want to send her a text every hour to remind her to rest and eat right and you want to ask her “are you ok?” at least 10 times a day.

You want to call her doctors and get a list of their qualifications as health professionals including where they went to undergraduate school, medical school, completed residency, as well as a list of professional post graduate coursework.

You want to remind the doctors to get plenty of sleep and to eat a good breakfast before they see her because they have to be at their BEST on those days.

You want to explain to all the doctors and nurses and people in the hospital who see her that she has absolutely the most wonderful sense of humor and you want to ask them to make her laugh.  A real laugh, not a fake polite laugh.

You want to threaten everyone who comes in contact with her during radiation and chemo to be kind and gentle with her or they will be sorry.

You read about treatment options and survival rates.

You pray.  You ask God to stop the cancer from spreading to her serosa, her nearby organs, her lymph nodes, and anywhere…please don’t let the cancer spread anywhere.

You pray for her two precious children and her loving husband.

You know she will beat this cancer because, well, she has to beat this cancer.

And so, when she tells you on Wednesday, November 5 she will get her pump out and be finished with chemotherapy, you send up all your prayers of thanksgiving and praise to the almighty God who healed her.  Because He is good, always.

And you feel so proud of her for being so brave.