Tag: life

A follow up to a dose of well-deserved medicine

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

A story about charitable giving and a response to a Tzedakah Challenge - www.alliepottswrites.com

If you ever need an exercise in patience, ask me where I would like to go to dinner sometime. I’ve found so many great options nearby to choose from, it is difficult to pick just one. Each have their own flavors and benefits. I wish I could support them all. The same holds true for service and outreach programs.

I would like to thank everyone who commented, liked, or otherwise helped serve my husband a taste a of his own medicine last week. He’d thank you too … eventually. But now comes the hard part – picking the recipient for the pledge total (which fell somewhat short of my self-imposed cap, but will benefit a group all the same).

There are a number of organizations that immediately came to mind. For example, my husband is a member of Rotary International which is a group with more than 35,000 clubs located around the world which take on projects, funded by club members and the Rotary Foundation, which are designed to promote peace, fight diseases like Polio, provide clean water, protect women and children, support education, and grow local economies. In fact, I try to make sure that everything I post online would pass the Rotary Club’s Four Way Test:

  1. Is it the TRUTH?
  2. Is it FAIR to all concerned?
  3. Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS?
  4. Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?

They are good guidelines to keep in mind, even if you aren’t a member.

Another program worthy of mention is B.A.R.K.S Book Buddies which stands for Bonding Animals, Reading, Kids & Safety, which is a collaboration of Helping Paws International and InterMountain Therapy Animal‘s R.E.A.D (Reading Education Assistance Dogs) program. I first learned about it when Kiddo’s teacher sent a note home stating that each child would, if permitted, be invited to read to a dog during occasional on-site visits at the school. I thought it was a cute idea and signed him right up, which he loved by the way.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that in addition to giving students a reason to look forward to extra reading, the animals help build confidence by acting as an entirely judgement free partner. The program is not limited to only school children either. These therapy dogs also provide assistance to individuals with learning and/or developmental disabilities, comfort those who are sick, or help support with other physical, speech, or occupational therapy goals. Her Royal Highness might find herself volunteering as well one day, if I can ever get her off the pillows.

While this particular program is local to my area, similar programs can be found across the United States as well as Canada, Italy, Slovenia, South Africa, Netherlands, Croatia, Iceland, Portugal, Spain, the United Kingdom, Sweden, Finland, Norway, Germany, and Australia.

We also considered making a donation to DonorsChoose.org, which is a crowd funding site much like Kickstarter or Indiegogo, where teachers can place funding requests for furniture, equipment, or other supplies. In their words “We make it easy for anyone to help a classroom in need, moving us closer to a nation where students in every community have the tools and experiences they need for a great education.”

The requests aren’t unreasonable either.

One teacher is requesting help with a subscription for Bookflix, a digital literacy resource that strengthens early literacy skills. Another teacher simply wants to be able to purchase a rug for his or her first graders to sit on during group lessons. While these teachers work at different schools, both are in a classrooms where more than a third of students from low‑income households.

DonorsChoose vets requests, but what I like most is the site’s transparency. When you donate, your money is going to the projects and schools you select. You can see how many students will benefit and know that you’ve made a difference in those student’s lives at a very individual level. You can also choose to double all other’s contributions for a specific request.

Now all that is left to do is publicly declare who the recipient will be. However this was one challenge we never expected to ‘win.’ I am instead going to keep our gift relatively anonymous with the knowledge the real winner here isn’t the organization itself, but the people it serves. Nor will we be naming nominees as I encourage anyone in a position to give time or money, to do so, challenged or not. If nothing else, remember to be kind.

I think we can all agree that the world could use some healing right now. While this sort of medicine won’t cure all ills, a little more kindness is something everyone deserves an extra dose of.

Easy Random Acts of Kindness

 

A dose of well-deserved medicine

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

A story about charitable giving and a response to a Tzedakah Challenge - www.alliepottswrites.com

It was Sunday evening. I was sitting on the couch, enjoying a little quiet time while mentally readying myself for the week ahead. I happened to notice my husband typing on his phone with a self-satisfied grin on his face. I was immediately on alert. To be clear – this is not a look to be trusted. Not when it is on my husband. The only way it could have been worse would be if he had that grin while typing on my phone.

“Marriage is a wonderful institution, but who wants to live in an institution?” – Groucho Marx

I glanced at my phone, but the only alerts showing were a slew of news headlines, which were anything but grin worthy. Nope, we definitely weren’t looking at the same thing. I navigated to Facebook. My feed is set to show my husband’s actions and reactions at the top, so within an instant, I could see he was being particularly active that night. Yeah. This can’t be good. I braced myself for impact as I clicked on the link.

The status update belonged to my cousin advising she was participating in a Tzedakah Challenge. For those not familiar with the word *raises my hand* Tzedakah roughly translates to charitable giving. Per her status update, she had to give to an organization of her choice based on the number of likes and comments she received in a 24 hour period. She pledged to donate $1 for every like and $2 for every comment and would reveal the specific charity after the 24 hour period expired. However, as it was Mother’s Day, she was willing to share that the donation would go toward helping women become better mothers.

Now my husband is a bit of a troublemaker/jokester by nature (and by a bit I mean even our friends’ kids knew by age three to always take what Mr. Potts says with a grain of salt), but he usually means well. Apparently, my cousin’s public pledge provided too good an opportunity to pass up. He commented on her post. Then he commented again, a reply to his first comment. Then again with a reply to his reply. Again and again.

This is who have to live with folks.

A friend of my cousin noticed my husband’s ‘enthusiasm’ and chimed in. What have you done? I shook my head. Don’t you know not to ever encourage him? It’s like saying ‘Beetlejuice’ three times – it sets him free. If she didn’t know what the consequences of her actions were at the time, she does now.

“Everything is funny, as long as it’s happening to somebody else.” – Will Rogers

Either bored with his conversation with himself or emboldened by the (potentially misguided) encouragement, my husband went on to like and reply to more of my cousin’s friends and acquaintances like an internet troll with a one-trick agenda (but a happy, friendly, supportive troll).

The following day, we learned exactly where my husband had spent my cousin’s money. All $150 of it.

She had chosen to donate to Literacy for Life – a regional adult literacy program, but also a program that provides mothers, fathers, and even those without children valuable life skills. In their words:

“Literacy for Life has helped people with numerous individual goals, including studying for and passing the U.S. citizenship exam, obtaining a better job, learning to manage family finances, passing a driver’s license test, effectively communicating with medical professionals, and helping a child with homework.”

There are worse things trolling can do.

However, my husband’s bit of fun (as well as intentioned as it may have been) wasn’t without its own repercussions. After the day was over and the pledge complete, my cousin ‘thanked’ him for his support by naming him as one of her five nominees to carry on the challenge. As I would like to remain on speaking terms with my extended family, I’m here today to ensure he does just that.

I’ll leave the lesson of the day to another:

“Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” –  Ernest Hemingway

Now, I don’t normally participate in these sort of challenges, but in this case, I am choosing to make an exception (I can be a supportive spouse too after all). If you would like to give my husband a taste of his own medicine or if you just want to support a charity of our choice (up to $150) please feel free to comment or like this post here or on Facebook. I’ll be sure to tell the hubby what he owes.

But be warned, because no good deed goes unpunished, I’m leaving the follow-up nominations to him. If you aren’t careful, you may just earn yourself a new friend.

The official time period for the challenge is up, so you can comment or like from this point on without fear of nomination. Thank you to all who helped me teach my husband a lesson – and helped me support a good cause. I will posting a follow up with the official charity we’ve chosen to support in a later post.

How to close a killer deal – how I got tricked by a 5-year-old

by Allie P., posted in General Tips and Tricks, Life as I know it, Life Hacks, Personal Favorites

How to close a potentially killer deal - www.alliepottswrites.com #salestips“If you lost all your skin …, would you die?”

Up until that moment, I’d been enjoying a few minutes of downtime with some light reading after a long work day. LT’s latest five-year-old pondering caught me off guard. He had to be asking someone else.

Putting down my magazine, I looked around the room, attempting to locate any other member of my family LT could be addressing. Of course, neither my husband nor my eldest son made eye contact. It would appear I was on my own. “Er … um … as in, if I lost all of it? All at once?”

He nodded.

“Then, yes,” I answered with caution, somewhat worried about what must be going through LT’s head to prompt such a random question.

“Why?” LT asked, elongating the word as only kids can as he took a step closer, eliminating any chance for my escape.

Once again I looked around the room for anything at all I might use as a diversion. “Because without my skin my insides wouldn’t stay inside.” We’re a very technical household.

I could see LT chewing over my answer in his mind as I braced myself for another round of questioning. Instead, he only smiled. “I am going to give you more skin so you won’t die.” He hugged my leg, satisfied with his solution.

Occasionally I wonder if my youngest may be a wee bit off unique.”Um … thanks …?” I replied as he wandered away, but all I could think about was the line by Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs – ‘It rubs the lotion on its skin.’

A day or so later, LT approached me with an orange. “Do you need me to help you with that?” I asked. Once again LT nodded. Within short order, I handed him the peeled results. “Here you go. Now throw the peel in the trash, please.”

“That’s for you, mommy. It’s skin,” he replied with a smile before shoving the fruit into his mouth and hopping away.

I looked at the peel in my hand and remembered our earlier conversation. It was skin. It hit me then – LT had indeed figured out a way to keep his promise (even better, no humans were harmed in the process). That’s a relief, I thought as I walked his ‘gift’ over to the trashcan.

kid's tea party
Good evening, Clarice

As I closed the lid on the trashcan, another thought occurred to me – not only had LT gotten me to throw his garbage away for him, he’d managed to do it in a way that made me grateful for the opportunity. It almost made me wonder if this was the end result he’d had in mind from the start. LT is no budding Buffalo Bill but he could yet be the next Hannibal Lecter (minus the serial killing and cannibalism).

Or he might just be a really good salesperson.

Why? Because at five, he already knows how to close a deal. Lucky kid. Here are just a few of the lessons I’ve learned from watching him (and this goes for selling goods such as books, services, or tricking your parents into doing chores for you) –

  1. Never open with the hard sell

Just like if someone walked into a room and announced without preamble, buy my stuff if LT had given me his orange peel and told me to throw it away for him, I would have said absolutely not. First, because that’s rude, and second, because I know he has two good feet. Instead, he managed to reframed the conversation by priming me to think that orange peel in my hand was a good thing.

But how?

2. Connect on an emotional level

Even those who consider themselves fact-based decision makers, make decisions based on the facts that make them feel like they made the smart and rational decision. The prospect needs to feel good about the decision – not obligated. If he’d dropped the peel at my feet and run away without first reframing the conversation, I probably would have thrown it away for him. Once. But rest assured my youngest would be regretting that poor choice in the not too distant future.

But how?

3. Highlight the potential benefits

Will the reader be entertained, learn something new, or think about life in a new way? Will the prospect save time or money? Will mommy live longer thanks to an extra layer of vitamin C goodness? Your book, service, or product should exist for a reason other than to only make you rich. Don’t be subtle about it. If you leave it up to a potential reader / client / customer to connect the dots, there is a chance they won’t.

But how?

4. Identify the pain

In other words, take the time to really get to know your audience. You know who they are and where to find them, but what is it they wish they had more of? Why don’t they? It is also just as important to find out why they’ve tolerated less up to this point so you can anticipate how to overcome obstacles and objections. Tailor your pitch accordingly. You don’t want to risk dying, mommy, do you?

But how?

5. Keep your promises and follow-up

LT’s seemingly random question may have been mostly forgotten after an amusing conversation shared between friends and family, and a statement on twitter, if it weren’t for his follow-up as well as how he kept his promise.

While he may not have successfully sold me on throwing his garbage away for the rest of time, by this simple act, he has ensured I’ll never look at his leftover orange peels in the same way ever again, and that’s no small deal.

You don’t look so good – a healthy reminder

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
background image courtesy of www.flickr.com

The hacking, wheezing and overall not sleeping finally got to me. I took myself to the doctor thinking I would be in and out of the office in no time flat. I wasn’t. Though I had gone to a clinic with a word meaning speed in its name, it would seem that I wasn’t the only one seeking medical treatment that particular afternoon. The waiting room was packed.

After two hours sitting in a stiff pleather chair surrounded by the sounds of other sniffles, groans, and easy rock ballads, the battery icon on my phone turned red. Well, shoot. Faced with no other easy distraction, I looked around the room. I found myself beginning to question exactly how sick I really was feeling. What’s a little cough? I mean I had made it through an entire week already. I could make it another night. What’s the worst that could happen?

My rationalization grew louder, certain as I was that the doctor was going to tell me that I’d caught a simple virus. I knew he or she would just have to rest and run its course, things I was well equipped to do from the comfort of my home. So why continue to wait around in a room staring at my thumbs or other sick people when I could be back with my family?

I walked to the front desk. “I think I am going to leave,” I told the nurse. She blinked. Clearly, this was not a statement she was used to hearing.

She looked out into the waiting room. “But you’re next.”

I sighed. I’d been there two hours already but had only seen three patients go back. My place in the queue meant little. I followed her gaze. Two more patients had arrived after I had. A girl, barely older than my son, lay draped across her father’s shoulders. An older couple – a woman who could barely sit up, and her partner, a small man who’d caught my eye when they’d entered the room and had attempted to make small talk with me as if I was a life raft while clutching her hand.

“But there are other patients here that need the spot more than I do,” I said, and I meant it. I’d be fine.

I’m not sure the nursing staff was convinced. “We are equipped to deal with everyone. All we need is for a room to become available.”

“Right, which is why I would like one of them to go in my place.”

“But you’ve already paid.”

This was true, and my copay for a visit like this wasn’t cheap. “Can’t you just cancel the transaction or refund the money?”

“No. Once you’ve paid, you would have to wait for a check to be mailed at the end of the month.”

Well, that was a wrinkle I hadn’t quite considered. As I mulled over my response, another nurse appeared, taking the decision from me. “If you’ll come back with me now.”

I followed her through the hall and into a back room where we discussed my symptoms, each of which sounded more and more petty to my ears. So, I have had a cough and can’t sleep. I’ve had a fever and the chills, but the fever goes away and sure, I have shortness of breath and a rattle in my lungs you can hear from space, but I’m fine or will be soon. I’ve waited this long, I can wait a little longer. Really, why don’t you go and help the others?

The doctor looked at me as if she couldn’t quite determine if I’d insulted her professionalism or simply grown two heads. “You don’t need to worry about them. We’ll take care of them too.”

But I did worry. It is the downside of knowing you’ve been pretty lucky in life. You can always imagine those who have had it worse. In my mind, I saw the little girl calling for a mother who hadn’t yet arrived and her father pacing around the room at a loss as to what to do. I saw the little old man struggling to stay strong for his partner waiting to be told that their lives wouldn’t be the same. These stories played out in my head, each more tragic than the one before. I knew my story couldn’t compare – that the doctor would write me off as a waste of her time before she closed the door. Or at least that’s what I convinced myself would happen.

“Now take a deep breath,” the doctor said, pulling me out of my imagination.

Two minutes later, I learned I wasn’t fine. I had pneumonia (aka fun stuff).

While I still feel guilty thinking of those other faces in the room, it doesn’t change the fact that I was sick and deserved to be cared for too. If I had given into my doubts and gone home, those other patients might have been seen fifteen minutes earlier, but I would have been at greater risk of secondary infection, hospitalization, or even worse. The guilt I felt at delaying the other patients’ never-at-risk treatment by fifteen minutes would have paled compared against potential outcomes I now realized I had avoided by allowing myself to come first.

It turns out I needed more than just a day off. I also needed an antibiotic, a steroid, and an inhaler, but most of all, it seems I needed a reminder that while yes, I am often lucky, that doesn’t mean bad things can still happen. It was also a healthy reminder that every now and then I need to put myself first and not feel guilty about it. Because while generosity of spirit is always admirable, strength of body can be a good thing too.

A confident sailor’s message and my restless confessions

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
A confident sailor's message and my restless confessions - www.alliepottswrites.com
background image courtesy of http://www.pexels.com

I lay awake. An oscillating creaky noise, reminiscent of a boat too long in the water, stretching moldy tie lines as it swayed from side to side, prevented me from finding the rest I needed. I shifted my position, but no matter how or where I moved, I couldn’t eliminate the sound. It was a quiet noise, but not an ignorable one. Gradually, I accepted there would be no restful sleep this night. The sound, you see, it was coming from me.

I am death. 

Too over the top? Okay, let’s just say I’ve been better.

The noise that has kept me awake for the last several nights is a mucous induced rattle in my nose and throat I can’t seem to shake. A bug has been floating around my office recently, and I guess, it was my turn to bring it home. Yay! Have I mentioned how much I hate being sick? But on the plus side, the whole not being able to sleep thing has given me ample time to think.

One of the blogs I regularly follow (The Spectacled Bean) recently posed the question: How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? 

Last week (with the exception of one epically terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day), I might have shaved a few years off. Would this be out of vanity? Maybe, but there wouldn’t be many physical clues. While I have a few gray hairs, overall it is much the same color as it was when I was born, and though I have noticed a wrinkle or two I can blame my lack of height for at least a portion of premature etching. (Looking up at everyone all the time is hard work). Therefore it would really come down to how old I feel mentally at any given time, which most of the time is fairly young.

I was feeling especially so when I attended a presentation with my husband’s rotary club. The guest of honor was a retired Rear Admiral from the United States Navy. He opened his presentation by talking about the crews that manned the flight deck. He asked the audience, many of whom were also retired, how old they thought the median age of the crew was. The answer was roughly nineteen and a half.

Nineteen and a half.

And they were responsible for multimillion dollar fighter jets.

At nineteen and a half, I was responsible for a very used car (which didn’t run most of the time) and getting to class on time. Way to make a person feel like an underachiever, Sir. The message the Rear Admiral was trying to make is that we need to trust the younger generation, something I know I have a difficult time doing at times. I’m sorry, but it can be hard to accept the people you babysat or whose diapers you once changed are now adults. It’s not that you aren’t capable – I know you are – it’s just that I remember when we couldn’t trust more than a few of you to walk down the hall with scissors (or worse – a capless marker).

He went on to talk about readiness and spoke of two ships. On one ship (not a US Naval vessel), hoses were a pristine white and fittings shone like the sun. The condition of other, a US ship, was a far contrast. On that ship, the hoses were worn, faded, and fittings, dented. Considering the beginning portion of the speech, and his emphasis on supporting the next generation, I was sure that the Rear Admiral was about to suggest that we weren’t spending enough – that our military was less than as ready as it could be due to inferior equipment.

I waited for the sales pitch.

Instead, the Rear Admiral made a different point entirely. The equipment showed signs of age, but that was a good thing. It meant it was used and used regularly.

Every now and then I give into a little envy. I look to people younger than me, who have accomplished so much in their short lives, and can’t help wishing my path looked more like theirs – less readiness and more doing-ess. The envy makes me question a few of my choices. Did I waste my time before? What would it have been like had I taken the chance on me sooner?

I’ll never know the answers, but I guess it really doesn’t make a difference in the long run. I am where I am now. I’ll kick this bug (I hope). I may yet conquer the world – who knows? (mid-day naps for everyone)! At least I know I am trying to take the helm. And while I sometimes feel I need a few more sick days than I used to or just a few extra hours rest, that’s just evidence that I’ve lived my life as I seen best.

It doesn’t matter how old I think I am.

Age is just a number.

It is only the experiences filling that time that matters.