Tag Archives: Shel Silverstein

Ughs and Hugs

Confession: when I was in Miss Dimitroff’s class in fourth grade, I anonymously put a suggestion in the suggestion box asking that she not call us “honey” and “sweetie” and the like because not everyone liked being called things like that.

In fact, I hated it. It made me incredibly uncomfortable.

I’m pretty sure that’s why my mom put me in that class though– to get a dose of the touchy-feely crap she thought I needed.

Was she right?

Probably.

Did I like it?

Not one bit.

So it was quite a relief when in fifth grade I moved on to the non-touchy, non-feely Mrs. Lavery aka Mrs. Slavery, as kids were known to call her. Man did I ever love that class. (That is, until I got that fateful haircut and things started going down hill… but besides that, it was good.)

Touchiness… feeliness… just not really my things. I’m kind of a cold fish. And I especially dislike hugs. Always have and still do.

Except when I don’t. Which seems to be happening more and more often. Because, as you know by now, I’m nothing if not a walking, talking, big-haired contradiction.

In high school youth group, everyone hugged at the sign of peace while on retreat. It was terrible. People did the same thing at the big CTA conference I was recently at. Terrible!

Then again… I ran five miles with my friend Marie on Thanksgiving morning. It was her first race and I was crazy, ridiculously, deliriously proud of her as she crossed the finish line.

Wooooo!! Marie!!!
Wooooo!! Marie!!!

So, once I was done taking photos of her crossing the finish line and crossed it myself, I ran up to her and gave her a big hug.

What the?

That’s not me.

Usually.

Except that in that moment it kind of was.

And now I find myself completely unsure  of my stance on hugging.

Another example… my friend and former co-worker Michele recently left her office next door to mine to pursue grad school at Vanderbilt University in Tennessee. When she left, I hugged her, of course, because it seemed like the thing to do. But if I’m being completely honest, although we miss each other very much and it was very happy/sad when she left, neither of us really liked it because neither of us likes to hug. Except… when I went to Nashville to visit Michele a couple weeks ago, the first thing I did when I saw her in her happy bright yellow sweater on a breezy and beautiful Nashville day was give her a hug.

It was an actual hug though, not just this arm around the shoulders... for real.
It was an actual hug though, not just this arm around the shoulders… for real.

No explanation there either. It was spontaneous. It just happened. And I didn’t hate it.

So I grumble and groan and tell people about how I hate hugs and terms of endearment and everything touchy-feely, yet… I’m always begging Seth for what I like to call “huglets” (you know, mini-hugs) and I hug on my pup and call her my little sweetness. I could squeeze my nieces’ cheeks until they were bruised (I wouldn’t of course… just saying it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant) and I constantly hug their little mama, my Fisky Sister. And just on Saturday night, I noticed myself affectionately grabbing my newest cousin-in-law’s arm while telling her how beautiful she was at her wedding reception.

Is it age? Is it time? Is it comfort level?

Is it exposure to some sort of toxin? Do you think I have holes in my brain???

Who knows what it is. But I appear to be going soft. And I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Most of the time, I’m still awkward and kind of shy and mostly uncool and definitely more of an ugher than a hugger. It’s just that lately, there seem to be more of those moments when a spontaneous hug just happens.

Ugh. Hugs.

 

Except, hugs? Are all hugs really the same?

 

When I’m having a rough time and I talk to my dad on the phone, he always gives me a virtual hug. He says, “Ready for a hug? [squeeeeeez-ing sound!]” and I always feel better just knowing that my dad wanted to hug me. And lately, I’ve been getting and giving lots of other virtual hugs. (Related: Have you seen my friend Dawn’s most recent post?! Someday I’ll tell you about the conversations behind the scenes– talk about virtual hugs. My goodness.) And what that makes me realize is that we can hug people with more than just our arms!

We can hug someone with our words. With a smile. With a facial expression. With some cookies, a note, an email, a text, a phone call, a Facebook poke, a blog comment, a held door, an emptied dishwasher, a well-intentioned prayer, any other small thought or act of kindness. And even if you’re disinclined to actually touch, except certain people on certain occasions, like me, there’s still lots of ways to hug– to show you care.

{Source}
{Source}

Physical hugs sometimes.

Metaphorical hugs always.

 

PS: It’s snowing at underthetapestry.com for the winter season! It’s so awesome!! Make sure you check it out! What a sweet option, WordPress!!

H is for Hermione. Obviously.

H was almost for Harry Potter. Almost. I mean, I love Harry Potter. LOVE IT.

But my favorite part of Harry Potter:

HERMIONE!

{Source}
{Source}

Obviously.

The hair! The brain! The condescension!

She’s perfection 🙂

I knew it from the moment she introduced herself and one-upped the boys with her oculus repairo spell.

Also, I love that my brother called her HER-ME-OH-KNEE until we saw the movie. It makes me smile so big. Until I remember that he got pissed off about something after like the fifth book and never finished them. Can you even imagine the insane level of dissatisfaction? Maybe someday he’ll finish the series up. (Please, Stubby?)

I’m sure it’s pretty obvious to you why I like Hermione so much– I totally relate to her. On so many levels.

First: the hair. We’ve talked about that before, mine gets pretty insane. Once, my friend Aimie‘s kids were in my office and we were talking about Harry Potter and I told them my hair was just like Hermione’s. Noah didn’t believe me, so I pulled it out of the ponytail it was in to demonstrate. Both of their jaws dropped– it was too cute! Yep, my hair is a big, frizzy mess. But if it’s good enough for Hermione, it’s good enough for me! (And it’s also why I do better in the north!)

Second: the brain! My brain is definitely my biggest, and strongest, asset. (But seriously, I have a very big head, I imagine that I must have quite a bit of brains in there to fill all the space.) I thrive on knowledge, on learning. I looooove to read. Anything and everything. In fact, I used to take the dictionary into the bathroom with me as a little kid (ask my parents, it’s 100% true) and I’d sit on the toilet and soak in all the new words. I also read my encyclopedia set from cover to cover and bookmarked all of the interesting pages (i.e. I bookmarked pretty much all of the pages). If only I weren’t a muggle… think of all the magic there would be to learn.* (I’m not kidding, you guys, my head is literally real big.)

And third: let’s be honest, it’s totally the academic condescension. I’m the worst. I try really hard to be cool about people not knowing things, and yet… I’m kind of not. I’m a snob. Sue me.

That whole “it’s not wingardium leviOsa it’s wingardium leviosA” thing is totally me. To a T. Or an H, even 🙂

And I know other people have noticed. As recently as grad school, my advisor said to me that she thought I might have a hard time teaching because I’d have to be patient with people who weren’t as smart as me.

Oooo. Burn on me!

But I can recognize that truth about myself. We all have our flaws… even me and Hermione.

 

*Seriously, though. I am half magical, on my mom’s side. Not 100% muggle. I’m not even kidding. My Grandma Rita’s parents, Alex and Rachel (my namesake) Liberacki were professional magicians.

Those are my great-grandparents! Impressed? Me too!
Those are my great-grandparents! Impressed? Me too!

No, I do not know how they do that. Little bit of whiffle dust, I suppose. I did learn lots of tricks though when I was younger– magic in the talent show was totally my thing. Except for the year when I sang Matchmaker, Matchmaker with two other girls and three mops. Or the year I read Shel Silverstein poems…

Oh man, I am such a Hermione!

 

… Read on if you’re a die hard HP fan like me …

I wore this sweet necklace to work today and I was suddenly aware of it’s heaviness against my chest in the middle of the day, which is when I realized:

This Petoskey stone is the horcrux in which I keep the Michigan girl part of my soul.

It's a Petoskey stone... and when it flips? Michigan, both peninsulas, on the back! YES!
It’s a Petoskey stone… and when it flips? Michigan, both peninsulas, on the back! YES!

That way, even if I die, that bit of me never will.

Voldermort may have been on to something.

Congress, take note– that is how you act bipartisan!

 

Later, muggles!!