Читать книгу Not Ready for Granny Panties--The 11 Commandments for Avoiding Granny Panties - Mary Fran Bontempo - Страница 5

Tony Soprano was no dope.

A thug, morally reprehensible, perhaps, but not a stooge. For Tony was capable of dispensing priceless advice in a word—“Fuhgeddaboudit.”

(Okay, so it’s really “Forget About It,” but if Tony says it’s “Fuhgeddaboudit,” I’m not going to correct him.)

Truth be told, that one word (or three, but who’s counting?) speaks volumes. Of course, when Tony said it, he was usually advising some guy to forget something he’d witnessed, for the guy’s own health and well-being. “Fuhgeddaboudit” or something pretty bad is probably going to happen, at least in Tony’s world.

But Tony was on to something, something we women would do well to remember—or forget, that is.

We spend countless hours of our lives trying to remember stuff. Where we have to go, what we have to do, who we have to get where. We remember who said what to whom, when it was said (especially if we’re talking to our spouses and the statement in question was made twenty years ago) and the vocal inflection with which it was said. (How many times have you said, “What’s THAT supposed to mean?” to a seemingly innocuous statement made by a spouse who immediately regrets opening his mouth?)

We keep mental lists which expand exponentially on a daily basis. And invariably, we forget something—or someone. Ever leave a kid at the orthodontist because you forgot to pick him up after dropping off his sister at her piano lesson, stopping at the bank and fetching the dry cleaning? Come on; you know you did.

Try as we might, we just can’t remember it all. Which is the point. We’re never going to remember everything; it’s useless to even try. (Except for the kid, of course. But he’d find his way home eventually.) Trying mightily and forgetting anyway just sets us up for failure, and really, haven’t you had enough of that?

As we get older, Mother Nature tries to drive home the point that attempts to remember everything are futile by stripping our minds like a field for planting—a field on which nothing is growing, that is. In the last week, how often have you walked into the next room with purpose and direction only to forget why you went in there in the first place? Was it once? Twice? Ten times? Or have you forgotten that, too?

Make no mistake; forgetting is the natural order of things. You, at one time or another, are going to forget your middle name, your best friend’s phone number and the fact that your youngest child hates tomatoes. You will also forget a plethora of other stuff.

And you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because while your kid will register shock and horror that you no longer have the complete itemized list of her likes and dislikes committed to memory as you did when she was small, she is now old enough to remind you that she hates tomatoes. Even better, she’s old enough to make her own vegetable for dinner. Further, how important is a middle name, anyway? And check your phone; your girlfriend’s number is in there. (If you forget how to look up your contacts, ask the kid who hates the tomatoes. If she’s still speaking to you, that is.)

The worst part of all of this forced memorization is that what it also forces you into is a gigantic pair of Granny Panties. Trying to hold onto everything for everyone makes us cranky, miserable and it robs us of time—for ourselves. When you get right down to it, probably ninety percent of what we’re trying so desperately to hold onto doesn’t mean a thing. So instead of looking at nature’s gradual elimination of totally inconsequential information from your head as a sign that the end is near, see it as a passport to personal freedom.

Do you know when your computer crashes and that little message comes up advising you that a memory dump is commencing? Embrace the dump. If your mind is divesting itself of some of its contents, go with it. Let go of anything that’s painful, old news or simply not important.

If it has no relevance to the moment at hand, if it doesn’t impact your life in any major way, if it makes you miserable to mull it over, turn it loose and Fuhgeddaboudit. As in Tony’s world, it can be good for your health. When you de-clutter your brain, you make room for other stuff. Fun stuff. Interesting stuff. Stuff that might even make life more enjoyable.

None of this means that you abandon your actual responsibilities. If it’s really important, write it down and slap it on the fridge. (You know you’ll end up there at least fourteen times throughout the day; you’re bound to see it.) But if it’s not essential, if you don’t have to take your mother to the gynecologist (Dear God, yes, it’s come to that), then forget it.

Forget old grudges. Forget the fact that you were passed over for a promotion five years ago and you still feel the bile rise every time you remember that the boss’s nephew got the job. (It’s the boss’s nephew; of course he got the job.) Stop replaying the argument with your sister-in-law over and over in your head. (If you didn’t make that witty comeback, it’s too late now anyway.) Forget that the auto mechanic fleeced you and charged you for repairs you didn’t need. (You already paid the bill; just don’t go back there.)

And for heaven’s sake, forget everything that is, or should be, within the realm of your kids’ (we’re talking adult “children,” here) responsibilities. We served as their personal assistants for their entire childhoods. It’s time to let them remember their own stuff from now on. Even if you do remember when their school loan payment is due, tell them you forget. If you don’t, you’ll set a precedent that will have you calling them each month to remind them to pay their mortgage, their electric bill and their internet service bill. (Assuming they ever move out, of course.)

Forget to do the kids’ laundry. Forget to change their sheets and clean their rooms. Forget to pick up whatever it was they asked you to get them at the store. Refuse to serve as their personal calendar, recalling when they have to make the next dentist appointment or renew their gym membership. Occasionally, forget to make dinner. Or just buy bread and lunchmeat. Let the bear cubs forage for themselves.

It’s also okay to forget where your husband put his keys. Or his phone. Or his briefcase. Or his jacket. Or his favorite tie. It’s not that you don’t love him, or care about his or the kids’ happiness. It’s just that you’re not responsible for it. You’re not responsible for keeping track of all the things that keep everyone else on track, even though you’ve set yourself up as the one who steers the ship and all of its minutiae.

While you being the mistress of your domain and its inhabitants is pretty much essential early on, in order to keep your household from bursting into flames, now it’s time to “Fuhgeddaboudit” and force, if necessary, everyone to remember their own stuff. It’s not about being mean-spirited; it’s about independence and self-sufficiency for them, relief for you. And it’s time for everyone to move on, whether they like it or not.

Forgetting, not only your own extra baggage, but everyone else’s as well, is your key to release, a release that will open your mind, and your life, to new possibilities, ones that are infinitely more engaging than replaying old hurts or recalling when your daughter’s car is due for inspection. Forgetting stuff that isn’t yours to remember or things that you shouldn’t bother remembering, will also keep you out of a nasty pair of Granny Panties. Freedom for your head, freedom (figuratively) for your bum.

So pay attention to what Mother Nature and Tony Soprano are trying to tell you. Forgetting can be good for your well being. If you must remember something, again, write it down and put it up on the fridge. If you can remember where you keep the paper and pens, that is.

Try This!

Below, list ten things that you think you “have to” remember to take care of this week. After you’ve completed the list, review it and cross out anything that is really someone else’s responsibility. Then, “Fuhgeddaboudit!” and inform the masses that they’ll have to remember their own “stuff” from now on.

1.________________________________________

2.________________________________________

3.________________________________________

4.________________________________________

5.________________________________________

6.________________________________________

7.________________________________________

8.________________________________________

9.________________________________________

10._______________________________________

Next, write down five things that you’ve been holding on to—old grudges, hurts, perceived failures—anything that makes you feel lousy but is no longer an active part of your life. Then, review the list…and CROSS OUT EVERY ITEM. In other words, “Fuhgeddaboudit!” once and for all.

1.________________________________________

2.________________________________________

3.________________________________________

4.________________________________________

5.________________________________________

Now, while we’re on the subject of forgetting…