Category: Be Inspired

How to Survive the Next Four Years Like a French Woman

.Reading time 3 minutes.

Just what is their secret? French women seem to do everything with an effortless _je ne sais quoi—_whether it’s eating, dressing, dating, or resisting fascism. Our resident Parisienne shares her tips for elegantly surviving the next two hundred or so weeks.

Thank Invest in Staple Pieces

Don’t splurge on every knickknack that catches your eye! French women have an inborn talent for recognizing quality and buying things that last. Like a copper I.U.D., which will see you through to 2021.

Flirt Constantly

It’s in a French girl’s blood to flirt with anyone who crosses her path—quel charme! You’ll find such a tactic helpful when you or a loved one is detained without explanation, the recipient of death threats, harassed at a protest, or arrested for blasphemy.

Always Keep Perfume on Hand

Which is to say, pepper spray.

Sip Your Wine

French women don’t drink to get drunk; they savor a glass or six of Beaujolais in the face of crushing anxiety over the brisk pace at which Donald Trump is enacting his campaign promises.

Maintain an Air of Mystery

Don’t give it all up at once! French women know that withholding information is seductive. When an alt-right bro gaslights you, keep some choice expletives in reserve until you get to know each other better. 😉

Portion Control

The reason French women seem to be able to indulge in so many sinful treats and stay trim is their immaculate portion control. Learn to stop after just one serving of Twitter, cable news, or video of a Nazi getting punched and you can enjoy these choice indulgences every day.

Eat Yogurt

It’s good for digestion.

Embrace Imperfection

So there are still a few Trump apologists in your newsfeed (family). Let it go! French women don’t get worked up over the small stuff. Donate to Planned Parenthood in their names and call it a day.

Take Off One Thing Before You Leave the House

Do you really need mace, a rape whistle, and nunchucks every time you go outside? Probably yes, given the prevalence and normalization of violence against women and minorities since Election Day. Via the NewYorker by Krithika Baragur. But it’s much more chic to pick just one for the good fight.

xxxxx,

Janice

10 Things That Changed Me After the Death of a Parent

.Reading time 4 minutes.

I don’t think there is anything that can prepare you to lose a parent. It is a larger blow in adulthood I believe, because you are at the point where you are actually friends with your mother or father. Their wisdom has finally sunk in and you know that all of the shit you rolled your eyes at as a teenager really was done out of love and probably saved your life a time or two.

I lost both of mine two years apart; my mother much unexpected and my father rather quickly after a cancer diagnosis. My mom was the one person who could see into my soul and could call me out in the most effective way. She taught me what humanity, empathy and generosity means. My father was the sarcastic realist in the house and one of the most forgiving people I have ever met. If you wanted it straight, with zero bullshit; just go ask my dad.

Grief runs its course and it comes in stages, but I was not prepared for it to never fully go away.

1 My phone is never more than 1 foot away from me at bedtime, because the last time I did that I missed the call that my mother died.

2 The very thought of my mother’s death, at times, made me physically ill for about six months after she died. I literally vomited.

3 Their deaths have at times ripped the remainder of our family apart. I did my best to honor their wishes and sometimes that made me the bad guy. The burden of that was immense, but I understood why I was chosen. It made me stronger as a person, so for that I am grateful.

4 I’m pissed that my son didn’t get to experience them as grandparents. I watched it five times before his birth and I feel robbed. He would have adored them and they him.

5 I would not trade my time with them for anything, but sometimes I think it would have been easier had you died when I was very young. The memories would be less.

6 Don’t bitch about your parents in front of me. You will get an earful about gratitude and appreciation. As a “Dead Parents Club” member, I would take your place in a heartbeat, so shut your mouth. Get some perspective on how truly fleeting life is.

7 It’s like being a widow — a “club” you never wanted to join. Where do I return this unwanted membership, please?

8 Other club members are really the only people who can truly understand what it does to a person. They just get it. There is no other way to explain it.

9 Life does go on, but there will be times even years later, you will still break down like it happened yesterday.

10 When you see your friends or even strangers with their mom or dad, you will sometimes be jealous. Envious of the lunch date they have. Downright pissed that your mom can’t plan your baby shower. Big life events are never ever the same again.

Lisa Schmidt is a Dating and Relationship coach in Detroit and the author of her own blog. She streams regularly on Periscope and is contributor for several online publications. Read via Huffpost. Relationship questions can also be sent to her directly Ask Lisa Here

xxx,

Janice

I DON’T HELP MY WIFE. YOU SHOULDN’T EITHER.

.Reading time 3 minutes.

I do not help my wife.

A friend came to my house for coffee, we sat and talked about life. At some point in the conversation, I said, “I’m going to wash the dishes and I’ll be right back.”

He looked at me as if I had told him I was going to build a space rocket. Then he said to me with admiration but a little perplexed: “I’m glad you help your wife, I do not help because when I do, my wife does not praise me. Last week I washed the floor and no thanks.”

I went back to sit with him and explained that I did not “help” my wife. Actually, my wife does not need help, she needs a partner. I am a partner at home and through that society are divided functions, but it is not a “help” to do household chores.

I do not help my wife clean the house because I live here too and I need to clean it too.

I do not help my wife to cook because I also want to eat and I need to cook too.

I do not help my wife wash the dishes after eating because I also use those dishes.

I do not help my wife with her children because they are also my children and my job is to be a father.

I do not help my wife to wash, spread or fold clothes, because the clothes are also mine and my children.

I am not a help at home, I am part of the house. And as for praising, I asked my friend when it was the last time after his wife finished cleaning the house, washing clothes, changing bed sheets, bathing her children, cooking, organizing, etc. You said thank you

But a thank you of the type: Wow, sweetheart !!! You are fantastic!!!

Does that seem absurd to you? Are you looking strange? When you, once in a lifetime, cleaned the floor, you expected in the least, a prize of excellence with great glory … why? You never thought about that, my friend?

Maybe because for you, the macho culture has shown that everything is her job.

Perhaps you have been taught that all this must be done without having to move a finger? Then praise her as you wanted to be praised, in the same way, with the same intensity. Give her a hand, behave like a true companion, not as a guest who only comes to eat, sleep, bathe and satisfy needs … Feel at home. In his house.

The real change of our society begins in our homes, let us teach our sons and daughters the real sense of fellowship!

Author unknown but truly awesome…via momminghard

xxxxxx,

Janice