Time Together: Better than SuperGlue to Strengthen Your Bond

I'm a stranger-talker (unlike, say, the famous "Seinfeld "close-talker). If I'm in line somewhere, say a Panera's or a Starbucks, chances are I'll talk to you. I'll make some comment about one thing or the other. The vast majority of people are friendly enough to chat back (once in a while I get one of those fake "ho-ho" laughs that really means, "Willya leave me the heck alone already?")

Part of my urge to talk to others in line is that I really do like people--I've had some very interesting conversations in line at the DMV. You really can learn alot from the little old lady in the flowered hat. The other part is that I hate the silence that typically accompanies standing in line. It's a weird silence, half-humiliating, half uncomfortable. So I make an innocuous comment or a little joke to break the oppressive air. It's the same reason I start conversations in elevators.

Once in a while, these casual, killing-the-time-in-line conversations detour into all-out confessionals--not by me, but by the person I'm talking to. I've been told about shaky marriages, disappointing career moves, lost savings, and medical conditions. Once, while in line at a coffee shop with my sister, the woman I'd been chatting with behind me actually removed her shoe to show me a disturbing growth on her foot. (All I could do was nod politely--I wanted to say, eeeeeuuuuuuwwwwwwwwwww gross! but that really would have been rude. Of course, one could then question how rude it is for her to have removed her shoe in the first place, but I digress.)

These occasional confessionals got me to thinking, though--how many people out there are missing those important connections in their lives that help them get through the day (and night). I suspect that there are many of us out there--with friends, family, even husbands and wives--who feel like that fundamental link to others is frayed or missing. Once you've lost it, it can seem next to impossible to re-establish that vital bond that makes you feel valued. So when someone--even a stranger--shows a bit of interest in you, the need to have someone for Pete's sake listen to you overwhelms you and you end up sharing far more about yourself than anyone needs or wants to know.

(Besides, that's what blogs are for. Wink, wink)

So how to re-establish connections? It might help to really think about why the connections were lost in the first place. In my own life, there have been relationships that have fallen apart for a very simple reason: one or the other person did not put in the effort to keep the relationship going. Seems fairly obvious, right? Think about it though: when you first meet someone and there is that *spark*--and I'm talking platonic sparks, too, like between two people who just know they're destined to be best friends--you do what it takes to keep tht spark going. You call the person, you spend time with them, you have conversations with them about, well, anything. A conversation doesn't have to be "deep" or "emotional" to be revealing--or bonding.

What to do? Uh--duh...seems fairly obvious. Yet interesting how we all need to be reminded of it (including me): put in a little effort! If you feel something is slipping away from you--be it a best friendship, a marriage, a collaboration with a co-worker, what have you--invite that person out and talk. Not about the fraying (or frayed) connection, but just about, well, stuff. Get back to spending time together. It doesn't have to be hours upon hours upon hours of "quality time." Even a 1/2 hour at a local coffee spot can go a long way towards strengthening a relationship.

I know people are busy, but come on! Making time for the people in your life you value most should be a priority. "But I keep connected through Facebook!" Uh-uh. Facebook--and I'm a frequent user and likely it's biggest fan--is a pale substitute for real communication. FB is great for keeping up with the basics of friends' lives (especially if they live a distance away), but if you really want that bond, that connection, that unassailable link, you need to spend time together. Would you conduct your marriage only through Facebook? See....

I remember chatting with my seat-mate on a business flight about 10 years ago. He was talking dispiritedly about how his grown children never called him any more or came to see him. I asked him if he ever called or invited them over. I will never forget the look on his face--total shock. As if the idea of him calling his kids had never crossed his mind. He immediately said, "Nah, they don't want to hear from me." How on earth did he know that? I had recently lost my own dad (a young man, only 49). I told my seat-mate I would have given anything to talk to my dad again, and that he needed to give his kids a call--give them the chance to have him in their lives. I have no idea if he ever did it--we changed subjects, the plane landed, we headed off into our different lives. But I think about that man from time to time. I hope he did call his kids. It's hard work to re-establish a bond, but it will be incredibly rewarding.

So next time you're in line somewhere and the person next to you starts an idle conversation, you may look around and see me standing there. Or you might find someone who may be a little lonely, a little lost. Friendly conversation can go a long way towards making someone else's day better. Then take a moment to call up somebody you care about where the bond that brought you together may be fraying around the edges a bit. And make that all-important plan to spend some time together.

Children's Museums Are the Perfect Way to Teach Love of the Arts

Children's Museums Are the Perfect Way to Teach Love of the Arts

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Meip Gies: What We Can Learn

Meip Gies died yesterday.

If the name is unfamiliar to you, don’t worry: it was to me as well. Yet the woman played perhaps the largest role in preserving the life experience of someone who, 35 years later, played a huge role in my life: Anne Frank. And I am talking, of course, about the one of the widest read non-fiction books of all time: "Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl.”

A Real Girl's Diary

I was 10 when I read the book for the first time, and it changed me at a fundamental level. Until then, I’d been pretty much unaware of the sheer brutality with which people can treat each other (minus, of course, certain experiences with schoolyard bullies). At first, I didn’t believe my mom when she said it was a real girl’s real diary. How could that be? I wondered. How could people kidnap and kill other just because they were a certain religion? It just seemed so wrong. I’d been fortunate to be raised in a mixed neighborhood with parents who taught that we judge people on who they are, rather than what we fear about them. I literally couldn’t get my mind around the concept that other people didn’t believe the same thing—and were willing to kill because of it.

I strongly identified with Anne. Like me, she wanted to be a writer when she grew up. I tried to put myself in the position of this girl, just a few years older than me, who was forced to hide out for two years in the attic of the very business her dad had worked in. Never leaving, rarely even moving around. Relying on others for food, protection, and simple human kindness.

An Ordinary Woman Faced an Extraordinary Test

And that’s where Meip Gies came in. For the two years the Frank family secluded themselves in the attic, she brought them food, blankets, books to read, and news of the outside world. A young woman herself, only in her 30s, and a Christian (so apparently “safe” from the German’s hunt for “undesirables”) she quite literally risked her life to protect the family. And we know how the story ends: the Frank family was eventually betrayed and rounded up by the German SS. Meip was nearly killed when they were discovered; it was only through the pity of a German soldier that she was allowed to escape punishment.

The death of Meip Gies saddened me, even though I was unfamiliar with her (I vaguely remember reading about her years ago and I know she is hailed as a hero in throughout the Netherlands and in Jewish community). I pictured myself in her position: what would I have done, if faced with the same choice she was: either help this family, let them try to manage on their own, or turn them in. One article I read about her quotes her as saying it was a simple choice. Had she not helped them, she would have faced a lifetime of regret and sleepless nights. And that, to her, was worse than the risk of death she faced.

Helping Others is Simple in a Civilized Society

We all like to think of ourselves as “good people.” I know I certainly feel good when I donate to charity, go to church, organize a fundraiser or help out a friend. I think (not exactly in words, but you know what I mean) “I’m a good person; I’ve made a change in the world today.” And then I can live with other things I do that are perhaps not so “good” (like arguing with my husband, yelling at the kids, or deliberately not letting in the car in front of me because I’m in a bad mood.)

But I propose that, even under the economic strain our society has been in since December 2007, it is relatively easy for us to be “good.” The majority of us have the necessities we need to get by—and often, more than the necessities. America is, by and large, a civil society. Not always, but much of the time. We don’t bludgeon our neighbor over the head because we want the steak he’s grilling on the BBQ. We don’t punch the server who is taking forever to take our order. Generally, we help each other out. We like to think that, even in extreme situations, we would stand up for others. Fight for them. And some do—certainly the members of the military do. Police officers and firefighters regularly take risks to help others that the rest of us find unimaginable.

A Uncivilized Scenario: Helping Others at the Cost of Your Own Life

But there is nothing civil about the scenario faced by Meip Gies in the spring of 1942: An invading army has captured your country. The officers of the law you relied on for protection have been murdered or have surrendered. All around you people are being rounded up—because of their religion or some other aspect that makes them “undesirable”—and taken away, never to be seen again. There are enemy soldiers everywhere. People all around you are turning in their Jewish neighbors for fear of being considered a sympathizer and having their own families kidnapped. You are literally at risk of imprisonment and death for even protesting against the treatment of your fellow human beings. And your boss—a man you admire and respect—comes to you for help.

You are put in the position of literally laying your life—and the lives of your family—on the line for others. This is not like donating a hundred dollars to the Fred Jordan Mission so the hungry can be fed. This isn’t delivering groceries to homebound seniors. Those are wonderful things, good things, and not to be discounted, but they’re not the same as actually risking death for another.

What Would I Have Done?

So when I put myself in the scenario Meip faced, it becomes more difficult to “be good.” Some people will instantly and righteously claim: “Oh, no doubt, I’d help them out.” And some of them likely really would say “yes” immediately. But others might not—they’d fear for their lives, the lives of their children, they’d fear for their livelihoods. They’d need time to think it over and access the risks. As I walked the dog this morning I thought about what I would do, if the situation in the Netherlands in 1942 suddenly became the situation of Orange County in 2010. If someone I knew came to me for protection from being hauled off God-knows-where, would I help him or her? I like to think—and I do believe—that the answer is yes.

But what if it was someone I didn’t know who desperately needed my help, in that situation? Again, after some thought, my answer is yes. What if it was someone I deeply disliked? Again, yes (perhaps with some reservations...). But of course, in real life we often act differently than we do in our heads.

She Couldn't Save Anne, But She Saved Anne's Experience for Us

Meip Gies was an ordinary woman, a secretary. She acted in real life the way most of us hope we would act if faced with that situation. In the end, two years of effort couldn’t save the family—Anne and her sister died of typhoid, their mother of starvation (she intentionally stopped eating after her beloved daughters died) in the camps. But what Meip did manage to save was Anne Frank’s life experience. A terrible experience, to be sure, but one millions of people all over the world have learned from and made changes because of. After the SS soldiers took Anne and her family (and two others who had taken refuge in the attic) away, Meip went upstairs and gathered what was not torn apart by the Germans. Among the papers strewn about was Anne's diary. When Otto Frank returned years later after being liberated from the concentration camp, Meip presented the diary to him as a memento of his little girl. Evenutally, Otto had it published, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Meip herself put it in a Washington Post interview many years later, she was “glad that (I) could help fulfill Anne’s lifelong ambition of being immortalized through her writing.”

Making Resolutions Gives Your Child a Goal to Shoot For!

As 2009 bids the world goodnight and 2010 can be seen peeping around the corner, Americans’ thoughts turn to the symbolic fresh start the New Year brings. According to a 2007 CNN survey, 60% of adults take this yearly opportunity to turn over a new leaf by making resolutions that range from the ubiquitous “lose weight” to the excruciatingly specific “avoid the 405 on Fridays between 3:00 and 6:00pm.”

Just like adults, children benefit from making resolutions. Whether a child is mid-way through kindergarten or getting ready to tour colleges in the spring, the key to helping a child put their best foot forward in the new year is making sure their resolutions are in writing, specific, measurable, and, most important, their own.

Break Out that Pen

After being told what to eat, how to behave, and when to go to bed, the idea of having some control in their life is exciting for kids. New Year’s resolutions let children take charge of a certain aspect of their life and run with it. That’s why writing those resolutions down is so important. It makes them real—plus, seeing resolutions in print lets the child prioritize what is most important to them. It gives them control.

Encourage your child to focus on two or three main resolutions; more than that is overwhelming to a child whose daily life is already filled with responsibilities.

Be Specific and Measurable

“”Clean my room every day” and “get better grades” may seem straightforward to adults, but to a child, these resolutions are much too broad. Does “clean my room” mean even under the bed (where the monsters live)? “Get better grades” is overwhelming to a student who studies diligently but can rise no higher than a B- in Calculus.

By outlining exactly what the resolution addresses, the child knows what is expected of him or her. With a simple change of wording “clean my room every day” becomes “make my bed every day.” The resolution suddenly becomes measurable—as will the child’s grin of accomplishment when they realize they’ve made their bed every day for a week. The victory will inspire then to keep making their bed. And “get better grades”? Children generally know whether or not they are truly putting in their best effort in a particular subject. So when “get better grades” becomes “study math for 30 minutes on weekdays” children are no longer discouraged by the vague and intimidating “get better grades” resolution. They know what they need to do and they’ll earn those grades.

Let Your Child Come Up with Their Own Resolutions

The impulse to “direct” your child’s resolutions can be overwhelming. You may not see the value in “put my pencils in my red pencil box at the end of the day.” Keep in mind that your child is much more likely to keep their resolutions if they have come up with their list on their own. A little guidance from you can be helpful if your son or daughter is having trouble coming up with ideas, but ultimately, your support of their resolutions is truly most important to your child.

Remember, “practice my handball game” is just as important to them as “take a greater role in office decision making” is to you. Being a child comes with its own unique pressures and rules. Keep that in mind, and even if the resolutions they come up with don’t make sense to you, you will at least understand why they chose them.

Follow Your Child’s Example

60% of American adults make resolutions—and studies show most abandon them by Valentine’s Day. When it comes to setting resolutions you won’t break, use the same guidelines you’ve set for your child: put them in writing, be specific, make them measurable, and make sure they’re one you truly believe in. Together, you and your child can celebrate the New Year—and all you’ve accomplished—all year long.

Put "Take-a Breath" on Your List

Here's a scenario many will find familiar: you have carefully complied a list of "things-you-absolutely-must-do-or-the-world-will-come-to-a-shuddering-halt." You set out with grim determination to see them accomplished. You actually believe you will, against the odds, get them done--quickly, efficiently, and without complaint. And then....

Your list evaporates the moment you get to your desk (or enter the cluttered kitchen, the frantic construction site, the busy store, etc.). You stand there for several minutes, nonplussed, wondering what the heck it was you needed to do today. It's like your brain has stopped working. You consult your list, only to be baffled by your own dashed off hieroglyphics. Is that letter a "s" -- or is it the number 8? And why did you write, "Moo-lah get, base flight"? You know it meant something (or at least you hope it did) when you wrote it down, but you've since forgotten what your own short-hand was meant to describe. It's about a thousand times worse if your a left hander with atrocious handwriting (ahem, such as yours truly): not only can you not understand what you meant, but you can't read a single letter of a single word.

Such is my life these days. I am running around frantically half the time, doing a bunch of stuff not on "the list" because I can't read my own handwriting--or I've left the list "somewhere safe" only to forget where it is. Thus, I spend much of my life feeling like I'm whirling around, actually accomplishing very little. Or so it seems on certain days.

And the resulting feeling? Stress--mind-numbing, heart-pounding, headache-inducing, sex-drive-killing stress. And I'm not the only one pulled asunder by this particular bugaboo.

According to a November 2009 study released by the American Psychologicial Association, 75% of us (Americans, in this survey, although I would be surprised if it was much different in other countries, considering how interconnected we are all these days) suffer from moderate to high levels of stress in the last month: 24% extreme and 51% moderate. Imagine that: waking us, day after day, feeling that wrapped-in-a-straitjacket pressure. Especially after spending a night tossing and turning, as 47% of survey respondents reported. Or, here's more:

• 45% report irritability or anger
• 43% report fatigue
• 40% report lack of interest, motivation or energy (sounds like depression to me, which, I suspect, is also an outgrowth of sustained stress)
• 34% report headaches
• 34% report feeling depressed or sad (see? Told ja)
• 32% report feeling as if they will burst into tears (I've done this myself, several times, in the last few moths)
• 27% report upset stomach or indigestion as a result of stress

So what happened to us? Oh, sure, life has never been the bucolic, fluffy-cloud existence we'd all like to believe it was at one point. But there have been times that the collective American stress-level has been relatively low. So what's the change?

The dire economy is a handy scapegoat--and does, legitimately, play a role in the reported increase of stress from fall 2007 (when the Great Recession began). But there's more to it. According to some psychologists, the ever-increasing pressure brought to bear on workers by 24/7 access to electronic devices is a major source of stress. There is simply no getting away from the job. Period. (my husband received four work -related "emergency" calls ON Thanksgiving--and he sells silicon chips. Biiiigggg emergency. And did he answer take the call mid-turkey? You guess.) Email is a huge source of stress for many people--and studies have shown people can actually become addicted to checking email. 43% of people in the survey actually sleep with their email devices nearby, to listen for incoming email. That's just wrong. Add to that 24/7 cable news, where with the click of a channel you are treated to horrifying disasters from every corner of the world, bloviating commentators intent on ripping our society into enemy camps, and the soft-core porn of vicious celebrity gossip, and it's little wonder our brains are close to bursting.

Even the good things cause stress--having a baby, buying a house, and Christmas have a score of 40, 31 and 12 points on the Holmes-Rahe scale, respectively. Actually getting what you want, in and of itself, can cause stress. (On a side note, I follow the satirical website "The Onion" and watched the funniest "report" about Pres Obama going out for cigarettes and never coming back. Very funny stuff--yet with a grain of truth, as all jokes have. If there was ever a man who is under stress, it's that poor man. I swear, his hair gets more gray every day. I wonder if when the Pres looks back on it, if he's ever sorry he got his wish to step into the highest office in the land? Inheriting a recession, two wars, a healthcare system in shambles, et al.? A perfect example "be careful what you wish for...")

So what to do about it? Health care professionals proscribe diet, exercise and valium. Maybe not Valium--Paxil works pretty well (do I speak from experience? I'll never tell). I'm just kidding about the Valium and Paxal. The vast majority of doctors turn first to recommending exercise and relaxation to help with stress. But despite our doctors admonitions, fewer Americans actually are taking time out for themselves. In fact, I do believe that "taking time out for myself" is on my famous list, but seeing as how I can't find my list, I'll never know. EHealth MD advocates "Tuning In, Analyzing, Responding" to deal with stress, but to be quite honest, that's just three more things to put on my list of stuff I'll never get to. Plus, if I start that, then I'll probably find even more things in my life that stress me out than I was even aware of .... thus, causing more stress. Sigh.

So here's my proposal: make a new list. What??? Seriously. Take your list (if you can find it, that is) and rip it into many tiny little pieces. You'll note two things right away: 1.) the world does not come to a shuddering halt if you don't get the things on your list done and 2.) your brain will (fingers crossed) suddenly begin working again. Now that the dreaded list is gone, make a new list. Really. With just three tasks:

-Take a breath.

-Turn off the email device.

-Stop watching TV.

That's it. Simple. Yet of all the tasks in the world, these as possibly the three hardest to actually accomplish. But I can (virtually) promise that if you do, you will find that all the other things you need to accomplish suddenly will seem easier. And you won't even need your old list at all.

Which is just as well, because if you're like me, you've either lost it or can't read your own handwriting anyway.

The Empty Seat at the Table

This past weekend, according to my highly unscientific FaceBook observations, many of my friends freed their Christmas boxes from exile in the attic and began the fun (if somewhat arduous) task of decorating the house for the holidays. I, too, spent the majority of Sunday afternoon decorating (and toasting the season with several glasses of egg nog, natch--compete with a dash of Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum). I then wandered around my house, admiring my handiwork. I'm an over-the-top fan of faux pine boughs. My house now looks like a pine tree exploded in it--but in a nice way.

As I meandered from living room to family room to kitchen, adjusting a wreath here, straightening a candy dish there, I envisioned upcoming Christmas dinner. In the past, we've had as many as 24 people here. And since my dining room is approximately the size of a teaspoon, we've moved chairs and couches out of the the living room and replaced them with those 6-ft tables you get at Costco. It's the only way to fit everyone in. This year my younger sis is taking on the Christmas dinner challenge--possessed of a larger dining room than I, it is unlikely we will have to cart all her living room furniture off to the garage to accommodate the hungry hoards. And I'll be helping her cook--we plan to make a day of it, along with my mother, her mother-n-law, and her sis-in-law--cooking, talking, drinking wine, making candy, the whole bit. It will be the kind of day that, for lack of a more original phrase, makes memories.

And when we all sit down at the table that evening, it will be a wonderful time with family--it always is. Nevertheless, there will be an empty seat at the table. In a parallel universe, my dad is sitting in that seat. He's smiling, laughing, piling food on the plate, drinking tea (always tea--with milk and copious amounts of sugar). Perhaps he's even talking about that near-miss in '97, when (thank God) doctors narrowly missed catching a blood clot in his lungs that came this close to killing him.

But that's a parallel universe. In ours, my dad actually did succumb to the blood clot in his lungs. Misdiagnosed repeatedly for the last two weeks of his life, he died, 49 years old, on his bedroom floor in the early morning hours of April 2, 1997. It wasn't until the autopsy that his cause of death was discovered. There's a whole story there about the aftermath of this discovery, but even all these years later it is incredibly painful to talk about. Suffice to say that anyone who believes that bringing a lawsuit against a medical group is easy--or a way to 'get rich'--they need to talk to someone who has actually been through this particular kind of hell before they pass judgement.

So nearly thirteen years have passed, and with them, twelve Thanksgivings, twelve Christmases, the birth of seven grandchildren, and various other milestones that he never lived to enjoy. Knowing my dad, he would be scolding me right now for dwelling on what never-was, instead of what-is. He would wish for us to honor his memory by living to the fullest the years he never had a chance to experience. But it's hard. So hard. He was such a good man, with so much left to give. The rock of our family, really. And he was robbed by circumstances and human error of the rest of his life. Sometimes it is all I can do not to be bitter. It can be a genuine battle not to succumb to the somber certainty that life makes absolutely no sense at all, it is all random, and there is no meaning behind any of it.

So I fight the urge to be angry. The fight against anger has gotten somewhat easier as the years have gone by, though the pain of losing him is still as fresh as the day it happened. When he died people, with the very best of intentions, told me that "everything happens for a reason" and my heart would "heal over time." But it cannot fully heal--the scar left behind is deep and jagged and still bleeds. And as for there being a reason for losing him--well, pardon me, but there is no "reason" that could possibly justify the loss of a man such as him. I do wish that my faith was a strong as my husband's, who firmly believes the hand of God guides everything and there is always purpose. And perhaps as years go by I will finally find peace with what happened, but for now there is still a lost little girl inside me who still wants to blame God, rightly or wrongly.

Fortunately for me, these forays into bitterness and anger are few and far between. One of the gifts my father left me was strength. When I feel like I just want to wallow in the unfairness of his death, I am strong enough to (usually) pull myself out of it. I remember what was special about him, and I think about what he would want for me--and my mom, and my sister and brother, and the seven grandchildren he never got to meet, and his many friends. He would want us to live every minute of our day with enthusiasm and good humor, with arms wide open. The last thing he would want is to see me crying over my keyboard.

So this Christmas, like every holiday of the past decade, there is an "empty seat at the table." But thought my dad may not actually be sitting there, what he gave to us--his love, his intelligence, his strength of purpose--and what he wished for us--simply, to live our lives--is there in his place and in our hearts. And because of this, Christmas will be exactly what he would have wanted. A wonderful time with family.

Happy Holidays and love, Kim

Dealing with the "Pit of Soul-Sucking Negativity"

I am closely related to a cynic.

Yep. It is the tag he proudly bestows upon himself, as if being a "cynic" was some sort of badge proclaiming his higher intellectual capabilities. Every aspect of his being is narrowly focused on projecting the image of a jaded, world-weary soul who is alone in his ability to see things for "how they really are."

But sadly, for him and anyone who happens to spend more than a few minutes with him, the only "ability" he has is to see the ugly, negative, and hateful about other people. And he makes his opinions loudly clear--whether he is referring to some public figure, a coworker, a segment of society or, if you're unlucky enough to be in his sites, you. He cannot see the good in anyone or anything because he flatly refuses to believe "good" exists. In his view, people are only out for themselves, and even when someone does something nice--even something as innocuous as smile or offering a glass of ice tea--he or she is doing it for ulterior motives.

He wasn't always this way--and occasionally there are flashes of the man he might have been, had he not so carefully nurtured this studied persona of cynicism. I know he does it to protect himself from rejection, but unfortunately for him, by acting the way he does he is virtually guaranteeing that the rejection he so deeply fears will actually happen. The simple truth is: nobody wants to be around a guy who is the pit of soul-sucking negativity. And as he is rejected, his attitude is reinforced. It's a terrible cycle that can't be stopped but anyone but him.

I know many families have their own version of this person. Dealing with them can be exhausting and downright depressing. With Thanksgiving a mere six days away, and the attendant stress that inevitably accompanies bringing families together, the question becomes: how do I deal with this person? Because let's face it, they won't change. It's up to us, as the sisters, brothers, aunts, parents (name your relation) of this person to figure out a way to put their negativity in perspective, and ensure the day is a pleasant one for everyone. I know, it doesn't seem fair that we should have to accommodate an a-hole, but sometimes, in the interest of peace, we have to be the bigger person.

So here are six tips I've used in the past to deal with Mr. Soul-Sucker that have been reasonably successful:

1.) Don't argue! This one should be obvious, but as much as I've tried to pound this into my own brain when dealing with "the cynic", I've risen to his bait more than once. His eyes positivity light up if he thinks an argument is coming, and because he truly is a highly intelligent man (IQ in the 140s) who reads constantly (thus having tidbits of knowledge I have no way of instantly responding to in the middle of an argument, i.e.: "Chilsholm vs. Georgia, 1793 as applied to overreaching state governments, ala public schools") and likes to override whenever someone else is speaking, he will "win" these arguments, leaving me angry, frustrated, with my mood in tatters.

2.) Smile. Smile, smile, smile, even if it feels like your head is going to crack open from the effort. Even if you feel your insides seething and broiling. By smiling, you accomplish two things: 1.) you show them they are not getting to you (even if they are, do your best to keep that smile on your face) and soon they will move off that topic and 2.) You will soon start to feel better. You will realize the humor of the situation, and you will feel yourself start to relax. I promise this works. An added bonus: you're not playing into their negativity, and thus helping keep positive energy in the room.

3.) Have sympathy. The hell you say! Sympathy for that pompous jerk? As if! But truly, many of these cynical, emotional black-hole types are deeply unhappy people. Imagine what it would be like to wake up every day feeling so angry and frustrated with the world and the people in it? There must be very little these people look forward to. All they have is their negativity. And that's really not very much, when you think about it.

4.) Put them to work. Yup. I've noticed that when I ask my cynic to help out, he grumbles, but he does it fairly willingly. Give him or her a simple but important task like setting up an extra table or bringing in some chairs. It keeps them busy, makes them feel important, and best of all, gets them out of your hair (even if it's just for a little while).

5.) Don't just walk away! I'm sure you've probably heard the exact opposite, and believe me, I've tried it, but all that does is add fuel to the flames, and you end up with either 1.) that person following you into the next room to continue his or her negative ravings or 2.) angering them and thus incurring their wrath at a later time, mostly like at the dinner table just after the blessing is said. Instead, smile politely (smile, smile, smile!), thank them for their input, and excuse yourself with an "reason". As in, "That's very interesting, but little Johnny is giving the cat a bath in the toilet and I really must attend to the situation." You get the idea.

6.) Tell them you love them. Nothing is guaranteed to throw a negative person off-balance quicker than saying you love them. Because deep down, it's what they want--need--to hear. Inside, they are hurt little children who can't believe that anyone could love them. By telling them that you do, you're taking them outside of their own pain and disappointment, even if just for an instant, and giving them a glimmer of warmth. They may not respond--they may even laugh in your face, as has happened to me--but they will hear it. And they will think about it (hopefully in a positive way!).

Of these, the most successful for me thus far seems to be #3--have sympathy. In the big picture, nothing my cynic says will effect the overall outcome of my life (caveat being: unless I let it.) His rants about the government, or the public schools, or the guy who painted his house, or the neighbor down the street, or the drivers on the freeway, or the checker at the grocery store, or the rude teenagers, or the incompetents he works with...ad infinitum...don't change the fact that my life, and my dealings with others is, on the whole pretty positive. Keep this in mind when dealing with your "negative nancy" and you'll find that you can have a smooth, happy, positive holiday no matter what they say or do.

Oh, and a last, unofficial tip: at the end of the night as they're leaving, give them a tight hug, a big sloppy kiss, and tell them how terrific it was to see them. That'll show 'em.

Happy holidays!

Good sites with more tips on dealing with complainers, grousers, whiners, and other soul-suckers in out lives, check out these sites:

Life with Confidence

Self Growth.com

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