Michelle Nelson-Schmidt's Blog, page 74

Expect GREATNESS. Then work for even MORE.

I tell children over and over again every week, “You can have the life you want if you are willing to look for it and work HARD for it.”

I can be a hard person to live with. My husband might tell you that. If I’m not in the room. Heh. He has often said to me when I have gone off on yet another rant, “Michelle, you expect WAY too much of people. No one can measure up to what you want. I would never want to work for you.” (And also: HELLO pot! The man is NO slacker.)

He is right and he is wrong. I expect so much of people. I do. I expect the moon from people. But not because I am unrealistic, because I know getting the moon is SO POSSIBLE. So many people vastly underestimate themselves and what they are capable of achieving. So many people come up with an excuse why it won’t work before they even try. How can you know it won’t work if you don’t even try? And then when it doesn’t work, did you try again? And again. And AGAIN? You didn’t really, TRULY think you get to get it right the first time, did you? I come from a family of hard workers. I watched both my parents work very hard, not just for their family, but for themselves. They showed me it is okay to want great things for yourself. But don’t expect any of it to be handed to you.

BUT!!! Want to know the funny thing? When you begin working that hard for yourself? Others WANT to help you. It just happens. Success is contagious. People like to help others succeed. Which is why that first step of just TRYING is so important. And to share the goal you want to attain. People support. They do. (See right there, you came up with something in your head like “Yeah, right Michelle with your rose-colored glasses. Maybe for you they help, but I get NO HELP. None.” didn’t you? That’s an excuse. Stop that.)

I have to give credit to my fourth grader teacher for my high standards. Mrs. Leibowitz. I was always a straight A student. But my first semester in fourth grade I got a B-. B MINUS!!! WHAT??? I had gotten As on tests, I had no idea what happened. I went home and complained to my mother. She just said, “Don’t talk to me, talk to your teacher.” (My mom was not one to fight our battles for us – she wanted us to figure it out ourselves.) I went to school the next day and asked why I got a B- when my tests were so good. She said, “Because I expect more of you.” I was confused. What more could I do? I thought about all the tests, then thought about the projects she always assigned. I had done the bare minimum on those. What was required. I did what she had asked.  I supposed I could do a little better on those. So the next semester I tried harder on the projects she assigned. I got a B. I was FURIOUS. I had worked HARDER. The comment on my report card? “Effort is less than expected.” The third semester I worked even HARDER. I got a B+. I was INFURIATED. Comment on my report card: “Effort is less than expected.” I complained to my mother, “THIS IS NOT FAIR!!!! DO SOMETHING!” She said, “Who told you life was fair? I’d work harder if I were you.” ARGHHHHH!!!! The last semester we had a project to do a diorama of a sample of a society. I chose a Peruvian village. Screw the cardboard shoe box, I was going HUGE! I got a huge square of plywood, about 2 feet by two feet. I glued dirt down all over it (yes, i GLUED dirt) and made an entire village. I made actual thatched grass roofs, I made tiny people and tiny pottery. I had tiny cots, tiny fire pits. I was meticulous. It was good. No, it was AMAZING. I got it to school and set it in front of my teacher and said, “HERE! This is it! It is amazing, you cannot find anything wrong with this, I DARE YOU. I worked so hard on this and it is THE VERY BEST I CAN DO! There is nothing left I could do to make it better!” She quietly said, “This is what I expect of you and what you should always expect of yourself. The very best. Now go have a seat.” She didn’t give me giant accolades or tell the class how awesome my project was as I had hoped and expected. In that one sentence she had, very subtly, taught me that our accomplishments are not about recognition or reward, but about how you feel about it yourself and what you think that is most important.” I got an A that final semester. And a standard for myself (and others) that I don’t ever waiver on.

When I do something, I ask, “Can I do it better? Is that my very BEST?” I hate ‘good enough’. I know, sometimes life requires us to make the call, when to stop when to say, “I know it’s not perfect, but this has to be good enough. I have no more time.” Oh, I hate to leave something when I KNOW I can do it better. But that is life sometimes. But don’t ever let that become your norm, your standard. When you expect excellence, usually? You get it. From others and yourself. When you expect mediocrity? You get it. From others and yourself.

Yesterday I sent out my new guidelines to do a school visit with me to the sales consultants for my publisher. It scared many people off, I think. I told people I was cutting my visits by a day and a half and expecting sales of 1000 items in the week. And I wanted them to see that number and want to double it. Because I set HUGE, GIANT goals. Because even if you don’t get there, damn if you don’t get mighty close trying. And in the process of those huge, giant goals you find out you are capable of so much more than you thought you were.Yes, I am expecting a LOT of my sales force. Only because I believe in them so VERY MUCH. I have no doubt they will rise to the occasion and blow that 1000 items OUT OF THE PARK.

And if you think you have worked hard enough, if you think you are not capable of more? Ask yourself this before calling it a day, “What would Mrs. Liebowitz think?” That’s what I do. And damn if it doesn’t keep you busy. Because, dude, you KNOW there is always another thatched roof you can make.

 

 

2013 is going to be Wonderous

I am not someone that is wishing 2012 goodbye and good riddance. Nope. I am someone that found myself in 2012. I have never been more comfortable in my own skin and more comfortable and happy with who I am and who I get to be in this life. And I don’t think I have said the word grateful or gratitude more in my life. I don’t think that is any mistake. I know that what we put out in the universe comes back to us 100-fold. I have experienced it over and over again. Not just with money, though I do mean that, but especially with compassion and caring and most of all love. The more I give of all these things, the more it comes rushing back to me like a tsunami. It can be overwhelming and I often will get an email or a note or a message that literally makes me stop and weep. I don’t say that to be dramatic, ‘weep’, but it is a word that fits. I was painting this past week and took a break to take out the dogs and checked the email on my phone while I was outside. I got this:

Greetings Michelle,

I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for your book and the stuffed animal that I purchased for my son at the Wade King Elementary PTA book sale in Bellingham, WA.

My son is 12 years old and is nonverbal due to autism and apraxia. He communicates only through adult-led questioning and behavior and has many issues that have become obstacles to learning. Namely, he has a difficult

time with fine motor coordination, he has pica (i.e., the eating of nonfood items), and he tends to mouth items instead of using them for their intended purpose. Because of this, we often have a very difficult time shopping for him at Christmastime; however, he does like to listen to books being read to him and he appreciates stuffed animals.

He was thrilled to receive his Whatif Monster on Christmas and listened in rapt attention as I read him your book. Here is what I wrote in the inner sleeve:

To (Son’s Name),

Merry Christmas! I already know that you can overcome any obstacle. What if you recognized that, too? I love you more than I could possibly show you. No GO AHEAD!… Show me what you can do!

Love, Mom

He has already chewed his Whatif Monster’s arms until they are nearly unrecognizable (a sign of affection). Please accept my sincere gratitude for your wonderful contribution to his literacy development.

Warmly,

(Amazing Mom’s Name)

See? WEEP. Outside in the sun with the dogs, just…weeping. With so much gratitude that THIS gets to be MY life. I am no one special, well not any more special that the rest of us. I am just someone that loves people, adores children in particular, and wants to share what it is that is inside of me with the world. I had the audacity to think that the world would want to share with me. And color me surprised, they did.

And this is what I wish for all of you this 2013. Stop being scared that what you have to offer may not be good enough, or special enough or interesting enough. I promise you, if YOU are passionate about it, excited about it, love it that much? The rest of us WILL want to be a part of it and raise you up and help you get there. That is simply how it all works. Really.

This life is not about having a year with no sorrow, no tragedies, no tears of sadness. It is about having all those ALONG with the joy, the happiness, the laughter and the MAGIC. We simply do not get one without the other. But, when you share your joy and passion and magic with the world? When those inevitable hard times come? And they WILL come, we will hold you up during those times too. We all have each other’s backs. Well, I know I got YOUR back anyway. So go make some magic of your own.

And I literally just got this in an email about 10 minutes ago from a super sweet and amazing lady and I still have goosebumps that someone read it and thought of me.

Catherine of Siena wrote, “If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world on fire.”

And when I read it, every cell in my body, simply said, “Yes.”

Go set the world on fire in 2013, y’all. We’ll all help you do it.

My love to all of you.

A present for you on my 40th

40. When did THAT happen??? The voice in my head is the same once I heard when I was a kid. Perhaps a kid that is a little bit wiser after some bumps and bruises along the way, but a kid nonetheless. I have learned a lot the past 40 years. I was going to write them down, but I have a book deadline to hit. And if I hit it, I will actually be able to rest for a week before a 2013 whirlwind of traveling starts. My life is amazing. I have so much to be thankful for. A beautiful and supportive family, amazing and inspiring friends, a career that I actually imagined in my wildest dreams…and now have. There is not a day that goes by that I am not grateful for every moment of it.

It was not always like this. There were times it was hard to believe I could make it. Times it was hard to have courage. Times it was HARD to have patience as I eeked my way to what I wanted for my life. There was a book that helped me during those hard times. I wanted to share it with you today – because maybe one of you out there needs to hear it too. I hope you love it as much as I do.

I love you guys. So much. Thank you for all your love and support. I feel it. And now? I gotta go paint me some Bob.

Happy Thanksgiving 2012 – Thank YOU

Highlights from Brookwood Elementary

I try to write snippets of things that touched me or made me laugh at school visits so that I don’t forget them on Facebook a lot. I think I am going to begin to make them blog entries here to keep a better record of them. (Ya never know when a book idea could surface, right?) So yesterday had some wonderful moments – I talked to kindergarten through second grade.

And you know it is going to be a GREAT visit when you get a gift in the first 2 minutes:

Kindergarten Boy: “Miss Michelle, you are the BEST author I have EVER met!!”

Me: “Oh, my gosh! Really?!?! That is so sweet! How many have you met?”

Kindergarten Boy: “Just you!”

First Grade Girl that I had to kneel down because she wanted to whisper it to me: “Miss Michelle, thank you for coming and showing your amazing pictures to us. And also, you are so beautiful.”

Me whispering back: “You are so sweet. You know, you are very beautiful, too.”

Her smile could have lit up the room if it was dark.

Kindergarten Boy: “How old are you??”

Me: “39, I’ll be 40 in December.”

The whole room audibly GASPS. And I hear all across the room. “That’s how old MY MOM is!!” This happens almost EVERY visit. For some reason this fact never ceases to blow their minds and it makes me laugh out loud every single time.

And for the SAD but true files:

Second Grade Girl: “Miss Michelle, would you say your stories are examples of personification?”

(Side Note: I am not, nor have ever been, an English major. It is perhaps embarrassing that someone who can now be considered a ‘professional’ writer does not know what terms like personification mean, or even at times, where the comma may or may not go. I admit this sadness. I froze for a moment at her question.)

Me: …….blink…….blink……(In my head, “Oh LORD! In front of the teachers! In front of the LIBRARIAN! They will all know what a complete SHAM I am!!”) “Well, do YOU think I write with personification?”

Second Grade Girl: Well, you have Lucy fly to Rome. Then she rides a motorcycle. That pig can skydive and fly a plane. Yes, yes I think you do.”

Me, HOPING she is right: “Yep! I do use personification in my writing!”…..Finally I look at the teacher willing to reveal my ignorance if I had not already done so, “Who prompted this child!! I have not had more than one cup of coffee yet”

P.S. I asked the librarian later what Personification it. The little girl was right. PHEW.

And finally in a question that touched my heart so deeply and I cannot stop thinking about how beautiful our exchange was:

Kindergarten Boy: “Miss Michelle, I have a question about a Magic Life.”

Me: “Yes?”

Kindergarten Boy: “When the person living a magic life dies, what happens to their magic? Does it go with them? Or does it stay here with us and someone else gets to have their magic?”

Me: “Well, what I think happens, and this is just what Miss Michelle thinks, is that once we have our Magic Life here, we have a responsibility to share it with others. As many as we can, so that really, we are already giving our Magic to others while we are here so that as many people as possible begin to see they can have Magic Lives too. Then when we are not here anymore, our Magic is still here and continues to make more Magic Lives even after we are gone. But, I do think, somehow, we get to take some of it with us too.”

His smile seemed to tell me he liked that answer – I think the whole room did.

Gratitudefullness? Gratefulocity? Maybe they are new words for what I feel after these visits.

More amazing than I ever could have imagined

I am sitting here in my studio on Halloween. It is a gorgeous day. It is also a surreal day. Today some money was deposited into my business account. Quite a large sum. More than I have ever earned all at once (not counting a year’s salary) They are from sales from my books and my Whatif Monster plushie. I can tell by the numbers, the next check will likely be double this one. I saw that…and cried.

And right after that? I got this email:

Hi Michelle,

Just want to thank you for your time and influence with the children at ChIS. My son, Colin could not stop talking about you! Your energy and positive influence radiated through him the day you visited the school. The way he spoke about you I was curious to see if he had spent most of the day listening to you, he said, “No, but I wish I could have”. He was so excited to tell me the story when your mom found out you were an artist. It made me so happy to hear everything he shared with me about your visit. Keep doing what you’re doing, it’s working. You are so blessed.

Sincerely,’

‘Colin’s Mom’

And then? I sobbed.

Let me tell you a tiny bit about my presentation. I tell the children of my struggles to get published, but that is of course, a somewhat abbreviated version of my true struggles. I don’t tell the kids ‘adult problems’ I have had, but I do tell them I have experienced heartbreak and failure and overcame it with hard work and perseverance. That is true.

I don’t tell them about having to pawn every piece of jewelery I owned the day before my son was born because we didn’t have food in the house and my parents were coming and I was mortified to let them know how little we had. I don’t tell them about The food stamps I had to wait on line downtown to get, wanting to cry and feeling so ashamed of myself but knowing I had a responsibility to feed my child more than I needed my pride. I don’t tell them about the time my son had a diaper rash so severe and I could not afford to buy diapers AND the $9 ointment the doctor told me would clear it right up, so I stole it from a grocery store. I hid it in my son’s carrier, under his blanket. Oh, that one hurts my chest just writing it. Oof. I don’t tell them about the clearly, young 20-something bill collector on the phone demanding the money we owed and telling her I didn’t have it. She yelled at me and said how irresponsible I was. I told her I had to buy food and pay (part) of the electric bill to keep the lights on. She said I didn’t deserve to have children if I couldn’t afford them. I don’t tell them about walking to the electric company a mile away to pay a bill with a bad check to get the lights turned back on so the computer would come back on so I could finish the freelance job I had so I could get paid to put money in the bank before the bad check I wrote cleared. Ah, check roulette, good times. No, horrible times. I don’t tell them about having no car when Sophie was born and taking a taxi to the teaching hospital (we had no insurance) where she was born. I begged them to let me pay something, anything for their services, but they said we were so poor we qualified to pay nothing. They would not take a penny from me. I don’t tell them how one of the doctors said outside my hospital door (that is NOT sound proof) that women who didn’t have money needed to learn how to keep their legs together. He then walked in and asked if I wanted to get my tubes tied. I don’t tell them about any of those things. I don’t tell them about getting a job when Sophie was 18 months old and how it broke my heart in two that I could not stay home with her like I had with Noah, but we so very desperately needed the money and I knew I could make what we needed. I don’t tell them about a divorce that took 2 years and was so ugly and awful and gut-wrenching it tore me up from the inside out. And still does.

But I do tell them about how I have never, ever given up HOPE. How even when the times were hardest, I knew I could get through it. I knew my dreams were on the other side of it. I tell them how I have always listened to my heart even when my brain SCREAMED otherwise. I tell them that my life is more amazing than I ever dreamed possible – and even in those dark times? I dreamed BIG.

And I tell them how I believe in THEIR big dreams. Even if they don’t know them yet.

I only ‘thought’ I was supposed to write and illustrate books for children, but once I started doing school visits, I realized my true calling was to to talk to kids when they are young. I am desperate to let them know they can have ANY life they want if they are willing to look for it and work HARD for it. And I believe in them with all of my heart. We are a nation filled with so much opportunity, yet so many do not go after their dreams. I am on a mission to create a world of dream-followers. I know that I don’t get through to every child, but if I get through to even one, like Colin, it is worth every tear and struggle it to took to get here.

And I cannot believe I get paid to do any of this. Grateful is not a big enough word. Another word needs to be invented to express what I am feeling.

Jonathan James and the Whatif Monster App for the iPad is here!!

Okay y’all! This is just the sweetest, coolest, funnest (yes, I am making that a word!) thing EVER!! And if you ever wondered if I talk in capital letters and exclamation points like I write? Um, I TOTALLY DO!!

To download YOUR app, because HELLO, how can you NOT own this cuteness if you have an iPad? I mean, we ALL need a reminder not to let our Whatif Monster get too loud! You want to go to iTunes on your iPad, download the free app called Storytime by Demibooks Inc. and then buy it in Storytime! Easy Peasy!

Thank you so much to Demibooks, Inc. for being so awesome and amazing and adding another layer of love to my book! I just love y’all to death and think you guys rock socks!!

(And don’t mind the Halloween addition of me talking about my haunted hotel room. Ahem. It is NOT haunted. At. ALL. Ahem.)

It’s in the air

I wish I could somehow bottle up what I get to experience during a week of school visits and share it with you. I usually present anywhere from 2-6 times in a day, 5 days in a row. People ask me if I get tired. I never do. Something happens when the kids begin to file in. It happens every single presentation from the first one at 8am to the last one at 3pm. The air begins to fill with an energy from the kids. It is like an electric current is in the air. I pick up on it and somehow absorb it – like I tune in to the kids on their energy level. And they can feel it too. I don’t know how it all works, but it does. I connect with them. They connect with me. It is something else, so hard to put exactly into words. It’s addictive. I love it more than I can truly express.

These kids matter so much to me – and I tell them that. Their hopes, their dreams, each one them, matter to me. And when we are connected in that room all together by that electric current, or energy, or whatever it is for those 45 minutes, they know I mean it when I say I believe in them. This video captures a little bit of the magic we get to experience when we are together.

We lost a good one.

I am a mash up of emotions today. I have swung between wonderful and very exciting emails with my editor to crying at the sudden loss of an old friend. I guess that is life, it doesn’t arrange itself very neatly, does it?

Last night one of my best friends in the world, Andrew, called me to tell me that a mutual friend of ours from about 20 years ago was suddenly killed in a tragic accident. I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach when his words sunk in. I was hearing what he was saying, but it was not computing, not registering. Then, literally, all of a sudden, I felt the air escape me as I realized what he was saying, who was gone from this world. I had not seen Troy in so many years, about 17 or 18. Why was this hitting me so hard? I didn’t sleep last night thinking about him and that he was gone.

We were friends for about 2 years – he worked where I did at a part-time job at Blockbuster – when they had actual stores, not just kiosks. I was in college and this was my college job, I had actually gotten it my senior year of high school and kept it when I was home on college breaks and summers. The memories I have of working there are priceless. That job saved me. I was living in a town I hated in a state I didn’t care for, biding my time until I could get out. And suddenly, there was this job that had these amazing people to work with and I found myself smiling for the first time in months and months. That was where I met Andrew. Then Troy. We literally laughed our way through our shifts, watching movies and perhaps making fun of a customer. Or ten.

After work we went downtown to clubs to dance or back to someone’s apartment to hang out. In the summers it was at Andrew’s apartment because it had a pool – which I find it hard to believe we never got kicked out of. If it was not there, it was at various downtown Dallas clubs where we danced until way too late – not sure if any of us danced very well, but we laughed the whole time. God, we had fun. Troy was always the one who was always smiling, always up to go out, to laugh with us, to pick up the tab far too many times because he loved to be that guy. He loved to be the guy that made sure everyone one was having a good time. He was one of the most generous people I can ever remember knowing – except maybe Andrew.

Andrew and I dated for about 9 months back then and we still always hung out with Troy. The three of us just loved to hang out together. He was there when there was a break-in at Andrew’s apartment and we showed up at 2am on his doorstep. He let us sleep there without hesitation. He was there when I got on stage to (perhaps slightly inebriated) sing Margaritaville to a bar full of people. I am sure I was as awesome as I remember. Troy was there, with Andrew and my older sister, Jen, rooting me on and clapping. He was there at the Halloween party (I think he hosted it actually – I recall he loved Halloween) that Andrew convinced me to go as…well, this is a child-friendly blog, so you will have to message me about that one. I think Troy had the pictures to prove this story, but I never did see them. I also recall both Andrew and Troy trying to embarrass me in many other circumstances, but I am not too easily embarrassed – luckily. We were always having fun, always laughing. Always. There is not one memory I have of Troy where he is not smiling or laughing.

Troy made the world better. He made sure those around him were always happy and smiling and if you weren’t, he did something about it. It is amazing to me that I can have so many wonderful and quite vivid memories of someone that I just was around for 2 years and had not seen for almost 20. I can still hear his voice, quite clearly, in my head. I guess that is the best testament of a life well-lived – to have such an impact on people, even if the time together was brief. Troy’s life was cut way too short, way too early. I can only imagine that if I am feeling the grief I am for this man, there are others reeling from it. For them I am so, so sorry. The loss is great and I promise to never forget him. I love you, Troy, I hope you are at peace.

What has the crazy lady done now??

Are you curious?? Are you excited?? Want to see what’s got my husband shaking his head at me now??