November 25, 2009
I write this blog during my lunch break, while eating a microwave dinner of roasted turkey and mashed potatoes. I applaud
my efforts at making a healthier choice for lunch, but feel kind of stupid for picking this particular option the day before
Thanksgiving (i.e. the day before I gorge on turkey and mashed potatoes.) This meal preview just makes me more excited for
tomorrow and not because of the feasting. My twin brother and his family are joining us for the holiday this year and
I can't wait to see everyone.
12:29 pm cst
My twin lives in Wyoming, and given a good weather day (which thankfully we have),
the trip takes almost 8 hours to drive. Nonetheless, we get to see each other about once a year during the summer, with an occasional
winter visit. Post college, we have seen each other maybe two or three times for holidays, and only twice on our shared birthday
in January. For many families living states away from each other, we are probably lucky to see each other annually. However,
coming from the same womb and sharing most waking moments for the first 18 years of life (and then almost daily through college),
separation from Tim hasn't always been easy.
Someone asked me in high school what it was like to be a twin, to
which I replied, "What's it like to be a single?" I didn't know any difference at the time, but looking back
now after years of separation, I can share more specifics. For instance, I had to reteach myself some language aspects: as
a kid, I referred to myself in plural form. Even today, if I recall a childhood memory, I slip into using "we" or
"us" even if speaking only of myself.
Another trait I believe I can associate to being a twin is trying
to connect with others at an intuitive level. (This can create unfair expectations and assumptions with my husband, for
sure!) Whether picking on our older sister, playing at recess, washing the family car, participating in games or sports, Tim
and I would fall into our routine, easily predicting the other's next move without having to communicate verbally. Maybe it
was a "twin thing," but I think being close with another person in the manner we were just created a bond different
from any other I have had or will have.
So to sum up, I'm thankful for a wonderful childhood, thankful for
getting to spend time with family, and thankful to get to share both old and new memories with the next generation this
November 24, 2009
Is my "fence" white picket or barbed wire?
11:13 pm cst
During a collegiate group's interview process, I was asked "If you wrote an autobiography, what would be its title
and why?" For almost 2 decades, I have chewed on that question, and would undoubtedly now answer "My View From the
Fence." (Thus, the title of my blog: Tammy's View.) I'm fascinated by how convicted some people are with their opinions,
but I've struggled often making up my own mind. It's not that I'm necessarily wishy-washy; I just happen to be able to understand,
empathize or agree with the other opposing viewpoint more often than not.
I used to see my "fence-sitting"
trait as weak and undesirable. In fact, while serving as the collegiate newspaper editor, I was often criticized for not taking
a stronger stance in my editorials. Now that I'm older (ahem, more experienced) I continue to be amazed at how the more vocal
someone is, the more they can influence or redirect a group of people. Furthermore, why does having an opinion, especially
when shared with others in a loud, assertive or obnoxious manner, equate intelligence, confidence or leadership?
Anyone reading Facebook comments will see a slug of political opinions, with both sides stating they know best. In business,
I've found that often the more opinionated person is the one unwilling to compromise, listen or be open to new ideas, as if
there is no room for growth.
There is an old saying "all is fair in love and war." Is
it possible these are the only two areas where a strong opinion serves best?
November 23, 2009
Giving thanks not always easy
10:31 pm cst
The dreary day reflected my mood as my husband shared that his car had to be towed to the garage. This was the second car
towing in a week's time for the Wellbrock household. Gerard and I tried to joke about how Christmas came early for us, but
neither one of us felt too jolly by the thought of finding a new fuel pump or ignition switch wrapped up under our tree.
Even though we dropped a chunk of change at our mechanics (Merry Christmas to them!), we both recognized our "silver
linings:" how fortunate we were that neither of us was left stranded by our mechanical failures, or hurt due to an accident.
We realized we got it all wrong - Christmas didn't come early, Thanksgiving did. We are thankful for the means
to have and fix our vehicles; thankful for our continued safety and luck; and thankful for good mechanics!