A Crusty Marshmallow

Betty and I share many things--a childhood, for one.  We have almost identical tastes on politics, movies and books.  But she is, by her own admission, one crusty marshmallow, soft on the inside with a tougher exterior than mine.  I wish I'd collected all her savvy one-liners through the years--it would make for a great read! She is hilarious--in a crusty marshmallow sort of way.

We talked a long time this morning.  After reading about my cookie binge, she made fudge.  

We like fudge.  When we were girls, we made it frequently, often while watching a soap opera.  Once, we forgot the steps in the recipe, but we remembered the ingredients. So we put in the butter first, then the sugar (the butter is supposed to go in last) and we wound up with fried chocolate sugar.  We did this at her house, using her mama's cast iron skillet

Betty has less personal freedom than most women of our age.  ("Are we 67 or 68 this year?" I asked her; "Don't you dare add a year!" she replied.)

She has taken on the role of mother to her now-16-year-old granddaughter.  She has been a mom way longer than most of us, and is now busy every day checking homework and taking her daughter to music, drama and dance lessons and performances.   Most of us our age are having lunch with friends, seeing grandchildren occasionally, and proudly showing pictures of the little ones--but then we go home and relax.  For Betty, educated as a teacher and therapist, second-time-around mothering is a full-time job.

This week's project for Betty is mastering a power pose.  Here is what she wrote to me:

"Have you watched the Amy Cuddy Ted talk about power poses?  I'm reading one of the Achor books on happiness and find it interesting how the body and brain work together.  One of the power poses is standing with feet apart and hands on hips.  This is exactly the pose my mother struck when she was angry with me.  It's also the one I assumed with my own kids just before I started wagging my pointer finger at them.  Since I don't enjoy confrontations, it seems to me that might be a way to prepare myself for one.  According to the research, holding the pose for two minutes causes testosterone (power) to rise and cortisol (fight or flight) to lower.  I suppose I'll always find human behavior fascinating."

How's it going? I wondered.

She's decided to link her power posing to teeth brushing--since both take two minutes.  I'm smiling picturing Betty standing in her pose, projecting her power, while brushing her teeth!

"Maybe, since I have to use one hand to brush my teeth, I could do half a pose at the morning brushing and the other half at night."

This could work.  If we all followed her lead, maybe we could charge half-power in the morning, and just when it's about to run out, we could recharge the other half, thus preparing ourselves for confrontations--or half-confrontations at a time!