Generation Y. The Millennials. iGeneration. Echo Boomers.

Most widely believed to be born between 1982 and 1994.

We range from pre-adolescents to almost 30-somethings.

We’ve grown up with multiple ways to connect.  Choose your poison: dial-up telephone, cell phone, chat room, IM, Facebook, YouTube, MySpace or Skype.

We are the kings of multi-tasking.  We sat in our dorm rooms listening to music, texting on our cell phones, talking to our roommate, TV blaring, IM’s binging away on our laptops and multiple tabs open on our browser filled with Facebook, MySpace, eMail and illegal music downloads all while finishing a research paper due the next day.  We truly would have made our parents cringe if they knew that’s how we were spending tens of thousands of dollars “studying” for our courses.

Sorry, Mom.

We are plugged-in to what is going on around the world 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

We’ve been labeled as entitled, tech-savvy, achievement-oriented, team-oriented and starved for attention. 

The Pew Research Center says we are the most ethnically and racially diverse cohort of youth in the nation’s history: 

18.5% are Hispanic; 

14.2% are Black; 

4.3% are Asian; 

3.2% are of mixed race; and 

59.8% are White

We’re a force to be reckoned with in the workplace.  According to Bruce Tulgan, a founder of New Haven, Conn.-based RainmakerThinking, “Unlike the generations that have gone before them, Gen Y has been pampered, nurtured and programmed with a slew of activities since they were toddlers, meaning they are both high-performance and high-maintenance.  They also believe in their own worth.”

So while we’ve been raised to “go forth and prosper” and “make the world a better place just by being in it”, I constantly ask myself these two things:

Where has all the common sense gone and where has the drive to accomplish something on your own gone? 

In my line of work, I come in contact with a large number of people in my generation.  Most of them are in the lower tier of my generation.  I feel as though I am talking to brainless zombies who have never had to lift a finger in their life.  Did these kids get up, get dressed in the clothes mommy laid out for them, eat the breakfast that was made for them, get on the bus after mommy zipped up their jackets, go to school, come home and sit around until told to go to bed?

Examples of the most current indiscretions:

• Three times in the last four months a baby Gen Y has put dish soap into a dish washer.  Suds covering the floor, scraping them up with mops and brooms and mopping them up with buckets and buckets of cold water.  I feel like I’m in an episode of “The Brady Bunch”.

• Moms and dads who call in to find out about volunteer opportunities for their college-age kid.  Seriously?  Is Timmy a mute?  Can he not pick up the phone to find out what he needs to do in order to volunteer at this establishment?

• At least three occasions where dirty dishes have been put away in the cabinets from the dishwasher.  Who can’t spend 15 seconds asking the people in the office, “hey guys, are these clean or dirty”?  Nah, just go ahead and put them all away anyway.  It will help us build our immune systems up for flu season.

• The constant need for an “attaboy” every time a task associated with a job is accomplished.  I didn’t know you were supposed to get constant praise and thanks for doing the job you get paid to do.

• Is customer service a lost art form?  Whatever happened to “the customer is always right” or “I don’t have the answer so let me take your name and number and get back to you”?  Nope, just tell them you don’t know what they’re talking about and hang up on them.  Awesome job.  Attaboy.

Maybe I’m getting old.  Maybe this Millennial is getting too close to 30-something and I need to take a chill pill.  I just wish that I could slap one of these young Gen Y’s and say, “wake up! Mommy’s not here to wipe the corners of your mouth or call the school to let them know you’re not going to make it today”.

Have a backbone.  Take some responsibility for your mistakes.  Be accountable.  Be proud of what you stand for in life.  The easy road is a few miles back.  It’s time to saddle up and take the high road and make a life for yourself. 

Crabby patty out.

Jim

I find questions about Ryan’s dad popping up in my head more and more these days.

I look at Ryan and wonder how many traits and mannerisms he has that mimic his father’s.

I know very little about Jim, but yet my heart fills with warmth when I hear stories from Ryan’s childhood and how Jim treated his children’s differences as if he had been their father all of his life.

I can still see the love for him in the eyes of his widow, daughter and son.  A pain and longing to be with him is something that never subsides; a heartbreak I hope I do not have to experience for years and years.

Being with his brothers when we visit Kentucky gives me a sense of just how big of a lynch pin has was to the family.  He was the oldest of six children; five boys and one girl. 

He loved fishing.  Actually, love is a drastic understatement.  Ryan brought home Jim’s tackle box soon after we moved in together in 2008.  When I think of a tackle box the first thing that comes to mind is a simple, two-tiered box.  I was honestly speechless when I saw this monstrosity.  Jim’s tackle box was the size of a large suitcase that you would use when going away for half a months time.  This “tackle box” was easily 12 tiers, filled to the brim with every bobber, lure, barb and hook you could imagine.  I never knew tackle boxes came that large.

Jim occasionally spent his time smoking, drinking and playing cards.  Jim was a true Kentucky boy through and through.

He enjoyed doing a lot of things in his life, but the one thing in his life that he valued the most was his wife, son and daughter.  Hearing his widow talk about their first dates, their first kiss and the many, um, scenarios they found themselves in after they were married always makes me laugh . . . and blush at times.  They had a true passion for one another.

His daughter, Cara, talks about him more than Ryan does.  When she tells stories from her childhood about Jim, the Kentucky drawl and chin-jut always comes out in her.  Mannerisms that I look forward to every time I know a story about Jim is about to be told.

From what I can tell, Cara carries more of her father in her while Ryan mimics Marsha a bit more.  The story I remember the most is the one where Cara and Ryan were headed out on an errand with Jim in his truck.  Jim at the wheel, Cara in the middle and Ryan in the passenger seat.  Cara was a bit of a tomboy as a child and Ryan was, and still is to this very day, a bit on the “polished” side.  Cara sat next to her dad with hair mussed up, smooshed under a backwards baseball hat in shorts and a t-shirt.  Ryan sat up perfectly straight, ever hair in its place and clothes lying exactly where they should be.  I’ve only really known the Collins kids for five years, but this paints the perfect picture for me as an insight into their childhood.

Since I was old enough to think about being married, I always wanted a mother-in-law I could relate to and have a close relationship with after I was married.  Watching “Everybody Loves Raymond” will make any future daughter-in-law hope for the best with regard to a future mother-in-law.  There is no doubt that I got an amazing mother-in-law in Marsha. 

However, I never realized how different it would be to not know the father of your husband.  I often wonder what kind of relationship Jim and I would have.  From what I have gathered from conversations, I have a feeling that a combination of Cara and Ryan’s personalities make up a pretty good mixture of  Jim.  Friendly to every Tom, Dick and Harry, jovial and always greets you with a smile even if you’ve only left the room for a minute to grab a drink from the kitchen.   I’m positive Jim and I would have gotten along famously.    

I wouldn’t trade my new family for all of the money and treasures in the world.  I know they are there for me no matter what scenario comes along.  I know that they value Ryan and I’s marriage and relationship.  I truly love the family that I married into. I hope and pray that Jim knows he’s missed every day by the ones who loved him, and the one who never got to meet him.  Thanks for giving part of yourself to your children, Jim.  I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for Ryan and Cara.  You can truly be proud.

Well, I took a bit of a hiatus, but I’m back and ready to take life-blogging up again. I promise to try and be a bit more interesting this go-round.

What’s happened in the last eight months? Oh let’s see, let’s see.

Oh! That’s right. I got married!

I married the love of my life and my best friend. I had my absolute dream wedding. I woke up to pouring rain at 6:30 that morning with a countdown to 4:00 p.m. and an outdoor wedding. The day was long, but worth every millisecond. Hair and makeup were done, pictures, pictures and a few more pictures were taken throughout the day. Drinks with my best friends, mom and sister happened throughout the day in between pictures, eating and staying away from windows so I didn’t see the groom and the groom didn’t see me. 4:00 p.m. rolled around, the sky cleared, the humidity came back and my beautiful wedding took place during a breezy 95 degree June day. Ideal and picture perfect. Unless you ask the guests who had soaked through their dresses and suits by the time the “I dos” were said.

                               


I’m still on the hunt for a new job. Those opportunities are just piling up in front of me. Which one to pick? The one I’m far too overqualified for that would make my resume look ridiculous, or the one that I don’t even have enough experience to even put me on the company’s radar. The possibilities are endless. Or not. They don’t call it a job hunt for nothing I suppose. I hope to be onward and upward soon.

There’s really nothing else to report, sadly. Married life is amazing. I love my husband more and more everyday. That’s a cliché, I know. Has our life changed since marriage? Nope. Not at all. If you live together before you’re married for a significant amount of time, you’re basically married. Now we just have the paper that makes us legit and the same last name. (And yes, I do love having a different last name and being referred to as someone’s wife) I went to the doctor a few weeks ago and instead of the normal “Kinsey” she called me “Mrs. Collins”. My heart skipped a beat.

Yeah, I’m that girl. And I’m ok with that.

Until next time.  Mrs. Collins out

                               

Welcome back.
We've missed you.

To: Gertrude

From: Meruge :o)

Best. Parents. Ever.

I just had to post this:

It's "the freak" big dog style :o)

"I'm a rumor weed
Ooh, ooh, ooh!"

Weird.

I'm going to ask Ryan to grow a mustache like this.

I'm such a slacker.

My apologies for the lack of updates.

What's going on in my life:

trying to narrow down the ginormous wedding guest list

weekend side job - come visit me please!

still madly in love with Ryan James

wedding dress has been acquired

workout, workout, workout - "Variety is the spice of fitness."

Let's Go Horse!

God is great &

life is all around fabulous & wonderful