I guess it’s not a total stretch because I’ve been living at a summer camp for kids for most of the summer (and it’s not uncommon for kids to feel “left out” at times), but out of the five different people who’ve had this particular issue, only two were kids.

One was my daughter; 7-years-old. There are no kids at camp her age this session, so she’s complaining that EVERYONE is leaving her out, (they’re not) and the other kid who mentioned something was a camp staff member. The other three have been full-fledged adults.

That surprised me.

I honestly didn’t consider you could still feel “left out” of a friendship as an adult. I can’t even remember the last time I felt left out. Wait. Yes, I can. One of our (my huz and I) friends threw a party and we weren’t invited, but all of our other friends in that particular group were. This was before social media madness, so I didn’t even know about the party until after, when one of our other friends asked where the hell we were.

We were somewhere else having a good time, but still. Why weren’t we invited? It was a BIG party and it wasn’t just weird we weren’t invited, it was noticeable.

I called my friend who threw the party and asked her “WTF” because none of it made sense. First, she gave me a weird story, but then she caved and admitted she was mad at me. That didn’t surprise me, I mess up a lot, but I don’t read minds. If you don’t tell me you’re mad, how the hell can I fix it?

Turns out she was mad at something that wasn’t my fault. She had gotten bad info and never checked with me. I yelled at her, and we were fine. But I missed a party—a  GOOD PARTY—and I was sad.

My huz couldn’t understand why I needed clarification in the first place, but I did. I didn’t like that feeling, of being left out. I needed to know what was UP. You can’t tell someone who is feeling left out not to feel that way. You can’t turn that sh*t off. You have to figure out why you’re feeling like that so you can get past it. So, let’s break it down:

1. You woke up to a photo on social media with a bunch of your friends and you weren’t invited. First of all, sucky way to wake up. Next, remember that social media doesn’t usually tell the WHOLE story. Last, remember the story I kicked off with? If they are, indeed, your friends, you shouldn’t have any problem calling one of them to find out what the deal is. (You can’t fix what you don’t know is broken.) If they come clean, you can go from there. If they blow it off, they’re obviously not ready to get real with you, so now you know that about them. You did the right thing by checking, that’s all you can do. Who needs the drama? Not you. You have other friends. #ByeFelicia

2. Maybe you’re not making an effort. Maybe you’re not showing how BADLY you want to be a part of things. How badly do you want it? It could be that you consistently say “No” whenever you are extended an invite, or it could be that, deep down, you don’t want to be a part of it. That’s fine, but you don’t get to be pissed that they now feel the same.

3. Maybe you were overlooked. That happens. I have done that, probably more than I know! There was one time in particular when I overlooked people and it didn’t go well for me. There were kids involved, and there were hurt feelings. It was horrible. There is nothing worse than unintentionally hurting a child’s feelings. If you want to read about how DUMB one person can be, here you go: “Mommy Mistake 2186: The Birthday Party F**K UP” (But you have to finish this post first!)

4. Sometimes it’s not about you. Social Media is social. It’s for anyone to see. Sometimes I act like it’s not. Sometimes I put something on someone’s wall because I want that person to smile. It’s like a little virtual present for that friend. “Why didn’t you put anything on MY wall?” OMG, shoot me. It’s not about you this time. It will probably be about you next time, if you stop your freaking whining!

5. Know your friends. One of the DS+D tribe threw down the term “fewest and truest” on our Facebook page the other day. It’s a brilliant term because those are the ones to concentrate on–your fewest and truest. The other “friends” can’t hurt you because they don’t hold the same meaning in your life. They’re fun and they’re great, and you adore them and they feel the same, but are they one of your fewest and truest? Are THEY the ones to concentrate on?

6. Sometimes it’s financial restraints. Financial restraints are really no one else’s business so it’s hard for some to admit when they can’t swing something. I, personally, don’t give a crap so I’ll cop to financial restraints when I have them (and I always have them). I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being smart about money. I would hate to see money (or lack thereof) getting in the way of hurting someone’s feelings though, so if I know there is someone who might feel slighted, I will let them know that I love them, I just can’t afford to have them. And if they don’t get that, they didn’t know me very well to begin with.

7. Sometimes people are idiots. When my huz turned 40, I threw him a party and left some very special people off the guest list—people we are close with—because I suck. We had only been married a few years and we both brought a lot of previously acquired friends to the table. We also had financial restraints (because most people do). I had to come up with a cut and dry rule of how to keep the guest list to a minimum. As a result, I only invited the people he “brought to the table” because in my mind, I rationalized that it was his party. I didn’t invite any of “my friends,” even though they love him and wanted to be (and should have been) part of the celebration. I will forever regret that.

8. Sometimes people just suck. This is a very simple, yet often overlooked, reason for leaving someone out. If your gut tells you someone sucks, keep moving. They did you a favor, you just can’t see it yet. It will take time but you will end up happier for it.

9. It’s not where you’re supposed to be. This is a hard one to wrap your head around. I was on a girl’s trip years ago and one of my friends had an awful case of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out.) We didn’t call it FOMO then, but that’s what it was. We discussed wanting to be in two places at once and it all made sense, but I told her: “Where you are RIGHT NOW is the place to be. THIS is where it’s happening. Right here, beyotch.” And she knew I was right because we were having fun, we all were— and no matter what she was missing, NO MATTER WHAT, nothing was better than me coming back to the car all excited that I found one of my favorite songs on CD for 1.00! And then I made everyone listen to it. (They weren’t as excited, but I didn’t care. I’ll jam alone.)

10. Figure out your priorities. If feeling left out is more of a FOMO thing, ask yourself what you’re really missing out on? Social Media lends itself to lots of “sharing.” It’s very much a spectator sport. It’s how we keep up with our friends and family, but we don’t need to keep score. If you’re a part of the social media world, you’re going to see all kinds of things—many of which you’re not a part of. There are all kinds of reasons why people do what they do, they range anywhere from being mean to unintentional to clueless. Figure out how much you really care. For me, unless you are in the same room with Eminem, my brother, or a fat ass cake, I’m pretty good with whatever I’m doing. And I hope you feel a little better about everything too.

Thanks for being here! We appreciate the support so much, and if you know of anyone else who might like this, please share. We hope you do!

XO, The DS+D Crew

So I went with her, and came home (ish).

I love the suburb where I grew up, but it’s a “family” suburb and I wasn’t married and I had no kids. Plus, I already lived there for 18 years and I wanted something different. I wanted to be near a downtown area with restaurants, retail stores and fun streets where I could walk my dog, Barney.

Barney and I bounced around metro Detroit for 5 years before finally settling down in a super cute house in The Village of Beverly Hills. According to the United States Census Bureau, the population of Beverly Hills is approximately 10,450. The total area is 4.02 square miles (and of those square miles, .02 is water, the main branch of the Rouge River).

I loved it. Plus, I was close to my friends and just minutes away from retail and restaurants. It was exactly where Barney and I needed to be.

I think I always knew if I ended up in Michigan, I’d end up in Beverly Hills. My dad moved there when I was in high school, after my parents divorced, and I stayed with him quite a bit. It only took me 20 minutes to get to his house, but everything was different. The Village had a totally different feel. Everything was a little slower, a little quieter, and a little more low key—and it was the same when I came back as an adult.

When I got married, my husband and I moved with our two dogs out of “my super cute house” and upgraded to “our house.” But we stayed in Beverly Hills.

At the time, we didn’t have kids and we didn’t have friends living in Beverly, but we didn’t care. We’re not far from anyone we love, and after living at an overnight camp for kids all summer—kids everywhere, all the time— it’s nice to have a little privacy.

The houses in Beverly are old, or new, but all different. The streets are quiet and lined with big trees. The people wave, whether they know you or not, and the police officers are top notch. Whether someone is speeding in the hood or walking around a school yard with a gun, (for real, that happened here) they shut sh*t down FAST. I have been in trouble with the BHPD a few times (not my fault) but they protect, and they serve—and I’m just saying, if they were to come out with a calendar each year, I’d buy it.

My kids, at this time, are well adjusted and happy. I sometimes wonder if they would have the same disposition if we lived somewhere else.

My younger one, she goes to sleep happy and wakes up happy. I want her life. She’s rainbows and unicorns, and even though she has questioned why she’s one of the only Jewish kids at her school, she’s never once complained about it. If we lived somewhere else, would she still be chasing rainbows? Would she still be “JJ,” or would she be JJ, The Jewish Kid?

And my older one, she has made her own name for herself amongst her peers —and she comes to the table with plenty to work with: Jewish, adopted AND Chinese. BOOM. Trifecta, yo. But in our community, she’s not defined by any of those things. They’re just part of who she is.

When my kids started elementary school, at Beverly Elementary, I wanted no part of the parents. I suck THAT much. I thought I had enough friends, and I didn’t feel like meeting anyone new. But of course, I did. I tried to fight it, but I’m drawn to good people— and through my kids, I have met some of the best.

The elementary school years are a rite of passage for both kids and parents. I can’t imagine going through this time alone. Who was I to even think I could? The early years come off all fun and perky, but it’s all pretty intense. I don’t know what the hell is going on half the time. The friends and neighbors I have met in our Village though—they know stuff, and they share. It’s a small community, but one that is built on well-intentioned people and lots of support.

And it’s not just them, it’s the teachers too! Teachers today work harder than ever. I would never want to be a teacher today: Parents emailing all the time with lame excuses about Bruce Springsteen’s concert being the reason for forgotten homework, annoying, repetitive questions sucking up all their teaching time. No thanks.

If I was a teacher today, I’d have an OUT OF OFFICE reply that said “Hi! Sorry I’m not getting back to you EVER because I’m TRYING TO TEACH. And if it’s after hours, you can FOR SURE forget it because I’m getting ready for tomorrow. Hope you get a better teacher next year!”

But the teachers at our school are not like that. They deal. They deal with the kids, the parents, the politics, all of it.

Our goal as parents is to raise our kids into confident, productive adults, but we’re not doing it alone. Community plays a huge part so it’s something to think about when it comes time to choose the “family house.” Just remember, the home isn’t the only place your child is raised, he’s raised by everyone around it as well: Parents, Neighbors, Teachers, Police Officers…And if you end up choosing the Village of Beverly Hills in Michigan—best of luck to your kid, because that’s where we are too!

Thanks for being here!