A Good Joe

On appreciating quiet

2012-01-18T21:33:00.000-05:00

Are you an introvert or extrovert?.Author Susan Cain explores how introverts can be powerful in a world where being an extrovert is highly valued. Join From Left to Write on January 19 as we discuss Quiet: The Power of Introverts by Susan Cain. We'll also be chatting live with Susan Cain at 9PM Eastern on January 26. As a member of From Left to Write, I received a copy of the book. All opinions are my own.

I'm guilty.

There, I said it.

I'm guilty....guilty, I tell you.

My crime? Wanting my child, no, expecting my child to be something different than he is. As if there's something wrong with him, or lacking in him. When he is just exactly as God intended him to be, without me and my neuroses laid upon his scrawny, preteen shoulders.

You see, my son is an introvert. And I...I am not. Oh, I enjoy quiet time now and then, and I happily kiss my children goodbye as I drop them off at the door of the school, looking forward to the temporary peace that reigns in my kid-free house for a few hours each day. I get weary of the constant chatter and TV noise and music noise and video game noise that invades my house during the hours that Moe, Larry and Curly are at home and awake. Oh yes, I enjoy time to have a cup of coffee with a book or checking up on my Facebook friends for a while. But not for very long. I get a little antsy and I feel like picking up the phone and calling someone, or asking a friend to lunch or maybe just going to the grocery for a little friendly checkout-line-chitchat. Too much quiet bothers me. Full disclosure: I am an ambivert, comfortable in both realms, but not comfortable enough to really stick with one or the other. I'm a perennial fence-sitter in so many aspects of my life, but that's another post for another day.

Reading Susan Cain's Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking, has given me a whole new view on the introvert/extrovert question. I haven't worked full time outside the home in nearly twelve years, and when I did work full time, my office was the cargo compartment of a C-141 cargo jet, flying for the Air Force. So I don't have much of a frame of reference for much of the office statistics, such as how private or at least semi-private offices or cubicles vice an open floor plan affect productivity or how meetings are creativity-killers, and multi-tasking is really just a myth. (As a busy mom, I wonder about that, but who am I to question solid research?)

But for me, the real gems in Cain's book were about people who contributed a great deal to life as we know it, with all the creature comforts and technological gee-whiz fun toys, and they didn't seek the spotlight. They were introverts. They wanted, they needed to be left alone, in order to really get inside their own heads and pull all that magic out. Everyone knows about Apple products and the legendary Steve Jobs, may his soul rest in peace. But not everyone knows about the other genius, the other Steve, behind my super-cool iPhone. Steve Wozniak, Introvert. He wasn't good at, nor did he want to, jump up and down and attract a lot of attention to himself. He didn't need to be the public face of Apple. He just wanted to build computers. And boy, did he ever build computers. Given his tremendous success, he has learned to deal with the spotlight from time to time. But he doesn't seek it out.

Why and how do these quiet, unassuming people get all this wonderful and creative innovation and all these way-cool ideas, when they're not all that good at selling it? Why is it better to work alone when the light bulb moment strikes? Why doesn't brainstorming work? Why do we seem to be more attracted to qualities like magnetism, charisma, forcefulness and energy, while allowing qualities like duty, honor, manners, integrity, and hard work take a back seat? The latter group are all things that a person can work to improve, but the former group...well, you either got it or you don't.

The world loves an extrovert. And the world loves someone who will toot their own horn confidently, and sell themselves boldly. We live in a time where people are famous for nothing more than, well, being famous. These people simply assume that the rest of the world is interested in them and what they're doing, where they're going, and whose clothes they're wearing. And to a significant degree, they're right. These celebrities make more for showing up once at a nightclub than I'll make in the next two years. How do they do that?!

It's all in the book. There is a lot of science and statistics, but Cain writes it all down in a way that makes it easy to follow.

But really, how does this relate to my crime and my guilt? Well, my son is an introvert. He's a bright, capable, intelligent kid. His imagination and the world he inhabits inside his head are nothing short of amazing. And yet, I fail on a regular basis to appreciate the wonder that is my introverted boy. I'm such a social creature that I don't truly understand his need to be alone, his preference to work alone, his lack of concern for the small number of phone calls and invitations he receives. It's not that he doesn't have friends; he does. He does get invitations and when he shows up at a party or a basketball game, he's greeted by several friends high-fiving him or giving him a noogie (this is apparently how preteen boys show affection and happiness).

He's totally okay with being, playing, thinking alone. On his own. No one else. But I have to admit, I sometimes wonder....do the other kids really like him? Why do they so rarely call to ask him to come over, or to shoot some hoops, or to sleep over on Saturday nights? Why does he always seem to be alone? Is something wrong with him? More full disclosure: we live in smalltown USA and attend a small Catholic school where everyone knows everyone else and it's not as if he's swallowed up in a huge school and doesn't really get to know anyone. He's been in the same class with the same kids for the last seven years. And I know that the other kids love him. But still, I worry. I worry that he's going to get left out and left behind.

I don't understand his imaginary world. I often have to remind him that I don't understand the language he has just now made up, and I'm going to need him to just use English, please. Sometimes I have to remind him to rejoin the here and now. He always does, but he's sometimes pretty darn reluctant. And I worry.

I've had people...coaches, instructors, activity leaders, other parents...insinuate (or sometimes outright say) that with his temperament and his inclination to be perfectly happy on his own, that he's going to get left out and left behind. And I worry. In the words of one of these esteemed individuals (a 100% complete and total extrovert, maybe not capable of being alone for 10 minutes), if he didn't learn to be more outgoing and change facets of his personality, he was "going to be totally screwed in this life." Imagine how well I took that comment.

But Susan Cain begs to differ. And through her book and her research, she gives me reason to beg to differ. She has given me a reason and a way to view my son differently, and new ways for me to interact with him so that he feels loved and safe, no matter how social he may or may not be. I don't understand him. That's a terrible feeling, to not really get your kid. To sometimes wish he could be a little more this or a little more that. To fail to appreciate the beauty and the wonder, the gift from God, that is right in front of me on a daily basis.

But after reading Quiet, I'm beginning to get it. And I'm beginning to get him.

Losing, and then finding, yourself

2011-10-26T18:27:00.000-04:00

**In Lost Edens, author Jamie Patterson struggles to save her marriage which may or may not be already over. Keeping her attempts a secret from her family, she attempts to mold herself into the wife her husband wants her to be. As a member of From Left to Write book club, I received a copy of this book for review. You can read other members posts inspired by Lost Edens by Jamie Patterson on book club day, October 27 at From Left to Write. This post is inspired by the book.**

I struggle for words when I think about this book. That's a little unusual for me, to struggle for words, but I read this book nearly in one sitting and when asked what I thought of it, I came up nearly empty of words. Not because I didn't like it, or it was a boring story, badly told; far from it. I found it riveting; real and raw and emotional. I felt as though I were living the experience with Jamie, and I was spent by the last page. It's not a real happy, feel-good story but it is, in many ways, hopeful.

Most of us have been through a terrible break-up, whether it was getting your heart well and truly broken by your first love, or a mid-30's divorce that left you shattered and alone with young children. I remember when my first love, my high school boyfriend (I'll just call him T) broke up with me. I sobbed and cried and begged him not to leave me; I promised I'd be anything he wanted me to be, if he would just not leave me. My baby heart was broken; I was 17 and I believed with all my heart that he was The One. He had even given me a tiny diamond chip that I wore proudly; it may as well have been a flawless, colorless 5-carat ice cube for all the weight it carried for me. By the time I graduated from high school, the shine was off the diamond, literally and figuratively. It was never going to last; we were children and we had no idea what we were talking about as we pledged to love each other forever and ever. We broke up on senior prom night and although we got back together and tried to make it last, we were never the same and no matter how I tried, I could never change myself enough to be the girl he wanted to be with.

Now, over twenty years later, I am glad that, as painful as it was and as much as I didn't think I could live one.more.day without him, T set me free. He's gone on with his life and I've gone on with mine. My life is a pretty good place to be these days and I'd never have grown up to be who I am today, with my experiences and my perspectives, with all the good and the bad that entails.

The next Serious Relationship I had, with R, also ended with me sobbing and crying and swearing to be whoever he wanted me to be, if he would just please not leave me. He did, in fact, leave and again, I'm grateful. Although at the time, I thought I might die from heartbreak.

I'm beginning to see a pattern here.

The thing that T and R knew, that I didn't, was that you can't change who you are, to please someone else. Not even if you really, really, really want the relationship to work. When you dance to someone else's tune, you are always just a little bit out of step. You are always looking to them to see what your next move is, to see how you're going to feel about everything, from the day's headlines to how much cream and sugar you take in your coffee. Little by little, you get swallowed up by the person you're trying to please. You look to them to see if those pants really do make you look fat, if you're cheering a little too loudly for your favorite team (wait, is that your favorite team? you can't remember), or if it's ok for you to go ahead and have that second slice of pizza or glass of wine. What they want becomes what you want, and your desires and needs merge with theirs until you almost can't see yourself as separate from them. Your thoughts, and by extension you, cease to matter, even to yourself.

And in the end, by compromising so much of yourself and what you want, you disappear. One of the most poignant moments in this book, to me, was pretty early on, when Jamie was at Target buying a new set of sheets. She really wanted the pink ones but she knew he wouldn't like them and would rather have another color. She tried to take a stand, even to herself, and get what she really wanted. But even as she bought her new pink sheets, she knew she couldn't do it; she knew she'd be bringing them back the next day to exchange them for sheets that would make him happy. Even in something so simple as a set of sheets, Jamie allowed her desire to fix her troubled marriage to trump everything that might have been important to her, everything that made her who she was.

T didn't necessarily want me to change for him; he told me so, and so did R. They both said essentially the same thing: you can't change for me. You wouldn't be you anymore. During each of those break-ups, I wanted so badly for them to love the me that I was, and I didn't know that trying to make myself into someone that they could love would have negated me. It wasn't T or R telling me I wasn't good enough as I was; I was saying that to myself.

Losing yourself is far harder than losing someone else. If you don't know who you are, if you have lost yourself, how do you know where to start? How do you go about figuring out who you might be, what you might want? If you're not good enough for yourself, how can you be enough for someone else? Finding out the answers to those questions is a tough thing. But after you have allowed someone (and yourself!) to beat you down to where you don't recognize the girl in the mirror, the you that you will find at the end of the questions is pretty awesome. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently.

Politics and sex

2011-09-26T23:57:00.003-04:00

**As a member of From Left to Write book club, I received a complimentary copy of Cleopatra, by Stacy Schiff for review. This post was inspired by reading the book, and you can check out other club members' posts by going to www.fromlefttowrite.com starting on 27 September.**

I recently graduated from college with my bachelors' degree in history. It was a big deal for me, a long awaited dream and a goal that I had put off.

I mention this only because it seems to me that, with said degree, I should have some knowledge of, well, history. I read this book, Cleopatra by Pulitzer Prize winner Stacy Schiff(who is totally my new hero! Author, scholar, historian, yo!) and I learned so much! I learned a lot, and I also disabused myself of some of notions previously held.

Obviously, as a history major, and a historian, I'm fascinated by history. I also love politics, and nothing pumps my blood pressure like an election season, preferably with big issues at stake. And really, when isn't there a big issue at stake? But every election season, I lament the ever-increasing hostility and lack of manners and decency. I wish that we could back to the days when politics was a little more civil and polite. Heh. And when, pray tell, would those days have been? Loosely defined, I think of politics as the relationship between the government and the governed. The bosses and the workers. The leaders and the people. The business of making a nation function.

That's what I mean. You'd think I would know that politics has always been a blood sport, quite often literally, and maybe never more so than in Cleopatra's time. In the early chapters of Cleopatra, Schiff outlines Cleopatra's "ungainly shrub" of a family tree and her early years when she was groomed and trained to lead. She was schooled vigorously in philosophy and language and the art of public speaking and it seems her father had high aspirations for her. She married one of her brothers; a common practice of the time, hence the "ungainly shrub" of a family tree. They were expected to rule Egypt as king and queen and yet they were mercilessly plotting against one another, even to the death.

The thing I find kind of funny, not so much in the ha-ha way, but in the ironic way, is that a woman who was successful in politics in the years before Christ (B.C.) is, to this day, regarded as a wanton seductress, and cunning manipulator. Julius Caesar, with whom Cleopatra crafted an alliance, was regarded as a successful military strategist. Credit is given to his intellect and his leadership, while Cleopatra, who was not necessarily regarded as all that attractive in her time, has emerged from history as a breathtaking beauty who was capable of rendering men senseless with her come-hither smile and a bat of those kohl-rimmed eyes. She doesn't get credit for being smart and well-trained; she gets credit for being beautiful. But love her or hate her, she was on a pretty equal footing with the men of her time and outfoxed many of them, including her brother and husband Ptolemy who was trying so hard to kill her! When he discovered she had tricked him right under his nose, he literally burst into tears and threw a tantrum, so furious was he. Who says she's just a pretty face?

Fast forward about two thousand years...love them or hate them, there are some pretty powerful women in American politics these days. Hillary Clinton, Michele Bachmann, Sarah Palin. Their education and expertise, although it is hotly debated by many, was enough for the people that elected them. They didn't come to be governors or Senators or Secretary of State on their looks alone, and yet that is exactly how they seem to be judged first and foremost. Eventually the conversation will turn to intelligence (or perceived lack thereof), training, experience, education, political savvy. But a lot of weight is given to looks, when the same isn't true of their male counterparts. Unless you count the snarky jokes about John Edwards' $400 haircuts, but that's another post for another day....

Cliches become cliches for a reason, and this whole line of thought brings an oldie but a goodie to mind: the more things change, the more they stay the same. No, a woman doesn't have to be beautiful to be successful, but it helps. Hillary's presidential campaign was history making, groundbreaking, and yet what got so much press was her wardrobe. Sarah Palin's clothing budget was the stuff of political legend. And just yesterday, I read a snark opinion piece complaining about how much Michele Bachmann must spend on her manicures.

I stand in awe of powerful women, who didn't follow the rules and didn't behave, no matter what they might have looked like. You know, well-behaved women don't make history.

On forgiveness and second chances

2011-09-23T15:57:00.000-04:00

** Deborah Reed's debut novel Carry Yourself Back to Me follows heartbroken singer-songwriter Annie Walsh as she digs into the past to exonerate her brother from murder. As a member of From Left to Write book club, I received a copy of this book for review. You can read other members posts inspired by Carry Yourself Back to Me on book club day, September 22 at From Left to Write.**

I really enjoyed reading this book. I really enjoyed it. This is a debut novel and I really like the author's writing style. I have a bad habit of picking apart the author's writing style when I read, as opposed to just allowing the story to carry me along, but I suppose that's an occupational hazard. Sometimes I just can't keep reading, if the style distracts me too much, but I found Reed's style compelling and a little mysterious. Maybe suspenseful is a better word...at the end of each chapter, she threw in a little twist that made me stay up too late to find out what happened, saying to myself, "Just till I see what what she does now, then I'll put it down."

This book got me thinking, as good books are supposed to do, and it got me thinking about second chances. Seems to me that just about every character in this book, major and minor, got a second chance. Bad guys got a chance to be good guys, broken hearts got a chance to heal and love again, and dreams that seemed crushed had a chance to breathe again.

Forgiveness and second chances are not the same thing, but it sure is hard to give someone a second chance when you're not willing to forgive. Then again, if you forgive, that doesn't always mean you're willing to give a second chance.

I have been blessed throughout my life, with many, many second chances. I find it kind of funny and ironic that friends from my wild and mis-spent youth would not recognize the small-town, church-going, stay-home wife and mom I have become, while friends that I have now would not recognize the somewhat wild-child, party-girl, dancing-on-the-edge-of-legal rebel kid that I used to be. I had something a little bit removed from the childhood my own little people are enjoying. They have both parents still living, still married to one another, in a nice comfortable house with dinner on the table (oh alright, sometimes it gets delivered in a box from the pizza guy, but whatever!) every night, good friends at a great school, all the books and Legos and video games any three kids could want, and very few worries. I used to feel sorry for myself for the raw deal I thought life had given me, but I've come to see my rough beginnings as a blessing.

I got a second chance.

I was at a crossroads as a young teen, poised on the brink of that time in life when bad decisions really can follow you for a lifetime instead of being mostly temporary and erasable. And then what I thought was the worst possible thing happened: I was uprooted from one home to another. I thought it was the end of the world, and that my life was over. In reality, it was just beginning. Had I stayed in the other place, I was all but certain to head down a path that was littered with bad decisions and unpleasant consequences. That is not to say I never made a bad choice again, or that I didn't live with any unpleasant consequences; to the contrary, I did just that. But my new environment afforded me opportunities that the old one had not and much better guidance along the rocky path to adulthood that kept me from completely careening out of control and over the edge. I found my way. Not perfectly, not without mistakes and regrets and tears, but I found my way.

My father was alternately emotionally abusive, or completely absent. He was a guy who always seemed to have circumstances stacked against him, he had a lot of bad things happen to him, and he got bitter about it. He and I didn't see eye to eye on many things, and we hurt each other. A lot. Ultimately we spent a lot of years estranged and not speaking. Until he got really sick.

I gave a second chance.

A lot of water passed under the bridge that last week he spent in hospice and I learned that forgiveness isn't something you give to the other person, it's a gift you give to yourself. Putting down that baggage is blessed relief. You're the only one that carries it; it's only a burden for you, not the other person. It's easier to move forward when your load is that much lighter.

Second chances are a gift. A beautiful gift to be treasured and not squandered.

In Carry Yourself Back to Me, Annie extended forgiveness and received second chances. It was only after setting down her angry baggage and forgiving those who had hurt her, that her hands were open and able to receive the second chances.

Have you ever been given a second chance? Were you able to receive it?

Gettin' it done

2011-07-21T18:59:00.001-04:00

My summer reading, that is.

Which is at least part of the reason this poor blog sits unwritten-in, lonely and neglected these days.

But I have been on a major reading tear over the last several weeks, staying up waaay too late and losing sleep to see how things end. I must confess that much of my reading is pure escapism, not really edifying or educational in any way, although some of the books have made me really think about different things. I finished Love, Greg and Lauren, and jumped into The Passion of Mary Margaret, which is a really good story that didn't go at all as I expected it to. It's the story of a religious sister who knows from a very early age what she wants to do with her life and sets out to do just that, only to find that Jesus has other plans for her. He literally sits down in her kitchen and tells her so. I thought all the way through that book, how great would that be, to have Jesus sit down at my table for a cup of coffee and say, "Good morning sweet pea. Here's what I have planned for you." I'd always know for sure what God intends for me, what His plans are for my day, my week, my life. I wouldn't spend time needlessly worrying about if I'm doing what God wants, or if I've convinced myself that what I want is what God wants, by the sheer force of my desire. In any case, it was a good book that I enjoyed reading, and there were some real surprises that I didn't see coming. I don't like to give away spoilers so I won't tell you what the surprises are, but suffice it to say that it wasn't plodding or predictable.

From there I jumped into Unbroken, for my book club, and I'm SO bummed out I had to miss the meeting where we discussed it. What a phenomenal story, and written so beautifully. It's the story of Louie Zamperini, written by Laura Hillenbrand. He was a troublemaker kid in Torrance, CA, in the 1930's, who fell in love with running and was training in hopes of running in the 1940 Olympics, and when they were canceled because of World War II, he went into the Army instead and became a bombardier on B-24s. He and his crew crashed one day and he, along with two other crewmembers survived the crash and drifted at sea. After an astounding 47 days drifting in a liferaft, with very little food or water, and nearly constantly hounded by hungry sharks, he and his pilot were rescued and ultimately taken prisoner by the Japanese. He endured nothing less than hell on earth and eventually made it back home to tell his story. He is still traveling today, speaking at churches and community centers. Hillenbrand is a fantastic writer; I felt like I knew him personally and there were several points in the book that were suspenseful enough to make me stay up reading into the wee hours just to know what happened. This was one of those books that really affected me. I'm a military person and a history nerd, but that's only part of it. Amazing story, amazing man, amazing book. Read it.

I also motored through Then Came You, Jennifer Weiner's new one. A story of three women who don't know each other, have very little in common, and yet their lives are permanently intertwined. I love Jennifer Weiner's books and this one was no exception. Her style is just so comfortable...easy to read, snarky and funny and clever, but also heartbreakingly real and vulnerable.

I found Emily Giffin this summer too...I'm usually late to the party, and it's not as if she is new to the world of books. I just hadn't read her before, and she is similar to Jennifer Weiner in that her books would be considered 'chick lit' but they're not fluffy. My husband would never read her books, but they're about far more than who's having an affair with whom, or rich trophy wives and their shoe collections. I've read Heart of the Matter (which I finished at 2:30 am the morning after I bought it....HAD to know where it was going) which addresses infidelity in a very thoughtful and thought-provoking way, and Love the One You're With, which is about a question most of us have asked ourselves at some point, if we're really honest with ourselves. It's about "the one who got away"....what if you got a chance to make that choice again? It's romance, yes, but much more at the same time.

I have started and set aside The Hunger Games a couple of times and I'm not sure why. I did it this week, in fact. I am reading Working It Out right now, by Abby Rike. If you're not a Biggest Loser fan, you probably don't know who Abby Rike is, but she was a contestant a couple of seasons ago. She had by far the saddest story of anyone there, at least to my mind. She lost her husband, her 5 1/2 year old daughter and her two week old son all at the same time, in a horrific car crash, and it just devastated her. As a mom, I can't even fathom what that would be like. She insulated herself with food and the weight gain that came with it, and ultimately became a contestant on The Biggest Loser. Her story is inspirational and the love story of her marriage is bittersweet.

Next up is Angry Housewives Eating Bonbons, for my book club. I've read it before and was the one who suggested it, but I am looking forward to reading it again. It's the story of housewives who live on the same block and become friends, bonding over books and weathering life's storms together. It's the story of the strength of friendships and how, sometimes, a girl just needs her girlfriends, even more than the other important people in her life. Good stuff.

I hope that I can find time to do all the reading I still want to do! I've read a lot in spite of lots of summertime running around, but there are still so many books, so little time. I hope that you're able to make a dent in your summer reading, and while you're at it, leave me some suggestions from your list!

Summer reading--what's on your list?

2011-06-12T09:45:00.000-04:00

I have grand plans to get a LOT of reading done this summer. In between basketball camp, Vacation Bible School, zoo day camp, trips to the pool and oh yeah, making dinner once in a while and trying to manage (notice that eliminate was not the word of choice) Mt. St. Dirtyclothes.

Here are a few of the titles on my list:

Right now, I am reading Love, Greg and Lauren, which is haunting and beautiful and inspiring. It's a compilation of emails written by Greg Manning beginning on 11 September 2001, when his wife Lauren was severely injured as she walked into her building at the World Trade Center. As she stepped into the lobby, the elevator door opened and out exploded a giant fireball, created by burning jet fuel. She was burned over 82 percent of her body. Greg wrote almost daily email missives to keep the many family members, friends and acquaintances who were asking after her updated. It's sometimes hard to read, because it really takes you back to that day. As Greg recounts Lauren's struggle for survival and mentions things that happen during those days, I can feel my gut clench, just like it did back then. I think about how far we have come (or not) since that day, the accomplishments and the losses. Although I'm not finished with it and I don't know how it ends (I am not one of those readers who will read the last page first), it is inspiring to read about and be reminded of how we as a country pulled together in those dark days. I found it by pure chance at the library; we had gone to sign up the little people for the summer reading program and they were gathering up their own summer reading. I was waiting sort of patiently for them to inspect every title on the shelves and glancing at a cart of books to be out back and there it was.

I had just started Best Friends Forever by Jennifer Weiner when I picked up Love, Greg and Lauren, so I decided to set it aside for the time being. I bought BFF and can read it anytime and the other is a library book. I love Jennifer Weiner's books. I started reading her about nine years ago when the middle boy-child was just an itty-bitty. Her books are sort of fluff, chick lit if you will, and yet they're never silly. They address serious topics in a relatable way, and her characters are always people you feel like you know. She's funny and her characters are often self-deprecating, and snark abounds. And just when you think the main character is getting really annoying with the self-deprecating feeling-sorry-for-herself-ness, you get a heartbreaking glimpse of why. She tells a compelling story in an enjoyable and entertaining way, and it's hard to put her books down. It's not necessarily because she writes so suspensefully that you HAVE to know what happens next, it's just that her stories are so fun to read that you don't want it to end.

I have been hearing about The Hunger Games trilogy quite a bit lately and wanted to check it out. I picked up an e-copy of the first book for $5 and I'll start that next. I flipped through it at the store and it looked interesting. It's kind of futuristic but not in a space-agey sort of way, and it's a fascinating look into what could be if we as a human race allow it. I've heard a lot of positive reviews from my reading friends so I'm anxious to see what it's all about. It's not the kind of thing I'd normally pick up, but sometimes those are the best finds of all.

I have on my list some faith reading as well. I really enjoy Max Lucado and I want to read Fearless, as well as When God Whispers Your Name, which I just picked up at the local used bookstore. Outlive Your Life is another one. I don't know how many I will actually get through but I have a long list of his books on my to-do list. One book that has been recommended to me, more than once actually, by my friends is The Passion of Mary Margaret, which is faith fiction and sounds compelling. A few others are Stalking the Divine: Contemplating Faith with the Poor Clares and Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion, both recommended by my friend WriterMommy who always has a great reading list, great perspectives and is an awesome book club organizer, yo! My friend Lynn has been reading and quoting Thomas Merton of late and has gotten me quite curious, so I'm planning to carve out some time for that too.

It sounds like a pretty ambitious reading list for summer. I'm already on it. We have instituted some new rules in the house this year and I'm working on enforcing the old ones to make more time for lying around reading and less time for video games and movies. Not that there's anything wrong with those, in moderation, but books are where it's at. The last couple of nights, after pajamas and teeth-brushing, the boys and I all piled into bed with our books, and they got upset after an hour when I made them stop reading so they could go to bed. I'm digging that.

What's on your summer reading list?

Good enough

2011-05-10T00:12:00.000-04:00

***I received a complimentary copy of "Good Enough is the New Perfect," by Becky Beaupre Gillespie and Hollee Schwartz Temple from my friends at From Left to Write, and this post was inspired by the book. The views and opinions contained within are 100% my own and not necessarily endorsed by the authors and/or the website.***

A significant number of the women interviewed for this book about creating your own version of work/family balance in your life are, or at least used to be, lawyers. A career in law was a cherished dream I gave up about eleven years ago after the birth of my first child, when I realized that the life I had chosen, and the life that had chosen me, would not permit the single-minded focus I believed a career in law demanded. Law school is three hard years, a lot of time spent arguing hypothetical cases in front of mock juries, and a lot of hours spent in the library looking up precedents and researching case law.

I was 29 when Moe was born, and I'd spent nearly nine years serving in the military, a career choice all in itself. I was at the point in that career where I needed to think about the future: I was already nearly halfway to retirement eligibility. I know, that kind of sounds ridiculous for someone who wasn't even thirty yet, but it had to be considered. I also married a man who travels extensively for work. All the time. Not that he goes away on business now and then, but going away is his business, as an airline pilot. I can count on his being gone for an average of 15 days every month. Yeah, that's half of every month that I'm doing the married-single-mom shuffle. I don't begrudge him this and I don't resent it; I chose it when I chose him. I will, however, cop to some serious envy occasionally, that he sometimes gets entire days off to wander around San Francisco or Seattle or New York City. He gets to sleep a full night, by himself, in linens he didn't have to wash and a bed he didn't have to make. Color me green. But there are lots of up-sides to his work too: when he's not flying, he's home. Like, really home. As in, doesn't have to go to the office or the airport and can therefore log a significant number of mornings getting the boys up and fed and ready for school. He can drive to tee-ball practice and karate lessons, and he does. A lot. He also brought two children with him into our marriage, who were teenagers when we married. While they didn't live with us full-time, they were certainly a big part of our family, and a factor in every decision we made. Suffice it to say, I couldn't make life decisions based solely on what I wanted anymore. So I gave up the idea of going to law school, not being willing to give up so much time and effort that I believed was better spent on my family.

After Moe came Larry, and we were surprised a couple of years after that by Curly's arrival. While they were little, it was all I could do to keep them all dressed and in clean diapers while Captain America was off flying the friendly skies, let alone try to hold down a regular job or manage any kind of classwork at all. I set aside my aspirations and I didn't begrudge my family. I stayed in the military and I forgot about law school. I didn't do it without sadness and regret, and I didn't do it without paying a price, but I did it because I grew up with parents who weren't around and to me, being a good parent has always meant being present, physically and mentally.

I piddled around in college, not knowing what to do since I had taken law off the table. I went part-time, aimlessly, for a lot of years until I figured out something that I could get passionate about, that I loved doing, that I was good at. Finally, finally, 14 years after my first undergrad quarter, I'm graduating with a degree in history. But now, I'm once again at a crossroads, with a decision to make. This time around as I make big decisions, I know something I didn't know before. I know how to carve out space in my life for the things that are important to me, that make me who I am, irrespective of being a wife and a mom. I know more about how and where to draw the line about what I am willing to give up, and what I need to keep. I believe that being a wife and a mom is my vocation. I don't believe that there is anything else I could do that is more important than raising good and decent human beings and being the best partner I can be to Captain America. But while my family may be the most important I ever do or contribute to, it's not the only thing.

I'm poised to reach the point of eligibility for a military retirement in just a few months. That is a huge milestone achievement for me. My degree is another one: I am the only person in my immediate family to attend, let alone graduate from, college. Neither of my parents, nor none of my four siblings ever went. And I'm not done with school: my big decision relates to the possibility of resurrecting a dream that I thought was abandoned. I am seriously considering going to law school; at a point in life when many people are well established in careers, I feel like I'm just starting mine. It's odd to look around at my classmates and realize, without exaggeration, that I could be their mother.

OK, admittedly I'm still learning how to carve out that space. Sometimes I go too far and commit to too many outside activities and need to reel myself back in and reorient myself on my true north, my family. Sometimes I immerse myself a little too much at home, and forget that I do have interests and pursuits and goals that have nothing to do with the care and feeding of my little people. I also know that life happens while you're busy making big plans and I have learned a lot about flexibility and Plan B.

In the book, Hollee and Becky share that the women they interviewed sorted themselves roughly into two groups: the Never Enough's and the Good Enough's, that probably need no further definition. I can think of several examples of each in my circle of friends and acquaintances, and if there's one thing we all have in common, it's that we're all trying to do our best for our families, and for ourselves. There's no checklist, no template; each of our families are different and have different needs and wants. There is no right answer. We're doing the best we can. And that is good enough.

Disarray

2011-04-28T11:13:00.001-04:00

Although you wouldn't necessarily gather this about me by looking around my house, I don't like clutter and mess. I like things to generally be in their place and semi-straightened up. I have a family that includes three boys and one husband; I know my house is never going to look like something out of a magazine (unless maybe there is a print version of Hoarders, but I digress...) and I don't really want it to. But I do like things to be generally in order.

This week has been a tough one, because we're in transition. We're moving out old furniture and moving new stuff in. So. Half of the old set, which has found a new home with a good friend, is still in my garage. We started loading it into a truck and then...the skies opened and out poured enough rain to fill Lake Michigan. Well, maybe not quite that much, but honestly, it's been raining here for weeks. So, the rest of that set sits in the garage until the friends and the husband can both be here at the same time to load and move.

This also means that there is no furniture in the bedroom. As in, sleeping on the floor. Amid piles of clothes. Since there is, of course, no bed and no dressers in there. I have slept in worse conditions, that is true. And I had some cushy comforters and blankies to make a reasonably comfortable nest out of. It wasn't that bad, and it was only two nights.

As I am typing this, two strapping young men are upstairs putting together the new bedroom set and I can hardly wait to start putting things back to rights. Clothes in dressers, knick-knacks back on shelves. I can hear the power tools buzzing right this very minute, and it really makes me happy. It's not something I can do, build furniture, but it sure makes me happy that others can. It will make the mess in my house go away, at least temporarily.

Just like in my bedroom, clutter and mess in my life make me grumpy too. There has been some more family drama as of late, and I am only indirectly involved. It directly affects people that I love, and there is very little I can do about that either. I can provide emotional support, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and maybe offer some insight or advice. But I can't fix what's wrong. And I can't stop the tears from flowing, and the pain from crashing in.

And just like these guys that are fixing the disarray in my room, there is a silver lining in all these clouds that will bring light into the darkness that has been hanging over my family for several weeks now.

That's the thing....I have to learn to live with the temporary disarray and messiness, in order to get to the order and (relative) neatness that makes me feel better. And I have to let my people suffer the pain and wander in the dark, so that they can find that silver lining. If it was light all the time, they'd never see that one sparkly place.

And man, is it a good silver lining.

I really dislike clutter and mess, darkness and pain. But I have learned that it is a necessary step on the way to a happy and peaceful place.

Now I'm going upstairs to put my clothes away and make my new bed :)

Faith and conversion

2011-04-18T11:38:00.001-04:00

I just read the most amazing book yesterday. (Book club girls, look away, LOOK AWAY, if you haven't read it yet!)

It is called Unplanned, and it is written by a young woman named Abby Johnson, who was at one time the director of a Planned Parenthood clinic. She had a dramatic conversion over the course of several years working for Planned Parenthood first as a volunteer, and eventually as a fulltime paid employee, rising to the level of director of her own clinic and a media representative for Planned Parenthood. She is passionate about helping women; you can see that and feel it in her story. No matter which side of the fence she is on, literally or figuratively, you can really get a sense of the depth of her commitment. This post is not a debate about abortion or reproduction rights or any of that icky political stuff. I have my beliefs, and you have yours, but I don't want to argue. And see, this is my blog :)

No, I don't want to debate at what point a fetus becomes viable, or what point a fetus gains legal personhood or what the intricacies of the law should look like in my perfect world. I want to examine Abby's conversion and just stand in awe at what faith can do.

Abby was firmly pro-choice, and believed strongly that women should have the right to choose what to do with their own bodies. Abby believed whole-heartedly that Planned Parenthood's mission was to decrease the number of abortions overall, and she believed she was working for the betterment of women's lives. She believed she was working as a part of a force for good in the world.

But she always had these little questions nagging at her. She couldn't always reconcile what she said she believed with the actions she took. She was horrified when a very pregnant woman came into her clinic and asked for a late-term abortion, at twenty-three weeks. Her own line in the sand was at the point of viability; she couldn't abide late term abortions. But this woman really challenged her; she said to Abby, "What difference does it make, six weeks or twenty-three weeks? Isn't it all the same anyway? I just want it out of me." Bound by her commitment and responsibility as clinic director, Abby sent the woman to a medical facility that did late term abortions, not being able to budge the woman from her decision with adoption agency referrals or the knowledge that the baby was in fact medically viable. The woman simply didn't care, and it bothered Abby greatly. But this was not the point where she acted. Not yet. She was asked to assist in a procedure one day, and what she saw and what she felt in that room added to her growing inner turmoil But this was not the point where she acted yet either.

Finally, she was given a reprimand and a stern talking-to about her clinic's failure to meet its financial goals. She was told to do whatever she had to do, to raise revenue. She knew that the clinic made the most money from performing abortions as opposed to family planning and birth control education, and she believed she was being told to increase, not decrease, the number of abortions performed in her clinic. That went against everything she believed she had been working for, and that was what finally pushed her into action. She left Planned Parenthood and ran into the arms of the "enemy," the Coalition for Life.

Outside of Abby's clinic, there was a fence with a gate where Planned Parenthood employees and client drove through to park their cars. The fence is symbolic in Abby's story; it's not the kind of fence you can sit on. You must choose a side. On one side was Planned Parenthood and on the other was the Coalition for Life and other pro-life individuals who would stand on the sidewalk and offer prayers, or try to persuade the clients going in not to go, that there were other options they should consider.

Out of all of the facets to Abby's story, the one thing that I found most compelling was her relationship with God. She wanted to be closer to Him, but she wouldn't give up the one thing that meant so much to her, her job. She truly believed she was doing good work and her family needed the paycheck she brought in. She went from church to church, finding varying degrees of comfort and acceptance, but never finding her spiritual home. She heard God's quiet questions and she wondered why, if she was doing good and she could take pride in her work, she couldn't tell her family about her job? Why did she avoid talking about it with her mother? Why did her pro-life husband, although he loved her, challenge her when she wanted to talk about things that happened in the clinic? Why did she avoid telling people at church what she did for a living? All these questions....

When we know we are doing what we are meant to do or following God's will for us, there is an inner peace that overcomes the questions. Not that the questions necessarily go away forever, but they don't hold the same power. It feels easier to let them go. Abby didn't stop having concerns but because her faith was increasing she was better able to trust that God would answer them in time. It's really hard to step out in faith, not knowing where the path leads, and afraid that it will lead you away from everything you know and all your places that feel familiar and safe.

Abby did just that, and I am in awe.

Her book is difficult, very difficult to read in places. I cried with her, more than once. But ultimately, in the end, it is a beautiful story of faith and redemption. It got me thinking about a lot of things, in ways I never had before. It made me question myself on what I believe, and why I believe. I don't know Abby Johnson and will probably never meet her. I borrowed the copy of Unplanned from one of my book club girls, didn't pay for it and didn't get asked to write about it. But I have been moved and affected by Abby's story, and it's made me approach my faith and my beliefs in a new way and I wanted to share it. I hope you will consider reading Unplanned, and letting it challenge you.

Any regrets?

2011-04-12T10:26:00.001-04:00

**I received a complimentary copy of 29, by Adena Halpern, from my friends at From Left to Write and while this post was inspired by the book, I have received no compensation for it. The thoughts and opinions in this piece are all my own and are not necessarily endorsed by From Left to Write or the author of the book.**

I have often thought about what I would do differently over the course of my life, if I had a chance to go back and do it over again. Adena Halpern's heroine, Ellie, in 29 got just such a chance. I really enjoyed reading the book, but even more than that, I enjoyed a meander down memory lane and a mental do-over just to see how things might have gone had I made another choice at several crossroads in my life. And if I had that chance, would I get to have the benefit of knowing what I know now? THAT would make a big difference. What age would I go back to? Which choice would I get to undo? It really kind of opens up a whole bunch of other questions, doesn't it?

One of my big regrets that I often think about was my decision to quit the job that I loved when my first child was born. I was a cargo loadmaster in the AF Reserve, and I LOVED my job. I oversaw cargo loading and unloading on C141 jets, and flew (literally) around the world as part of my work. My crew and I would leave our base, fly somewhere and pick up a load of stuff bound for somewhere else, fly there and download it. Sometimes we'd stay there, or sometimes we'd go and pick up another planeload of stuff somewhere else. Sometimes we just flew passengers (usually troops or military family members) and sometimes we flew aeromedical evac missions. We worked hard and played hard. We stayed hotel rooms in beautiful places sometimes and we stayed in tents in scary places other times. I have been all over Europe, several Middle Eastern locations, Asia, Central and South America, the Pacific Rim. I have pictures of myself on horseback at the pyramids in Egypt, and outside of centuries-old German castles, and on the beach in Hawaii. My very first mission, my "dollar ride," went to the south of France. I have a collection of t-shirts and souvenirs from all over. We used to call them "MAC treasures," MAC meaning Military Airlift Command. MAC is no more; the name is gone, but the mission of military airlift moves on, just under a different acronym. There certain things everyone bought in certain countries. There was the black soap from Spain, the wooden chests from the Azores. There were Persian rugs from Kuwait and leather purses and jackets from Turkey. In Korea, you could buy an amazing array of embroidered things: what we used to call "morale patches" for your flight suit, helmet bags that were bigger than the AF issued ones with your name and your wings sewn right on. Bag tags with anything you wanted embroidered on them, in any color you wanted. I had blue ones with my name and my wings, and Snoopy the Flying Ace on mine. Most of my friends were flight crew members also, and so was my husband. My whole world was on that airplane, for the most part.

And then, there was Moe. Sweet little Moe, precious baby, forced me to re-evaluate what was really important to me. I believed, right up till the moment I said, "I can't," that I would take some time off to be with him, and then I'd pack my bag for a short 3 or 4 day trip once in awhile, keeping the best of both worlds. I'm a notorious fence sitter...my butt is perfectly made to get real comfortable up there. My boss, Chief H, was as patient and kind as he could be; his first grandchild was born close to the same time as Moe, so he got to live through his daughter's pregnancy and mine almost simultaneously. He said, "Take as much time as you need. Your job will be here." Until he couldn't anymore, and he called me at home and said, "It's time for you to make a decision. I need to get you into the training schedule." As I was talking to him, I was sitting in Moe's room, watching my four month old baby boy sleeping peacefully, and I just couldn't bring myself to say, "Put me in, Coach." Instead, I said, "I don't think I can, Chief."

I had made my back-up plan and lined up another job that did not require me to travel. And as much as I loved the folks in that office, the first day I set foot in there, my heart sank and I knew that I had chosen wrong. It was a no-win; I didn't want to leave my baby, but I wanted a job that made me feel good too. If I was going to leave him to go to work, even part time, hadn't it better be worth it? But I was stuck with the decision I made, and over the years, I think I have made the best of it. After Moe came Larry and Curly, and today, flying is certainly out of the question altogether. I'd have been able to fly for maybe another year or two, most, anyway. I have discovered other things I love doing and my military career marches on. To a different beat and at a different pace, to be sure, but still it marches on. I am still friends with some of the same people, and I am still married to the same guy, so I have done pretty well in keeping the best of both worlds.

But....given the chance, would I go back to being 29 and making that decision over again? I don't know that I would decide differently. I had parents who weren't there when I was growing up and as much as I loved my job, I don't think I could have done it with my whole heart anymore. The minute I left the local pattern, I'd have been itching to get back home and get my hands on Moe. Where I used to identify myself as an AF reservist, a loadmaster, a flyer....now I identify myself more as Moe, Larry and Curly's mom and Captain America's wife. I am still an AF reservist and proudly wear the uniform (although it's not a flight suit anymore) and I wear other hats too.

I talk to my friends who are still flying and tell them how I still miss it, 11 years later. They ask me, if you could go back and change it, would you?

No, I still don't think I would. I would be tempted, seriously tempted. But I'd have to say that I love my life and if I had continued to fly, who knows what it would look like? No, it was a really hard decision that had some long lasting ripple effects, and I often wonder, what if? Given the chance, I still feel sure I made the right decision for me and my family, no matter how hard it was at the time.

In the book 29, Ellie gets to do some similar soul-searching, but you'll have to read it to see where her heart lies :)

The Pledge

2011-03-07T11:07:00.000-05:00

I recently read about something called The Mom Pledge, on my friend Elizabeth's blog, and it really piqued my interest.

She's written this great book about ceasing and desisting from the colossally ridiculous Mommy Wars, where we moms beat each other up mercilessly for making different choices than we ourselves did. Stay-at-home vs. working, breast-feeding vs. bottle-feeding, co-sleeping vs. cry-it-out, spanking vs. no-spank, cloth vs. disposable, jar baby food vs. grow your own, circumcise vs. intact, baby-wearing vs. exersaucers.....the list of these battles never ends. The fact of the matter is that the vast majority of us are all doing the very best we can with our kids, from day to day, doing what we believe in our hearts is the best thing for our own families. Who can find fault with that? Why must we not just critcize, but crucify, those who make different choices than we do? What makes us the authority on someone else's child? What right do we have to demean and excoriate someone else's mothering? Is ours so perfect? Really?

So, I have a few things to say about the Mommy Wars and the Mom Pledge. You knew that was coming, right?

I've pretty much laid out my feelings on the Mommy Wars. But in case there is any doubt, I think they are stupid and destructive. Motherhood is a gift. It's a blessing. And until you are there in it, no one can tell you how unbelievably difficult it is, at the same time it is so rewarding. It's so hard, to be so sleep deprived with a new infant, a colicky baby, a stubborn toddler....it's shocking that such a small person can literally bring a grown woman to her knees. But they do. Daily.

Which is why we moms need other, more experienced moms so desperately to help us navigate the rough waters. And we don't need their criticism. Especially as a new mom, you need to know that you're doing ok. Even if you can't nurse, or if you have to go back to work, or if you simply need someone else to take the baby out of earshot for 20 minutes so you can decompress. So what if you aren't following whatever the latest baby book of "wisdom" just got published, because there just aren't enough hours in the day to grow your own organic garden to make your own organic baby food, hand-wash your baby's organic cloth diapers in spring water and lovingly prepare perfectly balanced meals for your adoring spouse and perfectly-behaved older children who never complain about what's for dinner and beg for the pizza delivery man? So what if you're flying by the seat of your pants? So what if you haven't showered in two days? So what?

I remember vividly when my boys were babies, and I stayed awake at night, when I should have been getting the sleep I needed so badly. I stayed up worrying because some other mom on a message board told me I had irrevocably scarred my son and he would fault me someday because of choices my husband and I made for him. Other moms proclaimed against those of us who had taken pain medication in labor, that we had all made conscious choices to drug our babies, and that they would suffer for it and we'd have no one to blame but ourselves. There is no limit to the ways mothers can wound other moms, and frankly it makes me angry.

Why? Seriously, why? Are we all that insecure with our choices that we need to beat up on someone else to make ourselves feel better? Do we really think we're so much better than others who choose differently?

Only in the last couple of years have I come to truly appreciate the depth of my need for my circle of girlfriends....my village. I lean on them and they lean on me. Dude, I NEED them. And I have been blessed, BLESSED, I tell you, with a phenomenal group of friends and acquaintances that help me navigate, whether they realize it or not. Some moms I know a little bit....we chit-chat in the school parking lot waiting to pick up our kids or on the sidelines of the soccer field. Some moms I know better....we attend Bible study, prayer groups, or book clubs together and share more of ourselves. And some moms I know really well: we've helped each other pick up pieces of broken relationships and comforted each other through real losses.

All of them are crucial and all of them, I need. A lot.

Which is why I've chosen to take The Mom Pledge. Not that my little blog gets much traffic or many comments but I don't tolerate bullying or being mean for the sake of being mean. I don't tolerate it in my kids' school or in their behavior, I don't tolerate it in my life, and I really don't tolerate it in conversation and interactions I happen to be a part of. I like a good healthy debate and differences of opinion are welcome.
But the bottom line is respect, people. R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

We moms have another choice to make. Right now. Do you want to be part of the problem, or part of the solution? Do you want to help other moms and offer advice and friendship or criticize them and make them feel worse? Do you want to help create and be part of a supportive community or a playground bully, a "mean girl"?

Play nice :)

Just do it

2011-02-25T21:09:00.001-05:00

I have been seriously absent from writing new posts lately. For the last several months, in fact. Not that I haven't had reasons, other demands on my time. And a sneaking suspicion that maybe my ramblings are only interesting to me, but I don't really want to think about that right now.

So, I have decided, right now, tonight, to just do it. Just write something.

One of the major reasons that I have been so lax on blogging is the fact that I am in an all-out sprint to the finish line of my undergraduate degree. Today ended the eighth week in a ten-week quarter. I have two weeks of classes, then finals, and then.....nothing. Till graduation in June. Nothing. Well, nothing but big decisions to make about what I am going to do next.

In an act of blind faith, I recently bought study guides for the GRE (grad school test) and the LSAT (law school test). I say "blind faith," because that's the kind of faith that I have, that I will know what to do, when the time comes. I've gotten quite comfortable up here on the fence, and the view on the grad school side looks a lot like the view on the law school side. A lot more school, more papers, and ideally, something at the end of the road to show for my hard work.

But I also have this new option to consider, that I hadn't really thought about until very recently. Maybe I won't go back to school at all. Maybe I'll continue doing what I'm doing right now: working part time for my Reserve unit, writing history. And I'll be an active engaged mom, instead of the frazzled, always-running-late-for-school-pickup mess that I have become. I am eternally grateful to have a supportive spouse in Captain America, who picks up way more than his fair share of my slack. When he's home. He does laundry, he drops off and picks up and chats with the moms at least as well (probably better than!) as I do. He does dishes, and he manages the busy social lives and practice schedules of Moe, Larry and Curly. And boy, am I ever grateful.

But last weekend, I had a little moment where I questioned myself, an epiphany of sorts. When the boys come looking for me (which happens less and less often these days), they come to the computer first. Mostly, they look for dad. But if he's not home, they have no choice. And it bums me out immensely that they have internalized that I'm generally too busy working on schoolwork to deal with their requests for snacks or their arguments, or just to help with their vocabulary homework (if it's math and dad's not home, they're really out of luck).

I get that it's important for me to do something that means something to me, whether it's work, or school, or a hobby; a pursuit that feeds my soul, and fulfills me in some way. I have said 'yes' to many of these things: I work part-time, I write freelance, I volunteer frequently at the dudes' school, I teach preschool PSR (parish school of religion), I go to school myself, I am part of a mother's prayer group, I have joined a book club, I help coordinate and put on Vacation Bible School in the summer. And I have a family that needs me to be present, and friends I want to spend time with...you see where I'm going with this.

It's a familiar refrain...learning to say 'no.' We women are helpers and nurturers by nature, and it's difficult to say 'no' to someone who is asking for help. I think maybe it's more of an issue of learning to say 'yes' to the right things, and concentrating on giving your best to those. So what is it that truly feeds my soul? Where can I channel my efforts so that I can feel like they matter and they make a difference?

I'm a Libra; I can see both sides of any issue and am hopelessly wishy-washy. Hmm, maybe this law school thing isn't the best idea for me.... In any case, making a decision is often really hard for me, especially when it affects everyone else around me too. Going back to school again involves time given up with my family, and saying 'no' to some things that would make me happy.

I need to make decisions, but I'm afraid to, afraid that I'm choosing the wrong thing, or that my choice will make someone else mad, or that I'll regret the choice I make. But fear is no justification for a decision, and if I pursue something that ultimately fulfills me and makes me happy, then I'm a better person, and better mother for it.

Just do it.

Exploiting My Baby

2011-02-21T18:33:00.000-05:00

is a funny book by Teresa Strasser, that I recently read, thanks to my friends at From Left to Write.

I'll be honest....at first, I wasn't crazy about this book. I thought it looked like a Jenny-McCarthy-Belly-Laughs-esque funny look at the hormonal train wreck that pregnancy often is...the irrational fears that keep you up at night, the breathless hope of what is yet to come, the consuming impatience to meet your baby, and the abject terror of BEING SOMEONE'S MOM.

When I opened it up, I found something a little different....Teresa is blunt and in-your-face. She's snarky and she makes fun of you, right to your face. She uses salty language and there are a LOT of people in this world she wants to punch in the face. I may be one of them, in fact, having mostly enjoyed my pregnancies, but I digress.

But Teresa is also real. I understand where she's coming from, a lot of the time. The fears that she will turn into her own kid-hating mother are very real, and I get it. When you come from dysfunction and your memories of childhood don't make you smile, impending motherhood is maybe a little scarier for you than for someone who had good role models and a living, breathing example of a functioning family unit. Some girls had moms who stayed home to raise them, taught them to cook and bake, led their Girl Scout troops, and proudly took an embarrassing amount of homecoming and prom pictures. Some girls had moms who worked and taught them how to set goals and then work hard to reach them, how to prioritize what's important, how to balance different aspects of their lives, and how to make things happen. Some girls had moms who juggled all of these things and more.

And then some of us had moms who just weren't there, literally or figuratively. And that's the hardest of all, learning to be a mom when you want to be completely and totally different from the one you had.

I give Teresa credit for having the guts to put herself out there and tell her story. I have to give her credit for being scared and doing it anyway (not that she doesn't get hung up along the way, mind you). While her near-constant paranoia and plentiful ragging on other moms whose methods or manners she doesn't like sometimes get old, I was happy for her toward the end of the book when she begins to make peace with her mom.

About all those pronouncements, though. I am reminded of the ancient piece of wisdom about karma: it's a bitch.

She kind of turns into the mom that she spent her whole book making fun of. She chases the dragon, trying to make that baby smile. She goes for a day or two (or three) without showers. She packs her schedule with Mommy & Me classes. She buys every toy, swing and Baby Mozart DVD that Toys R Us can hold and she not only has whole conversations about baby poop, SHE TAKES PICTURES OF IT.

I love it.

It happens to all of us, Teresa....you're in good company. We were all scared first-time moms too, and we all thought we were going to do it better too.

I liked the book, in spite of my initial reaction. I'm glad I kept going because, although I still don't think you need to use the F word a lot to talk about wanting, carrying, birthing, loving or exploiting a baby and I don't really advocate violence so I don't see a need to punch people in the face, Teresa's book made me laugh. It made me think about how I relate to other moms. It made me grateful for my group of mom friends that I lean on, and it made me kind of wish I could bump into Teresa at the mall.

Then again, I don't know. I don't want to get punched in the face.

Blocked

2010-12-16T15:38:00.000-05:00

I have come here to post, to write, to ramble, and I find that I can't. Over and over, I have started to write something and before I can string together a couple of coherent sentences, I just throw up my hands and hit 'delete.'

I always have something to say. I always have an opinion on things. I always want to write, too.

But, just lately, I find that I can't. And it bugs me. Like, really bugs me.

I've never had writer's block before. I've never wanted to write, and found that I couldn't.

So, I still haven't come up with anything good, but I'm hitting 'post' this time and not 'delete.'

To all of my readers, and you know who you are (all three or four of you!), I wish you a very safe, happy and blessed holiday season. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Thank you

2010-11-11T17:27:00.000-05:00

Today is Veterans' Day. I want to take a moment to say thank you.

Thank you to all the veterans who have served and sacrificed and worked long hours in awful places, so that I can sit comfortably in my house and watch my children play safely in my front yard. Even though that wasn't the reason you did what you did, that's the result and for that I'm grateful. You may not consider yourself a hero, but I do.

Thank you to the families of veterans who have given up so much precious time with their fathers, husbands, daughters, sisters, wives, sons, and brothers, spent long hours on your knees in church or by your bedside, praying for the safe return of your loved ones, and waited by the phone or computer for the phone calls and emails that come as often as they can but are never quite enough.

Thank you to the kids who are this very moment packing for basic training, the kids who, in spite of the reservations their families and friends must have given the state of the world we're living in, are answering their nation's call. Thank you to the soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines you will all become in a few short months.

Thank you to those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for the United States. "Thank you" isn't even nearly enough...your loss will be felt forever and there is nothing that can give enough comfort to a mother or father, wife or husband, son or daughter who has said goodbye for the last time.

This morning, I spent some time at my kids' school helping put on a Veterans' Day presentation. Along with several other moms, I gave some of my time to help the kids learn about what a veteran does, and why it's important to say "Thank You." I don't know a single vet (and I know a fair amount) who really wants to be made a huge deal over. I don't know many who would call themselves a "hero." Most would say, "I was just doing my job." No one expects or even really wants the ticker tape parades and all the hoopla. But it sure is nice when someone says, "Thank you for what you do."

I think of one the most important things we can do is to teach our children about the value of service, of giving something back, of contributing to something bigger than yourself. Our children are not only our own futures, but the future of this country. Saying "Thank you" takes no time at all, and it doesn't cost anything at all, but the dividends are tremendous.

So for this one day, no politics, no points to be made, no agendas. Just....thank you.

Seriously, is it worth it?

2010-11-04T22:50:00.000-04:00

Good Lord. I'm posting maybe twice a month lately, and it's because of school. It feels like I have zero time for anything besides school. These are my last two quarters, and it is HARD. I finally reached the place where all my man-cubs are in their own school all day, and I thought I'd have time. More time. I have one afternoon and two whole days a week off from school, and silly me, I thought that would be, you know, free time. Heh.

I cannot adequately express how many pages of reading (and subsequently, writing) I am required to do every week for three history classes. Hundreds of pages every day. Literally. Not only do I have to read them all, I have to analyze them in the context of the geopolitical situation, AND remember it all well enough to discuss it intelligently the next day, or the day after that. Maybe I'm not cut out for college after all. Oy vey.

In one of my classes, we received a sound scolding today for not doing the reading. The professor did not raise her voice or call us names, but she made her disappointment perfectly clear. She sent us home to read, with the promise of a quiz at our next class meeting. On top of the quiz we were already having. When she said, 'you need to go home and read' and dismissed us a half hour early, I felt like I'd been naughty, and sent to bed without dinner. But I was grateful all the same, to get out of 30 minutes of class time.

I know it's ridiculous to even entertain the idea of quitting school. I'm less than two quarters from my degree. But right now, I'm wondering if it's worth it. I'm giving up a lot of time with my family, a lot of sleep, and my stress level is through the roof. I told Captain America the other day, "I've come to a realization and I don't like it, but it is what it is. I am useless to this family until the end of March, when winter quarter is over and I will be finished taking undergrad classes. Useless." He is totally supportive and awesome but I hate this not being present at home business. I'm here but I'm not. And when I am here, I'm busy writing for my freelance gig (deadline Monday!) or organizing a Veterans' Day event at the kids' school (which I do NOT begrudge and I do enjoy, it's just a lot of work).

And here's the really crazy part....I'm considering (or at least, I was till this quarter) grad school. I think maybe it's this one professor and her class that has me feeling so bad. She barrels through lectures, she's kind of soft spoken and I'm hearing-challenged, AND she clicks through her power points so fast, I can barely read them, let alone process and/or write down notes. She has high expectations and I am just not meeting them. She keeps saying things like, 'this is a 500-level class so we have to up the ante...' but my 600-level professor is perfectly happy keeping things a little more relaxed. I'm learning just as much, if not more, from him, but he's not tightening the screws every time the class meets.

But in spite of feeling so maxed out, today was really a good day. I was afraid that, due to overnight guests in my bed keeping me awake till all hours, it was going to be a rough one but it's a funny thing....I said a little prayer and asked for help to get through my day (Captain America is somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, enjoying a nice walk in the sunshine and sleeping in, by himself. Not that I'm jealous) and I did. The boys sailed through getting ready for school and were even ready to go 5 minutes before I asked them to be. No muss, no fuss. This doesn't happen on the days I don't take the time to ask God for help.

Note to self....maybe you should think about asking for help every day, not just the crappy ones. Hmm.

So, I'll be going to morning prayer with the boys at school tomorrow. To remind myself that it's ok, and necessary to ask for help. And also because the middle man-cub is participating in a skit. Dressed like George Washington. White wig and all. I sense a photo op.

The Kids Are Alright Part II

2010-10-15T16:31:00.000-04:00

It took me a little longer than I'd have liked but that's how my life goes.

I finished The Kids Are Alright yesterday morning at about 1:00. Wow. As I started to write in my previous post, this book is just wonderfully written. I love that all the Welch kids take turns writing chapters. I almost hate to call them chapters, since they're mostly just a few paragraphs, maybe a page or two, but they are always significant. In any case, it's how the reader gets to know each of the Welches in turn, and in their own words. Each of them has their own distinctive voice and their own way with words. Liz and Diana have become professional writers and I'm not at all surprised.

I'm finding myself relating most to Diana, the baby of the Welch family, since I myself am the baby of my family. Not that I faced the kind of heartbreaks that the Welch kids did, but I also lost one parent very young and had the other parent just check out on me. I spent my growing-up years with people other than my family, not sure how I got there or what would happen to me. And ultimately it was my sisters who helped me find my way.

This story is just a powerful testament to love and to family and to the ties that bind. No matter how far-flung the Welch siblings were, they always loved each other and took care of one another the best way they knew how. Amanda, who seemed so angry and didn't want any part of "family bullshit" like vacations together, turned out to be a pretty darn good mom to her younger brother and sisters and never gave up on any of them. She had the most time with her mom, but she had to learn so much on the fly. Liz loved fiercely and was always ready to drop everything when she was needed. Dan drifted toward adulthood and real life aimlessly but he had two guiding lights to keep him from going off the edge of a cliff. I feel especially for Dan, because he was the only boy in the family and he didn't have anyone to help him learn what it means to be a man, a partner, a husband, a father. Diana, well, God love her, I feel a real kinship with her. I would argue that she drew the short straw for being the baby and being the one who had to work the hardest at understanding what was happening.

I wrote out this whole long post, and when I read it before I hit 'post' it occurred to me that it sounded like a book report. Which really doesn't do it justice at all. Let me try again.

What I really want to say about this book, is that it touched me deeply. I felt drawn in, like I was one of them. I laughed with them and I cried with them. Dan broke my heart when he didn't think anyone gave a crap about how much acid he was dropping. I wanted to just wrap Diana up in my arms and take her home with me when Nancy told her that she was ugly and no one wanted her around. Amanda wanted and tried to just forget everything and party her way through life, and I just wanted to slap her a high five reading about how she started to get it, about how important her siblings were to her, and when she creates new holiday traditions with them. And I love that Liz pursued her own life and studied abroad and yet was still always there for the others. What a phenomenal family. Just...wow.

And at the end, there is hope and forgiveness. As much as they had stacked up against them, the Welches keep on keepin' on, and refused to give up or give in. As much as they've all struggled to find their way, they have all come out ahead. Marriage, careers, and the ultimate expression of hope, children.

Yeah, the kids are alright.

The Kids Are Alright

2010-10-11T20:16:00.000-04:00

Oh look. Another month and a half gone.

Fall quarter is in full swing for me, and you know what that means. For a history major, it means tons and tons and TONS of reading. Which is why I'm still trying desperately to find time to finish The Kids Are Alright. I started it at least ten times, during the few moments I could steal to read something for pleasure rather than for an obligation, always dozing off before I got past page 5. Not because the book is boring or dull....it isn't. Not because the story isn't compelling and heart-wrenching and phenomenally written....it is.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I must tell you that I am only about halfway through the book. But what I've read so far, is why I read so much of it in one afternoon. I found myself with some time today and picked it up (again) and honestly couldn't put it down. I'm blowing off a book on Hitler (which, to a history major with a serious love for military history, is a bit like turning down a hit on the ol' crack pipe) to finish it tonight.

It's the story of four siblings, the Welch family, written in turn by each of them. Each chapter heading is the name of the sibling that wrote those particular pages. It's the story of their father's sudden and kind of mysterious death, and their mother's illness that came on the heels of it. It is about how they each experienced these life altering and world shattering events, as children.

Each of them has their own very distinctive voice, and it didn't take me long to figure out who was writing, even without the chapter headings. Amanda is the oldest and she sounds angry. She is MAD. Maybe she's not now, but then....whoo. Liz is ironic and articulate, and it doesn't surprise me to read on the back cover that she is a writer. Dan is kind of sarcastic and blunt and doesn't mince his words. And Diana is the baby. She seems kind of bewildered at all that is going on around her. She can't influence any of it and must just go along for the ride. They're all heartbroken and devastated by their father's death and angered by their mother's inability to deal with it. It's funny and sad and touching and messy and real.

I love it. I am invested in the players...do you call them characters when they are real people?...and I want to know more. So, I'm going to go finish the book, so I can finish writing about it.

Oh look

2010-09-06T11:00:00.001-04:00

I did it again, let more than two weeks slip by without typing one coherent sentence.

It's Labor Day, a day of rest for those who labor. It's also the day after my middle man-cub's 8th birthday. I feel a little melancholy today, and although I've never been a mom who gets weepy at the thought of her babies growing up, birthdays certainly indicate that time does indeed march on. He's kind of in between, he's not a little kid anymore, but he's not quite a big kid yet. He's a textbook middle child, going with the flow and low maintenance in so many ways, yet always seeming to be afraid he'll be left out or forgotten. If one of his brothers get praised for something, Larry chimes in, "What about me? I did that too!" Or if someone gets scolded for something, he pipes up, "That wasn't me! I didn't do that!"

He's all boy, in almost every way, even down to being kind of a mama's boy but only when his friends aren't looking. This picture isn't current, by any means, but it's one of my top two or three favorites of him. He's walking into the surf, for the very first time, holding his big brother's hand. It's just my favorite.

Happy birthday big dude.

So, noticing the passage of time today. And sad about hearing of the rough patch in a marriage of two people who are very dear to me. I'm hoping and praying that the power of love and the power of forgiveness can and will overcome the power of anger and the power of hurt feelings. The only thing I can do to help them is to pray for them, and be here to listen if they need or want me to. It doesn't feel right to sit by silently when people I care about are suffering, but at the same time, they are the only ones who can fix the issue. It's not mine to fix. But it still makes me sad, and at the same time, it makes me feel grateful for the people in my life who are willing to overlook my faults, forgive my mistakes and love me in spite of them.

Where did the summer go?

2010-08-15T10:12:00.000-04:00

First there was Vacation Bible School, then there was basketball camp. Then there was another basketball camp, and then football camp. Oh yes, and then there was zoo camp, and a few blessedly un-busy quiet days on a lake in Maine.

Here we are, the 15th of August, and summer break is officially over. The little people are not quite back to school yet, but we've done our school-supply shopping (including a special car box of Kleenex for me as my baby goes off to all-day school), packed backpacks, and we've pushed back bedtime and started force-marching a little earlier in the morning in preparation. But the real reason I know summer is over?

Sports practices have started.

Yep, one kid has two soccer practices each week, in addition to two nights at the karate studio. Another kid has four (count 'em, FOUR) football practices each week, and the other kid gets a whole lot of time either watching his brothers do stuff or riding in the car to and from. And did I mention that my husband travels for work? A lot? Like half of every month?

This is when I know that Hillary was right and it truly does take a village, to get my kids to and from all their stuff. In fairness, we signed up the one dude for soccer before he chose karate, and we're all about honoring our commitments here (as well as not wasting the money already spent on the sign-up fee). But fortunately, once school starts in a couple weeks, the soccer practices go away, and he'll only have games. Soccer season is over mid October, depending on how they do in the tournament. Football drops one practice, but that still means three practices and a game each week. Football season is also over mid October. And thankfully we have friends to carpool with for all the activities.

I had a mini meltdown yesterday over the chaos my life has become. Some people thrive on chaos, and having a million things to do and a million places to go all the time. I'm honestly not one of them. I like being busy, having a reason to get up and get moving every day and getting things accomplished, but crazybusy makes me, well, crazy.

Thank God for good friends, truly. My good friend listened to me patiently, gave me a hug and told me that she loved me, and then she arranged my week for me.

Mondays are especially tricky right now, given my involvement with a women's retreat group at church. Because that takes me totally out of the loop, when one kid has to be at karate, the other has to be at football and the other just needs to be corralled. Captain America has been home a lot lately, but he's going flying tonight and I'm a leetle nervous. I lean on him pretty hard when he's home and he's fantastic about doing (more than) his fair share of driving, laundry and dishes.

But I can't, I WON'T, give up my time with my girls and my God on Monday nights. I need it. It feeds me in a way that being a good and dutiful mother and wife does not and cannot. What I guess I do need is to learn better time management skills, and to put limits on what I (and my kids) can reasonably do.

How did a post about summer being over turn into a post about my scheduling needs? That's how I roll.

Somewhere in the in-between

2010-06-29T12:39:00.000-04:00

I've been reading several books lately, at the same time. I know that probably sounds ridiculous, so let me explain a little more.

One I'm reading, called A Postcard from the Volcano, is historical fiction. It's a serious book, with heavy and thought-provoking themes. It's about Germany and all its historical and political angst between WWI and WWII. It could be required reading for a college history course. I love it. But, I can't read it in bed, because when I am reading in bed, I usually make it for about 15 minutes before I doze off. Reading something like this requires more brain power and it also requires me to not be asleep. So I'm moving through it more slowly, saving it for when I have time during the day (not often) so I can really concentrate and follow it.

These other two books I'm reading inspired the title for my post.

I'm re-reading Eclipse, because the movie is coming out this week, and I'm going to go see it with one of my Twi-Mom friends, and call me whatever you will, I love that dang Twilight series. It's overly angst-y (I like that word today) and dramatic and all high-school-girl-swoony-romantic, but I can't help myself. I love it. Yes, I know I'm a good 20, maybe 25 years older than the target audience. I get that I probably look silly waiting in line for tickets to Eclipse. Whatever. Even my single-digit-age boy children laugh at me for my not-so-secret obsession. Again, whatever. I'm Team Edward, all the way.

And I'm also reading a book called Committed, by Elizabeth Gilbert. She is the author of Eat, Pray, Love, and Committed is the follow-up of sorts to that story. In a nutshell, the author, having been through a gut-wrenching divorce and having sworn off the institution of marriage, finds herself in a relationship with a man who is a citizen of another country. He has also been through a horrible, gut-wrenching divorce and they are perfectly matched in their desire to A) be with one another and B) not be joined in holy matrimony. They lead this multi-continental life together, staying in many places for a time, but never too long, until one day their jig is up and his American visa is revoked. So, they either have to live somewhere besides America or get married, making him a citizen. For this couple with their horror of marriage, it's quite a quandary.

Now, to be fair, I'm still in the early part of the book, and so I don't know yet how it turns out. Right now, I'm reading through the author's historical research on the institution of marriage, and what it actually means in other cultures. And it ain't all that romantic. Or holy. In fact, it sounds like a rather cynical view of marriage, where it's all about survival (safety in numbers) or power (arranged marriages to keep rich landowners rich). And there are lots of Biblical references to Jesus and His apostles instructing men not to get involved with women at all, to remain celibate and follow Him, and ONLY get married as a last resort if one simply could not follow the higher path.

So, on the one hand, there is a book written for teenage girls, idealizing and romanticizing the notion of being together for all eternity and how loving the right boy (and giving up your whole identity and free will to him) will complete you as a person. In this book in the series, Edward and Bella decide to seal their fates together and get married. Bella does have some reservations about getting married at 18, but the overall theme is still the same, that loving (marrying) the right boy makes everything ok.

And on the other hand is a book that starts out with the quote, "Plant an expectation, and reap a disappointment." With joined gold wedding bands as the cover art and a title like Committed. Cynical, I tell you!

A contradiction of sorts, yes?

I didn't choose to read these two together purposely, but I find it an amusing coincidence. In my admittedly limited experience of relationships and marriage, I have found the truth of the matter to be somewhere in the in-between of the two extremes illustrated in my summer reading. Sometimes I expect a whole lot of my spouse and my marriage...I expect him to just know when I'm having a bad day, and I expect him to somehow make it better. I expect fulfillment and happiness from being a wife and a mother (among other things). And it just flat pisses me off when things don't work out that way. Making me feel somewhat, dare I say it, cynical.

My husband is a good guy and a great dad, whom I would choose over and over again. But is he perfect? Can he magically make my bad day all better? Can he read my mind and soothe every anxiety and fear I harbor? No. To me, the more relevant question is, should he be expected to? I also have to answer that with no.

What do these books tell us about our society, our expectations, our relationships? Are they reflective of real truths, or are they just one woman's ideas?

And what are the odds that I'd pick up these two at the same time?!

Everybody's doing it

2010-06-04T20:39:00.000-04:00

Apparently, it's "post your most embarrassing moment" week in blog-world.

Everybody's doing it.

Hmmmm, so many to choose from....there was the time I had gone into my office, shortly after the birth of my first child, to show him off. Now mind you, I worked in a flying squadron in the Air Force. Perhaps not the most baby-friendly environment one could think of. My boss was Lt. Col D, a tall, solid-built pilot with a booming voice that, with his Georgia accent, sounded remarkably like Foghorn Leghorn. Lt Col D was out of his office for a meeting (super top secret code for "at the golf course") and the baby needed to eat. I closed myself into his office after securing promises of privacy and interference-running for the following 20 minutes or so, from the folks who worked right outside his office. Not twenty seconds into nursing the baby, Lt Col P flings the door open, hollering, "Hey Bill!" scaring the crap out of me, the baby and then also himself. Thanks for running interference for me, guys. Just a couple of weeks before that, I had been just one of the guys in a flight suit in the squadron. I think we both came away from that incident scarred. I still have a hard time looking him in the eye.

Or perhaps the time I was with one of my darling offspring in a public restroom. Said offspring was in the process of potty training at the time of the incident. I sat down to, um, do my business, and as I finished, said offspring cheered me, saying, "Good job Mommy! I KNEW you could do it!" Hmm, wonder where he heard that before?

Maybe it's the time I had tried to take all three of my lovely children to Mass by myself, when Captain America was away on a trip. Ages of lovely children were 8, 6 and 3. The 8 and 6 year olds were ok, but the 3 year old was having none of it. He refused to take his winter coat off, which was fine. But then he needed to lay down on the kneelers, and as I tried to pick him up with that coat on, I ended up poking him with my thumb. Hard. During a quiet, reflective moment of the Mass, my child had a quiet and reflective screaming fit: "OWW!! MOMMY! You poked me! That really hurt! Why did you poke me?!" I didn't mean to poke him but after his outburst, during which every single person in church was staring at us, I would have gladly poked him on purpose. Hard.

There are many to choose from, and I don't know if I can definitively say which one was the most embarrassing.

Oh, you didn't think I was going to pull out the really good stuff, did you? I have so many ways in which I have embarrassed myself that I could talk for a couple of days without getting to the good stuff. How much time do you have? ;)

A sign, perhaps?

2010-06-04T12:33:00.002-04:00

I've been reading a few blogs lately, here and here and here, that have got me thinking. They've all recently had posts in the last few days about writing: finding time for writing, dreaming of writing, writing about writing.

I'm not always very consistent with writing, but I love to write. Some say I'm pretty good at it. I have, on occasion, gotten paid to do it. I've got stuff to say.

But the thing is, what I have to say, the stories I have to tell, I haven't written down. Yet.

Why? Heh.

It's this little thing I like to call, life. I'm a mom. I have kids who need, demand and deserve my attention. I'm a student. And it's important to me to dedicate myself to my studies. Thankfully they're almost over for the time being, but they're not over yet. I'm a USAF reservist, and my commander expects things from me, and rightly so. He expects me to fulfill my obligations, to show up and do my job (writing!) and all of the other things that come with the uniform. All kinds of extra requirements that would be a whole other post. Maybe someday. Oh, and I also have a house to keep somewhat cleaned up, clothes that need washed and put away, a refrigerator that I must fill with food now and then, and a husband who, heaven knows why, wants to spend time with me and also deserves my attention. Friends I'd like to see and talk to once in a while. You see where I'm going with this.

Hmm. Where did I fit writing in again?

But, I have stuff to say. A story to tell. If God has given me a gift, I'd like to think it is the written word. I have snippets of stories I've written, that are part of the whole. Some pieces are my own experiences and some belong to others. I have a couple of people I trust to read my unvarnished, un-proofread work, raw and emotional, sometimes funny and insightful, but all me, my heart and soul. They tell me what I have so far is good and it's compelling. Keep working at it, this is good, they say. I just need to find the time. But there's more.

I want desperately to tell my story, to see my words in print.

But I'm afraid too. I understand that publishing is a tough, tough business to break into. I am not sure my skin is thick enough yet. I'm afraid of telling this story that means so much to me, and nobody cares.

I'll get over those fears, I know. Even the best authors have been rejected a gazillion times. So, I'll be in good company, if I ever get the thing done and sent off to someone who might possibly want to consider putting my heart and soul between a front cover and a back cover.

I had to get up in the middle of this post to take the dog out, take a kid's temperature who seems to be coming down with something and on way to get the Tylenol, discovered the ice-maker hemorrhaging water onto the kitchen floor. And Captain America is somewhere between LA and Salt Lake City. Where he is of no use to me in this situation ;)

See what I mean about life?

Psyching myself up and psyching myself out

2010-05-26T17:26:00.000-04:00

I went running again today, still not having fully committed to the idea of a full marathon, not out loud anyway. I ran about 3.5 miles, which is not a "long" run for me. It's a good distance, enough to be challenging but not enough to be a long run. But I had a hard time today. It was hot at noon, I hadn't really fueled up very well before I went out and I was a little dehydrated.

All valid reasons why one might struggle a little bit during a run, and all excuses that are covering up the real reasons I'm having a hard time running lately.

I have run half marathons and 10ks before, and I've trained both well and poorly for them. I know how hard it is to keep picking 'em up and putting 'em down after 13 miles. I've finished 13.1 miles feeling great and I've also crawled across the finish line gasping and wheezing, praying for, well, not death, but at least unconsciousness.

But I haven't done it for 26.2 miles. I'm not sure if it's the actual number that is freaking me out, or if it is the knowledge of how tough running half that distance is to start with. But I am a little freaked out, in any case.

There is a race in October in a nearby city, that coincides with a milestone birthday for me (40th!)that I've been contemplating running. I've even said it out loud once or twice in a very tentative hesitant voice, that I might do it, that I'm sitting on the fence about it. How cool would it be to run my first full marathon 4 days before I turn 40? That would totally underscore the fact that I am in much better shape than I was when I was 20, I am way happier than I was when I was 20, I'm wiser, better educated, more comfortable in my own skin, have more money and I look better too. That 40 isn't the beginning of the end, it's just a beginning.

There is a big part of me that knows I can do it. I can train and I can fuel my body properly, I have an iPod with 4 days worth of music and I have a loud cheering section, and I can totally do it.

But I'm scared. I'm scared of 26.2.

So as I was mentally working through some aches and pains today on my measly 3.5 run, I was also thinking in the back of my head, if it's this hard to get through 3.5 today, how in the name of Zeus am I going to be able to talk myself through 26.2? I wasn't sure if I should listen to my body (which was a little achy and stiff today) or power through the pain (a la Jillian Michaels screaming and cursing at myself). Was my achiness and the accompanying desire to stop running an indication of hesitation and lack of commitment (mental psych-out) or was it real physical discomfort that I should back away from before I push myself to a real injury?

This is why I listen to an iPod when I run....it's scary and far too unnecessarily complicated in my head.

Didn't I Feed You Yesterday?

2010-05-13T18:38:00.001-04:00

is absolutely hilarious.

It's a new book by a mom named Laura Bennett, who lives in NYC and has six children. She was on America's Next Top Designer, a reality show that is a competition revolving around designing clothes. I'm slightly lacking in the fashion sense department (ok, more than slightly, Mrs always-wearing-a-tshirt-jeans-or-capris-and-flipflops) and I've never seen the show, but now I want to, just to listen to Laura's life wisdom. I got to borrow the book from my cool blogger-mom friend Marianne.

The book tells it like it is, honest and real and hysterically funny. Those moms who go on Oprah to proclaim how glorious every moment of every day is with three kids under the age of six would probably not find much in it to relate to, but the rest of us do. Moms who need a glass of wine with dinner everynight, moms whose kids learn how to operate the remote and the DVD player well before the age of 5, moms who are lucky to find clean socks for the little people by Friday morning. Notice I didn't say clean matchingsocks. Just clean. Mostly.

I adore my children, I truly do. I love them more than my next breath, and more than my new Barnes & Noble nook (totally awesome, I have to say). But there are some days I would gladly sell them to the first band of traveling gypsies I meet. They challenge me every day and they test my patience (God did not bless me abundantly with the stuff) and they make me grow. Growing hurts sometimes.

But anyway, back to the book. It made me laugh so hard I cried, and it made me nod my head in sympathy. While Laura and her family live a life I can't really comprehend from Smalltown, USA, I can totally understand the balancing act she has to perform. I don't have such gorgeous shoes or an aptly named weekend getaway home ("Dairy Air"...still makes me laugh!), but I do have kids as well as my own life. Moms do not cease to be independent people with interests and desires of their own, once they birth another human being. I may not have a thriving high powered career, but I am a college student, a sometime writer (mostly a blog, papers for school and the occasional freelance article) who wishes she was an actual author of actual books, and a military reservist. I have lots of interests that have little or nothing to do with my kids, or the care and feeding of said kids. And, I'm still a good mom.

I can relate to Laura in another way, being the only woman in a house full of men. I'm not uncomfortable with it, but I do feel sort of outnumbered and outgunned. It's only me and the dog.

I'm digressing again. Marianne, thanks a million for lending me your copy!

Go get your own copy. Seriously. Laughter is the best medicine and we all take ourselves a little too seriously sometimes. If you don't love it, I'll buy your copy.

Judgment, I mean, Mother's Day

2010-05-07T11:42:00.001-04:00

I had this whole long post written out and it was all about politics. Then I decided to deep-six it, because it raised my blood pressure. And I don't want to raise my blood pressure, on Friday, especially the Friday before Mother's Day.

Ahh, Mother's Day.

This day, all by itself, manages to stir some debate, by its very existence.

The first thing I want to say is, I'm giving a big shout-out to all my favorite moms. Grandmas, aunts who act like moms, adoptive moms, sisters who act like moms, stepmoms, mothers-in-law, grandmas raising their grandchildren, step-mothers-in-law...all of us who love and care for the children in our lives, big or small, deserve a great big high five. You also deserve a weekend trip to Vegas but I'm working with what I've got here.

I've read some blog postings and online debates this week about Mother's Day, and it surprises me the things people will argue over and judge others on. One blog posed the seemingly harmless question, "What is the worst Mother's Day gift you ever got?," which led to moms judging each other for "making it all about the gifts." And the implicit judgment in "the only thing that is important to me on Mother's Day is spending time with my family," as if someone who admitted having gotten a gift they didn't like was a bad person. And my personal favorite, "Moms, don't be sucked into the commercial consumerism! Mother's Day isn't about the presents!" All these moms wanted to do was gripe and kvetch a little bit, and they got verbally smacked. If we can't gripe to our people, ie, other moms who've been there, I ask you, who can we gripe to?

Of course Mother's Day isn't about the gifts. No one ever said it was.

But come on. Moms work hard, all the time. Day and night. Whether your work takes you outside of your home or not, whether you have one child or ten, we all work hard to take care of our families. It's nice when someone says, "Thanks Mom," or "Thanks for all you do, honey." And because husbands, ie, men, are not generally known (sorry guys! I know some of you are good at this!) for their ability to articulate their appreciation with pretty words, they do it in the form of gifts, or flowers, or chocolate.

My husband is good at gifts; I'll give credit where it's due. He's also teaching the dudes about the value of a thoughtful gift. Not a crazy expensive gift, not a shiny, wrapped-up-in-a-blue-Tiffany-box kind of gift, not even something that necessarily comes from a store or a salon, but something that the recipient would truly like. For example, Larry, my middle-born man-cub, is not overly affectionate or given to vocal expressions of love. He'd rather just give me a noogie and call it a day. So it really means something when he says "I love you Mom," without me saying it first. It means something that he takes time out of his busy day of Pokemon cards and football to make a card. My oldest (who is not technically mine since I didn't give birth to him but I claim him just the same) is an adult, a married man and an Army officer stationed half the world away. But he still sends a card and calls to say "I love you." And that means the world to me too. Captain America has taught them that.

Sometimes, dads don't choose so wisely. Or they buy something they themselves would like to have, but then pass it off as a gift for their wives. (and you know who you are!) And heaven forbid that a mom actually looks forward to a little appreciation or acknowledgment! Don't we all want to be appreciated? Is that so awful? Can we not see past the actual object to see the gesture, and the feeling behind it?

You don't see dads picking on each other because they look forward to getting some new grill tools, or a new lens for their camera, or some shiny new chrome for their motorcycles when Father's Day rolls around. Let's go easy on each other, moms, aren't we supposed to be on the same side? Aren't we supposed to have each others' backs? I don't know about you, but I depend on my girlfriends, who are moms and sometimes the moms of my kids' friends. I NEED them! All of their views and opinions and feelings and choices are not the same as mine. That's WHY I love them and need them!

And one more thing....a divine shout-out to my own mom, who is no longer with us, but who I love and miss every day. You may not have been here in my life for very long physically, but who you are is who I am. And they say I look like you too. Love you Mama.

Maybe not ready after all

2010-04-30T11:07:00.000-04:00

Last week, I took Curly to what will be his school in the fall. He's my baby, my little mini-me. He is the funniest kid, who says the funniest things. I love getting to spend my afternoons and Fridays with him, while his older brothers, Moe and Larry, are at school. I thought I was looking forward to Curly heading off to the big K, and moving into the next phase of motherhood completely. Stepping into the school years with both feet.

But as I watched him run excitedly down the hall toward the K classroom, with Mrs. K (appropriately enough) while I sat in the meeting room with the other K parents and the principal, it hit me that maybe I'm not quite as ready as I thought I was. Oh, sure, it sounds lovely to have the WHOLE DAY to myself to finally sort out whatever is in those boxes in the back of the basement, to go running whenever I feel like it instead of when I can fit it in, to actually keep up with laundry and grocery shopping, to spend a whole afternoon on the deck reading a book.

But....Curly is my buddy. We hang out. We talk. We watch Veggie Tales and we build Lego space ships and race cars. We go to the mall sometimes for Auntie Anne's pretzels and lunch in the food court, or to Barnes and Noble to share a chocolate chip cookie and play with the trains in the kids' section.

He went in for the assessment that measures his readiness to begin kindergarten. Does he know his phone number and his address? Can he write his name? Does he know the difference between upper case and lower case? Can he hop on one foot and play catch? Does he interact with other kids easily?

He's way ready, Mrs. K assures me. A bright and funny boy. His preschool teachers assure me he's well ready and will have no problem transitioning to all-day school.

I've never been the type of mom to bemoan and mourn the passing of stages. I know some moms who are sad at their children's birthday parties because it all went too fast. I know some moms who, at every milestone, have said something like, "Stop growing up so fast!" And let me be clear, I'm not knocking them or being critical at all. That's just not my style.

I loved the baby years, as hard as they were sometimes, and there is nothing that can ever beat the smell of a newborn fresh out of the bath. I stayed awake to watch them breathe. I marveled watching their eyelashes grow in, and treasured every single gummy grin. I counted every tooth and cheered the first steps. But I didn't cry because they were growing up too fast. I didn't cry putting Moe and Larry onto the bus for the first time. I loved watching them be nervous about it, and do it anyway, that sense of accomplishment they got from just doing it anyway.

I have really been enjoying watching them change from babies who I adored cuddling and feeding and carrying, to boys who can run with me, who I can kick a soccer ball with or throw a football with, and who can reason and have a conversation about why the leaves change color or why our flag is important and why we should show respect. I am so digging watching them turn into the people they are growing up to be. It's pretty amazing.

But still. Curly is my baby.

And while he's raring to go, ready to spread his little wings and fly off to kindergarten with circle time and snack time and weekly Mass and rest time in the afternoons, it's a little harder for me this time.

It's not quite time yet. He hasn't finished preschool and we still have the whole summer to play. But I also have the sense of something coming to an end, of days being numbered.

His readiness is no longer in question.

But, I think mine might be.

Admitting you need help--and getting it

2010-04-19T12:08:00.000-04:00

I may have mentioned before that my son, who is now ten (and whose comment as a three year old inspired the name of my blog :) ) is a unique child. Complicated, in the words of the school psychologist. We had a meeting this morning and it was a really good meeting. It lasted for an hour and a half, and I just felt good when I left.

Moe has been diagnosed with ADHD, and shows significant signs of Asperger's Syndrome, as well as some OCD-type traits, but not enough to warrant an actual clinical diagnosis of either. Aside from the ADHD, about which there is no question, he doesn't really fit neatly into any particular category. He takes medication for the ADHD and up until recently he had been seeing a psychologist on a somewhat regular basis. The problem with the psychologist is that she is on the other side of the city, and has limited after school hours. So, it's a good 45 minutes, one way, an hour wait while he sees her, and 45 minutes on the way home. After school. In traffic. With two other kids. It's been difficult to stay in a regular pattern and over last summer and the beginning of this school year, we've just stopped going.

You know how when you have a cold, you try to take it easy for a couple of days? Maybe you call in sick, or ask your neighbor to walk your kids to the bus stop? Take medicine and try to get a little extra rest? You do that for a day or two (or three) and when you start to feel better, you stop doing those extra things. I've sort of regarded our interventions for Moe in the same way. Things had been going pretty well, and so we kind of slacked off doing the things he needs, in order to cope with his challenges.

Bad idea.

He needs help, and he's going to continue to need help. Just because he's managing to get through his days doesn't mean his needs are any less. I realized that this morning while I was talking to Dr. B. I've sort of harbored this suspicion that maybe I let him watch too much Sesame Street when he was a baby, or that I shouldn't have had those glasses of wine when I was first pregnant with him and didn't know it. Like it's somehow something I did or didn't do, that saddled him with these special needs.

I'm really hard on him sometimes too....I have high expectations of my kids and I don't apologize for that. But sometimes I wonder if I'm too hard, especially on him. At the same time, I don't want to let him off the hook....just because he has ADHD, that doesn't mean he gets a free pass for bad behavior that goes uncorrected.

We had a really bad weekend in terms of unacceptable behavior and I hate to admit it....but I need help. He needs help. It feels a bit like I've failed him, as his mom, that I can't help him on my own, that we need to call in the experts.

We're all so conditioned to disdain needing help and looking or being weak, not able to handle things on our own. I hate saying publicly that sometimes I can't handle my kid's behavior, or that I just don't know what to do to help him. But it is what it is, and we both need a little help. Sometimes I forget how difficult it is for him.

He's a fantastic kid, very bright with an incredibly vivid imagination. He is sweet and caring and affectionate. And, man, does he know his animals. He wants to be a conservationist when he grows up....he told me this in first grade. He doesn't want to get married, because, in his words, it will make more room in his house for the animals he wants to rescue. Just a great kid.

I don't want my frustration with my own inability to help him learn to behave in socially acceptable ways, to squash that beauty in him.

Semantics

2010-04-14T10:13:00.001-04:00

So, it's been a pretty busy couple of weeks.

Lent and Easter are over now. I'm kind of glad to see the end of this Lent, because I fell down and broke the Lenten promises so very many times, and I'm glad to have a break from feeling like a loser. It was a tough Lent in that sense, for me, this year.

The kiddies just went back to school after Spring Break, and Curly was especially unhappy to go back. He was lucky enough to get two weeks this year, since he's in preschool, which had their Spring Break the week before Moe's and Larry's break. And since we had planned to go out of town for that break, he got them both. Lucky him. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth over breakfast. But, everyone's back where they belong....Capt America is back to flying the friendly skies, the kids are at school, and I'm at my computer desk. All's right with the world.

I have had occasion this week to really examine some sides of myself that I'm not so proud of. When I married Capt America, I instantly became of a mother of sorts. The worst sort, the evil stepmother (insert wicked cackle here). It's been a good ride, so far, almost 14 years later. Like any ride, there have been ups and downs. We had a major down recently, with my stepdaughter, as in the kind where she hasn't directly addressed me since January. She's not really talking to her dad either. I really hope and pray that changes. But for the most part, I'd have to say I've been blessed in the bonus kids department.

And just for the record, I really hate using a qualifier....I don't view them differently than the children I carried and gave birth to, why do I need to call them a different name? Kids? Stepkids? No difference to me. Truly. I get that they already have a mom, and it's not me. But I still maintain that I've been an integral part of their lives and participated, however indirectly, in their growing up experience. I have loved them the best way I knew how, and tried to be a positive influence. We met when I was 23 and they were 11 and 9. I have never intentionally tried to take their mom's place, or be anything to them other than a good friend. I'm afraid if I don't use the "step," they will think I'm trying to take over and be their mom, and if I do, I'm distancing myself from them. I've never gotten a straight answer out of either of them as to how they feel about it. I'm pretty sure I know how their mom feels about it, and about me. If I were to end up in the position, through one means or another, of a single mom, and had to share my children with another woman, I'd like to think I'd be grateful if she loved them and was good to them. Maybe I wouldn't though, you never really know how you'll handle something until you're right there in it.

In any case, suffice it to say that there is some tension between the parental figures in my story. Last week was a big occasion in the oldest one's life...a couple of big occasions actually. B received his commission in the US Army, making him a full-fledged officer, a Second Lieutenant. Very big stuff. AND, he got married. Ran off to Vegas to make things legal before his wife (still sounds kind of weird!) must be away for extended period of time. We knew that they were going to do this, and there is a big church wedding in the works, upon her triumphant return. And I thought I was ok with all of it.

As it turns out, I'm not. They had said all along, they only wanted it to be the two of them, no family, they wanted family to come to the big church deal. At the very last minute, they changed their minds. There was no possible way for any of us, whether just Capt America or the whole family, to get out to Vegas on 24 hours notice. They said, don't come, so we made other plans.

But his mom was able to get out there.

And I'm jealous.

Let me be clear, I don't want to be there instead of his mom, heaven knows she's his mother, of course she should be there....I just want to be there too. I wanted to watch them promise forever. Oh, I know, I'll get to see it in church (where it belongs, but I digress...again), but still. That jealous and insecure part of me has really been making a lot of noise over this. In my heart, I know that B's mom is wrong when she says that B and L don't like me very much but they put up with me because she raised polite and considerate kids, and for their dad's sake. In my head, though, there are times that doubt gets a toehold.

B and I have been close. We got off to a rough start, I'll grant, but after that, we have grown close. He calls and texts me, he says "I love you" to me, and he says it first as often as I say it first. He told me before he told Capt America, his dad, that he was getting married.

I'm pretty bummed out that I didn't get to go to his wedding. And frankly, I'm a little put out that he gave us 24 hours notice, and was upset and disappointed we couldn't make it. Especially since he knew we had been planning to come until he told us not to. But, it's over and done, and let's face it, I'm a grown up. I'll get past it. I am already halfway there....I love writing things down, it gets it out of my head and off my chest.

So....am I now a mother-in-law, or a step-mother-in-law? It's a matter of ceramics.

No, semantics. That was supposed to be a joke.

No pun intended, I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but I have a feeling that no matter how I refer to myself in this context, it's going to get under someone's skin. But there is nothing that will keep me from their *real* wedding, in church, and watching them promise each other forever, all over again. And I'll be there in any capacity he wants me to be.

Seth Godin

2010-04-01T11:48:00.003-04:00

I stumbled upon his blog by clicking the link in someone else's blog (I LOVE how the blog world works like that!) and today's post is really, really good.

It's about rationality and irrationality. There is a definite negative connotation to the word "irrational" but Seth explains, very simply, why irrational isn't always bad.

It just really struck a chord with me today, so I'm passing it along.

I'm an irrational person. And I am ok with that :)

UPDATE: Well, I tried to insert a link but if I type out the URL, it doesn't show up as clickable, and if I insert the link using the "link" button, it looks clickable but "isn't valid" according to the pop-up box. So, maybe it's lame, but Seth's blog is on my blog list to the right of the screen. I KNOW that link works.

And now I must take the tutorial that shows me how to do that.

Running

2010-03-30T16:26:00.002-04:00

I love running.

I know, that probably sounds weird.

But I do, I love running. I forgot that for awhile, but I finally, FINALLY, just remembered. And man, did it feel good.

Last fall, I ran a half marathon, my second, and really enjoyed it. I felt great the whole way, which was a substantial improvement over how I felt during my first half marathon, which felt like hell on earth. Why I did it again, I'm not sure, but the second time around was much, much better.

Which got me thinking. Because I am who I am, accomplishing a goal is fantastic. And then, I start looking for the next mountain to climb. So, I ran a couple of half marathons, along with a variety of other, shorter races, improving the experience along the way, and it got me thinking, what's next? And the only logical answer to that question is, a full marathon. The thing I said I'd never do.

Let this be a lesson in saying "never."

Because now I'm seriously considering my first marathon this year. In my head, I've already committed to it, but out loud, not so much yet. I have it on good authority that there is a race every October, held in Columbus, which is just a hop, skip and a jump up the road, and also where I grew up and where most of my family still lives. This marathon is alleged to be a flat course, and a well organized event that makes a really good first marathon. And, I have a milestone birthday coming up in October. What better way to commemorate a big milestone birthday, than trying not to collapse after voluntarily running for 26.2 miles?

Running is a mental game, and my mind can talk me into, or out of, a lot of things. So I'm already psyching myself up and and psyching myself out. Speaking of psych issues, running is wonderful therapy. And I'm really in need of some lately. I recently lost someone who was close to me, suddenly and violently. I've got some dealing to do, and putting miles on expensive shoes with TobyMac and the Newsboys blaring in my ears is a pretty decent start.

So I went out today, in the glorious sunshine, for my first run in about six months. And man, did it feel good.

Coffee, glorious coffee

2010-03-25T10:06:00.000-04:00

I love coffee. Love. It.

I talked to a friend the other day who mentioned that she had given up coffee for Lent, and I recoiled in genuine horror. Seriously?! She's a much better woman (and Catholic) than I. I mean, I get that giving something up for Lent is supposed to be hard, a true sacrifice, but wow. That takes it to another level. I was truly impressed. Please, God, don't ask me to give up coffee next year.

Go ahead and laugh, but one of the my Lenten promises was to give up impulse and emotional shopping. Yeah, it's a crutch for me. Who doesn't love a shiny new lip gloss when you're having a bad day? Or maybe taking 15 extra minutes to cruise the sale rack at Target, just because I deserve a little pick me up? I've worked hard, dangit! I should treat myself to a little something.

Hello, my name is Julie, and I'm a shopaholic. It's been two weeks since my last confession.

Anyway, I digress. I have not been sleeping so well lately, due partly to stress, and due partly to I don't know what, but I can't seem to stay asleep at night. I fall asleep fairly easily, but staying asleep....not so much. So my first inclination was to stop drinking coffee after about 2-3pm. So far, it's not helping a whole lot. I really don't want to take anything medicinal, like Benadryl (always works so well with my kids!) or Tylenol PM or even something like Ambien or Lunesta. But lacking solid sleep at night, I get up each morning to worship at the altar of Mr. Coffee.

I wonder if it matters that, since I've cut back on caffeine later in the day, that I've upped my morning intake by, oh, about three times. I never was very good at math.

A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do, to stay awake and semi-coherent till bedtime, right?

Speechless

2010-03-18T09:05:00.002-04:00

Doesn't happen to me very often. I always have something to say, an opinion, a wisecrack, a comment.

I've logged in several times to post and find that I am.....speechless.

I posted a little while back about the bubble I live in, a small midwestern town that is not entirely sure if it is a suburb of a larger city or still a farming community. Where people know each other and kids grow up together and parents watch out for any child, whether it's their kid or not. It's one of those towns where nothing bad happens.

Except last week, it did.

The bubble was burst, the peace shattered. It's hard to even think the words, let alone type or say them out loud. How do you explain to your kids that they are safe, and you will take care of them, when you yourself don't feel safe? How do you tell a child who just lost his mother, in a horrific manner, that he is loved and protected and safe? Said child is practically one of my children, having been best friends with my oldest man-cub almost since birth, literally. He looked at me with confused eyes and said, "Who's going to be my mom now?" and it ripped my heart out. Because I don't have an answer for him. No matter what happens or who is in and out of his life, she. Was. His. Mother. She's not replaceable. Not to him.

He has many people, family members and friends, surrounding him and loving him and who would do anything to take care of him. He'll be ok. But he doesn't know that yet.

And his little brother, who witnessed things most of us only ever see in movies...I worry about him. He is also surrounded by people who love him and who will do their very best to take care of him. He'll also be ok. But he doesn't know it yet either.

I have come to see that food = love. People have been bringing food, driving by and throwing mountains of food at us. People bring food when something good happens and they bring it when something bad happens. No matter what is going on, you still gotta eat. Food is comfort. Food = love.

No one ever saw it coming. She was a good person with a good heart, and she was doing the best she knew how to do, and she didn't deserve it. She was my friend. I'm sad for the senseless loss. I'm sad that her boys have to finish growing up without her. I'll get angry eventually, I know. But I'm not even angry at him. It scared me, that he'd been to my house, MY HOUSE, a million times. I never even heard him raise his voice.

Mostly I'm just sad. I have people surrounding me who love me and who want to help, somehow. And I'll be ok.

But I don't know that yet.

Resolution

2010-03-07T21:58:00.000-05:00

That hopefully-not-permanently-broken-but-damaged-nonetheless relationship I was mourning a few posts back?

Yeah, broken. Hopefully not forever, but that's not my call.

It's my stepdaughter. I don't know how to fix it. I have done everything I know how to do, and she's chosen to move out and walk away. Not only that, she didn't tell us herself. She asked her mom to email her dad (my hubs) and tell him that she didn't want to live with us anymore, and she'd be coming to get her stuff.....sometime.

She's 25. There are a lot of issues. Mostly the fact that she simply needs to grow up, and she needs to stop being let off the hook. Her parents need to stop enabling childlike behavior and give her a push, out of the nest to go fly. There's more, but that is a lot of it right there.

She's 25 and living in my house (well, she was living in my house), and she played the "You're not my mother" card on me, because I dared to call her on some behavior that I didn't like. Perfectly within my rights to do. But that was almost six weeks ago, and since then, she has yet to acknowledge my efforts to communicate, let alone acknowledge my continued existence.

I think she fully means to cut me out completely. In fact, I believe she already has. What is really killing me, is that by doing that, she's cutting her little brothers out too. And they don't deserve it. They adore her and worship the ground she walks on, and she simply cut them off. Because she's mad at me. They don't understand why she isn't coming back and why she doesn't want to see them.

It's sad, really. I don't like it. At all. But I can't control her, or how she feels, or influence the situation. It's like I already ceased to exist for her. And I don't think she will talk to me, for a long time, if ever. She's really good at the silent treatment. I've let her know I am here and I want to be her friend, six ways to Sunday. But you can't make someone like you, or want to be your friend. I keep learning this, over and over.

Giving it up to God and entrusting her to His care. Can't do much else. Hope with me, though, that she finds what she is looking for. She has a choice, and only she can make it: sit in her room and sulk because life hasn't turned out quite like she'd hoped so far, or she can play the hand she's got. It's kind of the same choice we all have, when you think about it.

I hope she decides to live her life instead of letting life happen to her. Peace be with you, L.

Does denomination matter?

2010-03-01T13:52:00.000-05:00

I'm Catholic. I'll just start with that. I wasn't raised in the faith but I converted in my teen years.

I live in this wonderful little bubble of a small mid-western town, where I'm friends with the parents of my kids' friends, and for the most part we all go to the same church and school. Yeah, school and church are the same building....not necessarily the same thing, but the same building. We all play sports, celebrate baptisms and birthdays, do room mom duties, take Communion and watch our kids take their First Communion in the same place, with roughly the same group of people. It's a wonderful, safe, happy, little bubble we live in. I like my bubble. What's not to love? A tight-knit community of believers who you know will look out for your children when you aren't there? Who will run your kid to soccer practice or who will come and tell you when your kid is the instigator of bad language that is being used on the playground at recess? I don't particularly care for Hillary Clinton, but this is my "village."

Which is why it's so strange to me, to run across people who don't like my bubble. Or, more specifically, who don't like my faith. And say so.

It's Lent. Which means fasting and giving things up, or adding in extra prayer time or service to the needy in some way, all in an effort to prepare our hearts for the resurrection of Christ. His sacrifice was so much greater than any that we could ever give, but this is our human way of walking with Him, during this time. It's the 40 days He spent in the desert, being tempted by Satan and fasting. So it seems appropriate that we should spend 40 days being tempted by worldly desires and fasting, in our effort to walk with Him, yes?

I am part of an online community of believers, of which Catholic believers make up a teenytiny percentage, judging from the tone and the content of other users' comments. So the question was posed today, "What are your thoughts on taking the month of March for fasting from something or giving something up to prepare our hearts for Christ's resurrection?" Most people mentioned things they wanted to give up or things they wanted to change in their lives. But one woman wrote "I don't know why people only think about this at Easter. We should always be preparing our hearts and letting Christ shine through us. It almost sounds like human traditions from the catholic church (she didn't capitalize, but I would have). I'm not saying we shouldn't do these things, but it shouldn't just be reserved just for Easter time."

"Human" traditions? Really, when you get down to it, isn't all church tradition "human" tradition? Yes, it's divinely inspired, but we're all human, aren't we? Even the Pope is a human. My parish priest, who is my spiritual authority and who I take my questions to, is a human. The Bible is divinely inspired but it's written by humans. In fact, I think I heard something in the news a few months ago that there was some movement to try to re-write the Bible to bring it more in line with current times!

Is it just me or is there a kind of negative tone to the woman's post? It really bothered me! I responded to her post with my best diplomacy, and drew the connection to Jesus' days in the desert (which I'm sure she knows about) and how the time of Lent is special and deserving of extra attention, but yes, of course we should always be striving to be more like Jesus. I ended with "There are many, many more things that bind us together than separate us, as Christians."

I've been learning a lot about Lent and about my faith this year, and I am more and more convinced that I'm home. Not being raised in the Catholic faith, and learning Church teachings as a teen and an adult, I've had a lot of trouble getting my head around the whole "one true faith" thing. That sounds as if Heaven is only going to be populated with Catholics, and I just don't know about that. But Catholicism is the one true faith, in the sense that all the other Christian denominations have grown out of it. Have they all gone astray? Are all the Methodists (or Lutherans, or Baptists, or Assemblies of God or Russian Orthodox or...) going to Hell? That I can't say. I do know that no denomination can throw stones at another for sins committed; we've all got poster children for bad behavior. That's not about denomination, that's about human-ness, and making mistakes.

Why must we draw those lines? Are we all worshipping different Gods? Doesn't He love us all?

She didn't come out and say, "Ooooh you're Catholic! A pox on you!" But it sure sounded like she was passing judgment on the Church, and that really didn't sit right with me. I don't want to go on a "nondenominational" Christian website and start arguing doctrine and dogma but I don't want to see my church criticized for its traditions either, especially when her church is a descendant of my church.

Thoughts? Opinions? Anyone care to help me work through this, or see it from another perspective?

A fresh perspective

2010-02-22T23:31:00.000-05:00

I think I'm just about done feeling sorry for myself over the hopefully-not-permanently-broken-but-damaged-nonetheless relationship I was talking about a few days ago. I guess I just needed to get it all out, and now I'm pretty much feeling even-keeled, and "c'est la vie" and even kind of grown-up about it. This poor girl has a lot of issues that have nothing to do with me and while I can support her and pray for her and leave the door open and the light on for her, she is really the only one who can choose to knock. So I feel content in the knowledge that I have done everything I can, and the rest is up to....not me. The potential loss of the relationship is still sad, but it's not something I control. Let go and let God.

Back to my regularly scheduled, school-age-boy, not-enough-time-in-the-day, my-husband-is-gone-again-driven chaos.

Today was a day about keeping things in perspective. I was feeling kind of frazzled and rushed most of the day, because as usual, I had tried to cram too many things into too short a time period. I had a meeting at work at the somewhat local military base (45 minute drive, one way). Then Curly had a birthday party to go to this afternoon, for which I had neglected to buy a gift. Then pick up Moe and Larry at school, get their homework done and hustle them to a friend's house who was kind enough to watch them for me while I went to school. Oh yeah....read two chapters of one book and nine of another, and write a coherent paper. Which I of course had had plenty of time to do, but kept putting off.

I sent the hubster to the store to get a pink and princess-y gift for the birthday girl....he's so good at that! He picked out the perfect thing and was (rightfully) very pleased with himself. I went to my meeting and flew by the seat of my pants for the rest of the day, getting the paper written and the chapters at least skimmed. I really should have finished college when the boys were younger. Or when the last one goes off to all-day school. Or some other, more convenient time.

While I was at my meeting with my friend and co-worker Chris, I was whining just a little bit about how hectic my weekend had been and how hectic the week was going to be with Hubster gone from last Thursday till Wednesday night. Wah. Poor me. A a total of seven days, with one of those nights spent at home (he came home Sunday and left again on Monday). Chris told me about his flying schedule for March, which includes sixteen days straight, away from home.

Hmm. Well. 7 days isn't sounding so bad.

There are times that his schedule...well, it just sucks. No other way to put it. And as the dudes are getting older and into more stuff, it gets harder to get them all to their activities when it's just me. But there are loads of other times when his schedule rocks. Like when he gets to go in Curly's preschool class and be the "parent reader" for the week. Or when he gets up and puts my coffee on, and starts getting the dudes moving so I can sleep in for an extra half-hour (OK, an extra hour). Or when he picks up Curly from school mid-day and takes him out for a Daddy and little dude lunch and playdate, partly because he wants to and partly because I need a quiet house to write an article or a paper for school. When he works, he goes away for a few days at a time. But when he's off, he's home and no one from the office is calling, and he doesn't bring any work home, ever. It's a little crazy but it's ours.

In any case, I've hit my mental reset button, and I've got a fresh perspective on my troubled relationship, on M's crazy work schedule, and life is good.

Got to remember to count those blessings. As I was walking through the most frustrating parts of my day, I thanked God for them, because having frustrating moments is better than having no moments, and I repeated to myself "attitude of gratitude." So maybe a few times, it was through gritted teeth, since I gave up yelling for Lent, but it's progress. I must have looked like a crazy woman, walking through the parking garage at school talking to myself, but I felt better.

It hurts

2010-02-12T20:08:00.000-05:00

to try so hard to have a relationship with someone who so obviously does not want to have one.

I've been trying very hard to have a relationship with someone....trying to be there and be helpful....trying to do the right thing.....trying to just be a friend to a particular person. Who clearly does not want it.

I've kept trying because I thought it was the right thing to do, for myself, for that person and for other people in my life. I've kept trying because that is what you do when you love someone. You never regret trying, but you might very well regret it if you don't.

But I think I'm at the point where I have to acknowledge that this person is a grown-up capable of making their own decisions, and they choose....not me. That really hurts.

But saying it out loud, really getting it, is a relief, in a way. Kind of like ripping the band-aid off. I don't know what else I could possibly have done to make things work, and now I'm going to....stop trying. The door will always be open, but they're going to have to come knocking.

You know why I keep banging my head against a brick wall? Because it feels good when I stop.

He never ceases to amaze me

2010-02-10T13:18:00.000-05:00

Funny thing how God works.

Our furnace went out sometime during the night. I didn't notice, not right away, because I have flannel sheets that I was wrapped up in. Last night I noticed a faint burny smell in the bedroom, but Matt deduced that he had replaced the light bulb in the ceiling fan fixture with the wrong bulb, turned it off and the smell went away. Mystery solved.

This morning, he came in to get the space heater, as I was waking up. He said, "The furnace is out." I said, "WHAT?" He said, "The furnace is out." I said, "WHAT?" We did this a couple more times. I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. The furnace CAN'T go out; we're in the middle of a big storm. Surely the furnace is not that cruel.

But the AirTron rescue guy was already on his way. Long story short, the blower motor crashed. Big time. Hard broke. To the tune of $900. (please, feel free to click the ads on the sidebar).

Here's the funny part. The oldest offspring, who is away at Army Officer Candidate School, called and said that the quickie Vegas wedding he's been planning (there is a whole story there....there is going to be a proper wedding later, after the deployment neither of them is willing go through unmarried) is turning into a circus, with too many people, so they were thinking of having it just be the two of them, rather than a group of family that keeps growing and growing. We had been planning on going, all of us. Tickets were going be expensive but I wouldn't miss even the quickie wedding before the real wedding for the world. When he called, he said, "You know, maybe the wedding should just be me and the girl. I hate to say it but maybe it's best if everyone just waits till the big wedding later on."

Funny how we saved about $1500 on airline tickets just before we needed to spend $900 on the furnace.

Just sayin.

I think I'm glad....

2010-02-09T23:44:00.000-05:00

to be back from my vacation. I went with my very good friend on a cruise last week. Not just any cruise, but the K-LOVE Friends and Family cruise.

If you don't know, K-LOVE is a radio station that plays contemporary Christian music. Sounds remarkably like pop or rock music, only with a Christian message. They have this cruise every year, and invite several bands to play on the ship. So, the cruise is basically a floating week-long concert. We went to Coco Cay, Royal Caribbean's private island, and Nassau. Wonderful, relaxing trip. Good company, great music, met some new friends, and a great surprise....I love the show The Biggest Loser. Sean Algaier, from Season 8, was on the boat too, and he led sunrise workouts every day. I HATE getting up early. But I did, just to work out with him. Plus it just felt good to work out. Chris Tomlin, Louie Giglio (who is about one of the best speakers I've ever heard), the (new) Newsboys, Tenth Avenue North, MercyMe, Downhere, 33 Miles, Fireflight, Big Daddy Weave.....man, it just rocked.

So, a successful vacation. Sun, sand, music, sleep.

And snow. We came home to snow. Lots of it.

But on the upside, they offered a "liberal reschedule" for UTA. I was supposed to get in Friday night and then go to work Saturday morning, which would have been brutal, but a small price to pay. Nice bonus that I could reschedule my drill weekend, with no repercussions. Woot!

This week has mostly been about the snow. Monday was a pretty normal day, but today was a snow day, and tomorrow has already been called. We don't have it nearly as bad as they do further east, we don't have feet and feet of snow, but we've got enough. Moe, Larry and Curly were thrilled to get to have a Wii tournament today (we have a rule about video games on school days)and Larry and Curly spent most of the afternoon outside "helping" Dad fix the snow blower. Till they were frozen. And still got mad when it was time to come in.

So....what to do tomorrow? Guess we'll do more of the same. I'm really starting to notice the difference when they'd rather play and hang out with their friends than hang out with me. I guess I thought I'd have a little more time before that became my reality. I know they still like hanging out with Mom and Dad, but I was really looking forward to just doing stuff together today....playing video games, watching a movie in a pile on the family room floor, reading, stuff like that. But the doorbell rang in the late morning, and Larry's friend came over, and that was that.

I was so glad to get home. I loved my trip...I am usually juggling a fair amount of things, between the kids and their school/activities, my school and work, and just life in general. It's not that I never get time to myself or the opportunity to do something for myself, but I really miss traveling sometimes. And even when I'm "supposed" to be taking it easy at home, there is always something that captures my attention, that I feel like I should be doing (like folding laundry) so that it makes it harder to completely detach, at home. That's one of my things with my darling husband....sometimes I'm insanely jealous of how he gets to pack a suitcase several times each month and just take off. I used to do that. Before the kids, of course. And I don't think I'd want to do it as much as he does, anymore. But just once in a while, I want to. Just go away for a couple days.

So, yeah, loved the trip. Loved calling him, and saying, "Oh I just checked into my hotel room....ooohhhh, yeah, it's a nice room, look at that view!" Even though the view was a half-empty parking lot. It was just nice to have a turn at that. But getting back....was so much sweeter than being away. There really is nothing like the pure and unvarnished adoration of a child. A kid who flings himself at you, full-bore, screaming at the top of his lungs, "MOM! I MISSED YOU! I"M SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK!"

Not much can top that. In fact, I can't think of a single thing. Sometimes I feel like I should be doing so much more, with my time, with my life. And when I look at my kids, I wonder, what else could I possibly do that would mean more? Really?

Now, if I could just find some way to make the laundry disappear.....

It's been a rough day

2010-01-28T12:49:00.000-05:00

And it's only 12:30. I've got the whole rest of it to go.

Started out bad when kids again dragged their feet til Screaming Mom rose to the surface. I dig the whole ScreamFree thing, but some days it just ain't happening around here. They piddle around and drag their feet until we have to leave in 10 minutes and then it's an EMERGENCY. But MOM! I haven't eaten breakfast! I'm not DRESSED!

Um, yeah. I noticed that.

But these are not kids who are getting ready for their first day of school, and maybe they're not familiar with the routine yet.

No sooner did I get home from dropping all the kids, dressed and fed, off at school, than the older boys' school called and the oldest dude had thrown up. Can I please come get him?

So off I go, in the middle of a conversation with a really good friend, who I called for a verbal hug. In addition to the lateness issue, there has been some other drama going on round here this week, in relation to the adult child who has been living with us. 'Nother story for another day. Suffice it to say, I was feeling really crappy this morning. Bad parent, bad person, deserving of all that is evil in this world. But her verbal hug was just what I needed.

He and I sit on the couch and watch cartoons for a while, and he is sick a couple more times. The dog needs to go out, so I put her on her tie-out in the backyard, thinking she could use a little play time and the ground is frozen (so I thought) so she wont' be too dirty from digging. When it's time to pick up the little dude from school, I leave Moe on the couch under a warm blanket and go get the dog.

Covered. In. Frozen. Mud.

How did she DO that? Never mind, it doesn't matter, because the end result is still that I need to clean her up. Ugh.

Tie her in the garage, go and get the little guy. Must run warm water in the tub so she can be readmitted to the interior of the house. Walk in the door to run bath, and Moe is hunched over the garbage can in the family room, getting sick again and crying, "Thank God you're back Mom!"

Dog acts as though bath is Chinese water torture and glares at me with death in her eyes the whole bath. Tries to jump out three or four times. Finally stare her down and get her to cooperate, and Moe comes upstairs naked from the waist down, his stomach bug having moved in a different direction, that the poor child was unprepared for. I tell him to toss his dirty clothes into the laundry room and try to get him in the shower. Which he hates. Give up and settle for bullying the dog.

Dry dog off, get her to see things from my point of view, and go back downstairs. Now must find and fix lunch for Curly, who is not sick to his stomach. Then, do the pile of laundry that has magically appeared, find time to work out and get the endorphin rush that will make all of this go away, and do homework so that I can relax and enjoy my vacation next week.

Why do these things happen the day that Dad leaves?

On the bright side, I did get a new laptop this week. My last one died suddenly and my wonderful tech geek husband found a great price on a groovy MacBook. I think the Apple/Mac transition is complete.

I hate to admit it but

I'm an Apple geek.

Shh. Don't tell anyone.

I miss

2010-01-25T09:22:00.000-05:00

Having a best best friend. Like in junior high. Someone you could call 14 times in one day and they wouldn't get tired of you. OK, maybe not 14 times every day.

But still.

Oh, I have tons of acquaintances. People that, if I call them or see them at church or school, seem genuinely pleased to hear from me or see me. But our phone is not exactly ringing off the hook here at home. We're not turning back s flood of invitations.

And I'm just feeling sorry for myself today, for some reason. I'm a social person, I like to be busy doing things, seeing people, out and about. And that hasn't been happening much lately and it's bothering me. For some reason.

Anyway.

On another note, I had drill this past weekend and I heard something that has really given me something to think about. I thought I knew where I was going with this history degree, and that I loved my job in the reserve as a historian. I do love what I do, in theory at least. I love history and I love the task of documenting things and writing things down so that people will know what we did, what we accomplished. That is so important!

But at the same time, it sure doesn't feel like anyone gives a crap about my work. Unless the history is late...then when the commander and the MAJCOM is breathing down our necks, yeah. But otherwise, no one seems to care all that much. And, I am in a position to never get promoted again.

The way manning works in my unit, there is one historian authorized in my office. That would be Cathy. And she'd have to leave and vacate the position for me to slide into it and be promotable. It's a MSgt slot and she's a SMSgt while I am a lowly TSgt. I get it. But I'm what is called an overage, and as such, I'm an extra person. Extra people should quit complaining and be glad they have a job. It can be pulled out from under you at any time. In theory, anyway. There have been people in overage slots for years and years and they never get pulled. But, it could happen. Extra people also can't get promoted. Even if they deserve it. I get that about being an overage. I've pissed and moaned about it often enough, I get it. If I love what I do, it shouldn't matter to me about what rank I hold. Right?

Except that it does.

So anyway, at Commanders' Call yesterday, the recruiters got up to give a presentation, and I would never have thought of myself as recruiter material, and maybe I'm not, but there are some really good things about it: it's an AGR tour (basically, it's active duty) for 4 years (a FULL-TIME job!), there's a position that covers the area where I live so I could possibly work right here in town, AND the best part....I could do four years, retire at the end of those four years, and get an active duty retirement. That's huge. I would start collecting my retirement immediately instead of waiting until I'm 60.

I've got a call in to the guy here in town to find out more.

Why is that stripe all of a sudden so important to me? Why am I allowing that stripe to define the character of my service, the worth of my almost 20 years in uniform? I don't know, but it sure feels like it matters a lot right now.

Good news

2010-01-20T17:09:00.000-05:00

I'm happy and relieved that Scott Brown won in Massachusetts last night. No one, but no one could have predicted this a month ago.

In the news, all the pundits and analysts are saying that it's a referendum on Barack Obama, and his administration, or a referendum on health care. I'm not so sure.

In my humble opinion, I don't think it's so much about President Obama (although I'm sure there's a segment of the voters who would disagree and say that it was very much about him) but overall, I think people are sick and tired of the president telling them how it's going to be, and not letting them express their opinions. People were sick of George Bush shoving his foreign policy down our throats whether we liked it or not, and now people are tired of Barack Obama doing that very same thing. He has said over and over, in many different ways, that come hell or high water, there WILL be a health care bill passed. Nancy Pelosi has said the same thing. Weren't they listening last summer, when all the representatives and senators came home and held all those town hall meetings? People don't want reform like this.

And before anyone gets their dander up and assumes that I am some heartless, soulless pig of a Republican who wants to see people die for lack of health care, let me disabuse you of that notion. It's not that I object to health care. I object to the way they're going about it. First of all, health care in and of itself IS NOT A RIGHT. Let me be clear.

IT.IS.NOT.A.RIGHT.

It is a commodity, which you can choose to purchase, or not. Now, I will agree that ACCESS to that commodity should be equal. I can get onboard with that. Everyone ought to be able to buy good, reasonably priced health care insurance for themselves and their families. Beyond that, get the government the hell out of my health care decision. Don't force me to buy it, or limit my options.

If politicians are serious about real health care reform, they need to have an open discussion about tort reform. Gajillion dollar settlements for hangnails are a huge part of how we got to this place, where premiums are astronomically high. Yes, I'm exaggerating to make a point. But hear me out. An honest mistake by your doctor should not entitle you to a million-dollar payout. When mistakes are made, and they will be, everyone runs straight to the lawyer. In some cases, I can see this...if the mistake that the doctor makes is serious enough to create more health problems that will cost more money, then absolutely, reparations have to be made. A patient can't be expected to suck up the costs incurred by a doctor's mistake.

HOWEVER, comma, not every mistake rises to that level. I read a story about a woman who won a multi million dollar payout from an insurance company, because her doctor misdiagnosed her with breast cancer. She chose to have both of her breasts removed as a preventive measure. Then they discovered that the doctor was wrong, so she sued him for millions, and won. Tell me how having $73 million dollars makes up for that mistake. Really? The doctor (or the insurance company) can pay for reconstructive surgery, sure. But what purpose does it serve to bankrupt him? And what about the fallout, that affects others? Like making premiums go sky high. Now everyone has to pay for that award. And it's like a ripple effect...a couple of crazy-high awards like that, and the company has to raise premiums to stay in business.

My OBGYN told me, when I was preparing to download my third, that he was considering quitting delivering babies, because he just couldn't afford malpractice insurance. His malpractice premiums went up 300% in one year. He also told me that an OBGYN can be sued anytime until the child is 18, and that OBGYNs can expect to be sued an average of three times during his/her career, whether the suit is warranted or not. Even if the suit is frivolous, it still costs money to settle it and make it go away. Where do you think the money comes from? Not to mention, if a doctor gets sued, it makes people leery of going to him....they think he's not a good doctor.

Another thing they'd bring up if they were serious about reform is allowing consumers to shop and buy insurance across state lines. Let the companies compete for business, and costs will go down. That's simple Econ 101.

Another thing I object to, is lifting the restrictions on using federal money to fund abortions for poor women. And if there were to be a public health care option that covered abortion, we'd all pay for them. I object to that with all of my being. Abortion is legal in this country. OK. But if that is your choice, YOU pay for it. I don't want any part of anyone's abortion, not paying for it, not supporting it, not encouraging or advocating it.

The health care debacle has enough problems to keep Congress busy for years. You're not going to please all of the people, all of the time. THAT, my friends, is what Scott Brown's victory last night is all about. A bunch of people who are NOT PLEASED. And when they decide to get together and do something about it, look out, Washington. Stop being so arrogant as to assume you know what's best. Listen to the people, your constituents...you know, the people you WORK FOR. The people who HIRED YOU to do a job. That old line made famous by moms everywhere...I brought you into this world, I can take you right back out, holds true here.

It will be very interesting indeed to see how things will play out in Washington now that the Democrats have lost their trump card, the filibuster-proof majority. Now you're going to have to play nice with the Republicans. You can't just ram legislation through, without consulting or considering the other half of the country.

ahem. I'll be putting my soapbox away now.

No magic wand

2010-01-19T19:56:00.000-05:00

The Geeks over at Geek Squad delivered some bad news this morning. Or good news, depending on how one chooses to look at it. My laptop COULD cost anywhere from $50-$350 to fix. And it will cost almost $100 just to send it out for repair, since they don't do power supply issues in the store. And if it's a motherboard issue, the cost is going to go up again. So, no magic wand, no cheap fix.

If I want a working laptop, I'm apparently going to have to buy one. The question is, how many computers are really necessary in one house? Do I really NEED a laptop? Not really. Oh sure, it's really nice to have one. But can I justify the purchase price, knowing full well I don't NEED it? Hmmm.

But if one wanted to be an optimist and look at the silver lining, it's a chance to buy a shiny new toy :) And I like shiny new toys as much as the next girl.

I'm hoping for some good news out of Massachusetts tonight. I'm surprised by how on-pins-and-needles I am. I don't live anywhere near Massachusetts and I only know 1 person who lives there. But man, I'm worked up. I just don't know how much more of Barack Obama and his far-left agenda this country can take before we just crack. I mean, absolutely running off the edge of a cliff. I hope that Scott Brown wins and can slow the freight train down. Michelle Obama may be proud of her country for the first time, but I'll tell you what....I'm SCARED of my country, and for my country, for the first time.

The polls close in three minutes...I'm off to watch the returns.

Blue Monday

2010-01-18T21:51:00.000-05:00

I read on my friend Martin's Facebook page that today is supposedly called "Blue Monday." I don't think I've ever heard of this, except in a song lyric, but it sure seems to fit. According the wisdom of Facebook surfers, it's called Blue Monday, because the holidays are over, most of the New Year's resolution are broken (see?! THIS is why I don't make them! HATE feeling like a failure!) and some stuff like that, that I don't remember. Just facing the rest of winter with nothing else to look forward to.

I'm not blue because the holidays are over. I don't think so. I'm not blue because of broken resolutions. Remember? I don't make resolutions.

But still....I'm blue. And I'm not sure why. I've been feeling a major funk for several days now, and I can't put my finger on the cause. The spousal unit is home, so it's not that I'm missing him or feeling overly stressed with kid duties. The kids are perfectly normal, it's not them. I had a break from school today (thank you Martin Luther King, Jr! For a lot more than a day off but that's another story for another day) so I don't think it's school. A big milestone birthday is coming up this year but not for a long time. That can't be it.

I think I have a deadline this week but I haven't heard from my editor despite sending a couple of emails, so.....not quite sure how to handle that. I'll submit the story and hope for the best, I guess.

I guess maybe it is just the rest of winter with not much to look forward to. I'm tired of school in general, and not feeling excited and motivated about it, which I usually am. I'm just tired of working at things, and not feeling like I have a dang thing to show for it.

Lessons in patience and perseverance. I am forever praying for patience. Well, I've found that when I do that, God usually gives me opportunities to practice being patient, and hone those skills. That wasn't quite what I was hoping for, but you know, it's like I tell my kids, you get what you get and you don't throw a fit. Maybe I'm not praying for the right thing...maybe I need to pray for a new outlook, a new attitude. I mean, really, when I count my blessings, there are a lot of them. A lot.

So I'll have a glass of wine, and slog through a few more chapters of Machiavelli for my history class. I've stuck it out this long, what's four and a half more quarters?

Oh, and my laptop died tonight. Just went black. Hoping the Geek Squad can wave a magic wand and make it all better.

The mom I am

2010-01-07T12:09:00.001-05:00

I had the strangest train of thought today. I was in the kitchen doing the dishes and musing over the conversations that went on this morning. It's a snow day and we've been up watching the weather and school closing list since pretty early, so there've been several conversations to muse over.

My oldest spud is not one to try new things. Or new foods. Or new ways of eating old foods. Or anything new in general. He's recently been living on the edge by eating his breakfast cereal with a spoon and milk, rather than eating it dry, with his hands, and drinking milk separately. This is a departure for him, and not a small one. I told him after breakfast today, that I was proud of him for trying a new way of eating his cereal, since I knew that it was hard for him to try new things. It was funny, he lit up like a Christmas tree. Just from the few simple words I said. That I was proud of him, and that I understood something about him.

As I was doing the dishes, I don't know why I had this thought, but it occurred to me that in March it will be 5 years that my dad has been gone. He died when the littlest spud was a tiny baby and I was still on meds for postpartum depression. My father, for better or for worse, is the most significant influence on my parenting. My sister runs a very close second. But they are polar opposites. My sister taught me how to love unconditionally and without limits, and how to have fun with my kids. My dad, well, let's just leave it with, he taught me what not to do, how not to be. And in that bass-ackwards way, he had a big role in shaping the mom I am. The mom who tells her kid that she's proud of him over something as silly as how he eats his cereal.

My sister has always told me, love them beyond reason, and praise them to the skies when they've earned it, but don't be afraid to scold and even yell when they've earned that. Speak to them with respect, apologize to them when you screw up, and let them know you understand who they are. And love them. Then love them some more. My dad actually, literally, rolled his eyes at me one day when I told him that some days all I did was sit on the couch with my first newborn baby, and hold him, because I was so in awe of him, and I didn't want to put him down.

I am by no means an expert, or a perfect mom who handles every situation well. I yell far more than I would like to admit, and I get impatient far more than I wish I did. I can be sarcastic, yes, even to an almost-ten-year-old, and sometimes I don't listen as well as I expect them to.

But I also tell them I'm proud of them. And I tell them I love them, many times each day. I hope, at the end of the day, it all balances out.

New Year, old questions

2010-01-03T10:28:00.001-05:00

It's a new year, a new decade. In some ways, it's like hitting the reset button. Or Ctrl-Alt-Delete, if you prefer. I like New Year's....I don't make resolutions, as I may have mentioned before. They usually just make me feel like I've failed, and I hate that feeling. Instead I recommit to doing the same things I always try to do: continue making my faith and my family my top priorities, improving my relationship with God and seeking His counsel in matters great and small, taking better care of my family and myself than I did last year, and being a better person today than I was yesterday.

I do have a couple of specific things I'm mulling right now though, but I don't think you can call them resolutions. I'm considering training for a full marathon this year. And I'm in the process of making what could be a life-changing career decision. On the first one, I need to decide rather quickly so I can begin training. I run regularly, but marathon training is a bit different. On the second, I have some time to think about it. That's where the old questions come in.

I'm coming to a crossroads with the military, and I'm considering a new career path that does not include a uniform. In September of 2011, I will have served 20 honorable years and will then be eligible to retire. I've always thought I'd stick around much longer than that, maybe even long enough that they'd have to kick me out for being too old. Also in September of 2011, I will have graduated from college with a brand new, shiny undergrad degree, that I will presumably want to use. I could go the "safe" route and stick with the familiar: stay in the military and be a reserve bum, working far more regularly and predictably for my unit until I get tired of it and "it's not fun anymore." That's what people start saying when they are getting short, and they're ready to hang it up. Ask anyone who's retired from the reserve how they knew it was time, and they will tell you, "It stopped being fun." Not many people count on the reserve as their fulltime bread and butter, unless they are a reserve bum. And even in that case, most of the time, you only stay while it's fun, unless you really have no other choice.

Or I could retire, take the LSAT and apply to law school. Ever since I can remember seriously thinking about what I wanted to do when I grew up, I've always dreamed of being a lawyer. I like the idea of fairness and justice, and everyone is equal in the eyes of the law. Not that you'd know it by looking around or reading the news, but still, the idea is good.

I'm certain the way will be made clear for me when it's time to really decide and start acting on the decision. But still, here I sit, chewing on it and considering and thinking and praying. New year, old questions. What do I do? Which way to go? Can I really do that? Will my family suffer? Am I smart enough? How will we pay for it? (That one is covered, I think, by the new GI Bill, but it's a legitimate question nonetheless)

I don't know if I'd be a good lawyer. I'm too wishy-washy and can't make a decision.

The other big question I wrestle with, and have wrestled with for a lot of years now is this: who am I, and what makes me unique or special, without the uniform? It's a huge part of how I've defined myself for a lot of years. I went through a similar identity crisis when I quit flying and quit wearing a flight suit to work. I switched to BDU's and instantly became invisible. That has been a tough struggle, and even now, 10 years after my last sortie as a loadmaster, I still feel a twinge when I see girls in flight suits, especially if they are loading airplanes. The fact remains that I did what was best for my family. I wouldn't make a different decision if I had it to do over again. But it was really, really hard.

So giving up the uniform entirely is going to be a difficult transition. One I'm not sure I'm ready to make. So, I'm kinda glad I've got another year or so to sit on it, and think about it, and pray about it, and then wait and see what life looks like in a year.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

2009-12-28T17:33:00.000-05:00

It's a couple of days after Christmas. The dudes are stuffed full of various partially hydrogenated oils and all manner of other kinds of junk food, spoiled rotten by various family members who spend too much on them, and sleep deprived. I'm exhausted and coming down with....something, and Matt is in Spokane. Another successful Christmas break.

We had a great time in the chaos of the holidays. We got to see B for a short time while he was home on leave (another story for another day) and we spent Christmas Eve at the in-laws' house with 62 of our nearest and dearest. And that's just HIS family. We opened our gifts at home and went to Columbus to hang out with my family and spent the weekend. Well, the dudes and I did, because Matt had to go to work. First stop? Bermuda. Is it wrong that I took a kind of evil pleasure in the fact that it was "too cold" to go to the beach? (60 degrees) Or that it was Boxing Day and nothing was open?

ANYWAY. Had a great time with friends and family, and so glad to be back home cleaning up and doing laundry. No big plans for the next couple of days, just hang out and decompress.

We actually still have the rest of the week to go, Christmas Break is not over yet. And neither is the Christmas season. Not really. We still celebrate for two more weeks, until Epiphany. It's not over just because He was born. That's only the beginning.

It started snowing last night and has continued, off and on today. It looks so pretty, so....Christmasy. So I'm leaving my Christmas tree and decorations up for a while longer, to remember that it isn't over yet. And I don't think I want it to be over. The crazy hustlebustle, yes, I'm ready for that to be over. But taking time to remember and celebrate the birth of our Savior....that's pretty cool too.

That's odd

2009-12-14T22:21:00.002-05:00

I just cruised by to re-read yesterday's post, and happened to notice ALL of my ads, are for spyware to catch a cheating spouse, or a lawyer to help you unload a cheating spouse, or a life coach to help you forgive a cheating spouse. I am not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I noticed a pattern there....jumped right out at me.

Just thought it was a bit odd.

That is all.

There's a lesson here somewhere

2009-12-13T22:20:00.002-05:00

Today was supposed to be a low-key, quiet, even lazy day. All I had on the agenda was teaching my preschool PSR class at church at 10:00. My friend came over to watch the dudes for me, and brought her dudes...all the dudes are great pals. Piece of cake.

So I taught my class, stopped for milk and a spur-of-the-moment video rental, and came home. All excited for my lazy afternoon of sweatpants, finishing the Christmas tree, and rented movies. I told the kids that we weren't going anywhere for the rest of the day and we were going to be L-A-Z-Y. And the oldest mutt looked at me with sad eyes and said, "So we're not going to the concert tonight?"

Concert?

Oh yeah! Christmas in Warren County! Where the St F children's choir (of which oldest mutt is a member) is singing! Tonight!

There went my lazy afternoon. Now we had to rush to finish lunch, the tree, showers, dinner, and getting dressed up in concert attire. Meaning a tie for him. He doesn't like ties. And the poor guy looked like he was wearing his dad's tie...I was afraid it was too long on him, although more than one of my friends assured me he looked very handsome.

In the midst of the rushing, I went down to the basement to put away the totes that we keep the Christmas stuff in, and noticed a lot of small colorful fibers in the carpet, that are not supposed to be there. Not part of the pattern. It's beige carpet, there is no pattern. I asked the dudes what it was, and it was apparently all that was left of my silly sombrero hat, that oldest dude and his friend had decided to shred because it was "part of their game." Shredded. An. Item. That. Did. Not. Belong. To. Them.

I don't care about the sombrero....got it at a party a year or so ago, and didn't throw it away. The kids found it and wanted to play with it, so it was in the basement. I DO care that they were perfectly ok with destroying something that did not belong to them, and I DO care about the giant mess they made, and didn't feel compelled to clean up. So I made the oldest dude clean it up. By himself. By the time I saw the mess, his accomplice was long gone. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth over the size of the job, and I honestly felt kind of bad making him do it all. But....there is a lesson to be learned in that mess. Don't let your friends encourage you to do something you know is wrong and/or destructive. Don't let your friends leave without helping to clean up the mess they've helped make. And failing those two things, don't let your mom stumble across said mess when she's rushing around trying to get 47 other things done....tell her about it. Or better yet, clean it up without being asked. Or told. Or yelled at. How many times does a child need to hear things before they start to become ingrained, even a little? Rhetorical question....no one knows the answer, because there is no answer. Adam and Eve are still waiting for their kids to figure it out.

I'm glad we went to the concert. The music was beautiful and really got me feeling the Christmas spirit. The kids sounded wonderful. We only made it through about half of it though, because the littlest dude was getting very whiny and wanted to go home, and it was kind of late for a school night. But it was really, really nice.

That mountain of laundry that I was avoiding the other day, has sadly not disappeared, in spite of my fervent wishing and resourceful avoidance. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate folding laundry? Maybe I'll watch Twilight while I fold.

WOW!

2009-12-11T13:50:00.004-05:00

No sooner did I type that last sentence, and go downstairs to play trains with the littlest dude, than the phone rang and guess who it was? The UC advisor! How bout that?! I have an appointment Monday morning to bring her some papers she needs to certify before I can talk to the Veterans Assistance people. But it doesn't take very long and is just a step in the checklist.

Am working my way towards committing to running a full marathon in 2010. Right now I'm sort of on the fence, wanting to do it so that I can say I conquered the challenge. But very afraid. It's a LOT of miles and I'm intimidated.

So I'll probably be writing quite a bit about wrestling with it, and ultimately, about the training process. I ran 13.1 twice, and I found that after about 5-6 miles, it's about 90% mental. I'm betting that is the case with 26.2. Shoot, it's already messing with my head and IF I run it, it's almost a full year away.

Anyway. Back to my regularly scheduled day. And the mountain of laundry I'm desperately trying to avoid folding.

OK, OK

2009-12-11T11:09:00.002-05:00

Tiger is a serial cheater. I take back my previous defense. I still don't think the world at large necessarily has the RIGHT to know all this stuff, but I can no longer raise the argument that maybe it was a one-time thing, a big mistake.

Shame on Tiger Woods.

And on Mark Sanford too...I read this morning that his wife filed for divorce. I have a huge amount of respect for how she handled the public side of that mess. She's a smart, classy woman that Mark Sanford will regret cheating on for the rest of his days. He said he wanted to reconcile out of one side of his mouth while calling his mistress his "soul-mate" out of the other. You got to make up your mind Governor! And what a fine example you've set for your four sons! Jenny Sanford will come out stronger on the other side. I respect the fact that she drew firm boundaries and stuck to them, as far as what she was willing to do. I respect that she didn't blast him publicly, and that she publicly stated that she was willing to forgive and work her marriage out. I respect that she gave him a chance when many other wives wouldn't have and now that he's shown he's not willing to give up his mistress for his family, I respect that she is walking away with her head held high. She did exactly what she said she was going to do.

I wish my advisor from school would call me back so I can file my VA paperwork.

So interesting

2009-12-09T09:45:00.002-05:00

To me, anyway.

A couple of posts ago, I talked a little about questions about my faith. My faith is absolutely part of who I am...it's more than that actually. It is the core of who I am. Am I still human, and do I still make mistakes and do and say things I wish I hadn't? Of course. But still....at my core, I am a child of God.

Last night, the hubs and I went to Mass for Feast of the Immaculate Conception, mercifully without the kids. L was kind enough to keep them corralled so we could go alone. And they had already attended Mass at school. I catch myself at Mass with a wandering mind sometimes...ok, fairly regularly...but I do catch it and bring myself back to the here and now.

Anyway, no sooner did I post the questions that were in my head, than God started showing me things in my life and in the world around me. Does He read my blog, d'ya think?

As I was listening to the readings and singing hymns (I do really love how they sing the Responsorial now!) I just looked at Mary. During the consecration, I was watching Father bless the bread and the wine, and this feeling just kind of came over me, and I had the re-realization that I was part of something sacred. In the Prayers of the Faithful, part of one of the prayers was the phrase, "that all of us gathered here acknowledge that we have found favor with God, and respond with fidelity."

Found favor with God.

Doesn't get any better than that. And just in time to answer the questions I had so recently voiced. Hmm. Pretty cool.

I just want to complain today

2009-12-03T21:06:00.002-05:00

The title should suffice as a warning.

I have apparently failed as a mother, to teach my children to do what they are asked, when they are asked to. And I have failed on a grand scale to teach them to pick up after themselves. Their bedtime is supposed to be 8. Dinner, some TV or reading or play time, showers, pajamas, prayers, bed. Without fail, it is past 9 by the time they are horizontal. I hate yelling and yet that's all I seem to do. It's all they seem to respond to. I've tried asking nicely, I've tried making it a game, I've tried telling them without being particularly nice or funny, I've tried every dang thing I've read in Parents magazine. What really gets them moving, is to turn up the volume. I HATE that. And, I don't want them to look back on their growing up years and think, Jeez, all Mom ever did was yell. Yelling makes me feel bad and I don't like their faces when I yell. They look scared of me and I don't want that.

Cleaning up after themselves...oy. Where do I even start? I know I'm hardly the only parent who deals with any of this and I know there are a bunch of kids who are worse than mine in that respect. But I also know what mine are capable of, in many more areas than cleaning up I might add, and I don't like to see them constantly trying to weasel out of things. Things they should be doing without question, without whining, without being asked or told 43 times. My friend K lent me a book I'm going to have to go buy, I think. It's called "Have A New Kid By Friday." I really liked some of the suggestions in it and I want to reread it.

The husband is gone....again. I know it's his job and I know that him going to work enables me to stay at home and whine about how he's always gone. I get that. Reference the title of this post. It's one of those days.

He's on his way home. He left Tuesday and will get home around midnight tonight. He went to Atlantic City for a two day training course that isn't technically required. It's a requirement if he wants to keep an additional duty, a facet of his job that is important to him, and it honestly is to me too. But it's not required. So he went to Atlantic City and didn't get paid, isn't getting reimbursed for the hotel (a suite, of course) or the meals or anything. He called, all excited, to tell me about the training and the stuff he got to do, and I'm sure I sounded less than enthusiastic....which I was. I was irritated that he was gone having a good time, while I was at home, yelling at the kids every day, running them to the dentist and basketball practice while trying to figure out a decent dinner and remember to let the dog out. I want to go away and have fun too.

I'm up to my eyeballs. I'm so freaking done with school....I am getting to where I hate being in school. And I've got too far to go, to be this grumpy about it. I need to hang onto the motivation for another 5 quarters. I'm trying but man, I'm sick of it.

Getting antsy about getting the VA paperwork submitted in time to pay for winter quarter. Tired of worrying about money. Not strong enough to hand it over to God and just stop worrying. It sounds so simple, I wish I could figure out how to do that....just hand it over and let it go.

And one last thing. L's complaints about her job are getting old. She works 5-6 hours a night, 4 nights a week, then 5-6 hours one day a week. She gets up around 3 in the afternoon, says how tired she is, and lays back down to take a nap before going to work. I'll give her that working nights sucks. Been there, done that. It's tough. But a 25, maybe 30 hour workweek isn't such a hardship. She's got it pretty dang good right now and I'm concerned for her that when the gravy train pulls into the station, she's really not going to know what to do.

That'll probably do for one night. Most of the time I'm not this grumpy and whiny. I am well accustomed to the routine, or lack thereof, in our lives because of his work schedule. I get that I am the one who provides the day to day care and feeding, and the consistency. And I don't complain about, inwardly or outwardly. I'm grateful that I can complain about school because at least that means I'm still going.

I'm just tired, I feel overwhelmed today for some reason, and I want to complain. Thanks for listening.

People in glass houses

2009-12-02T21:55:00.002-05:00

really shouldn't throw stones.

I try not to get all sucked into celebrity tabloid trash stuff, but how can you help knowing all about Tiger Woods' drama recently? It's all over everything.

I don't know if he was cheating. I don't really care, honestly. I can't get over how hateful people are in general though....it's like they were just waiting for him to stumble, so they could kick him when he's down. People are calling him every name in the book, hoping Elin takes him to the cleaners, saying he deserved for her to beat him to death with his own golf club...I mean, holy crap. Evil.

First of all, it isn't any of anyone's business. Why do we, the public, feel justified and entitled to dig through Tiger Woods' garbage to find out about him? Why do we demand to know what he was doing out at 2:30? What if, just for the sake of argument, his wife was pregnant and wanted some Rocky Road ice cream? Or what if one of their kids were sick and they had run out of baby Tylenol? What business is it of anyone's? Why does he have to explain anything? And even if he was cheating, and he'd had huge fight with his wife and she smashed his window to keep him from leaving the house, SO WHAT? WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF OURS?

People love to watch other people screw up and make mistakes. It makes us feel better about our own miserable lives, I guess. It's kind of sick, and kind of the dark underbelly of human nature, to enjoy other people's struggles. Does it make you feel superior, to know that someone famous has made a mistake that you haven't? Or one that you're not willing to admit to during a press conference?

Honestly, I guess none of these columnists or bloggers (!) or idiots commenting on a news story has ever made any mistakes. I wouldn't take any bets on whether they've ever cheated. Yet they're perfectly content and feel justified in excoriating Tiger Woods. For being human and making mistakes. He's made his apologies, now let him go home and try to work it out, and leave him and his family alone! Not that I condone cheating, not at all, but what right does any of us have to hold his feet to the fire? The only person who has a right to do that is the wronged party which, if in fact he has cheated, is his wife. Who are these other vultures?

All these self-righteous women who scream that Elin should take him to the cleaners, take him for every dime he's worth and never look back....holy cow, such anger and bitterness! Cheating, while it certainly is devastating, does not have to be a deal breaker. If the cheater is not willing to change their behavior and work to change the environment in the marriage, well, then, it IS a deal breaker. Serial cheating will kill it for sure. But hear me out here....there is a whole other possibility. Maybe it could have been a mistake...something that got out of hand and went too far too fast....again, I'm not condoning. Just saying that someone who has cheated should not necessarily be next in line for the lynch mob.

Statistics, while they can be bent to conform to any point you want to make, generally tell us that a lot of people cheat. And a lot of people immediately call the lawyer, which in turn contributes to that 50+% divorce rate. I will never in a million years believe that it is totally one sided though....it takes two to create an atmosphere where one or both are vulnerable to it. That's a hard truth to accept, and yet it is true. If you are happy and content in your marriage, even if you have girls throwing themselves at you naked, you're going to want to get home to your wife. If something is missing, you're going to be more likely to stray.

The bottom line is that if there are problems in a marriage, they should be addressed between the partners before it comes to a crossroads and a decision to pursue the short-term, feel-good ego boost. And the bottom line where Tiger Woods is concerned is, let the man go home and ask forgiveness, and work it out in peace. Leave him be. He doesn't owe you any explanations or apologies.

Unanswerable questions

2009-11-28T14:32:00.002-05:00

I went out for a walk today.

Yesterday was Black Friday, the traditional day of shopping madness. In my family it is a tradition that we all go to my sister's house for a huge meal that lasts all day and into the evening. More food just magically appears whenever any of the trays run low....turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, broccoli and cheese casserole, dinner rolls, corn casserole, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, peanut brittle, hot apple cider...so it goes all day and all evening. Football games are interspersed with cartoons and video games. And my family and I sleep over there, so that we can take part in the continuation of the festivities, namely Black Friday shopping. The girls all get up insanely early to go shopping. The guys sleep in and hang out at home with all the kids, and they bring the kids to the mall for lunch and pictures with Santa. It's just what we do.

We came home last night and I was thoroughly exhausted. Thanksgiving morning, I had gone downtown to take part in another local tradition, the Cincinnati Thanksgiving Day 10K. I have never run it before, but I really enjoyed it...a good race, a fun day, good company. So I was tired from that to start with, then I got up at 4:30 am (!!) Friday to go shopping. When we got home Friday night, I was wiped. out.
Went to bed and spent a much needed 12 hours there.

Today, before the husband left for work, I went for a walk. I thought about going for a run, but decided on a walk instead. No races coming up....don't want to work too hard today, feeling a bit...not lazy exactly, but I don't feel like working hard. It's a gorgeous day...almost painfully blue, clear sky, chilly but not cold. Instead of the music I normally listen to when I exercise, I decided to go with a podcast I download but don't always remember to listen to, called "Catholic Under the Hood." It's done by a priest who is a professor at Franciscan University across the state. I was listening to a segment he did on marriage, specifically Eastern Orthodox ceremonies, and I was thinking about the differences between Eastern ceremonies and Western or Roman Catholic ceremonies, and what the symbolism meant.

Since I've been back in school, studying science (because I have to), history (because I want to) and philosophy, and learning to think more critically, as in asking questions, weighing evidence, and coming to logical conclusions, my faith has raised an awful lot more questions than it has answered for me. And I'm not sure what that means. I found myself in a discussion, almost a debate, about religion recently and it really made me think. Who says my way is the right way? Is there "one true faith"? Are Protestants, Lutherans, Episcopals, Jews, Buddhists, Assemblies of God congregations, all going to hell because they aren't Catholic? How can I believe in a God I can't see, touch, or smell? Am I really hearing or feeling Him, or is it just that I want to so badly that I've convinced myself He's real? Science and the theory of evolution explains a lot about the way the world works, in a scientific way, where all the loose ends get tied up neatly and everything is explained.

How can you explain faith to a person who demands hard evidence? There is a component of mystery to faith, something that simply cannot be explained. The Holy Trinity.....how do you explain that? Three persons in one? And the religious sects that broke away from the Church because they couldn't subscribe to the same beliefs? How does it all make sense? They say we pray to idols and images and statues....we pray to the Saints and therefore are worshipping someone other than God Himself....how does this stack up neatly to make a complete picture of the one true faith, led by a supposedly infallible human man? What does it mean if I disagree or have a hard time being obedient to, or just flat out disobey, certain aspects of my chosen faith?

The only thing I know for sure, and this makes me a terrible debater, is the overwhelming peace I feel when I hear Mass. The soothing cadence of the prayers, the structure that doesn't change, the rhythm of sitting, standing, kneeling....I feel whole. My friend told me about explaining the Eucharist to her grandson....he wanted to know what it tasted like. She said it didn't really have a taste, but it was more of a feeling than a taste. And the Eucharist brings up another big question....if transubstantiation is real, then are we really eating the Body and drinking the Blood of Christ? How? And does that make us, as some people accuse, cannibals?

In my heart, I don't doubt. God is real. The Bible is the Truth. But again with the questions....which version is true? Is the Bible not just a bunch of stories passed down through the ages? Whose perspective? Were they really prophets?

Only when I try to communicate what I believe, and why I believe it, do I sound like I doubt. And so I hope that what I've heard is true...the truly faithful ask the most questions. Your faith really becomes your own and becomes fuller with each question you ask, and seeking to understand more fully means strengthening your faith. Boy, I sure hope so. 'Cause I still have a lot of questions.

OK, OK

2009-11-24T15:41:00.003-05:00

Maybe it sounds a little like I'm hating on Stephenie Meyer. I'm not. I'm just envious, to some degree. I haven't read anything she's written other than the Twilight series, and I know she has published other things. Twilight is written for a certain audience, I get that. I still don't think hers is a sophisticated writing style and I still think Twilight in general is overly wordy. It's still a fun escape that takes you back for a minute to the breathless first love that actually loved you back.

But whatever. I'm going to go see New Moon again tomorrow night. By myself. Unless I can talk another of my Twi-Mom friends into going again. But I'm ok going by myself...I can indulge my little high school fantasies in anonymity.

We went to the dentist today and the littlest dude has a cavity. That he needs filled. Poor kid. But the upside is that it's Thanksgiving break and I let them start it early instead of making them go back to school after the dentist appointment.

So, being Thanksgiving and all, everyone always wants to talk about what we're thankful for. I'm thankful for the alarm clock that wakes me up too early, because that means I have a reason to get out of bed and a family to take care of. I'm thankful for the gas that runs out too quickly in my car, because that means I'm active and busy. I'm thankful for being sore from running, because that means I have a healthy body that can run for miles. I'm thankful that I haven't finished college yet, because that gives me a goal to work towards. I'm thankful that teaching my preschool PSR class stresses me out a little, because that means I am concerned about doing it right and sharing God's word with His most precious children. I'm thankful that I have a family that cheers me across finish lines, understands why I leave them to go to school at night and to work one weekend a month, is happy to see me come back in the door, and always catches me when I fall. I'm thankful I have a husband who still loves me even though our path has been bumpy and sometimes downright scary. I'm thankful mine is not a perfect, trouble-free, never-ending joyride existence, because then I'd never have learned to appreciate what I have. And what I have is pretty great.

A lyric from a current favorite song :

Don't you give up now
The sun will soon be shining
Gotta face the clouds
To find the silver lining.

A very happy, peaceful and blessed Thanksgiving to all.

Vampires and love stories

2009-11-22T20:36:00.003-05:00

I went out Friday night with a couple of my girlfriends and my stepdaughter to see New Moon, the new movie from the Twilight series. I guess you could say I'm a Twi-Mom. After being asked, oh, 64 times about the appeal of Twilight even though it is obviously written for much younger women than myself, I really tried to nail down what it is that I like about it.

I loved Twilight, the first book; liked but didn't love New Moon, the second one; loved Eclipse, the third one, and not so much with Breaking Dawn, the fourth one. I'm going to discuss the events of the books freely so I guess that could count as a spoiler alert.

Twilight is a breathless, swoony, ridiculously over the top love story. The kind that only happens in high school. Which is where this book conveniently takes place. Well, Bella is really in high school and Edward is pretending to be. I do not mean to belittle the author's accomplishments in any way...holy cow, she spawned a whole phenomenon! But honestly her writing style is not real sophisticated. And it's really wordy. It takes her 700 pages to tell a story that is really only about 400 or so. Being a writer myself, I cannot help but notice mechanics and grammar and such things....I have been known to be called "the grammar police" on more than one occasion. And I'm not saying I think I could write it better, but....for an English lit major, it's just not quite what I would expect.

It started getting a little strange in New Moon. Let me put out there as a disclaimer that I am not into the whole fantasy realm in any way, shape or form, so I was surprised to like this as much as I do. Because there is some serious fantasy involved. Vampires, werewolves and shape shifters stretch my tolerance quite a bit. I hung with the whole werewolf thing through New Moon and Eclipse. The fights between the vampires and their assorted enemies made me laugh and roll my eyes a little. And I think that allowing vampires get away with a lot and writing it off to "well, they're vampires, they can do whatever they want" almost amounts to literary cheating. Like you write your character into a situation that is seemingly impossible and then he just...gets out of it. Really? He can disappear at will? Honestly? He magically knows everything there is to know and holds several PhDs? And reads minds? Oh, well, he's a vampire, of course he does. But, it's her story and she can do what she wants with it. That's the writer in me picking someone else's work apart.

Eclipse was good. I liked it better than New Moon...it seemed like it more about the love story again, and New Moon was about Jacob turning into a werewolf. I thought the whole "let's get married so we can truly be together for eternity" was maybe just a little teeny bit hokey but I'll go with it. Who wouldn't want to marry Edward? He's perfect. I am very much looking forward to seeing the movie in the spring when it comes out. I love Robert Pattinson as Edward. I've not seen him in anything else, although I know he has been. In my mind he IS Edward and after Twilight it will take a little getting used to, to see him as other characters. But that's neither here nor there. I think the movies have been very well cast, we can just leave it at that. Taylor Lautner looks awesome as Jacob but given the fact that I am old enough to have a child his age.....that makes me view him a little differently. The girls in the theater Friday night were literally screaming and giggling when he was onscreen and took his shirt off. He will be truly fabulous when he is all the way grown up...got tremendous potential but he's still growing up.

Breaking Dawn stretched me about to my breaking point as far as the fantasy stuff where I had to just suspend all sense of reality. The thing about the other books is, it almost seems like it could really happen. Breaking Dawn, not so much. I just couldn't get to the place in my head where I still felt like it had the possibility of being something that could happen. Up until the part where Bella has become a vampire, it's ok....it's Edward and Bella on their honeymoon and the discovery they make while they are away, of Bella's super warp speed pregnancy, and it's ok. But when she starts drinking blood because it's what the baby wants, being half vampire and all, I kind of lost my grip on it. And Renesmee? Really? That's just ridiculous. And the big showdown with the Volturi that didn't happen was a letdown to a lot of people but frankly I was relieved. Bella pushing her "shield" out of her own mind and wrapping it around other people pushed me over the edge.

But all of that said, at its core, the Twilight series is an epic love story, that starts out against all odds, and yet somehow, love conquers all and they live happily ever after. Literally forever. All of Bella's ends are neatly tied up and she gets all of what she wants. She gets to be with Edward forever, she gets to be a vampire like she's been begging for since the beginning and she gets to keep Jacob without breaking his heart. We all love a happy ending where the heroine gets what she wants.

Who doesn't remember that breathless first love where you felt like you couldn't breathe when he looked at you and smiled? Who wouldn't want to feel like that again, just for a minute? After discussing with my other Twi-Mom friends I've come to a conclusion. Those of us in the midst of the chaos and tedium that marriage for a certain number of years, and having young children bring, joyous and wonderful certainly, but chaos nonetheless, love an escape from the routine of everyday real life. Not that we want to escape permanently, just for a little bit. And dream that someone as perfect and brilliant and swoon-inducing as Edward could love plain old us. Not that our husbands aren't wonderful, but come on, they're not Edward. Only Robert Pattinson is. And I heard he's taken.

Stephenie Meyer's story gives me hope....she was a stay home mom of three boys and the kernel of what grew into Twilight came to her in a dream. She's living my dream. Well, I don't know if I would want the extent of what Stephenie's got going on....movies and fame and all that goes with that....but what I wouldn't give to have a great idea for a story, start writing and just watch it take off.

More than anything in the world, I hate

2009-11-13T20:57:00.003-05:00

throwing up. OK, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but I really really really hate being sick to my stomach. There are other things I hate more, like real disease, terrorism, crushing poverty....you know, things that really make life difficult.

Wednesday night, we were at the beginning of a long weekend. The older two spuds were off from school and the little guy only had to go in the morning, so we were going to have pizza and watch a movie after the scout meeting that Daddy and the oldest had to go to. But middle spud suddenly didn't feel good and asked if he could put on pj's and lie on the couch after dinner. This kid never does that. Never. So we curled up on what we call The Sleepy Chair in the family room and watched America's Funniest Home Videos. Why people crashing dirt bikes and falling off a skateboard onto their heads is funny, I'll never really understand but somehow it's still entertaining. I could feel the poor guy getting warmer and warmer and when I took his temperature at bedtime it was 103.5. Yikes! He took some Tylenol and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. So I was feeling a little tired myself and decided to just to go bed early. I fell asleep pretty much right away.

At 11:00 or so, I woke up and something just didn't feel right. Couldn't put my finger on it, but I just felt....strange. The thing that was wrong made itself clear about 20 minutes later and I spent the rest of the night back and forth between bed and the bathroom. Matt complained of a stomachache when he came up to go to bed shortly after I got up the first time. Then around 12:30 or baby spud came in, crying and saying, "I frowed up in my bed." Then it was a merry go round of taking turns in the bathroom. Interestingly, middle spud with the fever was perfectly fine the next morning. I, however, wished for death.

Thursday, I dragged myself out of bed long enough to go to teacher conferences for the older two spuds....both were good....then I crawled home and laid on the couch whining and moaning for the next 12 hours or so. Baby spud missed his school pictures in the morning. He was all dressed and ready to go, seemingly feeling better, then he frowed up all over his nice clean sweater. He was recovered enough to go in the afternoon and smile for 15 seconds, then come back home to lie on the couch with me, moaning and watching old Looney Tunes.

I feel 1000% better today and even went out shopping with my awesome sister and my awesome niece and her adorable kids.

But man, I don't know if I can adequately express how much I hate being sick to my stomach. I think I'd rather have the swine flu. Blech.

Why, oh why

2009-11-11T15:01:00.002-05:00

do I do this to myself? I am fascinated by politics and history, and how one feeds the other. So, naturally I'm drawn to political websites, news discussion boards and the like. And being who I am, I can't usually keep my mouth shut for very long. So I join in the online conversation/debate from time to time.

I guess I'm just too thin-skinned to debate much of anything, because I just don't get the need to state your case and then heap insults on top of your well thought out and well stated argument. You know, people lay out this whole researched and clearly elaborated position and then they call you a ****ing idiot and soulless pig who should burn in Hell because you disagree. I got into a discussion about the health care reform bill and whether or not it is fair and/or right to have a public health care option that includes abortion coverage. Now, I don't want to debate abortion. My problem is using taxpayer funds to pay for them. Many, many of said taxpayers do not support abortion and would not knowingly pay for one under any circumstances. But see, if they pass a reform that includes a public option, and that public option includes abortion coverage, guess what? We the people, are paying for abortions. No matter what President Obama tries to tell us about how they are not using federal funds for abortion.

Anyway, I jumped into the discussion and was promptly told to "keep my opinions to myself" because abortion is a "sacred and private affair" that is a legal procedure, and my objection gets us nowhere. I spoke my piece respectfully and calmly, then was called a "religious zealot" and a "fanatic." Never mind the fact that I had not once used the word God, faith, Bible, religion or anything of the sort. I HATE ugly debate. Hate it. How does calling anyone names and insulting their mother get us any further than my saying I oppose abortion and I don't want to pay for it?

In the spirit of full disclosure, I continued my discussion with the gentleman and he retracted his comment where he called me a zealot and a fanatic. But that debate goes there, so frequently and so easily, is just stupid. When you start swearing and calling people names, it means you have run out of intelligent things to say. You need to step away from the keyboard and take a deep breath.

So, even though I didn't swear at or insult anyone, I'm going to take my own advice, or at least try to. I'm still going to read it all because you can still learn something and sometimes gain a new insight, but I am going to try to step away from the keyboard and stop beating my head against a brick wall. No matter how good it feels when I stop.

A heavy heart

2009-11-06T10:24:00.002-05:00

My heart goes out to all those affected in any way by the horrific shootings at Fort Hood, Texas, yesterday. There's really nothing else to say. I will keep praying for the victims, the families, the people who were injured and the people who were witness to it.

Let the facts come out and don't jump to conclusions about why it happened, or any of the circumstances.

On a happier note, the middle offspring and his class, along with the kindergartners, were responsible for morning prayer today at school....he had a reading to do. They are just precious. I love those sweet little voices and those sweet faces, and I hate that they're growing up so fast. I've never been one to bemoan the fact that children do in fact, grow up, and I didn't really cry on the first day of school. Ever. But I'm a little more conscious than I have been before about the passage of time and how this time next year, all my children will be in school all day long. I'll drop them off at 8:30 and I won't see any of them again till 3:30. Now, there is a part of me that does a little happy dance, at the thought of all that time to get things done, run all my errands in peace, do my schoolwork uninterrupted....but then again, the other part of me likes having little people underfoot and sticky hands that only want to hug me and pull me down on the floor to play Legos.

I'm getting all misty just talking about it. But it'll pass. As much as I have loved mothering babies and toddlers, I'm digging the school years too. It's fun to watch them learn and grow and develop into their own people. Frustrating as hell at times too, for sure. But pretty cool too....awe-inspiring even. I'm looking forward to knowing the young men my little boys are growing into.

There's nothing quite as pure and innocent and sweet as a child's love.

Life happens

2009-11-05T16:25:00.002-05:00

I keep saying that, don't I? Lame excuse for being lazy and tongue-tied. Can you be tongue-tied if you are typing and not speaking? Hmmm....

Ongoing issues with the 9 year old and his meds. I so wish he didn't need the meds, or that I could find some way to help him not need them. So many times I feel like I fail him, by losing my patience when he needs me to be the grown-up, or by leaving him to his own devices to figure out how to cope with ADHD and anxiety. This hasn't been a good week for us...he's not only not doing his work at school, he's lying about whether it's done or not, and weaseling out of punishments. He was supposed to come back to his classroom after lunch to finish some work the other day and he just decided he'd rather go outside so he did. You can't not go to detention! I don't think it's detention per se, but the 4th grade version of it. Anyway, not a good week, and I'm not handling it very well.

I picked up a packet of stuff after school today, to make a presentation at school for Veteran's Day. I'm going to be in the second grade classroom with the 7 year old, and there's a story to read and a few activities. I read the story standing in the kitchen and promptly burst into tears. How am I going to read it to the kids? I love to go in on Veterans' Day...I always go in uniform, and I really like doing it. I think it's so important for kids to have positive images of military people and realize that they/we are just normal people, moms and dads, and not the sometimes really ugly things that the media puts out there. I just posted something on my Facebook page....an article about how 75% of America's youth (people in the prime recruiting age range) are either "too fat, too lazy, too dumb or too dishonest to get into the Army." Article's words, not mine. Obese, can't pass a test, don't come to appointments on time if at all, or have a criminal record. 75%. Horrifying.

I get that the military isn't for everyone. I get how scary it is to watch your child do something that could potentially get them killed. But ponder this: every person in uniform is someone's kid. Thank God someone's kids answer their nation's call; where would we be if no one did? I have heard, more times than I care to think about, parents say things like, "My kid will join the military over my dead body." A mom in Seth's ADHD therapy group told us (the other parents) that her son wanted to be a Marine, but she looked him in the eye and lied to him, telling him they wouldn't take him because of having ADHD. And she was PROUD of lying to him. I nearly bit my tongue in half....so, let me get this straight. It's perfectly OK for other people's kids to put on the uniform and go to war. Just not YOUR kid. I tried not to, but I had to say something. I just said that I had been in the service for 18 years, and I was still here to tell the tale. It's not a prison sentence or a death sentence.

After I calmed down, I got to thinking, why do people feel this way? What is so wrong with serving your country? If it's about the danger, we're all in danger all the time. You don't have to be a soldier carrying a gun to have a horrible accident, to get in a car crash, to get sick. You can fall down the stairs or hit your head in your own home. Yes, maybe it's morbid to think that way, or to say it out loud, but it's true.

I don't want to think that people don't value military service. But many parents don't seem to instill that spirit of service, of giving back, and so many kids don't understand what it means to hold something so dear, something that is bigger than your little corner of the world, something that cannot be possessed or touched to felt, something so important that you would go out of your way to defend it. Defend it to the death if it came down to it. I have one kid in the Army, I have been in the AF for over 18 years, the husband spent almost 28 years in uniform, and when my younger kids get there, I'll encourage them to consider military service. I'm PROUD of my kid for choosing to serve something over himself. I'm proud of him for choosing the uniform. Am I scared something will happen to him? Sure I am. I put him in God's care every single day. But does my fear trump his desire to serve honorably and nobly? Not on your life.

Military rant over. It just makes me sad that so few people have that desire to serve. Yes, I know, there are lots of ways to serve your country; wearing a uniform is but one. But still. Oh wait, I said it was over didn't I?

Hmmm, what else? H1N1 is so yesterday. We are not doing the shot. Why are people so freaked out? Tens of thousands of people die every year from the seasonal flu and you don't see this mass hysteria. It's here, in my small town. Unless you are in the high risk category, in which case my opinion most definitely changes, my impression is you get sick, have a fever and a cough for a week or so, and you get better. Several kids of friends of mine have had it, and they got over it in a few days, week or so max. One kid had a fever of 105 on Monday and was at football practice on Friday.

I got my GI Bill claim approved!! I'm going to finish school! Hallelujah! Money was really becoming an issue, as in, there wasn't enough. And now I've got help paying for tuition! A year from June, and I'll be walking. I'm the first person in my family to go to school at all, let alone graduate. There was a part of me that thought I'd never really get there. And I'm not there yet, don't want to count those chickens just yet, but it feels good to see the finish line from here.

SO thankful for my friends who keep me grounded, keep me laughing and keep me in their prayers. Peace out.

Brushing off the cobwebs

2009-09-01T13:48:00.002-04:00

Wow. April 14th? That's a long time. It's not that I have nothing to say, it really isn't. Just ask my husband, I have plenty to say. It's just that life gets in the way. Spring and summer flew by, in a blur of finals, end of the year parties and field day, day camps, baseball games, the zoo, the pool, and a quick trip to upstate New York for a family reunion.

What are we doing now? I'm on a break from school till the end of September and reading the Twilight saga, the short people just started back to school and are getting in the swing of things, the husband is off work for awhile because of having shoulder surgery and we have a new resident, my stepdaughter L. She's working nights and saving money. Pretty boring and normal stuff.

So today, we're going to visit the husband of a dear friend of our family, who is in the process of dying. It makes me more uncomfortable than I can say to go and sit face to face with that reality because I just don't know what to say. You can't ask someone who is dying, "How ya doing?" Hospice comes over every day and the family minister was there last night....you know the time is drawing near. And I don't know what to say, how to act. But I can't not go. It would be so much easier to say, we're so busy we just don't have time to swing by this afternoon, and send a card or some flowers. But what they really need is love and support and human contact. J needs to know that people love him and care what is going on, and R needs to know to people will still be there for her when he is not. Would I want people to run from us in a time of need? So, as awkward and speechless and helpless as I feel, we will go put our arms around R and J and tell them that we love them. It's isn't nearly enough but it's all we've got.

In other news, I'm training for a half marathon that is in three weeks. I'm nervous but excited. Running has really become a part of who I am. The idea of running a full marathon keeps crossing my mind....but I'm afraid of doing a full. 26.2 miles is a lot of dang miles. What I find harder than the physical part is the mental aspect of continuing to run for 2+ hours. Oh sure, I take walk breaks and I stop at water stations or to use the restroom occasionally. But for the vast majority of the time, I'm running. What to think about, what to do with my mind so it doesn't talk my body into quitting? Maybe next school year when the youngest dude is in all day school, I could train for a full. It's very time consuming, training for a race.

I'm getting close to the end of school. This year and then one more academic year till graduation. In my world, that means it's just about over. Then I just have to figure out what I am going to do with the degree. Use it to go to more school? Get a job? In this economy? With a history degree? Mmm-hmm. Three years ago when I really started to take this college thing seriously, life looked a lot different, and I had a different goal in mind. Isn't it funny how quickly things change?

Thinking about life after school is really kind of odd...I've just done school for so long, and it would feel strange to not have that looming just out of reach anymore. I need to have some goal that I am working toward and school has been it for so long. What will it be? Kind of exciting and kind of scary at the same time.

Tough love

2009-04-14T16:17:00.002-04:00

Let me start by saying I love my husband's children as if they were my own. Truly, truly I do. There are two of them and they are two very, very different people. Neither of them lived with us as children but the older one, B, lived with us for a year after college. He got a full time job, wasn't 100% sure what he wanted to do, but he just needed a place to crash for a while, and so he was here. We didn't make him pay rent but he paid for his own stuff....car, gas, insurance, going out money, etc. Every now and again he'd ask for help with something and we usually did. He helped us out by taking care of the house if we went away for a couple of days, helped with the kids, and took care of the older two when I had to go the hospital to have #3 forced out, I mean, induced....he contributed to the household and the arrangement worked out fine. When he moved out for good, part of me was sad to see him go, although I knew that it was time.

Well, the situation with L is little different. She's kind of always held us at arm's length, and we're her last resort, it seems. She is 24 years old, lives at home with her mother, graduated from college a year ago, and works weekends at a local restaurant/casino type establishment. She says that she is sending out resumes and looking for another job to supplement the weekend gig, but nothing has come up yet. Frankly I question how motivated she is, and how much time she is putting into her job search, because if I send her email or a note on Facebook, it is generally answered within 5 minutes. I know that her mother has her doing work around the house, taking care of their animals and such. I don't think she pays rent and she is driving her mother's car, not having one of her own. Which brings me to my point.

When her mother gets fed up with her, she threatens to take the car away and kick her out, and then it's always "Dad, can I come live with you?" We've always told her that we'd do the same for her that we did for B, and she is welcome to live with us. Today we got an email that "The deadline for Mom taking the car away is coming up quick and I need help. If I don't have a car I won't be able to drive myself to work. Can you please help me get a car?"

I have a few questions. How long have we known about the deadline coming up? How long did we have to start putting out some real effort to get a car of our own?
If you live at home and have zero expenses, how is it that you have so little money in the bank? If you only work weekends, that gives you all week long to go out and try to find some other part time gig that would bring in more money. At 24, it's time to be a grown up now. When I was 24, I'd been in the military for nearly four years. At 24, my husband and his ex-wife (B & L's mom) were married, had a child and were managing their own lives without any help from their parents.

And with a college degree no less, you can do better than bussing tables. Now, in fairness, we helped B get a car...actually we gave him one of ours. We were getting ready to buy a new one, and rather than trade in the old one, we gave it to him. It was several years old and was hardly his first choice but beggars can't be choosers. And we've always said, whatever we do for B, we have to be willing to do for L. I'm willing to help but only up to a point.

Am I completely heartless and cruel because I don't really feel like this is our problem to solve? Am I the evil stepmother? I'm frustrated because I know in my heart, from past experience, whatever we do will somehow not be enough, and we'll be blamed for the whole mess. I've told him (the husband) that he needs to get together in person with L and her mother and stop this email back and forth, between him and L, him and the ex-wife, and who knows what the ex-wife is telling L at home? He said, she said, to the nth degree. The three of them need to sit down and solve the problem. Make a plan and then do it. A little less talk and a little more action.

It's time to be a grown up now. Take responsibility for your own needs, figure out what you want and how to get there, and then go do it. The problem is that B was encouraged, even pushed, to grow up and be a man, get out of the house, go live your life, as boys often are, especially boys of divorced mothers who (either consciously or not) ask them to be the man of the house after Dad moves out. L was pampered and babied and not taught any of the lessons she needed to be ready to take care of herself. She is not prepared to be an adult. I love her and I want to see her succeed, but I don't think that Mom and Dad giving her everything and taking care of everything for her is doing her any favors.

Definitely need to pray on this.

Can't do it

2009-04-01T22:10:00.002-04:00

but I'm thinking about it a lot. I really miss flying. I've toyed off and on with the idea of going back to flying quite a lot over the last almost 10 years, since I flew my last mission as a C141C loadmaster. There are more reasons, good ones, not to do it, than there are to do it.

But still. I miss it. It was fun and exciting. Yeah, frustrating too. And it was easy for me to be away from home for a week or more at a time. No kids, no school, nothing to worry about. Life looks a lot different these days, and if I were to go back, assuming I could even get a load slot in the squadron, it would be hard. I'd have to be away for four months straight for training, then I'd be on active duty and at the mercy of my scheduler and the airplane for another year. C5's don't exactly have a good reliability rate and 4 day trips often turn into 12 day trips, waiting on parts and maintenance.

How would we handle me traveling again? The hub's job pays way better and he needs to be able to count on me being home when he goes to work. Unless we had a live-in nanny, it would just never work. Plus....as much as I miss flying, I don't really think I could be away from the fam for four months without some serious heartburn. If I was mobilized and ordered to active duty involuntarily that would be one thing. But to choose it...I don't know. I want to have a job/career that is meaningful and fulfilling, don't get me wrong. I'm just not willing to do it at the expense of my family. There is more than one way to have a meaningful career. I want to be there for my kids and not miss track meets and baseball games, and teacher conferences and all those things. And frankly, I think they need me here too.

I really do like what I do now. The big drawback is the lack of promotion potential. There is none. Zero. And I do want to get promoted someday. It's time. It will happen eventually, but my co-HO will have to leave/retire and I don't want her to go. I adore her and we make a good team, both as friends and professionally. When she leaves the office I will get the stripe. You gotta take the good with bad, I guess.

Just getting all nostalgic, I think. I left flying before I got all grumpy and bitter about it, so I always remember it through my rose colored glasses. I have conveniently forgotten what a pain it could be at times, how much I hated certain aspects of the job. But when I go back and read my journals from those days, it wasn't always sunshine and butterflies. Things really do happen for a reason, and sometimes, it just wasn't meant to be. Home is where I am supposed to be. While I miss flying and always will, I'm good with being home.

The sun is shining...

2009-03-30T14:53:00.003-04:00

on my street! It looks like spring outside. So the spousal unit and I took advantage of it and hit the bricks for about 2.5 miles today. It was chilly to start and he didn't think he was going to be able to go very far, but he surprised me (and himself!) He said that if he had been alone, he wouldn't have gone as far, but he didn't want me to think he was a total skirt. His words.

In any case, it was a gorgeous day for it and it felt great to get out and run.

School starts again tonight and I'm looking forward to it. I just really needed a break from thinking and worrying about school for a few days, and now I'm ready to start a new quarter. New class, new professor. I've gotten over my disappointment (for the most part) that I did the math wrong adding up my credits and I won't be graduating in a year like I thought, but there are worse fates in life. So I don't feel too bad about taking it easy this quarter and next, only one class per quarter. I'll get back at it in the fall and take more but I am ready to take it easy for awhile. I'm getting closer to graduating and I'm not totally taking the quarter off, so it's all good.

Nothing much exciting or interesting to talk about, just life. Oh, a funny thing happened today. Middle man-cub's homework got lost yesterday afternoon and he was quite upset this morning when we couldn't find it. We promised to bring it to school when it turned up. I asked one my favorite saints for a little help, and St Anthony (patron saint of lost things) came through like he always does. After our run today, the husband and I were trying to figure out what could have happened to the homework. Coming up the driveway, and seeing the empty garbage cans gave me a thought and I checked the recycle bin....they hadn't come to pick it up yet. Sure enough, in between sections of the Sunday paper was his bright blue "homework" folder with the assignment tucked inside. Thanks, St A!

I guess that about covers it for today. Not much going on in suburbia today, but I do have to give a quick shout out to my beloved UNC TAR HEELS who rocked the house last night, even though Yahoo is making fun of one of them for a bad dunk attempt. They're going to take it all this year, I just know it.

I'm still alive...

2009-03-23T22:09:00.002-04:00

and still hanging on the last of this damnable cough. It's gone beyond all semblance of reasonable. But it's almost gone, finally. The worst thing is, I feel like I always need to clear my throat.

I've been incommunicado for quite a while now. But some good things going on here...winter quarter is over, YAY! I'm on spring break, and waiting for grades to come out. I think I did pretty well in history, but literature is really a crapshoot. I worked hard on my final paper and I feel like I did what I was supposed to do. Is it "A" work? I don't know, I think it's pretty close, but I also thought my other work in the class was pretty good, but sadly the instructor disagreed. So, I'll just have to wait a few more days to find out. I did get into the online lit class for summer I wanted, which will complete my English requirement for graduation. Next school year, I will have to suck it up and take three classes each quarter but then I. WILL. BE. DONE. FINISHED. GRADUATED. Could it really be???

UC approved a program that allows outside training, such as military training, to be used for college credit, and I got a TRUCKLOAD of hours toward my degree from my military transcripts. In fact, I have more hours than I need to graduate! But they're not all applicable to the things I still need to complete like foreign language. But still, one more year, and that's it. That is so exciting that I can't really think about it.

In other news, I finally got some closure, if that is the right phrase, on a situation I had with a couple of people I thought were my friends. I pissed and moaned about it here awhile back. I bumped into one of them at the Y, on the track. I was walking with my headphones in, listening to music. The most I'd have done was say hi. She was walking on the track with her nose buried in a book, making a HUGE point of ignoring me. Now, I ask you, who goes to the gym, to walk on the track while READING A BOOK? This pissed me off beyond all reason. For the love of God, don't be such a baby, just say what you've got to say.

Knowing that these two girls are not ones for grown-up conversation (meaning they'd rather ignore you and cut off an entire friendship than just be honest and have the uncomfortable conversation) and phone calls would be ignored and then not returned, I used the only means of communication that I knew they'd see. I emailed both of them and said that I had tried to be patient and had spent the better part of the last several months hurt and confused, wondering what I had done to deserve being cut off so rudely and lacking any input from either of them, I had come to the conclusion that I didn't deserve it. I said that it hurt me and made me sad that they'd both rather write off a friendship than to just be honest and be a grown up, and have the uncomfortable conversation, but that I obviously couldn't control that.

Well, they both wrote me back rather quickly and let me know that I did indeed do things that they didn't like. I was told that my negativity literally sucked the life out of A, and that all we had in common was shopping and enjoying playing with makeup. Wow, could she think of me as any shallower? And J had thought the only thing we had in common was the fact that our kids were friends, but once our kids were not in the same class, that our "friendship" had just sort of drifted away. Both of these lame excuses are, not to put too fine a point on things, BULL. SHIT. Granted, when I was close with A, I was going through what was arguably one of the two worst times of my life. And maybe I didn't handle everything the way she thought I should. But if I'd known that was the parameter of the friendship, I might have done a whole lot of things differently. J is just full of it....we were friends after our kids weren't in the same class at school, for a couple of years.

What I have taken away from it, is that I am longer hurt and upset about the loss of these two supposed friends. Their responses tell me that this whole thing was more about them than it was about me. Neither of them was willing to be upfront about what they were thinking and feeling, so instead they both just blew me off. Yeah, they're related, they're sisters, which is why I keep referring to them as a unit. I never thought of them like that until they started acting exactly the same. In fact, A used to talk smack to me about J quite a bit, and was pretty harsh about her, but now all of a sudden they are super close and I am "attacking" their family? Whatever. Neither of them appears to have any traits of a mature grown woman, and neither of them can be trusted as far as they can be thrown. Lesson learned the hard way. I'm still upset but it's now about the way they treated me in ending the friendship rather than being upset that the friendship is over.

The oldest offspring is beginning to worry me again....a med issue. He is very limited in the types and dosages of meds he can take, he just can't tolerate a lot of them. But he's become habituated to the one he can take, and he seems to be slipping into some unacceptable behaviors. I don't want to be yelling and scolding and correcting all the time, but how he is behaving is not ok. He's going to be 9 this weekend, and it's early still but I'm wondering if he's beginning to deal with some hormones that are making him get a little more attitude-y. He just seems to be incapable of getting himself under control, and behaving appropriately. Or at least, his ability to do that is umm, intermittent. Today was kind of a bad day so maybe it's just one day. Here's hoping tomorrow is better.

I'm training for a 10K in May, and I plan to register for a half-marathon in September and a 10-mile race in October. Running is still my refuge, a place where I can go where it's just me and my legs and my lungs. Pushing myself to see how far I can go. I get away from everything and everyone when it's time for a run, and it's about the only time I can be alone with myself. I'm not trying to fix anything or anyone, I'm not worrying about money or school or the kids or my marriage, I'm just pickin' 'em up and puttin' 'em down. It's kinda cool.

The bubonic plague

2009-02-15T15:57:00.002-05:00

is what it feels like here. Ugh. I've been sick for about a month now, and the offspring are all varying degrees of sick. I have bronchitis, which I have my suspicions may have morphed into pneumonia or something else, but the chest xrays did not agree. I've been coughing my head off, and gasping for air and struggling to breathe each time I cough. The oldest offspring was diagnosed last week with pneumonia and his flu culture came back positive. The middle offspring has had a fever above 103 for the last couple days although today seems better, and the littlest one also has a high fever, with today being better than the last couple of days. But strangely, today the little guy has a really weird rash on his cheeks...it almost looks sort of measles-ish. It's red and spotty, but not bumpy or raised. His fever is down but he's got the rash. Hmmm. WebMD is a dangerous thing, and I don't think I'll go looking for info, because I usually come away thinking we all have massive brain aneurysms or terminal cancer.

So, we're slowly recovering. I can't wait for spring and better weather, although it's been mild around here lately, very not winter-like. In spite of that, I am still very much wanting to hibernate. I don't feel like going anywhere or doing anything. I'm ok with letting the spawn watch too much TV or play too much Wii, as long as they do it quietly, in the other room. Tired and unmotivated, that's me.

This quarter in school is interesting though...I am taking a literature class that is focused on family. Funny, I guess I thought it would be focused on books. Now to be fair, we are reading a lot, but the discussions and the writing we are doing is all about family. After our first class meeting I called my spousal unit on my way home from school and told him that I thought perhaps I had made a mistake. I thought I was taking a literature class, but in actuality, it was a group therapy session. And generally the discussions in class piss me off. I am very much in a minority there, because I'm about 20 years older than everyone else, including the instructor it seems, and I'm not in favor of abortion as a method of birth control, or problem solving or fighting poverty. Yeah, I know! How'd we get THERE in a literature class?! My thoughts exactly. We got to talking about OctoMom one night and being a whacked out neo con, I put in a vote for personal responsibility. Why should California taxpayers be handed a bill for her desire to have litters of children? Have all the children you want....but they are YOUR children, YOU take care of them. And somehow this discussion turned to abortion: if taxpayers are going to foot the bill (or at least contribute) for her in vitro procedures, should they also be asked to pay for abortions? I could not shut up and I was appalled that people think abortion is a perfectly fine way to solve the problem of not wanting to be pregnant. And that taxpayers should be ok with paying for abortions, since if a poor woman can't afford an abortion, how is she going to afford to care for a child? It's ultimately cheaper to the taxpayer to cover the abortion than to cover welfare/assistance for the baby. WHAT THE HELL kind of logic is that? And HOW THE HELL is this related to literature? And then one girl in the class said something about "those really religious people" who oppose abortion and I about came undone. Does having faith negate my credibility? So if I go to church and practice my faith, that means I'm just some fringe kook with nothing worthwhile to say? OMG. I remember believing differently when I was 20 than I do now, and much of what I thought then was stupid. But holy crap. This is our future? These are the future leaders of this country? Oy vey. And it isn't just the abortion thing, I listen to them talk and it seems clear to me that they just don't know much about the way the world works. They are so young and so...me me me. They shout down anyone who disagrees with them, and cannot or will not consider that any other viewpoint MIGHT have some validity. That drives me nuts.
The following week I refused to open my mouth even once. I could tell that the professor was getting irritated with me and just wanted me to shut up....every time I said something, he blew it off and moved on as quickly as he could, and he made me wait till last to speak, every time I had a comment. I don't like this class at all.

I have senioritis SO. BAD. I cannot adequately express how very much I want to be finished with school. But I was talking to a friend of mine last night and she was encouraging me to reconsider going to law school. She's an attorney and she offered to do anything she could to help me get into law school and said she'd help me out. I wrote off law school a long time ago, and found a new pursuit, but now....I'm just thinking. We were also at the bottom of a couple of bottles of wine, at least, but I'm sure that doesn't have anything to do with anything.

And my favorite professor has nominated me for an award at school! That was a great surprise, put a big smile on my face and made me feel really good. I will find out in April if I am among the finalists.

I guess that about catches me up. I've been sick, in school, and hanging out with the husband and the kids. The husband has been on call all of January, and all of February, and just today got called out for the first time in six weeks. Neither of us was unhappy that he went out today, and he'll be back in a couple of days. It was time for him to go out. Maybe it sounds bad but when you are used to your partner being gone for a few days on a regular basis, and then he's home for six weeks in a row, well, there is such a thing as spending TOO much time together. Now I have to get my sick and tired butt and get some stuff done around here!

A great read

2009-01-11T14:35:00.002-05:00

I just finished reading a book that was recommended by my very good friend Rachael, and it was so good I felt compelled to write a little bit about it. Not that my little corner of cyberspace gets all that much traffic but still, you just never know.

The book is called "The Shack." It even has its own website, www.theshackbook.com.
I plan to buy several more copies and give them to people to read and then pass on. I think everyone should read this book. It's a religious book of sorts, but maybe that isn't the best word to describe it. It's a spiritual book. You don't have to be Christian, or Jewish, or Catholic, or Protestant, or Buddhist, or Hindu, or a Muslim to get something out of it. I'd be willing to bet that an atheist could get something from reading this book.

Without giving the plot away, I will say that it is about a man who suffers a great tragedy in his life and how he comes to know God better than he ever thought anyone could, as a result. It made me think about how I think about God: who is He, what would He look like, what kinds of things would He say to me if I had the chance to ask Him questions? I'm a devout Catholic but I also have questions, things I wonder about, things I question and have a hard time understanding or believing. I completely reject the notion that doubts or questions mean that your faith is weak. I have a dear friend who is a spiritual director who helped me to see that it is the truly faithful who question, who seek to understand more fully. In the past, I always thought that it was a sin to question, and I was going to hell if I harbored any doubts about anything I was taught to believe. And God KNOWS if you doubt Him, so don't even consider it! That was part of my fundamental upbringing, and I've learned a thing or two since then. Back then, I was introduced to the Old Testament God who sent plagues and turned people into pillars of salt for their sins.

I believe that God is benevolent and loving and forgiving. I don't believe He is looking to nitpick all of our shortcomings and our sins. He knows we're human and we will always fall. That's the way He made us; of course He knows that. He doesn't really expect us to do as Jesus did, or act as Jesus did. We can't; we're not Jesus. He wants us to love one another. That's it. It sounds pretty simple, but we make *love* so much more complicated than it has to be. All of the bad things that have happened throughout history, where people have done such horrible wrongs to others and committed unspeakable crimes, have come not because God chose it for us, or because He failed to intervene, but they have come about as a result of the gift of free will. God lets us choose. And He, better than anyone, understands that we must experience the consequences of our choices (free will) if we are to learn anything.

I hope that kinds of things I read in "The Shack" are true, or that they are even in the same ballpark. I wonder where the author's ideas and inspiration came from. It's a beautiful story of forgiveness, hope, redemption and most importantly, of love.

Check it out. It's worth the time. www.theshackbook.com

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

2008-12-26T13:57:00.003-05:00

Lots of stuff going on around here lately. Holiday insanity, end of the quarter late night studying and writing, a freelance assignment and just general chaos.

Christmas was ok at our house this year. Yeah, just ok. The spousal unit had to work, which sucked. Yes, I'm grateful he has a good job to go to, but he's paid his dues for the last twenty years, and worked lots of holidays past. I'm just bummed that he got stuck flying Thanksgiving, Christmas AND New Year's this year. Blah. The older two offspring were both not with us this year....L had to work (welcome to being a responsible grownup but still no fun), B is stationed half a world away and came home for Thanksgiving, so Christmas was out of the question. So it just wasn't the same. But the kiddies were happy with their holidays....they got a two week break from school, and we've been having a good time. We still got to spend Christmas Eve with Dad (he flew out early Christmas morning) and Christmas day with family, and they were happy with their loot. So, all in all, it was still good.

The end of the quarter. I will be so glad to be done with school. I'm a senior now, so there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I did well in History...I had my favorite professor but I worked hard. I usually get good grades from him but he really makes me work for it. Good teacher :) Econ was a surprise. I didn't think I'd do all that well because it was really hard for me and I don't feel like I learned as much as I would have liked to. But I came away with a B+ so I am thrilled with that.

I had a freelance assignment due this week, and I managed to get it in, mostly on time. My deadline was Friday the 19th, but my editor let me know that she had a bit of "wiggle room," and I took advantage of it this time. I submitted on Monday the 22nd and all is well.

The kiddies are in the other room playing with their new games and watching a movie. It's 2:00 pm and we're all still in our jammies. The day after Christmas is just one of those days when it is wonderful to NOT go anywhere or do anything. We slept late, stayed in our jammies, and didn't even go outside, at least not yet. I suppose I'll probably go out to get the mail but that's it. The husband will be back late tonight, and tomorrow we'll be back to going out doing things, but for today it's nice to just hang out at home. The little dudes got some Christmas money that is burning a hole in their pockets and they can hardly wait to go out and spend it. I'm making them save a bit of it though, mean mom that I am.

As for New Year's....I always make resolutions. It gives me hope. But they're generally pretty open-ended and not specific, so I don't feel like a failure if I haven't dropped 20 pounds by March. I want to: continue to make my faith an ever bigger priority and set a good example for my kids, continue to make my fitness a priority and work towards losing a few pounds and training for a few races, work on getting my impulse spending under control (I am SO BAD), continue educating myself so I can be an advocate for my firstborn and help him cope with his ADHD issue, spend less time futzing around and wasting time online (such a time stealer!) and just generally try to be a better person than I was yesterday. These are the things I work on all the time, but New Year's is as good a time as any to recommit to it.
The little dudes and I will stay up till midnight and probably watch a movie, then watch the ball drop.

Here's hoping and praying that 2009 will be a better year than 2008 was, that our country can begin to turn the downward spiral around (in more ways than one), that our world might become more peaceful and less scary, and that people can treat each other with dignity and respect. Peace, love and prosperity for all. Naive little optimist, aren't I? :)

Reliving high school

2008-12-01T21:46:00.003-05:00

No, maybe I should call it "reliving middle school' because that is about as mature as this stupid mess is.

Somehow, because I chose the wrong person to confide in, and she in turn felt free to share my personal pain with half of the world and I've become neighborhood gossip, I seem to have lost some friends. It's a giant case of "she said, she said," and I'm really only indirectly involved. I confided in someone who I thought was a good friend, and she obviously didn't have those same thoughts about me. So she told two friends, and they told two friends, and they....

So. People know this really private information about me from the worst time of my life, and somehow I'M the bad guy. Without going into excruciatingly boring detail that is too complicated for daytime TV, I have lost the confidence betrayer (not much of a loss, but it still sucked to find out that she was not my friend), the confidence betrayer's sister (who was also a good friend, or so I thought) and the one that is killing me, and confusing me the most, is my neighbor and someone I truly thought of as a dear, dear friend, C. I cannot for the life of me figure out why C is not talking to me. I know how she is involved in the entire mess, but I cannot draw the line from point A (the situation) to point B (being upset enough with me to stop speaking to me).

I've known C for six or seven years. I tried to be a friend and be there for her through different things....when her oldest son wanted to join the military, I talked with him, and drove him to see his recruiter when she couldn't, talked to her, hugged her and cried with her when her husband was diagnosed with cancer, cried with her when he passed, ran interference for her when her younger son flirted with the military and she was afraid he was about to be taken in by an unscrupulous recruiter, encouraged my husband to buy her husband's motorcycle after he died, because she couldn't stand to look at it in her garage and she needed the money......not because I am SuperFriend, but because I love her and I am her friend. And now, because of some mean spirited talk, she isn't returning my emails or my calls.

Girls can be so mean to each other.

I need a hug today

2008-11-09T17:50:00.002-05:00

It's been one of those days.

Took the offspring to church this morning while I taught my preschool age PSR (parish School of Religion) class. Catholic Sunday school. Broke a nail which sounds ridiculous, but it hurt like HELL. I'm trying real hard with PSR, but I'm just not a teacher and I don't think I'm doing all that well. I'm a mom, but frankly I'm not that good with groups of little kids. I'm trying though.

After PSR, took the boys to Blockbuster and rented them two Wii games, plus two movies, and asked for some peace and quiet to get my schoolwork done. Heh. Might as well have asked for the moon and the stars. After about the fifth fight (which they held here, in the computer room, so that I could hear and see every detail) I lost it. Hollered and swore, and then for good measure, the littlest got his butt smacked. Then I felt like crap. And I still didn't understand my econ homework :( I bombed the stuff I tried to do today. I still have to finish the assignment by 11:00 tonight. Ugh.

Meanwhile, the husband is off enjoying sunny shores and scuba diving, visiting the oldest offspring. I don't begrudge him his hobby and his relaxing time, we all need it. And I don't begrudge him time spent with B. I just wish it wasn't so tough to manage the boys by myself. Six days isn't that long, but they've been off from school THE. WHOLE. TIME. When do I get my relaxing time? School is never going to be over. Ever.

I just need a hug. Or a frozen margarita. With a little salt and lime.

A much better writer than I

2008-11-06T15:50:00.002-05:00

summed it up this way. Some foul language follows.

"Watching the Obama supporters last night, with tears streaming down their faces, their screaming, clapping, dancing and fainting, I have to admit I was a bit emotional myself. I appreciate what this means to African Americans, you could see it on their faces. Juan Williams cried through his whole commentary.

And as far as the DNC now controlling all three branches?
Gird your loins my friends, gird your loins.

And, as opposed to an Obama presidency as I am, I still hold dear, and respect and value the Office of the Presidency, the symbolism of that office. These kinds of things make me weepy, as does the National Anthem. I cant help it.

And, although many of you might disagree, I am not bitter, or angry. I am just interested, opinionated, and involved, and I supported and voted for someone else. But as much as I can understand what this means to his supporters, it is unfortunate that what this year meant to those who supported Hillary Clinton or John McCain and Sarah Palin, wasnt understood.

I'd like to say that I think Obama transcended race, and is truly a new kind of Politician. But, then I remember the number of times people who opposed him were called racist. I can't forget the Clintons painted as racists, her supporters, then Palin, and McCain themselves, as well as their supporters. I can't forget the number of times I was called racist on my blog, or online from the very first day.

I'd like to say that as I watched Michelle on stage last night, that I felt pride that she will be our first African American First Lady. But, I can't forget the times she said she was for the first time, proud of her country. A country that afforded her an Ivy League education, a country where her family prospered and excelled. I can't forget her saying that America is a mean country. I can't forget when she said that she would have to think long and hard before she would support Hillary, should she be the nominee. I can't forget when she said that *if you can't run your own house, how can you run the White House*, such an affront to women everywhere.

I'd like to say, as I watched those adorable two girls on the stage last night, the opportunity that lies ahead of them, and all young women. But then I couldn't help think of the attacks on the children of Sarah Palin. I couldn't help think of the attacks on her, her 17 year old daughter, and Hillary Clinton, and her female supporters. I can't forget the public acceptance of the effigy of Sarah Palin, or the Clinton Nutcrackers, or the 'Sarah Palin is a c*nt' t-shirts, or the many, many sexist attacks. I couldn't help remember the nasty comments coming from the left that she should have aborted Trig.

I'd like to say, as I watched the supporters, running through the streets celebrating, that they deserved it, that they worked hard, and put up an honest fair political fight. That they just wanted it more. But then I couldn't help think of the personal attacks on me, from the day I typed *I support Hillary*. I can't forget the anonymous personal attacks, and death threats and worse, left on my blog, for discussing the race. I couldn't help but watch the crowd, and think, are they someone who called me a whore or a racist c*nt? I can't forget the caucus fraud that was witnessed all over the country in the primary. I can't forget the attacks on African Americans who didn't support Obama. I cant forget that someone told Soldier4Hillary that they hoped she died in Iraq, because she supported Hillary. I couldn't help think of the Black Panthers I saw, in Philadelphia standing in front of the polling place, threatening voters. I can't forget the death threats on Tavis Smiley for criticizing Obama. I can't forget the Super Delegates who received death threats for supporting Hillary.

I'd like to say as I watched Hillary and Bill cast their vote yesterday that I believe they supported Obama. But, I can't forget what Hillary said during the primary, questioning Obama on Rezko and Ayers, and Wright. I can't forget the constant insults from Obama about the Clinton presidency, and Hillary personally, and professionally. I can't forget Biden, Edwards, Dodd, and more, tell the American people that Obama is not ready, and not tested. I cant forget his refusal to release his Senate records, his college transcripts, or his passport.

I'd like to say, as I saw Obama standing there last night, in front of a wall of American flags, giving his speech, that he truly loves America, and is a man of his word. But I can't forget his excuse for not wearing the Flag pin, and then his political expediency in wearing it. I can't forget the photo of him not placing his hand over his heart during the National Anthem. I can't forget the photo William Ayers standing on the American flag. I can't forget his refusal to release his birth certificate, something that was demanded of McCain.

I'd like to say, as I watched Obama vote for himself as President yesterday, that I appreciated what an out of body, overwhelming experience that must have been, the pride and excitement he must feel. But, then I saw William Ayers go into the same polling booth, as did Farrakhan. I was reminded of what Obama did early in his career, to get to this point, who he considered appropriate to associate with, to befriend, and to partner with to further his political career. I can't forget how he exposed his opponents in Chicago, and personally attacked them, to get them removed from the ballot. I can't forget how he ran his Chicago Districts and his dealings with Rezko, and the state of despair his districts are in. I can't forget that he didn't leave that church.

I'd like to say that I watched him walk to the podium, to give his acceptance speech that he worked so hard, and that he earned this. But I can't forget what little he has actually accomplished. Yes, he ran a good campaign, he worked harder campaigning then he has ever held a job. I can't forget all the articles I have read, about his start in the Chicago Senate, and how he was handed bills, to further his career, how his mentor carried him, made himself a Senator. I can't forget the articles I read how Obama would catch Dodd or Kennedy in the halls and cling to them as they went to present bills, and adding himself to their accomplishments. I can't forget that he has campaigned longer then he has actually served in the Senate. I can't forget how he himself said, in 2004 that he was not ready.

I'd like to say, as I saw him standing there, that the people have spoken, and the best man won. But, I can't forget the thousands and thousands of fraudulent voters registered, the buses of homeless and drug addicts that were driven to the polls. I cant forget the Obama supporters who have been caught voting twice, the people on the streets saying they voted multiple times, the overseas ballots that have been tossed out. Those four delegates. I cant forget the actions of the DNC and how they treated the Clintons. I cant forget the efforts to shove Hillary Clinton from the race.

I'd like to say that as I saw him standing there, and even as I listened to him, and was moved to tears, that he deserves it. I couldn't help think of the man that did not win. A man who has courageously served his country since he was 17 years old. A man who fought, and almost died for his country. A man who spent five years in a prison in Vietnam, at the same time one of Obama's neighbors and friends was bombing the Pentagon, and Capital. I couldn't help remember that Obama gave a book review to Ayers, whose other book was dedicated to the man that murdered Robert Kennedy.

I'd like to say that, although my candidate lost, I trust that Obama will follow through with his promises. But I can't forget the broken promises he has already made, and the lies that he has told - looking into the eye of the American people. I can't forget the sliding numbers for his tax cuts.

I'd like to say that as I was watching McCain give his concession speech, that he lost after a good fight. But I can't forget that McCain couldn't even fight. His every move, every attempt to put up a good fight was chastised in the media, screams of racism were thrown at him. Even having to fight his own party. As I watched Sarah Palin standing behind him, I couldn't help think how close we were to having a woman in the White House. As I watched her fight back her tears, I couldn't help think of all that she has accomplished in her life, being only two years older then me. I can't forget all the disgusting insulting attacks thrown at her, and how she stayed strong. I can't forget all of the attacks coming from so called feminists, and how far this election has set us back, as women. And apparently, we really have not gone that far. I can't forget members of her own party calling her a cancer. I can't forget the attacks on her and her family, a sitting Governor who has served the people of Alaska, who was asked to join the Republican ticket. The respect I felt for McCain and Palin standing there, moved me to tears. He is a true American Hero, and his service to his country should never be forgotten. I can't forget the attacks I have read, from the left, on his service.

I'd like to say that Obama is truly a man who was supported by the American people. But I can't forget the broken promise to accept campaign finance. I can't forget the millions of dollars of overseas money he has illegally accepted, the millions he has had to return, the unchecked prepaid credit card donations. And his refusal to release the donor list. I can't forget the millions he has raised and spent, and the promise he broke to get there.

I'd like to say that Obama will be for all people. But can't forget the personal attacks on Joe the Plumber and anyone who opposed Obama. I can't forget his pandering to Christian Conservatives in some states, including the gay bashers, his opposition to gay marriage, or his refusal to speak out against the sexist attacks on Clinton and Palin. I can't forget that Obama pays his female employees less than the men. I can't forget his double talk regarding Israel. I can't forget his is associations with Farrakhan, Wright, Khalidi, Meeks, Moss, Dohrn, Ayers, ACORN.

I'd like to say that Obama will help the economy. But I cant forget his share of the responsibility in the collapse of Fannie Mae/Freddie Mac. I can't forget all of the experts telling us how his spending and proposals are going to add trillions in more debt. I can't forget that he is second only to Dodd, in his two short years in the Senate, for taking money from them.

I'd like to say, as I watched the members of the media praise him, and talk about what a great story this is, that I think it is. But I can't forget the attacks that they launched on Hillary Clinton, Sarah Palin, their supporters, and Bill Clinton as well. I can't forget their utter failure to do their job, to report the facts, not to create the story. I can't forget their complete and utter bias. I can't forget their cover ups, and failures to vet this candidate. I can't forget their personal attacks on an average citizen.

I'd like to say that this proves that America is not racist. But I can't forget that 95% of the African Americans voted for Obama. For half of the country, their opposition to Obama was not about race. It was his judgment and his character. It was his policies. And for conservatives, it was everything he and his party stands for. White Americans, Democrats, embraced him. He won cross over votes. But those who didn't vote for him didn't do so because of his skin color. But those who did?

Id like to believe that when Obama said that *out of many, we are one* that were true. But for those who did not support him, from the first days of the primary, were told to for example *keep the f*ck out of my country* were treated anything but.

I do understand what this means to his supporters, to African Americans, and to people around the world. I do. As I said, I could see it in their tear streamed faces. And it saddens me that I cant share gleefully in this moment in history.

As much as I want to welcome this idea of change, this new age of politics, this giant step for mankind, this great leap of faith, this huge movement forward in race relations in America, I just can't forget how we got to this day.

Will Obama live up to *the promise*? As they say, time will tell.

OK, I admit it

2008-11-05T14:03:00.003-05:00

I was wrong.

Dead wrong.

That sucked, but now it's over. I didn't want Obama to be the next president, but he is. I wanted (and truly thought) it would be a close race. But it wasn't.

I can't seem to shake the feeling I have of impending doom. The husband thinks I am being a tad dramatic, and maybe I am. But a good friend of mine and I were talking today, and she burst into tears, speaking out loud some of the things I have been thinking. So, I'm not the only one. It's not just disappointment, because frankly, I was never in love with McCain as a candidate, but he represented the best chance to make Obama wait a few more years before moving in to the White House. It goes beyond feeling disappointed because I wasn't backing the winner. I guess I can't put my finger on it, but I feel little like Chicken Little. People bought into the hype and his promises, and I have serious doubts as to whether there is any substance behind his style. I think Joe Biden was absolutely right when he said that Obama will be tested shortly after he takes office. I pray to God that he really does have steel in his spine, because he hasn't shown any yet. You don't get to vote "present" when your country is under attack. And Biden has been consistently wrong, so the VP gives me no warm fuzzy.

I hope he proves me wrong again. Because I don't see much of anything good coming out of an Obama presidency. The world is all excited that we've turned a corner in race relations. Yippie. I'm sick to death of, and offended to the core by, insinuations that I am a racist because I didn't vote for him. Like I can't think or see beyond the color of his skin. Bullshit. I'm some of kind racist, bigoted, neocon, religious zealot, because I believe that life begins at conception, and I believe that we are all responsible for our own bottom line, not waiting in the welfare line for a government handout. Take some responsibility for yourself, and your own choices and your own actions. Don't just stand there and wait for the government to help you out. Bigger government isn't the answer, it's the problem. It's a cliche but I believe it....a government big enough to give you everything you want, is powerful enough to take away everything you have.

I'm furious with Republicans, because they have dropped the ball, but at least they didn't lose all their Congressional seats. Republicans have no one to blame but themselves. They've had their chance to make things better and they haven't but the Democrat controlled Congress has even lower approval ratings than President Bush. People say that this country is already socialist in terms of taking from the rich (taxes) and giving to the poor (welfare). Well, of course I can only speak for myself here, but I don't want one single dime that I haven't earned. I'm in a good place right now, but I haven't always been. I've been dead broke. Totally dependent on my family and friends for a place to sleep sometimes. Did I cry about how awful and unfair the world was? Did I get in line for welfare and food stamps? No. I got off my ass and got a job. And then another one. I worked two and sometimes three crappy jobs to scrape together enough to get by. Then I did the best thing I'd ever done to that point in my life....I signed on the dotted line to put on the uniform. And that was when things started turning around for me. I have zero problem paying my fair share and I have no problem helping those less fortunate than me. Let ME be the one to decide who, how much, and how often.

Winston Churchill said it well : the inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings. The inherent vice of socialism is the equal sharing of misery.

Communism and socialism don't work. Ask the Russians. If those type of systems are so great, why are not more of the most successful, most powerful nations on earth jumping on the bandwagon?

I bet the Second Amendment will be the first to go. The husband was half-jokingly talking about buying a couple more guns before they are outlawed and today I told him he better hurry.

The race for 2012 has just started. Let's hope Conservatives can offer something a little better this time around.

You know....

2008-11-03T08:49:00.003-05:00

tomorrow is election day. I m optimistic but I am also a realist. I believe the race is going to be closer than people think, in the end, but I am hopeful that Barack Obama is not our next president. I don't really put too much stock in polls. People say one thing and do another all the time. People don't want to be seen as racist so they will pretend to support Obama when they are really undecided or if they just don't like him for whatever reason.

I can admit when I am wrong. It's difficult but I can do it. If Obama gets elected, and proves me wrong in what I believe he is all about, in what his plans are for this country, I will be the first to admit it. I am well aware that there is a very good chance he may be the next President, but it's not a done deal yet. I am, however, a little afraid of the reaction of some groups of people if their candidate is not the winner. Passions have run really high in this election, and people are less inhibited about letting their passions rule their actions.

Speaking of being able to admit when I am wrong, I'll admit that I was starstruck by Sarah Palin. I am less excited about her than I was when she first burst onto the political scene, but I still think she is a damn sight better than Joe Biden. Joe Biden needs to go back to high-school sophomore year History class, and learn a few things before he spouts off. Yeah, he's got all this experience and is considered a subject matter expert on foreign policy but he's been wrong on most of it. Sarah Palin is a politician. I got so excited about her because she is someone who could be your kid's best friend's mom. She might be in the next pew at your church. She might be the woman you struck up a conversation with in line at Target. She seems very down to earth, very accessible, and it's a nice change from elitist politicians who don't drive themselves to Starbucks, let alone drive themselves to work every day. Yes, of course the leader of the free world needs to be more sophisticated and educated and experienced than the average mom at Target. But that is the beauty of being VICE President. Yeah, in theory, she needs to be able to step up to the plate at any given moment. But it hasn't happened that often in history that the VP had to take over, and in the meantime, she has the invaluable opportunity to learn at the President's right hand.

Like her or not, you have to admit she is a politician, a good one, and a quick study. She may not have the years of experience (neither does Obama) but she does have the intestinal fortitude to step up and get things done. And neocon rightwing nutjob that I am, I agree with many of her conservative ideals.

Anyway, I would MUCH rather have John McCain as my Commander in Chief than Barack Obama. If Obama becomes the President, I will watch and listen carefully, and I will respect the office just like I did when Bill Clinton was President and I was wearing the uniform. It isn't wise to be a one-issue voter, and I don't think I am, but it's tough not to view politics through the lens of military service. It's part of who I am, and I can't separate it.

A note about third party candidates. I like Bob Barr, and I agree with much of what he says he stands for. But he, frankly, hasn't got a snowball's chance in hell of winning. I've been wrestling with the question of whether I vote my conscience or do I vote against Obama. Sadly, for me, this election has come down to the choice of who I dislike the least. I have a healthy dislike for Obama, so I guess I'm not voting for him. I like McCain better, but I don't love him. I like Bob Barr the best, I think, but until third parties get a better foothold in this country, to vote for one is purely symbolic, since there's so little chance of a third party victory. I dislike Obama enough that I am not willing to simply make a statement this time around. I want my vote to mean something, and what I want it to say is, I don't want Barack Obama to be President.

Still feeling down, different reasons

2008-10-20T10:01:00.002-04:00

I'm still feeling kind of down...a few days ago, it was over the loss, or more accurately, the realization of the loss of what I thought were two good friendships. Today I'm feeling down over our decision to put the oldest offspring on meds for ADHD. I have really mixed feelings about it. I feel certain that he needs something to help him but I thought if we worked hard enough at it, we wouldn't need to take meds. I am feeling like it is a result of things I've done, or failed to do, as a parent. Logically, I know that isn't true but it sure feels like I failed him somehow, that he needs meds.

I hit the wall last week, when he had gotten in trouble at school and lost recess time for not only that day, but next day as well. I asked him what happened, and when the story came out, I sort of lost it. He was behaving totally inappropriately, and doing things that will not be tolerated, nor should they be. When I asked him why he made the choice to do things he knew he shouldn't do, he couldn't answer me. Now, in all fairness, he was probably at least a little scared by that point because the volume was seriously raised in our conversation. Maybe I overreacted and maybe I didn't, but the fact remains that he did some things that could end up in him getting in a lot of trouble, and I don't want to diminish that reality for him. I WANT him to be a little scared of getting in trouble, and scared of crossing the line.

So, I have a call in to the pediatrician, who will prescribe the meds. We'll go for a consult as soon as we can get in. On the one hand, I feel resigned and maybe a little relieved. On the other hand, I feel like I failed. But I'm not really conflicted about whether to start the meds. I feel now, that if I don't do it, I'd be withholding treatment for him. I've been feeling like maybe I'm just too lax with him, and haven't been as good at guiding him and setting up structure as I should have been. But maybe, even if I'd been a drill sergeant with him, it wouldn't have mattered. Parenting, good or bad, doesn't really change brain chemistry does it?

What I need to do it stop feeling sorry for myself and for him and get on with doing what needs to be done. It could be so much worse....I'm not taking him to dialysis or chemo twice a week, for crying out loud. The poor kid is already something of a square peg. I know too well what it feels like to be the oddball in a given group, and I so don't want my kids to have to feel like that. As a parent it is difficult to see your child struggle, and although you know that challenges and struggles build character and make us who we are, you also know it sucks to struggle and you want to make things easier for your kid.

He'll come out ok....he'll learn to cope and maybe he'll always need meds and maybe he won't. But he will be just fine, and he'll be stronger for the challenge. I've always viewed him a little sensitive and not as tough as his brothers. But he's always surprised me too, with how well he adapts and handles things. This is so totally my issue and not his. Come on, Mom, put on your big girl pants and deal.

Letting go

2008-10-15T14:07:00.002-04:00

It's hard to let go.

After much hemming and hawing, and hoping for a different outcome, I have come to the decision (or maybe I have just seen that the decision is already made for me) that I have to let go of what I thought were two good friendships. I've written about this situation here before, but like a high school girl with her first heartbreak, I kept looking for crumbs of hope. I saw a returned email as evidence that the friendship didn't have to be over.

But, alas, I got my heart broken in high school, and in the end, I had to let go. Just as I have to now. I am really going to miss her. I already do. We haven't spoken in person since July, and I last got an email from her a month or so ago. In the email she was chatty, almost sounding like normal. I responded to that email and never heard back. I sent one a week or so ago, and nothing. The other good friendship that I seem to have lost, is with this girl's sister. The three of us were friends and I don't know if it is collateral damage but the sister isn't talking to me either.

I've been debating about whether to cut one last tie, a group that they invited me to join. I think I am going to bow out. There is nothing to be gained from forcing myself where I am not wanted, and making everyone else in the group uncomfortable too. I can only hope that the acquaintances I've made through them won't fall by the wayside too.

I've done what I can do repair the friendship but I have no control over her response, or lack thereof.

I"m just really sad about it.

Found on a message board

2008-10-09T13:21:00.002-04:00

I found this on a message board/forum today and thought it was fabulous. I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I am in a very good place now, but I have been totally broke, totally jobless and had to depend on the kindness of my family and friends (who eventually got sick of it, and rightfully so) to have a place to sleep at night. And this was in the early 90's!! You remember, the good years. You know what? I had to quit whining, get off my butt and get a job. And then another job. Yeah, it sucked. But whose job is it to take care of you? YOURS. Not the government's. Home ownership isn't a right. A college education isn't a right. I'm no Constitutional scholar, but I am pretty certain there relatively few things guaranteed therein, among them "life, liberty and the PURSUIT of happiness." You have to go get it. It isn't issued by the government.

My admiration to the author (whose screen name and email have been removed) :

"I do love my country--I love the principles it was founded upon and I love being a woman in these days here. I don't necessarily love all aspects of my government nor all the citizens of this country. I heard a local DJ say yesterday that there was a poll in the Wall Street Journal that said 59% of Americans said if they could, they'd throw out all members of Congress. Maybe I misunderstood where the poll was, as I didn't find it online. However, I have to say that I agree with the sentiment. Both parties sold us down the river on this bailout and as Alec Baldwin said, they should be ashamed.

As far as Americans go--they want a candidate of any party that will pat them on the head and say "those lenders were predatory, it's not your fault". The hell it's not! I don't disagree there was predatory lending, nor do I disagree that Congress forced banks years ago to lend to people that weren't credit-worthy so that everybody got to realize their dream of home ownership. That was stupid and yes, Congress is again accountable--but so are the individuals! I have never heard of a bank president forcing somebody to sign a loan document at gunpoint. If you earned $30k and got a loan for $400k, that's on you. If you're living paycheck to paycheck (at best) and charging restaurants and vacations, that's on you, too. I am sick of fiscally irresponsible individuals that want and want and want because they're "entitled to it". They are greedy consumers whose wants are greater than their income.

Many of America's citizens have turned into a bunch of lazy whiners and pussies with a mantra of "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme". There was a somewhat long emailed question in the debate last night from a woman that lived through the depression. Her final question was something like "What does the government think we should give up?" I have a great deal of admiration for the people of my grandmother's era that lived through the depression. They had the intestinal fortitude and the ambition to do what needed to be done in order to survive and have necessities. America's current couch potatoes couldn't hold a candle to those folks--they're too worried where their next Whopper is going to come from. We have candidates whom are being judged by these people on who will give them the best "gimmes". We have the modern day Robin Hood who wants to steal from the most productive and redistribute income to the least productive. Keep your "change" and your "fairness" and kiss my a$$! I will happily pay my share of taxes, obviously the expensive war included, but I don't feel like paying somebody else's share just because I can. And to Sen. McCain, who wants to buy bad homeowner mortgages, a special "salute" to you too, for not only rewarding fiscal stupidity, but laying it on the backs of the responsible taxpayers that didn't cause the problem.

Wake up, people! Make your OWN life. If your expenses are greater than your income, you either need to cut expenses or increase income (i.e., another job). Our parents and/or grandparents weren't too proud, nor did they feel it was beneath them to have 2nd or 3rd jobs for their necessities. They didn't go on vacations c/o Uncle Mastercard or Aunt Visa. In addition, maybe it's not the right time for you to have that new baby, puppy, or new car as they're not cheap. Honestly, what right do you have to suck off the tit of the most productive? You aren't entitled to health insurance or a living wage. The first is a commodity that you purchase through an employer or on your own and the second is something you earn. Hint: McDonald's is for teenagers to learn responsibility unless you are on a management track. If you love flipping burgers, that is wonderful--but don't expect to live on Park Avenue. That's the way it is. Have some pride, pull yourself up, and stop expecting a damned handout on the tab of other Americans. Signed, Sick and Tired"

Daddy's boy

2008-10-09T13:00:00.002-04:00

My youngest son was leaving with my husband today, to go run a couple of errands. He's a total Daddy's boy. Total.

He gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye, and I asked him, "Hey little man, why don't you want to stay home with Mom while Daddy goes?" and he responded, "I love you Mommy, but I like Daddy better."

Little creep. I wonder why it is that your child can break your heart like no one else can?

I'll get over it, though. In fact, I already have. Because I have the whole house to myself, peace and quiet all afternoon :)

In the company of heroes

2008-09-29T22:02:00.009-04:00

Wow. There's just no other word for it.

I just got back last night from the coolest TDY (temporary duty) in the history of the world. I went to the final organized reunion of the WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots). Their membership is down since many of them have passed on, or have simply gotten too old or too sick to attend reunions. The youngest WASP is 83 years old and receiving chemo treatments and is in a wheel chair. She was there this weekend, by the way.

What's that? You don't know who the WASP are? I'm so glad you asked. You know, women fly airplanes. They are perfectly capable and some women can do it a lot better than men. This is really not ground breaking news, but it used to be. In the early months of World War II, there was a massive shortage of military combat pilots. In time, the most well known American female pilot, Jackie Cochran, along with another accomplished female aviator, Nancy Harkness Love, was able to convince General Hap Arnold to train women to fly military aircraft. They argued that women were already licensed to fly, and if they got the same military training as men, they could fly military aircraft just as well. And since there was such a dearth of pilots, well, it just made sense. In 1942, their proposal was approved and in November of that same year the first class of WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) entered training in Houston, Texas. The training eventually moved to Avenger Field in Sweetwater, Texas. The last class of WASP graduated in December of 1944 and the WASP were disbanded 13 days after that last class graduated.

These women did everything but fly into combat. They towed targets for gunnery practice, they ferried aircraft, they flight-tested all the aircraft types in the inventory, instrument instructed, transported personnel and cargo, laid smoke, trained navigators and bombardiers, they flew drones, and the B26 and B29 to prove to the men that the aircraft were safe to fly.

Here's the thing, they were never considered military members. They were civilians. They didn't get any military benefits, or recognition, and their parents were denied a gold star in their windows. They weren't entitled to drape an American flag on their coffin. 38 of them died while serving their country and the government wouldn't even bring their bodies home. Their classmates took up collections to pay for bringing their bodies home and for their funerals and tombstones. Some still don't have headstones. That is just criminal. These women just wanted to fly, and they wanted to serve their country, and they didn't take "No" for an answer. General Arnold petitioned Congress to militarize the WASP but they denied his request. That's alright, though, the story gets better. Remember, these ladies wouldn't take "No" for an answer.

Finally in the late 1970's when the military aviation world was opened up to women again, lawmakers saw the contradiction in that situation....women were going to fly again, how could they deny veterans' status to those who paved the way? From 1944 until 1977, no woman set foot in a military cockpit. When the boys came home from war, they wanted their jobs back. To add insult to injury, when the WASP were granted military status, they were not invited to the signing ceremony. After that, it took seven years for their medals to arrive. They arrived in the mail. No recognition, no fanfare, no ceremony.

These women shared, and still share, a sisterhood that transcended time and distance. The bond of sisters (and brothers) in uniform is a strong one, and one you may not completely understand if you've never been in uniform yourself. It's even stronger for these ladies, for the challenges that they faced, and overcame, together. They get together every two years, and they come from all over the country. They hug and kiss, call each other sweetheart and they remember the details of their flights as if they happened last week instead of over 60 years ago. They love to talk with the female flyers of today and if you've ever listened to pilots talk, it's like they are in their own world.

I'm not a pilot. I don't really want to be one. I've tried learning to fly and I just do not have it in me. But I am a woman in uniform, and I used to wear the flight suit. I don't know what it was like for these ladies in the 1940's as they showed the guys, at every turn, that they had the right stuff. But I do know what it's like to be a girl in a flight suit, and to have the guys think you aren't as good as they are, on account of missing a Y chromosome. I met and had a chance to spend time with some of these awesome, awesome ladies and listen to some of their stories. It is truly inspiring to just sit at the same table as someone who did what they did, and the great thing about them is they don't want to be seen as heroes or pioneers. They were just some girls who loved to fly, wanted to serve their country, and wouldn't take "No" for an answer. Being with them made me want to go out and conquer the world, and it made think that I could.

And I have a couple of new friends, one a great gal who is nearly 90 years old and flew the B17 and the B24, among many others, in WWII. She invited me along with a good friend of mine, to visit her in the Pacific Northwest, anytime. My other new friend is this lady's loyal friend and companion. They said they'd take us for a walk around the lake by their house, and then we'd go to flight museum nearby. How cool is that?

Better late than never, they are finally getting some attention and some recognition. Some other women who won't take "No" for an answer are making sure that the legacy of the WASP does not just disappear. So many people still don't even know who they are or what they did. Hopefully that is changing, and will continue to change. There is a fabulous WASP archive at Texas Women University in Denton, Texas, and a traveling WASP exhibit will debut in November of this year, at the WIMSA (Women in Military Service for America) memorial in Washington DC.

Check out WASP on the Web and Wings Across America at www.wingsacrossamerica.org

I'm humbled and I'm awed by the things that they did, to open the door for me and millions of women like me, so that we too could wear the uniform, and fly in the service of our country. I was honored to stand up and salute them. My husband says I sound like a kid with a bad case of hero worship.

Yeah, I guess I do.

And another thing....

2008-09-23T13:07:00.001-04:00

...go read All Da King's Men. There is a link to this blog on the left side of the screen. Informative, yet entertaining too.

I did it!

2008-09-23T12:47:00.002-04:00

I ran my first half marathon. It's a huge deal for me, because I am the queen of starting things and not finishing. I told anyone and everyone who would listen, that I had signed up for the race and I was running a half marathon. That way, I'd HAVE to do it, or else I'd have to explain to umpteen people why I wussed out.

I got pretty nervous in the week leading up to it, and began thinking of lame excuses. Then I went for a 7.5 mile run, and honestly it wasn't that hard, and I thought, "Hey I can do this. Don't be such a skirt, put on your big girl running shorts and do it." So I did :)

I found a few people I knew at the start line and I ran the first three miles or so with a guy who works in the chaplain's office across the hall from me. He was a good running partner, we just chit chatted about this and that and before I knew it we were already at the first water station. But he was running the 10K and that route split from the half marathon route at about mile 3, so we high fived and wished each other well. I didn't need to walk until about mile 8. I took a short walking break, only a couple of minutes and got back into my pace.

I stopped to use the bathroom more than I should have needed to but with my stomach issues I didn't want to take chances. I drank water and gatorade at nearly every station, and they had some fruit just past my halfway point. Plus I had those jelly beans that are really candy but masquerade as energy food.

It got really hard at mile 10. I struggled for the last three miles and my legs felt like they weighed about a hundred pound each. I held my tension in my shoulders and I could feel like getting really, really heavy. But then with less than a quarter mile to go, I saw Matt and the kids and the boys were so cute....they had those silly cowbells that the race sponsors gave out and they were ringing those things and cheering for all they were worth. That was what I needed to haul my tired ass across the finish line, and down the chute to have a colonel who looked way too young to be a full bird colonel put a medal around my neck and congratulate me. I gave the medal to Lucas and he said he wanted to run with me next year. Seth....not so much.

But, I set a goal. I worked toward it (although, in the spirit of full disclosure, not nearly as hard as I should have) and I did it. It felt so good, once I got past the ache in my legs. Seriously from the top of my hip, all the way down to my ankle, the backs of my legs felt like rubber bands that were stretched too far. It hurt. Bad. But after a massage, a long hot bath, and a good night's sleep, I felt a lot better. I ran on Saturday, today is Tuesday and I still feel it just the tiniest bit in my calves.

I don't think I am aspiring to 26.2. Not yet at least. Maybe after I have a couple more halves under my belt.

OK, time to go and get my nails done. I'm going on the coolest TDY ever on Thursday, and it will go much better if I am within regs for not only my uniform but hair and nails and silly things like that.

Feeling very grateful

2008-09-16T19:57:00.002-04:00

Who'd have thought that you could get hurricane effects in the midwest? Not me, that's fur sure. When the weather report predicted high winds, I p'shawed them and went about my day.

Until I got home with the boys from the middle boy's baseball clinic. The flag that flies from the post on my front step was standing out straight and the pole was bowing a little bit. My hanging plants were lucky to be alive...all the blooms were blown completely off and the pots were flying around, barely staying on the hooks. I took down the flag and the pots and thought, a good day to fly a kite. Silly me.

Then I began to take it seriously when the glass top table on the deck flipped over and shattered.

We got so incredibly lucky, because that is as bad as it got. Much of the whole city is still without power and that was two days ago. My kids missed school yesterday and today, and they will be delayed tomorrow. Our power never flickered, thank the Lord. On our street there are at least two or three houses that have significant damage but we only lost a couple of shingles. A mile down the road, a giant evergreen tree is literally ripped up by the roots and is casually leaning against the light pole it fell on.

They say that four people were killed on Sunday because of the winds.

It's not anywhere near the devastation that is going on in Texas right now. But it's worse than we've seen around these parts in a long, long time. We just don't see that much extreme weather, of any kind. One of the reasons I like it here :) I'm praying for the residents of Texas that were so hard hit by Hurricane Ike, and I'm counting my blessings that all we lost was a table, and an umbrella.

And I'm still procrastinating finishing the article I'm writing. I promised my editor she'd have it in the morning and she will.....but that is hours away yet :)

Seriously?

2008-09-11T17:06:00.002-04:00

I just heard a fantastic sound clip today...some idiot in Congress comparing Barack Obama to Jesus Christ and Sarah Palin to Pontius Pilate.

He said that Barack Obama was a community organizer, just like Jesus Christ was, and that Pontius Pilate was a governor (the listener is left to draw their own conclusion about who he meant by that).

I laughed out loud. Come on.....Jesus Christ? And they say that conservatives are being snarky when they refer to Obama as "messianic." No, apparently they are just reporting how some people truly feel about Barack Obama. THAT, I find frightening, for real. Can they really not see him for what he is.....a man, human and fallible, just like any other man?

In other funny news, reading the local paper today, I could not help but notice these two headlines right next to each other in the Community Calendar : "W_______ County Young Republicans welcome Ohio Supreme Court Justice Evelyn Stratton" and then one column over "Jerry Springer to speak at W_____ County Democratic Party Meeting."

You can't make this stuff up!

Coming down

2008-09-08T09:42:00.005-04:00

I'm coming down off my Palin high a little. I don't like her any less, but I am looking at her more objectively and I still want to know more. From her. Not from political analysts, or pollsters, or bloggers. I'm anxious to watch her interview on TV this week. AND! AND! I am going to see her speak in my small town tomorrow!!! I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Full report to follow.

She gave an absolutely smashing speech at the convention but Obama gives great speeches too. Off the cuff, he sounds like he isn't sure what he is talking about. He hedges and uses vague terminology that can be bent to fit whatever perspective anyone wants to use it in. McCain is much better at "town hall" type exchanges where he can speak a little more off-the-cuff and depend less on a scripted speech and a teleprompter...he sounds passionless and robotic sometimes when he's more scripted.

Anyway, I digress. I'm anxious to hear a reporter ask her the tough questions and hear how she responds.

And I've been thinking a lot more about her conservative stances.....people don't like her because she advocates for abstinence only sex education in school (frankly I don't think that is very smart) and opposes abortion (I do too, but I have some fuzzy edges where it isn't all black and white to me). But seriously, think about this. How, as VP, would she get any of that actually legislated? She can't just cruise into the White House and start rewriting the law books. Ain't gonna happen, even if she wanted it to. I honestly don't believe Roe V. Wade will ever be overturned and even if it was, wouldn't that only turn the issue back over to each state to decide? It wouldn't shut down all the abortion clinics overnight, that's for sure.

I'm really perplexed at why people are slamming her so hard for her personal life decisions though. Lots of people (mostly women! Go figure) saying that she should have put off running for national office till her baby is older, till her daughter has her baby, till some other time in the future. They say that she was selfish to put her own ambition above the needs of her family. They say that her daughter would not be getting dragged through the media mudpile and wouldn't be the new poster child for teen pregnancy if not for her nomination, and that it was mean and uncaring for her to accept the nomination now. It isn't as if Bristol won't have the support of her family. She will still be living with her parents until she marries her fiance. If she doesn't end up marrying him then she will be a young single mother....lots of those around, doing a pretty decent job raising their kids. No, it isn't ideal, but real life seldom is. The First Dude has taken an indefinite leave from his job and is taking on the primary caregiver role at home. Yeah, it's unusual, but you know what? It's what feminists have been screaming about for years. And now that the dream has come true in a big way, they don't like it....because the woman holds conservative beliefs. They wanted to redefine what a "typical" American family looks like, and it sure has been. If a family can take care of their own needs, everyone is happy and healthy and reasonably well-adjusted, what does it matter whether mom or dad stays home? Who are we to judge how other people make their families work?

Why is no one asking if Obama can be a good father to his children if he is in the White House? His children are young and need their daddy too. He said it himself, that candidates' children are off limits and shouldn't be a part of our politics. Why did no one take Hillary to task for leaving Chelsea with nannies and sitters while she and Bill pursued their careers? I read a bio on Hillary, and it talked about Chelsea being at a young age, young enough to not pronounce all her words properly, and she was asked about her mom and what her mom did. She responded, "Mommy go make a 'peech." A little double standardish, in my humble opinion.

Why do people assume that a dad can't take just as good care of his children as mom does? It's "just not the same" for the husband to be at home with a special needs child? Oh please.

I am fine with how she takes care of her family. Now what I want to know is how are she and Mr. McCain going to help me take care of mine?

Can't we all just get along?

2008-09-02T21:10:00.002-04:00

Wow.

I never thought I would see the day when liberals and feminists would not like a particular candidate because she is a working mother and a successful professional woman. Seriously. They think she should be at home, taking care of her babies. Can't hack it in the workplace. And they're not subtle or even particularly civil about it. WTF?

And her husband, the First Dude, is getting slammed for being Mr. Mom. And here I thought we had made so much progress as a country with equalizing gender roles......

So, her 17 year old daughter is pregnant. Not such a good thing. But she's not taking the easy way out and "getting rid of the problem," and she plans to marry the father. I think that is a good thing, Neanderthal that I am. By media standards I am an ultraconservative, religious fanatic nutjob, because I am prolife, support Second Amendment rights and I practice my faith. So, I guess I'm embracing my inner nutjob! LIberals are going crazy in their blogs, and in the news, and on message boards about what a hypocrite, idiot and bad mother Sarah Palin is, because her daughter got pregnant.

Maybe the marriage will work out, maybe it won't. Maybe this will sink the campaign, maybe it won't. Maybe McCain would keel over his first week in office, maybe he wouldn't. Blah blah blahbeddy blah.

But what I really need to know is, why is this relevant? What does this pregnancy have to do with Palin is capable of? Even Obama came out and told the media to back off and that people's children are off limits. I have to say that I thought that showed a lot of class, and my respect for him as a person went up a notch or two. Won't vote for him but I still think he showed class.

Why are so many people foaming at the mouth over Sarah Palin? I really can't understand why so much unvarnished hatred. Conservative radio says it's because they are scared of her. Could be, I don't know. I was excited to learn more about her. I like most of what I read, some of it not so much. But she's human and therefore not perfect. Who among us is? I still like her better than anyone else on the ticket. You'd think, if she was such a bad choice, liberals would be high fiving all over the world, laughing and celebrating because McCain just sunk his campaign. Instead they are slamming her and her family in personal insults and generally spewing venom and hate.

Go figure.

In other news, I got an "A" in Philosophy and now have a month off till fall quarter starts. Go me! My spousal unit is going to see some changes at work, and I'm anxious to see how those changes affect us here on the home front. We've got some talking to do and he needs to figure out what he wants to do.

Leaning toward medicating the oldest offspring, because of a lot of different factors. We agreed to give it till the end of the first quarter of school and talk to Mrs. H, and see if we need to make a decision and take some action.

Guess that is about it for tonight.

I heart Sarah Palin (so far)

2008-08-30T09:54:00.006-04:00

Like most people, I spent much of yesterday listening to the news or watching when I could and I am floored by John McCain's VP pick. What I know of Sarah Palin, I really like and am very impressed with. There's just so much to say about it!

I think she was a good choice. The obvious fact of her gender is a definitely a nod to women voters but if McCain thinks people will vote for him because he chose a woman, any woman, I think he is wrong. However, THIS woman deserves a closer look, and I don't think it's fair to dismiss her out of hand as simply a token. She does have other things going for her. She may be new to the national political arena, but people have been saying that she is a rising star in the Republican party, even before the world exploded yesterday. I thought one quote was funny, I can't remember who said it, but they said it referring to her ability to be tough and go toe-to-toe with opponents. Someone said, "The landscape is littered with the bodies of those who have crossed Sarah." Now, to take it literally is a little frightening, but I think it's clear that it was meant metaphorically. I'm glad she's not afraid to stand up for what's important to her.

Choosing someone like Mitt Romney, while I've no doubt that he would be a good VP also, would just perpetuate the idea that the Republican Party is full of rich white men, who have no connection to life outside the Beltway. THAT ticket would have been more "same old, same old." At the very least, people are sitting up and taking notice.

I spent some time googling and looking up what I could about her, and what I found, I really liked. She is a staunch conservative who isn't afraid to take a stand on something she believes in (GOT to love that), she has showed she isn't afraid to buck the status quo when she took on her own political party and exposed corruption, she walks the talk and seems to show the courage of her convictions. People will say, "Oh but she has no experience! How can McCain pick on Obama for lack of experience and then choose someone like Palin who also has a fairly short political resume?" But there are a couple of differences I see, right off the bat.

First of all, she is running for VICE President....the #2 guy. Joe Biden himself said that the Presidency isn't something that lends itself to on the job training. But to be VP is a valuable opportunity to learn a lot in a pretty short time, not in the top spot. Yeah, McCain is older and has had health scares and maybe her chances of having to step up to the plate are higher. But Obama, with his 167 days in the Senate, most of which have been spent campaigning for higher office, is running for the #1 spot! With a resume that has at least as many holes in the experience column as Palin's! His VP would have to do a lot of the heavy lifting (or, on the job training) for him. So which is worse? Or to put a more positive spin, which is better? From some of the reading I've been doing, people in Illinois aren't all that impressed with his programs there and some of them seem to be failing, like the universal health care for kids. Which in theory is admirable, no one should have to watch sick kids suffer, but practice seems to be falling short.

And the time that she does have on her resume has been spent actually running an administration, making decisions, making things happen. She has an approval rating well into the 80% range. That's amazing, frankly. Not all that many politicians have ratings like that, especially in a short time. She must be doing something right in Alaska. I find it ironic that the Obama campaign has made nothing but snarky comments about her since the announcement broke. They made fun of her being a mayor of a small town. Never once gave a nod to the fact that she RUNS A STATE. She is the commander of the Alaska National Guard. Instead, Obama stood there and stuttered, "Uh, she, uh seems nice and uh, and smart enough..." and had his hitman spokespeople jab at her for him.

And MSNBC is an asshole. Under a "BREAKING NEWS" banner, they ran the headline,"How many houses does Palin add to McCain's total?" Are they for real? Breaking News, just to be snotty? The way things have gone at the Democratic convention, between things like this, the cops practically throwing a news reporter under a moving bus and demonstrators getting violent with Fox news crews, the Democrats are coming off looking like a bunch of thugs who only want free speech when they are the ones speaking.

Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I've never been a HUGE McCain fan. I'm impressed with his record and his heroism. As a 16-years-and-counting military member, I have an inkling of the dedication that goes along with service. But what he endured is unimaginable. That said, I'm not convinced that that experience qualifies one to be the president. His volatile temper is concerning and I am not with him on some of his ideas. As I have said, not 100% behind him. But I do think Sarah Palin can balance his campaign out in a positive way and if yesterday is any indication, she has the ability to really light people up. Maybe she can be a driving force to get people behind McCain.

She comes across like someone who could be your neighbor. Down to earth, raising kids in a wide range of ages (one of them being a special needs child), has some of the same concerns and worries that you and I do, accessible. She seems to be more "one of us" than McCain ever has. I don't dislike him or his wife at all, but I have a hard time imagining that they really know what it is like to wonder how you are going to put food on the table once the rent is paid. I think they are pretty far removed from that kind of reality. I know nothing about Sarah Palin's financial standing but it was reported yesterday that her husband (First Dude) earned a little less than $50,000 last year working for an oil company. That's not exactly riches beyond imagination. I don't know what a state governor makes to add to that, but if the President only makes around $400-450K, something like that, I'd guess a state governor makes significantly less. I say "only $400K" because I know that Bush, Obama, McCain and most of the rest of the suits have incomes (or had before entering the White House) that exceeded that $400K by A LOT. Triple it or quadruple it, at least.

Much remains to be seen, and I want to know more about Sarah Palin and exactly where she stands on more issues. She's clearly and unequivocally pro-life, she cuts taxes and wasteful spending, she supports Second Amendment rights, plus she is hot ;) But I want to know where she stands on things like immigration, military and national defense, and social programs like welfare reform. Just because I'm conservative doesn't mean I'm against welfare but we have to be reasonable about it. Make it more attractive and easier to get OFF of welfare than to have more babies to stay ON it.

She'll shake the race up for sure, no matter which way it goes. I was feeling quite cynical about politics in general lately and I hated that feeling. But now I'm more excited about the election.

The power of prayer

2008-08-27T22:07:00.005-04:00

I have always believed in the power of prayer, but the lesson was really brought home to me today.

I've been having some friend trouble lately. Someone who I thought was a dear friend, who was there for me and loved me without judging is showing herself to be someone other than that. And another so-called friend has been talking about me and betraying my confidences and it's really upsetting me. Last night I was really mad about it, and just feeling resentful and bitter, and just angry.

It was the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes this morning. And I thought, I don't want to spend all day being pissed off about this. There isn't anything I can do to change it and stewing over it isn't going to make it go away. So, I just said, "God please help me to forgive and not hold such anger in my heart. I don't want to be that person, holding a grudge. Please help me today." That was it....no long, drawn out strings of fancy words or anything, just a couple of simple sentences. Then I went on about my day.

I went to the office for a half day today, and on my way I stopped at the gas station to buy a cup of coffee. I MUST have coffee....I need it like an addict needs crack. So I'm in line to pay (in my uniform) and as the man in front of me is walking away, he says over his shoulder, "You're doing good things. It isn't much but your coffee is paid for. Have a nice day." I stood there dumbfounded for a second....that sort of thing has only ever happened once or twice when someone has thanked me for my service. So I put my hat on, grabbed my purse and chased him to his car. I just said, "That was a very kind thing you did and I appreciate it. Thank you." And I noticed on his car was a Vietnam veteran magnet. That made me feel so good. Good thing number one.

When I got to the office, it was just one of those days where everything you are working on falls into place perfectly and all my questions were answered, and everything I touched worked out beautifully. Good thing number two. I got a good amount of work done, and headed home. When I got to the house, I saw a box on the front porch, from FTD floral delivery. ??? What could it be? As it turns out, my friend and coworker Cathy and I were TDY (temporary duty) together last month and we happened to see this particular kind of plant, a Lucky Bamboo plant, and I commented on how cool I thought it was. Out of the blue, for no apparent reason, Cathy sent me a Lucky Bamboo, with the most awesome gift card that read, "If I had a flower for every time you made me smile and laugh, I'd have a garden to walk in forever. I hope this makes you smile." Good thing number three.

Then, after I left her a tear-stained voice mail, I opened my email to find several "I love you" notes from a couple of other friends. Good thing number four. Telling me that, although some people in my life don't seem to value me and my friendship, there are others who do.

Could I ask for any more confirmation that prayer works? No, God didn't stop a building from falling on me, but that isn't how He does things. But with these things that happened to me today, I feel like He set up surround-sound in my world to make sure I heard the message loud and clear.

Roger that.

Busy busy busy

2008-08-22T11:53:00.003-04:00

The older two offspring are now back in school and the little one starts on Monday. We went on our trip to Disney and had a great time. It's fun to go on vacation and always nice to get back home. People warned us about the weather in Florida, and I've been there many times before, but man that humidity will kill a person! Temps were about what you'd expect....mid to high 80's, but I seriously thought I might melt in the humidity. You would start sweating the moment you walked outside....oy.

But it was fun and well worth it. We ran into a family we know from church and school and had dinner with them one night which was fun, and when we got home we had a surprise waiting for us at the airport. My stepson, my oldest son that I did not give birth to, was waiting for us! We knew he'd be in town, and we just thought he'd be at the house, but he met us at the airport. We were all thrilled to see him. He's off to sunny skies and beaches for his next duty assignment. Jerk. Just kidding, it's pure envy speaking.

Today, as I happened to be out and about running around, I bumped into a dear friend of mine....who had the uncomfortable job of informing me that someone who I thought was a good friend that could be trusted, is telling other people very personal and private information about me. What a disappointment. I've had some trouble with some of my friendships lately and it has me wondering a couple of different things....A) am I that bad a judge of someone's character? and B) what am I doing wrong?

Sure, have your opinion of me and have your opinion of decisions I make and things I do, and even tell me about them, good or bad. But don't go telling other people who hardly know me intimate details of my personal life. REALLY personal. And don't sit in judgment on me, when you are just as human as I am. If I wanted my whole neighborhood to know every single personal detail of my life, I'd tell them myself. I'm upset and disappointed and feel betrayed. And I know that it's going to be tough to not say anything to the person who's talking about me, because telling them would open a whole other can of worms. Then she would know who told me and I'd get her in trouble. So very juvenile. But I'm not about to throw my friend under the bus, when she at least had the decency to tell me the truth. I trust her more than anyone else in the 'who-is-talking-about whom' game.

We're all human and we all have secrets and private regrets, things we wouldn't want everyone in the world knowing. Please, if someone trusts you with theirs, don't make it idle chit-chat with other people.

I should just be a hermit.

Considering a BIG change

2008-08-05T20:19:00.002-04:00

I had another drill this past weekend and I came away feeling no better than I did last week. My office (all two of us who work in it) is becoming rather drama-filled as of late. Drama that I didn't create, that has nothing to do with me and that I want no part of. I support my cohort and I know the truth of what happened but beyond that I want no part of it. There is a major power play going on and neither of us needs to be, nor deserves to be, taken down in it. And I found out that a good deal trip that I was supposed to be going on, I may not be able to go after all. I was supposed to be going to a historic event that is a truly once in a lifetime thing. I may still be able to go, but now I've been made aware that I'm on the B team.

ANYWAY.

With all that going on and the whole promotion issue I whined about in my last post, I got to thinking about what Chief M said to me last weekend....about the possibility of me going back to a previous career field in order to have a little upward mobility. I talked to the husband about it, and while it would definitely create some challenges, it's inside the realm of possibility. The likelihood is VERY small, but now that the idea is in my head, I catch myself thinking about it more and more. I'm considering going back to, or at least asking the question to see if I could go back to, flying. Several things would have to happen in order for it to be likely or possible, and there is no way to know now if those things are going to happen. And it would be a major challenge to work out the logistics of my going to school (months at a time) and my training time (at least a year). It's doable but as the husband pointed out, we'd have to hire a nanny for sure. And I'm not at all convinced I'd want to be away that much. Once I got further into the flying thing, I would have more control over when I was away, but at the beginning I'd be at the scheduler's mercy.

I have missed flying since the day I hung up my flight suit. I didn't really think that once the kids were here, that it was remotely possible to go back to it. Just the thought of being able to get on an airplane and do something fun and cool and useful and worthwhile.....is very exciting. I love what I do now, but frankly I am beginning to feel like, why bother trying so hard to do good work? No one really notices and no one really cares. I know, I know, there's more to work and a career than getting accolades and promotions, but come on people, throw me a bone! A little positive feedback, a little reward for a job well done. I don't need to be publicly petted and praised every time I show up for work, nor do I want that. But is there nothing in between?

Yeah, I'm still whining. And I'm still sort of mad at the husband. Nothing is going to change the thing I'm mad about, but I am feeling like he's kind of saying (without using these words) "I'm going to do what I want to do, and you need to just deal with it."

It's going to rain again tonight.

Ever have one of those days...

2008-07-28T09:13:00.005-04:00

...where you feel like you just can't do anything right? Yesterday was like that for me. I went to work and after a mercifully short and not terribly boring Commander's Call, I talked to the Command Chief who is the highest ranking enlisted person in my unit. He had given this lovely speech about how the enlisted ranks need to take care of their own, and look out for each other. He also talked a lot about doing what you need to do to get promoted, and how no one is looking out for your career as much as you are, that you are responsible for your own career. So I went to talk to him after the meeting and said, "Look, here's my situation." And I laid it all out for him. I've known him for a long time so I felt comfortable to sort of speak freely. I'm doing everything you are supposed to do, everything the leadership tells you to do, in order to get promoted. I'm WAY qualified and eligible for my next stripe. But because of the way manning is authorized for my office, I'm stuck in a place where I simply can't get promoted, unless someone (that would have to be the Commander) was seriously motivated to get me promoted. There would be some paperwork (OK, a ton of it) involved and perhaps a slight bending of the rules. Not outright illegal, just a slight bending.

A word on bending the rules, in a situation like this. Just about anything, and I do mean anything, is waiverable or negotiable. Anything. AND, I've seen situations where someone should have just been out on their ass, they broke the rules (BIGTIME) and got caught red-handed, and yet they not only stay in, they get promoted. So, tell me why someone who is doing everything right, going above and beyond and generally being well known as 'a good shit,' can't get promoted to save their life?

I digress. I have a whole list of accomplishments I can rattle off, and it seems to count for nothing in this instance. So I asked Chief, plain and simple, "Is there nothing that can be done to get me promoted? I'm doing everything you are supposed to do. Col G has said, 'Do A, B and C, and I will promote you.' Well, I've done A, B, C, D, and E, and I still can't get a stripe. Is there nothing? Seriously?" And he kind of shrugged and said that sometimes sacrifices had to be made. I then asked, "So am I correct in stating, my choices are to stay in the job I love and I'm really good at and never get promoted, or cross train (again) into some other career field that I don't like and am not as good at, to get the stripe?" He said he'd talk to the Commander but we'll see. He's a nice guy and he means well but I don't think he cares that much about whether I can get promoted.

It's just incredibly frustrating. I deserve the promotion. I've worked hard and done everything they said I had to do, and more. But at least I will be back in the office next weekend and hopefully seeing my face will remind him that he promised to talk to the Commander on my behalf. Oh, and on the heels of telling me there really isn't anything anyone can do, he told me, "Please don't leave the unit and go somewhere else." I wanted to say, "Don't put me in a position where I have no choice but to leave, in order to get a deserved promotion," but I felt like I had pushed him enough. There will be another opportunity to make that threat if I feel like I need to.

Then I found out that the math classes that I busted my ass to pass.....don't count toward an associate's degree granted through the military. When you originally come in, they tell you about this degree. It's SO EASY! It's FREE! All you need to do is have a pulse and fog a mirror and you will get a degree! Yeah. I talked to two people this weekend, griping about the unfair application of outside credits....one woman I work with is has a Masters degree, plus 15 hours of a doctoral program and that isn't good enough for the piddly military associate's. Another guy has an MBA and they said that his math credits don't count for the stupid military associate's. I mean, there are ways I can still get the degree and it is in fact free. But still! Math classes that count toward a degree from a nationally accredited college aren't good enough for this? BS! On the positive side of this is knowing, in general, how highly educated and motivated the enlisted force of today is :)

Then when I got home, the husband was in a bad mood...the ghosts of recent 'trouble in paradise' had come back to haunt him. My fault, because it was my mistakes that caused the trouble in paradise. Not to discount or belittle it. It's just that I thought maybe we were past the worst. And then he said he didn't want to talk about it, which is like waving a red flag in front of a bull, for me. Not talking about it is what got us to the low point in the first place. In fairness he later said that he just didn't want to talk about it right then. OK. Fair enough. But still. After the day I'd had, the last thing I felt like doing was going over all that again and apologizing again and just generally reliving it.

So it really was one of those days. I just couldn't find my butt with both hands. But today is a new day and I hope it's better. It's my last day before my second summer class begins. And it looks rainy.

What to do, what to do?

2008-07-24T09:46:00.002-04:00

You know what really bothers me? When someone wants to tell you their side of a story but won't let you have own perspective. I've been having a falling-out with someone I thought was a really good friend, and she has her side of what happened, but when I wanted to talk about my side, she was all, "I just need some space from this whole thing." Meaning, I don't want to listen to what you have to say.

I'm afraid she really means to end a friendship over what started out as a relatively small incident. Something happened a few months back, it bothered the both of us but neither of us said anything about it. I, of course, can only speak for myself, but I got over it. Yeah, I was hurt, irritated, upset, whatever....and then, I got over it. But it felt to me, like my friend was beginning to avoid me, end phone calls a little quicker, things just didn't feel the same. We got together less and less, but we did get together a few times, and when we hung out I thought we were ok. I don't know what happened. She says she felt a "hurt vibe" from me on the phone and it was just heavy and hard to get past, so she stopped returning my calls. Well, I don't know that it is unreasonable to be hurt when your friend just stops talking to you....is it? So I'm hurt, she's uncomfortable with it and doesn't want to or can't address it so she deals by avoiding me, leading to more hurt....see where I'm going with this?

You can't make someone be friends with you, or talk about something they don't want to or can't deal with. But come on. Let's put on our big-girl panties and get it on the table. Is one uncomfortable conversation just too high a price to pay for a friendship? I love her, I truly do....but I'm not the only one who bears responsibility for the health of the relationship. I've done what I can do. I've apologized for my part, I've told her how I feel, I've accepted my share of the blame.....and I did it without anger, or bitterness, or nastiness. I calmly spoke my piece. She asked for space and I'll give it to her, but I am worried that we've already had our last conversation. We live near each other and will likely cross paths again at some point. But how sad, really.

So last night, I went out with some other friends, drank too many beers, and hooted and hollered at karaoke night at a local sports bar. It helped to laugh and relax, and realize that even if she doesn't want to be friends with me anymore, there are still people who do. I'll be sad and I'll miss her, but it is her choice. I have to let her make it.

Pot, meet kettle

2008-07-15T15:53:00.002-04:00

I've been reading a little bit about this political cartoon/satire that was recently on the cover of The New Yorker magazine, that depicts Barack and Michelle Obama fist-bumping in the Oval Office, with the American flag burning in the fireplace under a picture of Osama bin Laden. Barack is dressed in what looks like a turban and Middle-Eastern/Islamic looking robes (or something like that) and Michelle looks all radical with a giant Afro and a machine gun slung over her shoulder. People are FURIOUS about it. Or at least pretending to furious and offended by it.

Personally, I think it's kind of funny and it obviously reflects what some people's perceptions might be. I think it's closer to the truth to say that it is obviously overdone and exaggerated.

But here's my question : why is it OK to make fun of (by way of vicious bumper stickers, tshirts, cartoons, a countdown calendar for pete's sake) George Bush or John McCain or Dick Cheney or Karl Rove or whoever the right-wing target might be, and it's NOT OK to poke a little fun at the other side? Who can dish it out but can't take it? Come on, put on your big boy pants and deal with it.

This is why I am really beginning to despise American politics. It's all about posturing and pandering and not at all about doing anything useful.

Feeling kind of down today

2008-07-06T20:45:00.003-04:00

And I'm not sure why. Not that it really matters why, but I've been in a funk all day. The husband got home this morning (flew a red-eye home) and we haven't done much today. I was in such a mood that I didn't feel like going to church today, and that is sort of saying something.

This sounds terribly vain and I guess it is, but I think maybe part of the reason for feeling down is that I have been gaining weight and I know it. Whether they will admit it or not, most people have a 'magic' number in their heads that, if they see it on the scale, they go,"Good Lord, that's HUGE.' Or, in my case, I said to myself, "Good Lord, I'm getting FAT.' The magic number is like the upper limit of acceptable. This morning when I weighed myself, I weighed in at thismuch under the weight I was when I joined Weight Watchers. It's my magic number. NOT pleased at all to see it.

So I went for a run today, partly because I felt fat and knew I needed it even though I didn't feel like it, and partly because I paid good money to register for races later in the fall and I have to train for them sometime. It did make me feel a little better. Then we went out and bought shoes and swimsuits for the boys and got some fruit at a local fruit farm that I love. I actually made dinner tonight which is kind of unusual. I've been very anti-cooking lately, for some reason. I will do it when I have to, but only under protest. Tonight I felt like it so I did. And miracle of miracles, there was no whining, wailing or gnashing of teeth from the peanut gallery.

Right now, I am procrastinating (AGAIN!) on taking my anthropology midterm. And this week I have to get ready to go TDY (temporary duty) to California. I'm looking forward to it...it will be fun to work with the guy from that base again, and I'm going with a good friend of mine who shares my office. But for some reason, I'm not super excited to go. Traveling is going to be hectic, and I already feel like I'm late for the flight, and I don't leave for three more days. I have to miss two and a half lectures at school, and while I"m certain the professor doesn't care and may not notice I'm missing, I am worried that it will make the final hard. Even though Holly is going to copy her notes for me. Wuss. I'm getting so whiny in my old age, I swear. I complain and say that I want to work more, and get to travel like I used to, and when I get the chance, I'm all namby-pamby about it.

Foul mood. Blah.

No rest for the weary

2008-06-30T15:58:00.002-04:00

Spring quarter is over, summer has started. I managed to pull out a "D" in math, which is awful, but it's passing. And I was seriously worried I might not pass. I'm not happy about getting my first "D" in college, but I am happy that I am done paying to take math, which is among the things I hate to do most in the world.

Now I'm taking anthropology, and this particular course focuses on evolution and genetics. If I had known that there is a lot of math in genetics, I might not have taken this class. But it finished my natural science requirement, I'll be done in two more weeks and it's interesting.

I should be finishing the article that I have a deadline for TOMORROW but for some dumb reason, I can't seem to concentrate on something until I am seriously up against the wall. I'm procrastinating. Again. I've had several weeks to work on this article for the magazine I occasionally freelance for, and I kept putting it off and saying, as soon as exams are over. As soon as I get the checkbook balanced. As soon as the kids are in bed. Well, it's due tomorrow and it's not finished yet. Because I've been piddling around shopping for shoes, or reading my friends' profiles on Facebook, or reading political arguments on message boards. Or blogging.

Making an observation about politics and political arguments here. I just read a great op-ed piece in Newsweek....it might have been a couple weeks old but it really rang true. I paraphrase here...Washington sucks. I don't think it matters who we elect in November; the partisanship and the hatred runs so deep that I don't think anyone can get anything done anymore. Politicians aren't concerned anymore with doing what is right for America, they are worried about their reputation, their own constituents, their paycheck, and making sure that the other side can't get their way. It seems to have become a juvenile game of thumbing your nose across the aisle and saying, "Oh yeah? You don't want to cooperate on this issue? Well, just see if you EVER get any cooperation from me when you need it." And it becomes about getting people back for previous slights or disagreements and being more concerned with BEING right than DOING right. Earth-shattering, right? Insightful and profound, right? Not hardly. But disappointing and disheartening, for sure. No wonder the rest of the world thinks we're a bunch of self-absorbed crybabies.

OK, my cynical rant of the day is over. I do hope that whoever is the next President can make, or at least start making, some changes for the better. I believe that all the things we are complaining about....the economy, the environment, gas prices, the war, our place on the world stage....all go in cycles. We have good years, when the economy is strong and people have jobs and worry less about the bottom line, when we aren't at war, or considering war or recovering from war. They can't ALL be good years, and yeah, we have bad times too. Like now. But this too shall pass, and things will begin to get better.

I'm such a cynic and such an idealist, all at the same time.

It's over

2008-06-11T11:17:00.002-04:00

Spring quarter, that is.

In history class, I think I did really well. Our final project was a 15 page paper, and the professor said he was going to ask for extra copies from four students, that he would submit in for consideration for an undergrad award that the history department gives every year. I was "drafted" (read "told") to present my paper to the class....he asked for volunteers first and I tried hard not to make eye contact. But he picked me anyway, and he asked for the extra copy of my paper. As far as I know, I did not win, because the winner was supposed to be announced yesterday and I didn't get any notice. But it was still a compliment to be considered competitive.

Math, on the other hand, is horrible. Just horrible. I don't understand what I've done wrong. I thought I had the concepts, worked through the problems, and the answer I came up with was one of the multiple choices. I don't know. Anyway, I will extraordinarily lucky if I can pull out a "C". I'm not counting on it though....I did really, really badly. I'm just hoping to pass, honestly. If I have to take math again, I'm going to be very very unhappy.

Kids are out of school and happy to be on summer break. I'm glad for a break in the routine too...it's nice to just sleep a little later, and not have to rush in the mornings. When it's time for school to start again, I'm always ready for that change too, though. Seth and Lucas started baseball and teeball last weekend, and Seth had his first tennis lesson last night and Lucas has his first golf lesson tomorrow night. next week is a basketball camp....three days for an hour and a half. Then they have another basketball camp in July, and zoo day camp. We go to Disney in August. It is a rather busy summer I guess. But I don't like sitting around the house too much and they end up getting bored and antsy and into trouble when they sit around too much.

Little man is on way to being potty trained and I think I have bought my last case of diapers, ever! He's been wearing pull-ups/underpants this week and last week, and it's going pretty well. He got off to a bit of a rough start, but yesterday was a great day, and today is looking pretty good too so far.

You know how you can just tell when someone you are close to has something bothering them, even if they say they are fine? The husband really seems like he is preoccupied with something....very short tempered, especially with the kids. Just sort of....somewhere else. He of course says nothing is wrong, but I don't believe it, completely. I have been wrong before, of course, but I am wondering what is going on with him. He doesn't seem to have any interest at all in doing anything social with other people....he gets irritated so easily.....one friend said maybe he's having a hard time adjusting to being retired from the military. He's the guy who always says nothing is wrong, nothing bothers him, so if that was it, he wouldn't say so anyway.

Just saying.

Nothing earth shattering or thought provoking going on lately, just real life. Pretty mundane, really.

Math

2008-05-25T17:00:00.001-04:00

I hate math. I can understand how it's useful and all, but I don't get it and I hate it. I am going to be lucky to pass this quarter.

I hate math. That is all.