Christmas, Round 3

I am smack in the middle of my 3rd wave of Christmas celebrations. Wave #1 happened before Christmas with Non-Texan Granny and Non-Texan Poppy coming to town to visit. It was wonderful. They are fairly young and vibrant and love to play with the kids (in contrast to my own parents). They look forward to these visits and usually stay for 4-7 days each time.

Wave #2 happened on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Just us in the Texan Household. Very low-key. Seeing all the cars congregating at one house or another in our neighborhood just reminded me of how we are not hosting and have not been invited to any big parties or family gatherings of any kind. My immediate family (parents, siblings, nieces/nephews) is over 20 people, so being without all of them this year was really hard.

And, continuing the "Christmas is a shitty time of year" theme: this Christmas has been a disappointment for me. Mostly spiritually. I am really suffering in my faith life. I have had a hard time of it finding a good church for our family. It doesn't help that Texan Papa works on Sunday mornings, so I am forced to take all 4 kidlings to church by myself. And, Baby Sally is not really at the best age for church. I could take her to the nursery, but what to do with the other 3 kids left in the pew? I don't really know anyone well enough to ask them, right in the middle of the church service, Hey can you just squeeze over here and babysit my kids for the next 45 minutes? KTHANKS. I have had a real disconnect lately with the Lord. I usually do not write about my faith life, but basically it is my foundation, my safety net, my inner peace. And I think that is why I have been so all-over-the-map lately, namely because I have lost my footing on that foundation. I am going to try better in 2009 to read MORE of the bible and LESS of blogs. This disconnect came to a head at Christmas. For the past 3 years, our little family actually had a wonderful tradition going. We lived in rural IL and our pattern for Christmas was: Christmas eve dinner, then 7pm Christmas Eve service, then come home and get our bible and walk over to the barn next door, where we would read the Christmas story from Luke 2:1-20. Then we'd come home and open ONE gift, then go to bed. This year, we've moved to a suburb in Texas. No barns 'round here. So, no Christmas tradition. I mean, we didn't even read the Christmas story just sitting on the couch or anything! Sadly, I wondered where was Jesus in our household? He wasn't in the gifts. He wasn't in the meal. He wasn't even in the cheery dispositions. He was just.... absent. And it was noticeable to me. This whole Christmas season I have felt very empty, very unfulfilled, like I've lost something. I feel almost like a member of our family has gone away. So, I am starting to come around again though. I have begun to get a renewed spirit of anticipation, anxiously awaiting His return. Or, I guess since I know He has been here the whole time, maybe I am realizing that the one who has been absent is actually me.

And so, on to wave #3: My parents came in town Tuesday. They wanted to see all of us for the holidays. They are on their way to their snowbird nest in Florida, and decided to swing by, 12 hours out of their way, to visit their baby girl and her family. It has been a bittersweet visit. I have thoroughly enjoyed having them here, but every time I see them I am reminded of the inevitable: my parents have grown very old. My mom and dad are 75 and 73, respectively. They are both showing their ages through declining health issues. My mom had a cataract removed from her right eye about 4 years ago and has suffered a lot of complications because of it. Only now, after 4 years of therapy and recovery, can she partially see out of that eye. Her left eye also has a cataract but she refuses to get it operated on, for fear (and real possibility) that it may also get injured, rendering her completely without sight. My father has become an old man. He can only stand for short periods of time and walks with a slight shuffle. His smile is as warm and welcoming as ever, but his eyes reveal a tiredness that longs for relief. In 2000, he had a 6-bypass on his heart. I didn't even know that was possible! He has had surgeries on his back and also had his ribs sawn open to remove cysts in his lungs. The best way I can describe his presence, is broken. My memories of him are of a strong man who was never afraid of a day of hard work. Now, it's hard work for him to just climb into the minivan. I love talking with them and spending time with them, but every visit just seems to shake me to my inner core. They are aging, more so every time I see them. Which only can mean one thing: I am aging too. And, all this forces me to face my parents mortality as well as my own. I can not imagine a life without my mother. It is beyond my comprehension right now. I feel like, as a young child she spent more time tending to my father and the house than she did tending to us kids. As a teen, I hated her wisdom and her rules that kept me safe. As a young adult, I resented her attempts to guide me on a path that would be safe and prosperous. But now as an adult, mother, and wife, I feel like I haven't gotten to know her enough. I feel like we've just only recently reconnected. I want more time. I know I have it, but every time I talk to her I wonder, How much time does she have? 3 years? 10 years? 20 years? Her own mother died when she was 56 (her mother being 86). If I make it to 56 and my mother is still alive, she will be 94. I don't realistically expect that, but I would be so grateful if I could enjoy her for another 20 years.

On a less somber note, but with a twinge of bitterness: my parents are classically short-visitors. They arrived Tuesday morning, and are leaving Wednesday morning. I don't get it! This is the first time I've seen my dad since April (my mom since August) and they can only stay for ONE DAY?!?!? They always say, "We gotta get movin'!" Moving where? To the early bird special? Whatever. On the one hand, I know they've always been like this. On the other hand, I want to scream at them! In 2008, I think I spent a total of maybe 5 days in the presence of my dad. What's so flippin important in Florida that he has to skip out after seeing his daughter, son-in-law, and 4 grandchildren for one day?

Also, I think one reason I don't want them to leave is that them leaving means back to life as usual - chores, childcare, running errands, playing referee to sibling rivalry, telling my children "no" twice as often as I tell them "yes", etc.

I am truly hoping that 2009 shows itself as one filled with more peace, comfort, and joy. I know I could sure use it.

And, to all of you bloggers who've actually made it this far to the bottom of this pathetically long and whiny post, thank you for you. Why do you all follow my crazy ramblings? I am still amazed that what I say is of any interest or enjoyment to anyone else besides myself. But, knowing that you do read for whatever reason, gives me so much happiness. Writing a blog is so very therapeutic for me, if I can say that without sounding trite. I think the reason I enjoy it so much is because I know you are listening. Our society is all about talk talk talk talk talk. Interrupting is no longer considered rude. Everyone has something to say, and they've got a right to say it! I think listening is almost becoming a lost art. How many people do you know that are good listeners? People who sit quietly while you talk without offering advice or asking questions or making judgments? I know very few and cannot count myself as one. But reading your comments mean the world to me. Even if it's just "Thanks. Great post!" I get such a high from it. So, thanks for reading and I look forward to getting to know everyone much better in 2009. I can't make any promises of posts that are exceptionally edgy or funny or insightful. But, they will certainly be me.

The Best Product EVAH

I do not shy away from home-improvement projects. As a matter of fact, I was the "house manager" while living in my sorority house in college. (A big bordeaux shout-out to all my A-Phi sisters out there!) Being house manager basically involves making sure the physical house was kept in good shape (clean and safe) and also monitoring the grounds. Of course, the idea is that the house manager will call appropriate repair people when needed. However I, of course, never met a challenge I didn't like. I tried (and usually succeeded) in fixing whatever I came across.

Now, being a mom, I am a whole new kinda house manager: Wash pee-pee sheets; remove blood stains from t-shirts; fish out ground up bits from garbage disposal. From cleaning out gutters to putting up Christmas lights to regrouting the tile in the shower, I've learned more being an unemployed homemaker than I ever did in the workforce.

And, I've recently come across this one little wonder that has forever made my life easier and happier. Here it is:

Here's the reasons I love the Super Hook:

• I can put them in place without using a single tool
• I don't need my husband's help
• The product is VERY reasonably priced
• The product is VERY versatile and has performed well in my household tests
• I don't need any special training or "man smarts" to figure out how to use it.

So, basically, here's how you use the Super Hook:

1. Pick where you want to hang something

2. Push the Super Hook into the wall

That. Is. It.

Every time I have EVER put a hook into drywall, it always required drilling a hole, using an anchor, and inserting a screw, and many times the anchor & screw ended up falling out anyway. These Super hooks can hold a ton of weight and stay put in drywall.

Here are some of the things I have hung with the Super Hook:

This small tool just has made my life so much easier because I can now organize things in - literally - seconds, when previously I would be involved in a 20-minute project for each hook I would want to hang.

And, the Super Hooks cost..... $4 for a pack of 25. I got them at Big Lots, so they aren't a sure bet to find them at every Big Lots, but I've also seen them at Walgreens in the "As Seen on TV" aisle.

I am not being paid or anything for making this recommendation (But Super Hook people, if you read this, you can totally hook me up! Just thank me by sending me more Super Hooks!) I just really want to share with you something that you can buy that has the ability to ease that one little bit of tension. I know how much I love being able to cross that item off my to-do list. And these little babies make that to-do list look a lot shorter.

THIS Obama Cracks Me Up

NPR, you never fail to rise to the challenge.

Just when I need something to blog about, all I need to do is click onto our local NPR station, and voila! A story is born.

There is a lady, named Susie Obama, who shares her last name with our President-Elect. They are not related, but that doesn't stop people from contacting her, expecting her to have a very famous husband.

And college student, Denise Obama, has people asking her when she'll take them on a tour of the White House, simply because of her last name.

You just have to listen to this stream from NPR to hear the story. (Click on Listen Now)It is so funny! (especially Susie. She cracks me up!)

True, our next president doesn't have a name as common as Smith, Washington, Gonzalez, or Nguyen. I guess these few folks with the famous last name will have to deal with the popularity, at least for 4 more years.

Why I am doomed to a life of Wal-Mart shopping

I am wondering if the reason I have been in such a funk this Christmas, and why the overwhelming feeling I've gotten from other bloggers recently is one of funkiness, might be because of the economy. I mean, I'd actually say that this year has been a BETTER one (financially anyway) than last year for the Texan Mama Family. Texan Papa got a better job with higher pay and good job security, we paid off our van, and we got a huge tax return. Our garage sales even rocked! But, even though we did fine this year, the news is all around us: "Forclosures at an all-time high!", "Americans unable to provide for their families", "Unemployment rate continues to climb", "Food pantries running out of food" etc. I almost feel like it would be a crime to suggest that our family is doing okay. Sure, our retirement accounts are in the crapper, but we aren't planning to cash those in for at least another 25 years, so hopefully the market will have bounced back by then.

So, all this crappy economy news just leads me to one obvious conclusion: Wal-Mart is, and always will be, the King of the Mountain. Not that I love them, but if ya can't beat 'em, ya gotta join 'em.

See, Wal-Mart advertises "Low Prices. Always." Yes, 'tis true. The prices are low. No matter that the quality sucks, but that's neither here nor there. At their prices, you can afford to buy a pair of shoes and let them fall apart in 2 months time, because then you can buy another pair and another pair. And hey! They are brand new again. And again. And again.

And, the price-matching. OH the price-matching. I have been known to bring in my ads from 2 neighborhood grocery stores, Target, Home Depot, and Jo-Ann Fabrics, and get all the items in one stop. All that, and I can also pick up a 5-pound tube of ground beef, an American flag, and some baby socks. (This was an actual shopping trip about 3 weeks ago). As much as I truly want to patronize all the mom-and-pop operations out there, I have to do what's best for my sanity. And what's best for my sanity is to not test my children with "Please, kids? Can we go to just 3 more stores? I promise, only a few items at each store!" With 4 children, going to multiple stores, with multiple check-out lanes, and multiple candy/toy selections in each check-out lane, well - you do the math. Sticking to just ONE store significantly lowers my budget for items in the category of "Please stop asking me questions for 25 seconds oh here put this in your mouth"

Also, I am ashamed to admit that I feel comfortable in Wal-Mart. Why, you ask? Well, upon leaving Nowheresville, IL and moving to Texas, I found that the layout of my old and new Wal-Mart were exactly the same. When finding my way around my new neighborhood, I recognized no familiar grocery stores, no familiar beauty shops, no familiar hardware stores. But Wal-Mart? As I breezed up and down the aisles with inventory pallets haphazardly strewn in the way of my cart, I often forgot I was in Texas altogether! It was like being back home in IL.

And, I have gotten the same feeling at just about every Wal-Mart I have ever visited. If I bought some Cover Girl mascara that just didn't turn out as I liked, I can return it at Wal-Mart in TX or in IL or in Alaska or in Hawaii. Heck, I bet I could have used that mascara for 3 months before I decided I didn't like it, and they'd STILL take it back. Without the receipt. And probably even give me cash back for it. Seriously - have you ever been in line at Customer Service behind some dolt returning a stereo without the box or any packaging materials, and it totally looks stolen, and Wal-Mart STILL will take the return? I have. To say their return policy is "liberal" is being generous. Which, of course, is good for me - the consumer. (NOTE: I am not saying I return stolen merchandise. Used? sure. I prefer the term "consumer-tested" or even "sampled")


And, finally, to tie up this post in a nice little bow, the main reason I will forever be a customer of Wal-Mart, whether I like it or not, is because now more than ever I am assured that Wal-Mart will never never never never never EVER go out of business. They just might be the only store that is growing in this sinking economy. Now comes the portion of my post where I get to rant about a terrible injustice done to me:

Back in October, I bought a pair of jeans from Steve & Barry's. Do you have a Steve & Barry's around you? If not, I am NOT going to provide a link to those bastards. Anyway, they have cute clothes at very cheap prices, but they are going out of business nationwide (insert evil cackle here. Sheesh, you'd think I had something to do with it!) Anyway, jeans. Size 14. Well, maybe they are a size 14 if size 14 really means size 10. Anyway, of course when I bought them I was in typical shopping mode (aka no time to try-on in the store so I will try-on at home) and asked the clerk, "What is the return policy here?" She said, "90 days, with your receipt." I said, "90 days?" she said, "90 days." So, we were clear. 90 days. Fast forward 62 days, to December 10th. I go to return the size 14/10 jeans, and the clerk says, "Sorry. Our store is closing. No more returns for any reason." I argued, "But it was EXACTLY YOU who told me '90 days'. I bought these jeans when you were NOT going out of business. You told me '90 days'! It has only been 62 days. I want my stupid $9.95 plus tax back. Or store credit." She wouldn't budge, so I asked for a manager. He wouldn't budge either. I told him, "Look, I'll exchange it for something else. Something that DOES fit me." He said, almost half-laughing, "Why would we take the jeans back now? We're closing. We want to get rid of our merchandise." He couldn't be convinced. So, I pulled out the big guns. I said, "Are you sure this is the way it's going to be?" He looked at me as if to say are you serious? I don't know what I was more pissed off about - the fact that he wouldn't take my jeans back or the fact that he wasn't scared by my scathing threat. Of course, I got the phone number for the Corporate office (useless!) and sent them an e-mail (auto reply - "thanks for your interest in our company!") and said that I'd be telling the whole sordid story on my blog that is read by MANY MANY people.

So, people, DO NOT SHOP AT STEVE AND BARRY'S! I don't care how cute the clothes are. I don't care if you're getting a good deal. I don't care if you think their stupid t-shirts have the grooviest little quips about Tootsie Rolls or Sun my Buns or whatever. If you patronize Steve and Barry's, you will be considered an enemy of this blog! (okay, well, I guess what I don't know won't hurt me, but if you go there please just don't tell me.)

Okay, so to sum up: I have a love/hate relationship with Wal-Mart. I love them, but I hate that I love them. I want to vow that I will never shop there again, but I know I will slink through those massive doors yet again. I've tried to break my ties with them. But that stupid yellow bouncy smiley face keeps bringin' me back home again.

By the way, you MUST read this post by Souther' Mother - why I hate Walmart. It is so funny that I almost peed my pants, then ran out to Wal-Mart to buy more. Plus some Chicken in a Biskit crackers. Yum.

Having a Shitty Christmas? Join the Crowd!

Let's see, where shall I begin?

Last night, on Christmas Eve, Texan Papa decides that we should hide the presents after leaving for church, one of us taking the 3 older kids and one of us staying behind with the baby after the others have left. He asked if I wanted to stay behind. Sure, I said. Baby Sally was VERY helpful with the presents - throwing, tearing, dropping... you know how it is with at 14-month old.

Texan Papa tells me, "You're going to need to calm down." I hate those words. HATE. H.A.T.E.

This morning, we have ANOTHER fight on the way to church - again - because I realize Linus has been walking on TOP of my van. I tell him that we'll talk about it later, but continue to say that it's dangerous and it will break other people's things... until I'm interrupted by Texan Papa who says, "Aren't you going to talk about it LATER?" Oh, I just love being corrected by my husband. I love it just a little bit more than being told I need to calm down. Heh. And, it's not enough that I hear, all day long, "Mom, you didn't fix this for me yet!" "Mom, when are you going to put batteries in that?" "Mom, don't say 'stupid'." "Mom, it's my turn now. You told me I could have a turn now!" "MOM" "MOM" "MOM"

And Linus. Oh, dear Linus. I have no idea what to do with him. He decided to push his brother Charlie Brown (over 60 lbs) and the neighbor boy (probably about 70 lbs) together in the baby's BRAND NEW NEVER USED CHRISTMAS PRESENT bike-buggy stroller

Photo Courtesy of Google Images

Now, mind you, this is for a BABY. And what did Linus do? Well, he decided to do "tricks" with it by pushing the boys, in the buggy, and slamming them into the curb (hoping the buggy would just bounce right on up onto the sidewalk). And, what happened you ask? Well, just what you'd expect - the front wheel attachment cracked and broke, and the fabric on the front of the buggy got torn. THIS IS BEFORE WE COULD EVEN GIVE IT TO HER. And, when it happened, what did Linus and Charlie Brown do? Well, at the suggestion of demon child neighbor boy, they decided to just leave it in the garage and hope the grown-ups wouldn't find it.

On Tuesday, what did Linus do? He slammed his own bike into Charlie Browns, and bent the back gear spokes, rendering it unusable.

Wednesday night, what do I discover? Charlie Brown had decided to use his dresser as a carving tool, scraping his initials into the wood. "What? I didn't use marker!" he protested. He thought what he did was FINE!

This afternoon, I went outside with Baby Sally, to push her on her favorite tricycle.

And what do I find? Nothing. Trike is stolen. It's not enough that our scooter was stolen out of our own front yard. It's not enough that people smash in the windows of cars on our street that are parked RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEIR HOUSES. But now, people are stealing baby's toys? WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE????? I am absolutely sickened. I don't know whether to feel completely pissed off, or relieved that the trike only cost $5 from a resale shop. I am just a little bit weepy when I think about how much fun she had on that trike. How, every time we went out to the garage, she immediately got on it and her face lit up. How she enjoyed that trike so much - she didn't care how much it cost or if it was fancy. And now, it's gone. Yes, left in our front yard. Shame on us for keeping our belongings on our own property.

And, let's top it off. I'm sure this happened to you too, maybe not this year but sometime: Phrases heard at approximately 7:35 am this morning:

"Is this it?"

"It's not fair. I only got some of what I wished for, not all of it."

"I don't like this."

Did I mention that we got a BIKE for each of the boys and a NEW SCOOTER for Peppermint Patty? They didn't even notice them when they woke up. They went straight for the TV and walked right past the bikes in front of the tree.

That's it. Next year we're skipping December altogether. Or becoming Jehovah's Witnesses.

Inadequate? Or Empowered?

Now's the time of year when I read so many blog posts about family traditions, preparations for yummy meals, and excitement of family gatherings to come. Families singing Christmas carols around a piano, or neighbors and guests sipping hot cider and eating homemade fudge. The decorations are all draped neatly over every available space. Oh, alright - I can't say I've found so many blog posts that are joyful, so much as stressful. I think a lot of folks are feeling the squeeze of the Grinch too, like me. It kinda makes me wonder if anyone else feels the same way I do about all those gorgeous Christmas trees, perfectly browned turkeys, and presents with coordinating wrapping paper, ribbons and bows...

Go Away.

So lately, I have read things on some blogs that make me uncomfortable. I won't link links, but you probably have a few of these blogs on your blogroll as well - you know, the ones that just seem to be the epitome of familial perfection. Anyway, I read these blogs and I can't help but feel inadequade. I think to myself, "These people make me feel inadequate." All the good cheer, and calm voices, and smiling, and fun activities, and matching outfits, and healthy food, makes me want to just crawl in a hole. The only way I can feel better is to find some other REALLY pitiful mom out there who is even worse than me. I can always take solace in thinking, "At least I'm not doing as bad as THAT mom." Of course, THAT mom is usually smoking, calling her kids 4-letter words, and feeding them candy for breakfast. How pathetic am I?

But recently I have realized something. They don't make me feel inadequate... I do that to myself. No one has the power to make me feel anything. My emotions are my own. And, do these bloggers write what the do in order to make other people feel puny? Do they do it to toot their own horns? Do they do it because they think they are better than all of us? NO! Of course not. They are trying to share what works for them, in the hopes that it might work for someone else too. They are educating those of us who are lifelong learners in the game of parenthood. They are empowering us to become better parents, better friends, better people.

When I have read blog posts that criticize others (including my own!) I think to myself, what are they (I) afraid of? Why is it so easy to point the finger at other people and ignore the faults within ourselves? How can we be so quick to judge others? Shouldn't we judge with the same harshness with which we want to be judged ourselves?

So, why do their views, their opinions, their lifestyles bug me so much? I believe it is a deep desire that I want to do better by my family. And, I see them as accomplishing all the things I want to accomplish, while I see myself as a big fat failure.

The only way I am going to get past this, is that I am going to try (disclaimer right now: I might fail) to stop myself from getting all sad and depressed and saying "I'm the worst mom/wife/friend/homemaker in the world." I guess I'm going to make a choice to stop thinking I'm a failure just because someone else DIDN'T tell me I was one.

Now, how's that for not making sense?

When You Thought I Wasn't Looking

Okay, I'm cheating today, posting something written by someone else. I have NO idea who the author is, but my sister-in-law sent this to me.

Naturally, I cried!

Hope you enjoy it.


WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T LOOKING
A message every adult should read because children are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat, and I learned that it was g ood to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make my favorite cake for me, and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer, and I knew that there is a God I could always talk to, and I learned to trust in Him.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help take care o f each other.

When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time and money to help people who had nothing, and I learned that those who have something should give to those who don't.

When you thought I w asn't looking I saw you take care of our house and everyone in it, and I learned we have to take care of what we are given.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good, and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw that you cared, and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking I looked at you and wanted to say,'Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking.'

I AM SENDING THIS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE I KNOW WHO DO SO MUCH FOR OTHERS, BUT THINK THAT NO ONE EVER SEES. LITTLE EYES SEE A LOT . Each of us (parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, teacher, friend) influence the life of a child. How will you touch the life of someone today? Just by sending this to someone else, you will probably make them at least think about their influence on others.

Live simply. Love generously.
Care deeply. Speak kindly.
Leave the rest to God.

Happy Hanukkah, Y'all!

Kleenex, anyone?

Okay, first of all, thanks for all your sweet comments from yesterday's post. As it turned out, I picked up the kids after school at 3:30, and Peppermint Patty bounded up to the Silver Bullet (aka our minivan) and hopped in. "Hi mom!" She was all smiles. I asked "How was your concert today?" and before she could answer, Linus piped in, "It was awesome!!! I love loud music!!!" And Peppermint Patty said, "Yeah, everybody clapped. It was cool!"

So, guilt? short-lived. I'm learning. See, the more this happens, the more I realize, NO need to add extra guilt to my usual quota. But, the tricky thing is, I don't have a barometer to figure out when the meltdowns will happen. If I did, I could make a million, ya think?

On to other news, my in-laws came in today for a Christmas visit. I am so lucky - I get along really wonderfully with them. Non-Texan Granny and Non-Texan Poppy. As I was sitting, waiting for them, I saw some of the best human emotions ever.

I saw a mother and father greet their twenty-something daughter. The dad, with salt-and-pepper hair, saw his daughter and hustled to her side and he gave her a hug that said, "I don't ever want to let you go. Not. Ever." He finally did separate himself from her when his wife said, "Okay, you've had enough. My turn." Her hug was just as squeezy and every bit as warm. They hardly said a word, but it was as if I could feel the relief between them. If I could read the parents' minds, I bet I would have seen "NOW I feel right. Without her here with us, something was missing. But now that she has arrived safely and she's in our arms, all is right with the world."

I sat in the waiting chairs next to a girl, about 28, who was greeting her mom and grandma who were coming to watch her graduate from college. Just listening to her speak, I could tell how proud she was and how excited she was to be sharing it with her mom and grandma. After graduation, they were going to pack her car and a U-Haul and help her move back home. The tone in her voice suggested that she was anxious to start her life. She had the most amazing optimistic attitude. I could hear her smile, even when I wasn't looking at her.

Then, there was a couple, mid-thirties maybe, who were walking briskly together, then upon seeing the security gate, they came to an abrupt halt. They just looked at each other, then at the security gate, then the woman looked at her mate and said, "Well, I guess we have to say goodbye now..." There was an awkward pause, one that couldn't be filled with words or kisses or music. The awkward pause could only be filled with time. I could sense that they desperately wanted more time to be together, talk together, smile together, hold each other, before they had to separate. I could tell they would be counting the hours and days until they saw each other again. They shared a brief but tender kiss, then she rushed off to her gate. I almost felt like it was my heart being left behind.

There is no better place to watch human interaction than at the airport. Joy, sadness, loneliness, frustration, thankfulness, it's all there, and in its purest form. It helps me to remember that, bottom line: people love people. They may say they love money or things, but when all is said and done, nothing can take the place of people.

I hate myself right now.

At this very exact moment that I'm typing, my daughter Peppermint Patty, in the 3rd grade, is having her first ever musical concert. She is playing the recorder. And I am missing it.

No, not because I have to work. No, not because I have some other appointment. I am missing this concert because I just didn't want to go.

The concert started at 12:30. Baby Sally's nap time is usually about 11:30 or 12:00 'till about 2:30. That's the time when I get some REAL work done - you know, the kind where I don't have to also clean up the mess the baby is making. I swear, while I clean up one huge disaster, she's off making the next one! Plus, I am already going up to the school (1/2 hour drive each way) to pick them up this afternoon, and I dropped them off this morning, and we'll go there tonight for the Advent church service when the kids will be singing. So, 3 round-trips (totalling about 1 hour each), plus missing my prime cleaning time, plus dealing with a tired cranky baby during the music concert? Uh, no thanks.

And, I'm not just doing my regular old daily cleaning. My in-laws are coming to stay for the weekend, arriving tomorrow. Also tomorrow, I am having PP's Girl Scout troop and parents over to my house for the Brownie Investiture ceremony. So, cleaning? Times one thousand. And me? already running on no sleep. Can we say, make Christmas Cookies in the shape of a maple leaf for Canadian Christmas party? Can we say, finish a dozen loads of laundry? Can we say, inability to pull one's self away from computer for one frickin' minute...

So, I recognize all the awesome things I'm doing for PP this week: coming to Christmas party at school on Friday. Making 3 types of foods for her party. Actually being her Girl Scout leader. Having Girl Scout ceremony at our house. Watching her sing tonight at church. So, missing this one little thing, why should I let it bother me?

Bottom line: I keep thinking - kids want my time, not maple-leaf cookies. Kids want me there, not a carpet without stains. Kids want me to see them and be proud of them, not an empty laundry hamper.

Ah, life happens, doesn't it? Still searching for the balance....

I'm A Whore to Vanity

Okay, as much as I say that "I'm okay with who I am" and "I am happy with my appearance!" I have to admit that I am weak. I want to be PRETTY. I have my own idea of what pretty means, and of course it involves throwing logic out the window.

I want to be a blonde. Being blonde = Nice 'N Easy 102. I started out with 104, then moved to 103A, and now I'm on 102. By the time my kids graduate high school, I will probably have gone so light blonde that it will naturally evolve into grey, then I can call it "platinum". Either that, or I'll be bald after putting so many chemicals on my hair for 40+ years (I've already been at it for 20).

Also, I want to be tan. Oh holy hell, please do not post comments about skin cancer. I know all about the dangers. I understand them. Actually, it is part of the reason I have stayed away from tanning beds for the last 10 years. Well, that and the fact that for most of the last 10 years I have either been pregnant, nursing, or too poor to justify spending money on tan skin. Well, up until now...

Today I succumbed to my inner vanity whore. I actually purchased and unlimited tanning package at my gym. I rationalized, "Well, if nothing else, it will get me to the gym more!" A big plus of this place is that they have on-site child care for Baby Sally, and PLUS I can work out after I tan. Another reason I plunked down the $40 for one month is that on Saturday, Texan Papa and I are going to a work Christmas Party. I want to look HAWT so I wanted to get a little bit more color in my cheeks. Today I laid down in the tanning bed for the first time since the week before my wedding. They only had me go for 10 minutes. After getting out of the tanning bed I didn't see any tan lines where I'd worn my undies. I thought, "Man I'm never gonna get any color! Good thing it's an unlimited package." Well...

I thought it was strange how my skin started to feel itchy at about 2:30 this afternoon. I thought, well, I did work out today. I guess I just have to shower to get all this yucky sweat off me. Then I kept itching. Then I went into the bathroom and looked at myself.

Oh. Dear. Lord.... the. lobster. cometh.

And, of course, the sides of my body are white. And my lower back? Well, I haven't had tan lines there since before I had kids (now I'm strictly a one-piece Miracle Suit kinda gal).

See, I had this plan. I didn't want to tell Texan Papa about the tanning bed. I thought, well, I'll do it just a little bit. I'll get a tan gradually so that he doesn't notice I've flushed his hard-earned money into a fleeting self-serving purpose. I think I can consider that plan null and void. There is NO way he will not notice the fact that his wife now has pink boobies, where the sun has not shown EVAH. And, I think the sweat from my workout must have magnified the efficiency of the UVB-bulbs because my forehead? Looks like I got scrubbed down with a loofah pad. It is strangely red, while the rest of my face is only pinkish.

So what am I going to do tomorrow? Go back. I mean, I have to even it all out, right? Maybe only 8 minutes tomorrow.

Name That Christmas Theme!

The other night I went to a girlfriend's house to do some scrappin. No, I don't mean that she and I got into a catfight. I mean I had some little clippy-clippy, sticky-sticky scrapbook making fun. I got about 10 pages done, which is pretty good for me. However, the pages are kinda non-creative and just... very... utilitarian. But, they're DONE!


Anyway, one gal was there named.... Lauren. Lauren has two children with really interesting names. She is one of those moms who wants EVERYTHING in her life to be interesting. She doesn't do anything the easy way. For example: instead of scrabooking, she had brought over real cranberries to string together for her Christmas tree. Which she did indeed put onto a string. She told us she was either going to put it on her tree or her mantel.


These type of moms make me quite manic. I think they make me manic because they force me to see myself as a mom who does less, who focuses on "easy" instead of "creative". UGH the last thing I need is something that requires twice as much money or twice as much effort.


The next thing she began to talk about was her Christmas tree. (again, here comes an example of how she does things that are "interesting"). She decided not to purchase ornaments this year. Instead, she bought those decorative balls that can be placed into a bowl on a table, and she purchased eye-screws, screwed them into the balls, and used ornament hooks to put them on the tree.


At this point, I was screaming in my head, "WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST BUY SOME STUPID ORNAMENTS, LADY???" But of course I was politely smiling on the outside.


THEN, she asked the gal sitting next to her, "So, how do you put up your tree? Do you have a theme for it every year?"


I was calmly staring, but thinking to myself, "Is she serious? Really?"


Themed trees, in case you haven't seen one, are "perfect" trees: everything is symmetrical. All the tree branches are in place. Maybe everything on the tree is white: ornaments, lights, and tinsel. Maybe the entire tree uses only red and gold glass ball ornaments, red bows, and gold garland. Of course, the tree skirt lays perfectly, ironed out without a crease. Not a single lightbulb is burned out and they have a gentle twinkle effect. Uusally these trees are placed in picture windows so they may shine in all their glory for passers-by to see.

My tree is the same every year. That's what I like about it! Pulling out the ornament with a picture of me from 4th grade. Pulling out the ornaments that my kids get every year from their grandparents. Putting the cross on top of the tree (we really wanted this instead of an angel or a star, but it has proven to be a bit too heavy for a tree topper).


Warning: if you are a "themed tree person" I am about to offend you, so maybe go click somewhere else like Marthastewart.com.


Those themed trees always seem so fakey fakey to me. Like, what it looks like is more important that what it means. I like that my kids can actually touch our tree. I like that they helped me put it up. I like that they see themselves, and the history of our family in that tree. In our house, Baby Sally has already taken off about half of the ornaments and pulled off the garland twice. I keep reassembling the tree, but everything ends up in different spots. Who cares?!


I think themed Christmas trees are very pretty. Maybe it's a matter of matching your Christmas deco with your personal style. Me? I've got more pictures of our kids up around our house than I do pictures of art. Me? I am more likely to wrap a present with newspaper than I am to have a perfectly-sized gift bag with coordinating tissue paper and a bow. Me? In our family portraits, someone always is screaming, someone else is in need of a haircut, and I usually have a bra strap showing or a run in my panty hose. So, a "not-so-perfect" Christmas tree matches my style. But my family? We understand the important things. That appearances are only superficial. That real substance is underneath. That what you say and what you do are reflections of who you are inside. I want my kids to grow up with the memory of helping put up the Christmas tree and saying, "I remember making that ornament in Kindergarten!" or "This one is my favorite! I want to pick a branch to hang it on!" I think it would be so sad if our kids looked at Christmas as just another time to get presents. All the preparations for Christmas - one being the decorating, which they particiapate fully in - make the holiday so much more special.


Now, I think themed trees are super classy. Actually, I kinda admire them when I see them in people's homes. I admire them because they represent something about me that I know I will never be: neat and tidy, (close to) perfect, stylish, organized. And, I think, that's okay. I know what I like, even though it's not for me. I see other people who personify characteristics that I struggle with, but I am okay with who I am. I am trying to get better at some stuff, but recognizing what's really special about me is fun too.

All My Little Elves

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Quick Poll: Beauty or Time?

I've put a really quick poll over there on my sidebar. Here's the question:

If it's time to leave the house, and you can either A) leave right now, with greasy hair pulled into a ponytail and a stain on your shirt, but arrive on time; or B) shower, put on new clothes, but arrive late to wherever you're going,

WHICH ONE WOULD YOU PICK?

And, just for this poll, you can't pick, "Well it depends on the day" or "Well it depends on if I'm going to drop my kids off or if I'm going on a date with my husbad." I know we all plan differently if a day goes haywire or if we have special plans. I'm talking about,

In General, is it more important for you to be Prompt? Or Personally Tidy?

Jenny McCarthy is SO not Gonna be my BFF now!

My friend and I were talking on the phone today. We got into a very lively discussion about vaccinations and kids. She has 2 kids, ages 2 and 2 months. Baby Sally is 14 months now. So, we are both in the period where our kids get vaccinations when they go to the doctor.

Vaccinations are such a touchy subject for parents. Oy vey, can we find ONE subject we can all talk about without it becoming a controversy? PLEASE? Anyway, Texan Friend and I are on the same page about vaccinations: kids need 'em. Please, don't miss 'em. Parents, while very well-meaning, may be doing their child more harm than good by keeping them away from vaccines. So much media attention about this subject doesn't help either. Jenny McCarthy has certainly thrown her hat into the ring when fighting for Autism Research. I certainly encourage parents of children with Autism to be advocates for their children. And, it is very clear how much she loves her son. But, I don't think it hurt her image, already fading into has-been status, to become the poster-mother for Green Our Vaccines, an organization that is anti-vaccines.

I got to talking to Texan Friend about this today because I heard a report on NPR about the fallout of children not getting vaccinated against certain diseases. This, from the CDC (click to see the full report):

From January through July 2008, CDC received reports of 131 measles cases from 15 states and the District of Columbia—the highest year-to-date number since 1996. More than 90% of those infected had not been vaccinated, or their vaccination status was unknown. Many of these individuals were children whose parents chose not to have them vaccinated. Fifteen of the patients, including four infants, were hospitalized.

Again, I think that many families do not follow up on the education following a scary report about the causes of Autism. For example:
First we thought that vaccines caused autism (The report was shot down almost immediately. Click here.)
Then we thought that the mercury in vaccines caused autism (There's not link. Click here.)
Now we are finding that genes, not vaccines, are more closely linked to Autism. (click here.)

And, who can fault mothers for being careful with their children? They are our most precious gift and while we can feel free to take risks with our own health, we don't want to put our child in harm's way or even anything that might come close. But are these parents making the best decision? Are they doing the research? Maybe they protect their own children from germs and diseases. But what happens when they fly on a plane with a person who's been exposed to measles? What if an outbreak of whooping cough (pertussis) makes its rounds at the sports camp at your church? While we may not travel to other countries where these diseases still exist, other people do. Our neighbors, our co-workers, the checker at the grocery store, the greeter at Wal-Mart, germs and diseases are everywhere, despite our best effiorts. And our best efforts are vaccines!

Even when I began typing for this post, I immediately started to Google things like "autism vaccine link" and "mercury autism link" and "measles outbreak". And, I had a tough time finding ANYTHING that actually supported the reports of vaccines being a cause or a part of the cause of autism. Most of what I found said, "We can't say that autism is not caused by vaccines, but we also can't say that it is. We can't make that connection. There has been no proven link."

I watched the Today Show on October 30, when Dr. Nancy Snyderman interviewed a colleague, Dr. Paul Offit, who has gotten hate mail and death threats, all because of his vocal position regarding the lack of validity in the claim that vaccines cause autism. This is just insane! You would think the opposite would be true: that people would get all up in arms if their children were DENIED vaccines.

I have to make it clear: every family makes their own decisions about vaccinating or not vaccinating. It is a personal choice that only a parent can make. But, I thought about it today, when I was walking to my car with Baby Sally in the stroller - I had forgotten to put her jacket on and a stranger woman said, "That baby is going to get cold out here! She needs a jacket!" At first I was to myself, "Mind your own beeswax, twat!" But then I put myself in check and said, "No, she's just concerned about the baby." But people can agree that a JACKET is good protection from pneumonia, and VACCINES are dangerous? Because, while autism is truly awful and painful, it is not fatal. Measles is, especially for someone who's only about 25 pounds.

If someone can call DFS on me for spanking my child, what's the policy for a parent who is putting their child at risk for a deadly disease?

Tips for Parents from Someone who *Thinks* she knows what she's doing

Some of these ideas are thoughtful. Some, not so much. Just what I'm thinking about today.



1. When we're at the park, or a friend's house, or wherever we are when it's time to leave, I tell the kids, "I am going to sing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' two times, then we're going to leave." Kids understand this concept. If I say, "Five more minutes," I might as well say, "27 more hours" because they have no concept of time. Think about it, when do kids learn to read a clock? Not till Kindergarten, usually! So how would they know what 5 minutes or 10 minutes or 1 minute is. However, the DO know how long songs last. This really has helped.



2. When we have to leave, I tell my kids to say "bye-bye" to wherever we're leaving. "Say bye-bye to the park." "Say bye-bye to the house." "Say bye-bye to the van." They like to say bye-bye for some reason.



3. When kids want to talk and I want to tell them something too, I listen, and when they've finished, I say, "Okay, now you had your turn to talk. Now it's my turn to talk. We're taking turns so please don't take your turn until I'm finished." If they interrupt, I gently remind them, "No, it's still my turn. You will get another turn in just a minute." I have tried, umpteen times, to say, "Please don't interrupt." I think I should say, "Please keep talking. Yes, more! And again!!!" because that whole "don't interrupt" never works. But the "taking turns" thing works. Again, it's a concept that they get. This still works for my kids at age 9, 7, and 6.



4. I have accepted that it is okay to fail. When I was a young mother, I wanted to do everything right.... which is obviously impossible. I wanted my children to turn out perfectly. Again, impossible. Now I have gotten used to the idea that I probably WILL fail, so I'm not so surprised when it happens. I try not to fail, but when I do, I only have to deal with learning from my mistakes and moving forward. I don't have to also add on the extra time of asking myself, "Why in the world didn't that work? How could I have been so stupid? What was I thinking?" I just bypass all that and go straight to, "Sometimes I'm an idiot. Now, what can I do to be less of an idiot tomorrow?"



5. I'm trying to actually ENJOY parening more. For a long time, it was just a job: get up, feed the kids, take them to activities they enjoy, give them what they need, teach them lessons, go to bed. I never had any joy in raising my children. My role was very utilitarian: get the work done, give the kids what they need to grow, just do it. Now I look back at that time with a lot of grief. Why didn't I take more time to just love them? Why didn't I put off all the things that don't really matter? Now, after some growing (see #4), I try to spend more time listening. More time laughing. More time doing little stuff (like staring into my baby's eyes, or building a lego house, or working on a find-a-word puzzle with a 6-year-old) than I do on the dishes, mopping, and laundry. And, when I have to do the "unimportant" jobs, I try to make them into a game with the kids. We do laundry basketball, where I dump ALL the clean laundry on my bed, let the kids stand on my bed, and sort it (towels/kids/grown-ups) into baskets on the floor. They toss the clothes like playing basketball. It helps me and they enjoy it. But I just try to remember, I can't get these years back. Once they are over, they are over for good. I don't want them to grow up thinking, "my mom never spent any time with me."



6. Kids are people too. They aren't mini-adults, but rather adults-in-training. I have quit expecting them to act like I do. I don't try to get them to have the emotions of an adult. They are still learning how to use their feelings and their emotions. Sometimes I let them have their emotions, whatever they may be, then later when the situation is not as intense, we talk about it. We discuss if those feelings caused them to act inappropriately. But, feelings are just feelings. They are not bad or good. We can't control our feelings, but we CAN control what we do about our feelings. I always tell our kids, "You can feel anything, but you must choose what to do about it. You won't get in trouble for your feelings but you might get in trouble if you let your feelings make you do something naughty. " And, actually, that's a lesson for adults as well. I could take that advice!



That's all I've got for now. As my infinite wisdom reveals itself to me, I will impart more jewels to you all.



ROFL

Toot, Fart, Moo

Okay, first off, if you don't understand the title, it's a play on the book "Click, Clack, Moo" about a bunch of cows who find a typewriter in their barn, and type a letter to the farmer who takes care of them. If you've never read it, you should - it's cute (oh and it's a kids book, by the way. Very popular book. I'm sure it would be at the library.)

Picture from Amazon.com

See, nothing is as funny when you have to explain it.

(Imagine a bunch of cows sitting down at a typewriter)

Dear EPA people,

How do you control your emissions? Do you try to conserve gas? Do you use a special type of gas? Have you purchased a hybrid or electric car?


Oh, wait, I'm not talking about THOSE emissions. I'm talking about the kind that make music with your rump trumpet. Yes, I'm talking about...


FARTING.


Now, this may not be a big question for you. But, it is a big - and I mean VERY BIG - deal to us. You see, we have heard a terrible story that you may begin to start charging our owners in the United States a tax of up to $175 per year for each of us lovely bovine that live in the pasture. Apparently the tax money will be going to fight the global warming crisis caused by the farts that each of us emits.


Now, we can see having a tax for cigarettes. Definitely for gasoline. Absolutely for factories. All these things are man-made and produce harmful emissions into the air, making it harder to breathe and indeed helping create global warming.


But why for us cows? We have been around since the beginning of time. Well, if you believe in Creation, we were around before man, like about 10,000 years or so. If you're an evolutionist, though, then I guess you could say we've been around for MILLIONS of years, even further supporting our point: If cows didn't create a hole in the ozone before 100 years ago, why are we considered to be such a threat to the ozone now?


And, considering the suffering economy, why put the burden of this tax on consumers now? We agree with the person who wrote that article, that the cost will only get passed on to the consumers. We just can't see how charging farmers a fee for every single one of us will make the hole in the ozone smaller. Maybe we all just see the world through black-and-white colored glasses.

Sure, we fart. So do pigs. So do chickens. And horses, and dogs, and mice, and farmers, AND EVEN EPA PEOPLE. You have to admit - it feels a lot better to let it go than to suck it in and squeeze yer buns together.

We're just sayin' - we can't be responsible for the action we decide to take if you make us start holding our farts in. We don't want to become a financial burden on the already stressed out economy. But, if you want us to keep producing milk, you know what you need to do.

Sincerely,
The Cows.

Mourning the Loss of Myself

Way back (seems like a hundred years ago, yet just yesterday) when I got married, I felt like I was ready. I was 26. I had dated around. I had "sewn my wild oats" and I was ready to settle down. I felt like I'd done (I mean, tried but not necessarily finished) everything I wanted to do, and I was ready for the next big adventure.

After getting married, I experienced a huge adjustment period. I had a new roommate! And, if this roommate didn't mind his manners, I couldn't just wait out the lease and move out. This was IT!! I grieved the loss of my own space.

And, after work, I was so excited to get home to my new husband. We would cook together, go for walks together, just talk together, whatever. But there were also times that I wanted to just go to the mall and walk around, window shopping, on the spur of the moment. I wanted to answer to no one, just being free. I grieved the loss of my free spirit.

Once I had children, I longed for my own time again. Time to take care of me. Time to finish a project I had started. Time to listen to a song on the radio, all the way through, just once. I resented that I had to actually schedule time to do things for myself AFTER I had already finished doing for everyone else. I grieved the loss of my time.

As I grew into the woman I am today, through my teen years and all the way through college, I was very proud of my sharp wit and outgoing nature. I was fearless to tread my own path and quite often I went against the grain just for the fun of it or to see what would happen. Now I am the wife and mother who recognizes the importance of harmony in a family. I value the support I give my husband and he gives me. Many times that means compromising. Compromising has led me to leave some of my own ideas behind. I am now realizing how much I am grieving my loss of independence.

And now that I've been married for over 12 years, you'd think I would be used to it. I have become desensitized to having my every thought interrupted. I have gotten used to putting my own desires and plans on the back burner. I have become accustomed to rearranging what I want to accomplish for the greater good of the whole family.

And ya know what? I'm not mad about it. Isn't that strange? I should be furious! Some days, I do feel like I have let go of myself and morphed into someone else who is a pushover, someone I swore I would never become. Quite often I do feel frustrated that my own decisions about how much money to spend, where to live, how to raise our children, must be tempered with someone else's values. My voice feels like it's so tiny.

This is especially frustrating when I talk to my single girlfriends. They can buy a new couch if they want to! In red plaid! They can go on vacations at the drop of a hat. They can quit their jobs if it doesn't suit them anymore. Their decisions belong to them 100%. They don't have to compromise anything.

But, at the same time, I realize that for every compromise I make, one has been made for me. Every time I see my husband about to say something, then he closes his mouth and just smiles, I am reminded that he is making sacrifices too. When I see him look longingly at his fishing poles, knowing he would rather be out on the lake than cleaning out the gutters, I am humbled. Even when I see him napping in the recliner, I know he'd rather be tired from a long day of playing with the kids than a long day of work. I can only imagine the stress he must have, knowing that the responsibility of our family's finances rests entirely upon his shoulders and his ability to provide.

Even before I got married, I know, that sacrifices and compromises that were made for me back then too. As a child, my mom excluded herself from many of her favorite activities because she was my full-time caregiver. We rarely had babysitters except when my parents went out on weekends, usually to entertain some business client of my dad's. My mom had to take me with her to bowling, choir practice, etc. or not go at all. In high school, I begged my parents to send me to a private high school, and they did. They paid the money so I could make new friends and escape my world of unpopularity. And after college, like the MINUTE I graduated, my dad retired and my parents started traveling. It was easy to see that they made sure I had whatever I needed until I was ready to be on my own. They made life better for me, at the expense of their own wishes and plans.

I recognize that mourning the loss of all these things about myself is selfish. I mean, who wants to feel like they've given up themself for someone else? At the same time, I try to see all the ways that compromises have been made for me. It's hard not to feel loved, knowing how much someone else is willing to give up for my own happiness, security, and peace. So, sacrificing a little bit of myself doesn't seem so hard anymore. Instead it feels like an investment in something whose worth is immeasurable.

I've.... Been.... Koobfaced!

WTF? And I don't mean What The F? but I mean, WHY the F?

Why do hackers feel the need to spread viruses throughout the internet? I'm all for a practical joke, but puh-leeze people. Why do some people want to send those nasty virus thingies around to us innocent unsuspecting people? They can't even see us crying when their evil plan goes into effect. What's the joy there?

So I was just surfing my e-mail, minding my own business, when I got an email from the sister of a good friend. It was actually, a note that she had written on my wall. It said, "I saw you in this video... thought you'd want to check it out." so I clicked on the link, which then told me, (here's where the virus hits ya), 'You have to update your version of flash player to view this video." Of course, I'm curious, so I try to download and install the file like 4 times. It never worked, but I never thought anything more about it.

Till I got on my computer this morning and couldn't get online. I have NO idea what it did to my computer, but I think (*fingers crossed*) that it only affected something with my proxy server. Have no idea what that is and please don't ask me to explain how I figured it out. Press these keys, click over to there, unclick a box, and PRESTO I'm back online.

Since then, I got like 25 emails saying, "What is this video? I couldn't open it?" Gee, just what I want to do... make everyone like me even more by sending them a virus. Apparently the virus is being spread through Facebook so I also got a WHOLE bunch more emails inviting me to watch a cool video in which I looked great, had great hair, was so funny, etc.

Here's the link to the information about the virus, in case you're interested.

Now, I'm click-shy. I don't want to get my computer sick again. I love my baby! So, watch your back and don't go clicking without protection!

Superstars

So, when I began blogging back in June, I did it for a very clear reason. Well, it was clear to me at the time: I really needed a community of people to talk to, talk at, talk with, whatever. I needed to connect with someone or somemany. I had just moved to Texas and really hadn't formed any friendships. You know, making new friends as an adult is tricky, don't ya think? It's not like you have a buddy who is in English 101 with you, or a BFF who lives right across the street. Now that we're all grown up, we have to make friends by finding people we actually enjoy and share our interests. Just sharing geography or coincidental circumstances isn't enough anymore. Finding those people can be hard - it's not like there's an interview process.

"So, do you have children? Are you Democrat, Republican, or Independent? Do you clip coupons or proudly shop at exclusive boutiques?"

So, when I got online and met all you wonderful bloggy people, I was so relieved to find some folks to whom I can relate. Y'all get me! But here's the problem... and I'm wondering if anyone else out there feels the way I do...

You are all like TV stars to me.

Here's what I mean... I love to watch TV. I love to get lost in the story lines and forget about my own problems for a little while, even just 30 minutes. So when I watch an episode of your life on my feed-reader, I feel entertained. Often encouraged. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I get angry, sometimes I cry. But, really, I feel like I am just a voyeur in your lives. The only blogs I read that feel "real" to me are this one, because I've known Angie for more than 20 years (I count myself lucky for that); and this one because Bridgett lives in my old stomping grounds of St. Louis. She tells me about somewhere she went and I actually picture that place in my mind.

But the rest of you are like superstars to me (Angie and Bridgett too, but they are the attainable kind, like Scott Baio or that teen singer who performed in shopping malls). I love reading what you write and I wonder, "What does their house look like? What are their kids like? Where do they take vacations? Do their minivans look as messy as mine does? How often do they cry? What makes them cry? Do they bite their nails? What are they proud of?"

And then I realized that you may not be able to relate so well to me, simply because I don't reveal too many specific details about my personal life. I must explain why I tend to play my cards so close to the chest. It's a good reason that I will tell you now: my husband works in a place where the people he works with can NOT know our personal information. For LOTS of safety reasons. And, while you may not be one of those people, maybe your neighbor is. Or your brother in law. Or your best friend's ex-husband. Or your employee. Whatever. Finding someone's personal information on the internet is easier than finding Cheez-Whiz at the grocery store. And we're not interested in having crazy show up on our doorstep, thankyouverymuch.

However, I've decided to tell you a little more about me, just to open myself up. This is an exercise in letting go, for me.

My name is Gretchen. I have blond hair, but not really. I have dyed it blond for almost 20 years now, but my real color is just dark-blond. I like being a full-time stay-at-home mom, but I yearn to do more. At the same time, I realize that being a mom to my children is the most important job I will ever have and I want to do it well. I want to make a difference in someone's life. I *hope* I'm making a difference in my children's lives. But for some reason, I want to affect someone who appreciates my efforts, not like my children who simply expect my efforts. I constantly question myself about whether my decisions are right or wrong. I have trouble being comfortable with the decisions I make out of fear that I might have to justify them to someone else. I love my kids with my whole being, and yet I feel terribly guilty when I just want them to go away for an hour, an afternoon, a day. I feel like I am betraying them, like What kind of mother am I???

Something else I have realized is this: I love typing out my thoughts and sharing them with you. It's kinda like performance art, yes? I write my words, I share them with you, and I await your comments. The snarky ones are the hecklers. But, this love of blogging has given me pause to consider, since I have so many friends online, is it causing me to avoid making friendships in real life?

So, there is a little bit into the inside of me. It's not pretty, but really it's me. It's Gretchen.

You're gonna miss this

I love the song of the same title by Trace Adkins. Have you heard it? If you like country music, you probably have. If you're not a fan, I'm sure you haven't heard it. Basically, it's about a girl/woman who, at different stages in her life, does not appreciate the stage she's in and is told by parents & friends, "You're gonna miss this."

Every time I hear that song, I cry. I keep thinking how it's so true. I know as a teenager I couldn't wait to grow up and get out of the house. As a young adult I loved college but couldn't wait to get to my career (teaching). Then I couldn't wait to get married. Then have kids. Then buy a house. Then have more kids. Then move to a place with more snow. Then move to a place with more sun.

Well, I've gotten all that I couldn't wait for. And know what? I wish I could go back. I really DO miss it. I miss not having snow to play in. It felt weird raking up leaves in the yard, on the day before Thanksgiving, in shorts and a t-shirt. When we lived in Wisconsin about 5 years ago, I missed the change of seasons. We used to joke, "There are 4 seasons in Wisconsin: winter, still winter, not winter, and almost winter," which was pretty much true. It would be 50 on May 1st, then 85 on June 1st. No real spring. Fall was the same way. Now, it's that way here in Texas but in reverse: summer, still summer, not summer, and almost summer.

And, kids? I miss when my biggest worry was whether or not they got the right happy meal toy or whether they took a long enough nap. Now, I worry that they will hear various 4-letter words at school, that their teeth will not grow in straight, that they will get kidnapped, or that I will unknowingly say the wrong thing and ruin my relationship with them forever.

I keep wanting them to grow up, and need me less. Do for themselves. Answer their own questions. Start keeping things to themselves rather than tattling every other minute. Find their own shoes under the couch. Suck up those ouchies instead of needing a kiss and an icepack for every scratch and bump. And yet, these are the things I know I am lucky to do. I am blessed to be needed. I am loved and wanted by the very ones who, one day, will probably reject me and my ideas and swear that they will NEVER be anything like me. I hope it won't hurt too much.

I keep thinking I need a bigger house, a neater house, a better-decorated house. We have certainly come a long way from our first rental house with uneven floors, a broken and caving-in front porch ("We just don't go over on that one side... for safety reasons"), decaying siding, and 25-year-old carpet. Now we live in a house that even my parents said was "beautiful". That's quite a compliment, coming from my parents, whose taste and standards are very particular. But, am I any happier now? Is life any easier now that we have more bedrooms, more bathrooms, a bigger garage? Not really.

So, I keep wondering, why do I want for something different that what I have? It's like in the Sheryl Crow song Soak Up the Sun - "it's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got." So true.

Got Opinions? Check.

I have a blog roll of WAYYYY too many blogs. Maybe I can further clarify this point by mentioning that I even have a folder of blogs which I've titled, "Blogs I don't really want to read." Yet I still read them.

I used to read one very popular blog from which I have decided to unsubscribe. This blog is full of humor and wit, but at times also very judgmental. This author holds many liberal points of view, and really considers himself to be a free-thinking open-minded individual. However, this author is openly repulsed and offended by people who oppose his thoughts. Wait, remind me again... what is it called if you think that your opinion is the right one, and when someone disagrees with you, they are wrong? Tell me again, I have forgotten... why am I expected to see (and, I guess, agree with) their point of view, but my point of view is not only beyond consideration but also beyond reason???

If I oppose homosexuality because I believe it to be morally wrong, then I am oppressive! Hateful! If I think the war in Iraq is justified, then I am an uncaring person who thinks killing is okay. If I don't want to "share the wealth" like Obama has proposed, then I am selfish. If I don't want immigrants to come into our country illegally, and I suggest that they be required to enter the country in a legal fashion, then I am unAmerican! Can't I see how America is the land of the free? (Well, free for some and the rest of us pay for them.)

Now, please don't even get me started in defending these points of view. This post is not to put my views and opinions up for debate. REPEAT... I AM NOT DEBATING THESE POINTS OF VIEW. What I *am* saying is that, how can a person claim to be open-minded, when they do not allow an opposing viewpoint its proper respect? And by proper respect, here is what I mean:

• Opinions are based on feelings and thoughts, not facts. Opinions are not "right" or "wrong". So, accordingly, the person is not "bad" or "good" based on their opinion.
• We have every right to disagree with an opinion. But, why do some folks think that they need to be nasty, ugly, and show their own stupidity by ripping apart others' opinions with slurs, name-calling, and unintelligent arguments? Do they really think the other person will be swayed to their side of the argument by THAT?
• Opinions are personal. Mine is mine. Yours is yours. Why would you think that I have the same thoughts as you? Why are you trying to make my thoughts the same as yours? Isn't the world a more interesting place with people who are different? And, finally...
• A person with a different opinion is not an enemy. That person is someone who we can LEARN FROM. We, as discerning and intelligent people, should listen to opposing viewpoints and use our own distinct set of moral & ethical guidelines, as well as the bank of knowledge in our brains, to consider the opposing opinion. We should ask ourselves, "Do I agree 100%, disagree 100%, or am I somewhere in the middle?" Opinions are the ONE thing that are definitely not black-and-white. So why do we force ourselves to put them into those two boxes: agree or disagree?

Now, that said, isn't this person allowed to have an opinion too? Sure! Definitely! Opinion it up! But when that person's opinion starts smelling like "I'm right and everyone else is a moron," then that opinion acquires the aroma of a Texan's armpit in mid-July. I'm kinda on the bandwagon of "My opinion is good, but I'm not gonna beat you over the head with it. So please don't beat me over the head with yours, K?" Because (almost) every opinion has some squeak room. What is squeak room? That one teensy weensy wiggle point that could really go either way when all is said and done. Maybe I hate the KKK. Maybe I think they are a bunch of hate mongers. BUT... they do deserve free speech like everyone else, right? No, I don't like their speech, but the 1st amendment guarantees free speech to everyone, regardless of whether or not their momma is also their auntie. (See the squeak room there?)

So, I'm going to do a little house-cleaning with my blog roll. Once I remove this blog from my blog roll, I'm sure the author will not even notice. But I feel like there are SO many awesome blogs out there that I should surround myself with people I love and those who make my time at the computer better. Well, at least, worth skipping TV for.

Going Green... reluctantly

I am going to republish this post that I originally published this past summer. I am republishing because I wanted to thank Mama Goes Green for the awesome reusable shopping bags that I won in the SITS-a-thon contest. I got 3 super cool reusable bags for groceries, Wal-Mart purchases, whatevah. Also I got 4 reusable produce bags to contain anything from asparagus to zucchini. These bags are very cute and, even better - I got them FREE! Go visit her website and check out all her suggestions about how to make your journey to the "green side" less painful. (I really like this post about how to have a Green Christmas.)

Our move to urban Texas has been filled with surprises. I guess we should have been prepared for some of them, considering we were moving from the country. In the rural midwest everything is more relaxed: you can drive your 4-wheeler around town on the streets, dogs and cats pretty much run around wherever they want to, and when it comes to garbage you can basically build a firepit in your backyard and start a bonfire with magazines, leaves, grass clippings, even the "bad" stuff like plastic bags full of trash. I know, I know... I am contributing to global warming... the hole in the ozone... leaving a sasquatch-sized footprint on the earth. But, to my credit, I did stop using Aqua Net aerosol hairspray when perms went out of style.

But, none the less, when our nearest neighbor is 5o feet away, not .5 miles away, we just can't have the freedom to contaminate our own personal space the way we used to. We have come along, kicking and screaming, on the RECYCLING bandwagon. Okay, I know what you're going to say. Recycling is not a bandwagon, it is the way of the future. The only way to save our planet. But, (insert whiny voice here) it's such a pain! I mean, you have to set aside all those bottles and milkjugs and paper, you have to look at the number on the plastic to see if it's a 1, or a 2 or God forbid a #7! The biggest offender in our household is the dreaded disposable baby diaper. I do admit that every time I change Baby Sally's diaper I feel bad for the giant landfill I'm contributing to, and for my great-great-great-great-great-grandchild who will live in a city built upon it. I try to help the green movement by only changing the baby sporadically. After all, what's a little diaper rash in the face of global peace? Maybe by then they'll have a way to change the offending diaper chemicals into a non-toxic pesticide. Or fertilizer. Or food for the hungry. Those scientists are geniuses. If they can clone a sheep, I bet they can do lots more.

I feel like I should be a responsible parent, leading by example, tossing my water bottles and Diet Coke cans and pizza boxes (oh no, I forget, I can't recycle those) into the green box with the arrows on it. Better yet, I can use glass milk bottles (read: pay the same for a 1/2 gallon as I do for a whole gallon in the plastic jug) and buy ready-made pizza (wrapped in the 1000-year-to-degrade plastic wrap) instead of ordering out. So how is a person supposed to live in a completely earth-friendly eco system?

I saw an episode of 30 days, produced by Morgan Spurlock (who also did "Supersize Me") which I rented from Netflix. Netflix is one of my MOST favorite things, but that is for a future blog. In this episode, called "Off The Grid", two folks from New York went to live in an eco-friendly community for 30 days. In Dancing Rabbit EcoVillage, there is only solar electricity, all food eaten is grown and harvested on-site (read: no meat, although the man of the New York pair did hunt for and kill a rabbit, much to the distaste of some of the commune members), and even their diesel car was re-engineered to run on vegetable oil, which they collected from local fast-food restaurants after it was no longer usable for human consumption. They said it smelled like a french-fry car. Yum. Everyone at the EcoVillage seemed more laid back. That is, until the residents smelled hair spray, perfume, and other "products" that were polluting their air. Boy that got them stinkin mad.

So is that what we will be reduced to in a matter of years? Driving around in electric or french-fry cars? Paying twice as much for everything to reduce our trash output by only about 20%? I don't think so. I think there are many more folks who will buck the system and continue to use styrofoam cups and throw their aluminum cans in the trash. Recycling may be the wave of the future but I have a feeling it may go the way of the metric system. If you don't know how to use the metric system, you get the point.

Even with the cars. Yes, gas prices are coming down, but for how long? Yes, alternate fuel vehicles are becoming more popular. But Americans are just too egocentric (me included) to inconvenience themselves for the betterment of the earth. For example, I rented a van this summer, after my car accident, which ran on Flex Fuel. I was all for putting the Flex Fuel in the vehicle, but I drove to 3 separate stations without finding a pump. I was not about to drive all over town to get that fuel. So, I used regular old unleaded (which Enterprise told me would be okay). I thought to myself, "Well I HAD considered buying one of those Fex Fuel Chevy Tahoes, but if I can't even get gas for it in my hometown, let alone in some town I don't know, forget it!" See, America has so many problems ahead of them before the car industry can catch up. Towns are too spread out. Public transportation is not widely available. Americans are selfish about their cars - I mean, how many working adults even participate in a carpool? And I'm not talking about the under-16 crowd piling together to go to school. I mean the actual adults who have a CHOICE to share breathing space with other adults who have bad breath, B.O., annoying habits, etc. Face it, we like to be alone in the safe confines of our vehicles where we can sing out loud to Madonna, pick our noses, and arrive or depart at whatever time we damn well please.

So what's a mom with impressionable kids to do? Well, first off, I try to support what they're being taught about recycling at school, given what they are learning isn't bunk. If my kids want to save the earth, hug a tree, and live in a mud hut when they grow up, I figure, let them dream and they can learn to be pessimistic later. Also, I promise I will try to separate my aluminum cans from my coffee grounds and my plastic bottles from my plastic wrap. So for now I will try to remember to put my big green recycling tub at the curb once every week. And when my kids throw away a Kleenex and see a Diet Coke can in the trash, they will inevitably remind me, "Mom, we have to recycle this!" to which I will sheepishly respond, "Oh, THANK YOU for reminding me...."