Not A Christmas Letter

Dear Friends & Family,

This year I will not be sending out a Christmas card or letter.

No, none of us has become hideously disfigured making us a photographic nightmare.

No, nothing horrible or shameful has happened in our lives that we are hiding.

Yes, we have done and accomplished things professionally, musically, and academically...but we are not going brag. (My daughter's marching band went to the Competetive Marching Band State Finals this year...little brag)

We, (and by "we" I mean, "me", Allie) have decided to not go nutty this holiday season. Let us be honest, there are a lot of details that go into the holidays. Let's be even more honest and admit most of those details get placed upon moms. That is right, the majority of the frenzy is placed upon the ladies. Or at least that is how I see (and feel) it.

This is my act of rebellion. (I need to get out more, or at least read a book about how to be properly rebellious)

I am taking a page from Queen Elsa's book and "Letting It Go". (Yes, I saw FROZEN a couple times this year).

I love my friends & family.

I wish everyone well.

I will not be sitting up until 2am addressing envelopes to prove my love. Trust me. I still love and care for you, whether or not the postperson drops a card & letter in your mailbox.

The only thing I was going to miss was writing the letter. Lucky for me, I have a blog. So I can write and send this to whomever likes to read it. AND I can be editorially sarcastic and not overly sentimental & sweet. (We all know I struggle with sweetness)

Take some time during this bustling time of year to enjoy your friends, family, and sanity. Pick what you love to do, and do it with joy. And leave the tedious stuff off your list.

Happy Holidays!

An Arguement for Human Cloning

This past weekend was packed full of activities for our family. It is nice to be busy, but it is not great to have to chose who is going to what events. Especially when it is choosing between two really fun and meaningful events. This is why human cloning really needs to happen. (Human cloning does not need to happen for meetings or appointments, just for fun stuff). This past weekend was my daughter's first marching band competition of the season. It was also my adorable niece's 3rd birthday (She lives 3 hours away with my fabulous sister & charming brother-in-law. They are some of my favorite people of all time.) I am not being even slightly dramatic when I say it was a "Sophie's Choice" moment trying to decide what to do. Once again the "divide & conquer" strategy had to be employed. I went with my son to the birthday party. My husband went with my daughter to the marching band competition.  And we all reconnected Sunday afternoon. We shared all the funny and silly things that happened at each of the events.

I would like to say this was just perfect, and we were all thrilled. The truth is we all enjoyed our weekend activities, but we all lost out on being together as a family. If we each had a clone, we could have done it all, TOGETHER. All of us could have arrived at the birthday party and laughed at the antics of a three year old, sang songs with her, and enjoyed the family fun. AND...All of us could have gone to the marching competition and watch the band take first place in there division. We would not have to divide & conquer, we could clone & go.

I am currently ignoring the downside of having a clone (i.e. having to clean up after myself and my clone. My clone borrowing my shoes, when my daughter already does...And what if her clone borrows my shoes too??? Oh the humanity!!!) There would probably be more problems caused by having a spare husband, son, daughter, and self. It would probably end poorly. However, maybe for one weekend I would not feel so out of the loop on one side of my life, and yet so thrilled that I got to have a sing-along with my niece & son. I want it all. (and I kind of want a clone too)

I Admire You

I do not use the word "admire" very often.  Correction, I use the word "admire" often, but generally in a sarcastic and snarky way where it pretty much means the opposite.  However today, I am talking true admiration for a special group of people.  People I really did not know existed. A very rare breed of people.  These people are divorced people that co-parent and treat each other with respect, kindness, and a genuine caring. One former couple that I know does this amazingly well.  We have same aged kids in activities together so we encounter each other often.  I knew this couple divorced several years ago.  My husband did not realize they were divorced until a few weeks ago when their child said something about "at my dad's house" in front of my beloved.  This prompted some questions later to clear up his confusion.  Here are the reasons he believed them to be married...

• They sit by each other at events
• They talk and laugh with each other
• Their kids are good and well adjusted (this is based on observation, they could be monsters at home, but he has never seen it)
• They speak kindly about each other

(Okay, maybe the above does not seem like remarkable stuff, but my beloved and I really love each other and often just sit in silence with each other at public events (and on our own couch).  It is not an uncomfortable silence.  We just do not feel like talking.)

I have always believed this un-couple was just a anomaly, pretty much two peace doves in the the world of divorce that has so many acrimonious vultures.  I admire them.  I do not admire that they are not together anymore, but the fact that they have risen above whatever caused them to divorce to be parents to their kids first, is beautiful.

Just a few days ago I found out another one of my daughter's friends has peacefully divorced parents as well. I would have never guessed they were not together, for pretty much the same reasons my beloved listed above for the other super un-couple.  Kindness, respect, and genuine caring can be felt around these co-parents.  How did these people learn to put the resentment and other broken relationship garbage away?  It is so unselfish.  It is so admirable.

I am not sure if I could be that kind and respectful if I were divorced from my beloved.  The very ugly truth about me is, I like to be right, and I like to win.  I fight with these truths about myself.  Constantly asking myself;  is "being right" is worth the fight?  No, is generally the correct answer.  However, when I am hurt or feeling insecure (the type of feelings very present in a broken relationship), it is challenging for me to not fall back into "being right" and "win at all costs" mode.  Human nature is real jerk sometimes.

I admire those people who have decided (I honestly believe they have made a very deliberate choice) to be friendly with their ex-spouse.  Whether their kids know it now, or maybe will only realize it much later, their mom and dad put them first.  These co-parents put aside their brokenness in favor of their kids' completeness.  This is something I can truly admire.

Under Construction: the teen years

Betsy, my sister, and I were recently having a conversation, and then an e-mail exchange about a teen situation with my daughter.  My maternal confidentiality code keeps me from elaborating too much, but it is a typical teen thing.  Nothing dangerous.  Nothing that a few years, some red wine (for me, not my child), and many more sister talks will not remedy.  One of my responses to my very wise social worker sister, was that it seems my daughter is under construction right now.  Everything is messy, loud, and the dust gets kicked up, but when the construction is done, she is going to be really something magnificent.  However, right now I am living in a construction zone.  And the contractor is taking His sweet time getting the project done.  Okay, I know everything good is worth the wait.  I am not wishing time away.  I am not.  It just gets tough living with a teen.  They are irritable, hormonal, and often confrontational.  They can also be sweet, generous, kind, and compassionate.  The trick is figuring out who is coming out of that ransacked room on any given morning.  Or who will walk back in the front door after school.  It is impossible to know.  It could be an angel, or it could be the anti-Christ.  (I exaggerate, because I can, and the other "a" word I was thinking of was not much better).  Either way she is my child and I love her.

I love her smile, and her frown.
I love her hopefulness, and her despair.
I love her laughter, and her tears.
I love her joyful shouts, and her angry rants.

Some say I have to because I am her mother, it is my job.  Even on the days when it feels like I am parenting two of her, the "good one" and the Incredible Hulk.  It will all pass.  She is learning how to navigate the world with more independence.  Sometimes it is awesome, sometimes it is awesomely frustrating.  I get it.  I have been there.  In many ways I am just as frustrated.  I want to have bouts of tears, and yell too.  I want to fix the problems. I want to tell her how to do everything so it will work out.  I can't,  because then she will never figure out that she has the solution to problems, the big ones and the small ones.  It is my job to keep my cool, and drop casual advice (like clues for a scavenger hunt, just enough to get her in the right direction, but not solving the riddles completely)   When dealing with teens it is best to stay calm, even if it is a false calm at times.  Many days are "fake it 'til you make it" around here.

It would be cruel to use the words "hot mess" to describe this phase of human development, but sometimes the truth hurts.  Most of us grow out our hot messiness.  Sure, there are some people that are still living the drama of the hot mess life, I am not going let my daughter be that person.  I will tolerate her dust, and the commotion caused by her growing into who she is meant to be.  I will also appreciate and celebrate all of the beautiful milestones and achievements the next few years will bring.  Taking the good with the bad.

She is under construction, pardon the dust.

Marching Band Rules

My very musically gifted daughter has joined her high school's marching band.  Okay, she pretty much joined it back in June, that is how long the band has been meeting and practicing.  They practice a lot.  A LOT.  Long practices.  Frequent practices.  Many, many, many practices.  They went away to camp, the whole lot of them, and practiced playing and marching and moving.  They are pretty good.  I say this with a completely untrained eye and ear.  I never marched.  I attempted to play musical instruments, with little success, even though I was stationary in a chair the entire time.  I am not musical.  I am creative, and gifted in other ways.  I can make up alternate lyrics to almost any song (the pitch of the signing is sketchy).  I can write simple poems.  I write this blog (although I am not sure if that qualifies as "being creative", but I write and people understand what I write.  The word on the street is, not everyone can write in a way people understand their message.).   Non-musical mom says this marching band is pretty good.  Mom who is rather sick of driving back and forth says, "They better be good for all the practicing they do.  For all the practicing, they should be marching down the streets of Pasadena on New Year's Day in the blessed Rose Bowl Parade".  Sick of driving mom is pretty grouchy, but she has a solid point.

Marching Band, from my rookie marching parent perspective, seems to have a set of rules.  Not necessarily written rules, but rules like prison.  Unwritten, sometimes unspoken rules, that you must figure out to move seamlessly among the other inmates marching parents.  I am not sure if a veteran marching parent will shiv you for messing up, or breaking a rule, but they may shun you or talk behind your back.  (I am a direct kind of girl.  I may prefer a shiv between the shoulder blades).  Anyway, here are the rules I have surmised thus far:

Marching Band Rules

1. The band will compete in competitions.  When you ask what exactly marching band competitions are,  you will be told, "Competitions are so much fun".  When you try to get beyond "the fun" aspects, you will be asked to drive several marchers to the competition, and help haul props out on the field for performances.  That sounds like work, I am not sure where any fun will be had . 
2. Practice begins fifteen minutes before the stated time. 
3. Practice ends ten to fifteen minutes later than the stated time. 
4. The drums are always playing.  Percussionist do not care, they never did.  I am curious to see what the walls must look like in a drummer's home.  God bless those parents.
5. The Marching Band will always be doing some type of fundraiser. I could go on a preach on how the Arts are underfunded, and it is a shame.  I could tell you how playing an instrument is connected with higher achievement in math.  I won't.  I will just try to sell you some festive holiday greenery, or flowers in the spring.
6. To be in band your student must purchase shirts indicating their class, their section, and the show they are performing this season in the band.  The student will hit up the parents for the money.
7. Band Parents are to wear shirts indicating they are part of the marching band.
8. Band Parents sit near the band at football games.
9. Your marcher will be tired all the time, but still want to attend the frequent, long practices
10. You will ALWAYS be able to see your marcher (and they will look the best) even though the goal is for the whole band to blend together as a single moving force.

I know this much to be true of marching band.  I alternately hate and love the marching band.  When viewing the family calendar and seeing how many days it takes up, or having to go on vacation without my daughter because she was at band camp during the summer, or seeing her blistered feet that she will continue to march upon...I hate it.  However, when I hear her talk about the new friendships she has made, and sit in the stands on a Friday night, under the lights and see her take the field playing and moving forward, backward, and side to side whilst playing her clarinet...well, then I really love the marching band.  She is learning to use her time wisely, work hard, and be a team player.  All of those things will serve her well academically and socially.  Sure, I still have to figure out all the marching band rules.  I will have to do fundraisers.  I will drive the wheels off my car.  But maybe, just maybe, someday I will say, Marching Band, RULES!!! 

(maybe) 

Feline Friday

Massively freaked out!

I am not sure if I am actually get to five random things today, because I am a new mom!   The adorable ball of fluff you are seeing is Zazzles!  So we shall rename the day FELINE FRIDAY.  If you are not a cat fancier, sorry.  You are missing out on some of the most indifferent unconditional love in the world.  I was missing this aloof affection and adoration. We adopted a one year old cat this week.  I had forgotten what younger cats were like.  Our Yoda was 17 years old when she left us, and though I always felt she was rather feisty and spry, I am now being reminded more of what her earlier years were like.  Not that Zazzles is like Yoda...or that I even want that (I do not.  I want to appreciate them as the individuals they are).  However, all cats do certain things as youngsters that fade with age.  The biggest thing is how surprised Zazzles is by the sounds and sights of her new house.  I forget that she is new to house living.  Dishwashers are loud.  Vacuums are terrifying (although I am pretty sure that all of the other humans in my household are equally terrified of the vacuum).  Everything is surprising.  I also forgot how nosy cats can be.  I was accustom to Yoda walking up  going through bags and even my purse.  She gave everything a cursory looking over.  It was second nature.  Yoda also stole pens from my purse, and put them under the dresser in the bedroom. (It has been nice being able to find basic office supplies for the past few months)  Zazzles stalks all bags, bats everything around them, then steals a glance inside and then runs off.  Empty mouthed...so far.  She is not confident in her snooping.  Perhaps in time she will grow more confident in her snooping skills...or perhaps not.  Either way it is nice to have her lovely, indifference in my home.

Relaxed .

Resolutions are for Chumps

The title says it all, resolutions are for chumps.  It has taken me many years to realize this particular fact.  I can be a little slow to catch on sometimes, but never with witty comeback.  I do plan on making some changes in 2013, tweaking my lifestyle, cleaning up, throwing out, eating less, moving more...all the good stuff.  However, I refuse to call any of it a "resolution" because as soon as I do it will become a point of rebellion.  Yes, I am even a petulant child with myself (I am sure this fact is of great comfort and humor to my parents).  No one likes to hear "no" or "you can not" or "you should not" or "you must" and the worst "it is good for you".  All of these things cause a rebellion in my soul.  I do not need my soul to rebel.  Along with the rebellion in the soul, is the fact that falling off the resolution wagon makes people stop making progress.  I say so what if you mess up, start over again.  In the past I have set dates for areas to be cleaned, pounds to be lost, and other goals, and when the goal was not achieved said, "Suck it. I am done", and then was completely annoyed and mad at myself.  Thus leaving a half cleaned out closet, and frustration.  No more big plan.  No more dates.  I am just doing.  I fully accept that I am going to make poor choices, slack off, and be human.  I am cool with that, and I will keep plugging away and making progress.

Perhaps mostly I am learning about being forgiving of myself.  Actually allowing myself to be human.  It is amazing how cruel we can be to ourselves.  How harshly we judge ourselves.  It sets us back when we beat ourselves up constantly over little things.  If  I was as cruel to others as I have been to myself I would not have a friend in the whole world, or a husband, or custody of my children.  I admit I have been a beast to myself.   My inner voice (and we all have one, do not call me crazy) has at times been a soul crusher.  Yes, I have crushed my own soul far more than any other person ever has, or ever could.  That is a rather sickening  realization.  However, I do not think I am unique in this self inflicted agony.  We are brutal to ourselves, too brutal.  Self-kindness is a relatively new concept for me, perhaps something that has evolved over the past five or six years.  And I am still rather imperfect at the whole self-kindness thing too, but I am not giving up on being nice to me.  My inner voice is far more kind than it ever was in my 20's, and let us not even talk about what a bitch my teen inner voice was (UGH!).  Resolutions just give my inner voice food for negativity.  Accomplishing things in real time, whether it is a blog post, or laundry, or a good book, or a long walk, or playing a game with my kids, is far more important, fulfilling, meaningful, and soul building than tasks checked off a time tabled chart.  Sure, goals are necessary at times, but not when they become internal weapons of soul destruction when the standards are not met.  Never give up on being nice to yourself...and if resolutions make you feel like a failure, remember, resolutions are for chumps, and you are no chump.

And, sincere apologies for not bringing the lighthearted funny today, sometimes a girl needs to be serious. It is okay to have feelings and feel those feelings...no matter what your therapist says.  And bonus, you learned I am human and not just a snark machine.        

My Funny Greyhound

The great thing about greyhounds  is they sit still enough to
stack a toy on their head

Yesterday, it was confessed that we are bad fish caregivers.  However we are excellent dog caregivers.  We have photo proof of so many of Ninja's cute and sleepy exploits.  She is a wonderfully patient dog.  We have heard that greyhounds, as a breed, are just easy going and good family dogs.  This is very true.

Sometimes two toys

Occasionally she does naughty things like using the
pillow of my daughter's friend who put her sleepover stuff
on the floor. (She even fell asleep on the pillow)

Honestly, adopting the greyhound was one of the best  choices we have ever made regarding pets.  Ninja likes everyone, very seldom barks, and enjoys sleeping.  She also likes going for walks and running her fast laps in the backyard.  
Sure, we missed the puppy phase of her life because she was raised to race, then raced for a year or two. She came to live here as a 3 year old, retired racer.  Retirement suits her well.  If you need a breed of dog that is friendly, loving, and a source of comic relief...consider adopting a greyhound.

All Kinds of Blindness

Last night I was watching 60 Minutes, yes the durable television news show, and no, I did not then look for Murder She Wrote reruns to watch afterward, (but I thought about it).  First of all I love 60 Minutes, always have, even as a child.  This fact has nothing to do with my topic today, but I feel it necessary to let you know that if it is covered on 60 Minutes, it is relevant to me.  I also miss Andy Rooney, and felt like he was own crabby granddad (he was not).

Anyway, the wonderful Leslie Stahl did a piece on Face Blindness.  What?  Yes, some people can not visually discern between faces.  Even the faces of their own family members.  All faces just look like eyes, nose, and mouth.  Facial features between people are indistinguishable to those afflicted with face blindness.  This seemed so amazingly odd to me.  All the people that were interviewed for this piece were of normal (and a few of extremely high) intelligence, and had successful careers.  Some had families, one woman could not identify a picture of her own daughter's face.  Really these were regular people that can not recognize faces.  This was simply astonishing to me.  These people rely on voice, body shape, and other features to identify people.  So the changing of a hair color or style, could result in a face blind person not recognizing you at all, even if it is a close co-worker or spouse or sibling.  The kicker...most of these people did not realize they had an issue recognizing faces until adulthood.  They all admitted they were always challenged in social situations, but had (and still have) no idea what they are missing.

My son is colorblind.  It is a genetic trait so he always was and will see color in a way that most of the population will never understand.  Yes, most colorblind people can see color, but differently, a bit more muted in shading.  Their world is not black and white. Complete color blindness does exist, but is very uncommon. Honestly, I did not have confirmation that my little guy was colorblind until a year ago.  All through pre-school and kindergarten he identified colors on all assessment with no concerns mentioned by his teachers.  Looking back, this is pretty amazing because some shades of greens, blues, purples, and grays are all very similar for him.  He compensates by memorizing shadings and having reference items for colors.  It is quite amazing that at seven years old he does this.  Then I remember, that is all he knows.  He has no idea what he is not seeing.  I only know from doing some research how he does see things, but only in a very limited way.

 Normal color vision seeing
 rainbow colors.

 My son seeing rainbow colors with his
type of color deficiency.

These are the rainbow color pictures that I  found most helpful in understanding red/green color deficiency.  Which is my son's type.  There are several types of color deficiency.  Selfishly, I only care about the one that effects him.  Mostly because I have to help him in some situations.  I am completely amazed that we had no idea.  It really shows how much people can compensate for conditions.  I also feel sad when I look at the two different pictures of a rainbow, because I can see how many colors he will never see.  However, as I said before, he does not know, he will never know.  FYI, his favorite color is blue, which is cool because know we are seeing the same thing.

These two examples of blindness, that those afflicted have no idea what they are missing, remind me that we all have blindness in our life.  Most of our blindness can not be diagnosed by doctors like face blindness and colorblindness. Some people are blind to other people's feelings, some are blind to bad relationship patterns,  some are blind to their own ignorance.  We all are a blind in some way.  Perhaps going through our whole lives not knowing what we are missing and not seeing.  Sometimes this is good, sometimes it is bad.  I know that my son's color blindness has helped me understand him in a different way.  I admire how hard he has to work to compensate, and he has no idea.  My spouse often puts things in perspective for me at by saying, "You know, sometimes we don't know, what we don't know".  And I guess that statement covers all kinds of blindness.

Whimsical Gargoyle Tuesday

This is a bit of child art.  We have a lot of kid art because my daughter is a very creative, artsy type person.   The gargoyle is one of my favorite pieces of her work.  I like the color, and the rather smug, self-assured grin on his face.  It is very whimsical.  She made this a couple years ago.  Lately her art has taken the form of  music.  She plays clarinet, bass clarinet, and recently picked up a saxophone and discovered she can play that too.  It is impressive to see how easily music comes to her.  Impressive because I never easily took to any instrument.  I tried a few and found frustration.  I love to listen to music.  My beloved is a musician and has clearly passed his musical aptitude to our daughter.  I am not sure where her visual arts ability came from (perhaps it is all her own). I do know that I grin much like this gargoyle when I hear her playing any of her instruments.

The Bus Stop

Every school day I walk my son to his bus stop. I also pick him up each afternoon, well occasionally my daughter will go pick him up, but generally it is me. The thing I find remarkable is the amount of parents that drive their child to and from the bus stop. There are people who live just houses away from the stop that drive each and everyday, and then return home. This has happened for years. I have always thought it was odd, but to each his own. I happen to enjoy the time we are walking and talking. It is a small moment that we enjoy. Today two or the driver parents were standing by the line, their cars still running, complaining about gas prices. Am I the only one that finds it completely absurd that someone is STANDING next to their RUNNING car that is five houses away from their home complaining about gas prices? I was literally biting my tongue so I would not say something. I really do bite one my tongue to keep my words inside. Just thinking,"do not say anything", is often not enough for me. I honestly was shocked by the stupidity of the whole situation. First of all I am annoyed daily by having to stand in the exhaust of their vehicles while waiting for my son to get on the bus. I have never understood why they leave their cars running for the five, sometimes ten minute wait for the bus. (The bus driver runs on his own special time. As soon as we assume he will arrive later, he starts arriving earlier and busses get missed. It is what it is.) Anyway, knowing that gas prices actually concern these people that I have always assumed own stock in BP, just makes me shake my head. If I were at all savvy with numbers, I would calculate how much money they could save not driving to the bus stop, and also have numbers for how much money they could save not letting their care idle for five to ten minutes. I am not a numbers person, I am happy if my checkbook is within ten dollars of the actual amount. So no calculations will be made. Let us just agree they could save some cash by not driving unnecessarily. Not to mention they are missing out on great conversation with their kids on a walk to and from the bus stop. Proving my point, here are a few fun and funny facts I have learned recently in walks to or from the bus stop.

1. Some kid puked in the lunchroom (I have actually heard this on more than on occasion)
2. There is a kid in his class that looks up naughty words in the dictionary. (glad to know this is not my kid)
3. There is a fourth grader with the same shoes as his.
4. There is a kid in his class that stuffs himself in his locker to get out of going to art.
5. Some people have bad aim in the bathroom.
6. Various funny things his teacher says and does. She is a great person and a fun teacher.
7. Why anacondas are cooler than chimpanzees, and why he switched from being a chimp to an anaconda for a project.
8. Tooth fairy theories, there are many. A new one for each lost tooth.
9. Countless car facts and buying suggestions for my next vehicle purchase.
10. Utter disgust at how much I do not care about what I drive. I shame him with my belief that a car just gets you from point A to point B. He is a car guy, and this is poison to his ears. It is also a lively ongoing debate.

Theses are some, and just a very superficial few, conversations we have going to or coming from the bus stop. It is perhaps a few of the very best minutes of my day. I know that the jokes we have made up, the rabbits we have named, and the memories we have built are as precious as diamonds to me. And we are not polluting the environment with anything but our laughter.