Mistakes & Myths

A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing. --George Bernard Shaw

Does anyone else subscribe to the Oprah Magazine daily e-mail?  Please say you do, I need to feel some community in my in-adequateness.  I subscribed years ago, when Oprah still had her talk show.  I was an occasional watcher.  I like her interview style, and she really does like a lot of cool stuff, so the "Favorite Things" shows always sucked me in hard.  Anyway, each day I get an e-mail about "Living My Best Life", no harm in trying to be the best me I can be, right?  Life coaching and guidance through the inbox.  Good stuff.  Lately most of the titles contain the word "mistakes" or "myths".

The Six  Hair Mistakes (hint: quit talking to your hairdresser, you are compromising your hairstyle)

The Ten Biggest Relationship Mistakes (oddly sharing to many common interests, and not sharing common interests are both no-nos)

The Biggest Mistakes Women Make When Dieting (Creating too much of a calorie deficit through under eating and over exercising.)

5 Diet Myths Making You Gain Weights (as told by Dr. Oz...do not even get me started) He restates the above "diet mistake" and you need to quit diet soda.

4 Myths About Anti-Depressants (also by Oz) (they are not "happy pills")

So this is the stuff that greets me every morning in my inbox.  All the myths I am believing and mistakes I am making.  It becomes a game to see what I am doing right.  In reading all the myths and mistakes, which are meant to help guide one to being better, or making better choices, a person can, at the least, get rather confused, and at the worst, start feeling like a colossal hot mess.

Lately, I have started to think making mistakes is fine. Is it really so bad to believe in myths?  As a kid I pretty damn happy believing in Santa and the Tooth-fairy.  Loot rolled in.  Life was good.  Granted, the Santa myth is rather harmless, and harboring other false beliefs can be more dangerous.  I guess the whole thing with "Myth Lists" is you sometimes feel like a dummy for not realizing you were off the mark.  However, mistakes are not bad.  Mistakes are some of life's best teachers.

Do not fear mistakes. You will know failure. Continue to reach out. --Benjamin Franklin

 As a mother of a teen daughter I am very guilty of trying to keep her from making mistakes.  (I admit I am a huge hypocrite, and she knows it)  Sure, there are some things that  through sharing stories can help teach and mold.  I certainly do not want her to learn not to drink and drive by getting in a horrific crash.  I do not want her to OD and go to rehab to learn that drugs are dangerous.  The big mistakes I am perfectly willing to share news articles, and other sources to help impress that these are mistakes she does not even want to dabble with.  It is the smaller, but still painful, stuff  that I struggle to not lecture upon.  Most of this involves relationships. Things like, putting to much caring and trust in people that will not reciprocate.  Liking someone who does not even have a inkling of clue how awesome she is as a person.  Believing the myths someone tells to get what they want.  Believing the myth that it does not matter. I never want her to have her heart broken.  I want her to never make mistakes that will hurt.  When I write that I see how absurd it sounds.  Mistakes do hurt.  Some hurt worse than others.  Some myths, like Santa, are harmless, and some are far more insidious.
 
I mock the Oprah Magazine site for sending me lists of mistakes not to make, and myths not to believe so I can I have my "best life".  As if you can really "learn life" from reading an article, or attending a lecture. All the while, I am doing the same thing.  I want to lecture and curate the perfect easy, breezy high school experience for my daughter.  Perhaps that is the big myth I need dispelled.  High school is neither easy, or breezy.  It is a bunch of confused half-adult, half-children wandering about trying to figure out what the heck is happening to them. I just happen to have a very serious interest in only one of these half & half creatures.  I want to send her a list of mistakes not make, and myths to disregard.  I want her to read each bit of information and wisdom as if it were heaven sent.  It is not.  It is just from a person was there, made mistakes, got hurt, got up, and did better the next time.  I would not give up any of it because it helped me become wise.  However, now I have to watch one of the most important people in my life make mistakes, get hurt, get up, and do better the next time.  I need to let her become wise.  You can not give wisdom, you have to earn it.

And no lists or articles in the world could have ever, even remotely, prepared me for this.  

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.

Five for Friday

Our Imaginary Dialog

Reader:  Jeepers! Allie, it has been an eternity since you wrote a Five for Friday. Has nothing random or ridiculous happened in months?  Have you read nothing decent?  Has the whole planet finally come around to your way of thinking?

Allie:  Oh dear one, random and ridiculous is like the water in the Great Lakes that surrounds this pleasant peninsula I inhabit.  It is plentiful and often infested with non-native creatures much like those crazy carp that jump out of the water, and zebra mussels that do whatever they do that is horrible and wrong.

Reader:  Huh, okay then...well, what sort of random ridiculousness have you encountered this week?  (fervently hoping for no more obscure, slightly environmental, but completely baffling references)

Allie:  Wow, thanks for asking, my intelligent and kind reader.  It is so compassionate of you to be concerned with the important and pressing issues in Allieville (population 1, but the visitor center is very busy and their are three squatters in the mayoral mansion)

Reader:  So you have some witty, mildly entertaining musings to share????

Me:  You know I do. You know, I do.

1. The Two Day Heat Wave.  Tuesday and Wednesday were unseasonably hot this week. I had pity upon the school kids.  The self-pity came into play when I had to attend an Open House at the elementary school.  It was hotter than Hades and three times as humid (I hear Hades enjoys a dry heat, much like Death Valley, and  your oven)  The A/C had been turned off  in the hope of using no climate control in the house until mid-October.  I pondered making my family tough it out.  Then folded like a wet paper bag before noon on Tuesday.  The thought of my family coming home, complaining about the heat was too much for me.  These people are getting to me, making soft.  At this rate they may coax me into turning on the heat before October 15th.
2. Word Mashers.  The English language is in peril.  Every year some really sketchy words push their way into the dictionary by popular force.  Words that are like nails on a chalkboard to this lover of words.  In 2012, "sexting", made the dictionary.  (thanks Anthony Wiener, thanks a lot)  The word "earworm" made the dictionary as well.  I happen to fully endorse "earworm", I was actually surprised that it was not already in the dictionary.  My fear is the mashed up words like "amirite" (am I right), and "inorite" (I know, right) will be wholly embraced.  These are horrid phrase/questions already, but to then mash them into one word that ends with up vocal inflection trying to imply a fully formed question makes me crazy.  First of all, no you are not right, and I am pretty sure you know very little when you use these phrase/question atrocities.  A piece of my soul dies every time I hear these abominable language thugs.  I cry for our future if either of these monsters make the dictionary cut.
3. Orange is the New Black (the book).  I recently downloaded this memoir of Piper Kerman's experience in a Federal womens prison.  It is a good read.  She writes very honestly about what landed her in prison, and what it was like for her being locked up for 13 months.  It is cautionary tale for those who make questionable choices in this time of mandatory minimum prison sentences for first time offenders.  Check it out.
4. Orange is the New Black  (TV show).  Netflix has made an original series loosely based upon Piper Kerman's memoir.  Piper is involved in the series production, she is listed in the credits in some capacity..  The series is very entertaining.  It is also rather graphic, not suitable for kids or even teen viewing.  I mean that.  I am no prude, but this is completely adult content.  The book is suitable for teens if they are interested.  The storytelling is very engaging, and you may find yourself sucked into several episodes back to back.  It okay, it's Netflix.  Netflix is all about binge TV watching.
5. Sad, but True.  A few weeks ago my son confronted me in the kitchen about Santa.  My sweet and logical LEGO loving boy stated that he has come to the conclusion that Santa Claus is indeed not real.  Ouch.  He is nine.  He gave a very reasoned argument.  He then chastised me for being a liar.  I informed him that his dad was in on it too.  He then said he is a liar too.  (Which is great because I do not like taking the heat alone.  I will throw people under the bus, even my beloved husband)  Then he promised to play along for his sister's sake.  What???  His sister is 14.  She has never told me where she stands on Santa.  She is the best older sister ever.  She wrote letters to Santa all through middle school.  I know she knows, but she would never say because she would not want to upset her little brother.  I am a little sad.  I will probably still put some stuff under the tree from "Santa" for the next few years.  Now I am wondering if I need to tell my daughter that the little guy has it all figured out?  Maybe someone will e-mail her a copy of this blog.  I do not think she reads me.  Not enough pictures, poor spelling, and LOLing here.

That is all I have for this week my sweet reader. Enjoy your weekend!

Totally random aside.  In my first draft of this entry  in the dialog I had labeled the Reader as "you" and Allie as "me"...then realized it was odd for you to consider yourself as "you" when you are a "me" to yourself.  Pronouns can be your friend and enemy at the same time.

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) 

Busy Rebelling

This week I have been too busy, not that I like it, or I am proud of it.  I am not.  Busy is like a disease sometimes.  If you do not do anything to stop it, it just gets worse.  The more you do, the more people ask you to do, the more you agree to do, and if you are highly competent you can plan on having plans everyday for eternity (okay, I exaggerate a bit). In general Americans seem very proud to be overly busy.  I have friends (and I love them dearly) that will open up their calendar or their calendar app, and show how insanely packed their days and weekends are for the next month or two months.  At times I feel as if they are challenging me to a "busy off".  I am not taking the bait.  I am not proud when my time is double and triple booked.  I do not like to have to serve my family convenience foods, with crappy nutrition because I have spent my day running about, in meetings, or other busy tasks.  I want to enjoy my life.  I want to enjoy my kids.  I want to enjoy my husband.  And I do not want to schedule time to enjoy them.  How hurtful it must be to have your beloved say, "Get out your calendar and let us schedule time for a date night".

How about just spending time together, and paring down on all the extra stuff?  How about asking yourself what your priorities are, and being honest about it?  If something is a priority YOU WILL MAKE TIME FOR IT.  Your partner should not be made to feel like a dentist appointment that needs to be scheduled.  Being busy is just a very good excuse.  It is socially acceptable to be insanely busy.  The chronically busy are lauded as great, productive, and helpful people.  Yes, they are.  However, let us ask ourselves, at what cost?  Probably at the cost of their family, and their own inner peace.

I am not claiming to have it all figured out, but I am telling you, I am no longer proud to be busy.  "Busy-Bee" is not a badge of honor I want to wear.  I would rather be known for how many games I played with my kids, how many books I have read, how many lunches I have had with friends, how many inside jokes my beloved and I have, and a thousand other things that really matter.  I am starting my rebellion against being busy.

Five for Friday

It is another snowy day...so snowy my lovelies have no school.  In fact, my lovelies have not had a five day school week since before their holiday break.  It has worked out that either the school through scheduled days off,or snow days, or a sick little lovely has made each week in 2013 less than five days.  I just told my lovely son that I was going to write, and he pointed out it was snow day so I could skip it. WHAT?  I did not the rules applied to me?  Never.  Here are five random ramblings for a snowy day.  (If you are reading this in a region deprived of snow, I am sorry...and enjoy anyway)

1. Tell me this does not sound like Rick Astley.  This is a band called Swedish House Mafia, and I am telling you the man singing sounds exactly like Rick (Never Gonna Give You Up) Astley.  If you do not remember Rick Astley, you probably do not remember the late 1980's.  My daughter put the SHM tune on our shared iTunes account and the "cloud" put it on my devices.  It is catchy, but I am telling you it sounds just like Rick Astley.  Ahhh, the memories! 
2. Love v. Obligation. Since Valentine's Day (insert my eye-roll here) is coming up next week, I will once again pull out my yearly campaign against VD (is it a coincidence that the abbreviation is the same as that of venereal disease?  I think not).  First of all, I am not an angry lonely heart.  I have been with my beloved for close to 20 years.  He is a wonderful, flawed man that is well matched with this wonderful, flawed lady.  We work together.  Do I expect, or even want him on the 14th day of each February to suddenly shower me with gifts and flowers?  ABSOLUTELY NOT.  February 14th is not a significant day for us.  A day on the calendar should not make a person acknowledge their love for their significant other.  Love is a choice, not an obligation.  Perhaps I am just lucky to know that I am loved and valued everyday of the year.  No roses and flowers required.
3. Mandatory Craftiness.  Have you ever been asked to do something, and because you did not completely fail at it, people then think you are good at it?  That is me and kid's crafts.  Yes, I have lots of ideas, and a glue gun...but all of it is very forced.  I do not enjoy crafting very much.  I learned to crochet, but I would prefer to read a good book (or even a mediocre book...or the nutrition info on cereal).  However, now I have a reputation as an arts & crafts person.  I suppose there are worse things I could have a reputation for...but sometimes even those things seem less painful than planning a craft for 35 Cub Scouts.
4. Nerdiness.  It is okay to be nerdy.  My daughter is at that special age when many girls forgo being the lovely intelligent people they are so they can play dumb to get boys to help them with their homework, or just because they think being smart is not pretty.  Wrong.  Smart is pretty.  Thus far, my daughter has not abandon her brain.  She is very proud that she has the best grade in her German class.  She asks her dad questions about Algebra, because she does not want anyone in her class to know that it is sometimes it is confusing.  (And she knows to not ask me about it because...well she is smart).  Her favorite TV show is The Big Bang Theory, because she thinks scientists are funny and cool.  She is proud that she is a gifted musician.  Sometimes she says she is "nerdy".  Which is fine, but sometimes she says it as if it is a bad thing (just sometimes).  And that makes me nervous.  I am afraid the thought of pretending to be dumb crosses her mind.  I pray every night that she fully embraces her intelligence, and understands that nerdiness is awesome.  
5. Waiting for Exercise to Get Fun.  I have become exercise tolerant, because it is necessary for good health.  Just like brushing my teeth (I actually love brushing my teeth, always have).  I am still waiting for it to fun.  I hear people rave about have much they  love to workout.  I am glad they feel that way, but I am generally most pleased when the workout is over.  Yes, some workouts can be fun, but I generally do not appreciate that "fun" until it is over, or in the cool down phase.  I have also never learned to fully enjoy cleaning bathrooms, but I love the look of a freshly cleaned bathroom.  Perhaps I am waiting for something that is never going to happen?  I have been cleaning bathrooms for a long time, and it has not become a great joy.  

Precious Cargo

Okay...today I must give credit to old friend from high school for the topic. (Thanks Chris)  I was scrambling for something solid to write about, and nothing on my idea list was producing much inspiration (oddly, on another day I may fight over competing ideas...that is how it goes).  My solution was to ask for ideas from my FaceBook connections.  And BOOM, the perfect idea, a very common problem that most parents face either daily, or if they are lucky only on an occasion or two...THE SCHOOL PARKING LOT.

I am of the opinion that children are the future, and though I do earnestly believe my kids are the smartest, kindest, wittiest, and most precious of all the children on the planet, ALL CHILDREN ARE PRECIOUS AND SPECIAL.  However, I am forced to believe that not all parents hold the view that all children are precious. Why would I think that?  Because some parents drive like absolute fools in the parking lots of their children's school. Parents that drive with no regard for the little people walking around.  Parents with no regard for the safety of the other parents in lot.  Parents that are in such a hurry to get their kid to school and get to work, nothing else seems to matter.   I know school parking lots, and drop-off loops get rather congested and move slowly at drop off and pick up time.  But guess what?  Children move rather slowly when weighed down by backpacks, boots, snow-pants  and the posters of the solar-system.  At pick-up time, children get confused as to which vehicle belongs to their parent (all vehicles with three rows of seating do look similar).  And yes, children wander where they probably should not.  They are children, and they will learn.  Almost hitting them with your car, or honking will not speed this learning process.  School children are confused, but they are precious and special.  For those of you who believe that the middle school and high school parking lots will be better to manage, let go of this notion.  The same parents that drove like fools in the elementary parking lots will be driving like fools in the secondary school parking lots.  Not to mention, if you thought young children were confused; texting, hormonal teens are confused and conflicted.  Yes, I get frustrated in the parking lots at my children's schools, but unlike many, I am fine with driving slowly and watching for kids (because they are precious and special).  Call me crazy, but I think that all parents should do same thing.  Both of the schools that my kids attend send out letters and maps at the beginning of the school year that indicate traffic flow patterns, drop-off zones, and parent parking.  I find it helpful to follow these guides as if they were enforceable by law (they are not, but it keeps me honest, even when I am in a hurry).

Here are some helpful thoughts and guidelines for dealing with school parking lots.

1. Follow the recommended traffic and parking patterns.  If it does not make sense and you have a better idea that would improve traffic flow, write it up and propose it to the principal.  I am sure he/she would take it under consideration for the next school year.
2.  Drive slowly.  I have seen so many parents just gun the engine as soon as their child is out of vehicle and on the side walk.  Yes, it is now your time to get out of lot, and get on with your day, but other children are still in the lot.  It is a parking lot, not a drag strip.
3. Walk your really young ones to the building.  Kindergartners and first graders generally need parental guidance to get to the school building.  I have walked other people's young children to their entrance doors on several occasions because their parents dropped them off, pulled away, and never realized their child was uncertain of where to go.  Kids get confused sometimes.   
4. No swearing or gesturing.  I am not known for having the cleanest language on the planet, but even I can get in and out of a school parking lot without swearing out loud (I keep it all on the inside, with a pretty smile on my face).  Gestures are right out, completely unacceptable.  For the children, keep your road rage in check.
5. We all have somewhere else to go. No one wants to be jammed in the school lot.  Your job is no more important than other persons.  Leave your house earlier if you are in a time crunch.  Otherwise deal with it.
6. All of our kids are the most precious and special people in the world.  Watch out for all of them and keep them safe.

**There was no really good way to tie this personal account of the confused & conflicted teen in the post.  So here it is as a funny aside.  I was parked, in a parking space in my mini-van, at my daughter's school and a kid that was texting walked right into the side of van.  Not just at the front bumper, right into the side where passenger door is.  He looked up and saw me in the driver seat staring at him, and I was giggling (because it was hilarious).  He turned, walked away, and then tripped over one of those cement bumper things in the parking lot.  It was truly precious and special.  I fear natural selection may get that young fellow. 

Not Yet

Life moves pretty fast.  If you do not stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. -Ferris Bueller

Do you ever have that moment when you realize time has flown by?  Recently I have had two situations that have caused the startling realization that time just zips by...pow...that fast.  When I was young it seems like time crawled.  The school day stretched endlessly (not in a good way).  It seemed like I was always waiting for something to end, and something else to begin, and the wait was torturous.  Time seemed to creep backward, if that was possible.  In my youth I truly believed that time was my slow moving enemy keeping from my future.  I am on record stating that I WAS WRONG.  Time is still my enemy, but because it is moving so damn fast.  I want to hit pause I so many things now.  A hug with my kids or my beloved (pause...make it last).  The silly times with friends over lunch or cup of coffee (pause...savor the moment).  It is the little things that are so precious.

Yoda in November 2012

Recently I had to put down my cat, Yoda.  She was seventeen years old, she had kidney disease, she was deaf, her eyesight was poor, she had a heart murmur...she was very old for a cat.  In the human equivalent to her 17 cat years is 96 years old.  Logically, it was time.  She was in pain.  She needed to be carried to her litter box.  We had to coax her to eat, unless it was her treats...she begged for those until the very end.  No matter how many people tell me that 17 years is a long time to have the same cat, I still do not believe it in my heart.  Seventeen years flew by with Yoda.  She was our first pet.  She outlasted two dogs.  She helped raise two kids.  Yoda was at my side for every late night feeding with both kids.  My beloved would be fast asleep while Yoda and I tended to the baby.  Yoda would lay sleeping on my lap watching infomercials when insomnia was not going to let me sleep. (Cats seldom suffer from insomnia)  Seventeen years pretty much just flew by.  I have made a photo book of Yoda, and it has so many great memories.  I can see how time advanced through changing paint colors, furniture, fashion, hair cuts, hair colors, and of course the growth of my kids.  I am glad I have all the picture memories, but I still wish I had her actually here.  At any single moment, I am not sure that I would have said that time was moving too fast...but as I look back it clearly has been. 

The second event that has triggered the realization that time is flying is a high school open house.  My beautiful 13 year old daughter is currently living in the time-space continuum that I had in my youth.  Nothing can happen fast enough and the world is moving at a turtle's pace. (Ironically, the pet she wants to "replace" Yoda is a turtle)  Tonight we need to go to the high school she will be attending in the September for a tour and informational meeting.  We are approaching this from two very differing perspectives.  

Her perspective: This is awesome.  I can not wait!!!

My perspective: WTH? When did she get old enough to go to high school? How can I stop this crazy train?

Such is life, I suppose.  Perhaps my mother felt the same way, but because she is a reserved, classy lady she never let me see her sweat this kind of stuff.  I am more of a force of nature. ("Subtle, like a sledge hammer", my father has said about me, more than once)  I am not holding in my feelings. My daughter knows that I am full of angst over her growing up.  No one is trying to keep her a child.  We have conversations about the current issues that face teens and young adults (I am not a moron)  I just do not like how fast time has flown by.  Can't we pause and have just a wee bit more time?  I also realize I have been amazing blessed to be a stay at home mom for  my daughter for most of her life, and all of my son's life.  It seems rather Peter Pan-like for me to want to keep my kids at their present ages, but at this moment they are just right.  I suppose I would have said the same thing at every age (after they were potty trained...momma never loved the diapers)

The point is (as if I really care if I have a "point")...time flies, and sometimes that notion catches up with you and it sucks, and at the same time it is beautiful because you see some amazing growth.  Sometimes we really do not like that time keeps marching on, but it does.  We just have to remember to stop, look around, and enjoy the moments...no matter how fast they are moving.   

Not Feeling It

Do you recall as a child your parents would ask you to do something, and you did not want to, but you did it only because you respected and /or feared your parents?  Sometimes I feel like I need my parents to come and harp at me again.  Sometimes I am just not feeling it, and really do not want to do stuff.  Today, it was planning a meeting for Cub Scouts.  Just not feeling much like hanging out with a bunch or 8 and 9 year old boys.  Being completely  honest, I leave most den meetings rather exhausted and hugely grateful that my son does not act like a majority of his peers.  If he acted like his peers, I would have to consider adoption as his only way of making to adulthood.  I get the distinct feeling that some of these boys get a "not feeling it" pass from their parents, instead of the prodding and nagging until projects and chores are completed.  It is all the prodding and nagging from my childhood that have made me into the self-motivated person I am today.  Prodding and nagging gives a person internal discipline.  I push through the "not feeling it" feeling all the time.  No mom required. (I would love to see her more, but on a non-nagging basis).  Am I the only parent that still nags and prods their children to do things?  And if so, WHY???

Please do not get the idea that all I do is bark orders and directions at my kids.  I do not.  We are at a point that I can state a time, or an activity, and they know to complete getting ready for whatever is on the agenda.  We are a family of routine.  Expectations have been set, and generally these expectations are met.  Things happen in a very logical way, and this predictable pattern has given the whole family unit a disciplined routine.  No surprises at this house.  And, yes, we still have fun.  I am not Captain VonTrapp whistling patterns for my children to answer.  Rooms are still messy, and get cleaned.  We still scramble to find gloves, shoes, phones, and such.  There is no standard of perfection set for anyone.  However, we ALL know we have to do the crappy stuff...even if we are not feeling it.  Which is why I struggle when dealing with children who completely lack this drive, or even the spirit to be motivated by anything.  I just can not relate.  As a child I would never, ever, say "NO" to a request from an adult.  (Some may argue it is this same inability to say "no" that has me as a den leader...that is not the point, but admittedly I have "Yes" Syndrome).  No exaggeration, I get told "NO", by some of my scouts for simple requests like, "Please clean up your snack mess".  No kidding.  It does not sit well with me.  I give the "show respect for yourself, by showing respect for others" lecture at least two times per meeting, minimum.  It is a lovely speech, but hearing that message every other week may not be enough to build the good character necessary to become a good human being.  It is scary that many parents still dismiss there child's rude behavior as "boys being boys".  No, it is rude being rude.  "Not feeling it" is not acceptable for me and it is not acceptable for my kids.  As a scout leader, I take it as my responsibility to model and instill showing respect.  So, despite my NOT FEELING IT (at all), I have planned a fun meeting full of activities.  Maybe this meeting will be "respect lecture" free...a girl can dream.     

Damn Near Survivalists...yeah whatever

This past weekend a bold move was made in my household.  Something that borders on sacrilegious in some circles.  Something so heinous we waited for our teenage daughter to be out of town for the weekend before we made our move.

We disconnected the cable.  Yup, if you come to our house you will be watching TV through the antennae.  High Def air signal.  Let me tell you, it is not as horrible as it sounds.  We get a lot of stations, the major networks, PBS, and some other riff raff stations.  Its going to be fine.  I think of it as being a survivalist right now, living off the entertainment that floats in the air around us.  Our daughter was appalled when she arrived home to a place void of any cable boxes.  She asked several times if we were joking.  She asked if we just hid the cable boxes as a joke. (As if we would move furniture and go to such trouble for a joke.  C'mon lazy apple, you came from these lazy trees).   She was genuinely shocked, which surprised me because we have talked of disconnecting cable for close to a year now.  That is how we roll, lots of discussion, so much chatter you become certain nothing will ever really happen, then BAM a decision is made and swift action is taken.  It is actually rather exciting when my beloved and I decide to take action.  Cue the A-Team theme music...a plan is coming together!

The decision to cancel cable was based on several factors, here are what I would say are the top five.  If you corner my beloved he will give you five absolutely different reasons.  This probably explains why swift action must be preceded by several months of debate.

1. Eldest child's poor TV choices.  My daughter, I love her, she is smart, lovely, and talented, but she has horrible taste in TV shows.  She loves really bad reality TV.  Dance Moms is a favorite.  She has been known to watch Toddlers in Tiaras marathons (yuck).  In fact almost anything shown on TLC can become her "favorite".  Worse than just watching these shows, she also would DVR the shows.  The amount of hours of stupidity recorded on the DVR was ridiculous.  To save her beautiful mind the cable had to go away.
2. My own poor TV choices.  I fully understand where my daughter gets her penchant for crappy TV.  I am a recovering Bravo TV junkie.  I will watch any season and any location of The Real Housewives franchise.  I love those rich bitches.  The arguments. The augmentations.  The botox.  The drama.  It is like crack.  Like a true addict, I would hide my passion and watching of these shows.  NEVER would I DVR an episode.  Nope, I found out that all the episodes were carefully saved for me in the OnDemand feature of our former cable carrier.  I loved that stuff.  I am going to miss it.  I am getting the shakes just thinking about it.  However, I am on the wagon.  I will miss you Andy Cohen and all the Bravolebrities.  I will miss you, deeply miss you.  (Note to local friends, DO NOT let me in your homes to covet your Bravo.  Give me some red wine and listen to to whine, but do not let me go back to that place...it is too much)
3. The 200 channels of background noise.  We found that we really did not actively watch too many shows.  Often the TV is on and each of us has some other device going.  My husband is on his computer or smartphone.  I am on my iPad.  The kids both have iPod touch devices.  So the TV was just background noise.  We have a few shows that we really watch and they are all on network TV.  Spending money for background noise seems silly.  (Note: My beloved and I would probably agree this is top shared reason)
4. Netflix and other streaming services.  Cable seems silly when you can get streaming feeds of programs you actually want to watch through gaming systems.  We just realized we can watch YouTube clips on the big screen of the TV through the PlayStation 3.  Which is awesome since one of our favorite things is to refer each other to crazy stuff we have seen on YouTube.  It becomes a shared activity with all of us contributing to the entertainment.  It is a modern day variety show where we are the producers and directors and captive audience.
5. Money.  I love it when people say, "It is not about the money", that is my clear indicator that is indeed, without a doubt, about the money.  Who does not like having extra money every month?  Fools, that is who.  Cable was a money drain, like a dripping faucet, or a drafty window.  It is not a life changing amount of money being saved, but it is a family night out per month amount.

So now we live a cable-less life.  We are damn near survivalists.  Okay we are nothing close to survivalists.  I know, any day now,  my daughter will forgive us.  Soon the glamorous lives of vapid, self-absorbed people will not be horribly missed.  My son was pretty nonchalant about the whole removal of cable.  He even helped move some furniture to unhook the boxes.  And of course, my beloved, is 100% behind the decision, so he will admit to missing nothing.  We shall see when baseball season rolls around.   I am not going to be so bold as to say we will never go back to cable.  We are not known for quick decisions, or for not changing our minds.   

Fraud Alert

First of all this has nothing credit card or identity theft.  This has to do with math.  I am a math fraud that is about to be exposed.  I have never enjoyed math.  I have taught elementary math.  While teaching math I never let on that I am no fan of mathematics.  No, in fact I would talk about math like it was an old friend.  I would sing the praises of long division whist talking through the annoyingly long process.

• Fractions are fun.  
• Multiplication  is marvelous.  
• Subtraction is sublime.  
• Addition is amazing.  

Yes, I have said all of those things.  I may have even made bulletin boards about all the awesome functions of mathematics.  The truth is I really do not like math, at all.  I am just an expert at putting a good spin on a bad subject.  This fake love of math has served me well.  My kids think I like math.  I have helped them with homework over the years and they have heard the happy song and dance about how awesome numbers and math are.  However, they were young and the math was easy.  Now my daughter is in pre-algebra.  The terms she talks about sound familiar, but I can no longer keep up the charade that I am wise on all things mathematical.  I am likely to to be more of a hindrance than a help if she asks me a homework question now.  My daughter is about to learn that I am a math fraud.  No great confessions are going to made.  No, it will be a subtle realization on her part that her mother is not a math girl.  I wish were, but I am not.  My daughter is a math girl.  She has always liked math and science.  My husband is an engineer and a gifted math man.  She takes after him in her linear, logical, science based mind.  I am word girl, and now my words have gotten me in trouble.

Now, I am am a fraud.  Soon to be exposed.  Perhaps I should have never overstated my love of math.  My mother always said she hated math and was bad at it.  So it was easy for me to feel the same way.  I never wanted my daughter to feel the same way. In my zeal to turn the tides and have a math loving kid,  I overstated my case, and now I must live my fraud existence.  I know that my daughter will be good at math, even when she finds out I am not a math fan.  I am just feeling a little glum that she will know I am a fraud.

Krazy Quote

"Drugs have no nutritional value." ---my daughter's 7th grade Health teacher

This quote has been soaking in my brain for about two weeks now.  This was how my daughter's drug unit in Health 7 started.  Those were the dynamic words that her teacher decided would impact his students.  Not since Nancy Reagan's "Just Say No" campaign have I heard a more lame anti-drug message.  So put down that spoonful of crack cocaine and hear me out on this one.  My daughter is 12 years old chronologically , but is a bit of  an old soul.  She is the kind of kid you can not snow with platitudes, and simple answers.  She can see through fakes, and smell lies.  I love her for it, and I struggle with her for the same reasons.  She finds her Health teacher to be an absurd person, not just because of the drug statement, but for a variety of reasons she has compiled since he was her PE teacher first marking period.  The issue at hand now is this teacher is trying to teach the approved curriculum for Health 7, and the curriculum appears to be very superficial.  I am fine with that.  I would prefer to have it as a jumping off point for our at home discussions on drugs, sexuality, and personal hygiene.  My concern is for the other students that have parents that are not as comfortable talking about sex and drugs.  What about the kids that are just getting the "Just Say No" and "Drugs have no nutritional value" as their messages?  Facts are good, and have value, but not enough.  I know that her teacher is very concerned with personal fitness and well-being, however 12 & 13 years old kids do not care about the nutritional value of things.  Okay, maybe a few kids care about the nutritional value of things, but probably not the kids that are confronted with the choice of using drugs.  As I see it, drug use in kids is tied heavily to feeling accepted and fitting in with peers.  Therefore, just saying no and nutritional value arguments are very unlikely to mean too much at the moment booze or a joint is being passed around.  It is in those moments that actual values need to come in play.  Values that can not be instilled by a class.  Values that need to be discussed, instilled, and practiced at home.

As much as I have mocked the quote by her teacher, I also embrace it as a place for us start talking about smoking, drinking, and drug use.  I am glad my daughter felt comfortable to come home and share that absurd statement with us.  It means that she feels okay introducing uncomfortable topics.  It is nice to not always having to be the one that brings up the tough topics.  If we can make it a little funny it is easier.

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.

Fast Friday

I won't trouble you with the details of my week. In summary, it has been bad. I also have complete faith that next week will be better. Still, even during a trying spell I have some partially humorous and/or absurd things to share.

1. Teachers promising snow days. My poor kids were assured when they were in school Thursday that the weather was going to get so bad that school would be closed on Friday. Well, it was not. Yes, it snowed, issuing was such a paltry amount that closing school would have caused a parent riot. Kids hate broken promises. Shame on you teachers for giving them false hope.

2. Drug facts. Since I educated myself about drugs via a seminar last week, I feel it is my civic duty to share information with you, my dear reader. I will at some point, but here is a funny thing that happened. The presenters did a great job. Every so often they asked the audience questions. Just basic, "Have you heard of __________?", type questions. If you had heard of whatever, the proper response was to raise your hand. My spouse and I had heard of many of the substances and situations, so we would raise our hands. I guess that our "knowledge" bothered the person sitting next to me. At one point he whispered to me, "You two really know your drugs". Somehow I let this comment go with a smile and a shrug. Mind you these were, "Have you heard of ____________?", not "Do you run a meth lab in your basement?". I guess our lack of ignorance made this man uncomfortable. I think it is funny that he thought we were immersed in the drug culture.

3. Girl Scout cookies are being delivered. This time of year highlights how little my beloved and I communicate about some things. He orders cookies. I order cookies. Not until these cookies start showing up at the house do we ever mention to each other how many cookies or what type have been ordered. Thankfully, these cookies freeze beautifully.

4. Lenten sacrifices. I have officially given up swearing for Lent. Each swear costs me twenty five cents. I think I am at a cool 2 bucks in the tin. Not bad, not perfect either. I have some people and creatures that make me want to swear. Mostly my dog, Ninja. She is the darnedest thing. She insists upon herself. Always underfoot. She makes me nuts. I have also given up raising my voice with the kids. My daughter misunderstood this as I was going to stop nagging or correcting bad behavior...wrong, just doing it in a conversational tone. The tone with the kids is going well. I like not raising my voice in frustration. Yes, I still get frustrated. Yes, they still get corrected. Now I just do not have to apologize for raising my voice. It is a time saver!

Have a great weekend. Spend some time with the people you love and do not forget to tell them how much you love them and value them in your life. Live. Laugh. Love.

Parenting Advice

Don't think for one second that this is the post where she spouts all of her collective child rearing knowledge and advice. I have only been at this parent thing for 12.5 years. I can not claim any sort of victory in the parenting arena. That being said, you might think that I am open to hearing parenting advice. This would be erroneous. I am a live and learn kind of person. Things are going okay, so far so good. God also blessed me very easy children. Aside from some stubbornness and feistiness, that was likely inherited from the paternal genetic contribution, they are both really enjoyable people. If I were not their mother I would still think they were very cool people.

However, today, despite my general apathy toward parenting lectures, books, and advice in most any form, I am attending two parenting type events. The first is a talk by a man who has a lot of kids. I believe the number is 13 kids, a mixture of biological, adopted and foster children. Yes, 13. That is a crew. This man also writes. I am more interested in the writing perspective, but I also have a sick fascination with large families. God did not give me the uterus to produce, or the patience to handle more than two kids. It will be fascinating to hear what this man has to say about parenting a brood of such size. It will likely leave me feeling glad I just have two kids and two pets to manage everyday.

The second parenting type event is a presentation called Drugs 101. My beloved is accompanying me to this event. I currently have no drug concerns with my kids, but I also feel that information on such a topic is good to have. Knowledge is power in this situation. The flyer for Drugs 101 had a series of questions about the current drugs of choice for young people. I did not understand about seven of the questions at all, so I signed us up to attend. I will certainly let you know what I learn, or if anything silly happened. Hopefully, I will pay attention. In large groups I tend to start people watching, or pick up on the speakers vocal tics. If the speaker is an "ummer" I often tally mark all the "umms". Yes, this speech defect is distracting to me. It also makes it impossible to comprehend the content. Thankfully, my beloved will be there. He is a good listener, and has no public speaking training so he does not notice vocal tics; like, umm, okay, and yeah right. It is good to have such an unflappable wingman. Seriously, I do need to become more aware of the current drug culture. I have only heard excellent things about this program and it comes with a large amount of handouts. The handouts will be my saving grace because I am person that learns better through reading. Prepared to be dazzled by my drug information in future posts.

Parenting advice is still not my thing, but today will be informative. I know that I will learn something. If nothing else it will give me more topics to cover here.