Perspective

So... we're closing in on another Easter. that's cool. you know.. if you're in to Jesus and all that. As y'all know, I'm on the Catholic plan... so Easter is celebrated up in here. so again.. yay for that!


It's been an interesting few months around here.... though clearly not THAT interesting, cause really? if I had something good to blog about I probably would have. and this blog has been collecting more dust than my china closet lately.

so no. not interesting, really. at least not what the general public may consider interesting. but I think I've said that already. (wow... talk about rusty journaling... I suck at blogging anymore! I can't even TYPE coherently. y'all are probably thinking.. shit.. she finally posts and THIS is what we get??? )


so what exactly DID I have to say?

lent. lent was good to me.

please note that I did not say lent itself WAS GOOD. no... I'm very cranky right now as I REALLY REALLY fucking miss coffee. STUPID! WHY did I give up coffee? does giving up coffee make Jesus love me more? DOUBT IT! and tea? meh. I've been drinking it for the caffeine... but I'm SO OVER IT. I neeeeeeeed a cup of coffee. really. with creamer. mmmmm. I can't wait til Easter.


but that bit aside.. Lent was good TO me. I fasted. I abstained. I chose differently. I took some time and actually walked the walk a little.

I wouldn't say I feel HOLIER. no.. I'm still a mess of a woman who gets cranky when things don't go right. DEFINITELY not more holy.

but I DO feel more at peace. (now the REALIST in me can argue that I feel more at peace because my jeans fit me again from the few pounds I've lost... ) but something.... I dunno. just feels more CONNECTED.

connected with WHAT... I can't quite say. perhaps myself. perhaps the world? can't tell. but I feel more appreciative. hopeful. inspired.

like.. I'm noticing all the GOOD that happens in the world again. I'm seeing people and relationships as inter-woven tapestries instead of compartmentalized blips you turn on when you need them. And I'm TOTALLY buying into the idea that my little good deeds and acts of kindness CAN inspire others to do likewise.

not that I didn't do things in the past. it's just that now I feel like my purpose for doing a good deed is to spread joy to someone else, and not for someone else to recognize me.

though I suppose that's a contradiction in a way. now more than ever I'm making sure that what I do is something that can and will be recognized by my children. well-- as something they, too, would like to do or say. but GENERALLY speaking... know what I mean?

Anyways. I feel... much like spring and Easter itself, I have, through this past Lenten Season, shed some darkness, and am rising up into a new season of me. I'm still mournful from Rachel's passing.... but rather than it be the reminder of sadness, guilt, and loss that I've allowed it to be since September, I'm starting to allow Rachel's LIFE be a reminder of how our time here together really truly IS a gift. A chance to do right by each other, to learn, and to teach.

and to just be fucking HAPPY already. know what I mean?

enough of the bitching and moaning of what isn't and what we don't have. Time to start taking stock of what it is we DO have... and more so.. start putting it to good use.


speaking of have and good use. I have 2 bottles of fat free vanilla creamer. Sunday's almost here, gang.

See you on the other side!

ok... first of all.. thank you SOOOO much to the awesome awesome AWESOME words of support y'all have given me these past 2 days.


I had my event eve check-in this evening.. I met 5 of my team members (hoping to meet the other six tomorrow... praying that they show up????) They're great, and this weekend is going to be amazing. I just know it. all my hesitations about this one or that one being team leader are gone, and I'm ready to just go and do what I signed up to do.


I stopped at Target on the way home for 2 last must-have items.. I bought a shower curtain to lay under the sleeping bag.. cause did I mention it's raining here? also got a foam pad so it's not just grass and gravel on my ass, too.

I packed the bag and popped my camera battery into the charger... attempting to set up my text messaging so I can update my twitter this weekend... but who knows if that'll work. if not.. I'll be blogging about the walk next week.


again... thank you all so much. the donations, the encouragement... each of you has been SO GENEROUS time and time again. really.. I was just reading through some back comments, and some of the notes y'all left when you made your donations.... I am like FLOATING right now with the love. I promise you, I plan on giving that back out to the walkers this whole weekend.

thank you all. you'll be with me this whole weekend!


And to my financial donors? I seriously can not express in enough words how much I appreciate you giving money to this cause. I know we all have our reasons for donating... but I truly feel blessed to be associated to your giving.

+ Mom and Dad + Uncle Roy and Aunt Karin + Hector + Avani , Nimish, and Rushabh + Jody, Brad, Dov and Zoe + Fergie, Jamie, and Jackson + Jessica, Mike, Blake and Bella + Jennifer + Maria, Joel, Maddie, Adian, and Clara + Troy, Rhena and Danny + Mom and Dad J. + Stacey, Matt, Emma, and Sophia + Alanna, Todd, and AJ + Marianna + Cathy, Mike, Quinn and Liam + Erin and Chris + Suser, Dan, Liam and Seamus + Kate, Kurt, Max and Georgia + Erin, Marc, and Mason + Nancy, Mike, and Annie + Kelli, Mathew, Kendal and Ava + Hännikins and AHP +

I can't wait to tell all the walkers and crew members I meet about each and every one of you, and how you're not just supporting me.. but them as well. Like I said... you'll be with me all weekend!


now.... it's time for me to get some shut-eye. I need to leave the house by 3:30am... and it seems to be getting closer as I type!


xxoo

see you on the other side!

Going forward by going back

AS you know.... last week, my cousin Rachel lost her battle with breast cancer. Originally I got the call from my mom, and I had THOUGHT I was going to get to drive up to jersey and see her in the hospital to cheer her on one last time.

Sadly, this was not meant to be, and Rachel passed away that very afternoon.



This caused me to be in a world of hurt on SO many levels. I'm not sure if there are scientifically proven levels of grief... but I'm sure I took a turn on all of them. Sadness, Shock, Anger, Denial, Avoidance, Depression, Emptiness, and more recently... Acceptance.

I have TRULY been on such a roller coaster of emotions this past week that it is only now, in my own home, that I am beginning to feel at peace.


I did SO much thinking this past week, and on my drive back to NC today. In the wee small hours of the morning, as we started our trek home today... I happened to catch a (distant) view of the solitary beam of light from the World Trade Center. It was still lit from yesterday, and it was quite the kick in the ass. I had been SO CONSUMED with my own loss, I had really forgotten that other people are hurting, too.


Yet.. despite whatever was happening in each of our worlds.... I found myself with a stream of e-mails, phone calls, text messages, cards, and comments offering condolences and support for MY loss. Tonight... a manager from Dressler's (a restaurant Troy and I like to go to) showed up at my door with six different entrees and some of their signature desserts. SO I WOULDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT COOKING.

This was a gift from my girlfriends... NONE of whom actually live in this town or even have MET Rachel. And did I mention that this restaurant does NOT deliver? Nonetheless... despite remembering their own friends and family lost on 9/11, facing hurricanes, being on cruises, having sick children, and just regular life struggles in general (to name a few)... these women were taking care of me.


Looking back on this past week, I can truly say I am humbled. I am blessed for the friends, family and acquaintances I have in this life, for in THEIR recognition of my loss.... I have gained a true appreciation for the kindness and light that surrounds me regularly. Yes... Rachel is gone. Her departure has and will continue to bring heartbreak, suffering and loss to those who loved her, and for those who will never get the chance to know her.

But to all of you? thank you. Your words, your prayers, YOUR ACTIONS have not gone unnoticed, nor will they be forgotten.

again... thank you.

The Guilt Trip

Y'all know I'm Catholic. and we Catholics LOVE us some guilt trips. at least I am. I am GOOOOOOOOD about guilt.


I get this mostly from my mom. She has an innate way of taking personal responsibility for just about everything. Having shitty weather? meh... it's cause my mom said something the other day. Constipated from eating too much junk food? must be my mom's fault cause she didn't cook you a meal. even though she doesn't know you.


ok... so that's exaggerating just a LITTLE... but you get the point.

Anyways.. as the whole apples-tree-and-not-falling-far saying goes.... I also tend to walk around with an extraordinary amount of guilt at any given time. did I do enough? did I say too much???

Take this morning for instance... not 10 minutes ago, I left a comment on one of my favorite blogs.... Erin Cooks. Erin is awesome.. always hosting contests (btw.. go.. enter!! free books!!) and if you recall.. she's the one who hooked me up with the free ice cream. LOVE HER for that.

She makes amazing stuff, and takes even better pictures of it. I told her once how I had to stop reading her for a while cause I caught myself wanting to lick my laptop. but seriously... love her blog.

so the comment I left remarked how it would have been nice to see some chocolate in the icing of her cookie creations. and while there was absolutely NO ill intent of what I wrote... I TOTALLY have been second guessing what I wrote. so much that I immediately stumbled her page. and started this post about guilt. BAH!

Anyways... me and guilt.. like I said and you can see... we go back. (btw... go and take a peek at her cookies.. they DO look fantastic, and you can tell her as much. and that I'm a jackass for talking about the chocolate. I totally deserve it.)


Now with the Avon Walk, I've been feeling a whole NEW set of guilt. first off... holy CRAP.... we totally blew by the $500 dollar goal in like what.. 2 days??? and donations are still coming in. The generosity and love that has been so quickly given is BEYOND humbling. I have been regularly crying with appreciation.

But yet.. now that the goal has been officially 'met'... I'm at a quandary. TRUE.. I don't HAVE to go out and seek more donations. but yet... something's.... missing. i totally do not feel like I have spoken about it enough. Because while the amount of money that has been raised so far is awe-inspiring... I feel like it should be MORE. but not MORE as in dollar amount. MORE as in number of people.


Am I really doing enough to share my vision? Is it greedy that I think people donating just ONE DOLLAR can inspire hope? and that I want MORE people to donate just that one dollar? Is it crazy to think that I CAN get 100 people just to make even the most minimal donation so my cousin and many many other women and families like her can see the VOLUME of people that believe in LIFE for her?

Part of me feels SO incredibly guilty for wanting that... that VOLUME.... because honestly??? the VOLUME that HAS been given thus far is, as I said.. humbling. I certainly wouldn't want to shadow anything that has been done so far.

but last year.. when I arrived at the walk before sunrise, and I looked around in the stadium.. I couldn't help but feel PART OF SOMETHING as I saw the hundreds of men and women that were there for the very same thing I was... that hope.

I dunno. that's where I'm at. I'm kind of percolating on an event of some sorts... either at church or local pub or grocery store where I can set up camp until I can get x-amount number of donations. Maybe charge everyone a dollar to sign a big assed banner to be hung at the walk or something.

something.


but so far??? I can not express my thanks enough. 11 donations so far representing 31 people who believe.

11 donations, and we're OVER $800. incredible. INCREDIBLE, I say!!!!


so again.. thank you to all who HAVE donated, or WILL donate. every dollar DOES make a difference. And if you have any ideas of how I can shake some of this guilt for not doing more??? I would love to hear them.


I may start off by apologizing to Erin.

Long live the Mix-Tape

I firmly believe that anyone born AFTER 1965 and BEFORE 1990 knows the power of the mix-tape.


sure, it's a mark of my age, but in MY world.. when you like someone... you make them a tape.

of course, now in our digital age of mp3 players... kids today probably don't even KNOW what a cassette tape is. Or have no respect for John Cusak and the movie High Fidelity. or have NO idea how funny "what's a happenin hot stuff?" is when spoken by a certain Long (Duck) Dong. but again.. I date myself.

So.. yes. nowadays.. not so much on the mix-tape. However... it appears that the SPAWN of the mix-tape... the highly transferrable, won't melt-in-the-summer or get jammed in your player PLAYLIST is the key to my dedicating happiness.

yes... the playlist is now the fancy of all portable players. and I like it. in fact, just the other day, Hannikins suggested a kick-ass work-out mix. THEN.. like the magical woman she is.. a day or two AFTER she shared, she ftp'ed me just about the whole list. mama say, mama sah, mama's a rock star!


so now... on the eve of a nice long weekend.. I turn to YOU, my readers. I'm sure you've all been asked this question in varying forms before, so you should at least have an idea of what your answer would be....


WHAT is your all-time favorite song? I mean.. if you KNEW you were never going to hear music again, and you could only listen to ONE MORE SONG... what song would you choose?

please share! for anyone reading that does NOT share their favorite song... please know right now, I will find out where you live, and reprogram your home so every noise-making machine will play songs from Glitter, and ONLY Glitter.

(That's RIGHT, Erin.. I know you like MiMi... but even YOU know Glitter sucked. )


Anyways.. DO leave a comment. tell me your tune! I'll share the list (and downloadable files when possible) on monday!

Also, as an added bonus, *I* will dedicate a song to each of my commenters. It shall be a song that makes ME think of YOU, no matter WHAT your ass says is your favorite.

so DO play along.. it'll be fun, yes?

have a great weekend, everyone. let freedom ring, and all that shit.

Open Letter

To the woman with the two daughters at Harris Teeter today?

THANK YOU. Thank you for teaching your daughters to be KIND to little girls who like to dress themselves because they truly believe they are ballerina princesses. Even when that self-proclaimed famous ballerina princess outfit means a turquoise dress, orange socks, pink glittery shoes and a pointy fair-maiden hat.

Your daughters smiling at Rhena and telling her she's "a beautiful princess indeed" was heartwarming and kind. I hope to teach my children to be as encouraging to others as they get older.

_______________


and to the OTHER woman with two daughters at Harris Teeter today?

SHAME ON YOU. watching your girls huddle, whisper,and POINT at a child younger than them sends a message of endorsement. Perhaps if YOU smiled more and taught your children some manners you wouldn't have to tell your girls to stop touching the food on display in the salad bar, and you would have to maybe threaten to 'straighten them out' one or two less times a day.


Now perhaps I'm just as bad judging you anonymously online... so for that I'll stop now... but the pointing?? NOT NICE.

oh and by the way? I hope that the turkey you insisted to the deli clerk be MUCH THINNER gives you GAS, bitch! BIG, stinky GAS!!!!

Summer of Love

so it's either a GOOD thing or a BAD thing that I haven't blogged in so long.





BAD, cause I've been doing a lot of stuff that I should have blogged about.... but GOOD, I suppose, cause I've been doing a lot of stuff and haven't had time/energy to blog.





either way.





here at the fever, we have been experiencing the summer of LOVE. love love love, I tell you! We spent a good three weeks up in jersey, in which time we were able to see a large number of friends and family.





Each trip/visit was good in its own right. how VALIDATING to be surrounded by people you love and love you right back. When I was at susie's, the best term I can think of to describe how I felt was 'unplugged'. no tensions, no stress... (ok, maybe a TEENY bit when my kids were screaming and when we allowed our 3 year olds to sleep in the same room "cause you know what, momma? I've never sweeped in We-um's room before and we are just good friends and I am going to sweep in his wittle bed and we are going to have so much fun cause I've never sweeped over his house before..." (and so on and so on) and that first night took a TEENY bit longer than normal to get the kids actually settled and sleeping.) but seriously. no stress. there were comfortable silences, there was no urge for hoopla. ok, maybe an ass-grab here and there... but it was just a coming home of sorts. ODD, as I had actually never been IN that particular house of theirs, nor had I actually met their youngest in person... but it was that kind of home that only your heart can speak to.


I ALSO got to see a dear friend of mine from college. It had been a few years since I last saw Little Girl; collectively three children had been born since our last meeting. Marilyn is one of those people that I lost touch with during my year of puking and subsequent darkness while trying to survive Danny's first year on the outside. Actually, we had lost touch during the move to NC process; me puking and being sleep deprived just compounded the fear of rejection and lack of energy I felt in trying to reconnect.

BUT, like any good love story; we got back together, and even had the reunion hug in a parking lot to boot. Seeing HER and her children was another wave of emotion for my soul. To know and see that a friendship can withstand that much time and space without a drop of love lost... well... how can I not feel blessed?


Back in jersey, more visiting was had. we saw my brother, his wife and the kids. unfortunately not as much as I would have liked to, but the kids were still in school, which meant their incessant schedule of practices and games and meetings and homeworks were still at full blast. (side note holy CRAP I'm so glad we only have 2 kids cause the school years and coordinating schedules scare and TIRE the living bejeezus out of me)


I saw my cousin Rachel. This was one of the most conflicting visits I had while in jersey, and I'm almost glad it was one of the last ones. Rachel, as you know if you've been around here for a while, has cancer. Rachel is 3 months older than me, and by every right of our upbringing, is the closest blood-relation I have that could very well be my sister. Rachel looked like SHIT. which, in saying that.. I say with no ill will... just calling it like it is. cancer SUCKS, people. and it does NOT look good on my cousin.


She is bruised and has a yellow tone to her skin. Her hair is gone again due to this current regime of chemicals. She is weak, and walks worse than our 90+ yr old grandmother. yet.. amidst all her frailty, I saw the strongest person I could ever meet. I could never possibly encapsulate another person's will to live with words, but the mere fact I have personally witnessed it makes me re-think how I view things. Seeing Rachel reminds me how precious life and relationships are, and it really reminds me to choose my battles, especially when the relationship is worth fighting FOR.


being gone for so long made me realize how much I missed home, too. and this time I mean home as in Stepford. sure, I make fun of stepford all the time.. but this is our HOME now. and Troy was still home. now... I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I really didn't miss troy that much at first. I mean.. being in jersey was NICE. no laundry, no cooking, no cleaning... no errands. I really got a break! but by the time week 3 rolled around, I knew it was time to get back. we are truly a team of FOUR, and when anyone is out of the picture too long.. well... things just don't level out.

But the time gone was good. my parents did their usual bending over backwards to accommodate us in every fashion. speaking of bending over; I'm sure they were happy to give the knees and backs a rest after we left. not saying the kids gave them a run for their money... but they did. oh, and my coming home drunk that one night probably didn't help much either. HAH! (and we won't talk about danny's meltdown at the picnic or him throwing up all over my mom or me dropping the shower door on my foot.... that shit's just par for the course, right?)


eventually I'll sign up for the upgraded version of flickr, and I'll get all of our pictures up. that's on my list of things to do this week.

but we're back. (speaking of back; I'll go back over this post later today during naps and update with appropriate links and pictures.)

In the name of Love

being here at my folks', I've actually had extra time to relax. I mean, sure.. I'm still being 'mommy' and such, and bedtimes have taken a bit longer to accomplish... but when the kids nap, I have time to veg. No guilt looming overhead that I should be cleaning instead of trolling the internet, no pressing need to do laundry, prep dinner, call insurance companies or plan appointments.


During this time of relaxing, I've taken naps. I've watched lots and lots of food network. and I've done some thinking.


Mostly I've been thinking about my family. (you know.. when in rome and all) I was thinking about the things I and they do, just in the name of love.

For example, just driving up here. Now... anyone in their right mind would not typically VOLUNTEER to drive 10+ hours with 2 kids in a car just for the sake of a drive. BUT... our family and friends are here, and out of love, we come. Out of love, my folks drove slower and took more stops than normal so they could be near me on such a drive in case I needed them.

Out of love, we might take our kids completely off their schedule to attend an important function where their attendance would be appreciated. Out of love, we show our children compassion when we would rather strangle them. We bite our tongues, we hold back, we plunge forward, or say the words no one else will.

We open ourselves up, and show a side of vulnerability. We wait; either for that phone call or for the sound of the front door. or for a ring. or for them to finally be ready, whatever capacity may be.


We do things we don't always like, despite our better judgment sometimes. and there's a fine line between doing something in the name of love and just plain allowing ourselves to be walked on... so fine that we're often WAY beyond the line before we even realize it.

but yet... love presses on. not always recognized, not always reciprocated, but valid and with good intentions, we do things in the name of love. From the big to the little (like drinking DECAF on a morning after very little sleep), when the root of our actions are entwined with love, why is it that we all BITCH so much?

Whether it's love for a person, a country, a job, a cause or a team... it's so easy to START OFF nobly, but often it ends with gripes, moans, snide remarks or boasting. Is that a symptom of our society? or is it just me who does it?


Recently a young man here in my parents' town passed away after battling cancer. He was only 29. It got me to thinking. If I knew NOW that Rhena and or Danny (or anyone I love for that matter) would die at the age of 29 or at any known point in the immediate future... would I think I'm doing enough? and of what I AM doing... well... perhaps I could make it a little less about me, and more reflective of its love-filled intentions.


What do YOU do out of love? how can you make it better?

Please take a minute and share; not only does it help to remember why and for who you do things, but you may inspire someone else in the process. Let's start this week off on a good note.



.

A Letter To My Body

There's a little exercise going on over at BlogHer. and despite screwing up the link back to this post to show that I participated.. well.. whatever. I did it. see below.

___________________________________






Dear Body -

Although you and I have never had an 'official' conversation before, it goes without saying that we have shared some exchanges over the years. It's no secret that you've overheard the things I've said about you, felt the icy glares and sighs of disgust when our eyes have met in the mirror, and I know that in my heart of hearts you've sensed the jealousy in my blood when I've looked at other women. Despite TOO many of the 35 years we've been acquainted being filled with animosity... I want to see if I can break the cycle. I really feel compelled to make amends for past misgivings and hopefully lay a groundwork that will allow for a better future together.

I've had a chip on your shoulder for a long long time. As a child, I didn't think your skin was colorful enough. I WILL give you credit for being so resilient at such a young age. not once did you blister when I dipped your fingers into melted waxes of different colors. Not once did you cop an attitude and stay the shade I applied to you with various not-as-magic-as-I-hoped-they-would-be-markers. Whatever I burned, broke, or tore... you healed, fused, and or re-grew. you kept. coming. back. seriously, your nickname should be Terminator.

As a teenager, I loathed you, but didn't say as much because angst was fashionable. Over the years I have chided to all that would hear that your misgivings allowed me to be the one with the magnetic personality. But let's not lie anymore, shall we? I wanted to be the pretty one. I wanted to be the tall one. The exotic looking one. SURE... you got me compliments that ranged from 'cute' to "really cute"... but let's face it. CUTE SUCKS. I already had an older brother who was smarter and did everything perfect.. screw being CUTE! OH, how I just for once wanted to be the 'hot' one. so yeah.. this whole short and cute thing? didn't really help your case.

You stepped up your game in my early twenties when you started releasing blood from places that shouldn't bleed. And this whole if-I-eat-seafood-I'm gonna-shit-and-puke-til-I-end-up-in-a-hospital-(again!!) thing you pulled??? touche, my comrade!! You really had me there for a few years when I was having to take 5 pills a day just to eat like a normal person. Looking back, though.. I think you could only agree with me when I say that your power play only made me dislike you that much more.

But ours is a relationship much more complex than that, isn't it? We had our moments, and even I can admit that not all of them were bad. For starters, I know we agree on music. THANK YOU for all those nights. I may have never been hot, but the music got us close to being sexy. So thanks.

And you know.... props to you for the whole child-bearing thing. I don't know WHY, I don't know HOW.. but for all the shit I put in, on, and through you... you gave ME the two greatest gifts I could have ever imagined. you humble me. Now, I'm not saying that you made it EASY by any way shape or form to RECEIVE such gifts... but wow. you really hooked me up. talk about a guilt trip.

So as I write you this letter today, I can honestly say that I don't hate you any more. I recognize all that you have done for me over the years, and I would officially like to apologize for the abuse. I really do appreciate you, Body. I am SO MUCH because of you, and there is no doubt that I value you. I DO want you around for a lot longer, and hope you'll stay with me.

But... (oh c'mon... you knew there'd be a but!!) I hope you'll understand when I tell you that I still don't like you. I WANT to like you.. I really do. I'm TRYING to like you. But you know. you see it in my eyes. and I wish I could just use something cliche like "it's not you, it's me" and be done with it and live happily ever after, but it IS you and you ARE me... so yeah. not so happily ever after.

But I am trying. and I will continue to try to find ways to like you, however small they may be. So please; stay resilient. ignore my defeatist comments and my eye rolls and pinches and grabs and suck ins and lift-ups. Stay with me, ok? cause as long as there's music, there's hope for us.

with appreciation,
me


PS... you know.. you could REALLY up your standings by letting me eat some seafood. just saying!!!

Difficult

So I noticed something interesting the other day.


I was writing out a birthday card for someone, and I noticed... hey... this writing thing is HARD.


I think I'm forgetting how to WRITE.


well.. not really, but seriously... I rarely write things out any more. I have never been (nor do I see myself being in the near future) a note-taker or list-maker. Paying bills? pretty much all online. Communication? e-mails, IMs, text messages and phone. I even do all my birthday invites for the kids on the computer. and christmas cards are all pre-printed and envelopes done on the computer, too.


this is definitely a symptom of the times.. but as I was addressing the card, I was thinking about how *I* like to receive mail. like REAL mail. an honest-to-goodness-I-took-the-time-to-show-you-I'm-thinking-of-you piece of mail. so as I put the stamp on the card to my friend, I hoped that she, too, would have a small joy on her birthday, knowing that effort was made to not only pick out a card for her, but to pause my day long enough to scribe a good wish.

and this is not to say that an e-mail, a genuine to-you-and-only-you email.. not a FWD!!! or FILL IN THE BLANKS!!! Again.. I'm not taking away from the time and effort it takes to compose a direct message through e-mail. I for sure find those more enjoyable than the mass forward or general addressing text messages.

oh, and to be clear.. I am not absolved of the forwards or general announcements. I do them, too.


but the hand-written note. I'm beginning to think it's a lost art. Ask anyone who gave my kids a Christmas gift and is still waiting for a thank you note. they'll tell you just how lost the art is on me. *sigh* but I digress.

So last night I started composing an e-mail to a dear friend of mine, and I stopped. I think I'm going to take pen to paper tonight and write out my hellos instead.

This little act might not change the world, and it certainly won't change MY daily habits. I'm still going to blog, still going to send e-mails, do my banking online, and the occasional text message will come from my old-school flip-phone. But it sure won't hurt if I spread a little sunshine before spring officially hits.

well, except my hand. given my penchant for gab and my lack of practice physically writing things out, I'm sure my hand will cramp up after half a page.... but that's another story.


_____________

today's inspiration? the soundtrack for Wicked. I finally got rhena to listen to a song from something OTHER than Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. (never mind that the song is from another broadway musical... I still consider it progress) Anyways... rhena finally changing up her music selection inspired me to think of things that I can still do (send notes to friends) but change it up a little. (write them by hand instead of e-mail) Hooray for little changes! Spring is on the way!

Some Great Reward

That was the title of an old Depeche Mode album. (please no comments on the fact that I use the term ALBUM. DO we call them albums anymore, or is it just cds? or tracks? I'm so not urbanly hip and modernly cool.)


anyways.. I was thinking about rewards today. if we're LUCKY, we find rewards in our every day lives... not just when we reach the point of exhaustion or perfection. (yes, exhaustion happens before perfection in my house. usually exhaustion BEGETS perfection, cause I get so damn tired of trying to make things better so I just end up decreeing something 'perfect'.)


In parenthood, however.. I notice that I tend to fall under the category of OVERLY rewarding. Danny made a poopy?? "YEAH! HIGH FIVE!! good job, Moo-Moo!!!!"

no.. he didn't go in the potty or anything. just pushed out some waste from his bowels into his diaper. and most likely got it all up in and around his walnut, too. But here I am, cheering like he completed a marathon.


Rhena has essentially been potty trained for 8-10 months now. yet.. when she poops or pees by herself.. there I am... throwing out my 'good jobs' and booty shaking in my own mini-party.

I must really like poop?


I've read articles that promote this kind of parenting.. talking about fostering a positive environment for the kids. making every day activities fun and challenging, making the children proud of their accomplishments, big and small.


of COURSE there's the plethora of articles that discuss the DANGERS!!! of cheering on your child. Creates a competitive child that is only eager to please you and authoritative figures. makes the child believe they must be rewarded for everything they do.


I can for sure see both sides of this coin... but yet I still favor the rewards side. maybe it's because *I* find rewards in all things I do.. big and small.. (yes.. I even get happy after *I* have a big poop... I've had the scale go down 8/10ths of a pound after a poop once. talk about rewarding when you're trying to lose weight!!)

but seriously. I do find rewards in every day situations. most are, naturally, some type of intrinsic reward. (not saying I wouldn't mind a bonus or a big ribbon every now and then)


Danny is clearly too young to understand the difference from intrinsic and tangible rewards. Rhena, I think, is now getting to an age that she understands that making someone happy or doing something nice can make her feel just as good as eating M&Ms. We still use a lot of props, though. stickers, glow sticks, a special dinner or dessert.. dollar store crap.. you get the idea.

I'd LIKE to think that this is helping to set the stage for her to have a thorough understanding of actions/choices and consequences... but I still wonder. are our parenting methods, when combined with our world's incessant need for gratification and collection of material objects (not to mention our group-think society where everyone must be a winner, even if it means they don't keep score in sports) well... is this setting rhena up to be selfish? or a doormat? or worse.. unhappy and incomplete in her quest for perfection.


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today's inspiration? still up for grabs! inspiration strikes at random times, so I'm keeping my eyes and ears open. feel free to provide me with something!

Divine Comedy

aaah. you know, with Rhena in my life, there never seems to be a shortage of things to talk about. or at the very least for me to share what SHE talks about.


so, I was helping miss boogey-pants get ready for school this morning. When I finished up with her hair, she stood up, spun around, and announced "Oh, I look DIVINE."



yeah. I'd definitely say she has a HIGH sense of self-love.


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today's inspiration? Margaret Brent, the first woman in the North American colonies to demand the right to vote. She and pioneers like her fought for women like me to have a voice. EVEN if it means bringing my children with me to the voting booth. hassle as it may be... there's never a wrong time to teach others (OR YOURSELF) that a voice matters.

It's begun

oh dear.



I knew this day was coming.



after breakfast today, rhena came around the corner wearing her jacket and shoes.

She informed me that she was going outside to wait for the bus. She reportedly was going on a trip. when asked to where, she replied that she was off to her "new home".


She must have sensed my semi-state of concern, because she assured me to not worry, cause she would be back in the morning when I woke up.

as luck would have it, I promised her that today I was going to make an appointment for her to see the dentist. I was able to trump her spontaneous bus trip by convincing her she needed to be here so I could call the dentist. apparently micro-managing my administrative duties is more appealing than waiting on the corner in her pyjamas.


sigh. I guess I just didn't think I'd be dealing with the runaway child this early in the game. or this early in the day, either. momma needs coffee to deal with this kind of shit, people.


oh well. happy monday, and here's hoping that everyone in your life stays put this week.


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today's inspiration? my SCALE, believe it or not! I was only down point-8 pounds for my weigh-in this morning, but I'm only point THREE pounds away from my 10% goal-slash-competition with troy. I for sure feel energized enough to get through this last hump. I can do it!!!

Tagged

first of all, fear not. I won't be tagging anyone else. for one... most of you have already done this. Out of respect for the de-silencing of Hännikins, though.... I will play along.

5 Things You Never Knew About Me (And Probably Never Cared To)


1- I think adults eating organic food is silly. especially more so when I know that they have done/still do drugs or drink alcohol. kinda defeats the purpose, no? again. silliness.


2- I can burp like a man. pretty hot, huh? it's true, though. I've had this skill since I was a teenager. ask how much my mom LOVED that.


3- I ADORE* the taste of chocolate with salty things. pretzels, potato chips, french fries. yes. bacon. yes. salt it up, cover it in chocolate, and you have my attention. (* TOTALLY for you, Sus.)

4- I have DEEP fears of overly-naturistic places. the woods give me the heeby-jeebies, and I can not even begin to express the fear that overcomes me on country roads with no street lights, or worse... roads surrounded by cornfields. (note I speak of my experience of being on ROADS that go through these places. should I feel the need to shit my pants or have a slight heart-attack, then I will actually get out of my car and go IN to said cornfield, woods, or other 'natural' environment. til then, however.... I'll be in my car. driving the hell out of nature and back to a highway.

5 - ditto on the ocean. I fear the ocean. and lakes. don't like them, either. The very thought of fish (or other swimming creatures or water plants.. ACK!!!) touching my legs and/or me not being able to see the bottom of whatever body of water I am swimming in brings about a tightness in my chest that HAS to be similar to being tied up with rope and having a gun pointed at my face.

and added bonus!! (ok, cause I think 4 & 5 are very similar to each other, so I'm throwing in one more)

6 - I cry every time I hear "Amazing Grace" sung remotely well. seriously.. as long as it's SOMEWHAT in tune... I cry. without fail. I'm getting much better about keeping from erupting into a full-on cry... but my face gets all twisted, my eyes water and nose gets runny. again.. pretty hot, huh? I'm such a catch.


there. now be gone with you.


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today's inspiration? my Ultra Dance 2008 cd. reminds me that I DON'T have to like 80s music now that I'm a mom. and listening to the beats gets me excited about training for the walk this year. shake it!


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Inspiration Nation

lately I've been finding inspiration from pretty much everywhere I turn.

which is good and bad, you see.


GOOD... cause seriously... I like knowing that my life is full of situations and people that I want to emulate. I have most recently been inspired to read new books, cook new foods, travel to new places, listen to different music, redecorate the house (mind you I'm saying inspired to do so.. not necessarily at the point of DOING so for all of these things).


this is BAD, however, cause for one.. how in hell am I going to find the time to DO all of these wonderful things to enrich my life? and two.. it makes me question WHY I'm so eager to try the changes.

maybe it's a throwback to my engineering days. six sigma. Kaizen. lean manufacturing. process improvement. cause I certainly don't think I have many things that are BROKEN.... just looking for a better way of doing things, maybe?


and March is Women's History Month. during a time that we should be recognizing and celebrating the achievements of women past and present... I feel like I should be working on some achievements of my own. don't know what those should exactly BE yet... but the good news is that there's no shortage of examples around me.


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today's inspiration? Skirt! Magazine. it reminds me that no matter how we spend our days or 'earn our keep', we're all women who should be celebrated.

For the Love of the Job

You ever notice how there are just some jobs that not everybody can do? I imagine that can be said about pretty much any job, due to skill sets or other educational requirements. but SOME JOBS... well, let's face it... they ain't for everybody.


Today, I'm thinking particularly about teachers, and more specifically, about my mom.


NOW, I know I've mentioned my mom on my blog before, and most of the time it's in some side comment where I'm defending some outlandishly stupid behavior I've done that my mom will most likely flip out about. I've probably depicted her as a VERY old-school, over-protective and firmly resolved tough bizzle. If I HAVE, it's because, well... she IS. She IS Irish and Hungarian, after all, AND is from Jersey. TRUST me when I tell you she is not one to mess with. Throw in a heaping dose of some stereo-typical Catholic attributes, and you'll have my mom as portrayed in a made-for-tv movie.


BUT... like any good and TRUE-to-life character... my mom is much more than that. The woman has some layers, people. Deep, complex, colorful layers that even I, after 33 years, am only beginning to understand the half of.

Some of the layers to my enigmom run in her professional sphere... she is a teacher.

my mom has been teaching for God knows how many years. seriously. I don't even know. Before I was born, I can tell you that. I remember her working in a nursery school, and I remember one other stint in a school in a town called woodbridge, (I Think??? all I really remember is the windows and the sinks in her class) she was a teacher for some junior-high/middle school kids for a while.... but for the past 21 years, she has been teaching in the same Catholic school.

let me repeat that. TWENTY ONE YEARS. in the SAME PLACE. Mostly first grade, with a few grade changes here and there, but for the majority of those 21 years, she has been a first grade teacher.

Now, I dunno about you, but I remember MY first grade teacher. (Mrs Counsman) I also remember a LOT about that particular school year. I mean, I remember some things here and there about kindergarten, but my strongest and first memories from school are from my first grade year. So even some what.... 28? years later, I remember shit that went down that year.

So that gets me thinking about my mom.... 21+ years of creating foundational memories for 15-30 kids at a time... that's a pretty big audience. no pressure, huh?

but anyways... all of that is really an aside. What I've seen over the past 21 years is a woman who not only goes to work every day, but brings home her work each night, too. whether it's the papers she grades, the lesson plans, letters to parents or the report cards... there was always SOME paperwork that had to be done.

and the children. I'd be lying if I said that every year wasn't a new batch of characters in our house. Each year, we'd hear about the child who can't stop crying, or wetting their pants, or experienced death in their family, or anything and everything. Every year, and every child.. my mother would teach, nurture and LOVE these children as if they were her own. She would emote her frustrations to us when she knew certain children could do better but were too lazy, she would anguish over the children that were experiencing trouble at home. She would beam with pride when 'her kids' did something good. Again... it was if each year we had a bunch of foster children in our family... they just didn't physically live in our house.

Now maybe some people say she did more than she needed to, and put more of herself into her job than she was required.... but now, as a parent.... I can definitely say I wouldn't want Rhena to be taught by anyone OTHER than the likes of my mother. Especially at the age of 6 and 7... I want to know that Rhena is in the care of someone that really loves what they're doing... and not just checking off tasks.


and it's not just that my mom went above and beyond her 'job requirements' for the 21+ years. She did it in circumstances that anyone with a professional job would just shudder at.

For example... as a working professional... over the course of 21 years, would you find it acceptable that your salary only increased approximately 12 thousand dollars? How many years would YOU stay at a job without even GETTING a raise?

How many days a week can you stand on your feet all day and not even get to take a lunch?

Do your employees shit their pants or throw up on you? Because apparently that's a common occurrence every year in the first grade.

DO you get told to go to professional workshops on your days off and not even get reimbursed for the time or money spent at said workshops?

Have you ever been told that you can't attend a funeral service because someone else from your company is going?

Do you have to pay for your own supplies?

Have you ever had to wait two months to see your grandchild because taking off during that time of year just wouldn't be good for your employees?

Perhaps you've been berated by the parents of one of your employees because you did not provide said employee with a snack that said parents forgot to give to employee that morning.


I could go on. The shit my mother has dealt with over the years has been horrible at times to down right ridiculous. Yet... for so many years... she stayed. Why? because of the children. because she's a teacher, and no matter what has been thrown at her, she believes what she does is important, and carries on.

This past week, my mother was finally offered a contract stating the conditions in which the school would have her work next year. Please ignore the fact that there are only 2 weeks left in this school year, thus making it virtually impossible for her to find employment elsewhere should she find the terms presented as unacceptable.

What she was 'offered' was to teach 27 children (FIVE of which would be special needs children), CHANGE to third grade, with NO monetary increase on her salary. Nothing says appreciation like completely changing your job role, taking on more responsibility, and doing it for the same shit money you're getting now.

can I get a big FUUUUUUUCK YOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!

I admire the hell out of my mother. I can NOT even begin to post about how much I look up to her and how she's set the bar in so many ways for how I believe HUMANS should be. But when it comes to teaching... she is second to none in my eyes. Sure, she's tough as nails, but she's GOOD. She constantly does whatever she can to get through to her kids... reaches out to parents so that the learning doesn't stop in the classroom, and too many times puts those kids' needs before those of her own.

She has dealt with shitty administration and suck-ass work conditions and real jack-fuck parents over the years. and unfortunately, moreso than ever... the shitty administration and suck-ass work conditions and jack-fuck parents have gotten worse.


I see it so much, even in some of the random people I meet that are parents. They expect the teacher to coddle and teach and nurture their child, but get downright pissy at the teacher when the child in unable to meet basic expectations in school. For example... we have some friends that got angry at their child's teacher when a book report was assigned in the 5th grade. ANGRY. because said child has been getting book reports since the third grade, and 'these teachers don't even tell the kids how to DO a book report.. they just expect the kids to know how." (let's ignore that parents just admitted that said child has been getting book reports assigned for the previous 2 years... that kind of ignorance even hurts ME to think about)


ANYWAYS... my point is this. As a teacher, you may be in charge of 20+ children at a time, yet will be expected to treat each child as if they are your only responsibility. Not everyone can do that, or for that matter, do it well.

I may be biased, but I know my mother does it, and does it really damn well. But alas... she has decided not to do it anymore.

After this recent 'contract offering'... she said no. No to the terms they presented, and no to the shit that comes along with it. SO in two weeks, my mom will have her last day of school.

and you know what? I know inside she's heartbroken.


True, she's proud of herself for finally saying 'no more' to the shit end of the stick she's been dealing with for so long... but she's a TEACHER... and I know she knows there's more in her to give.


And so the bittersweet story goes, right? The ole girl still has more fight in her. Maybe just maybe she can hang on for one more year.

But selfishly, I say NO MORE, and HOO-FUCKING-RAY that she's not going back. Why? BECAUSE the ole girl still has more fight left in her, and I want it for me. for my daughter, for my husband and brother and sister-in-law and nieces and nephew and my father and for any future child I may have.

I'll be DAMNED if some unappreciative institution breaks the spirit of my mother or tarnishes her career in any way. She has given SO MUCH of her time, her love, her energy, of HERSELF... and I know she's done it because she loves to do it, but it's high time she does it for people that will tell her how much they appreciate what she does and love her for it.

For the love of the job, my mother has done tremendous things in her years. I can not even BEGIN to say how proud I am of her, and how she has forever changed my perception of teachers in this world.

Selfishly, I am SO HAPPY she's not going back to school next year.... cause those rat-sab motherfuckers just don't appreciate her the way I feel they should. I DO feel bad for her in that it has come to a point where she drew her line and said no more.

But I take comfort in the knowledge that my mother is not done teaching yet. True.. she may not be in a classroom every day next year, but people like my mother will NEVER stop teaching. and God willing... I pray I will never stop learning from her.


I love you, mom... and I'm SO PROUD OF YOU.