I've been thinking deep thoughts lately, which means ya'll are in trouble! ;)
Seriously, though, I've been back and forth all week about whether to write this blog post. It's about alcohol. I have friends and family members that run the gamut on this issue, but I thought I'd put out there where I stand on it because I have found myself rethinking it this week.
I'm not a big drinker. I joke about it sometimes, especially if it's a rough day, but I will drown my sorrows in a cup of decaf with a decadent creamer faster than I will in a Budweiser. I see no point in it. Not that I don't drink. If I'm out with friends, I don't mind having a beer or a margarita or two. If I'm doing karaoke, I usually have a beer. But I don't need it to sing. I have and will get up and sing on nothing stronger than iced tea (and that would be Lipton, not Long Island). I don't keep the stuff in the house, and I have never stopped for any on the way home.
Shots have been done, but I can count on one hand the number I've of those I've had in the last year. The truth is, I don't really like to be drunk. I don't mind getting a little fuzzy around the edges, loosening up and having a good time, but I don't like to feel out of control. I know where my limit is and when I hit it, I feel no shame in switching to water. I'm terrified of waking up in the morning and having someone tell me what I did last night. Where's the fun in that?
I grew up believing that alcohol is evil. Now I believe that alcohol, in and of itself, is not sin. It is just a thing. Like money. Money, by itself, is just a isn't a sin, either. The love of money is a sin. It's when it becomes so important to you that is controls your life. I think the real sin in alcohol is letting it control you. It is in drinking to excess, to the point where you don't care where you are or what you are doing. We all know what drunks look like. They aren't even in control of themselves enough to walk or talk straight. It's even worse if you become dependent on it enough that it takes over your life, kills your relationships and saps your pocketbook. I'm too afraid of it to allow that to happen.
I don't want to recount here what happened to make me rethink my position. I'm careful in choosing which stories to tell in my blog because I don't want to inadvertantly hurt anybody. But I will say I found myself in a situation I didn't want to be in, didn't go willingly, and made me feel like I was 19 again...but not in a good way. And I wondered if I found myself there because I was willing to have one beer.
What do people think of me if they see me drinking? Do they see the fact that I'm having a beer, or do they form a bunch of other perceptions about me? Do they think I do other things, too?
Now, the older I get, the less I give a rat's behind what most people think about me. But at some point, I do have to think about the influence I have on those who are paying attention. I do try to do the right things the best way I know how, because that's who I want to be. And I am a Christian, which requires me to think about the image I'm projecting.
So I wonder. Does doing the right thing mean I should stop having a beer when I'm out with friends, because it might make me seem like I'm okay with drinking to excess...or worse? Should I only choose to have a beer in certain company, who share my philosophy? Does having a beer at all reflect poorly on me as a Christian? Should I just stick to tea from now on regardless?
I haven't really resolved this yet. I have no forseeable occasion for imbibing, but in true me fashion, I would like to figure out what the "right" thing to do before I get there. Until then, I'm probably sticking to tea.
What are your thoughts?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Talk about random!
I do calendars and listings. That comprises at least half of my work week, if not more. You wouldn't think a newspaper would have that many. They're hidden, but they're everywhere! I do at least six calendars (that's a quick, off the top of my head count. I have a list at the office), and a few listings. And I don't even have do all the calendars! I say that to say, it's hard to keep the mind from wandering, but apparently I need to work a little harder at it. I made the statement the other day that at any given moment, there are 50 things running through my head. So today, because I'm goofy like that, I decided to write down a few of them. Welcome to the mind of Lisa:
"Put Christopher's baseball schedule in my calendar. Wait....do it after work."
"Oh, phoo. (Yes, I say "phoo.") He's got a game on March 18th. So when are we going to go to Florida?"
"Hey, I could write my thoughts down and put them in my blog!"
"I really should go to the Morris Museum of Art on Sundays. Too bad I never think about it on Sundays."
"I do like big band music. It's kind of romantic. Reminds me of being at Nanny's house. I think I'll listen to that today instead of jazz."
"I gotta remember to download a sample of The Secret Life of Bees. I think I wanted to read it."
"How did it get to be almost 2 already? I've still got so much to do!"
"It's really only 1:40. Am I the only person in the world who operates two hours ahead? In an hour, I'm going to be thinking about dinner and what my evening is going to look like. I think I'm a day-half-over kind of person. Would that make me an optimist or a pessimist?"
"Restaurants keep some funky hours. Maybe it makes sense in the restaurant world, but it sure makes it confusing for people like me who need to list their hours."
"Ooh. A present! Or rather, a package. More books? Makeup bags. Cool!"
3:50 p.m.: "I should have been putting times to these thoughts. Whoops."
4:15 p.m.: Catie: "Hi, Mom. I'm home." Me: "Great! Now don't forget to clean your room. And go ahead and run a load of darks. I'm out of socks. Well, you can get them started before Mema gets there. Oh, and supper's in the crock pot. Barbecue pork chops. Heat up some corn and I think there's some green beans in the cabinet. Heat those up and go ahead and eat when ya'll get back from Christopher's game. I'll be late. Don't wait for me."
4:30 p.m.: "What else do I have to finish today? Call 4,000 restaurants, pull Dear Amy and Bridge from the wire, do another calendar. Tomorrow. Today I'll finish this calendar because I have to do another one just like it tomorrow. And then Dear Amy. I like Dear Amy."
5:06 p.m.: "When can we go to Florida?"
6:30 p.m.: DONE! For today. Hope I can finish the rest tomorrow. I'll try really, really hard to come in early..er...than 10:30. I promise!
"Put Christopher's baseball schedule in my calendar. Wait....do it after work."
"Oh, phoo. (Yes, I say "phoo.") He's got a game on March 18th. So when are we going to go to Florida?"
"Hey, I could write my thoughts down and put them in my blog!"
"I really should go to the Morris Museum of Art on Sundays. Too bad I never think about it on Sundays."
"I do like big band music. It's kind of romantic. Reminds me of being at Nanny's house. I think I'll listen to that today instead of jazz."
"I gotta remember to download a sample of The Secret Life of Bees. I think I wanted to read it."
"How did it get to be almost 2 already? I've still got so much to do!"
"It's really only 1:40. Am I the only person in the world who operates two hours ahead? In an hour, I'm going to be thinking about dinner and what my evening is going to look like. I think I'm a day-half-over kind of person. Would that make me an optimist or a pessimist?"
"Restaurants keep some funky hours. Maybe it makes sense in the restaurant world, but it sure makes it confusing for people like me who need to list their hours."
"Ooh. A present! Or rather, a package. More books? Makeup bags. Cool!"
3:50 p.m.: "I should have been putting times to these thoughts. Whoops."
4:15 p.m.: Catie: "Hi, Mom. I'm home." Me: "Great! Now don't forget to clean your room. And go ahead and run a load of darks. I'm out of socks. Well, you can get them started before Mema gets there. Oh, and supper's in the crock pot. Barbecue pork chops. Heat up some corn and I think there's some green beans in the cabinet. Heat those up and go ahead and eat when ya'll get back from Christopher's game. I'll be late. Don't wait for me."
4:30 p.m.: "What else do I have to finish today? Call 4,000 restaurants, pull Dear Amy and Bridge from the wire, do another calendar. Tomorrow. Today I'll finish this calendar because I have to do another one just like it tomorrow. And then Dear Amy. I like Dear Amy."
5:06 p.m.: "When can we go to Florida?"
6:30 p.m.: DONE! For today. Hope I can finish the rest tomorrow. I'll try really, really hard to come in early..er...than 10:30. I promise!
The V-word
I'm in the final days before vacation, so my brain is pretty much Cheez Whiz. Time to write has been non-existent this week and I can't promise anything that comes out now will be either entertaining or insightful. But I've missed writing, so here you go. ;)
A couple of things that are running through my mind right now:
1) We have got to get to bed earlier, because mornings are brutal. I always say this. Nobody listens. Why is it so hard to go to bed at night? Part of it is the kids drag their feet forever about getting into the showers, like somehow they're going to melt down the drain. What is this aversion to soap and water? I love feeling clean, but they will put off showering for days if I let them! (You can breathe. I promise I won't let that happen.) The other part is that Mama got a new toy that involves her first love...reading. Which means everything in the real world gets blocked out while Mama's engrossed in a make-believe one. Which means kids take hour-long showers but only stand under the water for the last 5 minutes. (Okay...maybe I'm not completely engrossed. Darn it! What are they doing in there??)
2) Did I mention vacation is in two days? Ah...palm trees, ukuleles and coconut oil. NOT! I'm dreaming of a land in which the laundry will be caught up (yes! Thank you! Because I am out of black socks again. Didn't I just have Christopher put up the clothes two days ago? How does this happen???) Of Kindles, coffee, back porches and morning sun. Of lunches with friends and seeing family. Of finally shopping for some much needed new clothes. Of sitting around the house all day in my pajamas without showering if that's what I want to do. (I didn't say you had to visit!) Of doing none of those things if that's the fancy that strikes me.
*Yawn* and now that I've made myself sufficiently late, I'd best get on with the business of preparing to take a vacation. (Which by itself is enough to necessitate a vacation.)
A couple of things that are running through my mind right now:
1) We have got to get to bed earlier, because mornings are brutal. I always say this. Nobody listens. Why is it so hard to go to bed at night? Part of it is the kids drag their feet forever about getting into the showers, like somehow they're going to melt down the drain. What is this aversion to soap and water? I love feeling clean, but they will put off showering for days if I let them! (You can breathe. I promise I won't let that happen.) The other part is that Mama got a new toy that involves her first love...reading. Which means everything in the real world gets blocked out while Mama's engrossed in a make-believe one. Which means kids take hour-long showers but only stand under the water for the last 5 minutes. (Okay...maybe I'm not completely engrossed. Darn it! What are they doing in there??)
2) Did I mention vacation is in two days? Ah...palm trees, ukuleles and coconut oil. NOT! I'm dreaming of a land in which the laundry will be caught up (yes! Thank you! Because I am out of black socks again. Didn't I just have Christopher put up the clothes two days ago? How does this happen???) Of Kindles, coffee, back porches and morning sun. Of lunches with friends and seeing family. Of finally shopping for some much needed new clothes. Of sitting around the house all day in my pajamas without showering if that's what I want to do. (I didn't say you had to visit!) Of doing none of those things if that's the fancy that strikes me.
*Yawn* and now that I've made myself sufficiently late, I'd best get on with the business of preparing to take a vacation. (Which by itself is enough to necessitate a vacation.)
Monday, February 21, 2011
Plate spinning
You never realize how many little pieces make up a life until it's shattered. I tend to think of it like a glass plate that falls on concrete. It shatters into pieces and splinters.
That's what divorce is like. It shatters the plate of your life into tons of pieces. Each piece has to be picked up, carefully examined, and glued back into place. But it will never really be the same.
Even though my marriage was never good and I was miserable and dreamed of a life on my own, divorce still forced me to redefine every aspect of myself and my life. In a way, each aspect is like its own glass plate, spinning on top of its own wooden rod. You've seen them, like at the circus. Taking care of the kids, their health, their school, their social lives, their character. That's a plate. Then there's the finances. That's a plate. Keeping the house clean, running efficiently and in good repair. Doing a good job at work. Keeping up with the car. The jewelry business. Relationships (i.e. being a good daughter, sister, friend). Romantic relationships. Taking care of myself. All are plates spinning in the air. And it's up to me to make sure none of them fall and break.
Sometimes that feels easy. Things are flowing along smoothly. The kids are minding, the laundry's caught up, I've spoken to a few friends and my mom. I've got life by the tail. All of the plates are up and spinning.
Sometimes, it's not so smooth, and I run back and forth between the rods, spinning the plates, making sure none of them fall. Paying the bills leaves me barely enough to buy enough gas or milk or bread to get through the week, which causes me to lose sleep. And the Finances and Taking Care of Myself plates wobble. One of the kids fails a subject at school, or is being incredibly defiant, and the Taking Care of the Kids plate wobbles. I realize that I told a girlfriend I'd call her a week ago and haven't done it yet, or I realize it's been too long since I've visited my grandmother, and the Relationships plate wobbles. And at work, maybe my mind is on the things that I have to remember to pick up on my way home, something slips or gets overlooked and the work plate wobbles. A bounced check, perhaps, and the finances plate almost hits the ground.
A couple of years ago, I thought of this single life as a juggling act. It felt like every week or two I was dropping one ball or another. But the act of keeping things going feels much more like the plate guy, running back and forth between them, making sure they all stay balanced and spinning. What I've learned is that basically, you just have to choose which plates you're willing to let fall. But even at that, you can only let so many drop. Too many just can't.
This is why I believe God arranged it for two people to raise children. It's really too much for one person. I could be so much more effective at work, for instance, if I had a spouse to shoulder some of the burden at home. Matter of fact, I know that is true. There is no way I could have done as well in school as I did if it weren't for my ex-husband. He may not have been the greatest husband, but he supported my going to college. I could not have gone to school during the day, worked at night at the newspaper and rose to the senior position at the school newspaper if he wasn't at home cooking dinner, making sure the kids did their homework, and getting them off to school on time in the morning.
The thing is, while I don't really feel I should get any special consideration because I am a single parent, I do wish people to understood that, well...I can't be perfect. That at any given time, I have about 50 things on my mind. I'd like to help that, but I can't. (I wish you could see the number of lists I have going to try to manage all those thoughts. I have singlehandedly destroyed a small forest. But I'm still thinking, dang, I'm almost out of Downey.) I feel I'm never able to do anything 100 percent well, even though I really want to. My motto has become "Do what you can, and forgive yourself for the rest." Because my house will have dust bunnies. Because my bank account will run short. Because the laundry will pile up. Because I will go too long without calling a friend. Because I will overlook something at work. Because I will forget to pick up the kids' prescriptions. Because I am only one person, who is trying to do her best. And that will just have to be good enough.
That's what divorce is like. It shatters the plate of your life into tons of pieces. Each piece has to be picked up, carefully examined, and glued back into place. But it will never really be the same.
Even though my marriage was never good and I was miserable and dreamed of a life on my own, divorce still forced me to redefine every aspect of myself and my life. In a way, each aspect is like its own glass plate, spinning on top of its own wooden rod. You've seen them, like at the circus. Taking care of the kids, their health, their school, their social lives, their character. That's a plate. Then there's the finances. That's a plate. Keeping the house clean, running efficiently and in good repair. Doing a good job at work. Keeping up with the car. The jewelry business. Relationships (i.e. being a good daughter, sister, friend). Romantic relationships. Taking care of myself. All are plates spinning in the air. And it's up to me to make sure none of them fall and break.
Sometimes that feels easy. Things are flowing along smoothly. The kids are minding, the laundry's caught up, I've spoken to a few friends and my mom. I've got life by the tail. All of the plates are up and spinning.
Sometimes, it's not so smooth, and I run back and forth between the rods, spinning the plates, making sure none of them fall. Paying the bills leaves me barely enough to buy enough gas or milk or bread to get through the week, which causes me to lose sleep. And the Finances and Taking Care of Myself plates wobble. One of the kids fails a subject at school, or is being incredibly defiant, and the Taking Care of the Kids plate wobbles. I realize that I told a girlfriend I'd call her a week ago and haven't done it yet, or I realize it's been too long since I've visited my grandmother, and the Relationships plate wobbles. And at work, maybe my mind is on the things that I have to remember to pick up on my way home, something slips or gets overlooked and the work plate wobbles. A bounced check, perhaps, and the finances plate almost hits the ground.
A couple of years ago, I thought of this single life as a juggling act. It felt like every week or two I was dropping one ball or another. But the act of keeping things going feels much more like the plate guy, running back and forth between them, making sure they all stay balanced and spinning. What I've learned is that basically, you just have to choose which plates you're willing to let fall. But even at that, you can only let so many drop. Too many just can't.
This is why I believe God arranged it for two people to raise children. It's really too much for one person. I could be so much more effective at work, for instance, if I had a spouse to shoulder some of the burden at home. Matter of fact, I know that is true. There is no way I could have done as well in school as I did if it weren't for my ex-husband. He may not have been the greatest husband, but he supported my going to college. I could not have gone to school during the day, worked at night at the newspaper and rose to the senior position at the school newspaper if he wasn't at home cooking dinner, making sure the kids did their homework, and getting them off to school on time in the morning.
The thing is, while I don't really feel I should get any special consideration because I am a single parent, I do wish people to understood that, well...I can't be perfect. That at any given time, I have about 50 things on my mind. I'd like to help that, but I can't. (I wish you could see the number of lists I have going to try to manage all those thoughts. I have singlehandedly destroyed a small forest. But I'm still thinking, dang, I'm almost out of Downey.) I feel I'm never able to do anything 100 percent well, even though I really want to. My motto has become "Do what you can, and forgive yourself for the rest." Because my house will have dust bunnies. Because my bank account will run short. Because the laundry will pile up. Because I will go too long without calling a friend. Because I will overlook something at work. Because I will forget to pick up the kids' prescriptions. Because I am only one person, who is trying to do her best. And that will just have to be good enough.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
So little to do...I wish!
I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off all weekend, and just got home from dropping Christopher off at church. I finally get a quiet couple of hours. I want to use them to read, but instead I'm going to blog for a minute, balance the checkbook, pay some bills, figure out and cook dinner, and straighten up the living room. Hopefully after that I'll get a minute to read. And I just remembered I'm out of decaf and I have to get the kids' medicines refilled. Drat!
I had a long post prepared and then realized there are some things I'm really not ready to share on such a public forum. Maybe when I know you better! ;)
So now I'm going to have to make this quick, because I've now been sitting here for over an hour writing a post that was supposed to take 20 minutes! I've still got a million and a half things to do and a finite number of quiet minutes left. So here are a few brief notes from the weekend:
Christopher made the baseball team! YAY! Figuring out how to buy cups wasn't too hard. After all, I'm a mom and there is very little anymore that intimidates me! The baseball socks, though, had me texting my brother in a frenzy. How many do we need? He wears them to practice, too? Note to self: teach kids how to do laundry. Oh, wait...I did. Scratch that: figure out how to more effectively make that happen.
Spent QT with Catie at the mall Friday night. I was told yet again that I don't know what's fashionable, and why won't I let her buy a silly hat with ears? I mean, it's cool!
I held two jewelry shows in two days. They were both for friends, so that equates to quality girl time. :) For Catie too, apparently. My gorgeous assistant kept disappearing to play with her friends!
And because that wasn't enough girl time, I had dinner at another girlfriend's house last night. That ended up being a little wilder than anticipated. But we did get a bridal shower menu planned (I think. :) )
Dropped Christopher off at church, where he tells me to"Enjoy doing nothing," like that would be the least enjoyable thing in the world. He has no idea! I will gladly enjoy it...if that moment ever happens!!
And so on that note, I must listen to my rumbling tummy and figure out what we're going to eat. And straighten the house, call in the prescriptions, balance the checkbook and whatever else I had said I needed to do. I'm sure it'll come to me -- with friends --, just as soon as I sit down with my book!
I had a long post prepared and then realized there are some things I'm really not ready to share on such a public forum. Maybe when I know you better! ;)
So now I'm going to have to make this quick, because I've now been sitting here for over an hour writing a post that was supposed to take 20 minutes! I've still got a million and a half things to do and a finite number of quiet minutes left. So here are a few brief notes from the weekend:
Christopher made the baseball team! YAY! Figuring out how to buy cups wasn't too hard. After all, I'm a mom and there is very little anymore that intimidates me! The baseball socks, though, had me texting my brother in a frenzy. How many do we need? He wears them to practice, too? Note to self: teach kids how to do laundry. Oh, wait...I did. Scratch that: figure out how to more effectively make that happen.
Spent QT with Catie at the mall Friday night. I was told yet again that I don't know what's fashionable, and why won't I let her buy a silly hat with ears? I mean, it's cool!
I held two jewelry shows in two days. They were both for friends, so that equates to quality girl time. :) For Catie too, apparently. My gorgeous assistant kept disappearing to play with her friends!
And because that wasn't enough girl time, I had dinner at another girlfriend's house last night. That ended up being a little wilder than anticipated. But we did get a bridal shower menu planned (I think. :) )
Dropped Christopher off at church, where he tells me to"Enjoy doing nothing," like that would be the least enjoyable thing in the world. He has no idea! I will gladly enjoy it...if that moment ever happens!!
And so on that note, I must listen to my rumbling tummy and figure out what we're going to eat. And straighten the house, call in the prescriptions, balance the checkbook and whatever else I had said I needed to do. I'm sure it'll come to me -- with friends --, just as soon as I sit down with my book!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Land o' plenty
Wanna know a secret about me?
I love food. I don't mean I love to eat it. I love to collect it. I love to open my cabinets and have a bag of rice fall out. I love having choices. I think for me it represents security. There's comfort in knowing that if I didn't set foot inside of a grocery store for two weeks, we can still eat well. Not that that would ever happen.
I just got back from picking up Angel Food. Single parents, listen up! This is an awesome program if you need a little help. (Check it out at http://www.angelfoodministries.org/.) I'll tell you up front that if you're trying to eat healthy, this probably isn't going to be for you. Some of the stuff is processed to the hilt. But if you're trying to fill bellies inexpensively, you can't beat it. I paid $82 and ordered two of the large boxes. I've now got frozen soups, frozen beefaroni, boneless skinless chicken breasts, more chicken with the bone in, chicken nuggets, pork chops, ground beef, sausage, hamburger steaks, salisbury steaks, muffins, milk, eggs, frozen veggies and oatmeal, to name some of it. Times 2. It's enough to feed my little family for the most of month.
How's this for a perk? Right now I have probably 8 lbs of Chick-fil-A waffle fries (well, no, it doesn't say Chick-fil-A, but do you know anybody else who sells round waffle fries? In 5-lb brown, industrial bags?). And we have gotten the Burger King crown-shaped chicken nuggets in the past. A 10-lb box that I bought seperately, I believe. I thought I was just buying regular old chicken nuggets.
We never finished all of last month's boxes, so my kitchen freezer overfloweth, and my upright's getting that way fast. I love it! Another time saver? I don't have to plan a menu and then shop accordingly. Instead, I take what comes in the boxes, plan meals off of that, and fill in the gaps. (Which I can usually do for about a $100 a month). Most of the time, that means "I want chili, meatloaf and my own spaghetti and meatballs, and you didn't give me the ingredients for that!" Considering the program boasts that their signature box (which is a little smaller than the one I buy) feeds a family of four for a week, there's not a whole lot of gap-filling to be done. You can even order online, so I do it at the same time I'm paying my bills every month. Then I pick it up from my host church one Saturday morning a month. It saves me a lot of time as well as money.
Now, after putting away all of those groceries, I'm thinking one of my upcoming vacation days will need to be spent rearranging my kitchen cabinets. Maybe then the rice won't fall out!
I love food. I don't mean I love to eat it. I love to collect it. I love to open my cabinets and have a bag of rice fall out. I love having choices. I think for me it represents security. There's comfort in knowing that if I didn't set foot inside of a grocery store for two weeks, we can still eat well. Not that that would ever happen.
I just got back from picking up Angel Food. Single parents, listen up! This is an awesome program if you need a little help. (Check it out at http://www.angelfoodministries.org/.) I'll tell you up front that if you're trying to eat healthy, this probably isn't going to be for you. Some of the stuff is processed to the hilt. But if you're trying to fill bellies inexpensively, you can't beat it. I paid $82 and ordered two of the large boxes. I've now got frozen soups, frozen beefaroni, boneless skinless chicken breasts, more chicken with the bone in, chicken nuggets, pork chops, ground beef, sausage, hamburger steaks, salisbury steaks, muffins, milk, eggs, frozen veggies and oatmeal, to name some of it. Times 2. It's enough to feed my little family for the most of month.
How's this for a perk? Right now I have probably 8 lbs of Chick-fil-A waffle fries (well, no, it doesn't say Chick-fil-A, but do you know anybody else who sells round waffle fries? In 5-lb brown, industrial bags?). And we have gotten the Burger King crown-shaped chicken nuggets in the past. A 10-lb box that I bought seperately, I believe. I thought I was just buying regular old chicken nuggets.
We never finished all of last month's boxes, so my kitchen freezer overfloweth, and my upright's getting that way fast. I love it! Another time saver? I don't have to plan a menu and then shop accordingly. Instead, I take what comes in the boxes, plan meals off of that, and fill in the gaps. (Which I can usually do for about a $100 a month). Most of the time, that means "I want chili, meatloaf and my own spaghetti and meatballs, and you didn't give me the ingredients for that!" Considering the program boasts that their signature box (which is a little smaller than the one I buy) feeds a family of four for a week, there's not a whole lot of gap-filling to be done. You can even order online, so I do it at the same time I'm paying my bills every month. Then I pick it up from my host church one Saturday morning a month. It saves me a lot of time as well as money.
Now, after putting away all of those groceries, I'm thinking one of my upcoming vacation days will need to be spent rearranging my kitchen cabinets. Maybe then the rice won't fall out!
Friday, February 18, 2011
I didn't exactly mean to take a few days off from blogging, but my house was feeling neglected, and I was feeling guilty about it. Not that I've done much. It really doesn't look any better. (Shhh...I shouldn't make statements like that. It will hear me and cause the laundry to multiply twice as fast as it already does.)
So I finally got my hair cut. I feel like a new woman. And I splurged on the good shampoo and conditioner. It was on sale! A liter shampoo and a liter conditioner along with the reconstructer for $40. The shampoo alone is $35. Not only am I trying to justify spending that much on hair products, but I'm actually considering buying a second one and hoping it'll last a year! Maybe if I use only a tiny amounts, it will last forever!
I also splurged on new pillows. I had three, one that I swear I have been sleeping on since I was 16. I could be wrong, but I honestly don't remember the last time I bought pillows. Have I ever, or were they all handed down? These I had to test out...for 10 minutes...before I had to force myself to get back up. Now I can't wait to go to bed. It's one of those silly little things that you never think about until you're laying on them, and wondering why you can't get comfortable. The stupidest part is...they really don't cost that much! *sigh* I'm going to sleep good tonight.
So I finally got my hair cut. I feel like a new woman. And I splurged on the good shampoo and conditioner. It was on sale! A liter shampoo and a liter conditioner along with the reconstructer for $40. The shampoo alone is $35. Not only am I trying to justify spending that much on hair products, but I'm actually considering buying a second one and hoping it'll last a year! Maybe if I use only a tiny amounts, it will last forever!
I also splurged on new pillows. I had three, one that I swear I have been sleeping on since I was 16. I could be wrong, but I honestly don't remember the last time I bought pillows. Have I ever, or were they all handed down? These I had to test out...for 10 minutes...before I had to force myself to get back up. Now I can't wait to go to bed. It's one of those silly little things that you never think about until you're laying on them, and wondering why you can't get comfortable. The stupidest part is...they really don't cost that much! *sigh* I'm going to sleep good tonight.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Randomness
It's late, I've been running all day, so I think tonight I'm just going to throw out a few quick hits -- little things that are on my mind. They are in no particular order.
1) Catie sang with the choir in her school's black history program tonight. Kudos to Mr. Cheeks and what he is doing with the music program. There has been tremendous improvement since the first recital a couple of months ago. Some of those kids have a fantastic talent. If only I'd had a video camera!
2) It's hard not to have fun when music's involved.
3) It is a surreal feeling to sit in the bleachers and hear your child, along with the chorus, sing "We are the World," just like you did in the 8th grade some 20-odd years ago. It would have been weirder if it was the same school.
4) Catie is also in chef's club. They made refreshments for the parents and then served them. I really need to have her cooking more. She enjoys it and it would really help me. (Bonus: We got dessert before supper!)
5) Thank God for Crock-pots and pot roasts, made more delicious by having to wait two hours later than usual to eat it.
6) One day I really should spend the evening cleaning the house, rather than blogging. Nah...maybe not. There will eventually be a Saturday for that and if not...vacation's in two weeks and I'll have a whole week of them!
7) I can't wait to go see my brother's new house in Florida. I'll get to within a month, I think. :) (I am always up for a road trip!)
8) I really want to buy my own new house one day. I've never owned one. My ex and I tried buying a couple through a rent-to-own sort of situation, but we could never seem to stay in one place long enough to make it work. I want to paint my own walls, pick my own carpet, plant my own flowers (um...maybe), paint the cabinets if the original ones are ugly. And I have no idea how to get there from here. So I'm off to read a book on the subject. I'll keep you posted. Oh, and when I finally do reach this goal, there is going to be one heck of a party at my place! :)
1) Catie sang with the choir in her school's black history program tonight. Kudos to Mr. Cheeks and what he is doing with the music program. There has been tremendous improvement since the first recital a couple of months ago. Some of those kids have a fantastic talent. If only I'd had a video camera!
2) It's hard not to have fun when music's involved.
3) It is a surreal feeling to sit in the bleachers and hear your child, along with the chorus, sing "We are the World," just like you did in the 8th grade some 20-odd years ago. It would have been weirder if it was the same school.
4) Catie is also in chef's club. They made refreshments for the parents and then served them. I really need to have her cooking more. She enjoys it and it would really help me. (Bonus: We got dessert before supper!)
5) Thank God for Crock-pots and pot roasts, made more delicious by having to wait two hours later than usual to eat it.
6) One day I really should spend the evening cleaning the house, rather than blogging. Nah...maybe not. There will eventually be a Saturday for that and if not...vacation's in two weeks and I'll have a whole week of them!
7) I can't wait to go see my brother's new house in Florida. I'll get to within a month, I think. :) (I am always up for a road trip!)
8) I really want to buy my own new house one day. I've never owned one. My ex and I tried buying a couple through a rent-to-own sort of situation, but we could never seem to stay in one place long enough to make it work. I want to paint my own walls, pick my own carpet, plant my own flowers (um...maybe), paint the cabinets if the original ones are ugly. And I have no idea how to get there from here. So I'm off to read a book on the subject. I'll keep you posted. Oh, and when I finally do reach this goal, there is going to be one heck of a party at my place! :)
A quick thought on food
I know why women gain weight as they get older. In your younger years, you only have yourself to feed. Add a spouse and/or a child (i.e. another mouth to feed) and all you ever think about is food! What am I feeding them for breakfast? What are we having for dinner? What do I have to make for dinner tomorrow night, or do I need to go to the store? It never ends. And thinking about food makes you hungry!
On a related note, oatmeal doesn't taste so good when you're eating it with onion-scented hands. But oh, that pot roast is gonna be good!
On a related note, oatmeal doesn't taste so good when you're eating it with onion-scented hands. But oh, that pot roast is gonna be good!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Days of hearts and roses
There is one good thing about being a single mom on Valentine's Day: I may not have a man in my life, but I will always have Valentines! :)
In honor of the day, I thought I'd tackle the subject of dating. Here is what I know about dating the second time around:
Did you get that? Nada.
It's about as much as I knew the first time around. I do know this: Everybody keeps saying that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince. But who wants to kiss a frog? They're slimy, it's unsatisfying and you might get warts! Besides, I'm losing faith that a real prince exists. Maybe they're all just frogs and one found a golden thimble to wear on his head.
Of course, I could be a bit jaded. I've spent the whole weekend talking with several people about failed relationships and rehashing my own last two, and it really doesn't inspire much faith. It's not that I don't believe there are good men out there: I know quite a few. But they're either spoken for, not interested in me or I'm not interested in them (on that level).
Perhaps I'm at a point where it's just safer this way. It could be I'm not done being single. For the most part, I like being free to be myself and do as I please without worrying about whether or not I'll be in trouble for it later. (And that includes everything from buying legal car tags to having dinner with friends.)
But if I'm honest, there are times I really miss having a guy around. Here are a few:
* When I can't reach (okay... perhaps not valid with a 6'2 son around)
* When the car wobbles or makes a funny noise, and I have to figure out what to do about it
* "Mom, I need an athletic cup!"
* When I've just kicked my shoes off and remember we're out of milk, and there's no one to call to pick up a gallon on his way home
* When I've been up half the night with (insert reason here...and no, not partying!) and someone still has to make sure the kids are out the door on time in the morning
* When 10 things are going wrong all at once and my patience runs out after the first two, but there is no one to run interference
* When, at the end of a long day (or a short one, for that matter), all I really want is a pair of strong arms around me, a deep voice whispering that it's all going to be okay, and one, good passionate kiss...and that is all.
Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll! :)
In honor of the day, I thought I'd tackle the subject of dating. Here is what I know about dating the second time around:
Did you get that? Nada.
It's about as much as I knew the first time around. I do know this: Everybody keeps saying that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince. But who wants to kiss a frog? They're slimy, it's unsatisfying and you might get warts! Besides, I'm losing faith that a real prince exists. Maybe they're all just frogs and one found a golden thimble to wear on his head.
Of course, I could be a bit jaded. I've spent the whole weekend talking with several people about failed relationships and rehashing my own last two, and it really doesn't inspire much faith. It's not that I don't believe there are good men out there: I know quite a few. But they're either spoken for, not interested in me or I'm not interested in them (on that level).
Perhaps I'm at a point where it's just safer this way. It could be I'm not done being single. For the most part, I like being free to be myself and do as I please without worrying about whether or not I'll be in trouble for it later. (And that includes everything from buying legal car tags to having dinner with friends.)
But if I'm honest, there are times I really miss having a guy around. Here are a few:
* When I can't reach (okay... perhaps not valid with a 6'2 son around)
* When the car wobbles or makes a funny noise, and I have to figure out what to do about it
* "Mom, I need an athletic cup!"
* When I've just kicked my shoes off and remember we're out of milk, and there's no one to call to pick up a gallon on his way home
* When I've been up half the night with (insert reason here...and no, not partying!) and someone still has to make sure the kids are out the door on time in the morning
* When 10 things are going wrong all at once and my patience runs out after the first two, but there is no one to run interference
* When, at the end of a long day (or a short one, for that matter), all I really want is a pair of strong arms around me, a deep voice whispering that it's all going to be okay, and one, good passionate kiss...and that is all.
Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll! :)
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Money is the root of all
This morning I spent a little time playing around with my blog settings. Geez. I just want to write! But I also want to hear what you have to say. I was kind of discourged to learn that the site required you to sign into in order to comment. But now I've fixed it (I hope), and that makes me happy. So talk to me!
And now back to our regularly scheduled blogging, already in progress...
Reading back over my posts the other day, I noticed a common theme. Money. Or rather, the lack thereof. I wasn't happy about that. I don't consider myself a materialistic person. Not at all. I want good things in life like everybody else, but they don't need to be the finer things. I don't even mind if the good things are worn at the seams a little, as long as it doesn't show. I don't think I'm engaged in a chasing a bigger bank account. (What would I do with a Jaguar, anyway? Oh...sell it and buy a house!) But what I saw was that virtually everything I've said, in some way spoke about money...and the fact that I don't have much of it. I worried -- in true me fashion -- that it makes me seem obsessed, or that I'm poor-mouthing myself.
The truth of it is, I really don't mind my situation so much. I won't go into a whole lot of detail here -- maybe I can share some stuff later -- but we have more of the good things in life and are more stable as a single parent household than we ever did as a two-parent household. I wouldn't change the way things are. Every need or want that I'm able to meet on my own that is beyond the usual feels fantastic. There's a terrific sense of accomplishment. And my kids understand. It's one of the things that makes them so awesome. They don't ask for much, and they recognize when we're able to do something extra. They make it a point to genuinely thank me for it. Then they appreciate the heck out of it.
So I said to myself (I talk to myself a lot), "Find something to write about that doesn't have to do with money." There has to be other aspects about single parenting that people can relate to that aren't centered around finances.
And then my mind went blank. I can't separate it out. Like, if I look in the mirror and my hair is starting to resemble Pepe LePew, whether or not a put on a hat and run to the store or pull it back in a ponytail and say "it's not so bad" depends on my checking account balance. It also determines how I do karaoke: whether I eat dinner at the restaurant, eat a hot dog at home and have one beer at the restaurant or just drink water. (Yes, I've done that.) Or whether or not the kids go skating or we have a family movie night. Or whether they have apples for an after school snack or cookies.
Meeting my family's needs and desires with what I have is what my single parenting experience is about. This is my challenge. Yours may be something entirely different. If I try to divorce the financial aspect from the rest of it, my single parenting story will not be authentic. It would be phony and not at all enjoyable to read or write. That would be a shame, because my hope for this blog is that somewhere out there, a single mom at her wit's and checkbook's end will find something useful in my story, even if it's just to see that someone somewhere understands.
And now back to our regularly scheduled blogging, already in progress...
Reading back over my posts the other day, I noticed a common theme. Money. Or rather, the lack thereof. I wasn't happy about that. I don't consider myself a materialistic person. Not at all. I want good things in life like everybody else, but they don't need to be the finer things. I don't even mind if the good things are worn at the seams a little, as long as it doesn't show. I don't think I'm engaged in a chasing a bigger bank account. (What would I do with a Jaguar, anyway? Oh...sell it and buy a house!) But what I saw was that virtually everything I've said, in some way spoke about money...and the fact that I don't have much of it. I worried -- in true me fashion -- that it makes me seem obsessed, or that I'm poor-mouthing myself.
The truth of it is, I really don't mind my situation so much. I won't go into a whole lot of detail here -- maybe I can share some stuff later -- but we have more of the good things in life and are more stable as a single parent household than we ever did as a two-parent household. I wouldn't change the way things are. Every need or want that I'm able to meet on my own that is beyond the usual feels fantastic. There's a terrific sense of accomplishment. And my kids understand. It's one of the things that makes them so awesome. They don't ask for much, and they recognize when we're able to do something extra. They make it a point to genuinely thank me for it. Then they appreciate the heck out of it.
So I said to myself (I talk to myself a lot), "Find something to write about that doesn't have to do with money." There has to be other aspects about single parenting that people can relate to that aren't centered around finances.
And then my mind went blank. I can't separate it out. Like, if I look in the mirror and my hair is starting to resemble Pepe LePew, whether or not a put on a hat and run to the store or pull it back in a ponytail and say "it's not so bad" depends on my checking account balance. It also determines how I do karaoke: whether I eat dinner at the restaurant, eat a hot dog at home and have one beer at the restaurant or just drink water. (Yes, I've done that.) Or whether or not the kids go skating or we have a family movie night. Or whether they have apples for an after school snack or cookies.
Meeting my family's needs and desires with what I have is what my single parenting experience is about. This is my challenge. Yours may be something entirely different. If I try to divorce the financial aspect from the rest of it, my single parenting story will not be authentic. It would be phony and not at all enjoyable to read or write. That would be a shame, because my hope for this blog is that somewhere out there, a single mom at her wit's and checkbook's end will find something useful in my story, even if it's just to see that someone somewhere understands.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
You can't choose your family....
..and that's a good thing, because I wouldn't trade the one I've got.
I've been thinking a lot about my sister, Rhonda, the last couple of days.
She would kill me if she saw me now.
No, she won't. She knows me too well. It's not that I don't care about getting my hair done. It's just that everytime I think about it, there's a compelling reason not to go. Like, I'm down to my last $20. Or it's too late in the day. Or, I'll do it tomorrow. Or...holy cow, has it really been almost a year?
She would just shake her head, get out her scissors and order me to sit down. She might even fuss a little bit. Then she would drape me in a black tarp, mix up some odd-looking concoction in an interesting shade of purple, and would set about the business of making me look beautiful.
Sometimes, she won't even tell me what she's doing. She just wants to know if I want to wear my hair long or short. Then she'll come up with a style or a coloring technique that is beyond what I would even know to ask for, but rocks! And the style depends on how long she expects it to be before she sees me again. Will it need to be something that looks good as it grows out?
I never look better than when she is around, and you can tell I haven't seen her in a year.
(Actually, somebody at Stella will be taking care of that very soon, thanks to a very dear friend. I'm so blessed by the people in my life!!!)
Rhonda is in Germany right now. Her husband is stationed in Heidelberg. And I got to go visit last year! That was a major coup for me, let me tell you. When I was married, the farthest away we got was Ohio and Jacksonville. (Ohio, by the way, SUCKS as a weekend trip!) I didn't get to visit Rhonda and Jeff when they lived in Alaska. It cost too much and was just unfathomable. I honestly never even entertained the thought that I could go.
But Germany? As a single parent? Wild horses couldn't keep me away (and I no longer had a husband who would try.) It took almost all of my tax refund, but I would do it again in a minute! The kids and I stayed two weeks over spring break. I got to read to my nephew Ricky's first-grade class, then-4-year-old Bekah got to feel grown up running all over base with her older cousins and without parent. I got to see the Alps (no amount of breathtaking photography will ever do them justice. They're just amazing.). And castles. And an amphitheater built by Hitler.
Rhonda and I sat up talking all hours of the night. We hung out with her friends, and went bowling, cooked Easter dinner and sang karaoke.
Out of all the people in my life, and there are so many good ones, she is probably my best friend. No one else has really been there through it all right there with me. She's always defended me like no one else. There's a six-hour time difference now, so we don't get to talk very often. We both get so busy. But hopefull she'll be home soon, and I'll have my karaoke buddy back, and my #1 hairstylist.
Even if only for a little while. I'm praying they'll be stationed on the East coast somewhere, where maybe I can afford to go visit about every three months, and she can come home sometimes.
I miss her. :(
I've been thinking a lot about my sister, Rhonda, the last couple of days.
She would kill me if she saw me now.
No, she won't. She knows me too well. It's not that I don't care about getting my hair done. It's just that everytime I think about it, there's a compelling reason not to go. Like, I'm down to my last $20. Or it's too late in the day. Or, I'll do it tomorrow. Or...holy cow, has it really been almost a year?
She would just shake her head, get out her scissors and order me to sit down. She might even fuss a little bit. Then she would drape me in a black tarp, mix up some odd-looking concoction in an interesting shade of purple, and would set about the business of making me look beautiful.
Sometimes, she won't even tell me what she's doing. She just wants to know if I want to wear my hair long or short. Then she'll come up with a style or a coloring technique that is beyond what I would even know to ask for, but rocks! And the style depends on how long she expects it to be before she sees me again. Will it need to be something that looks good as it grows out?
I never look better than when she is around, and you can tell I haven't seen her in a year.
(Actually, somebody at Stella will be taking care of that very soon, thanks to a very dear friend. I'm so blessed by the people in my life!!!)
Rhonda is in Germany right now. Her husband is stationed in Heidelberg. And I got to go visit last year! That was a major coup for me, let me tell you. When I was married, the farthest away we got was Ohio and Jacksonville. (Ohio, by the way, SUCKS as a weekend trip!) I didn't get to visit Rhonda and Jeff when they lived in Alaska. It cost too much and was just unfathomable. I honestly never even entertained the thought that I could go.
But Germany? As a single parent? Wild horses couldn't keep me away (and I no longer had a husband who would try.) It took almost all of my tax refund, but I would do it again in a minute! The kids and I stayed two weeks over spring break. I got to read to my nephew Ricky's first-grade class, then-4-year-old Bekah got to feel grown up running all over base with her older cousins and without parent. I got to see the Alps (no amount of breathtaking photography will ever do them justice. They're just amazing.). And castles. And an amphitheater built by Hitler.
Rhonda and I sat up talking all hours of the night. We hung out with her friends, and went bowling, cooked Easter dinner and sang karaoke.
Out of all the people in my life, and there are so many good ones, she is probably my best friend. No one else has really been there through it all right there with me. She's always defended me like no one else. There's a six-hour time difference now, so we don't get to talk very often. We both get so busy. But hopefull she'll be home soon, and I'll have my karaoke buddy back, and my #1 hairstylist.
Even if only for a little while. I'm praying they'll be stationed on the East coast somewhere, where maybe I can afford to go visit about every three months, and she can come home sometimes.
I miss her. :(
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Ah, teenagers
In a little more than a month, I will officially have two teenagers.
You know you have a teenage daughter when you run out of black socks a whole lot faster than you think you should.
Of course, it could also mean you need to step up the laundry rotation.
All I know is, I could buy two dozen pairs of black socks tomorrow, and by Monday my ankles will look like this!
You also know you have teenagers when you're scouring the cookbooks for cookie recipes that call for ingredients you already have in the cabinets so they will quit eating cereal as an after school snack.
*I think I could have a freezer and a fridge full of junk food, and they would still eat all the cereal.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
You might be a single mom if...
Okay...it's late, I'm tired and I've still got a ton to do, so rather than strain my own creativity, I'm borrowing from Jeff Foxworthy!
That and, well, my whole evening bespeaks single parenthood. So here goes:
You might be a single mom if:
* You're exited to find $7.43 left on a Target gift card because it means you can go buy your favorite facial cleanser and not feel guilty about it.
* You spend all evening working on taxes (after cursing the IRS site for four days), and at 9:45 p.m. run to Target because you are out of said cleanser. Yes...it's that important!
* No, it's not really. But your crock pot is in soak, you need it to put tomorrow's dinner in it, and you're out of Dawn. AND Electrasol. Since you have the Target card and need the facial soap, you might as well drive across town to go there.
* While comparing prices on Electrasol, you see you can buy a 20 ct. tabs with Powerball for $1.77 or you can buy the box of loose powder like you always do for $3.50. You go with the tabs, not because it's the best deal, but because it's less you have to spend tonight and it will last you through payday.
*You want to buy sodas, but they're $4 a case at Target. You know you can buy 2 cases of your usual off-brand at Kroger for the same price, so you expend the time, gas and energy to do so.
* You steal 20 minutes to check Facebook and write a blog post before you fill out medical forms for baseball and wash the dirty crockpot, and then want to cry when you realize it will be at least 11:30 p.m. before you can go to bed. But dang! A girl has to make time for herself somewhere!
*Sigh* Back to it. Goodnight, ya'll!
That and, well, my whole evening bespeaks single parenthood. So here goes:
You might be a single mom if:
* You're exited to find $7.43 left on a Target gift card because it means you can go buy your favorite facial cleanser and not feel guilty about it.
* You spend all evening working on taxes (after cursing the IRS site for four days), and at 9:45 p.m. run to Target because you are out of said cleanser. Yes...it's that important!
* No, it's not really. But your crock pot is in soak, you need it to put tomorrow's dinner in it, and you're out of Dawn. AND Electrasol. Since you have the Target card and need the facial soap, you might as well drive across town to go there.
* While comparing prices on Electrasol, you see you can buy a 20 ct. tabs with Powerball for $1.77 or you can buy the box of loose powder like you always do for $3.50. You go with the tabs, not because it's the best deal, but because it's less you have to spend tonight and it will last you through payday.
*You want to buy sodas, but they're $4 a case at Target. You know you can buy 2 cases of your usual off-brand at Kroger for the same price, so you expend the time, gas and energy to do so.
* You steal 20 minutes to check Facebook and write a blog post before you fill out medical forms for baseball and wash the dirty crockpot, and then want to cry when you realize it will be at least 11:30 p.m. before you can go to bed. But dang! A girl has to make time for herself somewhere!
*Sigh* Back to it. Goodnight, ya'll!
Monday, February 7, 2011
Growing very sleepy....
It's like Russian roulette.
My phone, sitting silent and black on my desk Friday, lit up with a number I didn't recognize. Oh, no, I thought. It's either a teacher, an interview subject I forgot I gave my number to, or a wrong number. Please be a wrong number!
Spin goes the chamber. And BANG!
"Hello, Ms. Kaylor?"
Crap. "This is Ms. so and so, Chris's teacher. He's been sleeping in my class and it's starting to affect his grades."
Christopher's defense sounded logical to me: "But I'm tired, and chemistry is boring." But logic won't help him earn back the A/B honor roll, and thus the weekday XBox, TV and Facebook privileges.
Since he seems to be getting enough sleep at night and not taking medications that make him drowsy, could I please take him to the doctor to make sure nothing was wrong with him? the teacher pleaded.
We already had a (totally useless) scheduled appointment for a physical this morning so he can play baseball, and we quickly found out we only needed the forms, not an appearance. But "since we're already here", he got a shot and a flu vaccine ("Gee, thanks, Mom") and we talked to the doctor about his sleep problems -- which are apparently caused by being a teenage boy.
And then the doctor said something that nearly scared the pants off of me.
If he's having a growth spurt, he will just need more sleep. And you can expect that to continue until he's 21.
I'm not worried about the sleep. Did I mention my child is 6'2...and only 15??
We looked just looked at each other. When he hit a size 13 shoe a year ago, his available shoe selection dropped by half at our usual shoe store. And then I started laughing, a pitiful, helpless laugh as I watched visions of dollar signs, special order stores and 7-foot measuring tapes swirl around his head. Heck, he's already taller than most men I know! Hand me downs? Not since he was about 10!!
"I'm going to to have to learn to sew your clothes and cobble your shoes!" I wailed.
We both cracked up.
I'll figure something out. How do I know? Because I always do. Because for a while, at least, we can still find clothes that fit him. Because I can't have a 7-foot naked kid walking around. Because I'm not as dumb as my kids give me credit for.
The Proof: The doctor continued through his recommendations for curing class slumber: at least 9 hours of sleep per night; no caffeine in the evening; no TV, radio or vigorous exercise within a couple of hours of bed; and maybe some type of caffeine in the morning to get him going.
"Wow, Mom," Christopher said after the doctor left the room. "Everything he said, you had already told me."
And look at that. I didn't even go to medical school!
My phone, sitting silent and black on my desk Friday, lit up with a number I didn't recognize. Oh, no, I thought. It's either a teacher, an interview subject I forgot I gave my number to, or a wrong number. Please be a wrong number!
Spin goes the chamber. And BANG!
"Hello, Ms. Kaylor?"
Crap. "This is Ms. so and so, Chris's teacher. He's been sleeping in my class and it's starting to affect his grades."
Christopher's defense sounded logical to me: "But I'm tired, and chemistry is boring." But logic won't help him earn back the A/B honor roll, and thus the weekday XBox, TV and Facebook privileges.
Since he seems to be getting enough sleep at night and not taking medications that make him drowsy, could I please take him to the doctor to make sure nothing was wrong with him? the teacher pleaded.
We already had a (totally useless) scheduled appointment for a physical this morning so he can play baseball, and we quickly found out we only needed the forms, not an appearance. But "since we're already here", he got a shot and a flu vaccine ("Gee, thanks, Mom") and we talked to the doctor about his sleep problems -- which are apparently caused by being a teenage boy.
And then the doctor said something that nearly scared the pants off of me.
If he's having a growth spurt, he will just need more sleep. And you can expect that to continue until he's 21.
I'm not worried about the sleep. Did I mention my child is 6'2...and only 15??
We looked just looked at each other. When he hit a size 13 shoe a year ago, his available shoe selection dropped by half at our usual shoe store. And then I started laughing, a pitiful, helpless laugh as I watched visions of dollar signs, special order stores and 7-foot measuring tapes swirl around his head. Heck, he's already taller than most men I know! Hand me downs? Not since he was about 10!!
"I'm going to to have to learn to sew your clothes and cobble your shoes!" I wailed.
We both cracked up.
I'll figure something out. How do I know? Because I always do. Because for a while, at least, we can still find clothes that fit him. Because I can't have a 7-foot naked kid walking around. Because I'm not as dumb as my kids give me credit for.
The Proof: The doctor continued through his recommendations for curing class slumber: at least 9 hours of sleep per night; no caffeine in the evening; no TV, radio or vigorous exercise within a couple of hours of bed; and maybe some type of caffeine in the morning to get him going.
"Wow, Mom," Christopher said after the doctor left the room. "Everything he said, you had already told me."
And look at that. I didn't even go to medical school!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Of charity and cheeseburgers
Well, hey! Come on in. I'll put on a pot of decaf. Yeah, I know I said I'd always have one ready, but I have to drink something else sometime! I usually start brewing my evening pot after dinner, while the kids are taking their showers. You're in luck. I just bought some Almond Joy creamer. Can you say YUM??
Kids are something else, aren't they? I don't always think about what I'm teaching them, but occasionally I think I might be doing something right.
Like yesterday, when Catie looked at me with her big ol' puppy dog eyes. I didn't know what she wanted, but I was pretty sure I couldn't afford it. She said in a little-girly voice, "Can I ask you something?" I said, "Yes," but "No" was on the tip of my tongue behind it.
"Can you drive me up to McDonald's or Burger King, and I can buy lunch for the whole family?"
I said, "N...", but I had to stop and think about it for minute. Now, I knew she had only $10, and I always tell them not to eat their money. They don't get an allowance, so when they do get money, I want them to spend it on something for themselves. Something they can use, or keep, or put toward something that they really want.
Catie earns some money helping me do jewelry shows (I sell Premier jewelry), so I knew she'd get more next week. And she really wanted to do something nice for her family. Now, because of our situation (and how often we have to say no), people are generous a lot times. It's nice, and we really appreciate it. There are all kinds of things we have gotten to do or just gotten because somebody somewhere was generous. Accepting things is humbling, especially if you do it enough. (Frankly, after the life I've had and the choices I've made, I'm past the point of feeling bad for accepting, as long as I'm doing all I can by myself. I'm not going to take advantage of anybody, but I figure people don't offer if they don't really want to. I hope that doesn't sound bad.) Maybe that's why a lot of people don't like to accept help. It's a pride thing.
But sometimes, you want to be on the other side. You want to be the giver for a change. It makes you feel like you have something valuable to offer the world. It makes you feel blessed. And maybe that's why people love to give. (Have you ever noticed that? People love to give help but hate to accept it?) And that is what I saw when I looked into my baby girl's eyes. She wanted to do something nice for her family. She wanted to give what she could to the people she loves.
So we left Christopher to his Facebook and went to Burger King. That's where I found out what she REALLY wanted was to buy ICEEs for herself and her brother. But on $10, that plus lunch for three wasn't going to happen. (Christopher, I should mention, is 15 and 6'2. That's a lot of cheeseburgers!) I bought my own lunch and Christopher's fries, and that left her with enough to buy lunch for herself and her brother, one of those heart attacks on a bun he likes so much. She was so proud of herself! She got one of each flavor ICEE and even gave him his choice. Which led to a moment of musical ICEES, because everybody had to taste them both. (It's a good thing none of us have cooties!)
I wondered how long the harmony would last before a flying remote control would shatter it. Surprisingly, it lasted all day!
Kids are something else, aren't they? I don't always think about what I'm teaching them, but occasionally I think I might be doing something right.
Like yesterday, when Catie looked at me with her big ol' puppy dog eyes. I didn't know what she wanted, but I was pretty sure I couldn't afford it. She said in a little-girly voice, "Can I ask you something?" I said, "Yes," but "No" was on the tip of my tongue behind it.
"Can you drive me up to McDonald's or Burger King, and I can buy lunch for the whole family?"
I said, "N...", but I had to stop and think about it for minute. Now, I knew she had only $10, and I always tell them not to eat their money. They don't get an allowance, so when they do get money, I want them to spend it on something for themselves. Something they can use, or keep, or put toward something that they really want.
Catie earns some money helping me do jewelry shows (I sell Premier jewelry), so I knew she'd get more next week. And she really wanted to do something nice for her family. Now, because of our situation (and how often we have to say no), people are generous a lot times. It's nice, and we really appreciate it. There are all kinds of things we have gotten to do or just gotten because somebody somewhere was generous. Accepting things is humbling, especially if you do it enough. (Frankly, after the life I've had and the choices I've made, I'm past the point of feeling bad for accepting, as long as I'm doing all I can by myself. I'm not going to take advantage of anybody, but I figure people don't offer if they don't really want to. I hope that doesn't sound bad.) Maybe that's why a lot of people don't like to accept help. It's a pride thing.
But sometimes, you want to be on the other side. You want to be the giver for a change. It makes you feel like you have something valuable to offer the world. It makes you feel blessed. And maybe that's why people love to give. (Have you ever noticed that? People love to give help but hate to accept it?) And that is what I saw when I looked into my baby girl's eyes. She wanted to do something nice for her family. She wanted to give what she could to the people she loves.
So we left Christopher to his Facebook and went to Burger King. That's where I found out what she REALLY wanted was to buy ICEEs for herself and her brother. But on $10, that plus lunch for three wasn't going to happen. (Christopher, I should mention, is 15 and 6'2. That's a lot of cheeseburgers!) I bought my own lunch and Christopher's fries, and that left her with enough to buy lunch for herself and her brother, one of those heart attacks on a bun he likes so much. She was so proud of herself! She got one of each flavor ICEE and even gave him his choice. Which led to a moment of musical ICEES, because everybody had to taste them both. (It's a good thing none of us have cooties!)
I wondered how long the harmony would last before a flying remote control would shatter it. Surprisingly, it lasted all day!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Welcome!
Grab a mug and help yourself to some coffee. I've got plenty. I bleed the stuff. If I have the good creamer, it's in the fridge. But since I'm drinking leaded in the morning and unleaded to unwind at night, I might be out. In which case, Splenda's in the sugar jar (if I'm out of that, too, sugar's in the cabinet. I've been known to use brown sugar in a pinch, and that's in the other cabinet. It's actually pretty good!) and you know where to find the milk. If I'm out of milk, too, well...sorry!! Want some ice water?
I bet you're wondering why I invited you here. Basically, I like to tell stories. I don't make them up (out loud, but I tell myself some pretty good ones under the hairdryer in the mornings. Or when I'm folding clothes. Or driving to work. Or anytime I think no one will hear me!). I love life and I think I have pretty good one, even if sometimes I do want to pull my hair out by the gray roots. My friends get earfuls and the more I can make them laugh, the better I love it.
I also fancy myself a writer. I do it for my day job, as a reporter for the local newspaper, but I've been talking for years about writing a book. It's scary, though, that book-writing thing. That's an awful lot of words and I can't imagine anyone would pay much for whatever I have to say. And then when you think about the thousands of other aspiring writers out there trying to publish books, wow. What could I say that would set me apart? Aside from the fact that I don't know if I could write believable fiction. I've always been better with the true stories. And there's the time commitment involved in writing a book. Did I mention I'm a single mom?? But one day I will eat that elephant...one bite at a time, just to say I did it.
Which leads me to this. Here I can tell you a few true stories from my everyday life...the good, the bad and the aggravating. This isn't so scary. If you don't like my tales, you'll just click and be gone. I'll miss you, but I'll understand that I'm just not your cup of (ahem) coffee. But if you do like them, you'll come back for more. And I really hope you'll come back. I'll keep the coffeepot full, just in case. :)
I bet you're wondering why I invited you here. Basically, I like to tell stories. I don't make them up (out loud, but I tell myself some pretty good ones under the hairdryer in the mornings. Or when I'm folding clothes. Or driving to work. Or anytime I think no one will hear me!). I love life and I think I have pretty good one, even if sometimes I do want to pull my hair out by the gray roots. My friends get earfuls and the more I can make them laugh, the better I love it.
I also fancy myself a writer. I do it for my day job, as a reporter for the local newspaper, but I've been talking for years about writing a book. It's scary, though, that book-writing thing. That's an awful lot of words and I can't imagine anyone would pay much for whatever I have to say. And then when you think about the thousands of other aspiring writers out there trying to publish books, wow. What could I say that would set me apart? Aside from the fact that I don't know if I could write believable fiction. I've always been better with the true stories. And there's the time commitment involved in writing a book. Did I mention I'm a single mom?? But one day I will eat that elephant...one bite at a time, just to say I did it.
Which leads me to this. Here I can tell you a few true stories from my everyday life...the good, the bad and the aggravating. This isn't so scary. If you don't like my tales, you'll just click and be gone. I'll miss you, but I'll understand that I'm just not your cup of (ahem) coffee. But if you do like them, you'll come back for more. And I really hope you'll come back. I'll keep the coffeepot full, just in case. :)
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