And on the Third Day...

Three days ago I gave up Facebook for Lent.  This should be easy, I shouldn't be dependent on an internet social network, I can go 40 days without knowing who "likes" who or what.  But it's not, I am and I'm just a little curious.

For me, Facebook is a quick check-in with friends and family.  I spend a lot of time at the computer each day, so it's easy, between entering invoices or paying bills, to log into to Facebook and see what everyone's up to.  It reminds me of my college days when I shared a house with four other women and spontaneous group study breaks took place in the kitchen over a pot of cheap coffee.  You're still up?  Did you finish that paper?  What are your plans for the weekend?

The past couple of days have been mostly about breaking this habit.  Sometimes I find myself bored and restless, looking for something online to entertain me.  Yesterday I actually clicked on the article titled "Kourtney K Reveals Sex of Her Baby."  Yes, I have sunk that low.

But on the positive side, I have had bouts of increased productivity, undistracted by status updates or the new "Timeline."  Wednesday I completed all the paperwork needed for both our personal and company income taxes--this usual takes me several days, what with questions for the accountant and finding the right paperwork.  Done!  Yesterday I drove all the paperwork to the CPA, went grocery shopping, came home to complete the health insurance updates, paid bills and completed invoices. 

Then I found out Kourtney Kardashian is having a little girl.

Only 37 more days to go...

You Can't Make Me

"You can't make me", the four words most likely to drive a parent to drink.  Some children seem to come out of the womb with these words forming in their mouths, just waiting for the muscle control to make it intelligible.  My son is just such a child.  By the age of two we had to try all sorts of tricks to get him in the tub, putting pajamas on required stickers, and getting him to eat anything but peanut butter resorted to out right falsehoods. (I once told him the fish sticks were french fries--it worked for the first four bites.  I considered it a success.)

Now that my children are older (and taller than me), the dreaded phrase has taken on new meaning.  They are right--I can't really make them do anything; not physically anyway.  So I have had to resort to more devious tactics, akin to psychological warfare.

My son, now a sophomore in high school, has played soccer for years and years, and seemed to really enjoy playing on the school team last year.  Now, one week before the beginning of the season, he's announced he no longer wants to play.  Had he been busy with challenging classes and other sports up until now, I could understand, but he's been sitting on the couch playing Xbox and pulling C's in two classes.  I am not feeling very understanding.

It could be that he's decided he really no longer has a passion for the game and wants to spend his energy elsewhere (I just hope it's not getting the high score on Xbox "Modern Warfare").  He says he'd like to go out for track, instead.  But I suspect a large part of this is his "you can't make me" personality.  He likes to say things that he knows will push his parents right over the edge and then turn around and act like it never happened.

Which ever it may be, I have given him an ultimatum:  pick a sport, get a part-time job, or work like h*ll and get straight A's.  His father and I are pretty sure it won't be the last option.

My soon-to-be teenage daughter is proving to be much more pliable.  After a tough couple months with a hard-to-please, quick-to-yell band teacher, she had told us she wasn't going to do band in 8th grade.  The tension in class just wasn't worth it, so she and her best friend had decided to pick a different elective next year.  Again, it's hard to watch them just drop something they're good at and, up until now, have enjoyed.  So I broke out my rah-rah, when-the-going-gets-tough speech and laid it on thick to her and her friend.  I explained that if they wanted to be in band in high school (the high school music teacher is wonderful and the band goes to Disneyland), it wasn't a good idea to take a year off.  I told my daughter if she really, really hated, I'd let her quit, but asked her to think long and hard about it first.

Oh, I am good. 

A few days ago I asked her what she'd decided.  She said she and her friend agreed to stick it out another year with the difficult teacher so they'd be ready for high school.  "Oh," I said, "I changed your mind!"  No, it turns out her friend talked her into it.  Well, at least I'm very persuasive to other people's children.

A week will tell what my son has decided is or isn't his new passion.  Honestly, I really don't care.  As long as it's not Xbox.

Calculus

Our state governor just signed a bill legalizing gay marriage in Washington state, making some people happy and others very, very angry.  The whole thing leaves me a little perplexed.  If the people fighting for gay marriage really knew what marriage was like, would they be fighting so hard for it?  Why are those other people angry?  Do they need a law guaranteeing their right to marry?  (Wait, they already have that).  What the heck is going on here?  To help me understand this conundrum I will take the situation step by step and see if I can't figure it out.

It seems those fighting for gay marriage want to be able to marry the people they love.  Hmm, seems reasonable.  It seems homosexuals are people who get up every morning, go to work, pay taxes, and want to know that if the person they love gets in a horrible car accident,  they will be allowed in the hospital room to say goodbye.  So we have established that gay people work and love and die. ( Hey, just like straight people!)

For the record that I am pro-marriage.  When done right, marriage can be a very good thing.  I am also pro-sex.  Again, when done right, it can be a very, very good thing.  Apparently the stumbling block for some people is the "same" part.  I have to be honest and admit that I cannot fathom marrying someone of my own sex.  Living with a woman would drive me crazy (I don't know how my husband does it).  I really don't get the whole homosexuality thing, but I realize one thing:

Just because I don't understand something does not make it wrong.

Take, for example, calculus--I just never understood it (Imaginary numbers?  What?!).  Be that as it may, many people assure me that it really does exist. It's not just something they decided to try out because it was "cool." I also don't understand why God gave men nipples or why He lets little children die of cancer, but I trust He knows what he's doing. He made some people gay and some people straight.  I don't have to understand it--I just accept it and move on.

Many of those angry over this issue argue homosexuality is forbidden by the bible.  I don't know how many you have read the bible, but it is chock full of all sorts of things we're not supposed to do that plenty of church-going Christians do every day.  Putting aside the very obvious political candidate who has broken at least two of the Ten Commandments, all good Christians should refrain from eating pork (Leviticus 11), getting tattoos (Leviticus 19:28) or live in glass houses. (Or was that throw stones?)
Some say that allowing homosexuals to marry will threaten the institution of marriage. I am currently serving time in that institution and I don't feel threatened at all. This might change if another man wanted to marry my husband, but otherwise I feel pretty safe.  (Actually I'd feel pretty safe anyway--my husband doesn't understand calculus, either.  And he's used to my cooking.)

It seems to me that some people react with fear and anger to things they don't understand.  If they can't fit a something into the framework of their own lives (or holy books), they think that thing is wrong.  What they don't realize is that it's just calculus and no one else understands it, either.  It's just time to accept it and move on.

QED

(Thank you to the website http://www.11points.com/Books/11_Things_The_Bible_Bans,_But_You_Do_Anyway)

Where Have All the Republicans Gone?

As part of my new self improvement regime, I have decided that just because I can't understand someone else's viewpoint, doesn't mean they're crazy. (Okay, the people on "Toddlers and Tiaras" are crazy, but that's a given.) When it comes to politics, I tend to lean toward the liberal Democrat side, all touchy-feely and give people affordable health care mumbo-jumbo. I am, however, ready to accept that Republicans are people, too, and might just have some ideas worth listening to. The Republican presidential primaries (hereby known as the "Three Ring Circus") is not making it easy on me. Stuttering debaters, womanizing pizza moguls, and the Comb Over who will not go away all give me nightmares. I really want to stay open minded, but give me something to work with, people!

In trying to see it from a Republican's perspective, I imagine they are mighty embarrassed by this parade of not-quite-front-runners. I'm sure in person, and in their own corner of the country, these candidates are interesting people and dynamic leaders. They probably seemed like a good idea at the time (kind of like that silly Snuggie you ordered last year). But put them through a little scrutiny and suddenly every pimple they've ever had (and that one time they screamed at their kids in the grocery store) seems like a threat to national security.

That being said, it's beginning to seem like the Republican Party is randomly throwing out candidates, hoping one will stick. As it stands today, it seems that the two front runners are Newt Gingrich, who many in his own party (and several of his wives) admit they have no faith in, and Mitt "Anyone But Mitt" Romney. If the Republicans can't even get behind a candidate, how can they expect me to?

While I have not exactly been up-to-date on my church attendance, I think this may be the time to squeeze in a few Hail Marys and perhaps a confession. We could all use a prayer about now, because these people are crazy.

Resolutions to Live By

Many people's New Year's Resolutions last as long as celebrity marriages.  According to a recent article in the Huffington Post,  the three most common resolutions are to lose weight, save more money, and spend more time with family.  By February these people will be crying into their pint of Haggen Dazs after they've spent all their money to have their loved ones removed from their will.  I have never been one for making resolutions (in part because I know I won't keep them), but I think I've come up with a few I can work with.

In the year 2012 I resolve to eat more chocolate.  Not just any chocolate, but the good kind.  The kind of chocolate that's so rich and creamy you get love handles the minute you swallow it. The kind of chocolate that you won't share with your kids because it's too good and they wouldn't appreciate it.  I figure if I will be eating sweets anyway (and let's face it, I will be eating sweets), I might as well make it worth the calories. I resolve to enjoy what I eat.

This year I resolve to spend more time away from my family.  Being a stay-at-home mom means you're always available for whatever anyone needs you to do.  Your family seems to think that because you don't have a regular job that you need to be at during certain hours, your time is theirs.  This, of course, is a ton of malarkey, if only because you are now so busy doing what no one else has time to do--return the library books,  walk the dog,  have a nervous breakdown while sobbing into your pint of Haggen Dazs.  I resolve to tell my family "no" more often and  spend more time on what I want to do.  (If necessary I will hide at undisclosed locations--if you see me lurking in the back of Starbucks in a wig and fake mustache, mums the word.)

Lastly, this new year I resolve to not worry about money.  Yes, I should be putting more aside for retirement and, yes, just because my son has C in math doesn't make a college fund unnecessary, but this is what financial advisers are for.  Saving for the future so you're not sixty-five and eating dog food (while sharing a mobile home with your unemployable child) is all well and good.  Preparing for the future is great, but enjoying your present is important, too.  What good is a well funded retirement if we never went on vacation?  Who needs a well-educated daughter who never calls because you never once splurged on that treat?  I resolve to enjoy what money we have to spend.

New Year's resolutions are too easy to make and too hard to keep.  We all want to be better people, but what's wrong with the person you are now?  Besides, if the whole Mayan calendar is right, we're all off the hook, anyway.

You Can Go Home Again (But It'll Be Really Weird)

I went to visit family in my home town over Thanksgiving weekend.  I took the kids and we stayed in my parents house.  My parents are now living in an assisted living community and my sister lives in the house by herself.  Some things have changed (air conditioning!) and some haven't changed since I was a kid (same old upright freezer in the basement that makes the lights flicker).

The house that used to contain two parents, five kids, one dog and various rotating pet rodents seems to have shrunk.  The rooms are smaller than I remember, the yard seems hardly big enough to toss a football in (though I know many were tossed in that yard with no harmful effects), and how did five kids share the one bathroom?  It's not like I am that much bigger physically than when I lived at home, and my current home is hardly the Taj Mahal.  Perhaps it's like when you get a bigger purse because your stuff won't fit in the old one and suddenly the bigger purse has just as much crap spilling out of it.  Apparently I don't fit in this space anymore.

While we were there, I slept in my parents old bedroom.  This is the same room they slept in since before I was born.   Same bedroom furniture, same clay hand prints from all us kids hanging on the wall, same fancy nightie belonging to my mom hanging in the closet. Yeah, let that one sink in for a minute.

I finally came to the very obvious and real conclusion that my parents are mortal.  Dad's poor health is the reason they are in assisted living, but Mom can't do what she once could, either.  Someday in the not-too-far future my parents will be gone and I will be left with just my siblings as a connection to my past.  Scary thought when you consider I was an annoying little sister--they might not remember my childhood quite so fondly.

While we were in town we took my mother out to lunch and I drove.  Although I am a middle aged mother of three who drives a minivan, Mom still grabs on to the armrest like I'm doing 80 mph in a school zone.  It almost made me feel like a thoughtless teenager again.

Being in that space that once seemed so large but now seems to have shrunk made me realize that my kids are growing up at an alarming rate.  I remember visiting my parents with my newborn baby boy and how proud I was to be responsible for this tiny human being.  Now that baby boy has his learner's permit and is a good seven inches taller than me.  My kids aren't little anymore.  They seem to be hurtling toward independence and adulthood.  And someday I will be some body's aging mother who needs help moving into assisted living.

Weird.

A Day in the Life

Many of you may think being a stay at home soccer mom is a glamorous and financially rewarding career path, but I am here to tell you that this occupation comes with a few drawbacks.  For example, this is how I spent my day:

Awoke to the sounds of husband and two of the kids rattling around downstairs a little before 7 am; was slightly annoyed as the kids aren't allowed out of their rooms until 7 and I could have used those 3 extra minutes of sleep.  (Teenager, of course, was still thoughtfully sleeping.)  I drug myself out of bed anyway as I had a full day ahead.  God may have rested on Sunday, but mothers are just getting started.

Grumbled at my husband as he was thoughtless enough to come into the kitchen before I had coffee.

Newspaper, coffee and a shower later I felt a little more like I might make it through the day without causing a divorce or a visit from CPS.  On this up note, I decided to hit the grocery store early before I got caught in the whirlwind of soccer games and laundry.  Mistakenly chose Walmart as my quick trip and spent a hour wandering around the monolith complaining how nothing was where it should be and the lack of selection.  I still managed to come out of there with about 20 more things than were on my list.  I hate Walmart.

Home again to start the first of what turned out to be ten loads of laundry.  One old grocery list and a lot of plant debris was discovered at the end of several loads.  I'm not sure how clean any of those clothes are, but I used soap and water, so I'm calling it good.

Started making dinner before lunch as I knew we wouldn't be back until after 5:30 and I couldn't take another dinner of chicken nuggets and baby carrots.  The down side of the soccer season ending is now that we are all home at dinner time, my family seems to expect me to cook an actual meal.  With ingredients purchased ahead of time and a recipe and main food groups.  I seem to have forgotten this skill and feel slightly irritated that they remember sit down meals.

Dinner is finished and packaged away for future consumption just in time for one and all to declare their desire for lunch.

More laundry.

Tried to find two matching soccer socks for middle child.  With all the black socks I have purchased since my oldest started playing soccer you'd think our house would be bursting at the seams with black soccer socks.  I found two that were clean and only inches apart in length.  Victory is mine!

Older daughter is seen off to her game with husband while I hurry along the younger daughter in her preparation. (Teenager is thoughtfully staying out of the way by playing Xbox in living room.)

Stand in the rain at younger daughters game and then hurry home to change for the end of the season team party.  Find that older daughter has brought most of the soccer field home with her.  Bathroom looks like a mud slide took place.  Try not to grump as we shepherd everyone back in the stinky minivan.  (Teenager conveniently stays behind so his sisters won't have anyone to fight with.)

Soccer party at pizza place that apparently wasn't expecting a soccer party and only has one waitress and mediocre pizza.  So hungry I eat it anyway.  So much for carefully prepared dinner.

Come home to find teenager hasn't finished his chores or his homework.  And somehow this is my fault. 

Finish cleaning mud off the towel bar and the shower curtain in the bathroom.  Wonder how clean daughter got if her towel has chunks of mud on it.  I hope she used soap and water.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day. A school and work day, so at least I can finish the laundry in peace.