How are you?

I’m one of those people who usually answers with a “Fine” or “okay”.  Because the reality is usually I’m neither but I don’t think the person asking wants to REALLY KNOW HOW I AM at that specific moment.  Not because they’re a horrible person, but because they’re being polite and they really have their own problems to deal with.

How Am I?

I’m stressed because I’m the mother of a teenage son who struggles in school because he won’t turn in homework and lies about it constantly so he won’t get in trouble.  This son is handsome and tall and smart and thinks that smiling, pouring on the charm and telling me that he loves me will cure all ills. 

I’m frustrated because my almost-no-longer-a-teenager-yet-not-quite-chronologically-adult son who has a part-time job spends the rest of his time playing online games and ignoring his household responsibilities.  He’s hysterically funny and quick-witted and handsome but thinks that mumbling and avoiding what he’s been asked to do will make it all go away.

I’m guilty because I’m the wife of a hard working man who puts in 12 hour days (including commute) and volunteers for many other activities yet can’t seem to find the time to get my short-term jobs around the house done even though I nag him.  He’s handsome and funny and the man I fell in love with yet believes that I really don’t love him because I just can’t seem to want to rip his clothes off and have romance novel sex at the drop of a hat.

I’m sad because I’m the financial advisor, banker and accountant for a family that struggles like most with too many things to spend money on and not quite enough money to spend on it all.  There is always one more bill to pay, one more payment to juggle and one more check that I forgot I’d written and didn’t put down in the log.

I’m anxious because I’m the entertainment committee and need to be willing at a moment’s notice to go on a date, drive for ice cream, walk the dog, drive to the mall or manage the finances for vacation or camps or movies or dinners out.

I’m tired because I’m the gardener who has to figure out how to control the weeds and the moss, recognize when the lawns need to be mowed or watered (because it’s not obvious to the world that the grass needs a hair cut).  Plants need to be purchased and planted and watered and pruned and maintained and there’s no one else who remembers to do all this or has time to research what needs to be done.

I’m scatter-brained because I’m the chauffeur for the masses of children who I care for and whom I am responsible for getting to school and appointments and sports and events and play dates. 

I’m torn because I’m the receptionist who has to decide whether to let the machine answer the phone or get hung up on by the phone-robot who wants to sell me any number of things I don’t need, can’t afford or intend to purchase; or for the credit card that I no longer have or to locate the husband’s ex-wife whom he hasn’t been married to in over 20 years.

I’m exasperated because I’m the shopper, menu developer and chef for exacting “customers” who will only eat certain chicken nuggets (not home-made), chicken (not beef) Ramen noodles, and raw but not cooked carrots; spaghetti sauce with no chunks, no Alfredo sauce ever, or lasagna, thank you.  Steak and salmon and shrimp are fantastic; hot dogs are better than bratwurst and there should be no pulp in my orange juice.  Bacon, not sausage and no sourdough pancakes (although I’ll admit my husband is the breakfast chef and he is the recipient of the breakfast complaints unless I make breakfast for dinner).

I am disheartened because I am the occasion remember-er, the gift buyer and the card shopper; as well as the calendar keeper, gift wrapper and card signer and yet no one knows what to get me.

I am worn-out because I am the list maker and decider of when and how things get done. 

I am drained to be the one who takes the phone calls and emails from school, the doctor’s office and the coaches.

I am fed-up because I am the one who checks the online grade reports, sorts the mail, answers the emails and cleans out the lint trap in the dryer.

I am agitated to be the one who asks and asks and asks (and then, yes, finally SHOUTS) for things to be done, finished, completed, STARTED, cleaned-up, picked-up, wiped-up or put away.

I resentful because I am the one who feeds the dragon and the dog most of the time; and remembers (or notices again) when we’re almost out of food for the 10^th time.

I concerned because I can sing most of the PBS pre-school show-tunes at a moment’s notice but can’t remember the words to an entire top-40 song anymore.  I can tell you all of the Sesame Street characters, but can’t remember the names of all four Musketeers without looking it up (they’re Aramis, Porthos, Athos and d’Artagnan by the way).

I am irritated because I am the bad cop, the worry-wart, the complainer, the nagger, the one who’s never happy, the negative Nelly and the wet blanket.

I am nervous as a struggling business woman who is in charge of marketing, sales, delivery, production, finance and human resources for my company.

I am mystified to be the detective in charge of finding the lost bike lock, glasses, phone numbers, the origin of “that odor” and what the source of the science experiment in the refrigerator is.  I’m also supposed to remember what size shoes, pants, shirts and underwear all the men in my family wear.

I’m puzzled that I’m supposed to remember what my son’s favorite color is currently (because it changes) but conveniently forget that he said “I wuj you momma” or that he knew the name of every construction vehicle by the time he was three.

I’m bewildered because I’m not supposed to kiss them goodnight or say “I love you” publicly, but I’m expected to have ace bandages, Neosporin and advice ready at all times when they get hurt physically or emotionally.

I’m preoccupied with remembering different passwords for a gazillion different websites (that we’ve used once and only five email clients ago), as well as the name of my husband’s co-workers, wives, children and all the years and companies he’s worked for.

I’m the aggressive destroyer of dust-rhinos, the chaser of flies and spiders and wandering bees, the scraper of unknown substances, the cleaner of chairs and couches; the wiper of constantly running noses and changer of diapers. 

I’m the reluctant hoarder of photographs, videos, baby teeth and scrap book items.  I’m the collector of family history and memorabilia.  I’m the keeper of birth certificates and passports, insurance documents and tax records.

I’m so many other things that sometimes I can’t remember where I’m going or what I’m doing when I get in the car and drive somewhere.

Thanks for asking, I’m fine, thanks.  How are you?

What do you DO ALL DAY???

Recently the youngest of my children has been comparing his “chore list” to the amount of things he thinks I do every day.  “Why do I have to do that?”  “Why do you get all that (computer/TV/free) time and I only get a little?”   {By the way, this is the REAL point of everything he complains about – I have all this time to do “whatever I want” while he constantly is required to slave away with no time to himself at all…}

My standard response is to defend myself.  And, as I suspect many of my mom friends do, I feel guilty about how “little” I actually do to “earn my free time”.  You know what I mean.  Your kids see you constantly in front of the computer or sitting on the couch reading or watching TV.  It’s like you do nothing else all day; and when we review the day in our heads, all we blame ourselves for is how “little we got done that day”.

So, I want you all to spend a bit of time with me and think about how much we actually do for our families that are really over-looked and give ourselves credit for how much we actually do for other people. 

Is there milk in the fridge?  Orange juice, yogurt, eggs, cheese sticks and all the other snacks that seem to disappear at warp speed? 

Who makes the shopping list every week and remembers to replace the chocolate sauce that you know you’re out of, but didn’t use the last of without putting on the list?

Is it you that remembers to take the clothing to the dry cleaners and pick it up?

Balancing the check book, paying the bills, budgeting, depositing or withdrawing money.    All those things magically happen on their own, right?

The laundry is apparently capable of washing, drying and folding itself if I were to believe my children.  Think about this – with a mind of its own, the dirty clothes (who can tell if they’re dirty or clean) fly themselves to the laundry room, sorted by color and fabric (of course).  They are then capable of opening the washing machine lid, stuffing themselves inside while pouring the appropriate amounts of detergent, stain remover and fabric softener in the dispensers.  After starting the cycle by twisting the knobs or pushing the correct buttons for fabric and length, they swim around in their warm, soapy bath and then are spun damp.  At this point they magically move themselves to the dryer and clean out the lint trap (don’t forget to throw the lint away!).  At the end of their busy journey, they fold themselves and return to their drawers, neatly stacked.  Yeah, right.

Meal planning, grocery shopping, putting it all away; not to mention loading the kids in and out of the car and keeping them occupied while you do it all.  Don’t forget the constant chorus of “mom, I forgot I NEED…” at least once a week which requires a separate trip – usually after you just got home – to some store that closed an hour ago (and is the only store that has it in stock, but your child has known about the need for over a week).

What about updating the calendar with doctor and dentist appointments, keeping track of immunizations, allergies and medications and pulling the kids out of school while juggling your work schedule, the sports schedule and how much gas you have in your tank at the same time.   And I’m sure you’re one of those people who have juice boxes and snacks in the car (or drive through the fast food place) because, unfortunately they HAVE to eat.  Again.

And don’t forget the gifts, cards and parties that never seem to end.  Or the cupcakes/brownies/snacks for the baseball team or ballet class while remembering who has a peanut allergy or doesn’t like chocolate.

Reading lists?  Homework?  Checking the grades online?  Emailing the teachers or responding to what-seems-like a thousand emails a day?  Returning phone calls and checking the answering machine/voicemail? 

How about fundraisers, booster clubs, concert or performance events?  Keeping the uniforms washed (or at least remembering where they dropped on the floor) while helping your shy child sell more cookies or popcorn by using email or some social network to post their current fund-raising need.  And then following up by helping said child deliver the product and collecting the money.

Sorting through the piles of junk that come into our lives every day:  field trip forms, reading lists, homework sheets, junk mail, flyers, coupons, newspapers, event reminders, bills, newsletters, leftover pieces of paper that would give hoarders a run for their money if they weren’t taken care of at semi-regular intervals.

And what about that constantly updating “to-do” list in your head?  Wash the windows, repair the hole, dust the furniture, call a friend, buy more socks, charge the batteries, call the tree guy… 

Add all these things to your work, schooling, eating, sleeping and relationship time and you’ve done nothing all day long; or so it seems. 

The next time you feel like you haven’t done ANYTHING all day long – or someone accuses you of the same; remember all the “little” things you do every day, every week that make others’ lives easier and more manageable.

And give yourself a break while you read your book, take a bath, play on Facebook or chat with a friend.  You deserve it.

I haven’t written much about this subject because it’s bound to upset someone and, knowing that I’ll hurt someone’s feelings or make them mad, I’ve tried to avoid the issue in general discussion.

Let’s talk about Boy Scouts of America and homosexuality.

I’d like to start off by saying that I don’t hate homosexuals, nor do I wish them any harm.  I don’t know how God will decide if they go to heaven or not and I don’t have the answers regarding why some people are “born that way” or not.  I also don’t understand bacon-maple-bars or why anyone would jump out of (perfectly good) airplanes, but that doesn’t make maple bars or sky-divers wrong or evil.  I don’t think AIDS/HIV is God’s punishment for homosexuality (but it is a consequence just like pregnancy is a consequence of sex).  I don’t find homosexuals creepy or scary or evil.

But, I don’t agree with them either.  Marriage isn’t a right for anyone.  Sex was designed for the creation of children.  Yes, we as a species enjoy the act of sex – to my knowledge we were designed to do so.  But sex is not just about pleasure and love; it’s about making babies.  Biologically, physically, emotionally, it’s hard for me to rationalize that our bodies that were made to fit like two puzzle pieces – man and woman – should be used in a way that doesn’t fit.  It’s like two negative sides of a magnet.  They push away; they don’t attract like a negative and a positive.

However, I don’t get to decide who anyone else is attracted to or even who they marry or have sex with.  And, I can’t honestly say I understand why God would “allow” same sex attraction when he specifically forbids it in both the Old and New Testaments of the Bible.  I know that adultery and substance abuse are spoken against in the Bible as well as other things that God considers sin.  I also know that God gives us, his creations, free will so that we can choose to obey his laws or go against them. 

Sermon over; opinion starting.

Boy Scouts of America is a PRIVATE organization and not open to everyone.  It’s not open to girls (although allows female leaders); it’s not open to children under the age of 6 and over 21.  And, as the organization lays out its membership “rules” in every book and manual, it’s not a surprise that they expect there to be a moral code.

I won’t argue what morality is or if people choosing to live against God’s laws can be moral or not.  We’re all sinners and there are really no levels of sin (although there are some sins listed as abhorrent).  It’s not like alcoholics will have a different level of salvation than murders or rich people than poor.  Our salvation is based on choice and our willingness to live according to God’s laws is how I believe God judges our eternal reward.

 

BSA specifically states that they have a moral code and that members must have some sense of religion or spirituality.  Scouts at every rank level are asked to review their family’s religious beliefs.  BSA is available in many countries and open to many religions including Muslim, Catholic, Buddhist, Jewish, Orthodox and Protestant.  (Wikipedia)

Robert Baden Powell felt strongly about religion – specifically Christianity – in the program saying “We aim for the practice of Christianity in their everyday life and dealings, and not merely the profession of theology on Sundays…” (Scouting for Boys, Baden-Powell, Oxford University Press). 

Christianity has several references to same-sex relationships, marriage and homosexuality in the Bible; Islam has writings in the Koran, and many other religions speak against same-sex attraction – even if they do not forbid it.

BSA is NOT a religious organization; however it is a private organization and privately funded through donations and membership dues.  It has a nationally recognized non-profit status and until recently, its membership requirements have not been questioned. 

By asking the BSA to change its membership requirements to fit the current society is not only wrong but selfish.  There are many organizations available to youth that have many of the benefits of the scouting program.  Watering down any organization to make it a one-size fits all program lessens the effectiveness of the program as a whole.

The purpose of the BSA program is to turn boys into men.  It’s not to tell them whom to love or marry or even which religion to choose. It’s not about getting straight A’s or being a mechanic or a missionary.  The program helps boys learn to be leaders and give them a comfort level with many activities and experiences they might not otherwise be able to participate in.  Learning to play marbles or shoot BB guns or use a knife safely; planning a healthy meal and perform first aid and show community and civic pride. 

None of these programs specifically tell anyone they can’t love who they want; but when it comes to the part about staying morally straight and being reverent it’s difficult for me to imagine how anyone who isn’t living according to some scriptural principle could consider themselves reverent or moral by directly disobeying specifically mentioned restrictions in a holy book; regardless of which holy book it is.

I have friends who feel very strongly that this is a discrimination issue; much like racism or slavery.  If everyone had to join the BSA in order to get into school or college or get a job, I might feel the same.  No one is forcing someone to be a scout or to live in a moral fashion.  No one is deeming which religion is right and wrong.  You’re not forbidden from drinking from a specific fountain or attending school if you’re not a scout.

In fact, unless you’re wearing your uniform or a BSA insignia, no one would know you were a scout unless you told them. You’re not required to wear a star on your coat or a caste mark on your forehead to signify your membership.  No one denies you from entering college or applying for a scholarship based on your BSA membership status.

Joining a private organization is a choice.  If you don’t like the rules, don’t join.  If you don’t want a milkshake, don’t get one.  Don’t like cars?  Ride a bike.  Hate credit cards?  Pay cash.  Don’t require everyone to follow your choices.  No one is making anyone be a Cub or a Boy Scout.  You can choose not to wear the shirt and say the oath and follow the motto.  But if you choose to join the ranks, then you’d better agree with the viewpoints of the organization instead of changing them to fit your needs.

My recommendation is that if you don’t like the game; walk away and start your own game somewhere else.  Develop your own program that includes the rules and values that you support.  Order your coffee without whip cream or with organic, free-trade beans.  But don’t make everyone else follow your values just because you feel left out or guilty or convicted.

Gifts

I used to be good at giving gifts.  I loved to think of things that people would enjoy and take pleasure in the process of planning, buying and wrapping the gifts.  I took joy in finding things that gave others pleasure.  I used to be really good at it.

Now, buying and planning for gifts are just one more thing to do; one more item to check off a list; another problem to be stressed over and solved; something else to take up my time; a possibly futile endeavor that will drain my already waning energy and motivation and time.

In other words, I suck at it now.  Shopping at holidays and birthdays and celebrations is exhausting and depressing.  Finding that perfect card (or even one that’s kind of appropriate) is torturous.  I used to be able to stand in the card section of the store and LAUGH – usually out-loud – for a long time. 

But NOT giving gifts or cards fills me with guilt.  I should give a gift, I think.  I was never raised with gift-giving being an obligation; giving a gift was a treasure and a gift in and of itself.  Not anymore.

I stand in front of the card aisle and glance over the cards.  No, that one is too dumb, that one too mushy, that one too vague.  And then, I find one that’s great, except it sounds like I should feel, not like I really do actually feel.  And then I’m guilty for being phony.  Cards no longer make me laugh; they make me cringe or roll my eyes or shudder – and no, not just the Justin Beiber cards.

Gifts?  What I’d like to give are too expensive or too large or just too…too.  What if they don’t like it (that thought never used to cross my mind)?  What if they have to return it?  What if they’re allergic or they think it’s ugly?  What if????

And I’ve developed this guilt in receiving gifts too.  I call it baggage from my mother, although that’s not entirely fair as she’s been dead for several years, and following my own advice, I should be able to GET OVER IT!  I spend vast amounts of time and energy trying to decipher why anyone would give me a gift.  What do they expect in return?  Am I now required to give them gifts too?  What if I have to someday get rid of the gift?  Or it breaks?  Or…

Sigh…

Random thought:  How did we begin using the words “used to” to signify past tense of once was?  I mean, “used” means no longer new…however, upon more research it’s actually a form of speech that is correct.  

More Random thoughts...

More random thoughts that cross my mind at awkward times...

If requiring ID to vote is a “Poll Tax” because it disenfranchises the poor, then how do the poor identify themselves for their state benefits?  Don’t they have to (occasionally) prove they are who they say they are?  How will they identify themselves at Emergency rooms or clinics or doctors’ offices for medical treatment?

If someone is too poor to be able to get to a place to purchase an ID, aren’t they also too poor to be able to get to a place to vote?

I don’t suppose it will be too long before I can’t say words like “Indian Summer” and “Mexican Mocha” without being called racist.

How is it racial profiling to pull someone over because they broke the law and have non-white skin, but it’s not racial profiling to ask someone what nationality they are for federal and state reports?

I still find it odd that school choice is bad, but reproductive choice is not.

Why do we need Planned Parenthood to be funded by the government if the Affordable Healthcare Act will provide health coverage for all?

How is it that Birth control is considered health care? 

I am constantly amazed that people get in a fluff over Internet privacy.  If you post it on the Internet do you REALLY have the expectation of privacy? 

Deleting someone as a friend on FB or blocking them from your newsfeed may not be mature, but sometimes it’s the best way to solve an electronic relationship issue.  And dang, but it feels good!

Frankly, I think we fell over the “fiscal cliff” several years ago.  Personally, we make roughly half again as much as we made 10 years ago, but are further behind than we were 20 years ago.  As a country, I don’t think we’re any better off, either.

Marriage certificates and the Constitution are just pieces of paper unless they’re enforced.  Laws are the same way.  We don’t need more rules and laws; we need people who are willing to stand up and enforce the ones we already have and punish people that break those laws and rules.

What is the mentality behind forcing private clubs and organizations to accept membership of everyone?  Why would an atheist want to be a member of a Christian (or Jewish or catholic or Muslim) club?  If you don’t follow the beliefs of a group, why would you want to be a member in the first place?

If you don’t agree with guns, then don’t buy one.  If you don’t believe in God, then don’t go to church or pray or read the Bible.  If you don’t like my child wearing a cross on a necklace, then don’t look at the necklace. 

I live in a country I no longer recognize.  Sex used to be private and not discussed.  Marriage was between a man and a woman.  The bad guys always wore black hats.  Swear words weren’t used as adjectives in day to day conversation.  School was where you learned the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic; not how to use a condom.  

Questions for my favorite author

Let’s just fantasize for a moment that I get a chance to have lunch (or dinner or drinks) with my favorite author, Nicholas Sparks.  Yes, he can bring his wife.  Maybe he’ll invite me to their house and I can meet the kids and dogs too!

1. I’ve read that you write at least 2,000 words each day.  When you started out did you ever sleep or did you have a lower goal for your per day completion?
2. What is the average time it takes you to write a book?  Are some harder than others?
3. How do you overcome character challenges? 
4. What about when your characters change their story mid-plot? 
5. What was the most difficult book?  Why?
6. Your favorite book you’ve written?
7. Your favorite book by another author?
8. What was the easiest book to write?  Why?
9. Is there a book that you’d like to rewrite?
10. What did you spend your first large royalty check on?
11. How do you research for your books?

What questions would you ask your favorite author?

A Friend

One of the problems of having a blog that people read is that I need to be aware of my audience.  It’s never my intent to purposefully hurt someone – I’m completely capable of telling someone to their face if I’m unhappy with them if it’s a big enough deal that I need to create the conflict.  So, it’s a pretty safe bet that if I’m unhappy with someone, that someone already knows about it.  (Okay, I’ll admit that Lance Armstrong has no IDEA what a putz I think he is but I don’t think he cares.)

I’m no stranger to conflict; I’ve often joked that even when I try to avoid it conflict finds me easily and without much of a search party.  But as good as I am at talking the talk; I really don’t enjoy conflict and dust-ups and losing friends.

The last few years I’ve had three major people in my life make me reconsider my attitude about friendship.  Each of these people has, in some way, been dishonest or un-trustworthy with me or how they’ve dealt with a situation where I’ve been involved.  And each one of them has had several chances to correct the situation and regain my trust.  And each one of them blew it multiple times and I WALKED AWAY.

When I was a little girl, someone once told me how to remember to spell FRIEND correctly:  “A Friend is a Friend to the e.n.d.”    If only that were true as far as the actual friendship went.

I expect that my friends will be my friends forever; and it hurts me tremendously when I lose a friend.  I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what I did or how I could have saved the relationship; but I think that some relationships are just not meant to be long term.  And, some will withstand the test of time (and Facebook).

I will not be lied to.  I will not allow or be party to someone who can’t represent the truth.  I will not stand quietly by when someone is dishonest or has motives that are selfish and manipulative.  And, if you are reading this and you think it’s about you, well, maybe it is.  But again, you’ll already know where we stand by this point because I’ve offered an olive branch, tried to work it out and spent countless hours trying to mediate or fix the situation and repair the friendship.

 

You can also be pretty sure that you’re in my prayers and that I think of you no matter how long it’s been since we’ve ‘broken up’.  Sometimes the thoughts aren’t as painful anymore and sometimes I just want to scream because it’s just not how I wanted things to end.

And, apparently, God isn’t through teaching me about relationships and how I can be better at them because He tells me every day that HE loves me and that even if I lost every human friend I ever had, HE would still be there.

It’s a good thing we can grow and change and that some of our friends will grow and change with us; and it’s sad that some people just can’t be honest about themselves or others and deal with the consequences.