Ramblings of a (Recovering) Malcontent

Invictus

2011-10-29T21:58:00.000-07:00

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

I am finally watching the movie Invictus. It is long overdue, but I rarely get opportunity for movies. This movie was worth watching just to see this poem.

I wish I had heard it earlier in life, although this has been my mantra without ever having heard it. Words are powerful, and I have been influenced by other words that have gotten me through difficult times.

I am no Nelson Mandela, nor do I compare my life to his, but we each have our struggles, and words can lift us, or drown us. Wherever we find them, how they touch us, may be different for everyone, but we are all influenced in some way by the words we hear.

I hope you find words that can lift you. Words to live by.

Vision

2011-10-25T10:28:00.000-07:00

Imagine
Freedom
Learn
Wealth
See
Enjoy
Respect
Story
Feel
Do
Create

Food Allergies

2011-09-03T20:49:00.000-07:00

In July, I did a cleanse. It was a three-week program based on the book Clean by Dr. Alejandro Junger.

It's a gentle cleanse, which is why it was three weeks instead of one. It is designed to eliminate all allergen possible foods, and simplify the diet to give the body time to detox while still providing enough nutrients and sustenance to operate on a daily basis without feeling completely depleted.

I've tried other cleansing diets in the past, most with the intention of losing weight more than detox. This was the first time I just wanted to feel good for a while.

It was enlightening. Some of the other diets I've tried have shown me that I do have sensitivity to certain foods. This one completely eliminated them all, and allowed me time to experience what my body feels and looks like when it is isn't reacting.

My problem is that there are some foods I have a stronger reaction to than others, and some that I can't really identify. Most of the reactions are mild, generally bloating, mild discomfort, or gas. Some come with a more intense pain, along with those other symptoms.

And that's the thing. What the difference between an allergy and being sensitive or having reactions? Is it just a milder allergy? Or is it something less? "Allergy" seems to be a wildly overused term.

The one thing I have identified for sure is that I am sensitive to gluten. Gluten can cause intense pain now that I've been avoiding it for a while. It can feel like I've eaten ground glass in some cases. And I feel that pain through the entire passage through my body.

Sweets give me migraines, but since I don't have much of a sweet tooth, that is much easier to avoid.

I also seem to be sensitive to dairy. At least, I get bloating, gas, mild discomfort from it. I thought for a minute that I might be able to substitute goat's milk or sheep's milk cheese for the real thing, but I think that might not agree with me either. There are some very tasty goat and sheep's milk alternatives. And they are plentiful in my area. I'll have to try this experiment again and see if the reaction is to one or the other or both.

And therein lies my problem. If I eat "clean" for a few days, I feel amazing. By clean, I mean fish or poultry, veggies, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, fruit. That's about the extent of it. Then I add in something and see if I get a reaction. If I do, it is almost immediate, so it's easy to tell. The problem is it then takes at least two days of eating clean to get it out of my system and back to feeling right. Therefore, the process of finding out these foods is tedious and long.

Besides the fact that I sometimes just eat whatever because I want to (like today). Or when I am trying to eat well, and don't pay attention to ingredients. This happens most often when eating out. I order sautéed fish or chicken, and although it's described as not being "breaded" they do still coat it with flour before sautéing. Those kinds of things slip me up.

I find it easier to eat well when I'm home and surrounded by good foods. It is harder when out. I love to eat. I will gladly choose a healthier option when given the choice, but it gets tricky when everything on the menu has something in it that I know is going to bother me. I'm much more inclined to just forget it and eat whatever.

I'm still in the learning process, and it is getting easier to recognize with practice, but this is difficult!

An assignment to write my eulogy...

2011-07-31T08:07:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends, I want to tell you how I lived an extraordinary life, and became a person that could hold her head high.

You see, my story didn’t start strong, although I did have advantages. I was born into a large family with an abusive parent. Although she used whatever methods she could, her strongest was her wit. She left no opportunity to cut and demoralize untouched.

However, I had her same wit, and decided early that I wouldn’t let her words touch me. Yes, it was a journey, but anything worth doing is a process that takes time.

I learned, over time, to listen to my own inner voice to decide what was truth.

With age came conviction, and values, and even a little wisdom. I wasted a lot of time in depression, but with each recovery I was stronger.

I have learned that I am strong, and that strength is not common. I have learned to lend my strength to protect and nurture those I love in whatever ways necessary.

I have learned that loyalty and friendship was a skill that must be learned. These were traits that were important to me, and I can say with conviction that I am a loyal friend, loyal to a fault at times. Those that I love can count on me for anything. I would gladly risk my very self for the ones that have earned my loyalty.

I have learned that love is a decision. Emotions come and go, and are as fleeting as the breeze. But once a decision is made it can withstand a hurricane if conviction lies behind the decision.

I have learned that decisions are hard, but that I can make sound decisions with knowledge, information, and logic. If my information is faulty when the decision was made, then I cannot regret the decision because it was made with the best information I had at the time. In this way I can stand strong in my decisions, but be flexible enough to change them, if new information convinces me otherwise.

I have learned that all that I have is my word, and to treat it as an unbreakable bond. If my word cannot be trusted, I have nothing.

I have learned that money is power, and with money come options. Money in and of itself is merely a tool and not inherently evil. The choices made in the pursuit of money and power may be evil, however, the pursuit itself is not. I have learned that I do have a line I am not willing to cross, and I have learned that I am content with my ambition.

I have learned that I can get by with nothing, but I prefer not to.

I have learned that I am happiest when I feel worthwhile, and that I feel worthwhile when I am using my skills and my brain to their fullest capacity.

I have learned that I do not want to go through life carefully, saving up for later. I would rather come to the end of my life fully used up and without regret. I have learned that living for the future or dwelling in the past means only that I’m missing the present, and the present is all I really have.

I have tried everything at least once. I have loved and lost. I have friends that would do more for me than I could ever ask, and more of them than I ever thought possible for someone like me. I have lived honestly and without regret.

I have achieved more than I thought possible and less than I could have, which only serves to keep me striving and to not fall into complacency.

I have nothing outwardly to show for my life, but I have grown into a strong, ambitious, confident woman who can enjoy the moment.

I am proud of my strength. I am proud of my honesty, although it is not always perfect. I am proud of my self-sufficiency, although I am learning to allow help when it is needed. I am proud of the ambition that keeps me pushing myself to learn new skills and find ways to use them. I am proud of the fact that I would willingly lay down my life for a friend, and thus I have learned love.

Recovering Malcontent

2011-07-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

I visited my poor lonely blog tonight, considered writing about my trip to New York, and ended up reading the caption under the title.

"My blog started as a means to vent about all the things that annoy me, or about which I was "malcontent". However, sometime during the process, I decided that I would be better served by taking a more positive outlook, and looking for ways I could make change to create positive results. Thus, I am in recovery."

I guess the recovery worked, and I find myself content. Unfortunately, content means fewer circumstances that rile me, and thus fewer rants, which leads to less writing. So much for blogging.

I could turn my blog into a journal, but I was never fond of journalling. There is too much pressure in it. I know that a journal, faithfully kept, gives a clarifying depiction of events when reviewed through the lens of time. However, the commitment of time required to actively journal makes me tired before I even begin.

I do try to write about notable events. And my trip to New York does bear chronicling. Hopefully I'll get to it soon, before I forget all of the details. It was a wonderfully fabulous trip, that was a gift from my husband for my 40th birthday. It was definitely a birthday to remember.

It would be cool to write about my transition to healthy eating. It has been a long journey, and I haven't yet reached my goal, but it is shocking to see how far I've come. I never thought I'd ever be anything but a meat & potatoes kind of eater. It's crazy what a little education will do for a person.

I can't quite say goodbye to my blog, although it is looking a little lonely. I will come back to it....when the time is right. Wait for me.

Parenting

2011-05-31T17:28:00.000-07:00

I've had a few conversations lately with some of my single mom friends about parenting. It can be a lonely, hard, and thankless job being a mom. And yes, I know there are plenty of dads who will think I'm being biased, but unless you're a single dad, with 100% custody, it is unlikely that you are bearing the brunt of schedules, appointments, school activities, discipline, chores, homework, nutrition, medications, laundry, and all the little things that make the day flow.

Granted, I'm not that great at most of that either. I have a network of family and friends that remind me of activities he should do, and an alarm on my phone that tells me when to pick him up from school because otherwise I'd forget. I have a son that's been doing his own laundry since he was tall enough to reach into the washing machine, as well as getting up and making his own breakfast since he was tall enough to reach up to the counter.

I also have a husband who agrees with me on how and when to discipline and what behaviors require discipline. He will also show up to school things when I tell him about them, and takes on his share of the transporting, work permitting.

With that said, the bulk of the parenting inevitably falls on the mom.

For me, that means always being the bad guy. While working full time, it also means I don't have much time to do any of the fun stuff.

My son regularly tells me (and anyone else that will listen) that I yell at him all the time, or he complains about how he never gets to do anything, or how I'm always making him do things he doesn't want to do. I get the "I hate you" comments, and "you're mean," and all the other usual comments little boys say when they are angry. I'm ok with that.

I listen to people telling me I'm too hard on him, or that I expect too much and he's just a kid, or that I'm a terrible parent because I don't hover over him every moment of the day. I sometimes even feel guilty that I don't hang out with him and do all the fun things he'd love to do.

But mostly I'm ok with how things are. He's a lucky boy to have two parents, a huge house in a great neighborhood, parents that can afford to put him on a swim team (even if it is a rec league), Taekwondo, as well as tennis and piano lessons after school. He has parents that care enough to put him in a school that suits him, rather than the much easier option of the school on the corner. And every now and then, I take him on vacations that he enjoys immensely. He has grandparents and aunts and uncles that spoil him and love him and do the "fun stuff" with him.

I'm ok with being the bad guy, because I know that I'm doing the right thing for him. I expect a lot from him, but only by the standards of today's parents that seem to expect nothing. I expect him to be polite, respectful, responsible, and capable. Kids apparently don't come that way; they need to be taught. I'm perfectly ok with being the one responsible for teaching him because I signed up for that when I agreed to have a child.

I can take him on vacation with other people and not be embarrassed by his behavior. I can let him go over to another person's house and not be afraid of what he will do, or how he will act. I'm not saying he's a perfect child all the time, but he's acting eight, which is completely appropriate. Overall, he's a good kid.

And I tell him so. This weekend we went to Santa Cruz, and while digging in the sand yesterday morning, I told him again. He's a good kid and he's fun to be around. And he replied, "I wouldn't be without you." I smiled, and said it was nice of him to say so, and he insisted, "No, really."

I'm ok being the bad guy; my son respects me and thanks me for it. :-)

What might have been...

2011-04-27T10:31:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a week-long road trip through Utah. I know.. Utah? But apparently they have quite a collection of astounding National Parks, and I took my son to see them over spring break.

It was very fun. My sister and her husband were with us, and they borrowed a trailer we could all share, and we hit the road. It was my first time camping since I was a kid, and I was excited to show my son, now that he's old enough to appreciate it, some of the beauty of this country. I also was looking forward to getting him outside for extended lengths of time.

We live in the suburbs, which means the houses on our street are lined up like boxes on a shelf, with tiny backyards, and postage stamp sized lawns. There is nothing for him to do outside, except ride his bike on the street. I really wanted him to see what a pleasure it is to be outdoors.

We drove for a 15-16 hours to get to Zion National Park, in south-western Utah. We set up the trailer, made dinner, and went to bed. He discovered a playground and a bunch of kids in this campground, so he was out and playing the whole time. The next morning, while we were getting ready to head into the park was the same. We jumped on the incredibly awesome shuttle system to go into the park, and then hiked 3 trails, a total of around 10 miles, which took all day! When we got back to the campground, he still had energy to go out and run around the campground with the kids, while I prepared dinner!

The next morning we got up, closed up camp, and drove to Bryce National Park. This was a relatively short drive, and we had time to stop on the way at Escalante State Park and check out the largest collection of petrified wood that I've ever seen. This only required a hike of almost 2 miles! My son, who is an avid rock collector, was quite taken with the myriad of "rocks" with so many beautiful colors. He was disappointed not to be able to bring any home.

Bryce was as impressive, although much smaller and higher in elevation, as Zion. It was over 9100 feet at the topmost viewing area, and still had quite a bit of snow on the ground. The park was set up to be able to see most of what the park offered from viewing spots along the road, and we did all of that on the first day, planning to hike the following morning. Only one trail was open, due to snow and mud, and that took barely any time. We spent some time in the visitor's center, and then drove to the next.

Capital Reef was an equally small park, with one long hike through towering rocks which was a wash for flash flooding during the rains, and a shorter hike to see some petroglyphs. This was easily done in a day, and we drove on to the final camping grounds near Arches National Park.

Arches was just that. A myriad of interesting arches carved out of the sandstone in various shapes and sizes. We hiked for 5 miles here, but got to see all of the famous arches that this park boasted.

We had originally planned another day in this area to see Canyonlands National Park, but work schedules and a week-long Jeep convention in Moab restricted our ability to stay another night. We could have seen some of it after Arches, since we had seen all we could by mid-afternoon, but I was gritty from sandstorms, tired, and desperately wanted a shower. We ended up visiting Moab, then heading back for dinner and showers.

The next morning we broke camp again to drive across the state of Utah. We had basically gone diagonally from the bottom left, to the top right (under the L) of the state, so now needed to drive the entire length to get back to Nevada and our final stop.

We arrived at Great Basin National Park, just past the state line in Nevada, mid-afternoon... just in time to set up the trailer and head down for the cave tour being offered at 3:30. This is what the park is known for, apparently, and the only thing open due to snow. The caves were quite impressive, and unlike any others that I've visited. This was my son's first cave experience, and he loved it as much as I did.

This was definitely the most primitive of the campsites we had visited. There were no hook-ups, so we had no water, except what was in our tanks, or electricity. There was no free wi-fi and no cell service! This was definitely as out of touch as you could possibly get. It was very weird, and I was glad to be leaving in the morning!

But next morning, we woke up to almost 3" of snow on the trailer, and still falling! It was beautiful for sure, and luckily I had expected rain at some point in our trip, so had all of my rain gear to keep me dry, but I was definitely interested in getting out there and clearing off the snow so we could get off the mountain before we got snowed in.

Getting the snow off involved climbing up a picnic table that we turned on it's side longwise so I could climb onto the top of the trailer in order to sweep the snow off of the pull-out so we could retract it. I was very thankful for the gore-tex rain pants! We got the snow off and the trailer hooked up without incident and were on the road by 9am. Thankfully, the snow was only at the higher elevations and the roads were clear.

We drove all the way across Nevada on Highway 50. What a long, desolate road! We got into Reno around 5 pm, with plenty of time to stop for dinner and shop in Cabela's for all the outdoor wear we could possibly never need.

Passing through Reno was very nostalgic for me. It has changed a lot in the almost 20 years since I left it. I lived there for a year when I moved there with the company I worked for out of high school. I couldn't help but wonder what my life would be like had I stayed there and hadn't been in such a hurry to get back to California.

Granted, I hated it there. Reno was a definite pit, and we spent every weekend in California with family. But I had a really good job, that I enjoyed and where I was respected. I wonder where I could have gone with my career had I stayed. The University of Reno is a very good school, and I went there for a semester during my short stint in Nevada.

I'm not usually given to what if's... and I would definitely have been miserable for a long time. But I wonder if I would have had more success in my career if I had stayed with that company. You never can tell, but it's hard not to wonder.

Mortgage Crisis

2011-02-01T11:39:00.000-08:00

The mortgage crisis has been going on for some time now, and it seems to be getting easier and easier for those inconvenienced by a mortgage payment to get out of it. I've watched the value of my home plummet, while heaving a sigh of relief that at least we're not upside down. Most of that is because I've been throwing every spare dime at the loan in order to keep it in the black.

Only now I realize that that very attitude has screwed me.

Did you know that the powers that be have changed the rules so that a short-sale only stays on your credit report for 2 years? A foreclosure for 5? Did you know that if you are 30 days late on a payment of any kind, it will stay on your credit report for 7 years, but if you walk away from the largest debt you could possibly have, then that's washed away as if it never happened in 2-5 years? Really?? What is wrong with this country?

And why am I still making my mortgage payments? I've been trying to get a better interest rate on my loan for over a year. I bought my house before the rules changed to make it easier for people to get loans they couldn't afford. As a result, my interest rate is much higher than it should be.

The government is kindly dropping the interest rates on mortgages for people who can't pay their mortgages, or who simply bought more than they could afford. They are even cutting the amount that is owed considerably to make it less onerous for people to pay what they agreed to pay when they bought their homes.

But I can't get my loan refinanced because I'm not upside down, but I owe more than 95% of the current value. My loan is a conventional loan that was not financed by the government, and therefore cannot be easily changed. And to top it off, I've been making my payments on time, and therefore the banks have no interest in cutting or reducing their profit from someone who is obviously dumb enough to keep giving them money.

I find it equally disturbing that we live in a society that seems to be more than willing to support a government that exists only to prop up big business and the rich people, and reward a lazy, unethical, illiterate population with handouts at the expense of the steady, honorable, responsible citizenry.

I guess that's fine if you fall into either category getting the government bailouts. And it seems that the responsible citizenry seems to be shrinking in number so as to make their voices immaterial anyway. It doesn't help that they still cling to a code of honor that assumes that justice will prevail and "those" will get what they deserve in the long run.

It sickens me that in order to get the banks to do the right thing, I have to consider NOT making my payments. How is that at all reasonable? I know that there's a hell of a lot that I could do with a year's worth of mortgage payments if I were willing to walk away from this house.

New Year

2011-01-20T08:53:00.000-08:00

It's the start of a new year. I've never really marked New Year's as a new beginning until recently. Now it seems like an easy enough date to measure goals by.

Last year I set some financial goals for myself. I'd have to go back and look at the post to see what other goals I'd set for 2010. I know I did do fairly well with my finances, and would have done better except for a setback from another stupid decision I made a few years back trying to help out a family member.

I took on a couple of side jobs at the end of last year which will hopefully help me towards my goal of buying a rental property. I've wanted to do this for over a decade, but somehow the money for a down payment has not fallen out of the sky for me. So I've done something about it and am actually setting aside the money from my side jobs for this purpose. Hopefully I can reach this goal by the end of next year. Hopefully the real estate market won't have rebounded so much as to make it out of reach!

My own business seems to be faltering. I have lost almost every kid I've added this year, which is NOT good for business! I am laying off my assistant next month, which may be a blessing in disguise. Her work ethic has really fallen since she had her baby, and it's been difficult having to supervise at all times to make sure she is doing her job.

I've also decided not to have her work just because I know she needs the income when I don't actually need to have her here. It costs me too much, without the income to support it, to fund her family. The Bank of Reina is closed!

My side jobs have also kept me pretty busy since November. Things are lightening up a little but I have my own year-end tax stuff yet to do, as well as the year-end tax filing for my husband's new side business. That one should be easy as he and his business partner just started the business late last year and there hasn't been much activity. My own will take a while. It generally takes me two weeks of straight work to get everything together and recorded. Usually I'm done by now, but I haven't even started! I did get my filing up to date yesterday, which means at least all my receipts are together.

I do enjoy being busy, it seems. And since finishing school in the middle of last year, it's only natural to have added a few jobs to fill in the time!

I need to spend some time this year on getting my website updated as well as the resource website presentable. It's disappointing that every time I actually hire someone to do something for me, it rarely turns out well. I need to give it some time and effort to make it match my vision.

We shall see. This year is shaping up to be just as full as last year! We'll see how I do.

Speeding Ticket

2010-12-11T19:41:00.000-08:00

I got another speeding ticket today. This is my third in two years. I guess my luck has run out. I don't know how I went for 20 years without one, and now I get three in such a short time. My insurance carrier is going to have a conniption. Or maybe that will just be me when I get the next insurance bill.

How is it that I never get off once I've been pulled over? What do these people do that get off with a warning? I obviously need lessons.

I guess it's time for me to slow down and drive like an old lady. It sure is going to take the fun out of driving!

Christmas Sadness

2010-12-07T16:16:00.000-08:00

It's the seventh of December, and for the first time this year I listened to Christmas music in my car. It was an accident. I was switching through channels and landed on one that was all Christmas. There once was a time when I could barely wait for Thanksgiving to be over so I could start playing my Christmas music. I loved Christmas music.

Every year Christmas gets harder and harder. I just don't have the energy to be jolly. Just thinking of the work involved in decorating, and then taking down the decorations, makes me want to crawl into a hole and stay there until spring.

But I feel bad for my son. I know I am shortchanging him yet again. This year, he decorated the tree and the house, pretty much on his own. I put on Christmas music for him while he did the work, because he asked for it. My husband and I put the lights on the house because that seemed important to him, and I denied him that last year.

My husband's interest in Christmas seems to be limited to the giving and receiving of gifts, so it doesn't seem worth my time and energy to get excited about the season. I know I should for my son. I know I should...

Every year the joy of Christmas dims just a little more. After last year, I hoped to avoid it altogether this year by booking a trip to Disneyland for Christmas. If I can't get excited about Christmas in Disneyland, I really am hopeless.

Hearing the music today, I felt so sad for my son. He definitely deserves better.

The Lovely Bones

2010-12-03T07:20:00.000-08:00

There is a scene in The Lovely Bones (the book, I didn't see the movie) where the dead girl watches her mother make out with the homicide detective assigned to her case. The dead girl had been the oldest and was 12 when she was murdered. Watching her mother she realizes something that she had vaguely felt when she was living; that being a mother was a mask her mother put on when the first child woke up in the morning.

She knew her mother had been keeping time until the kids where grown and she could start her own life. When her mother unexpectedly got pregnant again when the girls were half grown, it was like getting punched in the stomach. She watched her mother deflate, and resign herself to THIS life.

About a year after her daughter's murder, tired of being the "dead girl's" mother, she ran away and started a new life, an anonymous life, somewhere else where she only had to take care of herself. Where she was just Ruth, and not Carl's wife, or Laura's mother. (All those names are made up because I can't remember the names in the book!)

I know there are plenty of people who would condemn her for that. Who would think it was utterly selfish and she had no right to leave her family like that.

But I wonder how many women have watched their lives slip away like water while they are being a mother because it was expected of them. It was just what you do because you're a woman, and your life can't be complete without it. I wonder how many women wish they could run away, but are duty-bound to be the mom, the wife, the caretaker. I wonder how many women strain against the routine of getting them up, getting them dressed, making their breakfast, making their lunch, getting them to school, cleaning the house, doing the grocery shopping, picking them up from school, making their snack, helping with homework, making dinner, getting them bathed, reading the bedtime story, putting them to bed, cleaning up from dinner, falling into bed. Rinse and repeat. Who dare not complain, or speak her dreams aloud for fear of being thought of as a bad mom, or ungrateful.

Granted, this book was set 40 years ago, and there are hopefully fewer instances now. Although for some, I'm sure there is most of that squeezed around a full-time job.

And yes, I know there are many women who are fulfilled by motherhood, that WOULDN'T be complete without that experience. Who have waited all their lives for that moment of giving birth to that helpless little being who depends completely on her and is hers to shape and love. Those women have the special gift of sacrifice that comes with devoting their life to the nurturing of little ones. These are special and necessary, and god bless them.

I'm not talking about them.

I'm just wondering how prevalent the feeling is. I was surprised to see it in the book. I was surprised that anyone would admit those feelings exist, even in a fiction novel.

Mother

2010-09-26T16:20:00.000-07:00

I quit my mother a long time ago. I was already an adult, so it wasn't anything traumatic. Although, had I been able to as a child, I would have.

I quit her because I didn't like the person she was. She was manipulative, mean, deceptive, and a hypocrite. Instead of taking responsibility for her life and the choices she made, she cried about it and blamed everyone else for the way her life turned out.

I know that hypocrisy seems to be an acceptable evil, but it isn't for me. I can't think of anything more infuriating and appalling than witnessing a person that acts completely contrary to their nature when in public. The constant lie gets old. Maybe that's where my intolerance of lies comes from. Who knows.

I quit her because I have no need of people like that in my life.

It's been 21 years since I've spoken to my mother. I don't miss her at all. I miss having a mother, but I don't miss the one I was given. Many times I've hoped and wished for parents that I could inherit as an adult that would fill that role for me. I came close in my last relationship.

However, it seems that now I am faced with the same situation again. I am having difficulty with alienating this person completely, for fear of hurting my family, but I can't lie, and I can't justify making an exception for this person that I would never make for my own mother.

They are the same in many ways, and I am having difficulty accepting that. When I quit my mother I thought I was done dealing with dishonesty. I can only hope I make the right choice for my son. He is the only reason I am struggling with this at all.

Summer Camp

2010-08-15T10:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we picked our son up from summer camp.

I'd been thinking about sending him to summer camp since last summer. This winter, I finally did the research to find one, and found two that I really liked. The first was north of us, near Redding, and had a minimum stay of 2 weeks. With a minimum age of eight. He would turn 8 at the beginning of the summer, so technically he would qualify, but I wondered if two weeks would be too long.

I talked to him about it, and asked if he'd be interested in going to camp, explaining the kinds of things that he would do there. He was excited about the idea. I asked him if he could handle two weeks, and he thought he could. However, when I presented the idea to my husband, he was definitely not ok with a two week stay at this age! So I went back to the internet and found the second camp that I liked.

This one was much closer (up near Lake Tahoe), and had one-week sessions. We ordered the dvd, and I checked out the website. My son was super excited. I told him he would have to forego his birthday party (every other year I allow him to have a party in a rented facility, but that can be expensive), and ask his family members to please contribute to the cost of camp rather than giving him any gifts. All very large sacrifices, I thought, for a 7-year-old to consider.

He happily agreed, but I wondered if it would last when his birthday actually came around. His birthday is the beginning of July, and camp wasn't until the second week of August, so I was worried that when the actual birthdate came around, he'd forget the deal and want gifts too.

I told him that he could invite friends over to swim with him to celebrate his birthday, and he was completely satisfied with that. I was careful NOT to call it a pool party, just inviting his friends informally, without written invitations, explaining to the guests that it was an informal get-together, and that he wasn't actually having a party because he chose to use that money for camp.

He had a great time, was grateful for the gifts that he got from his friends, and didn't regret his decision at all. I was very proud of him.

Finally, camp week approached. We needed to drop him off Sunday afternoon, and by Friday he was starting to get nervous. I'm not sure how much of that was from reading his dad's nervousness, though.

We drove in and parked, and between the car and the registration table, his dad asked him if he was nervous at least a couple times! We got him checked in, met his counselor, and checked out his cabin. He selected a bunk, made the bed, and found a spot for his suitcase. Then we went out to check out the cool things they had near the cabin; basketball court, ping-pong tables, foosball tables, etc.

He met his bunkmate, and started off with him to explore, so we said our goodbyes and left.

All the drive home my husband was worried about him. Which started me wondering if he was going to be ok. Even though I know he's incredibly capable of making friends and having fun in the moment, I was worried about him getting scared. I didn't let him take his security blanket with him. I didn't want him to be laughed at by the other kids.

I didn't hear anything from them all week, so I hoped he was having a good time. We picked him up yesterday morning, and he was grinning and filthy! Both good signs! His first words were "I want to come back next year!"

He apparently made a good impression on the counselors, because a couple of counselors at the checkout table had nothing but great things to say about him. We got him to describe some of the things he got to do, even though he's never been great at retelling his experiences.

The only downer was that I didn't trust him with the knowledge that I had left money for him at the camp store. I instructed his counselor to let him know if there was anything he needed he could get it, but I didn't want him to think it was a free-for-all at the store. In hindsight, I'm surprised at myself. I've always trusted him fully with his choices, and let the natural consequences speak for themselves if he chose badly. I don't know why I withheld that information from him. His counselor failed to let him know, and as a consequence, he didn't know he could buy new batteries for his flashlight. He had a few bad nights of being scared of the dark (after he kindly gave his replacement batteries to another boy who needed them). The realization that it could have been different brought him instantly to tears, and it took a while to calm him down.

However, he's already talking about next time, so I guess he had a great time! In true Avery fashion, he is already considering whether he wants to forego another birthday party to go to camp, or wait an extra year so he can have the Chuck-E-Cheese party he's been thinking about all year! I guess I'm doing something right!

Exercise

2010-06-29T15:36:00.000-07:00

Last summer I wrote about the personal trainer friend I had that came and worked with me 2-3 times per week. I think I was pretty optimistic about losing weight, getting in shape, and feeling good.

I have to admit that in hindsight, he was pretty successful. I could see a difference in my muscle tone, although not a lot of difference on the scale or in my fat content. Overall, I felt better. Although every day he was scheduled to come I would try to find an excuse to cancel. I never did get used to it, nor did I ever get to a point where I enjoyed it, although I've heard that that utopia exists for some.

This winter I've gained even more weight. My obsession with what I can and can't eat seems to be a contributing factor, but it is also a function of depression and lack of focus.

I've been doing the tae kwon do for a year now (can you believe it's been that long!), and although I've noticed muscles moving around, it doesn't seem to have helped with weight loss. I don't think I've given it the amount of force and time to really work.

So I signed up for an exercise boot camp for the month of July. I'm scared to death, but I'm determined to do whatever I need to to lose these extra pounds. I want to feel good, have more energy, and be less depressed. I know exercise is a key to all of those, so I'm going to see how it goes. I know it's going to kick my ass, and I don't intend to let go of the tae kwon do, either. I'm not sure how I'm going to manage it all, but hopefully by the end of July I will look and feel amazing! We'll see!

The Tooth Fairy

2010-06-24T22:18:00.000-07:00

My son lost his fifth tooth on Sunday. He's almost eight, so he got a late start with losing teeth, but for all of that, he has sure given the tooth fairy the run around.

The first tooth he lost by punching himself in the mouth at Tae Kwon Do, and swallowed it. His grandma helped him write a note to the tooth fairy explaining why his tooth wasn't actually under his pillow.

The second he lost easily enough, but then wanted to take it to school for show and tell, so after placing it in a baggie, misplacing it for some days, finding it, misplacing it again, finding it, then taking it to school, it finally found it's way under his pillow weeks later.

The third he lost, as in, it fell out but he couldn't find it. I don't know that he even noticed it coming out. He works hard at avoiding any pain or unpleasantness, so he has a habit of waiting until the tooth falls out completely on its own. He didn't even bother with the tooth fairy. I don't think he remembered.

The fourth came out, and was immediately put under the pillow.

This one... it had been a long time since his last tooth. It was loose for months. I think he finally got tired of working around it when he ate, so he finally pulled it out on Sunday night. He very excitedly put it under his pillow.

However, the tooth fairy was a little out of practice, and completely forgot to stop by. Neither did she realize it until he made a comment the next day about her not having come. Oops.

The following night... same story. After the second night, he was pretty confused and disappointed that she hadn't come. But ever the optimist, on the third night he said "I hope she comes tonight!" Just to make sure I didn't forget this time, I slipped it out from under his pillow while singing him to sleep. While I was waiting to make sure he was fully asleep before slipping it back in, he walked out of his room "looking for his flashlight." I asked him why. He needed it to look under his pillow! He was sure he'd put the tooth there...

As smoothly as possible, I palmed the tooth pillow and pretended to search under his bed. I placed it in a slightly hidden place, and asked him to turn on the light. He then joined me and "found" it. I told him to put it back under his pillow and go to bed.

Within a minute he came back out. Apparently, she'd already come and there was extra money inside! He showed me that there was an extra $.50, along with a note from the tooth fairy that said "Because I was late, + .50."

After a minute's hesitation, he asked if he could write her a note. Sure. He asked me to write it for him. He wanted to say, "it's ok. You can keep it." He didn't want her to feel bad about being late on the delivery! He put the extra .50 back in with the note, and then prayed to God to send her back. He explained to me that she wouldn't know to come back, because there was no tooth, but he hoped God could get the message to her.

I think it might take a few days for her to get the message...

Food

2010-06-17T13:46:00.000-07:00

I've been exploring the idea of understanding my body and what makes it feel badly. Last year I paid a lot of money to go to a holistic naturopath. First he did a preliminary body test to check sensitivities, weight, fat %, etc. Then he sent me home with a hormone saliva test, and a strict diet of fruits, vegetables, and nuts, along with a cleansing drink to use three times per day.

Prior to this, my diet consisted of proteins (mostly meat), grains (mostly breads), potatoes, and some fruit. Oh.. and Diet Pepsi. That's it. The diet part was going to be rough. None of those things (except maybe some potatoes and some fruit), no soda, no milk, juice, or any other palatable drink. Strictly water, and this nasty cleansing drink.

But, like I said, I had paid a lot of money, so for 3 months, I did as instructed. I felt completely weak and without energy after 6 weeks, so I added eggs and a small amount of meat to the diet as a source of protein.

I felt really good. I don't think I noticed it right off the bat, but eventually I did. Especially after I completed the 3 months and decided that as healthy as that probably was for my body, I could not live like that long-term. So, I started adding things in, one at a time.

I realized almost immediately that sugar was the source of my migraines. It wasn't until I had a chocolate chip cookie, and had a migraine within 5 minutes that I realized that I hadn't had a single migraine the whole time I had been on the diet. Prior to that, I had been getting them pretty regularly, at least 3-4 times per week.

I did the same thing for other foods, little by little. I realized I am probably lactose intolerant, because milk gives me terrible gas. I think I'm also gluten intolerant because any amount of bread makes me feel bloated, and gives me abdominal pain.

I haven't done any actual tests, although I have found a website that will test for all of those things, along with some others. I think I eventually will, when I can justify the cost. However, even still, knowing what I know, I try to avoid those food types.

But... no dairy, no sugar, no gluten?? What else is there? What am I supposed to eat!?!

And with that, I find it very hard to stick with it. How does one go forever without eating a cheeseburger? And let me tell you, a cheeseburger isn't a cheeseburger without the bun! And besides that, now that I'm constantly thinking of food, what I can and cannot eat, I can't stop eating. Even if it isn't something I shouldn't be eating, the fact that I'm eating constantly is making me gain weight at a considerable rate. None of my clothes fit.

So I have to figure out how to come to terms with this, and come up with food choices that I LIKE, or just accept the fact that I will always feel yucky. Before going on the diet I didn't realize there was any other way to feel, so maybe it's not so bad!

To Be Fulfilled

2010-06-03T15:02:00.000-07:00

"I am fulfilled by my own life on an hourly basis."

That was a quote by Julia Roberts in a magazine article.

I'm not much of a follower of the life and times of movie stars. Honestly, I could care less about movie stars, or musicians, or any other "famous" people. I can't fathom spending the time to follow someone else's life when it's hard enough to keep up with my own.

Well, I take that back. I love to follow the lives of friends and family, and some of the other people whose blogs I read, or try to read, when I have time. I do love seeing what life is like for other "regular" people.

But the quote struck me. That is my goal. To be fulfilled by my own life, every hour of every day. To find the employment opportunity that will perfectly suit my skills and preferences, that will take advantage of the winding path of education and experience I've traveled, and bring it all together into a useful whole. Is it possible? I will continue to search until I have found it. Even if only for a short time, I want to know what it is I was designed to do, and know the joy of doing that.

I know work isn't everything. However, since it fills over 50% of my waking minutes (and sometimes feels like a whole lot more), I think satisfaction in my job does influence overall satisfaction with life.

I am not complaining about my life (although it sounds like it most of the time). I am surrounded by friends and family who love me and care about my well-being enough to listen to me whine. I have a beautiful home in a beautiful country, state, city, climate. We are both employed, which is a blessing all by itself.

Life has a way of forcing a person down paths they may not have chosen for themselves. Family, economics, opportunity, politics, all play a part in the life you live. Some few have a passion that is always burning, reorienting them toward the dream that will fulfill their desires. Some find it an easy path to follow, others overcome incredible odds to achieve their goal and live their dream.

Others, like me, have a yearning for fulfillment that doesn't come with a passion, that doesn't have a clear direction. We have a need to be useful, to make the most of the talents or skills we possess, but without the specific interest that points us to our field. We follow the opportunities we see, hoping to recognize the right one when we see it.

Still others will do whatever needs doing to get by. They are happy in whatever job they hold as long as it is honest work, and can support their family. These are happy staying in the same job for 20+ years, sometimes working their way up the ladder within the company, until they can retire and enjoy the fruits of their relentless labor.

All of these are important. All serve a purpose. All can be fulfilling. I just need to find the right door for me to push through. I am confident that given enough time, I will. One day, one of my life experiments will be the right one!

Graduation Party!

2010-05-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

I had such a great weekend.

Friday evening was my graduation. I know many people don't actually participate in the ceremony because it doesn't mean anything, the actual degree is the paper that says you completed all the coursework. But for me, the ceremony IS the defining moment. It's like a wedding. You can get married without that, it is the piece of paper that says you're married, but it's the wedding that you remember as the starting point. No matter how long you were together before that date.

Walking across that stage (or in this case, in front of it) in front of all those people, says "I did it" in my mind. It was the ultimate achievement. All that work, all that writing, was just so I could stand in front of the crowd and get that funky thing draped over my neck and down my back.

It meant a lot to me that my sister, her husband, my husband and son, were there to see that happen. Graduations are boring, but walking in that line, I couldn't stop grinning! I still can't when I think about it. It feels good to have finished, even though I have no idea what, if anything, the degree will do for me.

Saturday I had a party to celebrate with all my friends and family. It was a lot of work to get ready for, and after the garbage disposal thing, I was ready to cancel the whole thing. My husband talked me out of it, and when a couple of my friends found out about my frustration, they stepped in to help make it happen. I am so grateful, and the party was a success. It wouldn't have happened without them.

My husband is good at making me define what needs to be done in writing, then he can help with the items on the list. My sister came and helped with the shopping, my husband and a friend were there early to clean, and another couple of friends came early to cook. There is no way it would have all gotten done on my own! Thank you!!

I was also overwhelmed by the number of people who showed up. Almost my entire bible study group showed up, even though they all have busy lives and huge families. All of my long-time clients came, even some who are no longer clients but are still friends, to celebrate with me. My sister and her husband and mother-in-law. My husband's family. Even Jill and Pam, who live an hour and a half away. I am truly blessed to have so many people that care about me. Thank you all!!

Garbage Disposal Fiasco

2010-05-21T08:39:00.000-07:00

My garbage disposal went out in my main kitchen sink on Monday (did I mention it was a bad day!), and I've been working to replace it. We had purchased a garbage disposal a while ago for the other sink that had turned out to be too big, so instead of taking it back, we just got a smaller one for that sink and held on to this one, so theoretically, all I needed to do was swap them out. I started on it Wednesday morning.

Taking the old one out was a challenge. The directions for removing the disposal were impossible to follow because the builders had installed it in such a way as to make that difficult. After much frustration, and more than a few think breaks, I finally disassembled the piping all around it, and then jiggled it and yanked on it until it came loose. Whatever works, right?

I got the new sink pieces all put in, and ready to connect to the disposal, but the new disposal was heavy. Extremely heavy. So holding it up while trying to cinch the ring on top that holds it up was impossible to do on my own. I enlisted the help of two 7-year-olds, and stacks of cookbooks to rest it on, but still no luck. I finally coaxed a visiting friend Wednesday night to hold it for me so I could get it on. Success!

However, the new disposal was just a bit too wide to use the existing pipe setup. Which meant that I needed to redesign the plumbing setup to accommodate the new disposal. That had to wait until yesterday. A not-so-quick trip to the hardware store to purchase pipes, and I came home with a few that would work. I had to call home and ask my assistant to text me pictures from under the sink so I could visualize how it was all supposed to go together. One of the new pipes was an adjustable -- cut to size. Perfect.

However, apparently NOT with pipe cutters. That would be too easy. After twisting and squeezing and scoring and sharpening, I gave up. A friend suggested a hack saw or hand saw. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that. Thank you, friend. That worked. Phew.

Two days into the project, I felt good, for a moment. The disposal was installed, and the pipes all connected. Beautiful. I ran the dishwasher to test the drain, and the thing started pouring water out of the air gap into the sink. Not only that, but it was leaking all down the pipes below as well.

After taking the dishwasher drain pipe off where it connected to the disposal, I saw that it was all clogged, so I cleaned it out and re-installed. I tested it again, but it still spewed water in all the wrong places. I decided to disconnect it from the other end, and while yanking and twisting and pulling and yanking to get it off, the disposal fell off. Ugh.

I had to undo all the piping that I had just put together. I was about ready to chuck the thing at someone, but my husband was working from home, so I asked him to help hold it up while I put it back on. Only, at some point in the jostling to get it into position, it somehow fell... right onto the hand (mine) that was holding it from the bottom. Did I mention this thing is heavy? It crushed my finger under the metal edge around its bottom, and my finger popped open like an over-ripe tomato. Literally. It was instantly numb from the crushing, so although I was screaming obscenities, I think it was mostly from frustration because pain doesn't generally bother me. It took me a moment, after throwing the disposal wrench across the kitchen (which is unlike me, I don't usually throw things) to realize I'm bleeding. My husband told me to calm down, so I screamed at him, too.

At this point I am pissed off, frustrated, and bleeding... but the necessity of cleaning and bandaging calmed me down. The kids (yes, I'm swearing at the top of my lungs with a house full of kids, you don't have to tell me that that's bad) are fascinated by my bloody, blackened finger, so they watch as I cleaned and bandaged it. It was an interesting wound, completely purple and numb. The cut isn't squirting blood like a fingertip cut generally does, but rather the blood is kind of bubbling out of it. The throbbing didn't commence until sometime later.

I should probably have gone to the hospital and gotten stitches, but I was too pissed off to care. Today I'm paying for it. I have had to disinfect and reapply the stitch taping. Oh well. It's just a finger... :-)

But on a lighter note... I graduate today.

Tough Day

2010-05-18T08:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a tough day. By the end of the day I was barely holding it together. I've been sinking slowly into a depression, feeling the water creeping up over my chin, and I suffered a loss yesterday that took me completely by surprise and almost did me in. I'm keeping my nose above water, barely, but even the smallest wave can feel overwhelming.

To top that off, my son's school called me to schedule an SST (Student Success Team) meeting. I've been expecting it all year, and was actually surprised that it took so long. I know that most of his behavior issues stem from not getting enough time and positive attention from his parents, so the meeting was just another reminder of how I'm not doing enough.

I do not have what he needs to help him through this. I know he's starving for attention from us, but just the thought of giving him one more ounce makes me cringe. I have many great ideas on how to fix this problem, but no energy to do them. And when I think about doing these things every day, or every week, I feel like crawling into bed and staying there forever. I don't think I have anything left to give.

It would be ever so helpful if the sun would come out and stay out. Why am I freezing in the middle of May?

On the bright side, I did sign a new part-time child yesterday. On the downside it will require working until 6:00 or 6:30 pm at least once or twice a month.

I am doing better today, though. I did my 15 minute workout, even though I didn't want to. My husband got up early to make breakfast for my son as was suggested by the SST, which was nice. Tonight we'll try another suggestion they made. I guess we'll see how long that lasts.

It's Been Awhile.

2010-05-16T07:27:00.000-07:00

I have not written in quite a while, here or anywhere else. I don't know what to do with myself; am sitting in kind of a limbo. I graduate on Friday. Even though I've been celebrating that fact every day for two months, it still doesn't seem real. I'm not sure what to do next.

I realize that I have a really hard time just going along to get along. When things fall into routine and are no longer interesting or challenging, I have a need to change it up. That has been evident in my entire career. Not knowing what it is that I'd truly love to do, I find myself constantly looking for the next thing to "try and see." It appears that every five years or so I not only change jobs, but change careers entirely.

I committed to my bible study group to fully commit myself to the job I have for the next quarter. Slowly I'm making progress in that direction. I started by getting up and taking a shower in the morning. As silly as THAT sounds, it is so much easier to roll out of bed at 7:00 and open my door, then shower at nap-time. However, in an attempt to treat this like a "real job," I am getting presentable BEFORE I open. Imagine that!

My second step is to get up even earlier to take 15 minutes to stretch and do a little bit of exercise. I know you might think that 15 minutes is laughable, and it is, but considering I do next to NO exercise, I've been embarrassingly sore after even 15 minutes! I am hoping that this small thing will give me more energy for my day, and hopefully make me more inclined to be up and about with the kids instead of watching from my comfy seat while they play.

My final step will be to be more diligent about our daily routine. I have three activities that should happen during the day that are hit-and-miss. Usually I attend to at least one, but I really need to get to all three. I know that part of the reason that they have not been happening with regularity is that while I have so few children, yet must still pay my assistant to be here, I have been taking the time that she is here to retreat into my own space and do other things. However, if left on her own, I know that she is NOT inclined to do the routine things I feel are important. If they are to be done, I must do them.

Hopefully, by being more intentional with my daily routine, fewer things will be left on the back burner, and I will feel more accomplished and successful by actually doing the things that I know need to be done. Hopefully, feeling more accomplished will translate into a better outlook, optimism, and ambition, which will translate to a happier me, and good karma!

Self

2010-04-21T08:22:00.000-07:00

I wonder just how far a person is willing to go to be known, truly known, by another. Is it in our genetic makeup to be incomplete without someone else? And if that is the case, do we feel complete, no, can we feel complete, without being fully understood by that person?

When do you reach a point when you believe that another person knows you? There's no way that anyone will know your whole life story. What are the important parts that tell the story of who you are?

Is it possible for someone to figure it out without knowing ANY of your story? How much of who you are is the sum of your experiences, and is it important to know that to decipher the truth?

I don't know why I wonder. I know that the desire to be known is powerful. I wonder if it's possible.

Yesterday...

2010-04-18T08:38:00.000-07:00

was a day of birthdays! And none of them were little people. (bonus!)

My friend turned 40 yesterday, but because my sister-in-law's surprise birthday party was yesterday evening, I asked my friend if I could make her breakfast. I really would love to have thrown her a big bash (it's 40!! that's a big one), but I don't know any of her friends, and it wouldn't have been much of a bash with just us! Plus, I suck at planning parties, and am MUCH better at cooking for people.

She said yes, so I asked her what her favorite breakfast food was. She started to go with something easy, but I insisted that she tell me her FAVORITE food. So she confessed that it was eggs benedict. EGGS BENEDICT! was what I was thinking, but what I said was "that's cool, I can make that." LOL

Since I've never made, but happen to also love, eggs benedict I had to do some research. I had seen a recipe for a simple hollandaise on my favorite recipe site : www.thepioneerwoman.com, so I searched through her library of recipes to find it again. A good hollandaise can make or break eggs benedict, and she has wonderful taste in food, so I trusted her recipe. (Unlike some that I have to "test" before adding to my growing binder of recipes.)

And crazily enough I had just watched a portion of Martha Steward Living (I hate Martha Stewart, just so we're clear), where she was demonstrating how to make eggs benedict! I didn't see enough to know why she was doing the demonstration (if it was her recipe or someone else's), but she definitely made it look like a breeze!

Anyway, to make this rather long story shorter... They came out great, along with country potatoes that were NOT as great, she busted out an incredibly expensive, well aged, purchased-in-France bottle of champagne, and it was an amazingly great breakfast. Happy Birthday Suz!

And then off to a play date for Avery in the middle of the day, and then to get ready for my sister-in-law's party.

Her husband and my father-in-law planned the whole thing, and my f-i-l asked me to be the bartender. Well, he asked me if I knew anything about being a bartender and I said no, but promptly volunteered for the job because I would LOVE to be a bartender but don't know anything about mixing drinks since my newfound love of alcohol is relatively recent!

But! I have an iPhone, and apparently.... there's an app for that! Woohoo!

(And he printed out the recipes for Cosmos and Lemon Drops, so we had those covered.)

So I got busy making sure EVERYONE was drinking, and what kind of bartender would I be if I didn't taste the concoctions I was pushing?? So, needless to say by the end of the evening I was VERY happy and VERY friendly! We completely trashed my f-i-l's house (so sorry!) and I was barely upright and couldn't help clean up, even though the sensible side of my brain was telling the foggy, giggly other side of my brain that I really should!

All in all, it was a fun day!

Respect

2010-04-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

Several people have given me words of praise and encouragement lately, and I can't believe what an impact it has had on me. It's interesting to think that I have had a positive affect on someone else just by being, much less more than one person. It's also interesting how far a few positive words go.

I wrote a thank you to my academic advisor, who I respect immensely, and told her that it has been an honor to know her. And it has. She is brilliant, well-read, well-spoken, and writes beautifully. She has been incredibly patient with the reading and editing, re-reading and re-editing, re-re-reading, etc. that was required to get my thesis ready to submit. I was quite impressed with her dedication, attention to detail, and her genuine interest in seeing her students produce a quality product.

She responded by saying she felt the same about me! Me? Really?

Then I realized that my idea of success is to be respected by someone I admire. Does that mean I've made it? ;-)

Who would you be...?

2010-04-09T15:34:00.000-07:00

A friend asked a question in his blog today that has intrigued me. He said who would you be if you had complete freedom to be whoever you wanted to be?

And I wondered, does anyone have that freedom? How much of who you are is shaped by circumstance?

I know kids have a unique personality, so there is that. But life does change you. Hardship, expectations, society, all have a say in who you are.

When first I thought about the question, I thought that probably only the kids of the very rich would have that kind of freedom to be whoever they wanted. But even they have expectations set on them. They are expected to live up to their status, act a specific way, not embarrass their parents. Some choose to rebel, but even that is a function of circumstance.

I know the school of hard knocks changes a person. Adapting to hardship makes a big difference in who you are.

That's what I think, anyway. Do you agree? Who would you be if you had the complete freedom to be whoever you think you wanted to be? Would you be who you are now? Or would you be someone completely different?

Food, Inc.

2010-03-29T15:38:00.000-07:00

I just finished watching the documentary, Food, Inc. If you haven't watched it, you should.

It's not enough to be aware of what you're putting into your mouth. That's important. The fact that what you eat may be destroying your body and contributing to the healthcare crisis that everyone seems so concerned about is important.

But what is more important is the fact that our government is doing EVERYTHING THEY CAN to make it as close to impossible as they legally can for you to do anything about it.

The government is in bed with big business. I think the most recent decisions coming out of the Supreme Court have demonstrated that. But this movie illustrated just how insidious this encroachment has become. Many of the heads of the government agencies designed to protect the interests of the consumers are now being run by ex-employees of the very businesses they are supposed to protect us from!

And not the types of employees that understand what it's like to be a average consumer, and might have just enough experience in the industry to want to affect change. These people are the ones that made huge amounts of money from their ex-employers as CEO's or VP's or attorneys. They may still (I'm speculating here) have an interest in keeping those bridges unburned for future reference or employment. Hell, they may even still be making money from those jobs (still speculating, so you don't need to send hate mail).

So how are they supposed to be objective? What incentive do they have to think about you and me, rather than their own bank account?

Did you know that the FDA actually tried to shut down a production plant for consistently producing infected food products, but that company sued the FDA and WON!! There is now legal precedent that states that the FDA does not have the legal authority to shut down a food production facility. I thought that was their JOB!

I'm sorry I'm shouting. This boils my blood like nothing else.

Land of the free... That is the country that we are supposed to be living in. That's what our young men and women are fighting and dying to protect. Would they fight for the right of major corporations to value profit over people?

What happens when you don't get to choose (in this case) the food you put on your table? It's already difficult to know what you're eating. What happens when the choice is taken away? That may sound dramatic, but large corporations have staff dedicated to finding ways of putting competitors out of business. Especially if they know their competitors are small and unable to fight back. Soon there won't be a choice to make. What then?

We can't all be farmers. We can't all be self-sustaining entities. We must depend on others to provide for some parts of our life. I have no problem with those companies, that are providing something for me that I need, to make a profit. I am a capitalist at heart, the kind that believes in the balance of economics. (Wikipedia tells me there are many kinds.)

What I don't agree with is bullying, and the government jumping on the bully band-wagon.

The basis of capitalism as I understand it is for demand to drive supply. Consumers demand what they want by choosing the items to purchase, and the corporations do what they must to meet that demand or die trying. When the corporations get big enough to decide what they want us to buy, and then squeeze out anyone who might offer a different or better option, capitalism dies.

Government was designed to protect the people from oppressors. Who's fighting for us? Where are our representatives?

In case I haven't mentioned it...

2010-03-24T21:56:00.000-07:00

...I finished my thesis!

You have no idea how good that feels! I was grinning for a week after getting the entire thing signed off by my academic advisor and the Department of Education. I have an appointment to meet with the Office of Graduate Studies in a week, and once they sign off, that's all she wrote!

I still have work to do on the website itself. The design I paid a website designer to create is crap, and he needs to change it. It's been frustrating working with him, because he knows so little about the business he decided to start. But he's not arguing about the need to change it, and he was cheap, so I'm not complaining (much). I guess you get what you pay for!

I couldn't believe how thick my paper was, once I had printed it. I had never printed the whole thing. I took my son with me when I went to pick it up from the Department of Education. On the way home I told him that I had written the whole thing, and he said "no, you used your computer!" So I said that yes, I had not written it out long-hand, but all the words came out of my head, and he was duly impressed. He kept saying how proud of me he was, and then insisted on showing his grandma and telling her that I wrote that whole thing! It was quite cute.

Anyway, I will be graduating in May, and having a grand party on May 22nd. Everyone I know is invited. I can't believe I'm actually done, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with the degree now that I have it, but whatever! I needed something more to do, right?

Don't Ask, Don't Tell...

2010-03-16T11:33:00.000-07:00

I didn't realize that under this law servicemen/women were actually being DISHONORABLY discharged from the military because of sexual preference. This is mind boggling to me.

What does "don't ask, don't tell" mean to you? To me it means "I won't ask because it's none of my business, and you don't have to tell me even if I do." So how are these discharges occurring?

If you read the text of the legislation, barring open sex acts in front of an audience (which no one wants to see happening in the military no matter what your sexual preference), a statement of fact by the accused, or trying to participate in a same-sex marriage, these men and women should not be being discharged. However, since its inception in 1993, there have been over 13,500 discharges.

Like the rest of the U.S. population that doesn't really care about the sex life of the people that are giving their lives to protect this country, I think I just assumed that "don't ask, don't tell" meant just that, and I didn't see why anything needed to be changed. Apparently, my definition appears to be a little too literal.

I'm not talking about the oppressive nature of this law and the fact that having to hide your personal life from every person you ever come in contact with for the length of your service term is grossly unfair. I'm not going into that because I know that's my opinion, and not everyone thinks that fair for one is fair for all. That's a civil rights argument that has been going on for as long as this country has been a country.

I'm talking about a person risking his/her life to serve a country that is willing to fire them at a moment's notice, rescind any benefits that they may have worked for during their service up to that point, and possibly harm their chances for future employment.

That's the part that is unbelievable to me.

And the fact that the very people they are serving don't seem to have an opinion on it. Or maybe, like me, they weren't aware of what was going on. Either way, unbelievable.

Happy Beginnings...

2010-03-09T09:39:00.001-08:00

My husband asked me this morning if I was looking forward to a great day today. I looked at him like he was insane or on drugs! Since when was he so chipper at 6:30 in the morning??

He said I should start my day in a positive mood, and I realized that that used to be a given for me, but now it seems absurd. When did I get so cynical and depressed? My life is wonderful. I have so much to be thankful for. I don't think I have ever been in such a good place.

I wonder if being happy is a choice. Can I just decide to look on the bright side, and then feel the effects throughout my day?

If so, here's my bright side. I am within a couple days of completing my thesis! This huge monumental objective of getting my Master's is within sight. I will be graduating in two months. Woohoo!! It's hard to believe I'm SO CLOSE to being done!

My husband and I found a mutually pleasing solution to my co-signing mistake. We still need to sell the cars, but we are on our way to putting that behind us.

My son decided NOT to move out of the house. My husband had a discussion with him, and he understands that chores are just a part of living in a household, and everyone needs to do their part to contribute to the well-being of the family. Phew. He may be only seven, but he's pretty resourceful. He may have figured out a way to make it on his own...

Oh! And I started on the actual cutting and sewing of my bedroom bed cover and window coverings. I think, when it is done, it will be beautiful!

Here's to a bigger, brighter tomorrow.

March 3rd...

2010-03-03T10:11:00.000-08:00

is my little sister's birthday. But since I doubt she reads this blog, I'm pretty sure she won't care that this isn't about her. :-)

What it is about is an e-mail I received from Organic Valley. I'm on their mailing list so I can get coupons for milk as often as possible. Since we go through about six gallons of organic milk a week, any little bit helps.

They sent me an e-mail this morning asking for a moment of my time to write the USDA about their plan to approve a genetically engineered alfalfa for commercial use. Today is the last day the USDA will be accepting input on this subject.

This was an excerpt from their e-mail:

You may not think about alfalfa much when you're drinking organic milk, but organic alfalfa is important to organic farming, as a nourishing animal feed that's also a nitrogen-fixing soil enhancer. Once GE alfalfa is introduced, its contamination of non-GE plants - including organic - is all but inevitable. And because alfalfa is fed to dairy cows and other livestock, contamination puts organic dairy and meat at risk, too! Learn more

In their EIS, the USDA states "There is no evidence that consumers care about GE contamination of organic alfalfa." We know that you do care. Let's not be Monsanto's guinea pigs!

Then they included a plea and a link to leave a comment on the USDA website, and then to let them know that I did so.

So, as requested, I left a comment, then followed up with an e-mail to the sender. This is an excerpt from that e-mail:

I doubt the effectiveness of speaking my piece to a government more interested in staying in the good graces of big business than in representing the people, but at least I made an effort.

She replied and told me that the whole organic movement (Organic Rule... I don't know if that means anything) is a result of public interest and demand.

So I'm doing an informal poll. I've never done anything like this before, so I'm not sure what kind of response I'll get, but here goes...

I've become increasingly riled up about the trend of our government, and increasingly convinced that my voice really doesn't make a difference. So, this is my question....

Do you think you have a say? Do you think your vote, or comment, or e-mail, or phone call, or letter makes any difference?

Paralyzed with Fear...

2010-02-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

It all started with a commercial....

I saw a commercial to apply to be on the commission to redistrict California. It seemed simple enough! I voted for the redistricting to happen, and now they were opening the process and the decision to anyone who qualified. It seemed like an incredibly interesting and fulfilling thing to do.

So I applied. It turns out that the initial form you fill out is a PRELIMINARY application just to make sure you have no strong ties to either political party. That wasn't a problem. I don't know any politicians, nor have I ever contributed large sums of money to anyone's campaign. Super.

I'm an hispanic woman, which already makes me more diversified than the bulk of the applicants, and they claim to want diversity. Cool.

I "passed" their preliminary requirements and received an e-mail saying I can now complete step two of the application process. I must now write four (4!!) 500-word essays describing my qualifications in specific areas and the experience that I have to back up that assertion. In addition to this, I need three separate letters of recommendation collaborating on those assertions. OMG!

This is where my stomach dropped. I read the job description, and although it was incredibly long and complex that only served to make me want it more. The qualifications that they are looking for fit me to a "T", but I don't think I have any specific job experience that ever actually used any of these skills.

They want someone analytical, good with maps, can assign tasks to a staff, can read through a tremendous amount of legal jargon and technical data and make sense of it, can sort through statistics and make sense of them, can listen to arguments on fact and decide which would better suit the needs of California, and can appreciate the diversity that is California. I think I'm all of those things, but how do I prove that??

Hence the fear. Partly the fear is because I would LOVE to do this, and therefore want it badly. The rest is just the idea of trying to sell myself and my qualifications in a series of essays when I have no actual data to pull from.

I've written a business plan, and a thesis.... 2,000 words shouldn't be that scary, should it?

Mulan & Cinderella

2010-02-20T08:28:00.001-08:00

My son decided to watch Mulan this morning. It is one of my favorite Disney movies, and one I can watch over and over, so I sat with him while I ate breakfast this morning.

It struck me, as Mulan is preparing to meet the matchmaker in the movie, what a difference there is in this Chinese "cinderella story" and the European one.

I know, I know... before you jump on me for taking a Disney movie literally, that Disney's movies are LOOSELY based on the traditional stories. I get that.

But even loosely, it's interesting how this Chinese cinderella story is about a young woman that joins the military to fight in place of her father, and becomes famous for coming up with the strategy that ultimately saves China. Whereas, the European cinderella is a scullery maid who gets "discovered" by the prince, and is whisked off to live happily ever after as a princess.

Hmmm...

(Of course, the Disney version of Mulan gets the strong, beautiful man at the end, and therefore enjoys the best of both worlds.)

What strikes me the most about these stories is that China, who is notorious for devaluing women, and even the Disney movie points out that the only way for a woman to bring honor to China is to find a husband and make boy babies, produces this amazing story about a woman that proves her worth as a strong, thinking individual. Yet we, who go on and on about women's rights, and equal this and equal that, still want to believe that to be whisked away by a knight in shining armor, to be spoiled and loved, never to work again is our ultimate fairy tale.

I can understand why young girls might be confused. It seems that we profess one thing, but believe another.

Interesting Conversation

2010-02-17T21:10:00.000-08:00

I had an interesting conversation with an Iraqi woman today. On the way to pick up a friend from her doctor's office (to give her a ride home), I passed a Muslim woman walking along one of the back streets of my town.

My hometown is in the foothills. Some of it is flat, but most of it is on an incline, with the highest part of it climbing a pretty steep hill. I was driving along one of the steepest streets when I saw the woman. In addition to being steep, the point where I passed her was a LONG way from anywhere. She was obviously walking from the residential area, but it was at least a half mile to the next largest street, and she was lugging a rolling suitcase and a rather large shoulder bag, dressed completely in the traditional Muslim robe/dress and head covering.

Usually I rationalize every possible reason for a person to be walking and where they might be heading until I'm way too far along to stop even if I did feel like it would be the right thing to do. This time, it took no time at all. A woman dressed like that, carrying that much baggage, had no business walking the distance she would be going just to get to the next store, assuming she was walking to Costco (which seemed highly unlikely).

So I slammed on my brakes, backed up as far as was safe along the curb, and offered the lady a ride. It turned out she was walking to the light rail station which was clear across town.

She was at least 60 years old. She'd been in this country for 10 years, still going through the process of getting her green card. Living with her unmarried daughter, as is culturally correct (from what I gathered), she would take this hike anytime she wanted to go into the nearest city, which is about 30 miles away.

We talked about Iraq, and her view on the war. She voiced frustration that our country leaders (not the people, she stressed) invaded her country and dismantled her country's military. Hussein was a dictator, of course, but the people under him were required to obey for fear of death. Even I had to obey, or I would be killed, she said.

Can you imagine living like that? But the interesting part of the conversation was that she believed that the dismantling of the sitting military is what opened the country up to civil war between the religious factions. I don't understand the ins and outs of the Sunni and Shiite (and I thought she mentioned one other) factions, but she referred to them as militias with no one left to control them.

We didn't have much time, there was a bit of a language barrier, and I'm sure there was much more that I don't remember, but it was interesting to hear her point of view.

One Day...

2010-02-08T23:19:00.000-08:00

Rain, Rain, Go Away,

Come again another day.

Is it human nature to deal with discomfort by pushing it off to a later date?

We experience hurt and disappointment and we swallow it, shoving it down deep in the corners, to dust out some other day.

But what happens if the rain never comes? What happens if that "one day" never occurs?

Does our soul shrivel up and die like parched earth?

My Recent Experience with Healthcare

2010-02-04T14:46:00.000-08:00

The week before Christmas I think I broke my big toe. I showed up for my Taekwondo class, and no one else did, so my instructor offered to give me private jujitsu lessons. Of course I accepted!

Jujitsu is cool! It's all about getting out of holds and throwing people down. Ok. I'm sure there's more to it than that, but that was what my lesson was about.

However, twice during the class my big toe caught on the mat and rolled under my foot. The second time it happened, I was in the process of throwing my instructor down, and I had lifted him onto my hip. So the combined weight of him and I was too much for my poor toe.

Later that night I felt it. It swelled a little, but really started to hurt. Being stubborn and proud, I didn't listen when my husband urged me to go to the doctor. It's a toe for goodness sakes!! What could they possibly do for me anyway...

I finally conceded and taped the toe flat and straight with a tongue depressor cut in half. I did that for a couple of weeks, but that was REALLY inconvenient! After about four weeks, I was beginning to feel like it had fully healed, and healed well. I went back to Taekwondo.

That was a mistake! I was doing very well, but halfway through the class I kicked the paddle my instructor was telling me to kick, and I felt my toe give. Instantly, I knew that I'd made a mistake!

I went back to limping and taking it easy. I didn't re-tape it, but I was definitely being careful.

A week later, and it's actually feeling worse than it did when I first damaged it. So today I swallowed my pride and went to the doctor. My doctor sent me off for x-rays.

I have health insurance. Thankfully. But I intentionally have a plan with a high deductible, which I pair with an HSA account that we contribute to for small expenses, like prescriptions and office visits. It makes me very conscientious of what we go to the doctor for, or the price we pay for prescriptions. So, knowing I'd be paying for it, I asked for the cost of the x-rays.

This is what she tells me: If I pay cash (had no insurance), the cost would be $170. Since I have insurance, and they have a contract with my insurance company, the cost is $213. I asked her if I could pay cash, and submit the paperwork to my insurance company myself. She said no, because that would be breaking the contract they had with my insurance company.

Seriously?

I know that billing the insurance company costs money. However, I offered to do the paperwork myself. $43. I now have to pay an extra $43 because of a contract between the imaging company and my insurance provider. Could this be why the costs of insurance premiums are so high? And getting higher. This was just a $200 x-ray. What if it had been a $5,000 procedure. Would they tack on an extra 25% to that too? That's $1,250.

Do you have any idea what it costs when you go to the doctor? Or get an x-ray? Or get blood drawn?

Perhaps, if we were more aware of what's going on behind the scenes, we'd be better able to fight for a healthcare plan that would benefit everyone.

EMDR and Therapy

2010-01-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

I guess I never posted a follow-up to my EMDR second appointment last Wednesday, so here goes.

The second appointment was, if anything, worse than the first. We went through a series of stupid questions, that the therapist should have known the answer to based on our previous conversations. When I complained, she said she "had to go through her standard form" list of questions.

I think that in a field as subjective as psychology, there should be no such thing as a "standard form." But that's just me. What do I know?

After an hour of questions, followed by pauses to see how that made me "feel," I came to the conclusion that I may have an attachment problem. My fear of abandonment may cause me not to get too attached to anyone. I might find something to read on that subject.

Aside from that, another wasted hour and $90.

But by the end of the day I figured that the EMDR must be doing something. I don't know what it was doing, but I came home and ate for the rest of the day. Obsessively. I couldn't stop. I was stuffed to the point of pain, but still eating. I ate so much I had a stomach-ache for 2 days.

I have to say, if gaining 50# is the price of emotional health, then I'm ok with being messed up!

Healthcare Reform

2010-01-21T05:22:00.000-08:00

I heard something on the radio yesterday that really bothered me about our government. Granted, there are many things that bother me about our government, but this is just the epitome of many of those things.

A Republican was elected into one of the Senate seats for Massachusetts. Immediately following the election results, the Democrats went into a huddle to see how this would affect their big plans. None of that is surprising. The Democrats no longer hold a 2/3 majority. (I know there's a term for that, but I can't think of it right now.)

Anyway, the following day the President and the Majority Leader come out moderating their stance on healthcare reform. NOW they are willing to work with the "other side of the aisle" to rally around the points of reform that they can both agree on?

Now? Two days ago they were willing to stuff whatever they wanted down the throats of the American people regardless of what THEY might want... just because they could. But now that that is no longer likely, NOW they are willing to work together on something that everyone can AGREE on? That just boggles my mind. It shouldn't, but it does.

Is this how it went down with the TARP funds? I heard someone (on that same radio station) mention a while back that during that time, the Senate offices were so flooded with e-mail that they actually cut the bandwidth (not sure if that is the correct term), so only minimal number of e-mail could get through. How's that for representation?

I WANT to represent the people I serve, but I want MORE to do this thing... so I'll just turn off the answering machine? Really?

Do you FEEL represented?

Blogging...

2010-01-20T12:54:00.000-08:00

I just spent 30 minutes going through some of the blogs that I have bookmarked. It's been a LONG time since I've read any blog that wasn't written by someone I know. Granted, blogs are an easy way to keep up with the lives of distant friends, but the primary reason I started reading blogs was to see what people had to say about specific issues.

I have basically three types of blogs I read: business/career/money/entrepreneurship, frugal/coupon, and personal friend/out-of-the-box pastors.

Ok, I guess that's more complicated than I thought. These are my areas of interest. I like to keep up with the young business world, the people who have new ideas on how to do business, and are young enough to write about it in blog format. These blogs keep me in the loop of corporate america, and what the twenty-somethings are feeling about job prospects. This is a narrow view (consisting only of people able or willing to write), but is still a quick look into the business arena.

More than that, I have a few bookmarked blogs that have great tips on how to save a few dollars. This generally revolves around the food budget, but may include budgeting tips. These include bloggers that make the coupon game easier by matching up coupons with sales at the major market chains, and publishing that information. Or bloggers that give recipe ideas for low cost home-cooked meals.

And even more than that, I enjoy reading up on the few people I know who blog. These are generally snippets of the daily activities of friends that give me a glimpse into their lives. In amongst these are the pastors that blog about being a little left of center when it comes to mainstream religion. Kind of a strange combination, but I like it.

Generally, when I have a few minutes, I catch up on the blogs in the order in which I like them (in other words, from last mentioned to first). So the business blogs rarely make it into my limited timeframe.

I know this is a priority choice, so today I decided to go the other direction. I used the time I had waiting for the kiddies to fall asleep to read some of the business blogs I haven't visited in months.

And you know what? I realized why I started blogging in the first place! I enjoy reading these business perspectives, and they force me to pause and evaluate my own position on ideas that wouldn't otherwise occur to me. Some of them are political commentary, some just state a position on whatever major issue is going on in D.C. Some are money ideas, investment tips, savings ideas, etc. And I realized that that is what I had intended for my blog. To be a means of sorting out my opinions and ideas, and putting them out there to invite comment.

Being in this field, I often feel starved for intelligent conversation. I usually don't realize it until I've had an intelligent conversation with someone about some debatable issue. Then I realize what I miss the most about working in an office filled with other professionals. Somewhere in the building there is likely to be an intelligent person that enjoys debate, and can help define/articulate ideas that otherwise are general or vague impressions.

I think I had the thought that over time, the process of writing would further refine my interests into a specific area of "expertise." However, that has not been the case. If anything, I'm now interested in even MORE diverse topics than I was when I started this.

Either way, it was great to spend just a little bit of time in the blogosphere and remember what I liked about it!

2010 - The Year to Save

2010-01-18T14:02:00.000-08:00

I have a savings account at ING Direct. There was a time when that company offered really great interest rates on savings accounts, and that provided the incentive to transfer money back and forth between my bank account and ING Direct. Granted, being a solely web-based institution, they make those kinds of transactions relatively painless. You just have to be aware that it will take days for the transfer and retrieval of that money.

Now, interest rates aren't great. They are still one of the highest in the business for a straight, liquid, savings account, but interest rates are just really tanking right now.

This morning they sent me an interesting e-mail newsletter. They are looking for stories about saving. In exchange for choosing your story, they will be giving out money towards your savings goals.

This got me thinking. Well, to be fair, I've been thinking about this for the last couple of months. Friends around me are losing their jobs or taking pay cuts. My business is slow, and my employee seems grateful just to have her job, regardless of the fact that her hours have been cut dramatically. The climate is changing in this country.

And it made me think about the generation who lived through the Great Depression. That became a generation of savers. Having lived through some of the toughest times this country has seen, they had learned the hard way to keep an "emergency fund", to pay cash for goods, and not to spend frivolously.

We've all seen where the "buy now pay later" mentality has gotten us. I think we might be moving again towards moderation and saving. At least, I hope so.

This year I'm determined to build my emergency fund. I'm also determined to build a month's buffer that will allow me to breathe a little easier when it's time to pay the bills and will hopefully temper that feeling of living paycheck to paycheck. It's not easy, let me tell you. I'm watching every dollar and dime. But I'm hoping that it will be worth it in the long run. That should the worst happen, and we are forced to live on one income, or god-forbid, no income, that we would have time to take the necessary steps to take care of our family.

2010... The year to save.

The Tinman

2010-01-12T06:56:00.000-08:00

Since my final semester of school has no actual class meetings, I have rejoined my Monday night bible study/women's group. It is primarily an "authentic community" group, where we can go to be completely honest about everything, and be accountable to each other, in a safe and secure environment.

No matter how much my faith waxes and wains, I've always enjoyed attending. The love I have for these women, and they for me, runs deep. I missed them terribly when I was in school.

The beginning and the end of the meeting consists of checking in/out with a word to describe the emotion you are feeling. With my new problem of a complete lack of emotion, these are now hard questions to answer!

Last Monday, at checkout, someone commented about another woman having a heavy heart, or that it was full to overflowing, and my immediate response in my mind was the lyrics "if I only had a heart....", and I dubbed myself The Tinman when it was time for me to check out.

Last night walking into the meeting, that song played itself over and over in my head. Well, not the entire song, since I can't remember it, but just that phrase. I think it's fitting!

I have another therapy appointment tomorrow morning. The saga continues.

EMDR and Therapy

2010-01-09T07:35:00.000-08:00

I had my first appointment with the new therapist on Thursday. I was somewhat more nervous about going to this one than I had been for the original one. I'm not sure why, except maybe that I had had more time to think about it.

New Therapist is marginally closer to me, but works only Mon-Wed, 8-5. Old Therapist did evening appointments, which makes perfect sense to me for a service industry that primarily serves a working population. (I'm assuming, of course, that if someone is not working, they would not be able to afford counseling. That may be a faulty assumption. I'm learning, slowly, that people are generally not very logical.)

New Therapist had made a special appointment on Thursday morning for me, considering the "urgent" nature of my need.

I went in a little early to fill out paperwork (which she had e-mailed to me, and I had completely forgotten to print or fill out), and she had not yet arrived, so I used the time to work on the extensive to-do list I had created on my way to her office. I figured I could at least make some calls that I needed to make.

She came in while I was on the phone with Comcast. I tried to get off the phone, but that kind of conversation needs to be followed through to resolution, so I made her wait. She didn't seem to mind. It wasn't long before I hung up and could go into her office.

We talked briefly about Old Therapist and what had occurred there, and then she spoke briefly about EMDR and what it does. Her explanation was less than complete, as apparently she prefers to have her patients read up on it before coming in. Go figure. She tells me that the machine basically makes you access both sides of your brain while talking/processing whatever it is you are talking about, by the use of headphones that may or may not make a beeping sound in each ear. (I'm not exactly clear on this. Obviously.)

We didn't really get to use the EMDR (according to New Therapist) because this appointment was all about the back story. I spoke to her about my mother, my son, my step-fathers, etc. We kind of wandered all over the place with no rhyme or reason to the direction. She was NOT as adept as Old Therapist at listening and asking questions in order to direct the conversation. In fact I think the 30 minutes I had with Old Therapist were more effective than the 75 minutes (we ran long) with New Therapist. If EMDR is as effective as this lady suggests, Old Therapist should look into it!

There were a couple of things that were red flags for me with New Therapist, besides the fact that she does not lead the conversation with questions. First, she seemed to want to know about irrelevant things. Granted, it is my assumption that they are irrelevant. Perhaps in the grand scheme of things they will be of utmost importance. We'll see. For instance, she asked quite a bit about my son, what he's like, and my parenting style with him. I'm sure that gives her some insight, but I'm completely satisfied with the parent I am, and don't really need her to tell me that I do a better job than my mother did. Duh.

Second, I told her about an incident in my childhood that shaped the relationship I had with my mother for the rest of my life. This incident happened when I was around 5 years old. I told her the story, then moved on to other things. At some point she wanted to go back to this incident, so I complied. She asked me to tell her how it would have "went down" if I (the mother I am today) had been dealing with me (the 5 year old). I was confused. All I could say was "WHAT??". So she asked me to tell her how I think it would have happened had a loving mother been involved in the incident as described.... Are you kidding me??

So I said, "I don't pretend very well".

She was taken aback, but recovered and moved on. But let me tell you, if this is her technique, she's not going to last. I definitely don't need her to explain that my mother was not a good mother. Double Duh.

I will give her a chance. We have another appointment on Wednesday morning. I'm mostly interested in finding out how the EMDR works, and if it works. But if this is her "style" and she can't adapt, then I think I'd much rather take as long as it takes to work through things with Old Therapist without the assistance of the EMDR. However much they both claim that EMDR shortens the process, it is not worth it to me to work with someone dumb. Ok, maybe that's a little harsh. Not dumb, merely inexperienced, inflexible, and by-the-book. I can already tell you I'm not typical.

New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-06T11:03:00.000-08:00

A friend asked me on New Year's Day what my resolutions were for this year. I rarely set New Year's resolutions. What is so special about this one day of the year, and why should I wait for it to set my goals or resolutions?

Interestingly, though, I had set some goals in December that work just as well. So when she asked me what those were, I figured they could be my "New Year's" resolutions.

This morning, another friend asked me what my resolutions were for this year. I knew I had just spelled them out over the weekend, but I couldn't remember what they were! So I had the brilliant idea of writing them here. That way, whenever I needed to check on my progress, I'd know exactly where to find my list.

Isn't that what an electronic journal is for? ;-)

So, as discussed on New Year's Day, here is my list of resolutions, and hopeful finish dates:

Finish Chapter 3 of my thesis by January 31. Finish the final section by March 15th.

Cut costs and build a savings buffer of at least one month's income. This is because I took the recommendation of a friend and bought a budgeting software that advocates this, and I agree that it is an excellent idea! This I would like to have accomplished by July 1st.

Finish the decorating of my bedroom by June 26th. (This might be difficult alongside the cutting costs part, but the bulk of the purchasing has been done, and now I just need to do the work.)

Come up with a plan on building my next business by the end of the year. I would like this to be either opening a preschool/childcare center OR real estate investing in rental properties.

I think those are ambitious, but doable. Hopefully having them written for all to see will keep me moving towards accomplishing them!

Therapy

2009-12-28T21:19:00.000-08:00

Tonight I had my therapy appointment.

Wait, let me back up.

Last week I went to see my chiropractor. He also does holistic healing using the body's messages to find the emotional core of whatever symptoms your body displays, or something along those lines. I went to him to see if he could do his voodoo on my brain and open the floodgates, so to speak.

We had a productive time. At least I thought so. He asked for 30 minutes, and I was there for an hour and a half, discussing resentments, past and present. All from some clue he got from my pancreas, or some such weird thing. Anyway, I was encouraged by that and looking forward to my appointment tonight.

So, back to tonight.

I met the therapist, and she asked me a little about the depression that I had commented about on the paperwork. I told her that it was something I've struggled with since childhood, and she asked if it was genetic. I mentioned that my mother probably had had a chemical imbalance and was either manic depressive or bi-polar. Since I referred to her in the past tense, she asked if my mother was dead. I said no.

That led to some discussion of my relationship (or lack of) with my mother. After about 15-20 minutes of that she stopped me. At this point we were about 30 minutes into the session. She stopped me and said that frankly she wasn't what I needed, and referred me to someone who specializes in EMDR and trauma treatments. She couldn't explain what EMDR was, so I'll have to let you know what it is when I find out, but she seemed to think I needed something more intense/direct/effective than just talking about my issues.

She even told me what to say to the lady she was referring me to. I wrote it down. She said "go ahead and tell her all that on her voicemail." She seemed to imply there was some urgency in getting in to see her.

Go figure. I thought I was doing pretty well, I just needed a little help with letting my emotions out. Hunh. Fired by my therapist halfway through the first session.

I'll keep you posted on the new one when I get an appointment. Now I'm curious...

Needless to say, she didn't charge me.

Emotions

2009-12-22T07:50:00.001-08:00

I know I mentioned this in a previous post, but I've been thinking quite a bit about emotions. I have not started on my quest to find them, but the quest itself, and the possible outcome has been on my mind.

So, according to Dr. Laura Berman, if you suppress one or more emotions, you suppress them all, since they all come from the same center in the brain. I know I've mentioned that before. I think I'm going somewhere with this...

The five emotions, as described in ysmarko's blog, are: Anger, Hurt, Sadness, Fear, and Joy. I think he was saying that all others are a subset of these. This sounds about right to me, but not being an expert on emotion, I'm willing to take his word for it.

My question is... Why are 4 out of the 5 unpleasant?

Long time...

2009-12-18T21:20:00.000-08:00

Has it really been since Thanksgiving that I last posted? I deserved the nudge, Frank! Thanks.

I've been avoiding writing because I can't think of anything positive to say. Not wanting to appear the malcontent that I naturally am, I decided to refrain altogether.

But a little birdie told me that the occasional lapse in my recovery is acceptable, so here goes.

I've been feeling really low since Vauna's death. I really feel like I'm an emotional zombie. I have nothing going on inside, and honestly, I don't like it. I seem to be getting better and better at repressing emotion, to the point that it's no longer a choice, but just a natural reflex.

It hasn't been too long since I last held back by choice, or let loose on a lonely drive. But lately? Nothing. And I have to admit to sinking into a bit of depression. I think the holidays contribute to that, though.

It's not a good time to be depressed, let me tell you! There's a ton of things that need to happen in the month of December, and this year especially I can't afford to be moping around, pissing my days away! My business is struggling, my thesis needs writing, my records need to be updated for year-end tax prep, and Christmas needs all the attention that Christmas generally takes. Definitely not the time to be hiding my head under the covers.

So I made an appointment to see a therapist a week from Monday. I've seen a couple in the past with unfavorable results, but this lady came well recommended, so I'm willing to try it again. I'm hoping that she can help me figure out where my problem lies. I'll let you know how it goes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-25T06:43:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. I'm looking forward to the long weekend!

Thursday I'll be doing my annual Run to Feed the Hungry with my friend. This will be our 4th year, I think. We always do the 5k untimed walk, but it is still fun. It's crazy to see 30,000 people all crammed into a small space at the start of the race. Apparently this year they've made some changes and staggered the start time. Hopefully that will make the crush at the beginning a little easier.

It takes us about an hour to walk the 5k in the morning. This year I won't have to hurry back to make sure everything gets in the oven as we are having our Thanksgiving family meal on Friday! I thought it would be easier on the "other half" of everyone's family to have it on a separate day than to have everyone rushing from one place to another to fit in time with both families. It seems to have been a good idea, because now we'll have a bigger crowd! I'm looking forward to a more relaxed time together.

After all of that, I get a massage. Woohoo! The day after the walk, I'll probably need it. I trade massage for after-school care, and it's well worth the trade! I love trading services!

Saturday we have tickets to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra again. This is another annual tradition. It will be our sixth time, I think. We've gone every year they have come to our town to see them perform. If you're not familiar with TSO, they give an incredible Christmas concert every year. It's a Christmas story told through narration and music, the same every year, but it never gets old. They are really a talented group, and I love the story format. They make truly beautiful music. My son really loves the music. This will be his third time seeing them.

Sometime in there I'd also like to get the stripping done on the kid's playroom floor. I ripped out the carpet and am planning on leaving the concrete bare. That requires stripping off all of the glue from the carpet pad, cleaning the mess left by the builders, patching the cracks in the concrete, then sealing the whole floor. Hopefully, I'll be left with a clean and shiny concrete floor that is easy to clean and fairly mess proof.

I'm hoping this will provide a play surface that will open more possibilities for messy play without having to worry about the damage to the floors. Once the daycare is out of my home, I can always cover the concrete again with the bamboo flooring I've been eyeing!

So, that's my long weekend. What are you doing?

Death

2009-11-18T14:41:00.001-08:00

My ex's mother died today, and I feel.... nothing.

How is it that I've turned into this emotional zombie? She was very important to me. I spent every evening and weekend sitting by her bed for FIVE MONTHS, when she fell ill a few years ago.

Once she got out of the hospital and went home, though, I distanced myself some. Well, a lot. I'd still visit her, and call her, but not often.

But then, I've kind of distanced myself from everything.

Why do I not feel something? Anything? A radio host I listen to said that if you suppress one emotion you suppress them all. That they all come from the same place in your brain, and there's no way to selectively choose which emotions to suppress.

I know this isn't making sense. I'm rambling. I don't know what's WRONG with me. How in the world does one live like this?

Where The Wild Things Are...

2009-11-14T09:03:00.001-08:00

Disclaimer: This may spoil the movie for someone who hasn't seen it and still wants to. Proceed at your own risk!

I took my son to see this movie when it first came out a month ago. I really liked the movie, but couldn't really say why. I couldn't put my finger on what made the movie special.

There were no spectacular plot points to examine, no dramatic action scenes, no happily ever after. It was just a good movie.

And then it hit me. This morning....in the shower...a month after I'd seen the movie, I realized what made it special.

It was real. The story is about a boy, maybe 8 or 9 years old, who deals with the confusion and anger of real life by escaping to a fantasy world of his own making. Then, after spending some period of time there, he realizes that he can't stay there forever, and he goes home. The end.

There was no summation of major breakthroughs, no telling the audience what they had seen, and then how they should feel about it. Just real life. Take from it what you need to, or want to, or can relate to. That's it.

How novel. And refreshing.

Joy

2009-11-13T20:33:00.000-08:00

I watched an Oprah today. I don't watch often, but I do record her shows just in case she has someone interesting on.

Apparently she recently had Ellen on her show. I have been a fan of Ellen's for a long time. She's funny. And she says what she thinks, which is refreshing. I'm sure she has more restraint than I do, and even when she does say what she's thinking she manages to make it funny, so she probably doesn't offend nearly as many people as I do. That's admirable too.

And she's not afraid to be who she is.

But I realized something else while watching her with Oprah. Ellen is joyful. You can see it in her face when she speaks, when she laughs, when she smiles. She loves life. Her joy radiates out from her every time she speaks. That joy translates into an optimism that is enviable.

Joy is such an elusive and rare gift. One can be happy, and still not have joy.

And joy is attractive. You can't help but be drawn to true joy.

Optimism is a byproduct of joy. How can you not expect the best out of life when you have the level of contentment and happiness that would be required to be truly joyful? It's a self-perpetuating cycle. Optimism is key to achieving your goals and being content with where you are while you're getting there, therefore contributing to a state of happiness.

Is this the law of attraction? If so, how does one practice joy before actually achieving it?

Children's Conversation

2009-11-09T09:15:00.001-08:00

I love listening to the discourse of 2 and 3 year olds! They have such an exuberance about every conversation.

I have one little boy, I'll call him J, who is definitely more comfortable in the company of adults. He is very verbal with adults, freely talking about everything he did yesterday, the toys he has at home, what he's going to do later, etc, etc. However, he almost never converses with the other boys his age. Instead choosing to ask me what they are saying, or tell me what they said.

This morning, he came to ask me what M was talking about. I hadn't heard the conversation, so I called the M over to explain what he had said. Apparently he had been talking to his best friend about doing somersaults. I asked the J if he could do somersaults, and he said no. I asked him if he wanted to learn, and to have the other boys show him, which they were only too happy to do.

Then they all did somersaults for a while, with J running along behind copying what the older boys were doing.

But the funniest part of the whole thing was listening to their conversation.

M: "R! Did you see that?

R: "Yeah."

M, in a high-pitched voice: "Did you see that?"

R: "Look what I can do, M!"

There was much more interesting discourse that has since slipped my mind. It got even more interesting when the 3 year old girl jumped into the conversation. It's fun to hear the serious conversation of a 3 year old!

Thesis Writing

2009-11-06T08:00:00.001-08:00

I'm on the verge of having the words to write the last part of the research section of my thesis. It should have been done by last Monday, but I didn't have the words then. I think I might now.

I'm not sure why this part has been so much more difficult for me. The first part was really general, a commentary of why art is beneficial to children in the classroom, and in what way art broadens the mind and teaches something the three "R's" cannot.

The second part was targeting a younger age group (like my group) and more specifically about play. A little more specific topic than "art", but still a general argument for play, referencing studies that have been done throughout the last century on the benefit of play.

My intention for the third, and last, section that I'm writing now is more specific, to give detail on WHY play is beneficial, what the children learn through play, and why it is a valid preschool curriculum. I am arguing that play, given the right materials and environment, can be MORE educational than teaching the alphabet and numbers to a three-year-old, without actually denouncing academic programs.

I don't want to start an argument with the rather large segment of the population that believes that if children learn their alphabet at three, they can learn to read at four, and be reading at a fifth grade level by six. Every child is different, and I'm sure there are some that flourish in this environment. I am trying to present an alternative to rushing children into something they may not be ready for, and explain why it is just as good, if not better, for the child to wait. And play.

This information is something I've searched for (although not ferociously), for the last three years or so. I've learned a lot about developmentally appropriate methods of teaching young children in the various child development classes I've taken since getting into this field. More compellingly, I've heard many experts with incredible credentials talk about the brain development in young children, and how they need certain experiences in order to develop the the ABILITY to read and write.

With all the time I've spent learning something that isn't readily available to the average parent, I'd like to write something FOR parents that easily and convincingly explains what I've learned, backed by "experts" that will hopefully balance out the peer pressure that parents get to have the best, smartest, most talented, exceptional student.

However, because I have specific goals in mind for this section, it seems more difficult to achieve just the right materials. I've been fishing around for a while at trying to explain the collection of evidence I've heard from many different sources without really being able to succinctly compile a compelling argument. It sounds so logical and clear when I hear it, but it somehow gets jumbled and incoherent when I try to pass it on.

I think that's why I've been having such a difficult time writing this section. I want it to be JUST SO, and am scared I won't be able to get across what I want to. Anyway, I'll never know until I try so I guess I should stop writing here, and beginning writing there!

Waldorf Education

2009-11-04T05:39:00.000-08:00

I have to say, again, how much I appreciate Waldorf education.

This year my son got his first "grades" teacher. In Waldorf training, kindergarten teachers go through a completely different specialization process than grades teachers, and the Waldorf method treats these ages very differently. Going into the "grades" is a big deal. Ideally, his first grade teacher will be his teacher through 8th grade.

Last year my son's teachers made his second year of kindergarten amazing. If you read my previous Waldorf posts, you know how much I loved his teachers last year.

This year... not so much. Since this school is a public charter, their first priority when hiring a new teacher is a California credential, then any Waldorf training as a bonus. If the teacher does not have both (which is likely), the school contributes to the cost of sending the teacher to Waldorf teacher training. Most of the credentialed teachers at this school are still going through some phase of their Waldorf training.

The teacher that had been originally hired to fill this spot came from another Waldorf charter school in the bay area, had both her state credential and had completed her Waldorf training. She had been a teacher at that school for several years, and was well qualified. However, she changed her mind about leaving her old school about a month before school started, and the school was left scrambling (I believe) to find another teacher.

Anyway I hope that was why they chose this teacher. She has no Waldorf experience besides the two weeks of training they could squeeze in before school started, and has no classroom experience either! She was a substitute teacher in the public schools before landing this job.

From what I can see, she loves her job. I can't imagine a more fun environment to teach, but perhaps I'm biased.

However, I've had several negative experiences with her already. I don't know if it is merely because she's new to teaching and isn't yet comfortable with dealing with parents, but so far her "method" is to ignore me and hope I go away, from what I can tell.

Frankly, I'm just about there. My son can be difficult to deal with. He's active, smart, and confident (a lethal combination), which means he's paying attention when you think he's not, bored and distracting anyone around him when he's not engaged, and answering all the questions whether you want him to or not. Basically a lot of work. Knowing this, I've tried to be as involved as possible in order to make her job as easy as possible.

However, if she's not interested, I'm sure I can find other things to do. I'm just concerned that her methods, if not what he needs, could alienate him from the learning process I've tried so hard to teach him to enjoy.

All that said, whatever he thinks of her (and I don't really know) is not affecting his learning. He loves his school, and LOVES main lesson. This is where they get the bulk of their academic training. This large chunk of the morning is when they cover math, science, writing, learning the alphabet, and whatever else they are supposed to learn in first grade. However, they learn all this through storytelling and drawing, and so every lesson is weaved into a tale that the kids then illustrate and copy into their lesson books, which are the Waldorf equivalent of textbooks all through the grades.

Last year, I would ask him at the dinner table to tell me the story he'd heard that day. In kindergarten, the teachers tell the same story every day for two weeks. By the third telling he was so bored with it, I couldn't get him to even tell me what the story was called. I stopped trying to get him to tell me the story once I saw how much it bothered him.

This year the story is shorter, and a new one is told each day. I've gotten out of the habit of asking him at the dinner table, but last night he volunteered the information. He told us he's learning 12 stories about 12 knights that are on a quest to find the perfect number, and that although he didn't have time to tell me ALL the stories, he'd be happy to tell me two per night until I'd heard all twelve. I have to say, that makes me super happy!

The Flu...

2009-10-30T10:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was sick with the flu. It hit like a tornado. Crashed in, hit hard, and wiped me out, all within 24 hours.

Wednesday I had a bit of a sore throat and a runny nose. Nothing drastic. Wednesday evening I went to bed early with chills, layering on the blankets and trying to get warm. Yesterday morning I woke up barely able to get out of bed. My body ached all over. It felt like I'd gotten into the losing end of a fight and had been kicked a thousand times all over.

I called all the parents and told them I was closing for the day. I try not to do this often, as it is such a huge inconvenience for them. But I couldn't help it.

My son gets out of school early on Thursdays, so I asked my carpool buddy if she would do the pickup for me. He got home soon after 1:00 and immediately came up to see how I was doing. He asked me if he could make me some soup, so I said yes. He learned how to open a can of soup and work the microwave after the last time I was sick and he tried very hard to figure out the microwave. After that, he made it a point to know how to use that, and the can opener.

He asked me if I wanted anything on the side. I told him I'd like toast.

He came back in a few minutes later with the bowl of soup. "Wow. I forgot to cook it!" were his first words, so he went back downstairs to nuke it. He came back to say "27 seconds". That's how long he'd cooked it. Oh well, it's the thought that counts. I choked down the lukewarm canned soup happily. What a sweet boy. He came back with the toast. The toaster oven was apparently set on broil, because only the top had been toasted. The underside was still cold! He said the bottom one (heating coil) was broken.

So then he asked if there was anything else he could do. I asked him to start a bath for me, and put in some herbal salts I have for clearing the sinuses. He did that, then disappeared again. When the bath was full, I got in, and he came back with two bowls of fruit salad (his specialty). I asked him if he'd made himself the sandwich he had wanted, and he said no. He said he had been too busy cooking for me! What a guy.

Today I'm much better. Open for business again. And so proud of my sweet boy!

I have a dream...

2009-10-26T14:02:00.000-07:00

I am in the process of researching the next part of my master's thesis. This section is about the importance of play as an educational "curriculum" for early childhood education, and why it is important. I'm reading a lot of books. I haven't gotten yet to the point where I can start writing, which is causing a bit of panic (as it's due next Monday), but I am gaining some valuable lessons from the materials I've read so far.

Basically, I am trying to argue that children NEED uninhibited, unstructured play time, with the proper resources to develop their minds and bodies, in lieu of learning the alphabet and their numbers before the age of five. That the seemingly random play of childhood is working to grow the brain, build social skills, provide large and small motor activity to build strong bodies, and establish a means of working through the complexities of life in a non-threatening environment. Granted, play is important after five, but I'm arguing in favor of PLAYschools instead of PREschools.

Interestingly, the more I read, the more convinced I am that urban children, and my own in particular, are not getting what they need from their environment. Everything I have read tells me that my son doesn't have the necessary space, materials, and time to play like he should.

I went to visit a preschool in a nearby town, operated by a nationally renowned advocate of play, and almost wept at the possibilities and opportunities that most of the kids I know are missing out on. I wish I could provide this environment for even the kids in my care, but I am limited by space and carpet. I'm getting there, though. I'm adding things, little by little.

But not on the scale I'd love to see available to kids. Especially kids in these urban/suburban areas that don't get opportunity for uninhibited play. Either because they live on tiny lots, or because their "free" time is filled with structured activities they "need" to do, or because they aren't given the permission to get down and dirty, or any of the many reasons there are for busy parents, these kids are missing out.

I have a dream of offering something like this to kids in my neighborhood. Either on a small scale (a small preschool), or a large scale (full child care center), I want to give these kids an opportunity to play. One day, somehow, I'll make it happen. Hopefully before my son is too old to benefit from it.

Economic Woes...

2009-10-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

Now that the news people seem to think the economy is bouncing back and on the upswing, it has finally hit my town.

My husband's company just started with the pay cuts and layoffs that have been in effect elsewhere for some time. Granted, we were lucky they didn't start sooner. They definitely should have, they haven't been doing their best business for a while. Now it's hitting home.

To top that off my business has been receding over the last six months. I had several clients lined up to begin in the summer. This would have completely filled all of my available space. In this economy that was a surprise all in itself.

But for one reason or another, none of these contracts were fulfilled. Unfortunately, this is a cyclical business, and these contracts didn't fall through until after the "cycle" of calls that were coming. That meant that not only did the spots not get filled, but I also lost the opportunity to fill them from any of the other calls I received.

I had to effectively lay off my part time helpers. I didn't have the income to pay their wages. But I still had my full-time assistant. I worried that if I cut her hours that she'd be forced to find another job, and then she wouldn't be available when I need her. I had enough income to support her and me. I cut out every other expense to make this work.

Then I pissed off a client. A full time client, no less. This client had been with me for over a year, and this surprised me. It was over something relatively small, and usually these kinds of personality issues show up early.

Regardless, now I'm really feeling the pinch. I need to cut the hours of my full-timer, which leads to a dilemma of still needing her when I need to pick up after school kids, but not needing her in the morning. Her prospects of finding a morning-only job are limited.

I hear what everyone is saying about the improving economy, but I'm not seeing it. I guess we dodged the bad-economy bullet longer than most and are feeling the effects now.

I had an interesting thought the other day. We've been in this economic slump for basically a decade. We've had small ups and downs, but we really haven't experienced job security or opportunity for a while. I wonder what that means for our future.

Blogging...

2009-10-10T07:11:00.000-07:00

I have a list of blogs that I love to read. They are what got me thinking about starting one for myself in the first place. I was constantly feeling the need to RESPOND to what I had read, and though I did leave several comments, I felt like I could use a longer medium to voice my opinions. And boy, do I have lots of opinions!

I have a list of blogs that I've bookmarked that are business related. The things I'm interested in include finances, real estate, entrepreneurs, politics, out-of-the-box pastors, cooking, and freelance writing. That's not too much, is it?

Then I have a list of frugal shopping blogs. These are written by people consumed with saving more than a few dollars on their grocery bill, and/or know how to turn a frugal shopping trip into an even more frugal dinner for four. They keep track of every coupon, match them up with great sale prices at various stores, and tell their readers where to go to find the best deals on specific items. Cool.

And finally, I have my "personal interest" blogs. These are friends who also blog, and a great way to get a peek into their lives, especially those that live far away or I don't see often.

However, I haven't been reading much lately. Well, I haven't been reading the blogs that I bookmark. When I get a few minutes, I try to catch up on one friend at a time. Reading back to where I left off. But that's about it. I haven't read a frugal blog in months, and have let my own coupon shopping fall behind. I haven't read any of that other long list of blogs in much, much longer.

I read one this morning, though. Something about Gen-Y being the new wave of everything. One of the blogs I read is a collection of bloggers, open only to the twenty-somethings who have something to say about their career. It amuses me that at least half of the blogs published at this site include the term "Gen-Y". If they are Gen-Y, what am I? Gen-X? Gen-W? Was there a W? What were the Baby Boomers? Gen-P? And now they have a new term -- Millennials. Maybe they feared running out of alphabet, since they started with X!

Who thinks up these things? And why the overwhelming need to label absolutely everything?

It's especially amusing because I read such a broad spectrum of topics. Labels exist in every one. You should see the religious ones! They have "movements" now which are just as amusing. It takes some serious work to keep up with what each label refers to. Being so long away from THAT culture, I felt completely at a loss when I started reading. Now I just laugh.

Ha! I CAN still write! I just haven't been keeping up with the reason I had to write in the first place. I've had nothing to laugh at since I've been consumed with the Education of Young Children! That's my thesis. Maybe when it's done, I'll let you have a look!

Jamaica

2009-10-04T09:06:00.000-07:00

My husband and I got to go on vacation in September. We were away for a week in Jamaica. My sister and mother-in-law took turns with my son, which was an amazing gift, so we could enjoy a much-needed break away from work.

There's no way to adequately describe Jamaica. It is an awkward blend of poverty and wealth. All of the coastline is populated by large resorts, while on the other side of the highway that circles the island are the homes and shacks of the people that live there.

The highway is a new addition. We were there three years ago, and it was under construction. Much of the ride from the airport to the resort where we stayed was dirt road, and I remember everyone driving like maniacs. With the highway complete, it is more heavily patrolled, with established speed limits, so the ride to and from the airport was boring compared to last time!

Both times we have stayed at the Couples Sans Souci resort near Ocho Rios. There is no way to describe the tranquility and ambiance of this place. The ocean is warm and beautiful, and that strange green/blue color that is so foreign to those of us on the west coast. The people of Jamaica are so incredibly friendly and relaxed! Even the employees are not rushed to do their jobs, and work seems to be enjoyable.

I was sitting on the balcony of our room one morning watching the setting up of the lawn area for the gala that was planned that evening. I watched as the workmen brought in the structures that would cover the buffet tables, piece by piece. They'd bring in a pole, and hang out and chat with their friends, then bring in another pole. It literally took them all day to set up the area. They started before 7 am, for the dinner slated to begin at 7 pm. As I was watching, I thought that if their bosses saw them goofing off like that, they would be in so much trouble. But then, minutes after thinking that, there boss joined them on the lawn, chatting and laughing with them just as they had been doing without him!

And then it struck me... These people are not easy-going for the sake of the guests. This is how they are all the time! It is the culture of the country. And then I was envious! I tried to imagine what it would be like to live your life in slow motion, which is what it looked like to someone from California! Every job they did appeared enjoyable to them because they enjoyed themselves while doing it.

I thought about the cook at the beach grill that sang non-stop while preparing the food. Even when his co-worker laughed at him because I was staring so blatantly, he was unconcerned. He smiled at me and kept right on belting out every song on the stereo. It was so refreshing to see!

We chose to return to Sans Souci because of this atmosphere, although I don't think I recognized it the first time. It is so easy to relax in an environment where even the employees are relaxed! The whole purpose of this place is to relax in the sun without a care, and that is evident all day, every day. They have activities that you can sign up for, but there's no hurry, and no pressure.

We ended up spending the whole week at the pool. No activities, no clocks, no schedule. The only thing we needed to worry about was making it to dinner at our reservation time. We sunned, drank, socialized, and ate. That was vacation.

Too bad the effects don't seem to linger long enough!

Long time...

2009-10-02T14:19:00.000-07:00

I think it's time to write. I've missed writing. Have you missed me?

I've been thinking about why I haven't been blogging. I've concluded that I'm an addictive personality. I get into something and focus on it with all of my attention for however long it takes for me to feel like I've used it up, gotten as much as I can, learned all there is to learn.

I know I was excited about the blog when I began. I had a lot to say. I felt a release as I let go of the words. It relaxed and excited me at the same time. It relieved my stress.

But as the words dwindled, it felt forced. My writing wasn't as good as it should have been. It felt forced. Then I felt like it was just another something I had to do. So I stopped. Of all the things on my plate, this seemed the easiest to let go.

And then the absence itself was a deterrent. It felt like admitting the lapse to come back again. The longer between posts, the more embarrassing it was to start.

But I've realized that I need this. My stress level is way up and it's affecting my business. This is my outlet for all the things that bug me. I need to write in order not to let it eat me up.

But I don't always have something to say. Sometimes I go weeks without a coherent thought in my head. That's just how it goes. I'll write when I need to, not when I don't.

Thanks for listening.

Political Reform

2009-08-03T14:50:00.000-07:00

I know that political reform has been bandied about for a very long time. I also know the impossibility of true reform in politics. However, I'm sick of the political system as it stands right now.

How do average citizens like me change the monstrous and well-funded scam that our government has become? The thing that pisses me off is that the scam is funded by us, without our consent. If we have to finance the large, cumbersome, ineffective "management" system we call government, we should have a right to change it. I mean, in a corporation you may work for terrible management, but generally they are paying you to be there, not the other way around.

I can't believe there are enough people happy with the way things are to not have an effective move to change it.

I would expect my "representatives" to be intelligent, clear and concise, law-abiding, and at least somewhat interested in representing the people that elected them. Is it too much to ask that they not LIE to us? That they not be criminals, and are subject to the same laws that we are? That they hold the best interest of their country or state above their own self-interest?

How did we, as citizens, let it get this bad? How is it that those of us who do put the effort in to ask questions of our "representatives" have been satisfied with vague form letter responses that blow us off?

What I want is to be able to have a choice on who I elect to office. We need more than two worthless people to choose from. We have more than two parties in this country, there are usually more than two people on the ballot for any office, but the monopoly of the two large parties have left these options largely anonymous. Not only that, the "committees" choosing the two worthless people are not looking for someone who can benefit the country, but rather will further the committee's power.

At this point, I'd be happy if no one in office agreed with my point of view, if they could only formulate a clear, concise sentence that expressed their own views. Instead, in the interest of pleasing everyone and keeping their jobs, we get vague double-speak that says nothing.

So what can we do about it? How do average citizens who work, have families, and spend their extra time doing the things we enjoy, start a movement that is large enough, and effective enough to make a change?

Any large-scale change that has happened in this country has required a charismatic leader that spent all of his or her time out speaking to people. They effectively spent their lives to effect change, and even though some didn't see the change in their lifetimes, they were successful.

We now have the benefit of the internet. We have television. We can reach a lot of people with little expense. But people have been expressing discontent online for a while, and it has not galvanized people into doing anything effective. What more can be done? In the words of Lee Iacocca: Where have all the leaders gone?

Friends

2009-07-26T07:11:00.000-07:00

Over the last few years I have acquired several really good friends. I don't know how this happened, as I've never been able to make and keep many friends. My oldest friend has been my friend for 17 years now, and that alone boggles my mind. Granted, the first 7 of those years we were a couple, but still. That counts. She's still my friend, and that amazes me.

But recently I realized that I now have several friends that I consider to be close friends. Some have been, or are, clients, and for that I am very grateful. To create a lasting friendship out of a business relationship has been very rewarding. Others are from my bible-study group, and the nature of the group has turned an unlikely group of women into an incredibly tight and trusting group of friends.

Facebook has introduced me to several new friends. Some new, and some renewing of old friendships. These have been exciting and heartwarming.

That doesn't include the friendships I've made in past jobs. These are fewer, but no less important.

I've always been good at casual flirtation, but have never really mastered the art of deep, close friendships. However, recently I received a surprising call late one night to come help a friend who was distraught. I immediately got up and went to her. I ended up staying the night, and coming home in the morning, since it was a work day. Driving home I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she'd called ME!

That thought got me thinking about all of the really good friends I have. I am truly blessed. I feel slightly guilty because I don't spend as much time as I would like with any of them, and inevitably I've fallen out of contact with some. As I scramble to keep in touch, my focus changes from one to another. I don't know how to hold everyone in my thoughts at the same time.

Making and keeping friends was a lesson I missed when I was young and moving around all of the time. We never stayed anywhere long enough to make it worth the effort. This new discovery strikes me with awe and wonder and I am truly grateful. Friendships truly add the color to a black and white life.

Depressed...

2009-07-24T07:13:00.000-07:00

I've been in a slump lately. I've always struggled with cyclical depression, and I guess its my time. I've been blah. I don't have the luxury of staying in bed all day, but I do the next best thing. I'm doing only as much as I need to do to get by. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything is just a few days behind schedule, a little sloppier than it should be.

Hence the lack of posts. For the last couple of months I haven't had it in me to write unless I absolutely feel compelled to. Even then, I've let half of those slip away.

I've been down the anti-depressant route. I've tried a few, settling on the one with the least side affects. I took that for a little over a year before letting it go. It didn't have bad side affects, but it didn't seem to be making much of a difference either. I don't think anyone really noticed when I stopped taking them, so I guess they weren't as effective as they should have been.

I don't know why I get into these slumps. I keep telling myself I don't have time for them. I have so much on my plate, and adding more every day. I work with kids, and they are the ones that lose when I don't feel like doing all the fun stuff that makes the day interesting for them.

I really don't know how to combat this. I feel like I'm watching myself being glum and sour, and telling myself to snap out of it, but without the desire to really do anything more. I feel like I'm letting my life slip through my fingers in large chunks. What a waste.

Disneyland

2009-07-16T09:29:00.000-07:00

I just came back from a long weekend at Disneyland. I went with my son, and his girlfriend and her mom. My son's birthday was last Monday, and his girlfriends was this last Sunday, so it was kind of a combined birthday trip for both of them.

It's about an 8 hour drive south from my home, and I have a friend who lets me crash at her house in Modesto, which cuts about 1.5 hours off of the drive on the way down. I have to say, even 6 hours in a car is a long drive. And my son talks non-stop. And his girlfriend appreciates peace and quiet... So you get an idea of how the drive went! At one point, she started meditating in the car, and stayed like that for at least an hour!

It was supposed to be a "surprise" for the kids, but after 5 hours heading south, they pretty much guessed where we were going. It was still fun. They were still thrilled to be in Disneyland!

It was a fun-filled, sleep-deprived weekend! We crammed so much into the hours we had. It was a typical Disneyland weekend, but with the added benefit of sharing it with two girls that LOVED every moment. I have to say that it was fun to watch them having a good time. Especially the mom, who was so over the top excited!

And one little girl got the added bonus of being in Disneyland on her birthday! She was treated like a princess all day! Granted, the day only lasted until 4pm when we had to pile back into the car and drive 8 hours to get home in time to show up for work Monday morning! But still. I've never been in Disneyland on my birthday!

What a great weekend!

Living Life...

2009-07-08T17:16:00.001-07:00

It always amuses me when I hear someone blaming their childhood for how their life turned out. Life is a choice. You can choose to live or you can choose to just exist.

I get that you may have had the cards stacked against you. Your parents may have been losers, or you may not have had parents at all. You may have been surrounded all your life with people who were just existing, and you may think that's all that's possible for you. That's your choice. You can't blame your parents for that.

Living is hard. No one ever said it was easy. Some people just don't have the knack, if you know what I mean. They are the ones that see the glass half empty, that think everyone's out to get them, that the government owes them something. You can't help those people. They are so far removed from living they don't know that what they are doing isn't it.

Then there are those lucky ones that just get it, and don't even have to try. They are the ones that go through life exuberant, loving every moment, and taking advantage of every opportunity with abandon. They just know they are alive, and you can't help but watch them move through it with stark adoration, or you just want to shoot them for making it look so easy.

And then there's the rest of us. We know the choice exists, but it's a choice we have to make every day. In the middle of washing dishes, mowing the lawn, cleaning out the garage, we have to consciously stop whining and thank our lucky stars that we have dishes, a lawn, a garage. No, thanking isn't the right word. We ENJOY the fact that we have those things.

But more importantly, when an opportunity shows up that we actually recognize, in the moment, as an opportunity, we're the ones that have to consider the wisdom of pursuing it. Instead of jumping in with both feet as would the natural-born livers, we weigh the odds, discuss the pros and cons, and tentatively stick our toe in. About half of the time, we manage to step through that proverbial window in time. For the most part though, the window gets slammed shut with our toe still in it.

That's the rest of us. Cautiously living. Squinting into the sunlight.

Birthday Massage

2009-07-06T08:24:00.000-07:00

Friday, June 26th, was my birthday.

One of the incredibly nice things my husband got me for my birthday was a massage with a friend who has been doing our massages for many years. Although we both had used her services regularly in the past, I haven't gotten a massage in quite a while.

It was the best massage I've ever gotten. I don't know what has changed in the intervening years, but this massage actually felt relaxing and nice, as opposed to the torture device it had been in the past. As I was groggily laying on the table, I was thinking about how good it felt, and how relaxed and quiet I was. That got me thinking about previous massages. Like I said, my masseuse is a friend of many years, and I haven't seen her in quite a long time. We should have had so much to catch up on. I should have been talking non-stop!

I thought about massages in the past where the 60 minutes seemed to fly by because we got started on an animated discussion that wasn't nearly complete by the time the massage was over. I considered the quiet and reflective place I must be in to not have anything to say, so I told her how good this massage was feeling.

She laughed. Apparently, she was contemplating the same thing as I was, but along slightly different lines! She was thinking about how still I was being and commented on the difference. When I said "animated discussion" I truly meant animated! She laughed about how she didn't have to chase my limbs around the table because I would pop up suddenly to say this or that, or fling my arms around to punctuate a point.

I couldn't help but laugh. These are the details of life that one so easily forgets! Having her remind me made me realize just how impossible it had been to get a relaxing massage when I never quieted down enough to enjoy it. I've come a long way, baby!

Computer Issues...

2009-07-04T08:33:00.000-07:00

My computer has been in the shop for a week. I can't begin to tell you how painful that was! It felt like I was missing a limb and feeling phantom pains. I kept wandering around feeling like I was forgetting to do something. So strange.

The worst part about the whole thing was that I intentionally scheduled the service during the time I was going to be on vacation for a long weekend. My husband and I went to Calistoga for a short vacation last weekend. We left first thing Saturday morning, and returned late Tuesday evening. I took my computer in to the Apple store Friday morning, knowing I would be leaving it, anticipating that four days would be plenty of time for them to do whatever it is they needed to do.

Friday without the computer was weird, but as I was out running errands all morning, it was only weird once I got home. I thought about this blog, and the people I chat with daily, and remembered that I had forgotten to let anyone know I was going to be incognito for a while. Oops.

Saturday was great. We drove to Calistoga, which is approximately a two hour drive, checked into the room at the bed & breakfast, and commenced with our plan of relaxing by the pool for four days. I pulled out the first of the five books I had brought to read and set out to soak up the sun.

By Sunday I was definitely feeling an itch in an unknown location. There was nothing I NEEDED to see online, but I was definitely feeling distanced. I borrowed my husband's laptop, which he had faithfully brought with him on vacation, and quickly checked Facebook. It didn't appear that I was missing too terribly much, so I logged off and went back to sunning. Later in the day I snuck back in to write a little piece in my personal journal that I will publish here later.

Monday was distracting. We had met two very nice couples who were also staying there for the pleasure of laying by the pool, and we had great conversations. I had finished two and a half books and had actually been loaned one by one of our new friends. My tan was progressing nicely, and the weather was divine. The pool felt great, just the right temperature to cool off from the blistering sun, but not warm enough to stay in for long. This was bliss, but I was restless. Shouldn't I be doing something? I mean, it's Monday. There should be work. It's month-end, that always means paperwork.

Whatever. I let it go. I was on vacation. I thought about a friend I recently reconnected with on Facebook that commented that I was cool, except that I spent too much time on the computer. (I may be paraphrasing there.) I went back to reading and sunning.

Tuesday was our last day. We had planned to check out after breakfast but then hang out by the pool until early afternoon. The owners of this B&B are really relaxed, and have no problem with the guests staying as long as they want to the day of checkout as long as they can clean the room for the next guests. I ask them when we need to be out of the room, and they told me they didn't have anyone coming into that room until the following day, so we had all day. It's easy to keep coming back here.

By Tuesday I'd definitely gotten enough sun. My skin was pink and tender, and I had progressed to being under the umbrella with sunscreen. I had finished four of the five books I'd brought, as well as the one borrowed. I started the final book, and it wasn't nearly as interesting as the previous ones. I've begun to think about all the things I need to have completed by the end of the week, since Tuesday was the last day of June.

I finally gave up trying to read and went inside to start packing. We had planned to leave by 3pm to get home in time to pick up our son and give the grandparents a break. However, just about then my husband got hit with a stomach bug and spent the next few hours within feet of the toilet. At this point I was beginning to think we might have to stay another night and leave early the next morning, but after a few hours he felt like he could make it home. We only had to stop a couple of times for bathroom breaks on the way, but luckily we missed most of the rush hour traffic.

Wednesday was a light work day and I had time and opportunity to pick up my computer. I called the Apple store as soon as they opened, but when they checked the status, it wasn't done. They had received the necessary parts, and hoped to have it completed by the end of the day, but they would definitely call me. At that point I started panicking. It was the first of the month. I had a short window of time to get month-end paperwork submitted, time cards turned into the accountant, and the calendar of invoices prepared for clients that pay at the beginning of the month. I decided that if I pick it up after work, I would still have lots of time in the evening to get all of that done. I spent the day updating all of the children's files. This is all manual work that I've been putting off for a year because I have always had the computer as a distraction. I got through all of the completely handwritten paperwork that is required by the state.

I called again at the end of the day. It still wasn't done. Maybe Thursday. Ugh!

Thursday I HAVE to have it back. It's the second day of the month, and everything was due by the third. However, I also had a full house and couldn't leave. I called the Apple store when they opened, and sure enough, it was done and ready to be picked up. Go figure. I asked my husband to pick it up at lunch, but then he wouldn't get home until 6pm.

When he handed it over that evening, I was like an alcoholic getting a long, sweet taste after a drought. I'm a junkie.

I can't begin to tell you how good it feels to be back online! I'm terribly sorry you have to be a part of my problem, but I have to admit to missing you terribly. Even when I'm not writing I read your blogs, I check your status, I feel connected. What did we ever do before the internet?!?

My husband thinks I'm attractive...

2009-06-20T22:10:00.000-07:00

I don't think I said that quite right.

My husband thinks I'm totally hot and sexy. I know that sounds... well, I'm not sure how it sounds. But I thought it was worth writing about.

We've been married for almost 10 years. And I'm enough older than he is, that it matters. Not a few months, or even a few years. Thankfully, not a decade, but still. Enough that it matters. And age matters more to women than men anyway.

For a man, getting older means being wiser, more experienced, distinguished. In a culture that surrounds women with the idea that the most important thing is how we look, and more specifically, that we always look young, age tends to be hard. Women spend a lot of time and money on appearance. Even for those, like me, that don't get sucked into all of that, I still think about it. I still put a little effort into putting on make-up once in a while, dressing well once in a while, trying to stay thin.

But even still, I can't think of a better compliment to a woman than to be considered incredibly hot by the same person for 10 years or more. It's easy to be attractive to strangers. I clean up pretty well, I can turn on the charm, I can flirt with the best of them. But to be continually attractive to the guy that sees me first thing in the morning, when I'm being bitchy, when I haven't showered in days, when I'm sitting on the toilet... that's incredible.

I'm incredibly lucky. And sexy. ;-)

Memorial Day Weekend

2009-06-14T07:34:00.000-07:00

Over the Memorial Day weekend I went to Phoenix. I took an extra day off of work so I could be there four days with the intent of doing a "Clean House" intervention for a friend. I had stayed one night at her house in April when I flew down to repossess my nephew's car. I told her then I would be coming back to help her. Her house was a disaster.

I need to give a little background on this friend. I met her in the mid 90's (I'm not exactly sure what year) when she was hired into the company I worked for. We worked closely for at least a year before I got another job and moved on. She moved to Phoenix soon after to accept a job offer there. We would take turns visiting back and forth between Phoenix and here in the years since then.

She is the type of person that would give you the shirt off of her back if you had a need and she had nothing else. It is her nature to help anyone who needs help, even if it means she goes without. This tendency has hurt her more often than not, as she attracts the kind of people that will take advantage of her, and leave nothing in return.

This was my opportunity to do something for her. I arrived on a late Friday flight, and she picked me up from the airport. She had waited to eat until I arrived, in case I hadn't eaten, even though it was already 9pm, so we stopped to eat before going to her house. When we finally got to her house, we started a load of laundry.

This is why she needed the intervention: half of her formal living room was heaped with dirty laundry, the other half was heaped with Christmas stuff. She didn't use her formal living room, as her home has a family room, and therefore there was basically just a pathway from the garage door through the room. The rest of her house looked very similar.

She gave me her bedroom to stay in, while she slept on the couch during my stay. There was no space in her room for me to set my suitcase down on the floor, so first thing (6 am) Saturday morning I started on that room. I woke her at 8 am to start cleaning out her shoes. She had well over a hundred, and many I knew she couldn't be still wearing, as she buys the same shoe in every color they release. There were plenty that were various shades of the same color.

I woke her adult son who is living with her at 9 am to start on the garage. I had decided to install shelving in her garage to house all of the Christmas stuff, but when I arrived I noticed a row of boxes along that wall stacked half-way to the ceiling. I tasked him to go through those and determine what was in them. Amazingly he found a 386 cpu tower that was almost waist tall, and the matching monitor, complete with the five separate inputs for RGB (and I'm not sure what the other 2 are). Along with that dinosaur were boxes and boxes of miscellaneous paper (mail, photos, cards, tax documents, notes, receipts, etc.).

By the end of the first day, we had purchased shelving to hang on the garage walls which her son installed, done approximately 12 loads of laundry, gotten her bedroom completely cleaned out and the spare bedroom half done, purchased shoe racks for her closet, put everything that was still in her closet in a goodwill bag, since she obviously wasn't wearing it or it wouldn't be clean!

On the second day we had purchased 4 bookshelves, 4 cd towers, and a ton of bins to store all the many things that were piled on the floor everywhere. She had more than enough books in the house to fill two of the bookshelves, and then boxes of books in the garage.

By the third day, we had made a large enough dent in the laundry to be able to sort the remainder into loads, the Christmas stuff was fully contained (gathered from every conceivable hiding place all over the house) and stored on the garage shelving, her hobbies and unfinished projects had been sorted into bins and put into appropriate spaces, and the 2-car garage was full of either recyclable trash or garage sale items. We had made a sizable dent, but I was beginning to worry that we wouldn't finish by the end of the fourth day. We still had all of her beadwork (she designs jewelry), and her office to get to.

On my final day, I sorted through boxes of paper, cleaned out closets, finished the miscellaneous unfinished projects, and did laundry. I never did get to the office or the beads, but I did set her up with instructions on how to continue! We didn't make it to goodwill, but she promised to take everything once she'd held her garage sale.

All in all, it was a very productive weekend. The best thing about the weekend is that I came home with a renewed desire to clear my own space of clutter. It is going much more slowly, but I'm doing it. Just cleaning off the bar in the kitchen has given me a tremendous sense of peace! I'm determined to have a space for everything or it is going out. In July I'll have my own garage sale and goodwill run!

All throughout the weekend, all I could think about was Peter Walsh. If you don't know who he is, he does this kind of thing for a living. Going into disastrously cluttered homes and throwing out, selling, sorting, and organizing everything into usable living space. After four straight days, all I could think was HOW DOES HE DO IT?? You have to have a real love of organizing, I think, to do this every day, for people who want to have a clean space but are unwilling to part with anything! I have to hand it to him!

Workout Update

2009-06-11T14:46:00.001-07:00

This is one of the updates that I promised in my recent post. Primarily because my trainer read the initial post, and took issue with the negative tone! Every time he comes he reminds me that I need to update everyone and be more positive!

So, I am still working out. I am definitely not working out as much as he would like, as I am supposed to be exercising between visits, independent of his supervision. However, I know I am not good at that. I promised my son that I would do some serious bike riding with him this summer, and I will keep my word. I have been waiting for him to get big enough and confident enough on his bicycle that we could ride a good distance. Now, however, he is way beyond me in ability! At 6, he's riding 10 miles each way to and from school a couple times a week. I doubt that I could do that distance in my current sorry state!!

I will be picking that up again, however. That is something I truly enjoyed doing, and something I miss. I loved riding my bike around town on the weekends. I look forward to being able to do that again with him. It will require me to scale back on weekend planning, which will also be good for me. There are plenty of things I want to do with him that will require planning, and time.

That said, I am currently working out with my trainer about 2 times per week for an hour. We have been doing that since the beginning of March, and I do notice a difference. I have not lost the belly pouch that was my goal from the beginning, but I am stronger, and feel better, than I have in quite a long time. I can see the improvement in just how much and how long I can do the tasks he gives me to do. Even though he works me until I feel like I'm going to drop, and can't lift an arm or leg a single more time, I know I lifted/pushed/worked many more reps with much more weight than would ever have been possible when I started.

I'm still slightly sore after every work out, which is something I take to be a good sign. It feels like I'm working hard if I'm sore. It feels like I'm pushing myself. I think that's good. I like pushing myself. I've gotten complacent in the past few years, and pushing is good. In whatever form it comes.

Ultimately, I've improved. My trainer swears he can tell a difference in the shape of my arms and legs. I can't say that I agree, because the only area that I've ever given any attention to is my belly, and that isn't changing much. However, I choose to believe him because I feel strong. That has to come from somewhere, right?

Disorganization...

2009-06-07T08:51:00.000-07:00

I admit that I am not the most organized person I know. I try, and my failings frustrate me severely, but I wing it as often as not. I especially hate it when I am not well enough organized in my business to know exactly where I stand at all times. Friday, I beat myself up for 3 hours because I missed an opportunity to make money and help out a mother in need of a day off, simply because I had not written down in the RIGHT place that one of my kids was out on vacation. Grrrr....

Last night I went with a friend to the grand opening of a local bar/lounge. Apparently, they were holding a karaoke contest yesterday evening, and she wanted to sing. It was a good idea, as she won first place!

However, the disorganization of the staff was driving me crazy. The owner apparently had not planned for much of a crowd because he had only 2 servers working and 3 bartenders. The two servers were serving well over 100 people all night, while the owner looked on doing nothing. I could see that no one at the tables were getting any kind of service, and many ended up going to the bar themselves to get their own drinks because the service was useless.

As I watched, I was getting more and more frustrated. Not because I was waiting, because I wasn't actually ordering anything, so it didn't affect me directly, but because it was OPENING NIGHT! How do you expect to keep your business going in a tough economy if you can't make a good impression on your first day!! I'd be amazed if even a fraction of the customers that were there last night go back for another try. It is likely that most of those would tell their friends and family about the experience and influence that many more people NOT to try it.

Yet the owner seemed largely unconcerned about the chaos that was occurring. At one point I approached him and suggested that he needed more servers. Had I been a little braver, I would have told him to give me a shirt, and I would help! His response was lost in the noise of the band and an accent I couldn't understand. However, what I could catch of his answer was pretty close to a shrug-off.

I am always interested in the rise and fall of businesses. What makes one work when another very similar venture fails miserably? How do some restaurants and bars hang on for decades when they seem to have only a slight stream of customers, where others that seem so popular and packed on the weekends, crash and burn in a short period of time?

This bar is this man's second attempt at this same location. It is interesting that he didn't learn anything from his previous experience here. I guess time will tell.

Blogging...

2009-06-06T07:16:00.000-07:00

I apparently needed a break. For the last month or so I have done absolutely nothing. I have been holding still for a while. Well, that's not entirely true. I have been doing nothing productive.

I haven't written here in quite a while, and then only sporadically. I find that I miss it a lot. I can see a difference in my behavior when I write here consistently. It's as if by writing out even the most mundane things I am thinking about, I am freed from stewing on them, and can be a little more lighthearted. Writing about the something that really bothers me allows me to let it go and move on.

I love that you read and respond to my rambling. I apologize for the sometimes worthless subject material!

All in all, I am more relaxed and organized in my mind when I am consistent here. I find that intriguing and disturbing!

My moratorium has not been for lack of subject material. There have been plenty of times I've wanted to write. I want to write about my weekend in Phoenix. I want to update on previous posts (workout, raffle). I want to tell you about spending a day with my son at his school, and my monthly menu. (OK. I'm using you as a reminder. I admit it.)

Other things I've neglected include summer studying for my thesis project, reading the blogs I love to keep up with, my crazy grocery pricing study and budget, my finances! ugh, and my business paperwork.

Instead of all of those things that need to be done, I've been reading for no reason other than my personal pleasure. Granted, I have three books in process and none of them are particularly pleasurable, but still. I'm reading them just because. I have been playing mafia wars on facebook. Is that ever a mindless time suck! I almost hate to admit to it. But, every moment can't be productive, right? Right? Ok, don't answer that!

I have to admit that I need these little mind breaks. I think the end of the school semester triggered this one. The last couple weeks of school were spent in frantic writing to complete the semester's assignments, and the next couple of weeks have been a super long exhale!

Interestingly enough, I've been more present with my daycare kids of late, which is good for them, and good for me. I have spent some time since returning from Phoenix organizing and simplifying my house. I have quite a pile growing in my garage in preparation for a garage sale.

After three years of "wanting" I finally broke down and bought the closet organizer for the kid's nap room and got all of my business paperwork, supplies, spare kids clothing, blankets, sheets, packages of diapers and wipes neatly arranged in the closet instead of piled on the floor and desk! It's made an amazing difference.

I guess I haven't been completely still. But I will get back to this for a while! I miss you!

Words...

2009-05-16T06:42:00.001-07:00

As I woke up this morning, in that space where my mind has kicked in and started churning the things that need doing today, but before my eyes can open, I was thinking about words. Well, I was thinking about the little girl's birthday party we're going to this morning and the fact that I always gift books. And somehow it jumped from that to adult illiteracy!

I was wondering what it would be like to live in a world excluded from words, and how that would affect every part of life. I'm sure illiteracy isn't as big of a problem in this country as it is in others (I'm speculating), but I know it still exists here, because I've seen commercials on the subject.

Think what that would be like! I couldn't write my thoughts to you, and you couldn't read them. I wouldn't be able to check out your doings in Facebook or blogs (oh my!). I couldn't read the newspaper, or read street signs while driving. I couldn't read nutrition labels, or warning labels, or instructions.

Imagine how that would put me at the mercy of those around me. Could I hold a job if I couldn't fill out an application or sign an employment contract? Not being able to read contracts, would I be scammed at every turn?

And how would I pay bills?

I'm sure there are so many other ways I would be affected that I can't even fathom. I know it would be possible to get through life without knowing how to read. It could even be possible to hide the fact that I couldn't. But what a lonely and isolated space to live!

My son is finally showing interest in learning to read. Last year's kindergarten experience probably set him back quite a bit in this area, and I've tried hard not to push him. He's almost seven. By the time I was his age I was firmly and completely lost in the world of words. He is surrounded by books in this house. I have bookshelves stuffed everywhere, and most of them are overflowing. And that doesn't even count the books I read and trade on paperbackswap, those books are kept in boxes.

He watches me chat with friends online. And he's especially interested when I'm chatting with his dad or grandma. He wants to type to them too, and I like watching him try to figure out how words should be spelled. I don't usually correct him because I don't want to color his experience with negativity, but it's interesting to me that he can read a word well, but turn around and write it completely different. It's interesting how those two things don't seem to connect in his brain.

I wonder what it would be like to not be given this opportunity to explore words. How do you get to adulthood without knowing how to read? Does it require ignoring everything in school, or is it from not attending school at all?

Words are such a consuming part of my life, I wonder what it would be like without them.

Being Female

2009-05-10T07:40:00.000-07:00

Jeff McQ has again astonished me with his insight into this issue on his blog. After reading his post, I wanted to talk about my feelings on this point. Granted, I will say right now that this is from MY perspective, and may not be how you feel. But to be honest, this topic has shaped my life, and who I am, so I appreciate the opportunity to tell my story, and the people who are beginning to listen.

I recognized a difference in the treatment of men and women from an early age. I've never felt like I had the same opportunities that I would have had were I a man. I never once felt I could be "whatever I wanted to be." I grew up resenting my brothers for their blatant wasting of their advantage. I worked hard, studied hard, played by all the rules, just to be given the chance to prove myself competent.

I watched my mother accept her role as a servant to her husbands because she felt that that was her place. I listened to her teach that lesson to my older sister and I. I rebelled against this, determined not to subjugate myself to men. Having five brothers who did not carry the same responsibility or have the same expectations set for them, I felt the unfairness first hand. Why should I serve them, just because they were born with a penis?

As I've said before, much of this was cultural, and some was religious influence.

Early in my life I felt disdain for everything feminine. I viewed the female role as weak, and vowed to fight it everywhere I could. I decided young that I would never have children. Having children was a definite disadvantage. Having ultimate responsibility for a child automatically put the woman into a less respectable role. I sensed the feeling to be that a woman's place was in the home with the babies, and therefore she could not be trusted to be objective in other decisions.

This opinion was reinforced when I entered the workforce. Everyone talks about the inequality of pay. I believe we are making strides in that direction. However, the inequality goes much further than pay. It is much more insidious in the subtle exclusions, the slightly condescending tones, the delegation of tasks that the men consider unworthy. And all of this is reinforced when a working woman has children.

Of course women have the right to maternity leave to go have babies, but when I worked in the office, I could hear the contempt when men spoke of this "time off". I also watched the erosion of her position while she was out. And if she chose to extend her time at home with her baby, the feeling of "taking time off" was only amplified. Never was it viewed as important that she spend what time she could with her newborn. It was always about the inconvenience of her time away and the fact that fathers did not get this time off. (Family leave for men is a relatively new idea, and I've been out of the workplace long enough that I cannot justly say how this has changed the atmosphere surrounding maternity leave.)

And this continues to be an issue when it is predominantly the mother who takes time off for sick children, or doctor's appointments, or school scheduling.

I know, I know. This isn't true for everyone. I also know that it is becoming much more in fashion to have involved fathers who take their turns with this. But I now watch kids for a living. I know who to be call when a child is sick. I see who is taking the time off to come pick that child up.

I can relate to Jeff's comments about being more masculine in the workplace. I tried very hard to do all the right things. Then, I left to have my own son. I knew the moment that I decided to get pregnant that I was making a mistake. Soon after returning from maternity leave I was laid off.

This was 2003. People were getting laid off all over. Finding work was not easy, and I tried branching into other fields. After a couple of poor employment choices I started my childcare.

It was humiliating for me to be pregnant. It was like I was admitting that everyone was right, and there is nothing else for women than this. Even though I know this isn't true, it feels like I must prove myself every day in a man's world.

I hope, for the sake of the next generation of girls, that it doesn't continue to be this way. Thank you Jeff, for letting me have my say. And oh! Happy Mother's Day.

Entitlement

2009-05-07T08:26:00.000-07:00

I find that I'm getting quite exhausted with the sense of entitlement that seems to abound today. Maybe I see more of it because of the area in which I live, but I think I'm getting too old to be tolerant of it.

This rant got started on my way home from school last night. I'm a fast driver. I'm not the fastest on the road, but I know I drive faster than the speed limit. I get so frustrated with people driving in the fast lane, going five miles an hour over the speed limit, who think they should not move over for the line of traffic piling up behind them.

I used to think it was just their being rude. I could see them thinking, "I'm going over the speed limit. I SHOULD be in the fast lane." And they would be completely clueless, or just pissed off if I went around them on the right. (Yes, I know that's technically illegal.)

So I would think, "where did they learn to drive? Did they miss the lesson on slower traffic moving right?"

But tonight I came to the realization that it's more likely a sense of entitlement. I think people just don't care. They are driving. They feel entitled to drive wherever and however they want, regardless of how it might impact anyone around them.

And driving isn't the only thing. The entitlement reaches into every inch of people's lives. Kids think they are entitled to everything they see on tv, adults think they are entitled to everything their neighbors have, everyone thinks they are entitled to a retirement whether they plan for it or not.

I know those are general statements, and may not necessarily apply to YOU, but why do you think we (as a country) are busy bailing businesses out for failing, over-paying union workers, "stimulating" the economy with taxpayer money, giving mortgage "relief" to people who can't pay their mortgages so they can keep a home they can't afford, and on and on...

Does this bother anyone else?

I'm finally excited...

2009-05-05T06:25:00.000-07:00

... about the possibilities in this master's program.

Let me back up. I don't know how much I've said about this program. It's a Master's in Education with an emphasis on Art in Education. Well, not being a teacher, nor having any interest in being a teacher, the education part of it was a dubious choice. But I am in childcare, and technically that is the educating of very young children, so although it's a stretch, it qualifies.

I do enjoy teaching/training, although not for school-aged kids. So, another justification for the program was the potential to use it to get into a corporate training position. I have worked in the software industry, and my first love, the reason for my undergraduate degree, was to implement and train corporations in the use of ERP software. I have done some of that in the past, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I have a knack for getting into everyone's business, learning what they do, and applying it to the big picture of a company. An ERP system is a multi-module software for manufacturing firms that essentially centralize all the information from the various working departments of a company into a single database. The first time I went through an implementation it was amazingly fun to learn how to use every part of the software, apply that to what I knew of how every department worked, and then teach them how to best use the software to benefit the whole company.

So, I figured a master's in education would give me the necessary edge to get back into the corporate world after a 5-7 year hiatus in childcare.

The emphasis on art has been difficult. I am not an artist. I am not even a budding artist! I have no natural talent at any artistic thing. I have a logical, problem-solving mind that can be assigned a project and can try to figure out how to accomplish the solution. Which may (in the case of my quilting projects) be construed as artistic, but is actually mostly puzzle work and problem solving!

So when it came time to find a "pathway" for my thesis project, I was really scared. The options were: 1) myself as an artist developing/learning/journaling the acquisition of a new art form, 2) myself as an artist journaling/narrating how I apply this art in my classroom, 3) myself as a teacher developing a curriculum that incorporates art into the classroom, 4) myself as a teacher doing teacher research on how to collect and collate data to support curriculum change, or 5) advocacy.

We discussed these pathways on the first night of class. We discussed them again the first night of the second semester. We are now at the end of the second semester in a five semester program, and just now getting into what those pathways mean. I'm sure a large proportion of the class knew immediately what which pathway they were going to choose. After all, almost everyone in this cohort is a teacher, and at least twenty percent of those are art/music/drama/dance teachers.

Not being a teacher, nor an artist, I was very scared. Of the five pathways, all I could see as a possibility was advocacy. However, every time the discussion on pathways happened in class, the instructors would start with pathway one, work their way to five, then with all the interruptions and questions, by the time she'd get to five, it would be "advocacy is about trying to make a change in leadership or policy. There probably aren't many of you that would fall into this category." (So you see where their focus lies!)

So it's near the end of the semester (one week left!) and it's time to write the proposal for our thesis. The instructor has given me the go ahead on an idea to create a website, which I wrote according to her guidelines, but I have no idea what pathway it falls into. I'm assuming it's five, since none of the others apply to me.

Last night we presented our thesis proposals to a group of other students in our class. We separated by pathway, and there were surprisingly five other students taking pathway five. Two of the others are also creating websites. I am excited about this. After hearing their proposals, I am even more excited. They had some great ideas, and some of them are as far removed from "art in education" as mine! I think I finally found something to sink my teeth into.

I'm still not sure where the culmination of this degree will take me, but hopefully, with some of the ideas I heard last night, there might yet be a place for me with something I can be passionate about. There's hope.

Stomach Flu

2009-05-04T06:50:00.000-07:00

It's Monday morning, and I finally feel better. Last week I had a nasty stomach flu sweeping through my house. Every one of my kids who were here last week from Tuesday to Friday has now had it. Thankfully, it is quick to hit, and quick to move on.

My assistant was in the second wave of victims. One night of profuse vomiting, and by the end of the following day, she felt fine. I, however, can't seem to vomit, so any kind of stomach bug just seems to linger on and on. Finally, after 3 days I seem to be feeling ok.

It has been a good time to be sick, however, since it's been raining for days. In May!! If I wanted rain in the summer I would live in Seattle! I know drought is bad, but still. Rain in May!

My thesis proposal is due this evening for peer review. I've been plugging away trying to write somewhat intelligently, but not really impressing myself. I guess I'll see how easily impressed my peers might be! I'm afraid my proposal is so far way under par for graduate level writing.

And now it's the beginning of the month, which means a ton of month-end paperwork to fill out. Ugh.

I didn't intend this blog to be an online journal, but rather a voicing of my opinion on various matters. However, since I haven't had an opinion, apparently, in quite a while, I figured I'd just fill you in on what's been going on with me!

The Carsino Show

2009-05-01T09:37:00.000-07:00

Ok. I admit I've been avoiding this blog. It's not because I don't have anything to say, either. I've been a little overwhelmed lately, and instead of feeling the release of writing out my issues, I've turned it into one more thing I should be doing. So, I've been avoiding. Typical.

But last night my husband and I went to see a show. It was something I had to do for school. I only have three weeks of school left, and had to get one more theater viewing in before the end. So, considering that I've left it to the last minute, I looked through what was playing, and there wasn't much to choose from!

Interestingly, the tiny theater on Sutter Street in Folsom was featuring a Thursday night performance of The Carsino Show! Ok. I'd never heard of it, but it fit my timing perfectly. From the website it looked to be a two-man comedy show. I was a little off on THAT point.

The cast of 12 had a whole musical set up around the set of the Carsino Show. This was supposed to be the mafia's knockoff version of the Johnny Carson show. It was funny.... most of the time.

The funniest part was that we were the only audience. Granted, the theater is tiny. I think it seats 50. Tops.

But still, being the only audience is a lot of pressure! I mean, what if we didn't find their jokes funny?

The guy that played Carsino's sidekick was funny, though. I could tell he was somewhat ad-libbing in response to our reactions, and his timing and delivery were awesome. And you know me (or most of you do, anyway), I can be loud. And I laugh a lot. Loudly. Usually at the most inappropriate times.

Needless to say, I was an active audience member. And the show was funny. So it wasn't hard to laugh at all the right places. Plus, I got a little into being "cast" as the audience... My husband said I had a larger audience than they did!

At the end of the show, the cast all came down to talk to us, and every one of them commented on what a great audience I was. One guy even commented on how they could hear me backstage and were laughing at my laughing at even the smallest thing! Oh well. I told him I get that a lot!

It was fun and funny. I'm still chuckling about it! And the best thing of all... they invited us to come back to their other show for free! Woohoo! They said: "When you call, tell us you were the woman who laughed at the Carsino show and we'll comp your ticket!" Ha!

Women and Oppression...

2009-04-16T21:30:00.000-07:00

There has been some online discussion recently about the oppression of women in the church. I wrote about my feelings on the subject in January. That post can be found here. I don't know what prompted that outburst, but it is something that rankles still. It is my opinion that much of the oppression of women in our culture originated with the early catholic church. And since the church shaped much of European tradition, it is only as we distance ourselves from christian culture that we move toward equality for women.

Again, this is my opinion. If you don't agree, that's fine too.

But interestingly, there have been a few posts recently about the same topic. The first was by Jeromy at A Mending Shift. He spoke eloquently here about a personal experience that spoke to a lot of people, judging by the comments left. It was a beautiful piece. Jeromy has a knack for truth-telling and story-telling that I enjoy.

Jonathan took up the challenge here.

Then Jeff, at Losing My Religion, spurred by Jeromy's post wrote about his own experience, and how it has affected him. This post hit closer to home with me, and I left a comment on his blog pointing him to the post I had written in January. That sparked an interest in discussion, and rather than leaving long comments back and forth, Jeff wrote a separate post in response.

I recommend reading the posts. But I say that from a position of bias.

I've been interested in this topic my whole life. Growing up, being a girl was shoved in my face at every turn. Having five brothers only made the delineation between what was "allowed" more obvious. Some of the limitations were cultural. Most were religious. When I went away to a strict boarding academy in high school, the lines were even more obvious.

Then, as I got older and got into the work force, I saw the difference in a different light. There were definite "girl" jobs and "boy" jobs. Again I chafed. I wasn't brave enough or lucky enough to choose my path while disregarding cultural norms, so I definitely wasn't one of the many laudable women who have trail-blazed new pathways through corporate america.

Many of the women mentioned in the various posts were specifically relating to being excluded from leadership in a church, but the feelings are the same.

I just want to say, I appreciate the topic being under discussion.

Cooking

2009-04-12T11:58:00.000-07:00

I'm a Cancer. At least, according to the astrological calendar, I was born under the zodiac sign of Cancer. I have this little book that describes the characteristics of Cancers, and it seems to know quite a lot about me. I find it odd that all of the millions of people born in a month would somehow be similar enough to be described in such terms, but that's a different discussion for a different time.

According to the book, Cancers are caretakers. And for a Cancer, the best way to take care of, or show love to the ones we care for is to feed them.

I don't know about every other Cancer on the planet, but this is true about me. I do show love and appreciation by feeding people. It's an even greater act of love (in my opinion) because I really don't like to cook. What I enjoy is serving the people I love good food. The more complex the dish, or decadent the flavor, the better.

Because of this, and the fact that I did not marry a chef, I have worked steadily at becoming a better cook. I think I have reached a point where I can claim to be a pretty good cook. I'm not great, and could definitely benefit from formal training, but I do well enough.

However, I still do this as an act of love. It makes me happy to please people with a delicious and home cooked meal. I am disappointed when my offering is not as good as I think it could be.

Because this is how and why I cook, it follows that when I am unhappy I have no interest in cooking. I can see that in the way we eat out. When I am feeling good, we eat at home more often. When I am not, we eat out a lot more.

So I wonder, how does this work in your home? Is one person principally responsible for the cooking in your house, or is it a shared task? If so, how is this decided? How do you appreciate the person that keeps you fat and happy? Or is this considered a responsibility that is expected and thus taken for granted? What do you do for the person that feeds you every day?

Raffle Fundraiser

2009-04-09T09:16:00.000-07:00

My son's school is holding a fundraiser, as does every school. As fundraisers go, though, I think this one is pretty cool.

The school is offering a raffle called "Home Free". First prize is house payments for a year (up to $25k), or $15,000 cash. Second prize is a $500 gift card for gas (or whatever), and the third prize is $250 Raley's gift card for groceries. The whatever means the gift card is a visa gift card, so theoretically you could use it for whatever you wanted.

The raffle tickets are selling for $100 each. You can check out the raffle here: http://www.goldenvalleycharterschool.com/homefree/index.html#

The downside to the raffle is that you have to print out the order form and mail it in. The upside is that they are only selling 1000 tickets, so we might have a better chance at winning, right? Well, better than the lottery, anyway.

It would be cool if someone I knew won!

Weight Loss, Exercise

2009-04-08T10:51:00.000-07:00

I started working out a little while ago in an attempt to get that hard body I think might be hiding under my thick skin. I'm not fat, but I'm getting older, and my skin is starting to sag in places it really shouldn't.

There's also the fact that I've always had a problem with a muffin top, and it would be nice to see if I might ever achieve a flat belly. This might just be wishful thinking.

I have a friend who graciously agreed to "practice" on me while he works his way through his personal trainer certification process. Nothing beats a free personal trainer. Nothing. Really.

Plus, he likes me, so he's nice.

After experiencing soreness in muscles I didn't know existed, and some that I didn't think could ever BE sore, I can tell I'm getting stronger. My problem is that exercising makes me hungry. Actually, hungry is an understatement. I feel like I'm absolutely starving every minute of the day! And I've never been good at deny myself something I NEED, and I need to eat!

So, exercising tends to make me fat! What the heck? I tell people this, and they look at me like I'm smoking something. Really, I do gain weight. It's not hard to believe when I'm eating twice as much as I'm used to eating, and only burning off a quarter of what I'm packing away.

Knowing this, I've really tried to eat less this time around. I'm only partially succeeding. I am a little chunkier than when I started, but so far it isn't completely out of hand. In fact, I'm semi-successfully trying to eat less than I was before I started working out, so I might have a better chance at that hard body.

We'll see how it goes! I'll let you know in a couple of months if I'm achieving success, or if I've just given up completely on the exercise!

Moments

2009-04-06T17:06:00.000-07:00

I heard a country song some time ago, performed by Emerson Drive, called Moments. The song talks about everyday people, at low points in their lives, who remembered moments in their lives when they were more than they thought they could ever be. Moments when they did heroic things, that may not have seemed heroic to anyone else, but for them, was something seemingly out of reach.

"Moments, days in the sun

Moments, when I was second to none

Moments, when I knew I did what I thought I couldn't do..."

I believe that everyone has had moments when they have accomplished something that would never have seemed possible. Or did something that, although may seem inconsequential to me, was monumental for you. Even when we seem quite ordinary, or we don't think our lives are interesting, each of us has done something in our lives that was memorable.

I stood up to my mother once. It took an amazing act of will to hold my ground, but I did it. It will forever be a moment I remember. It may well have been a pivotal moment in my life that shaped my future.

My aspiration was to be more than anyone thought was possible. I haven't accomplished any great thing, and for most people, I might not seem like much, but I have come a long way.

I graduated from college and am halfway through a master's degree. Many people have done this and more. But considering that I rarely attended the same school for longer than one school year at best, more often splitting a school year between two schools, and once even three, this is an accomplishment I think beats the odds. It took 11 years of perseverance to complete my bachelor's, working full time and going to school at night. Walking down the aisle, in a mass of caps and gowns, to receive my diploma was a moment to remember.

My wedding day was another. My new husband and I worked hard and sacrificed much to pay for this day on our own. Although we were on a budget, we had a gorgeous celebration. Everything was beautiful, and there was nothing money could buy that could have made it any better. Such a thing would not have seemed possible to me. But we did it.

I am proud of my son. Of course, this is a joint effort with my husband, but I am proud of the person my son is becoming. I never pictured my life with a child. Growing up in a hispanic culture, this was an unheard-of concept. Although he wasn't in my life plan, he is someone I am very proud of.

None of this may seem heroic to you. These may not even be goals toward which you strive. These are definitely not the culmination of what I hope to accomplish. But I've had my moments.

More Praise for my son's school...

2009-04-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

I know I've written about my son's school a couple of times. I know I will most likely write more as the years go on. I can't help that they impress me!

My son goes to a charter Waldorf school in my area. As I've said before, I love the Waldorf philosophy, even though I'm not 100% on board. The teachers that are attracted to this environment are amazing, as I wrote about previously. Finding out that they are also non-union only impresses me more.

But this isn't about politics or philosophy. This is about his two special kindergarten teachers.

My son is active. According to his teachers, he has a boundless source of energy! He is smart, social, and bores easily. He is very tiring! It takes a lot of work to keep him occupied and engaged, although he does love to help and will do almost any task, the trick is always finding the right motivation.

Last week my husband and I met with his Student Success Team. His teachers suggested that we have a special meeting in order to discuss his strengths and "strivings" (as they call it). This team is assembled to address how to best meet the needs of individual students in order to make them successful in school. Although the meeting was scheduled for an hour, it actually took two. The team consists of his two teachers and their mentor teacher. The mentor teacher brought years of experience and an unbiased third party to the table. It was a very productive meeting.

The focus seemed to be on finding the right mix of participation and activity to keep him focused and engaged. His trouble seems to be in getting bored with the activity and then becoming restless and disruptive. The teachers talked about the kinds of activities they have been doing with him to keep him engaged, while giving him a physical outlet on which to spend his excess energy. The amount of extra attention and care he has received from his teachers astounds me.

My concern has always been that although he is not a bad kid, his excess energy and his ability to pull other children into his disruptiveness would give him the reputation of being the "problem student" and that would follow him throughout his school years. One thing I appreciate about this school is that his 1st grade teacher would be his 2nd-8th grade teacher as well, and that would give his next teacher plenty of time to get to know him, know his strengths and weaknesses, and find the right mix to work with what he needs. However, a bad impression at the beginning could sour his whole experience.

During the course of our meeting the teachers brought up some issues they've noticed that I hadn't even recognized. What I considered to be an anger management issue, the teachers actually thought was a sensitivity to sensory input. At first I objected to this idea, but my husband (who does have sensory sensitivities) was quick to agree. I argued that how could a kid who loved to be hugged and cuddled be sensitive to touch. But my husband and the teachers brought it to my attention that it was actually unexpected touch that sets him off, and his response to unwanted touch is the same as children with more severe sensory issues.

They also thought he had an especially low pain tolerance, which again I objected to. However, my husband again overruled me and agreed with the teachers. What I had considered to be an amazing dramatic act at every scrape or fall might actually be a real display of pain. Huh.

Then, to my surprise, one of his teachers pulled out a book that she had been reading for children with sensory challenges! She also gave me a copy of some nutritional baths she had researched for children with sensory sensitivity, and mentioned another book that would also be a good read and apply to my son. As she was writing down the title, his other teacher pulls the book she was suggesting out of her bag!

I was shocked and amazed. How often do your child's teachers independently research an issue, and read a rather large text, in the interest of helping a single child in a classroom? I know he did not receive this kind of care from his public school teacher last year!

Every encounter with his teachers impresses me. I just can't thank them enough.

Picture in the Paper

2009-03-31T09:15:00.000-07:00

My son got his picture in the local paper!

Our town celebrated the opening of a long-awaited bridge late Saturday morning. After accompanying me to the farmer's market in the early morning, I dropped him off with a friend and his mother to enjoy the opening ceremony and whatever else they had planned for the bridge celebration.

He and this friend had been avidly following the progression of the bridge construction, visiting the site at least once a month from the closest vantage point.

He came home Saturday afternoon full of talk about being interviewed by the newspaper people, and that he was going to be in the newspaper. He also mentioned that he didn't get yelled at by the police, because he didn't do anything illegal (which I thought was very amusing!), but that his friend did.

And then Sunday morning I got an e-mail from my brother-in-law with my son's picture from the local paper! I went out to get my paper, and sure enough, he made the front page of the Region section.

The funniest part is that the picture is of him and his friend's mother watching his friend climb the fence to get to the razor wire at the top of the Folsom Prison enclosure! I guess that's what he meant when he said his friend did something illegal!

Book Review

2009-03-30T07:12:00.000-07:00

I finished Keeping Faith, by Jodi Picoult. The author holds my interest in that she does write out-of-the-box story lines. At the end of this book there is a Q&A with the author, and she mentions having an extremely uneventful childhood. She has balanced that with an active imagination!

The book is about a seven-year-old child named Faith who sees God after her parents get divorced. God comes to her as a female, motherly protector. When her grandmother dies, God tells Faith what to do to heal her. This begins a national fury that results in hundreds of media, religious zealots, and sick people congregating in their yard to get a piece of her.

The story begins with the divorce. Mariah finds her husband Colin in their bedroom with another woman. Unfortunately, Faith is with her, and sees this also. He leaves, and within days files for divorce.

Colin and Mariah met in college, where he is the handsome, popular jock, and she is the studious, loner who is hired to tutor him. She is so consumed by a sense of inadequacy when he decides to go out with her, that she totally excuses his indiscretions early in their relationship. She has no friends other than her mother, and is completely needy. She worships the ground he walks on even now, despite the fact that he had her committed to a mental institution the first time she discovered he was having an affair and tries to kill herself. She's a complete pushover who determines her own worth by how this man treats her.

Mariah tries to keep it together after the divorce for the sake of her daughter. Then her daughter starts talking to God. This makes Mariah nervous, so she takes her daughter to a psychiatrist. To her credit, however, she never once thinks her daughter is lying.

After a long drawn out media circus, performing several healings, experiencing stigmata, which brings on the attention of the Catholic church and her own Jewish leadership, and a lengthy custody battle, God leaves as quickly as she appeared.

The story is well told, if convoluted. I do appreciate the author's imagination when considering realistic, yet uncommon, experiences. If nothing else, her books make you think.

Protecting the Spirit of Childhood

2009-03-24T07:50:00.000-07:00

Last night I learned that I just might have a passion after all. Well, I don't know if I'd quite call it a passion, but it comes very close.

I met with my instructor to talk about choosing a topic on which to base my master's thesis. I was somewhat depressed about this process, because the program is for a master's in education, with an emphasis on art in education. Being neither an artist, nor a teacher, I was at a loss when it came to the constant discussion of incorporating art in the classroom, although I have been convinced of its importance. That still left me with no relevant ideas for my final project.

In an effort to narrow down possibilities for my thesis, we talked about what I do for a living, and why. I explained that although I'm good at what I do, this is my business, I did not get into it because of an overwhelming love for raising other people's kids. I do, however, want to give these kids an opportunity to be kids.

I realized that I believe in protecting the spirit of childhood (to steal a phrase from Waldorf), which is not the same, and may actually be the opposite of, protecting children.

What do our children need to become whole, healthy, empathetic, productive adults? Is it really in their best interest to protect them from everything that might cause harm?

By not letting our children climb trees for fear of the chance that they may fall and break a bone, we are stealing from them an experience they deserve. What if by protecting them from this experience we are inadvertently teaching them to keep their feet firmly planted on the ground, and to never reach for the stars? By denying them the thrill of climbing high, of achieving greatness in this small thing, we could be forever crippling them from attempting to achieve greatness in the future.

By helping our children achieve success at every task, in order to save their feelings from hurt, we are denying them a valuable lesson. Does not failure teach us to try harder? By never putting our children in a situation where they have to try and try again to achieve success, we are robbing them of the feeling of triumph that will motivate them towards success in their future. We could very well be disabling our children into not being able to succeed without help. What happens when we aren't around? What happens when they become young adults, and this safety net is withdrawn?

By protecting them from seeing poverty, we are missing an opportunity to teach empathy for those less fortunate.

By giving them everything they ask for, we are teaching them that they can forever have whatever they want, when they want it. Are we then cultivating the sense of entitlement that got us into the economic bind we are currently struggling with?

By forcing onto them our cultural taboos about sex and the body, in an attempt to protect them from predators, or teen pregnancy, or STD's, we are denying our children an opportunity to see their bodies in the beautiful way they were created. What if our culture created this harmful environment of predators and sex offenders by shaming our children into denying their sexual nature, and thus forcing them to prey on the helpless or weak in order to satisfy their need? By focusing on the danger, we miss the opportunity to teach our children the beauty of the body, the appropriate time and place to explore their bodies, and instead leave them with feelings of guilt, or shame, when they do have sex. What if we are driving them to give their bodies away earlier and earlier in an attempt to find out what all the fuss is about?

Life is about risk. Sometimes, only by risking much do we achieve much. If we constantly shield our children from risk, are we losing a valuable teaching opportunity?

Book Review

2009-03-22T08:33:00.000-07:00

This post is about the books I've read recently. I've taken a break from the business-related books (lifestyle entrepreneur, self-help, how to find your dream job books) and am just reading for the fun of it.

The last book I finished was by Jodi Picoult, entitled My Sister's Keeper. This was an intriguing book from the very beginning. The story is about a girl who was basically engineered and implanted (through IVF) to be a perfect donor match for her older sister who has a rare form of leukemia. The parents mean well, thinking they would only need to use the umbilical blood to put their daughter into remission, but eventually the older sister has a relapse and this daughter is required to give more and more of her body, culminating in the need for a kidney transplant.

The book begins from her point of view, but each chapter is written from the viewpoint of a different family member. Every family member speaks with the exception of the leukemia patient. It's obvious that everything that happens in this family's life revolves around her, so it's really about how this fact affects everyone else in the family. Instead of sympathizing solely with the character you are reading about, you get a balanced look at how this trauma is affecting each member.

Ultimately, the ending is still surprising. Altogether, this was a great read, and rooted (although it is fiction) in very real issues we are facing today.

I'm moving on to another book written by this author, but I'll have to tell you about that one later, as I've just started it.

I started and discarded a book called Money, A Memoir by Liz Perle. It is a book about how women view and deal with money, and how this is different from how men feel about money. I was really hoping it wasn't another book about a woman who let her husband take care of all of the finances until she suddenly finds herself divorced and in charge of her own future. However, in this I was disappointed. Hence, the discard.

I don't know why this is true of a lot of women (which is what the book was trying to tell me, had I really wanted to know) but I'm tired of hearing the same sob story. Just because you're not interested in paying bills does not mean you have to be clueless about finances and how much money your family does or doesn't have. Wake up and quit whining.

Before that I read a whimsical story called World of Pies by Karen Stolz. This was a book I found while cleaning out my son's bookshelves. I have a bad habit of stopping at garage sales when I see books being sold, and then buying every children's book they have. Usually this consists of a box or paper bag full of god-knows what. I then deposit the entire collection on my son's bookshelves, waiting for the time when he's reading well enough to be interested. So far, it's slow going. So in the interest of giving him a little more space, I cleaned out his bookshelves of anything he would probably never be interested in reading.

This was clearly a book intended for a young woman. It is the story of a small town girl living in Texas. It begins when she is about 11 years old, learning to make pies from her mother. It ends with her teaching her daughter this skill when her daughter is about seven. The best part about the story is that it ended with a list of recipes for all of the food items mentioned in the story. Some of them look good enough that I'm going to give them a try before passing the book on!

These kinds of books make me wonder how people get published. I mean, the story isn't amazing, there is no real meat or moral. It is purely the chronicling of an everyday life story. The author is a decent storyteller, but not exceptional. What part of this would get a publisher interested? Is it really not that hard?

Mistake...

2009-03-17T07:19:00.000-07:00

I made a mistake. Against my husband's wishes I cosigned on a car loan for my nephew.

I talked to him extensively about what he was getting into, what it would require, what he would do if everything didn't go according to plan, and what his exit strategy would be. I stipulated that he contact me as soon as he knew he wouldn't be able to make his payment on time. I lectured him on responsibility and how to break away from the losing example of his father.

It seemed like everything was going to be fine. I felt really good about giving this boy, at 19, a helping hand; an opportunity to establish a credit history, and show responsibility. I remembered trying to buy a car at 19 without a cosigner, and the exorbitant interest rate I paid because of it.

I started paying for this mistake in the second month. Because it is considered a high-risk loan (I've learned) the lender starts making phone calls within 10 days of being late on the payment. It was then that I realized that I was the primary on the loan, and apparently the only one answering phone calls. I tried to get a hold of him, but like I said, he wasn't answering his phone. Neither could he return a phone call. Or an e-mail.

Eventually he made the payment. But it continued like this every month for a year. I would receive a phone call, try to track him down, then he'd make the payment. Rarely did he call me, and usually only after I'd gotten so mad I'd leave a nasty message on his voicemail.

And then, one month, he didn't make the payment. I got a call warning me it was going to be 30 days late, and again I jumped through hoops to get him on the phone. His mother finally called me to inform me that they had made payment arrangements with the lender, so it was all good. I let it go until I found out I had gotten a delinquency notice on my credit report. I was pissed. I called him again. He promised he'd get it off of my credit report. I called him again a couple months later, and he said they had agreed to remove it.

That's when I started calling the lender. Eight months later, they haven't removed it as promised. Now I'm wishing every day I had not believed in this boy.

It gets worse. Last month, he didn't make a payment at all. When it got close to the 30 day mark, I made the payment. I figured I'd give him a break, and when he made the payment he would then be ahead of the game. Only, he never did. Now we're getting close to the 30 day mark on the second month, and I've decided to repossess the car. After getting no response to e-mail, I called a repo man to go pick up the car for me. I even asked the police in their city to do a welfare check to make sure they were still in their house. I then left another nasty voicemail.

Finally, he called me. I told him I was taking the car. He was remarkably cooperative. He gave me the information I needed to look up the value on KBB, and I find that it's worth about $6k less than what he owes. So it looks like I'm going to be paying for this mistake for at least 3 years to come, even after unloading the car.

If this was the first financial mistake I've ever made, I probably wouldn't be so torn up about it. Live and learn, right? But I seem to have a long history of "helping" people who can't seem to help themselves. Time after time I loan money to people who are desperate, just to get them "over the hump", only to find out that the hump is really a steady incline.

A few months ago Suze Orman was on Oprah saying now is not the time to cosign for a loan. Apparently, two years ago wasn't either. I apparently have to learn my lessons the hard way. Again and again.

Church

2009-03-15T07:04:00.000-07:00

I had a conversation last night with a friend about church; what church is, versus what church should be. I fell asleep thinking about what it must have been like for the early Christians.

Right after Jesus ascended, as the early church was forming, there was such an excitement among the people who believed his message. There is a comment in the book of Acts about how the believers gathered every day to eat together and fellowship.

I imagine it was like the release of the new iPhone. When all those techy geeks couldn't help getting together to talk about their new toy, and compare applications, and share discoveries on how it worked and what it could do. Everyone was talking about it, writing about it, excited about it. The non techy's couldn't help but see that excitement and wonder if they shouldn't also have an iPhone. I mean, if it was that great...

Now imagine 2000 years ago. These people were living through a time of unrest. They were being occupied by a government so powerful they couldn't do anything about it. They were powerless to shield their children from seeing their own people being horrifically murdered on crosses lining the streets. The most they could hope for was that the occupying army wouldn't destroy their temples or force them into breaking their own laws. There were many/some/a few scholars who believed that the prophecies pointed to this time as being the time of the messiah. There was supposed to be a liberator coming soon.

There had already been a few attempts. They had seen men come and go claiming to be the messiah. These "messiahs" would be charismatic enough to gather large groups of followers, and inevitably their message would turn to revolution and liberation from Roman rule. They would then be crucified for treason, their followers would all go home, and the whole thing would fade away.

And then came Jesus. He was charismatic -- at least there was something about him that drew crowds. He claimed to be the son of God, bringing salvation. Somehow, though, Rome and the occupation never seemed to come up. All he ever seemed to talk about was the character of a man. He seemed much more concerned with the individual than the nation of Israel as a whole. He talked on and on in riddles and stories about fictional characters. Yet it seemed that every person in the audience connected with him. Whatever random story he told seemed to be about them, or for them, or somehow related to them.

Even without the stories people came, though. Sure it was cool to hear him speak, but he was healing people at the same time. People near and far had heard about him restoring sight to the blind, healing cripples, touching lepers and healing them of this hideously deadly disease. That was the interesting part. He actually TOUCHED all these unclean people, who by law should be shunned. Who wouldn't be interested in seeing a guy like that?

Granted, when his following got large enough, everyone WANTED him to start talking about revolution. I mean, what was a messiah for if not to end this oppressive occupation? Didn't the prophecies say he would save them? But Jesus stubbornly refused to comply. He always had some slippery answer that wasn't really an answer whenever someone brought up the subject.

And then he ended up dead. Just like the rest of them. Crucified, no less, which was even more humiliating and disturbing. Enough people witnessed his death that the news spread like wildfire. Those closest to him, his disciples, were at a loss. What would they do now? They had spent the last three years of their lives following him around and spreading his message.

Then the sightings began. First Mary and Martha swear they saw him alive. Then the disciples, then hundreds of people witness it. He was alive? How could that be? But they had seen him with their own eyes, touched him with their own hands, and finally understood what the liberation and salvation was all about that he had talked endlessly about.

This was exciting! How could you not be excited about seeing a dead guy alive again, and then SEEING him going up into the light? So many people saw it that they couldn't very well ALL be dismissed as insane. That, coupled with the amazing things he had said and done before he died made for interesting conversation. How could you not get together to talk about this? Add in the fear of ending up just like him if they were caught, and you have a group of people that TRULY believe that Jesus was the messiah, the christ. You couldn't be a half-believer. The risk of death was great. Too great to be unclear about where you stood.

So this group of excited believers get together on a regular basis to talk about what they'd seen, who had witnessed what, how they had personally connected with the message Jesus brought. Then, one day, as Peter is preaching this message, the holy spirit comes to them. The spirit filled the room in a physical way. Everyone could SEE the spirit hovering over everyone else, and all hell breaks loose (so to speak) as people start weeping, and laughing, and jabbering in languages they didn't know. This was real. It was something they could see. It wasn't an "I think I've got the holy spirit" kind of thing.

And then the persecutions really ramped up, and the people scattered, sharing this amazing thing with anyone who would listen. And as they spread, they gathered new groups that would come together on a regular basis, at least on the sabbath, and talk about this new experience. This was joyful community. They had everything in common with each other. They believed something that could get them killed. But how could they not when they could see every day, with their own eyes, the manifestations of love that resulted from this?

This church was a community. They couldn't wait until their day of rest, or the end of their workday, so they could hang out together and share their hospitality and experiences. They were so excited about what was happening in their lives, they couldn't shut up about it and mind their own business. There was no doubt about the reality of what was happening; they could see the holy spirit come into a person, and witness the gifts that came with that.

This was noticed by outsiders. This movement was noticed as far away as Rome itself. People were drawn to this community of equality and belonging.

This is not how I see the church today. Christianity is not exciting. It is not about love and worship, equality and sharing. When I think of Christians I think of hypocrisy and name-calling, exclusion and self-righteousness. Who would be interested in joining that? I'm not.

Time

2009-03-13T07:31:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how the days fly by without even noticing. It's Friday, finally.

My mind is a whirlwind of fragments. No thought is sticking around for long, which inevitably puts me in a state of panic. I feel like I'm forgetting something, or missing something important when my thoughts aren't cohesive.

And for the first time ever I'm having trouble sleeping. Well, I guess ever is not the right word. This problem started this year, so it's not exactly new. But it is still surprising, because I've always been able to sleep through anything. Nothing ever bothered me enough to affect my sleep. Now I stay awake at night trying to remember the things I'm supposed to be doing, or worrying about things I can do nothing about. I always thought that was an old person's affliction. Am I that old?

It's Monday...

2009-03-09T07:12:00.000-07:00

...and although I'm not happy about that, I am thankful for a wonderful weekend. Although I didn't get everything done on my to-do list for the weekend, I did have a very nice weekend.

Avery was grounded from watching any television or playing any video games the entire weekend. So instead of letting him watch his shows (he only gets to watch on the weekends as it is) while I did whatever I usually do (homework, computer work, television, etc.) this is what we did:

Friday evening Avery played a very boring game of Boggle Jr., which he says he enjoyed, although the game entails spelling three or four letter words, then checking if your spelling was correct. This seemed like something that would not interest him, since he is just learning to read, but he enjoyed the challenge, apparently.

He and I discussed moving his bedtime up from 8:00 pm to 7:30 pm, since he is no longer taking naps, but still needs the extra sleep. He was upset about that, so we made a deal that if he avoided trouble at school (the reason for his grounding this weekend) for an entire week, we would move his bedtime back to 8:00. We'll see how it goes.

Saturday morning he got up and played more Boggle by himself. This is usually when he watches television, as his parents are not early risers! He fed himself breakfast then came up to see what we were doing. Saturday morning was our trip to the Farmer's Market for the nutrition class I mentioned, so we got up and got dressed so grandma could pick us up at 8:30. We were there for two hours, and Avery always likes the Farmer's Market because all of the vendors give taste tests!

The trip ended rather eventfully since he mistakenly chose to sit on a red ant hill to pick a sticker out of his pants, and didn't notice them swarming up his legs until they started biting. That was traumatic!

When we got home, I made hamburgers for lunch that were oh-so-good! I've been craving big juicy hamburgers, and none are better than home-made, imho!

We played Monopoly Jr., then Avery and I walked to a nearby park, where he played while I read the chapter in my textbook that was on my homework list for the weekend. My husband picked us up from there so we could go to Chicago Fire for dinner. Yum!

Sunday morning Avery got up and took a bath! Without my telling him to! Granted, he didn't seem to have washed much, and was not convinced he should get back into the bath once he was out and dried, but I appreciated the initiative! Then he worked on building Legos while I got showered and prettied up to go out. It was Grandpa's birthday this week, and we were celebrating with a lunch on Sunday.

We left early from there to go see a local production of Snow White. We were meeting a friend of mine, who has a six-year-old boy also, and although Avery professed NOT to like Snow White, or the dwarves, or any prince/princess movie, he sat entirely enthralled through the whole two-hour production!

My friend offered to take him back to her house so the boys could play, so I got three hours to myself. My husband and I had daytime sex, which was fantastic, and then I made a nutritious, yet yummy dinner. :-)

All in all it was a nice weekend. I did squeeze in two 30-minute sessions on my Wii Fit (which is usually the extent of my exercise routine these days), but I didn't get the homework done for my Wednesday night class. I really dislike the class, so I know I am avoiding doing it on purpose. I also know that this is going to catch up to me soon, but ah well... At least the Snow White production counted as work for the class, since it is a Children's Theater class! Interestingly, the part that I dislike about the class is all the writing required. Go figure!

Nutrition

2009-03-08T07:51:00.000-07:00

Last week, I signed up to take a nutrition class. It was recommended by a friend. It's a 6 week course meeting once a week.

I've been interested in improving my nutritional intake ever since I did a three month "experiment" to clean out and heal my body. I went to a holistic doctor who taught me quite a bit about how what we eat affects all of our body health, not just the parts that get fat! During the three months I honestly ate the foods he recommended, I felt wonderful.

The constant migraines that had plagued me for many years were completely gone. The neck and shoulder pain that I attributed to tension was gone. The subtle aches and pains that I rarely notice because they are always there were also gone. I'd never felt so good.

However, eating nutritiously takes a lot of time and sacrifice, and I wasn't able to sustain it.

Because of this, I wasn't expecting a whole lot from this class, but I am always willing to hear about how I SHOULD be eating.

But the instructor, Amanda (www.eatyourroots.org), said something that struck me and was super simple to understand: we need to eat like people ate 100 years ago.

It seems that around 80 years ago, there was a butter shortage in this country. This instigated a government push for an artificial substitute, which started a whole series of artificial additives and preservatives being created. I know that might be a bit simplistic, but that was the gist of the lesson. The point is, in the last century we've been morphing our food into something so very far from it's natural state that our bodies have a really hard time dealing with this foreign matter.

However, this instructor's focus is attainability! Which is good. Because the hardest part about eating healthy is the time it takes. A lot of time is required in planning, purchasing, soaking, thawing, and cooking naturally.

But on the bright side, she did take us to the farmer's market and gave us good examples of the questions to ask farmers about their farming practices. Ok, so I'm not quite to the attainability part, but maybe soon? We're only a week into the class.......

Killin' Time

2009-03-02T14:38:00.001-08:00

I'm busy.

Aren't we all?

I have several unfinished projects on the back burner. And my day job, of course. And school.

But lately, for the last two weeks or so, I feel like I've just been killing time. I'm not sure why, exactly. I've been ignoring my school work, and not even thinking about the unfinished projects. I've barely been getting from one day to the next.

I have been fulfilling my duties for work. I've also been consistently working on my obsession to finding the secret to lowering my grocery budget, as well as figuring the best budgeting technique for our needs.

I know part of the problem is that I've been indulging my love of reading. I love to read fiction. I have a strict policy of not reading for fun while school is in session, because I can easily get lost in a book and neglect everything else. However, I have a box full of books I haven't read sitting outside my bedroom door taunting me every time I go in and out. So, yeah. I read a couple of them this week.

I've also been watching TV again. I don't know of a bigger time drain than television. I generally don't spend much time on that. The few shows I am interested in get recorded, so I can watch without commercials. However, watching television is exactly what I want to do when I don't want to think, and I've noticed that I've been doing that a lot these last couple of weeks.

I don't know what the problem is. I can't explain the sudden lack of focus. I just know I've been killing time.

Funny. I didn't think I had any time to kill...

Parents, Part 2

2009-02-26T15:48:00.001-08:00

We moved around a lot after I was born. I don't know if that was true before that, but during my youth we moved at least twice a year. Sometimes it would be close enough to remain in the same school. Most often it wasn't. Because of this, I didn't make friends. There was no point.

I did realize early on that my presence had a calming affect on my mother, and she would be less violent if I was there. Actually, I don't think I realized it consciously, but I do remember deliberately going into the room when my younger brother was being beaten, even though everything in me was screaming to run and hide. This seemed to lessen the damage for him. It was all I could do for him.

I do know she especially hated my two brothers, though for different reasons. I can't attest to her feelings about my older siblings because I was much too young to know. I do remember several occasions where my younger brother would ask why she did this if she loved us, and my reassuring him that she didn't love us, and if he could just realize that, life would be so much easier.

In seventh grade I met the first of the adults in my life that could have been a parent figure. Mr. Stevens was my teacher, and the first adult male I'd met that was not interested in me sexually. No. I was never raped. You needn't go there.

As far as I can tell, Mr. Stevens just wanted to protect me. He mentioned once that he wished he could adopt us, but his wife had an aversion to kids, and that was impossible. However, his meddling did lead to our first abandonment. By this time, my mother had already come to blows with my now-adult sister, and we were no longer in contact with her. When my teacher decided to do his mandated-reporter duty and call the police, she skipped town and left us at school. (She did try to pick us up on her way out of town, and it was only by forcefully holding my younger brother back that I managed to get her to leave without us.) The "plan" was to confront her and have her work with a social worker to see the error of her ways. As it turned out, she was forewarned and had packed each of us a suitcase and had planned to skip town. Since I didn't jump in the car with her, nor allow my brother to do so, she went without us.

After a visit to the sheriff's office to tell our story, we ended up staying with a church family until placement could be made. This was my lucky break, and I was actually hoping for a great family when she showed up three days later and took us back. No charges were brought, and we ended up staying in our home for the remainder of that school year. We did have to change schools and were not allowed to see anyone who had known us before. She also made me promise not to try to make contact with my sister for at least a year. She gave me a sob story about being tired of fighting, and I made that concession for her.

By the time I reached high school I was quite independent. I managed well with her rules, and a confrontation my freshman year actually got her to find my sister for me. This was several moves later, and we were now in Oroville. I remember the day my sister and older brother showed up at school to see me. It was surreal. I didn't recognize my brother at all, and I was somewhat awkward with my sister. However, I was happy to have her back.

It was during that year that I decided I needed to get out of the house, and I convinced my mother to allow me to go to boarding school. Because she was ultra-religious, and believed that freedom ruined children, she found a few like-minded boarding schools for me to choose from. One was in California, one was in Utah, and one was in British Columbia, Canada. Naturally, I chose the furthest.

This is where I met the Fournier's. The boarding school did not have dormitories, but rather a series of large houses where students lived with a family. I arrived in the summer, and by freak chance ended up with this family. I had been destined to live with another couple, but at the last minute, they decided not to stay, and everyone living with them got divided up amongst the remaining families.

This is also where I came out of myself and decided that shy and quiet was getting me nowhere, and that I should really be outgoing and happy if I wanted friends. This worked wonderfully, and I had the best year of my life.

The Fournier's treated me like one of their own. They had three kids, and although I knew I wasn't really one of them, it was the closest thing yet. They let me call them Mom and Dad, and for one year I pretended they were. I know they did love me, and treated me with more care than the other students. I know this because Mrs. Fournier wrote me the most beautiful letter at the end of the year, which I still have, and she HATES to write. At least, she did then.

But time goes by, and at the end of the year, they decided to go be missionaries in Africa. It was hard to see them go. I stayed another 1/2 year at the school, but it wasn't the same.

Over the years I've looked them up a time or two, but hadn't found a trace of them until now.

Since coming of age, I decided my last chance was through marriage. My sister's mother-in-law loves her like a daughter, and they seem to have a very close bond. She's been in that family for many years, and although it took some getting used to, I think she has assimilated nicely. I know it isn't the same thing, but it's close. She has also found her biological father, and although that will never turn into a real father/daughter relationship, that connection has changed her (even if she doesn't realize it).

When I was 21, my mother left for good. She sent each of her kids a letter asking not to be contacted or looked for, that she was tired of being a parent and wanted her freedom. At the time, my youngest sister was 11, and she was left at home for CPS to find. Although this isn't true of all of my siblings, I have respected her wish and have not made contact.

I am married now. My husband has wonderful parents. I love them, and they love me. I have no doubt of that. And although they are my family now, the parent/daughter connection was never made. There is nothing wrong with that. I am not complaining. They are wonderful people.

I probably shouldn't be writing this. I don't want to hurt anyone, or cause embarrassment.

I've often wondered what it would be like to have that presence in my life. That person you could always count on. I don't even know what you would count on them for, once you become an adult, but I see how even grown people are with parents, and I know that relationship is special.

In the last few years I have been surrounded by people who love me fiercely. I have no doubt that I am loved, and I have been extremely blessed by the quantity and quality of that love.

I am not suggesting that I have been slighted or am somehow worse off than anyone else. I am not looking for sympathy. I have had a wonderful life since becoming an adult.

I am merely curious. Like I said, this is something I think about often, and I knew I would write about it sooner or later. Forgive me if I've hurt or offended.

Parents, Part 1

2009-02-26T13:18:00.000-08:00

This post has been bouncing around in my head for a week now. I spoke to someone a week ago on the phone whom I used to regard as the closest thing to a parent. I've had a couple of instances in my life where that feeling was awakened, but this couple was definitely the strongest and closest I've ever been to having parents.

I'm not sure where this post will go, or how long it will end up. It might have to be told over several days. However, I do know that I should put in some disclaimers. So here goes:

If you do not want to know any really personal details about me, you should not read further.

If listening to a person tell about their life makes you squeamish, you should not read this.

If you are a part of this story, and don't care to rehash the past, you should not read this.

That being said, this all started last week, like I said, when I got the call. This is someone I recently discovered through Facebook, and have had FB and e-mail conversations with since then. I really wanted to hear from his wife, even though I had no idea what I would say to her, and knowing that she doesn't like to write, I gave him my phone number, and hoped that she'd call.

He called instead, and it was wonderful to hear his voice. I realized through the conversation that he and his family probably had no idea what an impact they had on my life. How do you make something like that known? It's too personal to share aloud, really.

So I've been thinking about parents, and what they mean to a person. I think, even in adulthood that people are still connected to their parents. I've known people, and heard stories from others, that have lost their parents early in adulthood, and even though they are grown, they still feel bereft, and lost for a time without that presence in their lives.

I know several people who are still quite close to their parents, and talk to a parent on a weekly, if not daily basis.

So what is this bond?

I lost my parents early in life. They are not dead, although they might as well be. My father left me when I was barely two, and from what I've heard about him, he is not someone I would want to know, even now. My mother, unfortunately, did not leave, although I was probably around five when I realized she was not a nice person, and I did not have to like her. This is one of my earliest memories.

My mother was abusive, physically and emotionally. When I was around five, I remember being dropped off with my younger brother at an in-home daycare facility. It could have been a babysitter, but I remember there being several other children, which is why I think it was probably a daycare. It was just for the day, and to my knowledge was the first time I had been left in the care of another. I had no family other than my siblings, but my sister, who is ten years older than I, usually took care of us, so I'm not exactly sure why we were left in this place. Maybe my sister was in school.

I remember being terrified. I was a shy child. I know that is hard to believe for those of you who know me now, but I was. Quiet, and shy. New experiences scare me. So I sat alone in a corner, and sucked on the crook of my elbow the entire time we were there. As a result, I gave myself a hickey. At the time, I didn't know what a hickey was.

When my mother picked us up, she was furious about the hickey. She beat me quite thoroughly right there in the street because of it. Not knowing what the big deal was, I could only decide that she was unreasonable, and not a nice person. I think that moment changed my life. Ever after that, I could distance myself from her. Granted, she gave me lots of reasons to reinforce my decision. I think kids are resilient, and they protect themselves in many ways. She was a source of pain, and it seemed easy enough to detach and distance myself from that.

As I got older, this distance helped me. I loved to read, and I would lose myself in the fantasy or fiction of other people's lives. However, I also saw how other people lived, and I knew what I lived every day was not the only way. It was not normal. This knowledge along with the belief that my mother did not love me, and therefore I did not need to love her back, made it hard for her to get to me. Sure, the beatings stung, but as they didn't seem to get her the desired affect, they grew fewer and less intense.

I have huge gaps in my memories, so it's hard to say when and how things changed, but I do remember a few things. My oldest siblings were all between 8-11 years older than me, and were out of the house before my memories start to solidify. I remember the night my sister being kicked out, for the second and last time.

I have to note here that I will forever be grateful for my sister. She looked after me, and was my primary caregiver for as long as she lived with us, and for many years after she would do everything in her power to protect me. I attended a conference recently where a respected neurologist talked about the studies that have been conducted on touch with small children. He showed the effects of positive touch and negative touch with a series of MRI scans of the brain. It turns out that children who receive only negative forms of touch or no touch at all have stunted brain growth and development. A scan of two brains, one normal and one from an abused child showed that the brain size of the abused child was actually much smaller in size than that of the child considered to be living in a "normal" loving home. I have no doubt that it was her care in my early years that allowed me to grow, thrive, and become who I am.

To be continued....

How do people become?

2009-02-22T16:11:00.000-08:00

I attended a multicultural conference yesterday to fulfill a requirement for school. It was not a conference I would have chosen to go to, and I was not looking forward to five hours of discussion on why and how we should be more culturally aware.

When I arrived, I was early enough to get a great seat on the isle, close enough to have a good view of the speakers (my eyesight isn't what it used to be). Since I was early, I also got to watch the staff and the speaker setting up the podium. The speaker, Dr. Shawn Ginwright, is a professor of Africana Studies at San Francisco State University. He has written several books, and worked extensively with urban youth, trying to find a way to reach these kids in their own space, and give them options.

The speech was really good. But what struck me the most was watching him set up. He brought his 11 year old son, and it was interesting to watch their interactions. What must it be like to have a father who is "famous"? To know your dad has published books, has been asked to speak all over the state, or possibly the country, and to have people recognize him and ask for his autograph?

More importantly, how did he, Dr. Ginwright, get to this place? How did he achieve this success? What is his story? Was his dad a professor, and he just following in his footsteps? Was he the first in his family to graduate college, and now he's a Ph.D? In minority groups, that is not an unusual circumstance.

Then I looked around at the group of people who had come to hear him speak. It was a hugely diverse group since it was a conference on multiculturalism. What were their stories? How did they come to this place in time? How do people become who they are?

And I realized that I am fascinated by culture, but more than culture, I'm fascinated by people and their stories. Everyone is unique. Everyone has a story. So many have overcome something in their lives to become who they are. Diverse cultural backgrounds make these stories interesting. Culture is the color in the portrait, so to speak.

I want to know! What is your story? Was there a pivotal experience in your life that changed you, that changed who you ultimately became? Or were there a series of life experiences that sculpted your life slowly into what it is? Do you float atop the waves going where the current takes you? Or do you sink your legs in and try to direct the flow?

Stories are what make us all human. Stories are what bring us together. Ever since I learned to read I've devoured written stories. Now, though, I am curious to know the people in the stories. There are so many unknown lives, and what could be better than telling your story?

Success

2009-02-20T22:14:00.000-08:00

The more I read about people who have succeeded in business, or in life, the more I know that it is not what you know, but who you know, that matters.

There have been success stories of people starting with nothing, and from nothing, and clawing their way to success with only their ambition to drive them. However, most of these individuals, when they tell their stories, have someone they admit to having helped them achieve that success if only by believing in them, loudly and persistently.

Every book, or article, I read on the subject of achieving success in business advocates finding a mentor. How does one go about finding a mentor? Have I written about this before? It's a subject I think about constantly.

There was a time when I think I could have achieved much through blind ambition. However, when I parted ways with my ex, a lot of that ambition seeped out of me. She encouraged me more than I ever appreciated until it was gone. She believed in me, loudly and persistently. It wasn't blind praise, as much as an honest belief that I could achieve anything I put my mind to.

I do have many people who love me. This does not discount that love in any way.

When I had my son and slipped into the depression I spoke about earlier, even what little ambition I had left dried up completely. It was disheartening for me to be so apathetic, yet I couldn't find a way out of the apathy.

Now the old ambition is creeping back in, and I feel driven to achieve something more. It is something I think about often, which is why I started this blog, and why I have been reading everything I can find on the subject. I've always wanted to be a business owner, and that alone is the best part of what I do now, but I've never had a talent or skill I felt was marketable on my own. Now, though, I have many ideas, but no idea on how to make them happen, or if they are even realistic or achievable.

This brings me back to the subject of mentors. If this is truly the secret for those born without connections, how does one go about finding a mentor? And more importantly, how does this relationship work? What does the mentor expect in return?

He's just not that into you...

2009-02-19T08:31:00.000-08:00

I went to see this movie yesterday. I knew there was a book written by this title that sounded interesting when I had heard about it, but I never got around to reading it.

The movie was LOL dumb! It's basically about dysfunctional dating. I actually did laugh out loud in the theater several times, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't in the appropriate places.

One of the relationships was a married couple. The husband cheats, and the wife responds in a completely weird way. But she did say one thing that struck me. In trying to figure out how and why this happened, and she says "I used to be fun. When he met me, I was fun." I can totally relate to that. She didn't even have kids!

I used to be fun. Now, I'm a grouch. What changes a person? Is it getting old? Is it being married? Having kids? Having a mortgage? Is it merely a by-product of being too damn busy to keep everything straight? When does one get to relax and be fun again?

Music

2009-02-19T07:46:00.000-08:00

Music affects my mood. When listening to an upbeat song, I am happy. When listening to a sad song, I can be brought to tears. When listening to a depressing song, I am depressed. This can all happen in succession. Talk about mood swings!

I know that I'm not alone in this. Music is a powerful medium in our culture, which is probably why it is such a large industry. Music touches us in a profound way.

I wrote a post recently about being cranky all of the time. I was thinking about this in relation to the way music affects my mood, and I came to the conclusion that quite possibly I just need to listen to a steady stream of uplifting music!

Yoga Master

2009-02-15T14:52:00.001-08:00

My husband set up our new Wii Fit this morning. My son wanted to do some yoga, and I thought it would be a good time to get a little workout in, since I haven't done any exercise in...oh...2 years or so.

My son and I took turns doing the yoga poses. We've been doing rudimentary yoga poses for a few years off and on, since I have a Yoga for Kids DVD, and the kids just love the funky shapes they can contort their bodies into.

Wii Fit has several ratings it chooses for you based on how well you do the pose, and how still you can remain while balancing on one leg, etc. The ratings are Yoga Newcomer, Yoga Novice, Yoga Trainer, and Yoga Master. They have a few poses to choose from at the beginning, and add more as you improve your form and balance.

My son doesn't have great balance yet, so he'd consistently get Newcomer or Novice ratings. Since I've taken yoga classes in the past, the trick for me was to remain as still as possible while balancing, and I would consistently achieve Trainer status.

Meanwhile, my husband was watching us do this from bed, and decided he wanted to give it a try. He got up and went through each of the poses available and reached Yoga Master on every one!!

I have to explain why this is so astounding. My husband is clearly the stiffest person I've ever met. I think he might possibly have the worst posture of anyone I know as well. He is definitely not in good physical shape, and exercises even less frequently than I do.

Flexibility and posture are the cornerstones of yoga! How could he be so adept at balance when he can't even stand up straight? He slouches so much his spine looks permanently bent. There has to be an error in the programming of this console!