The year 2008 has 4 hours and 14 minutes left in it, as I sit here blogging for the first time in almost 2 months...I am trying to figure out if I am ungrateful enough to say that I didn't like this year and am glad to see it go (true), or if I should take the rosy approach and say that I was blessed with a year of good health and God's provision (also very true.) Was the year half full or half empty? I guess using the glass analogy, I can take it a step further and say 2008 was like a mixed drink. Now, mind you, alcohol has not touched my lips in close to 3 years (I guess--I really have lost track), but back in my drinking days, I was a big fan of the sweet drinks that were good enough to sip slowly but had the same potency of those that tasted like turpentine. Mai tais, Long-Island iced teas, fuzzy navels, etc... something about it being New Year's Eve and the new air freshener I just bought that smells like peach wine coolers has sparked my memory of those tasty drinks of yesteryear. Anyway, the point--if I have one--is that this year (4 hours, 6 minutes left, but who's counting?) has been full of negatively potent moments, but not without its sweet spots to get me through, either.
In 2008:
I quit my job to take a higher paying job, only to be offered another job about 6 weeks later, when I was finally figuring out my new job. The job I was offered was the same hourly rate (a lateral move financially), but working for the Lord at my church. The only hesitation I had was that I was embarrassed to be quitting so early...but once I got that over with, I found myself blessed with a job that I could and do enjoy, so much. It's really not like working at all, because I don't dread getting up and going there every morning, as I have with a lot of my other jobs. I have a great job that I can see myself doing for a long time!
In the spring, my friend Lisa West lost her year-long battle with colon cancer. The treatment seemed to be working, but when she went to another hospital to try to enroll in an experimental program, the pre-screening for candidacy revealed the cancer had spread everywhere, and within about two weeks she was gone. Just before she started her long chemo cycle, she and her husband got baptized together at church. The thing that I can never, ever forget is her telling me that if this is what it takes to bring him to the Lord, it was worth it. She left behind 7 and 12 year old girls. I pray for them, that they will always remember their mom as I do--a strong, outspoken woman who always made them her number one priority. (I miss you, Lisa!)
Also in 2008 (3 hours, 55 minutes left), I found out that my friends April, Dana, and Carolyn were diagnosed with breast cancer. I received my first ever prescription for a mammogram in November and I plan to use in 2009. Having sick friends makes me thankful for my health--a ridiculously gross understatement.
Also in the spring, right around the time that I changed jobs and Lisa died, my husband made the tough but necessary decision to quit his Civil Service job, under emotional duress. He did not have another job lined up, and just a month to look for one before his terminal leave was up. A friend of mine had given me an old cell phone for my daughter (who'd washed hers--oops), but didn't have the charger, so we went to Alltel to buy one the next evening. Brian asked the lady if they were hiring. I remember thinking, "Yeah, right, like a former Public Affairs Officer is going to sell cell phones." He and I both had to get over any pretenses we may have had...needing to keep a roof over your head and food on the table is a strong motivator to do whatever it takes. His starting salary (before commissions) was exactly half of what he was making working for the Army--talk about scary. But he used those PR skills to become the top seller, and after his commission, we barely felt the difference. Several months later, I still know he made the right move, and I praise God for getting us through such a tough, scary transition.
The last part of 2008 (3hours, 46 minutes) found me a full-time-working-chauffeuring-kids-listening-for-bumps-in-the-night-single-mom, as Brian was in Japan for 2 months for a Naval Reserve assignment. Two weeks after arriving at NAF Misawa, he found out he has 450-day activation orders, destination Afghanistan. He returned from Japan 19 days ago, and we had house guests for 6 of those days...now we are trying to tie up all the lose ends before I drop him off at the Reserve Center in Kansas City on Monday, January 5.
So, that was 2008, and here comes 2009, in 3 hours, 39 minutes. Do I really want this year to end? Am I ready for the next one, which promises to be a very long, lonely road? Yeah. Because I am never really alone. I have my kids to live for (and they keep me busy, that's for sure), I have my awesome coworkers and my local friends, I have my military-brat and -wife friends (who have either gone through or are currently in the midst of deployments), and I have my family, who don't live near me but are never far from my heart. I have a husband who loves me and loves our country enough to defend and protect it, and even if I don't get to hear him snore every night, we will be sleeping under the same stars and praying to the same loving God to be reunited safely.
Most of all, I have my Lord and Savior, who has promised to never leave nor forsake me. He said that when I am at my weakest, He is at His strongest. I am absolutely claiming those promises! He has shown himself to be a wise, loving provider to me, even during what I sometimes considered a lousy year (3 hours, 30 minutes). I praise Him for seeing me through 2008, and I will rely on Him to get me through 2009, whether it's sweet or makes me need more than a couple of Advil.
Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Baby Steps for Mom
I've been doing the single-mom thing while Brian is in Japan doing an 8-week assignment for the Naval Reserve, and I just found out he will probably be gone for a year to Afghanistan in January (orders pending.) I don't know who I feel more sorry for--me or the kids, because one parent means there's no buffer! It's all me--just Mom, 24-7. No fun-time Dad or reinforcement Dad or public defender Dad, just moi. No "can you believe she said that?" or "will you talk to him?" or "aren't our kids the greatest?" (Which I need to say more, because they really are!) Just me.
I did this once before, when the kids were little--kindergarten and 2nd grade--and Brian was in Korea for 8 months. That was tough. I had always worked evenings and stayed home with the kids during the day, but when he left, I had to go to work full-time and put them in before and after school daycare for the first time in their lives. They both had behavior issues and I thought I was going to lose my mind...but we survived, just as I know we'll survive whatever the next year holds (actually, it's 360 days, but come on--that's like saying $49.99 isn't $50!)
Only this time I'm dealing with teenagers! (Okay, so Claire is 12, but as I said in my earlier blog, 12 is the new 13!) Over the past several months, they've been acting more and more like the stereotypical teens that question authority, try to get away with stuff, think their parents don't know anything, etc., etc. I have no idea when Keith's voice got so deep (he never went through the cracking voice phase), and now he's driving, too. Claire is almost as tall as me and is a roller coaster of emotions...Pheromone City!
I am not complaining; just pointing out that parenting them with two parents is challenging, let alone going solo. I have been going to a parents' discussion group for an excellent book called "A Parent's Guide to Gifted Children," and we have been studying how to (and not to) communicate with our kids. The group has been an eye-opener for me.
What have I learned? That I have been doing everything all wrong...for years. There are whole chapters of suggestions of which I have violated every single one at one time or another, many in the past five minutes! (Kidding!) For example, did you know that I'm not supposed to be sarcastic with my kids? And I guess I'm supposed to let them tell their side of the story and then think about it for awhile before I assign blame. And I'm supposed to empathize with them when they're suffering the 'natural consequences' of their behavior. Hmm...
We had a homework assignment last Monday--to write down one thing we'd like to try out of the book over the next week. I wrote "I would like to try to be more calm and think through what I am going to say." So, how am I doing?
Well...well, I don't honestly know how this week has compared to others because I just started paying close attention. (I know, I'm a little slow, but usually I am just winging it, and only because I'm reading this book have I been concentrating on the good, the bad, and the ugly of my motherhood.) Some snapshots:
On Wednesday I was leaving for Bible Study and I told Keith I wanted him to clean the kitchen before I got home (yes, my kids do chores, *gasp*), and he immediately started to question me as to why I was giving him a time limit, etc., etc. I calmly said, "I need you to do it and I'd like to have it done by the time I get home at 8:30. That gives you plenty of time and I'm sure you can get it done." I came home and it was done, and I thanked him and told him how refreshing it was for me to come home and see that. (Thanking the kids--it would seem to be a no-brainer, but something I'm sorely lacking in!)
On Thursday, Keith didn't bring his key to school, so he was locked out when he got off the bus. He called me and insisted that I come home and let him in, but I didn't. That's the natural consequence thing I'm learning about. Credit to me for not saying my usual refrain, "Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine." (Subtract points that I didn't say, "Gee, I can understand why you're disappointed about being locked out.") It was a nice day and I only had 45 minutes left of work, so no teenagers were harmed in the making of this story.
That night, I asked if they had homework, and got the usual, weak, "I'm not sure" answers. Claire asked me to help her study for a test, and as I was doing that, Keith "remembered" he had a test to review for, too. So they came up with the idea of asking one another questions, and they helped each other study. I complimented them on their idea and how nice it was that they were helping one another. (Compliments, too?!)
Friday, after our dental appointments, I was dropping Claire off at school and I said, "See ya--wouldn't wanna be ya," but immediately caught myself and said, "Um, I mean, 'have a nice day, Dear.'" She laughed. (Claire is very sarcastic herself and would never buy it if I turned into a Mary Poppins on her!)
Today, someone let the dog out and never let her back in, and she was gone for several hours and came home reeking of whatever green, slimy thing she'd rolled in. I told Keith I needed him to wash her (since he was the last one at the scene of the crime), and he said he wanted to tell me what happened so I'd understand why he shouldn't have to wash her. I listened, then I said, "Well, okay, but I really need you to take care of this" (because I was in the middle of doing a very unpleasant chore myself--sorting months worth of stinky recyclables in the garage), and he said--brace yourselves--"Okay," and did it!!!!
Baby steps...but I'll take them! If nothing else, I am glad that this single-parenting is forcing me to pay closer attention to how I communicate with my kids. They're worth trying to get it right, even after I've done it wrong for so long. I'm blessed to have such awesome kids!
I did this once before, when the kids were little--kindergarten and 2nd grade--and Brian was in Korea for 8 months. That was tough. I had always worked evenings and stayed home with the kids during the day, but when he left, I had to go to work full-time and put them in before and after school daycare for the first time in their lives. They both had behavior issues and I thought I was going to lose my mind...but we survived, just as I know we'll survive whatever the next year holds (actually, it's 360 days, but come on--that's like saying $49.99 isn't $50!)
Only this time I'm dealing with teenagers! (Okay, so Claire is 12, but as I said in my earlier blog, 12 is the new 13!) Over the past several months, they've been acting more and more like the stereotypical teens that question authority, try to get away with stuff, think their parents don't know anything, etc., etc. I have no idea when Keith's voice got so deep (he never went through the cracking voice phase), and now he's driving, too. Claire is almost as tall as me and is a roller coaster of emotions...Pheromone City!
I am not complaining; just pointing out that parenting them with two parents is challenging, let alone going solo. I have been going to a parents' discussion group for an excellent book called "A Parent's Guide to Gifted Children," and we have been studying how to (and not to) communicate with our kids. The group has been an eye-opener for me.
What have I learned? That I have been doing everything all wrong...for years. There are whole chapters of suggestions of which I have violated every single one at one time or another, many in the past five minutes! (Kidding!) For example, did you know that I'm not supposed to be sarcastic with my kids? And I guess I'm supposed to let them tell their side of the story and then think about it for awhile before I assign blame. And I'm supposed to empathize with them when they're suffering the 'natural consequences' of their behavior. Hmm...
We had a homework assignment last Monday--to write down one thing we'd like to try out of the book over the next week. I wrote "I would like to try to be more calm and think through what I am going to say." So, how am I doing?
Well...well, I don't honestly know how this week has compared to others because I just started paying close attention. (I know, I'm a little slow, but usually I am just winging it, and only because I'm reading this book have I been concentrating on the good, the bad, and the ugly of my motherhood.) Some snapshots:
On Wednesday I was leaving for Bible Study and I told Keith I wanted him to clean the kitchen before I got home (yes, my kids do chores, *gasp*), and he immediately started to question me as to why I was giving him a time limit, etc., etc. I calmly said, "I need you to do it and I'd like to have it done by the time I get home at 8:30. That gives you plenty of time and I'm sure you can get it done." I came home and it was done, and I thanked him and told him how refreshing it was for me to come home and see that. (Thanking the kids--it would seem to be a no-brainer, but something I'm sorely lacking in!)
On Thursday, Keith didn't bring his key to school, so he was locked out when he got off the bus. He called me and insisted that I come home and let him in, but I didn't. That's the natural consequence thing I'm learning about. Credit to me for not saying my usual refrain, "Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine." (Subtract points that I didn't say, "Gee, I can understand why you're disappointed about being locked out.") It was a nice day and I only had 45 minutes left of work, so no teenagers were harmed in the making of this story.
That night, I asked if they had homework, and got the usual, weak, "I'm not sure" answers. Claire asked me to help her study for a test, and as I was doing that, Keith "remembered" he had a test to review for, too. So they came up with the idea of asking one another questions, and they helped each other study. I complimented them on their idea and how nice it was that they were helping one another. (Compliments, too?!)
Friday, after our dental appointments, I was dropping Claire off at school and I said, "See ya--wouldn't wanna be ya," but immediately caught myself and said, "Um, I mean, 'have a nice day, Dear.'" She laughed. (Claire is very sarcastic herself and would never buy it if I turned into a Mary Poppins on her!)
Today, someone let the dog out and never let her back in, and she was gone for several hours and came home reeking of whatever green, slimy thing she'd rolled in. I told Keith I needed him to wash her (since he was the last one at the scene of the crime), and he said he wanted to tell me what happened so I'd understand why he shouldn't have to wash her. I listened, then I said, "Well, okay, but I really need you to take care of this" (because I was in the middle of doing a very unpleasant chore myself--sorting months worth of stinky recyclables in the garage), and he said--brace yourselves--"Okay," and did it!!!!
Baby steps...but I'll take them! If nothing else, I am glad that this single-parenting is forcing me to pay closer attention to how I communicate with my kids. They're worth trying to get it right, even after I've done it wrong for so long. I'm blessed to have such awesome kids!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Abundance
A church up the road is collecting donations for Haitian relief this week, mainly shoes and clothing, so I asked my daughter to look in her closet for shoes she's grown out of. She was able to come up with SIX pairs that are still in good shape but don't fit anymore. She also stacked up seven pairs of jeans that look brand new! My son has two pairs of unworn high tops...by the time he got around to wearing them, they were too small. It hit me that I am really, truly blessed to be able to afford more than one pair of shoes for my children, and enough clothes for them to grow out of before they're worn out. How many mothers across the world and even in this country (and perhaps this city) cannot provide even the basics?
I dread going grocery shopping. I drive half an hour to the nearest military commissary because I can't deal with the local supermarkets' prices, so when I go monthly, I stock up! I have a big, heaping cart of groceries that costs me a bunch of money and takes awhile to fill up, empty, and unpack once I get home. My family gets frustrated because we really don't have the storage space for everything I buy, so for a week or so, food falls out of the cupboard or freezer when they're opened. How many can only dream of having too much food????? I heard that in Haiti they are so severely hurt by the recent hurricanes, they are eating dirt mixed with sugar to ward off hunger, and I have to try to figure out where to squeeze my extra supplies?!?
I am embarrassed by how much my kids have. By average American standards, we are not a wealthy family, by any means. Yet my son has a PS2, an X-Box, an X-Box 360and a PSP. I'm ashamed to say that...but I bet that's exactly what his classmates have, only they probably have Wii's, too, something he covets. Both of my kids have cell phones (though they'd like fancier ones), and my daughter has a laptop (a gift from her uncle, who had a couple of extras in his closet--no lie!), a Gameboy and a PSP, and she really feels sorry for herself for not having an iPod. Sheesh!
I am not even going to go into the possessions my husband and I have. I do not consider us to be extravagant shoppers, but I also cannot think of one modern convenience we lack. We have two computers, two decent vehicles, and I get annoyed that our tiny closets barely hold all of our clothes. While we do not have the latest-and-greatest of much (okay, except cell phones--he works at Alltel, after all), we definitely own above and beyond what we need...to the point that I sometimes feel burdened by all of this stuff that I don't have a big enough house for.
I have always said that I would give up everything I have and live in a cardboard box if it meant having a happy, healthy, loving family, and I honestly do believe I mean that (though of course I hope it never comes to that!) I think whoever thought up the Mastercard commercials that label certain things as "priceless" is absolutely right. I cannot buy my kids' love and respect, nor can I put a price on their intelligence and good health. Shiny stuff cannot take the place of their love or my husband's commitment to me, and mine to him.
While I am blessed with an abundance of possessions, I know that when I die, I am not taking any of this with me. The Bible says to store up your treasures in Heaven, where moths or rust cannot destroy them and where thieves can't steal them. My relationship with Jesus (which doesn't cost me a dime, by the way) is far more precious than anything I can ever buy in a store. I thank God for providing for my family and me above and beyond what we deserve, and most of all, I thank Him for teaching me what true treasure really is and giving me the chance to possess it.
I dread going grocery shopping. I drive half an hour to the nearest military commissary because I can't deal with the local supermarkets' prices, so when I go monthly, I stock up! I have a big, heaping cart of groceries that costs me a bunch of money and takes awhile to fill up, empty, and unpack once I get home. My family gets frustrated because we really don't have the storage space for everything I buy, so for a week or so, food falls out of the cupboard or freezer when they're opened. How many can only dream of having too much food????? I heard that in Haiti they are so severely hurt by the recent hurricanes, they are eating dirt mixed with sugar to ward off hunger, and I have to try to figure out where to squeeze my extra supplies?!?
I am embarrassed by how much my kids have. By average American standards, we are not a wealthy family, by any means. Yet my son has a PS2, an X-Box, an X-Box 360and a PSP. I'm ashamed to say that...but I bet that's exactly what his classmates have, only they probably have Wii's, too, something he covets. Both of my kids have cell phones (though they'd like fancier ones), and my daughter has a laptop (a gift from her uncle, who had a couple of extras in his closet--no lie!), a Gameboy and a PSP, and she really feels sorry for herself for not having an iPod. Sheesh!
I am not even going to go into the possessions my husband and I have. I do not consider us to be extravagant shoppers, but I also cannot think of one modern convenience we lack. We have two computers, two decent vehicles, and I get annoyed that our tiny closets barely hold all of our clothes. While we do not have the latest-and-greatest of much (okay, except cell phones--he works at Alltel, after all), we definitely own above and beyond what we need...to the point that I sometimes feel burdened by all of this stuff that I don't have a big enough house for.
I have always said that I would give up everything I have and live in a cardboard box if it meant having a happy, healthy, loving family, and I honestly do believe I mean that (though of course I hope it never comes to that!) I think whoever thought up the Mastercard commercials that label certain things as "priceless" is absolutely right. I cannot buy my kids' love and respect, nor can I put a price on their intelligence and good health. Shiny stuff cannot take the place of their love or my husband's commitment to me, and mine to him.
While I am blessed with an abundance of possessions, I know that when I die, I am not taking any of this with me. The Bible says to store up your treasures in Heaven, where moths or rust cannot destroy them and where thieves can't steal them. My relationship with Jesus (which doesn't cost me a dime, by the way) is far more precious than anything I can ever buy in a store. I thank God for providing for my family and me above and beyond what we deserve, and most of all, I thank Him for teaching me what true treasure really is and giving me the chance to possess it.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Fireproof
I've been getting e-mails at work for months about the new movie, "Fireproof," from the makers of "Facing the Giants" (and "Flywheel," which I believe was straight-t0-video). I watched the trailer and I thought it looked really good, in spite of-- or maybe because of-- the fact that it stars Kirk Cameron. (As an 80's kid, I have fond memories of watching "Growing Pains," I confess!)
The e-mails urged people to spread the word so that when this movie opened in theaters across the nation (a big feat for a Christian movie company), people would actually go see it. I didn't figure the movie would come to my city in Kansas, and when they'd give the times and places of the advanced screenings, I barely read them...
So what a surprise that our staff was in Wichita for a leadership conference and we had a chance to go see the movie, over 6 weeks before it opens on September 26th. I was thrilled! (Funny story: the screening was at a Catholic church and I believe we were the only five Protestants in the room, so when they said a prayer and crossed themselves, the moment screamed, "Awkward!")
Let me tell you, the movie was good. I'd say it's good for anyone who has been married, is going to be married, or wonders what it's like to be married. For anyone who has fought with their spouse or wondered how on earth anyone can be driven to cheat. For anyone who realizes that you never know what's going on in someone else's home no matter how things appear. And most of all, for anyone who wonders if there is hope when your relationship hits rock bottom.
Ten years ago, my husband of five years and I made the painful decision to get separated. Then we decided to divorce. Then we thought maybe we shouldn't...We'd rushed into marriage when we were far too young to know what we were doing (despite our well-meaning friends' and families' warnings), had two fabulous-but-challenging children, and the stress was too much. I will certainly not go into details, because it is too personal, and there is an off chance that someone might read this (despite the name of my blog), but let's just say that it was a relief when we split up, for everyone.
Ironically enough (since this movie is about firefighters), it wasn't until my friend lost her husband in a fire that he was fighting, that I realized how much I loved my husband. I realized that all of the demands I was holding out for in order to reconcile were pretty silly in the grand scheme of things. My husband had already made the biggest changes, the ones that mattered, and I wanted to get back together with him. Thankfully, I did, and though it hasn't always been easy, we have definitely been blessed in the long-run by our decision to recommit to one another and our marriage.
My kids don't come from a broken home like I did, and though my daughter is too young to remember the separation (of 10 months), and my son barely does, I hope now they know that it is possible to get through problems and make a marriage work, based on what they know about our experience. I would be lying if I said everything is hunky-dorey in our home, but they have seen an example of commitment that I praye they will carry with them into their own relationships (which I hope don't happen for a long, long time!)
Which brings me back to "Fireproof." The movie is funny, sad, touching, and deliciously corny. It would be a great date movie, that's for sure! And I heard Kirk Cameron on the radio the other day saying that in the scene where he kisses his movie "wife," they backlit it and he was actually kissing his real wife, because he wanted to be true to her. Awww!
The e-mails urged people to spread the word so that when this movie opened in theaters across the nation (a big feat for a Christian movie company), people would actually go see it. I didn't figure the movie would come to my city in Kansas, and when they'd give the times and places of the advanced screenings, I barely read them...
So what a surprise that our staff was in Wichita for a leadership conference and we had a chance to go see the movie, over 6 weeks before it opens on September 26th. I was thrilled! (Funny story: the screening was at a Catholic church and I believe we were the only five Protestants in the room, so when they said a prayer and crossed themselves, the moment screamed, "Awkward!")
Let me tell you, the movie was good. I'd say it's good for anyone who has been married, is going to be married, or wonders what it's like to be married. For anyone who has fought with their spouse or wondered how on earth anyone can be driven to cheat. For anyone who realizes that you never know what's going on in someone else's home no matter how things appear. And most of all, for anyone who wonders if there is hope when your relationship hits rock bottom.
Ten years ago, my husband of five years and I made the painful decision to get separated. Then we decided to divorce. Then we thought maybe we shouldn't...We'd rushed into marriage when we were far too young to know what we were doing (despite our well-meaning friends' and families' warnings), had two fabulous-but-challenging children, and the stress was too much. I will certainly not go into details, because it is too personal, and there is an off chance that someone might read this (despite the name of my blog), but let's just say that it was a relief when we split up, for everyone.
Ironically enough (since this movie is about firefighters), it wasn't until my friend lost her husband in a fire that he was fighting, that I realized how much I loved my husband. I realized that all of the demands I was holding out for in order to reconcile were pretty silly in the grand scheme of things. My husband had already made the biggest changes, the ones that mattered, and I wanted to get back together with him. Thankfully, I did, and though it hasn't always been easy, we have definitely been blessed in the long-run by our decision to recommit to one another and our marriage.
My kids don't come from a broken home like I did, and though my daughter is too young to remember the separation (of 10 months), and my son barely does, I hope now they know that it is possible to get through problems and make a marriage work, based on what they know about our experience. I would be lying if I said everything is hunky-dorey in our home, but they have seen an example of commitment that I praye they will carry with them into their own relationships (which I hope don't happen for a long, long time!)
Which brings me back to "Fireproof." The movie is funny, sad, touching, and deliciously corny. It would be a great date movie, that's for sure! And I heard Kirk Cameron on the radio the other day saying that in the scene where he kisses his movie "wife," they backlit it and he was actually kissing his real wife, because he wanted to be true to her. Awww!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I'm Lazy.
As I sit here dreading packing for the overnight trip I am going on tomorrow (to a women's retreat about an hour from here--how hard will it be to pack, really?!), it occurs to me how incredibly LAZY I am!
I hate packing, I hate any type of housework (hence my e-mail address," housworkhater"), I hate sitting down and paying the bills, I hate driving (especially being the Mom-Taxi I am these days), I hate grocery shopping, and I hate going anywhere once I'm home from work. Oh yeah, and I hate exercising. And shaving my legs. And doing yard work...well, okay, I've never tried that, but I'm pretty sure I'd hate it.
I don't think I'm a hateful person. I don't think I am even remotely ungrateful for all of my blessings. I have received and totally agree with the e-mail that goes around every now and then about how if you have to park far from the store, be thankful you have legs; if you have dirty dishes to wash, be thankful that you just ate a meal; etc. etc. That's so true!
I'm just lazy.
My idea of a perfect day: lying around in my pajamas and reading a book, napping when necessary. I have tried it and am quite good at it. I daresay I have done that more successfully than just about anything else I've attempted in life. (Hey, we all have our strengths!)
One thing I've been way too lazy about is going back to school. I went to college right out of high school, and I was neither motivated nor ready to do the kind of work it required.
Backing up a little, I was lazy in high school, too. Everyone thought I was a party animal, when in fact, I was very content to stay home and do nothing...I just didn't have friends that would let me, since I was one of the only ones with a car! I liked nothing more than lying on the beach every weekend, sleeping in the sun. I did no work in school, and it is a miracle I graduated with a 3.2 GPA. Nothing to boast about, but considering my laziness, it was a feat.
Around March of my Senior year, my mom asked me, "So what are you going to do? Are you planning to go to college?" I am not even kidding when I say that I had given it NO thought before then. I realized that's what my friends were doing, so I guessed I'd do it, too. (If everyone jumped off a bridge, I probably would, indeed, have jumped!) I quickly sent in applications for three schools in Michigan, where I was technically a resident, even though I'd been overseas for the previous 11 years, and I enrolled in the first one that accepted me (they all did, eventually, thank you very much!)
Well, you'll never believe this, but I was LAZY in college! I would find any and every excuse not to go to class or do the work, and I had a GPA that proved it. Funny memory: one day my roommate Jenny and I didn't want to go take our Biology exam, because we were watching--of all things--"Ferris Bueller's Day Off." We called the prof and told her we had car trouble, thinking we would study the rest of the day. Yeah. Guess who bombed the exam.
Anyways, I dropped out after three semesters. I'm surprised it took me that long to figure out how much money I was wasting. (I paid my loan off in 10 years...my husband gave me a hard time about it, since I had nothing to show for it, but hey, it was only $30 a month--for a decade!)
Okay, so since I dropped out seventeen years ago, I have half-heartedly tried to go back. I earned 7 credits at Bay de Noc Community College in Escanaba, Michigan. (I'm not making up the name; it's a real place.) I lived at NAF Atsugi in Japan for five years. Perfect time to go to college--Navy College office right down the hall from my office, classes held within walking distance from my house!
But I'm lazy. I took four classes...in five years.
So, a couple of weeks ago, a lady from the local Christian College came to the church where I work and dropped off some literature about their adult continuing education degree program. If I go to school on Tuesday nights for 4 hours for the next two years, I can earn a Bachelor of Science in Management and Ethics degree. (Assuming I can come up with $4,000 per semester plus books--I work at a church and my husband works for Alltel, so we aren't exactly rolling in the dough.)
So now Miss Lazy Bones needs to order transcripts, fill out financial aide forms, and pore over the web looking for any money I can drum up. (Is there a scholarship for having majored in the homemaking arts with a 1.89 GPA--what I estimate my cooking and cleaning are worth?)
I have always felt like a failure for being 36 and not having a degree yet. I preach to my kids about working hard so they can get scholarships, and I advise them to finish college when they're young. I think going back would be a good example to them, to show them that education is important. I REALLY want to do this!
I just hope I'm not too...you know.
I hate packing, I hate any type of housework (hence my e-mail address," housworkhater"), I hate sitting down and paying the bills, I hate driving (especially being the Mom-Taxi I am these days), I hate grocery shopping, and I hate going anywhere once I'm home from work. Oh yeah, and I hate exercising. And shaving my legs. And doing yard work...well, okay, I've never tried that, but I'm pretty sure I'd hate it.
I don't think I'm a hateful person. I don't think I am even remotely ungrateful for all of my blessings. I have received and totally agree with the e-mail that goes around every now and then about how if you have to park far from the store, be thankful you have legs; if you have dirty dishes to wash, be thankful that you just ate a meal; etc. etc. That's so true!
I'm just lazy.
My idea of a perfect day: lying around in my pajamas and reading a book, napping when necessary. I have tried it and am quite good at it. I daresay I have done that more successfully than just about anything else I've attempted in life. (Hey, we all have our strengths!)
One thing I've been way too lazy about is going back to school. I went to college right out of high school, and I was neither motivated nor ready to do the kind of work it required.
Backing up a little, I was lazy in high school, too. Everyone thought I was a party animal, when in fact, I was very content to stay home and do nothing...I just didn't have friends that would let me, since I was one of the only ones with a car! I liked nothing more than lying on the beach every weekend, sleeping in the sun. I did no work in school, and it is a miracle I graduated with a 3.2 GPA. Nothing to boast about, but considering my laziness, it was a feat.
Around March of my Senior year, my mom asked me, "So what are you going to do? Are you planning to go to college?" I am not even kidding when I say that I had given it NO thought before then. I realized that's what my friends were doing, so I guessed I'd do it, too. (If everyone jumped off a bridge, I probably would, indeed, have jumped!) I quickly sent in applications for three schools in Michigan, where I was technically a resident, even though I'd been overseas for the previous 11 years, and I enrolled in the first one that accepted me (they all did, eventually, thank you very much!)
Well, you'll never believe this, but I was LAZY in college! I would find any and every excuse not to go to class or do the work, and I had a GPA that proved it. Funny memory: one day my roommate Jenny and I didn't want to go take our Biology exam, because we were watching--of all things--"Ferris Bueller's Day Off." We called the prof and told her we had car trouble, thinking we would study the rest of the day. Yeah. Guess who bombed the exam.
Anyways, I dropped out after three semesters. I'm surprised it took me that long to figure out how much money I was wasting. (I paid my loan off in 10 years...my husband gave me a hard time about it, since I had nothing to show for it, but hey, it was only $30 a month--for a decade!)
Okay, so since I dropped out seventeen years ago, I have half-heartedly tried to go back. I earned 7 credits at Bay de Noc Community College in Escanaba, Michigan. (I'm not making up the name; it's a real place.) I lived at NAF Atsugi in Japan for five years. Perfect time to go to college--Navy College office right down the hall from my office, classes held within walking distance from my house!
But I'm lazy. I took four classes...in five years.
So, a couple of weeks ago, a lady from the local Christian College came to the church where I work and dropped off some literature about their adult continuing education degree program. If I go to school on Tuesday nights for 4 hours for the next two years, I can earn a Bachelor of Science in Management and Ethics degree. (Assuming I can come up with $4,000 per semester plus books--I work at a church and my husband works for Alltel, so we aren't exactly rolling in the dough.)
So now Miss Lazy Bones needs to order transcripts, fill out financial aide forms, and pore over the web looking for any money I can drum up. (Is there a scholarship for having majored in the homemaking arts with a 1.89 GPA--what I estimate my cooking and cleaning are worth?)
I have always felt like a failure for being 36 and not having a degree yet. I preach to my kids about working hard so they can get scholarships, and I advise them to finish college when they're young. I think going back would be a good example to them, to show them that education is important. I REALLY want to do this!
I just hope I'm not too...you know.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Twelve is the new 13!
Or should I say 10 or 11?!? That's about the time that my daughter started turning on me...I am absolutely wracking my brain to remember myself acting like this at such a young age, and I'm coming up with a blank. I KNOW I was a hormone-possessed-crazed-loon-drama-queen for a couple of years there; I am just pretty sure I didn't start so early! I really think I was closer to 13 or 14 when I started to flip out.
The one person I could ask doesn't really remember...My mom is blessed with the most selective memory you can imagine--she only remembers GOOD stuff! (Wouldn't that be awesome?!? ) So imagine my surprise last year when she brought up the infamous most-daring thing I ever tried (that she knew of, that is). I don't know how or why we were at the point of screaming at one another with such venom and force, but when I was about 13, my mom and I were going at it one night, just inches apart, when I called her THE "B" WORD! I think it took her about 2 seconds to crack me across the face--the one and only time I remember her backhanding me. I raised my hand to hit her back and one of my brothers stopped me, which is a good thing because I'm pretty sure she'd have beat me senseless! *whew* My mom laughs about it now--both at my audacity and her quick reflexes. (You ought to see that woman trying to use an ATM machine! Zzzzzz)
I know that this moody-bordering-on-psychotic behavior I'm now on the receiving end of is normal, but it's really taxing. My girl has never been sugar and spice--in fact, even from a young age I referred to her as my "sweet & sour girl." She's tough and opinionated and smart and witty and doesn't take any bull. She has never gotten in any trouble at school and tested ridiculously high on her gifted and talented program qualifiers last school year (if I may brag a bit.) She is awesome! And mean! And dramatic! And short-tempered!
I really think that a great deal of our personalities are nurture, versus nature. She's grown up with a brother who is 2.5 years older than her, and try as she might, she will never catch him or pass him up. The second she learned to crawl, she went straight to the wall to try to pull up and start walking. She potty trained herself at age 2 on the dot. (I'm so blessed!) She was reading at age 4 and I have no idea how because I didn't teach her that early! But he was a challenging child, especially for the first five years of his life, and she figured out quickly that the squeaky wheel got the oil. (By the way, "oil" was the first word she ever wrote, in sidewalk chalk on the front walk. I have a picture of it somewhere.) When she'd throw huge fits I always thought, "she learned from the master."
She started talking a lot later than he did (age 2 instead of age 10 months, which was when he started saying words; he was speaking in sentences by 18 months), and she had a speech problem. She talked a lot like Elmer Fudd. A lot of people couldn't understand what she was saying, and since her name has an L and an R, they always said, "What?" when she said it. In kindergarten a teacher asked her her name and was told, "Never mind--I can't say it anyway." (By the time I convinced anyone to test her for speech therapy, she had grown out of the impediment.) I am convinced that that shaped her intolerance for having to repeat or explain things to this very day!
Anyway, I am grateful for this beautiful, healthy, intelligent girl.
I just look forward to the day that she'll be able to tolerate me again!
The one person I could ask doesn't really remember...My mom is blessed with the most selective memory you can imagine--she only remembers GOOD stuff! (Wouldn't that be awesome?!? ) So imagine my surprise last year when she brought up the infamous most-daring thing I ever tried (that she knew of, that is). I don't know how or why we were at the point of screaming at one another with such venom and force, but when I was about 13, my mom and I were going at it one night, just inches apart, when I called her THE "B" WORD! I think it took her about 2 seconds to crack me across the face--the one and only time I remember her backhanding me. I raised my hand to hit her back and one of my brothers stopped me, which is a good thing because I'm pretty sure she'd have beat me senseless! *whew* My mom laughs about it now--both at my audacity and her quick reflexes. (You ought to see that woman trying to use an ATM machine! Zzzzzz)
I know that this moody-bordering-on-psychotic behavior I'm now on the receiving end of is normal, but it's really taxing. My girl has never been sugar and spice--in fact, even from a young age I referred to her as my "sweet & sour girl." She's tough and opinionated and smart and witty and doesn't take any bull. She has never gotten in any trouble at school and tested ridiculously high on her gifted and talented program qualifiers last school year (if I may brag a bit.) She is awesome! And mean! And dramatic! And short-tempered!
I really think that a great deal of our personalities are nurture, versus nature. She's grown up with a brother who is 2.5 years older than her, and try as she might, she will never catch him or pass him up. The second she learned to crawl, she went straight to the wall to try to pull up and start walking. She potty trained herself at age 2 on the dot. (I'm so blessed!) She was reading at age 4 and I have no idea how because I didn't teach her that early! But he was a challenging child, especially for the first five years of his life, and she figured out quickly that the squeaky wheel got the oil. (By the way, "oil" was the first word she ever wrote, in sidewalk chalk on the front walk. I have a picture of it somewhere.) When she'd throw huge fits I always thought, "she learned from the master."
She started talking a lot later than he did (age 2 instead of age 10 months, which was when he started saying words; he was speaking in sentences by 18 months), and she had a speech problem. She talked a lot like Elmer Fudd. A lot of people couldn't understand what she was saying, and since her name has an L and an R, they always said, "What?" when she said it. In kindergarten a teacher asked her her name and was told, "Never mind--I can't say it anyway." (By the time I convinced anyone to test her for speech therapy, she had grown out of the impediment.) I am convinced that that shaped her intolerance for having to repeat or explain things to this very day!
Anyway, I am grateful for this beautiful, healthy, intelligent girl.
I just look forward to the day that she'll be able to tolerate me again!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Okay, so even though I ask my kids the cliche' question, "If 'everyone else' jumped off a bridge, would you jump, too?" I decided to start a blog because everyone else seems to have one! Oh, and because I love to write, and it's something I haven't made much time for over the past several years. I used to dream of becoming an author one day...I'm just missing two things: ambition, and the time to write anything of quality. So I guess blogging will have to do.
Questions I have asked myself:
1) Will anyone read this? (Doubt it!)
2) Do I have anything to say? (Debatable--if you say something and no one is listening, does that count? Like the old joke, "If a man says something in the forest and there's no woman around to hear him, is he still wrong?")
3) What's the point? (To get a chance to talk without seeing people zone out and/or roll their eyes--that oughta be refreshing!)
Quite frankly, I like to talk! And it's WAY easier to find things to talk about than people to listen to me. Why am I such a blabbermouth?! A couple of theories:
--I consider myself remotely intelligent and interesting.
--Everything reminds me of a story and I feel compelled to share an anecdote.
--I was a lonely kid and had a vivid imagination and talked to myself and my invisible twin sister quite a bit.
--I'm insecure and need attention.
--I'm somewhat witty and want others to think so, too!
(By the way, my favorite thing about myself is my modesty!!!!! ha ha)
So anyway, here I go...
I know my blog page looks like the pre-fab template kit (because it is), but I don't know jack about computers and it's all baby steps for me...
Questions I have asked myself:
1) Will anyone read this? (Doubt it!)
2) Do I have anything to say? (Debatable--if you say something and no one is listening, does that count? Like the old joke, "If a man says something in the forest and there's no woman around to hear him, is he still wrong?")
3) What's the point? (To get a chance to talk without seeing people zone out and/or roll their eyes--that oughta be refreshing!)
Quite frankly, I like to talk! And it's WAY easier to find things to talk about than people to listen to me. Why am I such a blabbermouth?! A couple of theories:
--I consider myself remotely intelligent and interesting.
--Everything reminds me of a story and I feel compelled to share an anecdote.
--I was a lonely kid and had a vivid imagination and talked to myself and my invisible twin sister quite a bit.
--I'm insecure and need attention.
--I'm somewhat witty and want others to think so, too!
(By the way, my favorite thing about myself is my modesty!!!!! ha ha)
So anyway, here I go...
I know my blog page looks like the pre-fab template kit (because it is), but I don't know jack about computers and it's all baby steps for me...
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