Stayin' Alive

Poor Kids for Sale! Poor Kids for Sale! Get your...

So Becca is enlisting in the army tomorrow. I feel as if my heart has been torn out of my chest and stomped upon. I want to go take the recruiters child and indoctrinate her. I want her to be safe. I'd have my concerns even without Iraq, but Iraq makes it intolerable. All I can do now is help her get ready and make sure she gets the best possible deal. They've already lied to her all over the place. Sgt Rosas "If the army changes your contract, then it's void and you can get out"/Contract: "Laws and regulations that govern military personnel may change without notice to me. Such changes may affect my status, pay, allowances, benefits, and responsibilities as a member of the Armed Forces REGARDLESS of the provisions of this enlistment document."

For $10,000, George Bush has been able to purchase my sister's life. You can't beat that deal.

If there's a hell, recruiters must go there.

B is signing the papers on Thursday. It makes the mama bear in me want to go take a child from that lying piece of shit recruiter. I want the very best for B. Happiness, accomplishment, peace, joy, love... but most of all, I want her safe. Fuck you Bush and you too, fucking evil Cheney.

Pace. Salsa, a bus line, and my life.

Weekly, Y and I have kept our commitment to have lunch together. Sometimes this is for a half hour, others it's for two hours or more. Whatever it is, it's magic. Each week is better by taking that break from life with Y. It's really one of the first things ever in my life where I put myself first. It makes me feel like I have to explain it to anyone who knows about this great luxury in my life. Next stop on crazy train? Not feeling like it's a luxury.

Anyhow, this isn't even about that. Each week, we debrief each other about our insane schedules, wonderful families, dreams, coping mechanisms, whatever. It seems that each week, we reassure each other that calm, peace, order, success, and candy are JUST around the corner. As the weeks pile on, I can't help but wonder... What if crazy is just the normal pace of our lives? I mean, at what point do you just own it and say it's what you want? Or if we don't want it, why the hell don't we change it then?

WM Questions I want to ponder...

but don't have the time for!

1) You pull double shifts taking care of everyone else, yet you neglect yourself. What drives you to do this? Guilt that you're not spending enough time with your kids? Concern that you're falling behind in your career? List three reasons why you feel you can't slow down.


Now imagine you have to slow down. What would happen?

2) Write down a guilty-mom moment that still makes you cringe.


Now think about whether there were unexpected benefits for your child. For example, you son says, "All my friends mommies pick them up right after school. Why do I have to go to after-care?" Did he actually enjoy after-care? Make new friends? Try to find something redemptive that came from that moment.

3) What makes you feel guilty on a regular basis? Is it Evan's mom doing museum-worthy art projects with her kids while yours make do with a bucket of broken crayons? Is it leaving your child sick with a babysitter?



4) List three activities you most dislike doing with your kids. Dread supervising math homework? Resent driving them to karate on Saturday mornings?


Choose one activity that you could stop doing today.


Choose another activity you could get help with.

5) List three things you realistically could do to make your life easier at home.


What stops you from doing each of these things?

No take a hard look at your excuses. No money for help with housework? Is there something you could cut from your budget? Choose one of your lamest excuses and find a solution.

6)Imagine that all of yoru responsibilities are on hold for three hours. What would you do with that free time all to yourself?


How would it make you a better mom, partner, and employee?

7) Name someone you'd call in a crisis or someone who could help you get back on track if you drift off course.

8) Guess what? You've figured out where you can get three guilt-free hours (see 4 &5), why you need the time (see 6). Now commit to it. Get the person named in 7 to hold you to doing so. Go. Be guilt free.

Last Week

Copied from an update on a board of friends:
We have been extremely busy lately with work and family. My little sisters have all needed me more lately for one reason or another. (I'll post a pic so you can follow along)



From left to right, that's Joe, Nisey, Sue, Me (Sue is blocking me), Johna (little one), Becca, Mom, Dad, Susie, Bruce, Andrea (Bruce's wife), and Daisy. I wish it was a better pic but it does have all of us in it.

So, this weekend we met with an Army recruiter for Becca. Becca acts so tough but is SO afraid of so many things. I seriously think that she is exploring military options because she's afraid of taking the ACT or SAT. We invited the poor recruiter to Sunday dinner and it took almost all day. I spent many hours last week researching the truth about enlistment so I had tons of questions for her. We're going to also meet with a guy from the Air Force. I'm hoping that by us not overreacting, but just seeking information together, that Becca will make the right choice for herself. And in the very least, that she'll feel supported.

Nisey is in 8th grade and has been hanging out with Tyler the football quarterback. She can barely talk about anything else. It's funny and cute but also scary as she's facing more and more issues about being a minority in a mostly white community. Additionally, she was born with medical conditions that combined with puberty bring a whole host of other issues.

Susie is a senior in high school and was born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I'm currently trying to fight the system for issuing her a high school certificate that is not a 'normal' diploma. If they do this, we'll have trouble enrolling her in any trade schools and classes. Her current interest is in learning to do hair. Man, I'd LOVE to have a hair do-er in the family!

My parents are getting older and I swear they need assistance with EVERYTHING. It's my honor to do it, but it all adds up to a very busy life lately. And that's just MY side of the family. I filled you in a little the other day about the other side.

Work is crazy. The owner of my parent company is a crook. I know how to deal with him, but he stresses me the fuck out sometimes and it only gets worse at year end. Ugh. I've been running my company, coordinating a move/decorating/new furniture for the parent company, helping to turn around two cafe's that belong to the crook, signing new clients.... UGH.

Joe has been just as busy. He was promoted at work and they're going through lots of upheaval. This means a more stressed and busy Joe. He's awesome though.

Our weekends are booked through December already and while they're filled with fun things like getting together with friends and family, looking at the calendar about makes me hyperventilate.

And saving the best thing for last, Nora. She's developing such a sense of humor. She seems to know that when things are out of the norm, they're possibly funny. Last night, she took dried fruit off her little plate and placed all of the pieces along the track of the ball toy she has, then she took building blocks and placed them on her now empty plate. It was SO funny to her. The later she stays up at night, the more she walks. I guess she just needs all day to get her sealegs.

So there. If you read all of this, bless you. It was kind of therapeutic.

i'm lovin' it

McOpoly crizaziness... When I was around 9 years old, I won a $20 gift certificate to Sears from the McDonald's Monopoly game. My big sister paid me the cash for it. TWENTY whole dollars.

Evidently that's the exact price of my soul. Because ever since, I'm a maniac trying to play that game when it comes out. A gazillion diet cokes later I don't believe I've ever won anything of note again. I can't stop though. I daydream about being given a whole box of little game pieces. That can't be right. Very little payoff can buy me for life. I hate McDonald's.

There Just Might Be Something To This

My day got so much better after posting a paragraph that I'm back for more. I totally have an addictive personality. If only other things paid off just as quickly. Like if my stomach was noticably flatter after 100 sit ups. I'd be so much more motivated, man.

9 minutes to get it right.

I've got nine minutes and I figure the best use of my time would be to sort my thoughts. So much to do and so little time. Today, I took a two hour nap in the middle of the work day. When my body shuts down, it's a good indicator to slow down and take it a lot easier on myself. I'm going to go ahead and take my advice. bdsatan can do whatever he wants. For that matter, anyone can do what they want. Each day I want to do a good job, be the best mother, wife, friend and daughter that I can be. Beyond that, I will just breathe.

Didn't even need 9 minutes. So fucking efficient.

Now accepting applications....

for a life coach. Anybody want to apply? I think I need someone to listen to everything that passes through my brain and then sift through and tell me what I should do with my life. And quickly. I have trouble telling the difference between what I value and want and what I think I should value and want.

Lately, I can't seem to be methodical about anything that I need to accomplish. Rather, I sit in a weird funk until the last minute and then RUSH RUSH RUSH and get what needs to be done -- done. It's so strange.

I need a coach.

Tomato Tomahto

Some cartoon we had on this morning was talking about counting to one hundred. Out of nowhere, I felt a five year old's panic about it. Then gleefully remembered learning to count by TENS! Oh, I was so happy. I remember asking my mom and dad why we didn't count by 30's or 40's or 50's... Same attitude applies today.

Lazy or Efficient?

50/50 ain't what I had in mind...

Tonight while I watched Joe read bed time stories to Nora, it occurred to me that she was wholly his. This is not news, I know. However, when I thought of it in the past, I thought of it as something like, she belongs to both of us. Splitting her in half is very different from acknowledging that she is wholly his as much as she is wholly mine. Can you even imagine?

We've got places to go.

Wait the world's not imploding...

that's just my EYE TWITCHING. That's right. My annual eye twitch that arrives around the end of December and visits until February is here already! It is normally brought on by bdsatan's shenanigans and the crazy amount of work that YE brings. Lucky me. It's like my internal barometer indicating that the stress is too much.
Last night, Joe asked me what I had planned for today, and it twitched. Bdsatan calls about the coffeeshop or money, twitch twitch twitch. It's ridiculous. I can't even figure out what to cut or change to get my old calm eye back.
At least nobody else can see it when it happens....

YET.

Oh, and its "hare" not "hair...

On the playgroup board there's a post for tasteless jokes. With that portent, you'd think I'd come out of it unscathed. But you'd be wrong. There's a cleft palate joke and it made me cry. I was a bit shocked that it had that effect on me. What to do next is the real dilemma. The poster seems to be a nice woman but I feel a little called to at least privately let her know the following:

1. Harelip is not a PC term. In fact, it refers to a newborn baby looking like a rabbit. HAIRlip isn't even word. If you're going to be a jerk, at least be a proper jerk.
2. For some reason my specific birth defect (nice) is fair game in polite company. For shits sake, it's on a PARENTING board. I can't imagine that other birth defects would be acceptable joke material.

Did you hear the one about...

It's all about the baby...

She's going to eat like a normal person one day. She's going to eat like a normal person one day. She's going to eat like a normal person one day. She's going to eat like a normal person one day.

Right?

In the past 12 months I've found that I self-impose pressure to parent exactly right on certain things. I do this because I think everyone else is doing them, too. For instance, when I asked my "been there done that" friends about sleep habits, they all quoted books and studies about routine, etc. So, I did it. I kept her routine perfectly -- followed all the rules. Even the rules that seemed to negate each other. My reward? A great little sleeper. My surprise? None of my friends were really DOING that shit they were telling me. The other thing I've noticed is that when I obsess and obsess over something that seems like it might be the start of a huge downward spiral that will eventually expose all of my shortcomings as a mother and person, Nora seems to self correct the second before I'm calling infant mother psychiatric specialists.

My new resolution is to not freak on small stuff. What's weird is that it's not even all the small stuff. There are some things that make other mothers worried and fearful that barely hit my radar. But, holy crazymotherhood, if something does hit my radar, poor Nora! So, Nora likes her bottles too much and table food in too little quantities. Dr. G says no more than 24 oz of milk a day. Nora prefers 30'ish. I allow it because it's soy milk, for heaven's sakes. Doesn't that count as a veggie, as well? Anyhow, I can't campaign for table food because I'm busy with my newest campaign for not campaigning.

Can you say late to the party?

Blogs make me feel old. I don't understand the desire to share one's thoughts with the world. Especially strangers... MySpace, Facebook, texting... I might as well be ninety.