Slightly Askew

Dating in the time of Cholera, or something like that

2010-10-14T10:18:00.000-07:00

So here I am approaching my 38th birthday and the realization that I'm "back on the market", "back in the game," or whatever little phrase you'd like to use to depict "single," is reflected everywhere in my life. For me, they are all just sad attempts at making dating sound much more a shopping sport, rather than the work-like-kinda heartbreaking- endeavor that it is. Really. It would seem its a constant state of hope-disappointment, acceptance- rejection-joy-pain....rinse & repeat. No matter whether you are the dumpeee or the dumper, it's often all of those things, to greater or lesser extents. A girlfriend and I were having a great discussion on the topic and have both decided that we are laying off the 'being proactive' in dating. We concur tis better you simply allow God/ the universe (whatever "higher power" you subscribe to), to work it's magic. Over the course of the conversation, she shared her favorite quote from Eat, Pray, Love (every single/divorcing/newly divorced/suburban soccer mom-longing for a an adventure has read it. It's required for our gender.) Anyway, it's an AMAZING quote, no, really, it is. You ready for it? Here goes, "I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long)waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance, I have been a victim of my own optimism." Even in my very limited dating history, I have already been a victim of my own optimism. If I'm being honest, it's something I struggled with in my marriage, actually. Some might say I had horse blinders on, another says, "you were in sleeper town. Now you see. Now you know, reality." All accurate descriptions. Mine was an optimism that indeed that potential of a man (as well as my own) would & was being realized. Nothing is as disappointing as realizing someone isn't the person you thought/hoped/longed for them to be (mind you, it's extra disheartening when you realize you aren't who you thought/hoped/lnoged to be!) In short, it totally sucks. Untapped potential, if you will. Don't get me wrong, I am fully cognizant that I am a work in progress, ever evolving, constantly struggling for improvement. This is different. This is something idealized. They/you "could" be that person, you have the capability to be "that" person. But who you are now, is who you are now. Sometimes, often times, its hard to acknowledge that. This, right here, this is where I am, who I am today.

Honestly, this is just more ramblings, a free flowing expression of random thoughts, loosely trying to be strung together to say something of significance. I suppose it is. Significant, that is. Probably to no one else but me.

The evite to my pity party is forthcoming

2010-10-12T19:29:00.000-07:00

Life is funny. Actually, the timing of life, is more than funny. Today I posted a link to the singledadlaughing blog that I love. The particular post was on step parents and what they, along with the biological parent can provide a child. It was beautiful, poetic- even, and moved me. Funny enough, tonight, fresh from Zumba-ing (the act of participating in a Zumba class- I'm coining the phrase) I arrive at my old house, er I mean, my ex's place to collect Haydn after his normal weekend visitation. We hug, we chat. We stand on the porch and for a few moments, we are kinda, in some weird way, a lot like the family we once were. Haydn shares what they did this weekend. He talks about the pumpkin they carved and how Tami carved out a gourd. Tami is my ex's girlfriend who has been in Haydn's life for the past 9 months. I know Tami, from pre-divorce days, and had always found her to be nice enough. So, the fact that she is now in my son's life regularly, as are her children, it's actually a relief to have known of her previously. She is just as far from a "stranger" as she is a "friend"- for me, she is in some kind of no man's land. An undetermined, unfamiliar role. Haydn really likes her and her children. When we pray, we include them, even the dog that stays at the Grandma's house. I have no ill will, but at the same time, the warm fuzzies are absent. Like, on hiatus, as in vacationing on Mars, questioning if they will ever return...you get the picture. But tonight, something happened. It's a milestone, really. For me at least. After a year that has required digesting so much, and reliving the anniversary of big, huge, ginormous changes in our life...Tonight, I was kicked in the stomach, repeat idly, by a giant foot, wearing steel toed boots, that had spikes on the bottom....or at least that's how it felt, by my own child. He was excitedly telling my about the carving and paused a moment. His Dad and I engaged in some Halloween logistical talk and BAM! There it was, the jarring, gut wrenching, spiked, hit. As Haydn interrupted to get my attention he said, "Tami!" I turned my face to my ex-husband, the look on his face was remorseful, not like he plotted to have our child call me by the wrong name - I could sense his discomfort. It's just the timing of it all. You know? Me posting that link about kids being loved by more than just their parents and all the benefits of that -then the cold slap in the face of, "Yeah, there's another woman in your son's life. One he likes and that has been building a meaningful relationship with him for a while now." Wow. I'd like to be all kumbya about it, and someday, I know I will fully embrace that. But for now. It hurts. It really really hurts. Yes, I'll always be his mother, yes, of course. I just wasn't ready for this, hell, any of it. I guess that's the thing about loss/growth/life- just when you acclimated to the new way, things change.

Whoa. Say it with me, just like Joey Lawrence, Whoa.

2010-10-10T11:29:00.000-07:00

Whoa! I all but forgot about my slightly askew views and posts....Seriously? Seriously? Two years? That's when I last posted. Unfriggenbelievable. The phrase, "what a difference a day makes," seems to be ringing in my head like an annoying old-school alarm clock. Had I known, had any inclination, where I'd be 2 years later.....well, I simply could not have even fathomed the changes in my life: My 13 year marriage ending, entering single life/single parenting, getting my lazy tail in serious shape, emotionally, spiritually, physically, doing a Triathlon, venturing out in the world in many new ways. Whoa. Wow.

It's actually immobilizing- trying to communicate what I'm feeling as I read these old posts, to think about where I am and where I am headed. In fact, I'm just going marinate and sit with that for a spell. But I'll be back to share some of what I unearth, once I can wrap my head around it!

Shhh....do you hear that?

2008-11-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

It's silence, or close to it! All I hear are the keys getting hit as I type and a little smatteing of noise coming from the kitchen as H does playdoh. Truly, it is sooooooooooooooooooo odd for me, that it's a little creepy! At the same time, I did notice how better behaved H has been tonight. seems I am not the only one that rush, rush hurry hurry life gets too!

i had commented recently at small group about how one knows if God is speaking to them. Resoundingly I was met with, "is there time in your day were you are still enough to even hear him when he "speaks". Uh, yeah, No. It was much easier when H was small and my days will spent caring for him and the big task was bathing him, myself, and at some point int he 9 hour time M was at work----make a dinner plan. It seemed to allow much more time for Silence. H didn't talk and believe it or not, I find I am fairly quite at home. So, a walk down the street a swing on the front porch, got my mind reeling with possibilities, thankfulness and silent opportunitites.

I have to figure out how to slow down. I am still hopeful that I can swing lesser hours at work very soon. And when that happens, I will need to fight the urge to fill that newly "found" time from being booked. I will need to refrain from inserting the event or that volunteering---as life is cruising me by. H is growing up so fast-I am rarely found sitting reading a book, let alone, opening myself up to "hear" God's word. I just want a big ole, road side billboard, 'hey Cindi, .......Love, God" Of course hear int he bible belt of MO. there are several well=placed billboards that read, "Don't make me come down there ---God" which always makes me smile....but they are not on my daily route---how do i put a place for God, when I barely give time to hear myself think? Like many things in my life now. I need to become proactive. Most would describe as such when it comes to my job and my kid. But Me? I tend to feel like I am just along for the ride. In the stillness of today I can hear him asking for me to turn down the volume, clear some time of my calendar and "let's talk" Now, the question is, will I be ready to listen????

Turns out, I may be walking backwards all this time!

2008-08-10T16:04:00.000-07:00

Here's the backstory-we just returned from a week in Sacramento and Lake Tahoe. My two brothers, a sister-in-law, myself & my family, my mom, my 6 nieces and nephews, and my dad. Many people are intrigued that my Dad & my mom, after 34 years divorced are both on this trip, in the same house, heck, chit chatting it up on the back deck for much of it! Also, many know that for as long as I can remember, my relationship with my Dad has been non-existent. I have seen him- spent time in his home on occasion, and as an adult shared parts of a vacation in his presence. My brothers both spent time living in Fl. with my mom & I, yet, eventually, moved to California to live with my Dad. Both were gone by there teen age years. With that, came much distant, that, gradually, has closed more and more over the years. So, my Dad is very much in my brothers lives. I am in my brother's lives. Hence, having my dad around on family "reunions" (albeit, Haydn is almost 5 just met his 6 cousins for the first time) is a lot like the infamous, "elephant in the room". We both act nice & cordial, but am told the awkwardness is not just in my head.

We had a nice visit in Tahoe and returned to my brother's for a few days with my other brothers beautiful (inside & out) almost (can't believe it!) 16 year old daughter, H, Marc, me, & my mom. On are last day I finally got some time to talk with my niece. She was the first-I was there to see her mothers belly grow and one September, there to welcome her to my life just moments after her birth. She lives with her mom in Southern Cal.--but is wonderful about coming to any family reunion of her Dad's family. Anywho, we talked about growing up with out a Dad and she shared some feelings and I kept finding myself saying, "Well, I'm no help because at 35, i still feel a lot of hurt" In fact, I continued on...and on...and the conversation switched from her...to me! Basically, I was implored by my brother & my niece to express my feelings to my Dad. Not for him, but for me to "release them" so I can move forward, etc.. I said, "I know. I know" I really just wanted to whole conversation to end. But, I know they are right. So, I did write a letter. I wrote it yesterday with all the feelings still fresh in mind stirredup from our conversation. i don't know what (if anything) i will do with it. It may never get mailed. I may just keep it and re read it a few times to let those feelings out. I know that;s not the same as "confronting" my Dad-which wouldn't be a hateful stance, but I would regret never telling him how his actions have impacted me-my entire life.

I'm sure I;ll post if-when the letter ever leaves my hands. I just need to find courage somewhere. It';s difficult when you have stuffed your shame, pain, guilt for all of your life-the thought of letting it all out is completely terrifying.

Haydn Ponders....

2008-07-07T17:07:00.000-07:00

...these are the questions Haydn posed while in my lap watching the 10 min. firework display. Apparently the whole firework-thing really got his wheels turning!

H: " Why is there no ceiling to the sky?"

H: "Why are they (fireworks) all shaped like palm trees? (the residual "lines" left in the sky by the round blast)

H: "Is it still daylight savings time?"

H: "Why do we have fireworks?"

H: Why does the Earth turn so slowly?"

Geez, kid, sit back and watch the fireworks and just don't think for a minute! Although, I'd rather answer those then the questions on the way to school last week.

H: "How did they put the nails in Jesus' hands?"

H: "Why did they hang Jesus on the Cross?"

Ugh, the other questions I can swing, but I'm borrowing a book from a friend for the other two!

Everyday Love

2008-06-23T16:33:00.001-07:00

I had to write about this--just to serve as proof in another year, or five , or 15. Today at dinner H seemed exceptionally sweet & charming. He had DH& I gazing at him, relishing this precious gift God bestowed upon us. These moments are precious, i mean we are talking a bout a 4 1/2 year old here. So, I asked Haydn some things and ended with, "Do you ever feel like Mommy & Daddy really, really, REALLy love you?" Expecting a smile or yes, we got, "Yes, everyday!" Of course the tears somehow were on quick alert, as they instantly started streaming down my face, almost, as the final sound exited his mouth! There are many times we are told we "aren't nice" or something similar, but wouldn't it be lovely if he really does feel loved every day despite not liking our decisions/rule. I pray this is the case. I have to say, it filled me with joy.

No doubt I will return to this post often with these sentiments are being disputed!!

A "Turtle" Blooms

2008-06-18T19:13:00.000-07:00

Anyway, you'd have to KNOW H to really get this, but Mom & I were in tears at tonights last swim session with QUEST test...they do all the little skills to see how they have progressed. H was a Turtle, can't get any lower than a turtle--would have been a tadpole if they let him. So, prying his cold wet arms off the side was initially the goal. Well, tonight, the subsitute teacher mixed things up with a gaunt to deeper water and a jump -in to -the- teacher session. All 4 complied..some more quickly than others. Then, we see them exit the pool, walking in line, East, East? Yes, East, towards the pool area that is 8'-12' ,complete with diving boards. Could it be? No. They're babies, surely they are not taken my only begotten (a tad dramatic here, for effect) to the diving board. Sweet yellow corn! They are!!!!!!!!! Mom &I que Pops to run ahead and station himself at prime -picture taking outpost. He complies. Mom & I wait nervously talking in antcipation, as H gets closer to the ladder....first, a little guy who stands & contemplates at the end for what must be a solid 2 minutes. I worry, C'mon either jump or get off!--My kid is young, impressionable and an astute onlooker...children are like dogs, scared dogs, that once one smells fear, a malaria type infestaton of "No way! Uh- ah's" spreads in nanoseconds....Finally the teacher goes up, grabs the apprehensive child's hand and in they both go. I am relived, 3 more, 2 more, and What? What happended? Suddenly he is not 2 nd in line, apparetnly a mis step (perhaps planned) has caused a boo-boo, one resulting in tears, possibly blood and not one, but two teachers investigating. H misses his turn and his lil' swim buddy, that was in his old class at Park Hill-goes for it! All the while H is turned away,not seeing Cooper's moment of inspiration! Finally, the teacher places him back on the board. What? Do I need a new prescription? H is walking, more than micro baby steps to the end, with his teacher backing him up, there he is onthe edge. Mom & I are in awe, I literally feel like i just ate some bad quesidillas (recently, I did ,tmi) and tears are flowing down Zoom's checks, mine are welling up. He's going to do it! My baby! I bat my swelling, tearful eyes, only to see thru the haze Haydn is no longer at the end..........................but quickly, giddy-like headed off the board and back down t he stairs, his teacher leading the way. It didn't deflect from my sense of Pride...how far he had come from a mere 3 weeks ago, I was tickled and happily surprised that he made it to the end, to face down his fear, if you will. Really, that's the part that takes guts. The gettin there, not the "throw caution to the wind-no looking back-leap off", Right?

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

2008-05-26T15:29:00.001-07:00

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned, it's been 2 months since my last Blog. Poor, ignored, pushed to the back burner, blog. This lack of attention could be echoed by many things/people in my life lately.....those getting "what's left" after all my pressing obligations are attended! My hobbies, my nails, my linen closet, some friends & even family--getting what is, if any of my time, attention, energy...a.k.a. "sloppy seconds" is left. This isn't something I am proud of, I mean I am not preoccupied saving the world's children or realizing some alternative fuel source...just consumed with the day in day outedness of life! Certain periods of my life appear this way---too many obligations that seemingly suck me dry. Not any fault of theirs, just the way it seems to end up.....too few hours and energy to meet all the needs/wants in my social life!

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!

Free love, man!

2008-03-01T18:14:00.000-08:00

"love" free association

I love….

My “finger” toes, mint choc-chip Byeres ice-cream, my son, zinnias, my husband, the colors in my living room, my mother’s love, my childhood friends, my elementary school PE coach, the amazing women-who I humbly call friends-in my life, the smell of rain, Bubblicious bubble gum, pregnant bellies-mine, or anyone else’s, God’s grace, Pretty in Pink, authentic people, seeing the commonalities in one another, a nerdy joke, a picket fence, convertibles, our Moby dog, the smell of burned gasoline when sitting at the back of the boat, changing leaves, hayrides, hearing my Aunt & my Mom laugh together, reminiscing, the smell of Dreft, my brothers and their families, the amazing hues of the Desert landscape, the joyful feeling of bringing my son into the world, caller I.D., Philanthropists, cheerleaders, dancing- watching/ participating in, seeing humility, people who believe they can make a better place in this world, recognizing that all people want to be loved, Oprah-at least what she represents on her show, email-I can always feel connected to those I love, those shirts that say, “I’m the Big Brother/Sister,” true love, swinging in a hammock under a shady tree (free of bugs/snakes, of course), seeing a wild sunflower goring up through a crack of cement along the highway, long drives, surrounded by nothingness, photography that moves me, swings, the idea of Hybrid vehicles, the concept that I am here for a reason, the way my child’s hair smells after using the baby wash, beer breath on my husband, I love that not matter how long this list is, that there is so much more that I love!

I've been "tagged'

2008-02-16T16:18:00.000-08:00

Leave it to my tech-i.e. blog savvy friend, karen to introduce me to this....apparently I'm "it" so here goes......

here are the rules:

1) Link to the person who tagged you.
2) Post the rules.
3) Share six non-important things / habits / quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people.
5) Make sure the people you tagged KNOW you tagged them by commenting that you did. (I don't entirely get this, but I think that means I go to their blogs and comment in them.)

1) I overpluck my eyebrows at least 4 times a year--bigtime.

2)Once, I let my toddler eat a banana in the store--and never paid for it. It was by accident, but still...the horror!

3)I often let me toe nail polish "rot" (for lack of a better word) off my nails, that is, wear off, rather than properly removing it--out of pure, unadulterated laziness.

4)I secretly watch, "the Girls Next door," although would vehemently deny if asked by hubby. He considers me a pseudo-feminist (which I am, a pseudo one at least!)

5)I still couldn't explicitly explain to my 4 year old just how our TV works. I'm prone to just say everyone/thing on TV are tiny little people that live in the "box"---just as I assumed my whole childhood!

6)I am completely confident that the three people I am about to send this to will not "play along" Don't get me wrong, they are great people, very , very busy, great people!

Reconciling Motherhood

2008-02-07T16:54:00.000-08:00

It's seems I have a case of babyitis. With a coworker proudly blooming in her 5th month, a beavy of infants around my social life, and the ole' biological clock more prominent than Big Ben...I got it bad! I resigned to "go with the flow" an not bring it up to DH, as he feels one is enough. It was such an issue in our life, it was truly driving a wedge between us. So, I retreated from my barrage of baby talk. It was necessary, and with my back pain spiraling out of control, carrying, birthing and mothering a second seemed like an impossibility anyway.

Well, now I have a little relief from my back and am seeing my now 4 year old son, getting more mature and growing up so darn fast that I can't help but fast forward to our family life in another 30 years. Haydn will call and say in fairness he is spending Christmas, Thanksgiving, President's Day--whatever the holiday- with his significant other and their family. And there we'll sit. The two of us, just him and me. Now, having more than one child isn't a guarantee that our house will always be filled. We could have a gaggle of children and still be alone. That's not my beef. I want Haydn to have a sibling, to experience the feeling of being a big brother and I want know what a family of 4 feels like as a Mom as well. Everyone says the love grows. It has too, I'm the baby--the third child. I HAVE to believe the love grows.

So, this is our little secret for now, just you, me, and the bazillion people on the web...I wonder what God's plan is...it would be great if a miracle for in our future!

Swelling with Pride...for no apparent reason

2008-01-23T17:27:00.000-08:00

A mother's love...songs, sonnets, books, movies-many people have tried to capture the essence of this immeasurable love. As a mother myself, I know that this love is awesome. I am often caught off guard when it's beauty overcomes me. For instance, tonight, at Applebee's (this is getting so profound, isn't it?) we had our little meal and Haydn actually ate all his corn dog. So, I said he could get a dessert since it was his bday week and all. Well, the server said, "your birthday? How old are you?" Haydn replied, "3, I'll be four on Sat. (actually Sun.) she then said, "You get a free Sundae for your birthday!" We sat patiently, waiting for the treat to arrive. And then, it started.... the clapping hands, the voices heralding a celebration, the parade of servers chanting and headed in our direction. Haydn's eyes grew wide as they stopped at our table. Our server asked Haydn if he would stand up. He did. She asked him his name, "Haydn with an H" he replied. She then asked how old he will be and could she share that news with a few people. She then yelled to all the patrons, "Haydn is here to celebrate his 4th birthday with us" (Actually I just didn't feel like cooking, but o.k.)"Can everyone give him a big hand?" And so, they did. Somewhere around, "Can you stand up?" I lost it. Tears streaming down my face from pride. I am not exactly sure WHAT I was proud of. I guess the fact that he participated, which for my often super shy guy is not always a given. As the servers left the table, I caught a glance of Zoom Zoom (my mom) in true fashion, she too, was crying. The only good thing was, we hadn't looked at each other. The sight of my mother tearing up has always been the point of no return so far as, whether or not I can choke back the tears and swallow the rock hard lump in my throat or not.

What can I say? I am one Proud Mama!

Did you hear the one about the Lawyer and the Monk...?

2008-01-23T11:04:00.000-08:00

Personality characteristics of my Attorney:
manipulative, Brilliant, Argumentative, Deal Wheeler,
Perfectionist, always ready to debate, knows how to use his charm,
quick to pint out others faults, sees himself as, "above the law",
uses his dimples for both good & evil, factual, contemplative.....
O.k., so I don't have a Lawyer (that's probably a good thing), but if I did I'd want them to have these qualities. The thing is, these are traits of my Preschooler!
Yes, I know it's part of the developmental stage, totally age-appropriate. Well, Me thinks this may be more!
This goes with out saying we think H is fairly bright, but as of the past 8 months or so, this sucker is really giving us a run for our money!
The *attempt* at manipulation, the bold face disrespect (not left unaddressed), the concept that everything is up for debate--ARG! Is this what happens when we give our toddlers, early Preschoolers too many options? That's everywhere in Child Development: Give them choices-let them feel as if they have some power, pick your battles. Well, lately, I question if that has lead us here. No doubt more "seasoned" parents will chime in with camaraderie regarding the Stubborn 3-4's...and Lord, I hope that is what it is. I fear this is a precursor to adolescences, which for those of you mathematically challenged is an awesome 9+ years away, .....or so I thought! : )

I am reassured that he is not this way at school or other environments, actually, reassured isn't the right word. If I were reassured by it, then it would solidify that my darling gift from God is being a "playa' with just dear old mom & dad, and the implications are far to great to even consider! Alas, this is yet again one of those things that only time will tell. : )

Vitamin D 10,000mg daily dose

2008-01-19T17:01:00.000-08:00

Despite the -2 ACTUAL temperature today, I am still on my Vitamin D "high" of last week. Basking in 75+ degree weather and literally soaking up nearly 10 hours a day of the precious ViD has really made an impact on my demeanor. A Mid-Winter Caribbean Cruise should be a required activity for all Midwestern families! Truly, if we never left the port of Miami, we would have still enjoyed ourselves, but visiting the icy blue Caribbean islands peppered along the Western route only intensifies and extends the notion of "Wasting Away in Margaritaville." The cruise director consistently borrowed the Vegas PR slogan by declaring, "What happens on the Sun (our ship)...stays on the Sun." I certainly didn't do anything out of character, other than coutning Corona's among my daily fluid intake requirements, but it's amazing how all can be right in the world, with a simple (albeit-not cheap) change of scenery!

The only problem is, (thanks to my husband pointing this out) I can't get out of my mind that each Saturday a new group of pasty faced Northerners get to tuck their wool coats in their carry on bag for a week or so, while they go and bask in OUR Paradise!

Marked for life?

2008-01-02T17:47:00.000-08:00

An innocent forwarded email survey got me thinking about getting a tattoo. It was one of those get-to-know-you little ditties, you know the kind: I have...been to Mexico, kissed under the mistletoe, been known to snort when laughing, etc..., etc.. Well this one came from a childhood friend that was passed on to both myself and another childhood friend. Backstory: We were that trio that when the two best friends were feuding the third "wheel" person previously on the "outskirts" of the friendship circle was suddenly "in." Anywho, I was a tad surprised that both of them stated that they not only has A Tattoo, but more than one!

The timing of this is interesting,as Marc just mentioned the other day that he is considering getting his first tattoo. Now, I am not opposed to tattoos, I mean, I love "Miami Ink" and "LA ink." At times, I am even brought to tears by the stories of patrons getting tattoos to mark a birth, death, notable life change.

So, all this gets my wheels turning, not so much on, "will I ever get a tattoo?" but more the idea of "if" I did, what would it be of and why? Undoubtedly, I know it would have a connection to a person, but the idea of a name inscribed in my flesh doesn't seem very profound or stylish. Perhaps a symbol, representative of motherhood, my son? Even then, if I were to find an appropriate symbol, where would I have the tattoo? Somewhere easily hidden, but if its honoring my beloved child, would I really want that some where neighboring my nether- regions? Of course, this is all in hypotheticals, I just can't imagine myself at 85 years old, with my Health Aide assisting me in daily care, exposing some wrinkled, age spotted, stretched out-over the years stork tattoo headed south for the winter.

"It looks like someone barfed up Christmas"

2007-12-27T17:24:00.000-08:00

I've always been known for my tact and profound enlightenment (that's only funny if you know me : ) I've used this statement on many occasions to mark: holiday decor gone way past showing "holiday spirit", holiday clothing--the sweater with cotton-ball like snowmen adorned with jingle bells and tinsel collar, the living room"aftermath" of unwrapping Christmas presents, and perhaps even, in the literal sense after one partakes in too much peppermint eggnog.

It's the general phenomena of not knowing when "enough is enough." Even my soon to be 4 year old has expressed this thought, well, not in that exact phrase, but the intention was the same. We were unwrapping presents Christmas morning, the fire was lit, we had our fleece p.j.' s on and hot cocoa in hand, when 30 minutes in he proclaimed, "It's too much." He then proceeded to play with his 2 year old Lego set, in lieu of the brand new R/C toy or Spiderman emblazen football he had just unveiled. Yes, children get overwhelmed with "it all," but I like to think it was more social stance, then developmental appropriateness. Later that same day while being tucked in, my husband asked our son," Did you have a nice Christmas?" He replied, "No." Hubby: "Why not?" Response: "It was too much."

At this point you may think our child was overindulged, and compared to some, I would agree. But by and large I think most people buy much, much more for their children and typically spend more than out $50.00 self-imposed limit. Mind you, the Grandma & Grandpa's also send gifts, however, that included, I think we have a smaller-scale gift giving than many. My son's comment really was perfectly timed. What is the value of it all? I hope to instill in our child that Christmas is a celebration of Jesus' birth and what his life and death brings to all of us. We've said that we get presents because it's Jesus' birthday, and while the concept of Jesus is still incredibly abstract, I hope as he matures, he "gets it" and understands that "Having/Doing "it all" is indeed, "too much."

Sheep # 39

2007-12-22T00:24:00.000-08:00

As I sit here at 2:24 AM, I can't help but wonder where "counting sheep" for insomnia came from. I googled it, and the word insomnia was almost interchangeable with it; often "insomnia" was followed with "counting sheep" in parenthesis. I have tried on several occasions this method. At some point it works, whether it be at sheep number 52 or 3,021...eventually, if you can clear all other intruding thoughts, the mind grows bored at the task at hand and a return to sheepish slumber is imminent.

Regardless if the methodology works or not, I want to know, "Why Sheep?" Why not iguanas or anteaters instead? I instantly am reminded , particularly at this time of year of the biblical quote, 'While shepherds watch their flock at night." No doubt this is the origination. I have to say, only when residual caffeine effects, or stressful times do I really give much thought to sheep.

The Mega Male Ego

2007-12-20T17:27:00.000-08:00

Today I stand (o.k., so, I'm actually sitting) before you posing an age old question: How do men end up with such inflated ego's? How many overweight, bad teeth (or worse, missing teeth), ego centric, bald headed men have you seen/heard/etc... that seem to somehow have the ego of a much more stimulating, enticing, physically fit, full-head-o-hair toting STUD? I have to say, it's a phenomena I have made note of for some time. This isn't male bashing, either. I truly am intrigued at the prospect of how this comes to be. Being the mother to a son, I am really curious to witness this metamorphosis first hand. Of course there are men who have low self-esteem, and perhaps what I have witnessed is just good acting. Nonetheless, it I am intrigued. I hope my son ends up with atmosphere breaking self esteem....after-all, he's perfect, right? Hey???Maybe I'm on to something here........

Peer Pressure- "Everybody's Doing it"

2007-12-19T17:10:00.000-08:00

Much like the silent pressure I felt back in '88, related to under age drinking, sex, fill in the blank____I have yet again (that is NOT an admission to doing the previous mentioned pressures) heheheHee : ) given way to peer pressure and developed a blog. Will anyone read it? The bigger question would be? WHY???? Little ole me, a mediocre at -best writer, even worse on the grammatical front and notorious for sending emails full of typo's. I guess I have adopted the 'Field of Dreams" mentality..."If you build it they will come. " So, here goes nothing.

I have no clue what I will write about and how often, but for now I want to talk about Jake Ryan. Do you know him? Even if you don't think you do, I'd bet money you've seen him before. You see, I like to live like it's 1986 all the time. With that comes an affinity for "big hair", trans Am's and John Hughes movies. Actually, "affinity" is an understatement, I LIVE for John Hughes movies. Sixteen Candles is one of my all time John Hughes favorites and with that comes Jake Ryan. Ah, every girls dreamboat. Jake was the athlete dating the cheerleader, who sees the errors of his ways and shows up at Sam's (un popular, lower classman) sisters wedding looking to make a love connection with Sam. It's the look she gives her Dad, as she pantomimes, "that's him, that's the guy" that still gets me grinning ear to ear. The final scene has Jake & Sam sitting atop a dining room table with a birthday cake, 16 candles illuminating their faces as they lean in for their first kiss. Man, I love that scene. It's so hopeful, even for a 35 year old, married mom! I'm married to Marc, but Jake Ryan will always have a piece of my heart!