"May you live in interesting times"

Life continues to be interesting. Roser's mother was in the hospital for about six days last week. She had a liver biopsy and we are waiting for the results. big sigh. We are not expecting any thing drastic, probably just some damage from a medication she was taking. I am having a hard time being clever or artistic right now, but at the same time I am dreaming about writing. I miss it terribly. I think this is how poets are born. I don't have the mental fortitude even for a short story now, a few sparse stanzas are all I could manage.
XY11 is starting the pre-season football stuff; meeting the coaches, getting equipment, and stuff like that. Watching a group of 21 10 and 11 year olds throw together an impromptu football game while the coach talks to parents, makes you feel like not that much has changed. Eleven year old boys still have too much energy. They still have bruised shins and scraped elbows. They still get freckles across their noses in the summertime, and they still like being tucked in, even if they would rather be tortured than admit it to their friends. XY11's childhood is slipping away quickly. More quickly than his 17 year old brother's did. I wish I could preserve his innocence and youth, but I can't.

Sigh....

My dear friend, Prettyface commented recently that she feels like she is in the beginning scenes of a 1970's disaster film. You know the ones where the characters are going about their business in sunny kitchens, with a small TV playing in the background. You can just here the newscaster reporting on things like, honeybees disappearing, and coyotes becoming more aggressive, shark attacks, and 30,000+ people dying in natural disasters in a three week period. Little stuff like that. When she first mentioned it, Myanmar and China had not yet happened. I hate anything that has to do with end-times theology. I get angry when people say that the end is coming. We don't know! We can't know. The symbols and clues in the Bible are there so we will recognize the time after the fact, not before. But still, I'm kind of freaking out here. I think about the time in the '60's when the Kennedys, and Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X were assassinated. There was Viet Nam, and Kent State. I guess people were freaking out then too.

Mothers Day

It is good to be the mother of a 13 year girl who can cook. I had the best Mother's Day brunch ever. Omelets, sour cream coffee cake, caramel ring-arounds, and bacon. Roser is sweet, but XX13 can cook! Roser can cook too, but he's more of a dinner chef. Take my advice. If you have kids, teach them how to cook. It will greatly improve the quality of your Mother's Day Brunches.

All week I have been thinking about what I want to do today. I want to lay out by the pool and read. It will be too cold to go in the pool, but laying out will be nice. I have to start a new book. I don't know which I will pick. I have a busy week for work, so I am going to enjoy today.

Of Books and Women

I am happy to tell you about a new blog I am part of. Of Books and Women. Officially it is the website for the Book Club I am involved with. Unofficially it is a place for every one to discuss books. Tell everyone what you are reading, and what you are planning to read. Tell what you loved, and what you have hated; the embarrassing guilty pleasure, and the classic you think was overrated. Please check it out, and tell me, us what you think.

What TV has come to..

I am truly thankful for DVR, or Tivo. I am going to bed earlier because I don't have to stay up to watch my crime shows that I love. I was especially grateful yesterday, when I realized, late yesterday afternoon that the two hour season finale of "Dexter" aired Sunday night and I completely forgot about it. Luckily the DVR was set to record all episodes. Whew! Roser likes sitcoms, and we have those set to record on Monday night and we watch them as we can through the week. I was so excited last night to have two full hours of Dexter to watch.

It turns out, major life stress does not mix well with TV shows about dismembering, blood-draining serial killers. I got about fifteen minutes in to it, and realized it was a bad choice. A day, during which you cried in your car over the prospect of your kid not graduating , is without a doubt a sitcom day. I had several to choose from. This brings me to my complaint. What the H-E-double hockey sticks is wrong with sitcoms? I thought "Friends" and "Seinfeld" introduced a new era of comedy. I thought realism, and subtlety was the new funny. I thought the days of bouncing breasts and the lecherous neighbor went out with Chrissy, Janet and Jack. Some of the humor in "Rules of Engagement" is sharp, observational and funny. Much of the interaction between the long married couple have Roser and I looking at each other knowingly, laughing uncomfortably. The relationship between the engaged couple is one we all remember. But, like a salad where all the components are fresh and tasty, except for one rotten slimy cucumber, there is a stereotype straight out of the Benny Hill '70s. The single neighbor is a repulsive sex and porn addict. He is a caricature and completely unbelievable. He is a fly in the ointment of this otherwise perfectly fine, (though not great) sitcom. Every time he is on the screen, I am annoyed. No one in real life would act like this, and if they did, they wouldn't have a job. (Downloading so much porn on his computer that it crashes, in his huge, presidentially appointed corner office, and then trying to have sex with the sexy tech who arrives to fix it.) The other object of my disdain is "The Big Bang Theory". I know the premise wasn't much to start with, but I thought it would be a light silly comedy. It is. Light, and a little silly, but not very funny. I watch it mostly cause the guy who was Darlene's boyfriend on "Rosanne" is on it, and I have sort of a weird crush on the robotic roommate, Sheldon. The show was consistently bland, occasionally slightly funny, until last night. Sheldon, the autistic savant has a super-hot twin sister, that his roommate and colleague of many years didn't know existed. By super hot, of course, I mean comically large breasts. Well, at least something was funny. Sort of. She was just one of the many girls Jack and Larry fought over in "Three's Company". A card board cutout, though definitely not flat.

In these sad, difficult times, I think we deserve decent comedy. Something believable, and with out stock characters. I feel like the creators of these shows don't care enough to make an enjoyable show. It feels like good enough is just good enough.

Don't even get me started on "Two and a Half Men".

Sorry.....

Deadlines and sick kids. I have an elephant sitting on my chest and a python wrapped around my head. When I am lucky, they are not both there at once. And so... here is a list of things I am grateful for

1. My faith in my Creator. With out the grace of Jesus I would not get out of bed in the morning.


2. My children have never been hungry.


3. I have a job I love.


4. My husband is a source strength, not a sapper of strength.


5. None of my kids are in big trouble.


6. The kids and Steve and I talk to each other.


7. Books.


8. My friends.

There is much more, of course. But since I was up late with a restless XX5 last night, I can't think of anything else. What are you grateful for?

I am reading 'The Witch of Cologne'. Per Burpykitty's request, (pronouncement) I will be reading 'The Birth House' next. What are you reading? Should I read it?

Today is someone's Birthday

Today is someones Birthday. Someone I have known for...about 12 years. The first time I met her, she was vulnerable. She was going through one of the worst times in her life. It was not representative of who she was at all. We loosely shared a group of friends over the next several years, and would be in the same place or events occasionally. She has the kind of looks that make you assume things about her. Between her beauty and her air of confidence, she seems as though she doesn't need anybody. When I found out, at a Princess House Party, that she reads so much she occasionally offends people, I was shocked. She didn't 'look' like a reader. I know, who does? Even after this revelation, it was another five years before we forged a friendship, independent of those around us. Not surprisingly, it started over a book club. I found out that I had access to a treasure, all that time, and I didn't know it.

She is still beautiful, so much more so now, because of the strength that I know lies within her. She is quietly observant, withholding her opinion until she's ready. She is steadfast, committed to doing the right thing, committed to knowing what the right thing is. Her standards are high, but she is forgiving. She smile easily, laughs easily, and cries sometimes. She has been easy to be friends with. Not many people are. Most people object to my close relationship with my husband, and my children. She is too busy with the close relationships in her own life to be affected by mine. She has been at once, a relief and a joy. The best part about her is her ever-changing, ever-striving nature. She will not be the same friend a year from now. She will have grown, and learned new things. I am lucky to know her.

Happy Birthday BurpyKitty

Things that Make Me Happy

As you know, I have been a little stressed out lately. I started thinking yesterday about things that make me happy. I have always been able to extract joy from the mundane. I consider it one of God's gifts to me in exchange for some of the lousy cards I was dealt.

Here are some things that made me happy recently.

• Making quesadillas for XY1y and his two friends who dropped him off after school.


• XX11 letting me hug him for a long time in front of XX17's friends


• Going to the nursery to buy herbs, strawberry plants, tomato plants, peppers and spinach.


• Making a delicious dressing for salad with only four ingredients.


• My box of produce from the CSA


• The long hug I got from XX13 when she got home from school yesterday.


• Getting to go up to my room after the kids got home from school and hang out while Roser made dinner. (This made me really! happy.)

There are also things that make me happy in general. Cooking. Tucking XX5 in bed. Going in to kiss XY11 after he has gone to bed, and turning his radio down or off. Waking up and falling asleep next to my most favorite person in the whole wide world. I have many things in my life that still make me happy. I am still feeling a little weighed down by the world, but I know it is temporary.

What makes you happy?

My Eeyore Moment

I am reading Body Double by Tess Gerritsen. I am taking a break from literature in favor of escapism.

This has been a sucky Spring. Not just for me, for many people I know and love. Loved ones are dying, marriages are difficult, and children are going astray. Add in that most of us are working twice as hard for half as much money, I would say that Spring of 2008 rivals Fall of 2001 for highest concentration of lousy shit happening in a compressed amount of time. On the plus side, a very beautiful baby was born this Spring. Hope is alive.

With the many things going on, and difficulties, I feel my life being distilled. I want to figure out what is really important and focus on that. Problem is, I am not sure about what that is. I know the obvious, family, faith, health, but what does that really mean? Why do I buy organic vegetables and smoke? How do I balance my love for my husband, and my desire to spend time alone with him with my love for my children and their desire to spend time with me? Am I doing the right thing to prepare them for a life as Christians. Don't even get me started about education. Let's just say, I will not putting an order in for XY17's graduation cake too far ahead of time! After some thought, I will be putting a map in XX13's room. What do you, especially those of you who know me, but even those who don't, what do you think is important?

Just Checking In

I've been away awhile, I know. I don't have a good excuse, so I won't try. I am not feeling chipper, or clever, just letting you know I am alive. I am reading "I Am Legend" by Richard Matheson. Not surprisingly, it is better than the movie. Roser's mistress is back in town in the form of the San Diego Padres. I will be lonely and pining for his affections. Maybe I will spend more time on my blog.

Which one is for you?

I am so grateful for my book club. We always laugh, and drink. We discuss the book too. In addition to the laughing, drinking and literary discourse, some very important hypothetical questions are raised. The debate on Tuesday night was...Adam Sandler or Adrian Brody? Completely objectively I put the question to you. Doughy, aging fratboy, or lean sexy serious actor? I'll keep my vote to myself, but I would love to hear from you. Which nice Jewish boy floats your boat?

I have no real hope I will be able to explain what I am feeling right now, but I am compelled to try.
I am at the library finishing up some work. I have been working non-stop since Thursday, between editing and my own articles. I finished up and was sitting here with earphones plugged into my laptop so I could listen to my i-pod songs while I rejoice in being done. While I was sitting here a girl of about 11 came and sat in the same section as me. She is awkward, with long dark hair pulled back in a messy pony tail. She is dressed in nothing my own little princess (sarcastic) would wear. Worn shorts, baggy t-shirt, bunny ears, (for Easter I'm sure.) She is too tall for her age, with feathered eyebrows over wideset eyes. She is buried, nose first in a graphic novel. She has a look that is equidistant between defiance and apology. I know that look well. I wore it for years before defiance took over. Defiance was my answer to being rejected; by parents who would rather be dead than be with me, who would rather drink themselves unconscious, anything but be with me, hear me; rejection from peers. Most, not all, found my vocabulary off putting, my swift mood swings, my preference for the printed page to a living breathing companion unbearable. Defiance served me well for a while, until I found the One who would never reject me. My Savior and Creator led me to others, my husband, his family, dear friends. I sit here writing this, comfortable, happy, confident. I look again at this little girl, on the brink of growing up. I see the beauty hidden by the soft childishness of her facial contours. I can tell by the way she carries herself she has no idea she will, one day soon, be beautiful. I want to place my hand on her head and say, "It's okay, everything will be fine." I want to talk to her as though she were me, almost 30 years ago. I want to tell her, "You will beloved some day by the people that matter most." I want to tell her, "Keep reading, it will save your life." I want to tell her, "You matter." She's not me, but she could be. It is hard for me to see someone that reminds me of myself at that time of my life. I like myself so much now. I hate to be reminded of a time when I did not.

I Wanna Know What Bored Is....

Sung to the tune of "I want to know what love is," by Foreigner.

I have interviewed two restaurant owners, (married) and two married organic farmers in the past two days. Tomorrow at 8:30am, which is when I should be drinking my second cup of coffee, I will instead be interviewing another organic farmer. I blew off writing the articles I am working on today because my brother and sister-in-law were unexpectedly in town for a couple of days. We decided to go look at model home Roser and I are interested in and then go to lunch.They brought my crazy cracked out stepmother with them from Sin City. That's always fun. My brother and his wife were bickering nonstop. That was fun too. XX5's shoes overnight became too small, so she complained loudly and often about her pinkie toe getting squished. Still more fun. After lunch I ate an almond croissant just to put myself out of my misery.

I will be reading Unless for book club. That will not be miserable. I will be writing non-stop from 11am tomorrow until 11pm tomorrow evening to get my stuff in on time. I see another almond croissant in my future.

That was quite a response. Thank you so much. The truth is, after sitting with it a few days and dealing with the fall-out, I have come to a conclusion.

I like how the nose rings look. I had a strangely bonding moment with my 13 year old daughter. We were exhilarated and high-fived. It was better than going on a roller-coaster with her. I came to some other conclusions to.

I am a kick-ass wife and mother.

I am committed to my family.

My family has never had to deal with me wanting independence, or fulfilling my own needs before their own.

I was a punk in my teens with (for a short time) a mohawk. It was always combed down around my aunt. I was the type who put my real clothes in my back-pack and changed at school. I had to defy convention at every turn. I felt a need to stand out and separate myself from the crowd. It was no better in my early 20's.

As a mother, I have been perfectly conventional, except for my unusually cool I-Pod selections. If I want to walk around with an earring in my nose, then for frick's sake, everyone can just deal with it!

And if I want to have the kind of relationship with my children in which they run their rebellion past me, and you don't like it, well then, kiss my ass.

People will make judgements on my kids, but those who are willing to look below the surface, to get to know my kids, those people are in for a treat.

A Break From Drama

If there is ever a time during the month when it will be difficult to post everyday, it will be between now and the 20th. My deadline for turning my monthly articles is the 20th, and no matter how hard I try, I can never seem to get interviews done and information culled before the 17th. Tomorrow I have two interviews. I will then be writing non-stop until Thursday, except for a break Tuesday night for something I planned without thinking. Which is, of course, unusual for me because I usually consider things so carefully. (Insert rueful chuckle.) Roser came home from his trip with XY11. He was a sight for sore eyes, as was the hair lollipop. They got many autographs from ball players. I know you are all dying to know how Roser reacted to the piercing. Not telling. At least not now.

I am currently reading Cane River. It is a little too soon after Gone With the Wind to read a Southern book that includes the Civil War Period, but I have gone to far to stop now. I'm sure most of you know how that goes. What are you reading?

Running with the Bad Moms

I am so seldom in this position. I am usually running with the conservative moms. I am the one who doesn't let my kids watch South Park, or even watch PG13 movies before they are 13. I never let my boy's choneys (underwear) show when they sagged their jeans. My girls have to dress modestly all the time, no matter what. My kids have to call adults Mr. or Mrs., or at the very least, Miss, as in Miss Michelle. I allow my younger three children very little freedom without me.

Now, all of a sudden, I am in the other camp. I have made many decisions that made me unpopular with my kids. Now I have made a decision that has made me unpopular with parents whose opinion matters to me.

I thought I didn't care what people thought of me, but it turns out I do. I have always parented according to my conscience and it has served me well. My kids are amazing and overall we are a close family. I let XX13 get her nose pierced because I think it looks cute. I was willing to allow XY17 to pierce his lip because he is 17 and has earned the privilege of looking the way he wants by doing everything else right. He brought it up for the first time over a year ago. It has taken him that long to get his grades to what I required in order to say yes. I consider most piercings temporary in that once you remove the post, the remaining hole is nearly invisible. I would never agree to something I would consider permanent. I would never agree to the large wholes that many boys, and some girls put in their ears. I am for very long and thoughtful consideration before getting a tattoo. I recommend a year, minimum. I have also made my feelings clear about how I feel about tattoos. I am not a big fan. I have told my kids if at some point they get one, it should be someplace where it can only be seen if they are wearing a bathing suit.

I am adamant about allowing my children some autonomy with their appearance. I realize that people judge you on your looks. My children are experimenting with sending different messages. Unfortunately, I seem to be sending the loudest message of all.

Today was the Caribbean Queen's baby shower. I co-hosted it with JM at her house. It was just what you would expect at a baby shower for a little girl. An explosion of pink and flowers and fancy china.
JM, who has been my friend for 14 years was speechless when she saw XX13 and our pierced noses. I thought we would have to get the smelling salts. It was not pleasant. She got over it quickly though.

The Caribbean Queen is from St. Lucia, and always talks about her birthplace as though it were Heaven on Earth. She makes it sound like so much fun. She says that the food is so fresh that it makes you horny all the time. I am not sure if this is true or not, but I would love to find out.

Roser and XY11 are still out of town. Hopefully XX13 and her friend and I can watch either 'Scream' or 'May'. Both scary movies.

There were three readers at the shower. Very Nice.

See that puff of Smoke Floating By? That was my Parent Card

A few things. First, 'Nanny Diaries' is not a comedy. Do not be fooled. I have seen 'Feed the Children' commercials that were less depressing.

Second. I found out why XY17 has been in such a good mood. It clicked when he said he's had no appetite for a week. Her name is Faith.

Third. If you have been waiting for an opportunity to judge me...your wait is over.

XY17 texted me to ask me if I would take him to get a double lip piercing called 'snake bites'. I was at Costco when I got the text. I knew it was coming. XY17 mentioned it many times. I have always been very laid back about my children's appearance, as long as it is modest, and not disrespectful. Of course 'not disrespectful' is open to interpretation. XY17 has dreadlocks, and XX13 has been reprimanded at school for showing up with hot pink hair. I would be sad if at any time one of my kids chose to get tattooed, or got their ears stretched with those types of earrings. Beyond that, we can discuss it. I agreed to take XY17 to the tatoo parlor to get his lip pierced. Twice. I brought XX13 and XX5. XX13, for some time, has wanted to get the cartilage in her ear pierced. I didn't mind that at all. Then she brought up something we talked about months ago. She asked if she could get her nose pierced.

"Daddy will kill me dead," I said. She pushed a little. I gave vague answers. Finally, I jokingly said that if she got her nose pierced, I would have to get mine done. "You should!' the two older ones said.

We got to the tattoo parlor, in the same shopping center as a Smoke Shop and a radical clothing store. And many, many people smoking in the parking lot. We had to wait a slightly uncomfortable amount of time for the piercer to return from taking his car appointment. XY17 can't have facial piercings at work, so in order for this to work, he has to be able to put clear plastic retainers in while at work. We found out that the piercing had to heal for at least three weeks before you can put the plastic retainers in. It wasn't going to work. XY17 was very disappointed. XX13 asked if she could still get her piercings done.

"No," I said, "This was Xy17's day. We'll do it another day." We left for home. XY17 had a concert to go to. XX13 was sullen and silent. I was pissed and hurt. I had been looking forward to an evening with her. I spoke to her about it a little, but I could tell she was upset. After a while she apologized, but she was still very quiet.

We got in the car to go to Trader Joe's and Pinkberry. Then, in the car, she began to talk.

"It's just that XY11 got something special," (Baseball trip with Roser) "and XY17 get something special," (Concert an hour out of town) "and I have been so good, with all the stress on our family. I have really tried, and for me, I have really good grades. It's not fair." she said, ending with the universal lament. I could not argue with her. She has been so good. She tries to get along with her brothers. She helps take care of XX5. She seldom pouts, she never cries. She is unfailingly dependable.I told her she had to choose, ear cartilage or nose. She said nose. I called the tattoo parlor. Then I called Roser. He was not happy. But he wasn't going to say no. Neither was I. The other thing I could not do was have her go through it alone.

XX13 and I are both the owners of one extra hole in our heads decorated with lovely sparkling studs.

XY17 got in the car yesterday and announced there was a going away party for a friend of his who was going to prison. This was the first I had heard of it. XY17 doesn't have those kinds of friends. Most of his friends have been friends for years, and I know most of their parents. We are a conservative family oriented group of people. We are certainly not the type of people who have children who are convicted of felonies. My first thought was, 'How will this influence XY17'. We talked about it a little, and I decided to let him go. It is a boy he spends a lot of time with at school, and a close friend of one of XY17' best friends. In other words, as far as teenage boy's friendships go, this was a close one. I have always taught my kids to have compassion no matter what. I had to let him go.

I talked to Roser about it, after briefly considering lying about it. We agreed not to exploit the situation by trying to hammer home a lesson about responsibility and choices.By coincidence, I made one of XY17's favorite dinners, (chicken noodle soup) but he didn't eat a bite. He sat quietly on a chair, barely responding to my questions. Shame on me, I didn't realize how preoccupied he was with his friend's situation.

He finally said, "What do I say to him?"

I wasn't thinking about how serious it was. "The best thing to say to someone in a tragic situation is just 'I'm sorry'," I said.

When he got back, just before 10pm, I was already getting in bed. He didn't have his key, so I had to go down and let him in. I made just a little small talk with him, expecting to go back up to bed, but I could tell, for the first time in months, he wanted to talk. I sat at the kitchen table while he leaned up against the counter.

"I wish you could have met him. He really is great guy in spite of everything." I believed him. He had already told me the kid had a really rough upbringing. He got his diploma yesterday, several months ahead of time. XY17 was sure he would make good use of his time in prison to get his Associates Degree.

"It's so weird to think, he's going away for to years. Not to college though. Someone I saw almost every day is just gone." And then my six foot tall, 22o pound 17 year old son did the most surprising thing.

He cried.

He cried, and let me hold him for a moment. "I'm so sorry," I whispered into his neck, the very thing I told him to say to his friend. "I'm so sorry," I repeated, "This is a lousy way to be introduced to the grown-up world."

I let him go and he wiped his face. "D's truck got stuck and we all had to pick it up and push it," he said with a misty eyed grin. The tears spilled over again as he said, "Just like every other weekend." He quickly wiped his face again, and turned away to get water. I know he and a I and all of his friends were realizing how many times their friend would think of his last night with his friends.

I had to put my 'Mom-Hat' on for at least a little while. "The best thing you can do for your friend is pray for him every day. What he has to face won't be easy. You pray that he makes good choices while he is in there and stays safe. The other thing you can do is live your life well. Don't squander your freedom or take it for granted. You have an opportunity to further your education and pursue your dreams. Right now your friend doesn't."

I would never want my child to think about things like 'What will happen to my friend in prison?' I would never choose for my child to have a friend that would make a decision that could get him convicted of a felony. I know, though, that at different times in our lives, we may be tempted to make decisions that we never would at another time. Some times these decisions have dire consequences, other times the whole thing is nothing, swept under the rug. I don't know what will happen with this. I don't know if my son will stay friends with this boy, or if it will be an 'out of sight, out of mind' thing. I want to protect my boy from everything, but know that he must be strong enough to withstand the influence of others.

As for me, I will be praying for this boy. As hard as I am, as much as I believe in being tough on crime, it is a tragedy that a 17 year old boy, not even to the beginning of his life, will be in prison for two years, and then, for the rest of his life, an ex-con. If you want to pray for him, his name is Joshua.

The Hair Lollipops

To make up for telling XY11 I couldn't take him to the skate park, I told him he could have some friends over and skate in the cul de sac or go to the neighborhood park. He came with one of his friends, named Christian or Cody or Daniel, because as far I can tell, all of his friends are called Christian or Cody or Daniel. XY11 showed up with his skinny tight jeans, skate shirt and long puffy/shaggy hair. Christian/Cody/Daniel also had...tight skinny jeans, skate shirt and long puffy/shaggy hair. A third boy showed up, another Christian/Cody/Daniel looking just like the first two. By the time the fourth boy showed up, I am embarrassed to say I had a hard time picking XY11 out of the crowd. It was like football season. They all had bony shoulders stretching out there faded t-shirts, and holes in the knees of there jeans. The only thing not angular and slim on these 10 and 11 year old boys was their gravity defying hair. They all looked liked Tootsie Pops that had been dropped in cat hair. They looked like hair lollipops.

A fourth boy showed up named Brock. That was not his only nod to individuality. He had a baseball cap with a skate logo on his mass of hair. It had to be an extra large.