B S M F - It Ain't What You're Thinkin'

So who watched the opening and closing ceremonies of the London Olympics? Impressive, huh? Can you imagine organizing that? I'm sure the organizers were overwhelmingly busy. But who I feel sorry for are all the people who volunteered to help. 
I am a semi-professional volunteer. Now that our sons are old enough to tell 'em to go take a shower and fix their own sandwich, I fill in my time with some volunteer work. Some of my volunteer work still revolves around them and their activities, and some is my own stuff. But I'm a helpin'...yeppers. I chaperone, I organize, I attend...all that stuff except dance and sing. I can't sing (though by my reckoning, neither could Russell Brand - see the Olympics Closing Ceremony), and my dancing would further humiliate the teen sons (which I try to keep at home...or on Facebook).
When I was young, and very poor putting myself through college, I had a saying - free, cheap or somebody else's. It helped remind me that I couldn't afford stuff those sorority girls were doing. And now I have a new rule - BSMF. Now, now, it isn't what you're thinking. Read on (or skip ahead).
See what I've discovered as my volunteering universe has hit the big bang theory is that when you volunteer, it's like an explosion of the cosmos. Everyone thinks you have time to help them and their organization, toooooooo. Moreover they also seem to think that their organization is the only one you're helping, or it's the only one that is worthy or it's the only one that has an emergency. 'Taint so, people.
Those of us who volunteer tend to be doing it for more than one organization. Many of us also hold jobs with an actual paycheck, and have that pesky other organization called a family. We can't jump through your hoop, don't matter how you hold it.
So I have a new rule, and I love it. Though I expect some people are gonna hate me and tell me how wrong I am. But here it is, the BSMF rule for volunteering:
B - Blood, S - Stroke, M - Marriage, F - Friends
Are you related to me by blood? Are you stroking me an actual paycheck vital to our survival? Are you related to me by marriage (not less important than blood, just the initials are awfully easy to remember in this order)? Are you a friend of such magnitude that you really could fall in the related to me category, except you're not?
If you do not fit the BSMF qualification than when you call and expect me to drop everything to show up at a meeting two days from now so you can give me unpaid work, I consider my list - BSMF. I find my volunteering feels so much less like an obligation now that I have freed myself to say no if I need to. It's the freedom of the acronym, baby! Gotta go now. I've got a volunteer project to finish. One I'm enjoying, thanks to the acronym - BSMF freedom.

A List For My Children, On Mother’s Day.

Understand that I am your Mother. I will never hold the place of friend while you are growing up.

I am human and I make mistakes, but I eat my vegetables and so should you.

I love you beyond anything I have ever known and I will fight for you, but I will not lie for you or buy you out of scrapes.

I will call you out when you haven’t done your best, because I know you’re worthy and so very full of potential. You are a wonder and unique in this world. When you do not do your best, you cheat yourself above all others.

My past is mine; I will not lay it on your future. Yours is a clean slate, and you should follow your heart.                 

I do not command respect; I have earned it with every late night filled with worry, with every wipe of a tear from your faces, with every diaper change and so much more.

Each time you mutter under your breath as you walk away, or roll your eyes, or think I don’t get it, is yet another battle scar that I wear well, and I find worth wearing.

Each accomplishment is your own, and I revel in it with you. I applaud the loudest because I know how you worked hard. No one will ever revel in your glory more.

No matter what the future holds, I will always be there for you, as long as God graces me to be here.                                             

Finally, for Mother’s Day, the best way you can honor me, and those who came before, giving me what I give you, is to be loving and kind, thoughtful and giving. To find happiness within yourself and to know you have always been loved.

As SpongeBob states – “I’m Ready, I’m Ready…………..”

Brace yourselves parents it's coming… D-day is nearly here for most of us, and we are counting down. I have the celebratory wine chilling in the fridge, and the 20 million water bottles ready and waiting to go in the garage. School is nearly starting other than for one teeny, tiny obstacle to be overcome. We still have to run the back-to-school supply list gauntlet.

This mania has Black Friday beat. I am convinced that shops everywhere are bracing themselves for this week. Every year I swear to myself, God, or indeed anyone who will listen to me over the age of 18, that I will not lose control in Staples or Target. I pledge that I will NOT swear uncontrollably to the innocent shop assistant if they do not have anymore three holed pocket folders in bright pink. I will control my facial expressions, keep them 'poker faced ', when my son insists that the most expensive calculator will help him achieve higher marks in his math class. I will resist stamping my feet like a 5 year old because they only have clear glue and not white as my daughter cries uncontrollably since she is sure she will be making slime in science this year. No, I will not panic as I fight through the crowds to purchase endless reams of loose leaf paper only to find the lucky ones had scooped up the precious college ruled packs, leaving me to console my 14 year old that he will not look like a nerd with wide ruled. After all, what are a few millimeters between friends?

Pencils are another story - 2HB is the call of the schools. Great, they are everywhere, but this Shakespearean sonnet sound-alike is a minefield. Do you get the cheapest knowing that within one day your well supplied child will have mislaid them, and also knowing that every single one does not sharpen as its lead that has been shattered into a million pieces, probably by the aforementioned shop assistant, who had dropped the whole case whilst being chased by an over eager parent? Or, do you go for the technical, mechanical ones which are for the most part a huge NO-NO, and just let your child be the one who gets labeled as 'the one with the parent who cannot read the list properly'.

Pink erasers this year seem to be necessary. What happened to white or are we now trying to be politically correct and pink is the new in? However, there is a plus to this; at least the pencils seem to all come with pink erasers on top. Yes, I know they will become a daily part of my children's diet as they munch on them in class (the granola bars just don't taste the same) but who cares, I am focusing on my parent-of-the-year award for having the right supplies.

Then once we are done with the stationary side of things, we find ourselves moving onto the sanitary section. Oh how we love our germ-free schools. The fear factor is before us. It shouts "your child needs these items - Cleanliness is next to Godliness!". I agree for the most part, and I do pity our poor teachers as they battle with germ-infested children but, seriously, do I really need to supply tissues, hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes and much more? Can we not just wrap them up in a self-sanitizing body suit, give them a facial mask, surgeon's gloves, and have a heat (fever) detector installed on all the main entrances? After all, isn't that how airports do it? Better still, lets jab them as they enter with flu shots. You may laugh, but in England, when I was a child, we all lined up for the BCG vaccine (Tuberculosis), and like sitting ducks we sweated as the end of the line neared. A little of what we had to go through may be a good learning curve for our precious ones. If all parents clubbed together the money, we are to spend on these products, we could afford those sensors I am sure!

So what is a parent to do? Already as I write this, I can feel the stress rising. No, I am not going to let it get me! I am going to get my coffee, combine my lists (2 children, 2 lists), and face the day like a combat soldier, and for those of you who have already successfully planted your kids back in school, and completed the gauntlet, I tip my hat to you. Sit back and heave a sigh of relief. Pity my pain. Hindsight is a glorious state of mind.

Do the Beige or the Purples Have It?

I continued my discussion on bucket lists in this month's "It's on the List" column with a spot-check inventory of stuff I’ll never do again and stuff I will do again. Being beige appears to be a surprise theme. How beige are you? Do you embrace blending in, or do you stand out? Was I too hard on the beige among us? Do you think in purple but walk in beige? What kind of cognitive dissonance does that wreak? Not behaving how I feel has its costs. Have you paid a price for being beige or purple?

How about living in a beige neighborhood? Likes, dislikes? I want to hear from the other side, those who appreciate and revel in the hoods with same-color mailboxes. A friend of mine says “It’s easier to do what everyone else is doing.” Agree?

Would you wear a Snuggie to a football game?

Are you up on all the trends?

Are you a Room Mom?

What was on your list? What’s on your “things to try” list?

Listless and Free

My latest column talked about the sabbatical my chronic list-making took ("The Surprising Sabbatical of My Lists"). The new routine of no-routine in summer caught me with my list down, and I reveled in it. The gift of a gift card also had its way with me, so my normal grocery list got thrown out the window. Along with my son out of school for summer, I also started a job that required I be gone half the time, which took up so much mental space that I forgot to list make (although I probably needed it more). Things were left undone, but I didn’t mind. Freedom from the list, listless, we enjoyed our free time.

Did summer stymie your to-do lists, or did they change in nature?

What was on your beach reading list? Really.

If you went from SAHM to working Mom, did your lists change?

Or, alternately, if you went from working Mom to SAHM, did they change?

What was on your summer vacation list?

Do your children make lists?

What in the world of Target would be on your list if you received a gift card?

On a completely random note, what do you think of the new ruling that 4-year-olds can now be sued, the little criminals?

Chained to my Lists

Chained to my Lists

In the inaugural column of “It’s on the List,” I discussed my inveterate list-making origins.

-Can you trace your list-making habits to heredity, or is it something else, like a learned trick to manage our fast-paced stimulating world?
-What do your lists look like? Are they on nice paper, scraps, or digital? Do they have an app for that?
-Do your lists help, or do they indict you?
-Do your lists keep you organized?
-Do your lists keep you procrastinating?
-What kind of odd things are on it?
-What could we tell about you as a person by reading your lists?

Share your story here with us. We’ll pick our favorite, and put you on our list.