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.

Confessions of a Peeping-House Tom

I love looking at houses. I could spend days and days perusing neighborhoods and looking into lamp-lit living-room windows. I know, sounds more like a Peeping Tom, but it’s true. The warm friendly glow from those windows is somehow reassuring that someone is home, and some people are longing to be there. For years, I thought that to have the perfect home, I had to have the perfect house, but then I  grew up and realized, what’s perfect?

For years I’ve driven everyone within earshot crazy about how the house should be kept. “Why isn’t this put up? Why didn’t you clean up your mess? Who left their shoes in the middle of living room so I could trip and die?” Does any of this sound familiar? Now I’m not home for the length of hours I previously was, and I can’t help thinking, what the heck was all of that about? It didn’t make my life any easier, and it certainly didn’t make anyone around me happy. So much for the reassuring glow coming from our living room windows. If I’m not careful our house could just be a place to clean and sleep, when what we want is a home.

Because of that, my idea of a dream house keeps changing. Since there really is no such thing as a self-cleaning home, I’ve found that the McMansions that I longed for in yesteryears would be a nightmare for me because unless we hit the jackpot or 4Gaby goes international with tours (hey, help a girl out here), I’m the numero uno who gets to do the majority of the cleaning. Who wants to clean a house for 16  hours on the weekend instead of enjoying family? For goodness sake, I know there are days I’d love to hop in the car and drive till the gas gauge hits empty, but surprise, I really do love my family and I’d like to be with them doing something a little less mundane. I’m not talking hang gliding, but days at the park are a treasure, as opposed to days in our yard.

Our yard is a complete monster! Having privacy between neighbors comes with a back-breaking price tag called yard work. I don’t know the amount of hours my husband and I have put into our yard in the past, desperately hoping that maybe one day we’d get yard of the month. Now I honestly love yard work, it beats dusting hands down because the yard usually stays nice for a few days. I can clean the house and in the space of a few hours it can be demolished. Still, how much time do I want to spend in the yard when the kids grow like weeds and you blink and they’re gone? Um…not so much. My idea now of yard of the month is the kids laughing outside and the family together. Top that pretty committee.

The houses in the little town where I work intrigue me. There are huge plantation-like homes and little bungalows, mixed in with big and little Victorian treasures, and I love walking by them at lunch. I go through a mental checklist; too big, too small, huge yard, needs lots of work, lovely garden, and just right. Every morning I drive by the same houses on my way into work and one little Cape Cod always has its lamps lit in the downstairs windows and I find that somehow comforting yet again. I guess it’s because each house should have its own glow.

By the day’s end, I pull down my own driveway to my messy, tangled yard and walk into a living room way too full of an overly energetic 5-year-old’s toys. I pass by my teen’s bedroom on the way to throw my work clothes into the laundry room and I know it will take a shovel to find the floor in her room. I come back down the stairs and look at a dining room table seldom used and round into the kitchen to fix supper, and then it hits me. We’re around the table, my daughter babbling about her day, my son vying for attention by making ridiculous faces and my husband looking at me with a distinctly glazed and tired face. We bow our heads, say a prayer, and tuck in. We get up together and clear the dishes and the kids go play. Either my husband or I will get our son down for the night, and then we discuss what’s on the agenda for the next day.

We’re home; it’s a safe place where we come together, sometimes in chaos, sometimes in peace. We’re tucking in to make it work, praying and bowing our heads when we’re smart enough to realize we have a house to come home to and be together in. No, it’s not perfect and it never will be. But there are those fleeting moments, now and again where we go “Ahhhhhh.” Be it ever so humble, with or without its lamp-glowing room, there’s no place like home.

Extra, Extra! Just Try to Read All About It.

I learned how to read with the help of my Mama and older sisters, and what really generated the want to read was the Sunday comics. There was nothing like getting the punch line in “Peanuts” all by myself. I found you could converse with the adults around you if they read the comics and liked them. My Daddy seemed to like “Beetle Bailey” and Mrs. Kane, who we called our “Raleigh Grandmother,” loved “Family Circus.”  There was a time when I got into “Prince Valiant,” but then college started and I didn’t have time for the paper.

A few years later the paper was once again in hand. This time the interest was in the want ads; we didn’t have Linked In or computer postings of jobs. The Internet was still neo-natal and we found jobs by meeting people and actually applying in person. I picked up odd jobs and one was tutoring a couple of guys who had difficulty reading English. I found that the comics did it again. Their interest was immediately sparked and they thought “B.C.” was the bee’s knees. Their English writing and reading skills took off after that, and I missed them when they no longer needed me. It was my first experience teaching anything, and it was wonderful.

I started to enjoy more of the paper--Lifestyles, and Art and Leisure were favorites, but nothing beat the Sunday paper.  It was thick with all sorts of surprises. Coupons, free offers, good news, bad news, rows and rows of jobs needed, you could hold the Sunday paper in two hands and build muscles. It took you most of Sunday and sometimes parts of Monday to finish the Sunday paper, cover to cover, and it’s sad to say, but those days look about to end.

My husband has been on a coupon kick and has been getting the Sunday paper faithfully now, if not for the news, for the coupons. I still find myself reaching for the comics first, looking forward to the surprise of a chuckle from someone getting to my funny bone. Have you seen the size of the papers now? Holy microscope, Batman! They’re flipping tiny! I tried to read the comics for 30 minutes before I gave up and got the magnifying glass. I don’t need glasses for reading, but I swore up and down something was wrong with my eyes, because I couldn’t read any of the bubbles over the characters’ heads in “Zits” or “Funky Winkerbean.” Geez! I felt awful until my daughter told me she had a hard time reading them, too.

What a shame. Here I am, a combo of the newspaper and computer age, and the newspapers are cutting down the size so small that those of us who actually appreciate the crinkling sound of the paper when you turn a page can’t enjoy it. We simply can’t see to read it! I know in order to compete in these economic times there have to be cutbacks, but what good is that when you shoot down the quality of a product? Reading the news on the Internet isn’t the same. How will we collect headlines for those special times like our parents did? My Mama had the paper from when Queen Elizabeth and President Eisenhower opened the Saint Lawrence Seaway. The front page of the Canadian paper was in full color and it was a dream. There is nothing like learning about the past by holding its headlines in your hands.

When I went overseas with my husband all my friends asked for little souvenirs. When we came home with suitcases full of newspapers, no one was disappointed. They loved reading the news overseas and commenting on similarities in culture, as well as any differences. While you can pick up a lot online, I doubt you can do all of the above. I understand the need to conserve and save trees, but I thought we had the recycling thing in hand, so I find it hard to use this as an excuse for the demise of the newspaper. It will be akin to losing a good, good friend if this comes to pass. I hope things turn around, I’d like to hear my son belly laugh one day because of the comics, but right now, the funnies don’t appear too funny anymore. 

See what I mean?

Headlines, and Commercials, OH MY!

Today's entry was already prepared, already edited, and you'll just have to see it some other time. It just felt too serious even though it had my snark sprinkled all through it. But it's Friday, and Fridays call for a celebration. So I thought I'd throw out some headlines and commercials and my reaction to them. Imagine I've lifted my right eyebrow, something I can't do, but always wished I could. Oh, and give me a deliciously superior accent. Hey, while you're at it, I'd like to be tall and skinny...taking it too far ain't I? OK, without further ado...headlines and commercials:

There's a commercial for a new dog treat and it uses the line, "they look homemade".  How reassuring. My dog always stops to review how aesthetically pleasing his food appears. I can tell he's doing that in the microsecond he takes before he starts eating it.

"Kardashians' Ink New $40 Million TV Contract" - This comment comes via Mary - "Please tell me they're paying them to stop" - and no such luck with that. The good news to take from this is that if you have ridiculously attractive children with no discernible talents, there is hope. For the rest of us, we need to keep cracking that study and work whip.

"'Bachelor' Host, and Wife Ending Marriage" - I guess seeing all those ridiculously happy marriages that have resulted from this show, oh, wait...never mind.

"Man Who Dressed as Dead Mother Guilty of Fraud" - Yeah, that's not the only thing he's guilty of...

"Rio de Janeiro Stripping Away Visual Pollution" - Darn. I was so looking forward to the People of Wal Mart - Rio edition.

The Camry commercial that talks about life in a Camry. Forgive me, but except for a DeSoto or a Delaurean, can't most car brands claim all those life events? Get over yourselves. Losing a tooth in a car does not make me want to buy a new one. It makes me want to go to the dentist...maybe.

"Pepsi Brings Back Michael Jackson for New Ad Push" - Well, this is a new idea. Reincarnation as a product benefit. We all want to buy a product pushed by a guy who died at 50.

Ok - I've probably pushed the limit on a few of my comments, but let me know if you see anything wacky. Laughing on a Friday should be a requirement of life!

Back Seat Conversations in May

I’m in one of those moods. Menopause does that to you or so I’ve heard. I just feel like listing some pet peeves. It makes you feel all deliciously superior especially when done with no makeup on and no one around to point out all your own faults – in other words the cat is sleeping and the dog is fed, the kids at school and the hubby gone to his job.

So here goes:

Must every establishment I frequent now ask me if I want to contribute one dollar to their chosen cause du jour? Cause I don’t want to. So I don’t sound as Ebenezer as all that, I need to say that we contribute to charity both financially and time wise (well my time and hubby’s hard earned financials). I have no overwhelming desire to make some big company look better by giving a dollar here and a dollar there and I resent being asked when I just came in to pick up some lousy poster board for the kids projects. So stop asking me already. Put a sign up there, I’ll read it and let me tell you. Cause I can, if I want to.

When did yellow become the new green? I ask because it seems that rarely does a day pass that I don’t see someone run a light. Cause if you approach it at the speed of light and it’s yellow, then faster than the speed of light it becomes RED. To get to the kids high school I have to pass over a major interstate. And apparently everyone is just dying to get on that interstate cause they don’t stop for nothing. But as I keep explaining in colorful language to my 15 year old, who will be driving soon, we hope, their failure to stop means one day they just might die. So either recognize your colors or get a freakin’ helicopter so you can fly over top of the rest of us who don’t want to die.

Speaking of driving, one more constant lecture point that I keep giving to my teenagers – put up your freakin’ phone and drive, uhh, bless your hearts.  Invariably if I pass someone who is driving like an idiot I can glance over and see your phone. It’s either your phone or you bought one earring off of somebody like Snookie or whatever her name is. I know driving can be boring, but I’m pretty dang sure that most of us have nothing so pressing that we need to be on the phone AT THAT EXACT MOMENT. Of course that’s easy for me to say – I relish some peace and quiet.

That’s just today’s list. Feel free to check with me tomorrow. Cause my mood is ever changing – just like those traffic lights y’all keep ignoring.