Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Deal Breaker

The other night I was at book club when we got in a discussion about deal breakers. The main character in the book we were discussing had listed those things that were so loathsome to him, that if when he met someone they possessed any of these traits, he dismissed all possibility of forming a relationship with that person. The question was asked, ok, so what is YOUR deal breaker? The conversation took an amazing turn and soon our laughter bordered on hysteria.

Our book club consists of a variety. Me, the old married woman with grown (or almost grown) children. Younger moms of small children, young wives, and young single women. (Did you catch that I am the oldest–uh huh...I’m learning to embrace it!). Obviously with the diversity that is in our group we were going to have some definite differences in what our deal breakers were. Obviously some of us are out of the dating scene. I was having a hard time trying to think of what my deal breaker was until one of the women shared that she had once dated a man who had recently won a school bus driving competition. That was it! Something to start my deal breaker list–must not enter school bus driving competitions for entertainment! There, I came up with one.

From that point I could come up with several–IF I was young and single. I think the list would look something like this:


1. Must not live with his Mother.


2. Must have a full-time job that does not result in the creation of stinky laundry.


3. Must not wear jeans with a waist size that is smaller than mine.


4. Must not have any facial tattoos


5. Must only ingest garlic at the same time as me


6. Must have access to facilities for regular bathing and use said facilities on a regular basis


There, I think that is enough.  Oh and for the record...I LOVE my new book club.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Ode to Kirt.

Our oldest daughter, Kirsten (aka Kirt, aka Bif), is in the midst of her high school senior year.  She has started the flurry of applications.  College applications, scholarship applications, job applications.  She is also thoroughly enjoying being 17.  She makes us laugh on a daily basis.  So much life.  Not that she doesn't have her dark moods sometimes, but I am learning to just leave her be when I sense those.  I think what I love the most about her is that she is not intimidated to just be herself.  She has no problem making a total goof of herself.  If people think she is strange, she could care less.  She is serious when she needs to be, but at times she also can still play like a 5 year old.  I hope that part never changes.  I was looking thru her pictures from this year, and wanted to share a few.  I think you will get idea of Kirsten's fantastic spirit when you look at these shots:


last spring, but still part of her 'Year 17'
 

This was last spring.  I would venture a guess to say the one thing she DOESN'T like about being a senior is that Marcus is away at college.





she is beginning to enjoy spending time with Annika...not ALL the time, but it is nice to see them do things together.




High School Spirit Week, each day a dress-up.  She is on ASB so she gladly uses the official excuse to go crazy:


'Fashion Disaster Day', with our 'other daughter' Erika

Media Day--Dressed as Maverick and Ice Man

80s Day...and yes, that belt was mine in 1985!


Blue & White Day--Erika and Lynea told her that she looked like a pirate.


I think that hands down this is the most creative way to ask someone to go to Tolo.


Which led to them deciding what else they could spell with T-O-O-L...and a little harmles prank ensued...

She LOVES to go hiking with Cleetus (aka Erika)


and sometimes Lynea gets to go too...


This picture CRACKS.ME.UP....Kirsten is never far from her Burts Bees chapstick...its a little OCD.



I am going to miss that face when she heads to college next fall!




Monday, October 18, 2010

Ah yes, Monday mornings.

I think that most people hate Monday mornings.  At a minimum they do not look forward to them, unless maybe you are leaving on a fabulous vacation.  I think I am pretty safe when I say that if people were surveyed, they would most often describe Mondays as their least favorite day of the week.  When school is in session, my Monday mornings start generally at about noon on Sunday.  That is when the dread of begins to set in.  By noon Sunday I have usually already heard once 'I don't want to go to school tomorrow'.

Sunday afternoon is a back and forth as to why my youngest shouldn't have to go to school the next day. 

'Can I go to a new school?'.  '
When can we move?'. 
'Can you homeschool me again?'. 

These are all queries that I am hit with EVERY Sunday afternoon.  On Monday, my morning begins with my youngest crawling in bed with me.  Oh and let's not forget that Kaja, the cat, comes with her.  Usually Kaja walk over my head a few times, bites at my hand, jumps off the bed several times, only to scare the crap out of me when she pounces back up on top of me.  The Monday morning bed conversation usually consists of a handful of statements which are repeated over and over again. 

'Do I have to go to school today?' 
'I'm so tired.'
'My stomach hurts'.

Finally after 30 minutes of the back and forth, Annika drags herself out of my bed and heads upstairs to get ready.  Now that I am home, I try to get up and make her breakfast, with the hope that maybe some eggs or pancakes will make everything better.  It generally doesn't work, but it is worth a try.

This morning was no exception.  Consequences were threatened and she hesitantly stomped off to school.  I knew that wouldn't be the end of it.  I was right.  A mere 70 minutes passed before I got the first text and the frantic pleas began:

A:  Please get me out of here im crying in the bathroom k. is being really mean with the things she is saying im done mom DONE!

me:  U have to stay.  i am sorry about k. u can do it. if u come home u miss too much.

A:  Mom no ok im done with this school cant i just do online public school we talked about it before school i cant do this mom ;-(

me:  I love u..just try to brush it off..u dont deserve that. show her u dont care...dont beg her to b your friend. she should beg u.

A:  Mom! Please help me i cant do this u think its soo easy so u put me thru this please talk to dad or something.

me:  That is not an option..that would be worse for u. trust me

A:  Mom, i know i will get in trouble for txting u and if i go home but wut are the consequences if i go home

me:  Annika I do not think it is easy and i am not putting u thru this.  i just know that it is better for u to b at school even to it is really hard.  no more txts or i take your phone.

A:  Please dont ignore me.

me:  I'm not I am at the store.

A;  Mom i don't care wut the consequence is just take me home!

me:  Driving.

A:  to the school?

me:  No.

A:  I hate u!  Get me please!

me:  Turning phone off.  ily

A:  Im gonna hurt myself if u guys dont get me.

A:  I mean it!

Ah yes, Mondays and all that go with them.  I think I need to go have some Baileys in my coffee.  Maybe some bacon...yup, maybe some bacon.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

WHAT is the big hurry?

I did it again.  The past six weeks I have tried really hard not to, but I caught myself again today.  Doing what?  Well I found myself in 'bat out of hell' mode.
Before crossing the bridge into semi-retirement-ville, I was in bat out of hell mode 24/7.  It wasn't just because on average our family's weekly calendar is filled with doctor appointments, committee meetings, school, work, small group activities, youth group activities, and school events.  That I could handle.  It was the frantic anxiety associated with being on time to all these obligations that did it.  The kind of circus act juggling routine that most Americans find themselves in.  The stress that I would put on myself to go through this myriad of activities with my idea of perfection was killing me.
The other day I was driving to a doctor appointment in Bellingham.  I had left in plenty of time and found that I was NOT driving 10-15 miles over the speed limit, but instead was motoring along at a mere 5 mph over the speed limit.  I was sipping a latte' that I had managed to make BEFORE I left the house.  I felt, CALM.  It was a new feeling.  I don't think I could remember the last time I had driven to an appointment in such a manner.  I almost felt sleepy.
I pulled up to the 4-way stop and sat and looked at the other drivers.  Every single one was a woman, looking harried, waiting inpatiently for their turn to cross thru.  It struck me....THAT is what I have looked like for years.  I made a pact with myself to never return to that fever pitch mode again.
Now today, I broke the pact.  I will remind myself that it was just a slight slip.  No harm, no foul.  Next time I will just try not to get so many tasks done before I have to leave home.  The laundry can wait and so can the litter box.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

What are you planning to do with that?

In my state of semi-retirement, I decided that I needed to spend more time on activities that nourish me. After years of sitting at a desk, pushing paperwork around, I really wanted to tap my creative side. There is only so much napping and book-reading I can do. Cooking is great, but I also knew I shouldn’t have my days revolve around food. The natural activity I gravitated towards was sewing.

I learned to sew when I was a little kid. My Grandma C taught me. I still remember the first project she had me do. It was a small pink pillow and I used all the creative stitches that our old New Home machine could put out. Each row I would change the thread to a different color. The finished project wasn’t too shabby. Grandma kept that pillow for years.

I hauled out all of the boxes of old notions, buttons and fabrics that I have stored and moved MANY times. I spent days organizing and setting up a small sewing corner. Dean has been patient as I have slowly overtaken our exercise room with all things fabric and sewing related. I even bought a new sewing machine and serger, replacing that old New Home machine that I learned on as a kid.. I’ve scoured books for ideas of projects that I want to attempt. Then, I reentered the world of the fabric store.

I love looking at all there is in a fabric store. My first trip, I selected a few bolts and went to the cutting counter. That is where I first discovered that those cutting ladies are N-O-S-Y.

‘What are you making?’, they would ask as they rolled out the fabric and cut the strips I requested. I was a little taken back by the question. What did THEY care? I felt like coming up with some crude response. ‘Oh I’m just making matching costumes for me and my husband’s role playing night. You see, every Tuesday is role playing night and I wanted to whip up a few new costumes. We like to keep things fresh and vibrant you see’. I decided against that. Instead I mumbled something, grabbed the goods and left the cutting area.

On the way home, I started wondering why I felt so insecure about telling them what I had in mind for the yardage. Was it because I thought they might tell me that they thought that was a terrible idea? That I didn’t look like I had any skill to fashion the cloth into what I described? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just a random question and it won’t happen again.

BUT.IT.DID. The next trip to the cutting counter, I was greeted with the same question, ‘what are you going to make?’. This continued, each trip to the store. It even happened at another fabric store close to home. What is THIS? Why do they care what I am doing. Is nothing sacred? Each time I have mumbled a reply...not sure what to tell them. I have watched others at the counter proudly declare what project they have in mind of creating. Why do I think I’m so special that I can’t reveal details?

Me, being me, began to think about this whole fabric-store-clerk-question-phenomena. I should probably add that the frequented fabric store is 30 minutes from my house, so I had some time. When you go to Victoria’s Secret and you select an item and take it to the counter, does the clerk ask you ‘what are you going to do with this?’. When you go thru the check-out line at Target and you have a cart full of items, does that clerk ask you, ‘what are you going to do with this?’. When I’m at Macy’s and purchase a new top, do they ask me ‘are you going to wear this?’. NO.THEY.DO.NOT. So why, oh why is it SO important to the fabric slashers to know about my creative plans?

I don’t know, but I DO know I need to come up with a better reply than my current mumble. Hmmmmmmm, this could be fun.