Mom of the Year

I am going to give myself an award. Many of you think you deserve this award, but I assure you – it is mine.

I get the Bad Mom Award.

It all started seven years ago when I got a nursing degree. I am very compassionate with anyone outside of my family, but within the family, I think it is whispered behind my back that I am a bit of a Nurse Ratched (imagine that!). When I got the nursing degree, I began to think that I knew what I was doing. When I tell my husband when he has a fever, “You're not sick. Get up and caulk that bathroom,” I feel that since I have that RN behind my name, I know what's going on. Perhaps not.

It was a year ago that my son got slammed into a wall while playing indoor soccer. He's young. He's flexible. When he started complaining that his back hurt, I raised an eyebrow and gave him an ice pack. A few months later, I took him to the chiropractor. It helped, but the pain came back. I figured that the kid had never had aches and pains – he just hadn't learned to ignore it. Another month of ice and Advil, and I said, “Okay. I'll get it x-rayed.” I said this begrudgingly, which I am truly sad to admit.

It turned out that the poor boy had a bi-lateral stress fracture of his vertebrae. Bad Mom Award.

Then there was the time my daughter said that she had an upset stomach before going to school. “You're just tired,” the Mom of the Year said. “Brush your teeth.” After which, the girl proceeded to throw up her entire breakfast (and probably the previous night's dinner) in the sink. Again, Bad Mom Award.

And then this week. My daughter had missed gymnastics last week for a stomach ache. I had been lax. I had given in easily and allowed her to miss without so much as a temperature check. So, when she met me after school this week and said that her stomach hurt again on a gymnastics day, my head spun around a couple of times and I said, “You're not sick. You're just tired.” Hm, I sense a pattern here.

She replied with tears and a loud voice saying, “Mom! I'm really sick! Why don't you believe me?”

My answer was, of course, “Quit yelling.” I still didn't believe her.

We made it to the car and I gave in to her squalls by dropping by our house instead of going straight to the gym. “Just take my temperature!” she wailed.

I bared my teeth at the poor child and said, “Okay, fine. But if you don't have a fever, you are going.”

She did not have a fever. I said, “Get dressed. We're going,” which set off another round of “Mom! I'm really sick!”

I narrowed my eyes and said, “Okay. You stay home, but you are not moving off of that couch. No TV. No iPod.”

The girl slept for two hours. She really was sick. Bad Mom Award.

So don't feel bad. You are a good mom. You just might want to avoid my house if you're ever feeling sick. I might make you go caulk the bathroom.

Wanderlust

I want to travel. I have a burning passion to see and experience as much of the world (and beyond) as I can. If Star Trek became reality, I would be at the front of the line to go.

My sons say, “Then just go.” I would love to, but I’m just not that selfish, surprisingly. I will give up my trip to Italy this year to pay my sons’ college tuition.

But that doesn't mean that I’m giving up on traveling…

I am blessed to live in a culturally abundant area. I traveled to India today as a matter of fact. I went to the Indian market. I ate the tikka masala with the fingers of my right hand and immersed myself in the smells of curry and cardamom. I struck up a conversation with the store clerk. I entered a world where I was the only one with blue eyes and where English was the exception, not the rule.

I love going to Sweden. When the electric doors of IKEA open, the smells of lingonberries and Swedish meatballs tickle my senses. The neatly arranged room-boxes and modern light fixtures with names like “Söderhamn” and “Magnarp” make me feel like I should go bleach my hair and eat some gravlax.

A few weeks ago, I went to Korea (North or South – doesn’t matter, I’m safe). .

I ate my bulgogi from my lunch box plate with chopsticks, heady with the slight scariness of not knowing exactly what I had ordered at Chang Jing restaurant, and of hearing only Korean spoken at all of the tables around me.

When I go to China, I am amazed at all of the live seafood and the fruits and vegetables that I’ve never seen before. I brought fresh juji fruit home(and you thought it was just a candy) from the Ranch 99 Chinese market the other day. I had to google how to eat the things. The last time I went there, I had to find an Asian teenager who spoke English to tell me how to buy the pastries (it’s more complicated than you would think). It was scary. Awesome.

Mexico is easy. I actually speak some Spanish. There are so many Mexican grocery stores and restaurants around here that I actually feel somewhat comfortable there. I went to La Michoacana this week. I was the only white person there. :)

Sometimes, I don’t have to actually go anywhere at all to travel. My son’s piano teacher’s wife is from Taiwan. She taught me some Chinese, fed me Taiwanese food, and showed me pictures of her beautiful country. Ni hao. And I’ve been to Russia.

When we remodeled our bathroom, the owner of the remodeling company was from Russia. I probably surprised him when I popped into the bathroom and said, “I want to learn to speak Russian.” But he humored me and I took a small trip to the Motherland.

No, I haven’t set foot in China, Korea, or Russia. Not yet, at least. And Antarctica is still calling to me. I’ll get there when the time is right. For now, I may not be seeing the buildings and northern lights, but I am meeting the people who are from the places I want to go. It’s good. When I travel, I like meeting the people and plunging myself into the different cultures most of all anyway. I’m going to make a call to my Mary Kay lady now – she’s from Germany…

On the subject of happiness...

I’ve been reading Ayn Rand. I’m sure she has influenced this blog entry. Thank you Ayn.

We can do everything in our power to be happy and actually find joy in our hearts. But then, we meet “the looters” as Ms. Rand calls them. These are those people in this world who despise seeing happiness in other people. Some of these people don’t even realize that they do this, and they would be dismayed to learn that they are. These people, though, are a true evil in our world.

These people will systematically remove all sources of happiness from our lives. If fishing makes you happy, they will complain until you stop. If dancing gives you joy, they will either criticize you until you don’t want to do it anymore, or they will just refuse to let you dance. If watching sports on TV is a source of pleasure to you, these people will whine until you stop. Slowly, cunningly, these people will separate you from all that makes you smile – your family, your children, pets, friends, religion, sex, even certain foods. It is the most insidious of all forms of abuse. If someone hits you, you are obviously abused. But most victims of this type of torture probably don’t even know what is going on. They just can’t seem to get happy, especially children whose parents do this to them.

There is a sister to this sort of abuse by removal. It is the abuse by adding things that make you unhappy. The perpetrators of this are the people who make you do things that they know remove your happiness. There is a sadism in this type of abuse. These are the people who say lots of “Sorry”’s, and “It can’t be helped.” These are the people who take their kids or pets into the doctor for unnecessary visits and tests –just to torture them. The employer or spouse who makes you do jobs they know you don’t like, just to see you suffer. Subtle. Sneaky.

And unfortunately, I think women are the more guilty of this theft of happiness than men. How many wives nag their husbands about golf, sports, fishing, even working late?

Once these thieves have separated you from what makes you happy, they will tell you how bad that thing is (“Your family is so low class…”). So, not only do they steal your happiness, but then they make you feel guilty for ever having enjoyed dancing (for example) in the first place.

I don’t know why these people do this. I know some who do this that had perfectly happy childhoods, trauma-less lives. Maybe they just can’t stand to see someone else happy. Maybe it’s some sort of envy or misplaced competitiveness.

Whenever I’ve seen this sort of vile abuse, it has usually been between a couple in a relationship or between parents and children. There are even those who abuse their pets, denying the animal the freedom to choose what makes them happy (all in the guise of “It’s for their own good.”). Luckily, I escaped such a relationship, but only after some serious, slap-me-in-the-face divine intervention.

I urge you now. Look at yourself. Look at your partner. Is she/he stealing all that makes you happy?

RUN! Run now!!

Run before you are sucked dry of all that gives you life, of all that makes you smile.

Are you the one doing this to someone else – your partner, your child, your pet? Stop. You are a monster. You don’t think that you are a monster, but you are. Figure out why you are doing this. Fix yourself; don’t break everyone around you.

If someone is stealing your happiness, just remember that you deserve to be happy, everyone does. Don’t fall for that load of crap that we all deserve to suffer. Just read a little Ayn Rand – you’ll see. And eat that piece of cake if it makes you happy. Don’t let anyone deprive you of that small slice of contentment.

How to Be Happy -- The Final Episode

Well, here it is… the final installment in my tips on how to be happy. I really hope everyone who has read them is at least a little bit happier. I have to say, I have enjoyed writing them. I feel like I might be making the world a tiny bit better -- I suppose I’ve always been an idealist. Here they are, the final tasty bites. Enjoy.

• Eat yogurt. It’s crazy, I know. But really, studies have been done (see http://health.yahoo.net/experts/dayinhealth/are-probiotics-new-prozac) that have proven that those who take some sort of pro-biotics daily are just happier.

• There are lots of things that you could try to ease stress and make you happier. I haven’t tried all of them and I have only listed a handful here, but I will try to post a link for each one. That way if you’re interested, you can check them out. Then let me know what you think!
Self hypnosis (http://www.mindtools.com/stress/RelaxationTechniques/SelfHypnosis.htm)
Deep breathing and guided imagery (http://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/deep-breathing-guided-imagery-0622124)
Emotional Freedom Technique (http://eft.mercola.com/)
Essential oils and aromatherapy (http://www.swansonvitamins.com/blog/natural-health-tips/essential-oils-aromatherapy-guide)

• There are a few things that you should NOT do to make yourself happier. Do not self-medicate with things like alcohol, illegal drugs, out-of-control shopping, or overly risky behavior. Moderation, moderation.

• Finally, just laugh. Find the humor in the things around you and just laugh. Dr. Seuss said, “From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.”

That’s it. Enjoy your life. You are meant to be here – the world needs you. Again, it was Dr. Seuss who said, “Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one.”

How to Be Happy -- Part Deux

I hope there are some of you with smiles on your faces who didn’t have them last week. :) Here are a few more tips:

• Eat healthy foods. I’m not a low carb person. I like carbs. I need carbs. The key is moderation. Eat chocolate – just not the whole bag. Eat a steak – just not every night. Eat bread – just not the whole loaf. Eat close to the earth (I mean the food is unprocessed; not that you’re lying on the floor). :)

• Take up a hobby. Try something new. Learn something different. I have pretty much worn my family out with all of the stuff I’ve tried. I’m off the Bikram Yoga and on to Tai Chi now.

• It’s okay to be sad. Allow yourself to go through the stages of grieving (see http://psychcentral.com/lib/the-5-stages-of-loss-and-grief/000617). If you don’t let yourself be sad, your grief will spill over when you least expect it and you’ll find yourself bawling uncontrollably if you step on an ant. And don’t mistake the normal sadness of life for depression. Everyone needs to be sad once in awhile.

• Go outside of yourself. Quit thinking about how you feel; think about helping someone else. Volunteer somewhere. And remember that when someone is mean to you, they are probably having a bad day. It most likely has nothing at all to do with you. They are not trying to hurt you or give you some sort of message by their behavior. You are not a bad person because the cashier snapped at you. It’s her problem, not yours.

• Be present in the moment. Be here. Be now. Feel the chair on your skin. Feel the air blowing on your face. Feel the mouse under your hand. Smell the plastic smells of your computer. Leave the past in the past. Welcome the future and let it unfold in its beauty without your worry hastening its blossoming prematurely.

• Just as you have to give yourself the okay to be sad, you must give yourself permission to be happy. I blame it on soap operas. No one is ever allowed to be happy on those shows. As soon as something good happens to one of the characters, something awful happens. Life isn’t necessarily like that. If you allow yourself to relish in your joy, something horrible is not going to happen. Again, live in the moment. Don’t borrow sadness from tomorrow.

• Listen to music. Let it wash over you and immerse you in its healing power. Try different genres and see what brings a smile to your face. I’m listening to Reign of Kindo as I’m writing this (http://grooveshark.com/#!/search?q=reign+of+kindo), and I’m smiling from the inside out.

• Forgive. Let go. You’re only hurting yourself by holding a grudge. You are letting the people who hurt you continue to hurt you. And forgive yourself. Nobody is perfect.

• Don’t compare yourself to others. There will always be people better than you and people worse than you. Just be you. Be the best you that you can be. Compare yourself to yourself and grow from there.

• Change your routine. There is safety in sameness, but there is joy in variety.

Now go. Be happy. Embrace yourself. You are loved.

The Rules of Driving in Texas

I want those who move to Texas to know a few of the rules of driving down here.

#1 Use of the Horn – I got honked at today. My feelings got hurt. I plotted revenge for a full four hours. My husband asked, “What were you doing?” That is not the right attitude. The question is, “What is wrong with that person?” I decided to cut this person (yes, you, in the gold car, whatever kind of car it was) some slack. In Texas, we do not honk at someone when it is their choice whether to go or not. It is just not done. For instance, if someone is waiting for traffic to clear before going, you DO NOT honk at them. Your horn should be used sparingly in this southern state. We are a very polite people. You may honk (and by honk, I mean gently tap on the horn, not lay on it) if a light turns green and the person has not gone after a slow count of 2-Mississippi. Or, you may honk if someone begins to change lanes in front of you, a little too closely – again, a light tap. The only time you may either lay on the horn or tap repeatedly is if you see someone you know. This is a friendly way of saying “Hello!” The horn is not a means of communicating anger. Repeat – the horn is not a means of communicating anger. You may use the middle finger, under the dash, for this. And you may call other drivers any sort of creative string of cuss words that you want, as long as you smile while doing it. Remember that we are allowed to carry concealed weapons in Texas – and we like our high-powered weapons.

#2 Two Lane Highways – On the highways where you have one lane going in either direction, if someone gets up on your tail because they want to pass you, it is proper etiquette to pull over onto the shoulder (slowing down slightly) to let them pass. And then, and here is the most important part that no one is remembering these days, the driver that was allowed to pass should either give a little wave to say thank you, or if he has tinted windows, he should flash his emergency flashes for a couple of seconds to express appreciation.

#3 The Fast Lane – Ok, so we like to speed in Texas. If the speed limit is 65, it is assumed that you will go at least 70. Rumor is that you can get away with eight over, but I wouldn’t want to test that. That being said, if you are not going at least 10 over the limit, you ONLY get in the fast lane if you need to pass. In case you are unaware, the fast lane is the far left lane on a highway. If a big ol’ pickup truck gets right up behind you while you are in the fast lane, that means you are going too slow in that lane. Pull to the middle. And by golly, if you are going to pass, speed up to do it.

#4 Tailgating – Just don’t do it. It’s stupid, rude, and dangerous. If someone is not going fast enough for you, just pass them. Good grief.

That should be enough to get you by while you are down here. If you have any questions, please ask. And if any of my Texan friends can think of anything I forgot, please add away. Now, drive safe, y’all.

Motherhood

Motherhood changes everything.

For instance, time is now measured in "Sponge Bobs". When my daughter asks me, "How long 'til we get there?" for the 517th time, I answer with, "Four 'Sponge Bobs'." In other words, we'll get there in two hours. The unit of measurement has changed with each child ("Barneys", "Blue's Clues", "Power Rangers", etc.), but the concept remains the same.

And my name. I used to be Jennie. But now, and forevermore, I will be Mom. My kids all call me Mom. My husband calls me Mom. And I call him Daddy. Always. I heard my 87-year-old Uncle call my Aunt "Momma" a few years ago, so it's not just me. When I'm a grandmother, I want to be called "Mombo." It's kind of a mix between Rambo and Mom. I like to flatter myself and pretend like it fits. Do you think my husband will still call me "Mom," or will he make the switch to "Mombo?"


And I'm not allowed to cuss anymore. In my mind, when that truck cut out in front of me the other day, I called the driver all sorts of creatively strung together physically impossible forms of excrement. But my mouth said, "Boot licker. Fat cow. Turkey breath." I even had to quit saying "Fat Cow" for awhile because my daughter picked up on it and pointed to a fluffy ice cream eater at Baskin Robbins and called him a "Fat Cow." Lucky for me, she was pretty young, and it sounded more like "Facka," which I was easily able to turn into "Frankie? He does look like Uncle Frankie. Look at the rainbow ice cream!" We have no Uncle Frankie, of course.


My music repertoire has significantly changed since I have become a mother. Since I'm usually doing some sort of motherly duty when my kids are watching TV (which, of course, my kids never do since I am the perfect mother and the fact that I know the complete morning PBS line-up is just not true), I only hear the music in the shows which they don't watch. I can sing the "Sponge Bob" theme song, the "F-R-I-E-N-D-S" song from "Sponge Bob", most of the "Barney" songs (although my daughter doesn't like the "I Love You" song because it's too nice -- her brother's influence), and the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle" theme song. Thanks to the blessing of three teenage boys along with my five-year-old, I am also well-versed in such bands as Disturbed, Muse, Big Phat Band (that son is studying Jazz at college), and Dream Theater. I know most of the words to "Welcome to the Black Parade" by MCR (that's mom-cool for My Chemical Romance). :) They've also taught me how to text -- although they enjoy mocking my amazing texting skills. Whatever...

A very important thing that I have learned is that silence is not golden. Oh, no. Matter of fact, if there is silence it usually indicates that either my five-year-old is coloring on the walls or on her body with permanent markers, or one of my teenagers is making out with his girlfriend. Not good.

I have also learned some amazingly wonderful things as a mother. Did you know that every time a mother gives birth, she grows another heart? I loved my first son so, so much. When I got pregnant with son #2, I was worried that I would never be able to love him as much as I loved my oldest. Oh, but I did -- because I grew a whole new heart. And it happened again with my third son. And with my baby girl.

I love being a mom. My horizons are forever expanded. Anyone up for a rousing round of "The Song That Never Ends?"

We have time because it's one Sponge Bob until lunch time...

Athena

The newest member of the zoo is a cute little kitten that we named Athena. It's a big name for such a little cat, but it fits her because Athena was the Goddess of War.
My mom, God love her, likes to sugar-coat. When she asked us to take this sweet little kitten that had wandered up to their barn, we asked her if she was friendly.
"Oh, yes. She comes right up and brushes up against me and talks all the time. She's so sweet," she said.
This was great! We already had two cats: Rocket and Abbie. Rocket is very playful -- overly playful. My son used to have scratch marks all over his hands from the cat attacking him. The cat is not scared of anything, and he sits lovingly on our laps. But I always feel like I need to warn people who want to pet him, "He bites." And if it is a neighbor kid who is getting especially affectionate, I sometimes add, "He'll rip off your arm and use it as a toothpick, so be careful." That usually gives them a suitable amount of caution. Abbie, the other cat, is not really even our pet. We call her "The Ghost Cat." We only see her when she wants to eat. Even then, if she sees one of us, she jets out of there like someone just lit her tail on fire. Anyway, we were looking forward to a sweet, friendly cat that didn't make us feel like we were taking our lives into our hands every time we touched her.
Athena is a beautiful cat. When we first saw her, we were so excited. She was cowering in the corner of her cage that my parents had transported her in. We knew she was a little scared from the trip to our house, so we just figured her eagerly-awaited friendliness would become apparent. She growled at us, but we knew this was normal behavior for a stressed cat. We just opened the door to allow her come out whenever she was ready -- which we were certain would be soon, of course, because she was so friendly!
Well, she got out of her cage and found her food bowl. But she was still growling. My mom said, "Oh, isn't that cute. She's talking."
"Mom, she's growling," I said.
"Oh, I don't think that's growling. She makes this cute little noise all the time. I think she's just talking."
I love my mom. She has such an optimistic point of view.
Athena has lived with us for a month now. She is still "talking." Matter of fact, she pretty much "talks" all the time. She mixes it in with a purr now and then, but she even growls while she's eating (it sounds like a low, guttural "Nom, nom, nom, nom.") She is friendly, though, while she growls. And she's friendly while she terrorizes our other cats. And she's friendly while she marks her territory on our clean clothes and on my husband's computer bag. Yes, she's friendly.
But darn it, she's a cute cat. And she is getting better. Matter of fact, she was just sitting on my lap. You know, maybe she really is talking. :)