Why is choice important? still thinking...

I've been wondering about why I get so nuts when I hear about anti-choice legislation & talk.  I think I've figured it out pretty well. 

Why is Choice important?

Well, first, I think that everyone's life is different.  Like the saying, "if everyone you knew put their problems in a pile and each was given the chance to choose someone else's, you'd see what others were dealing with and pick up your own problems again."  For the most part, I think people try to do their best with their lives.  Trying harder in some areas over others, of course.  I know there have been times in my own life when I have made choices that were the best at the time, but that I wouldn't make if the same thing happened to me today. But how can I judge my past self harshly?  Can't and won't.  So I won't judge another life harshly either.  Do your best and I'm okay with you.  (Don't do your best and I'm all up in your face, just makin' that clear.)

Second, I think that the status of women and the societal support of women have been declining lately.  I can't put an exact moment when I started feeling like this (again) but I just have.  Maybe it's come up with all the crap that's happening with politics - everyone in the GOP doing their macho 'hoo-rah' mating dance for the nation and all the politicos nit-picking every inflection, mistake and position they make.  Guh.  All the grandstanding about how conservative a person is - saying that they think the Bible should determine the laws of our land (and that being the Old Testament or the Torah).  And along with all that, a push to remove the laws (or support laws that deny rights) that allow men and women to make many personal choices about what their family will look like.  Maybe it's the shift in the economy where so many able bodied, educated men are out of gainful employment.  Who knows.  Maybe it's just me being the age and stage I am at in life.  But I don't think it's just that simple.

Now I've been a feminist for as long as I can remember.  I grew up with an older brother, whom I love very much, but who made it very clear to me that being a girl/woman was a "less-than" quality.  My wonderful grandparents had very distinctive ideas (and ideaLs) for what girls should do or be.  My own amazing dad was great to talk the talk about supporting women, but did very little toward walking that walk.  (Okay, he has always supported me as my chearleader.  So that's awesome.  But ask him how many diapers he's changed in his life or what a schedule for a child's day might look like, or how things went the last time he babysat my kids, and he'd have to get back to you while he checked on that.)  When I was a child, people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  They were always so sweet to me when I told them I wanted to be a Mom and a teacher (both of which I am today).  When my mom asked me, I remember her giving an audible sigh of defeat, and her saying, "You know you could do ANYTHING right?"  My mom wasn't/isn't always the kind of mom I wanted, but she's a great feminist educator.  :) 

Third, I find it really disconcerting that there is both a push to "limit government" (a Republican platform) AND a push to limit personal freedoms.  I don't think it's possible to have both.  You either limit the role the government plays in a citizen's daily life, or your are thinking that a corporation counts as a 'citizen' and then we all understand where your 'family values' are coming from, thank-you-very-much.  Figure out how to REALLY balance the budget, limit threats to our nation's natural resources, work on developing strong and vibrant pre-elementary education and family/community bonds to keep almost grown kids out of prisons, work with other nations to encourage and support peace, and limit yourselves in your ridiculous paychecks - why the incredible interest in procreation? 

Parenthood should only be asked of those adults who really want to take on the challenge.  Parenthood is a twenty-four hour experience: imbalanced, frustrating, humbling, awe-inspiring, joyous, infuriating, boring, expensive, time-consuming, sleep-depriving, and mentally taxing.  Just like my own choice not to take up marathon running, I don't expect everyone I meet to think that being a parent is as incredible as I do.

On a financial front - kids are expensive.  Just the simple acts of feeding, clothing and caring for a child takes big chunk of change out of the "fun time fund".  Not having any extra money causes a great deal of stress and strain.  And for society, raising a new generation of children is a huge expense.  Granted, on both fronts, a very lucrative investment, but also one with some real amounts of risk.  For people to say that a woman (or a couple) should always choose to carry a pregnancy full term, I say, mind your business.  I figure if a woman or a couple decides that today is not the day to take on that long-term marathon of parenthood, then I figure they've probably thought it out and are right. 

But for families who feel like every menstruation is an opportunity for a new life to join them, I celebrate your bravery.  I applaud your sense of adventure and sincere force of positivity.  You Go!!  I love that the Duggars are sharing their lives with the world.  I've got a husband, two kids, a messy house and two dogs that live to drive me nuts (but are so durn cute), and I would NEVER willingly invite a camera crew into my home at any point.  I don't watch the show, though I have seen parts of it, and I celebrate the families that are so large they need a school bus.  They've figured out how to feed, clothe, educate and love all of them - raising those kids to be as self-sufficient as their parents.  That is fantastic. 

But for either crowd, I've gotta say, the choice is yours.  Not mine.  But making sure our government is NOT a part of that choice, for anyone, that's MY CHOICE.  And I will never sit idly by and allow a group where the majority are privileged white men decide the fertility rights of the women in our nation.  I trust women, and I vote.  I hope you do, too.


and as an afterthought - i want people to ask questions and wonder.  here are some quotes and links about choice in America:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abortion_in_the_United_States

Not sure how unbiased this is, but it's worth a look -

http://www.selectsmart.com/president/

“Let's never stop asking questions. Questions give us a harbor to remember where we once lived mentally. They remind us of the possibilities that can be born out of thoughts and musings, and they link together pattern that define our lives.” ...

 

“It's daring to be curious about the unknown, to dream big dreams, to live outside prescribed boxes, to take risks, and above all, daring to investigate the way we live until we discover the deepest treasured purpose of why we are here.”
― Luci Swindoll, I Married Adventure

 

 

feeling a little Job-ish today

as a kid, i attended school at the same Catholic church my family worshiped at each week.  i loved the cocoon of close-knit families i grew up with there, even though i failed to learn much about making new friends (who needs to?) or welcoming those who differ from you. 

spending so much time in what is basically church with a little reading, writing and arithmetic gave me a great deal of time with the big book of God.  and being a Catholic sanctuary of learning meant that a great deal of focus was placed on "offering pain up to God."  now i haven't studied all kinds of Catholics, but that is a strong message passed on to me.  instead of the secular message of "suck it up" i had it turned into a path towards martyrdom. 

the great, high holy saint (sarcastic font used here) of martyrs is by far Job.  (pronounced Jobe for anyone unfamiliar with my spiritual patron saint)  the book of Job is really a good read if you'd like to try it out, but to sum up Job's life: he had it all.  a great family, wealth, power, a strong faith, did all he could to honor God and all that.  bad stuff happened to him.  his family members died.  his wealth disappeared.  he was covered in sores.  people turned away from him.  he still praised God. 

now i've had a few trying times in my life, but never in any great magnitude.  mostly just times i've had a bad case of "feeling bad for myself-itis".  health problems that require moderate treatments.  irritating but not evil family issues.  loss of people i've loved, but had a lifetime of loving memories to carry me along after their passing.

this past month or so feels like a long laundry list of Job-ness. 

the winter here in Minnesota has dragged on so long, i sometimes wonder if i'm not actually trapped in the movie "Groundhog Day" and instead of reliving one day over and over, maybe i'm just reliving a month or two - again and again. 

we've saved up/ paid off bills just in time to realize we need to spend a good chunk on a newly discovered repair on our minivan (if i haven't described my love/hate relationship with this vehicle, i should say i love to drive it fast and hate when it blends into the 10 other gold minivans in a parking lot). 

i've had a minor health issue, that doesn't require surgery but has dragged on since the fall.  it's not something i talk about because it is "indelicate" and is slowly driving me insane.  quite literally. 

and little things that i've planned out have inconveniently been cancelled or rescheduled because of colds, coughs, and all around not funness.  (again and again and again...)

now i've gotta point out that none of the above listed events or issues has caused me to be shunned from society (though rescheduling the daughter's birthday party for illness put a serious damper on the chaos we had anticipated) or otherwise caused me to re-evaluate my life goals.

i try my best to be patient.  outwardly, i think i do a decent job not showing it too blatantly that i want things to go faster or more my way.  as an adult (in most ways), i understand that life is filled with moments when deep breathing and supreme self-control are required.  but this last week is surely a test to my spirit.

my darling daughter is 3 years old.  she has always been, in utero and hence forth, a firecracker.  she acts shy when it garners her added attention, and talks ears off to keep a good situation going - especially with grandparents.  she is very much NOT like me, which causes me some concern as to how i should parent her since i really have little to no idea what the poo is going on in her little, curly head.  but in ONE way, she is very much like me.  she doesn't sleep well.  or i should say, very long.


to those who are parents of children who fall asleep at 7pm and remain in that state until 8am, go screw yourselves.  you have hit the genetic jackpot and i don't want to hear anything about how it was all found in a parenting book requiring hours of infant-crying-to-sleep nights.  no amount of training will cause a child to sleep that long if it wasn't in their makeup.  my kids and i, and in some ways my husband, have a different sleep style.  right now, my daughter falls asleep pretty well, and only on occasion, wakes during the night for a good cry and then goes back to sleep.  she does wake up right about the same time my husband's alarm clock goes off (her room is a slight bit down the hall from our's, with both doors closed and her fan running).  this usually means she's up by 5:45ish. 

i have been staying up late, as of late.  ha ha.  truly.  it's not too strange to see my bedside lamp still on and me still reading at 12:30 or so.  so i didn't stress out monday night when i sat in the little lady's room as she was falling asleep, and knew i'd fall asleep for a bit too.  i woke up about 45 minutes later, to the sound of sweet husband walking in the door after a music rehearsal.  i was excited to talk to an actual grown up, so i started to get myself up off the floor.  my left leg was TOTALLY asleep.  leg, foot, the whole shabang.  there was a 2second pause when i thought, i should let it "wake up" a bit.  naw.  i wanna get out of here! 

i stood up, heard a gross Pop!/Snap! sound from my numb foot and then fell straight back on the floor.  i took out daughter's dolly umbrella stroller (i guess i weigh a bit more than a plastic doll) and then tried to crawl out of her room.  as soon as i made it to her doorway, the pain arrived.  i thought for sure i must have a bone sticking out of my skin because it felt like i had a burning hot dagger jabbing into my foot.  i made it to the couch somehow, and totally freaked out my husband by sobbing uncontrollably.  (thanks, sweetie, for trying to calmly assess my condition :) )

after a wait for my sister to arrive to guard the solidly sleeping kiddos, we trecked to the E.R. and had that date night we've been shooting for.  free child care, cable comedy shows, an attentive staff, and strong pain killers.

the Job part of this complaint-fest is that i am now, because of my impatience, bound to using crutches and hobbling around with a now disgustingly bruised and swollen foot.  if they had given me a crash helmet and pads, i would've felt better about using the crutches (i'm pretty graceless).  i am missing out on some beautiful walking - hiking weather that has FINALLY graced our landscape.  i am trapped in a land of inconvenience and irritation.  nothing deadly (thankfully). 

and i have to say, that i am, for the most part, thankful (even while irritated) that i have this happening right now.  my kids are pretty self-sufficient, i can order groceries (LOVE, LOVE, LOVE Cobornsdelivers.com), i can still drive (what freedom!), and i have a new appreciation for how difficult getting around must be for those who are resigned to this situation for longer than the 2 weeks or a bit more that i have stuck myself in.  and i know that it is completely MY FAULT.  humbling.  shameful.  irritating.  and thankful that i have the luxury to stay home and recover.  my life isn't dependent on me making it somehow to a job.  my home is safe for me to hang out in.  i can sit on the front step and keep an eye on my kids so they can still drink in the spring air, soaking in some good, cold puddle water along the way.  my land won't rumble, my air is safe to breathe, no bullets will fly, all i know are safe and are healthy - and if not healthy, under the care of good doctors with great integrity.


so today and every day, i offer my irritations/pain/annoyances up to God as a gift of thankfulness for being present here in this life.  there needs to be some repayment for all these blessings i enjoy.  and if this is it for now, i have received the best deal in the world. 

thankful for today! 

Thinking about Mary

Yeah  Life has been busy.  Lots of lists, things to buy, how to budget the last few items I always forget about, extra good cleaning for overnight guests, how to share appreciation for all those around me who do so much to make my life better without going any further into debt, trying to remember just why it is we do all this preparation for this funny day so late in our calendar year.

I helped out with my church’s Christmas program this year.  It was quite honestly one of the most wonderful things I’ve done with children in awhile.  After all these years focusing on younger children, I had the chance to work with 5th graders.  Big kids. 

I helped them with the bible readings.  So for weeks before the program, I had the opportunity to go over and listen to the selected readings with these kids again and again.  The bible is definitely not a favorite book in my “arsenal”.  But the story of Jesus’ birth (as historically improbable the need to record people in their hometown is) makes me think. 

Being a mother, I’ve been lamenting over the story of Mary.  All that we know of her tells us that she was young, and held a very strong faith in God.  She was from a good family.  Okay.  So her fiancé was about to ditch her when she said she was pregnant with God’s child through the Holy Spirit.  Nice.  Not that I wouldn’t have done the same; her story sounds crazy, but his reaction doesn’t put Joseph in any “holy hierarchy” light.  He only agreed when the angel (Gabriel?) came to him and told him to man up and marry her. 

Then this nutty, and improbable travel to Bethlehem came up.  Mary is “well with child”, she’s getting ready to settle down and prepare for the birth.  And Joseph takes her on a trip, for what must have taken a good couple of weeks, to make the government happy.  Away from her friends and any family who might have helped her.  I’m not thinking that Joseph was either or brought along a midwife.  Then, he obviously didn’t “call ahead” cause they couldn’t find a room to rent for their stay.  Really? 

And in the two nativity scenes I have at my home, and pretty much all those currently produced, Mary looks calm and happy.  She gave birth to her first-born son, who she strongly believes to be the son of God, in a stable with smelly animals.  Then they open their “new digs” to visitors, important ones even. Sounds like a fun time.

So we will be hosting my husband’s wonderful parents off and on during their stay in Minnesota.  My husband is currently on a trip, and will return the same day his parents arrive.  He has taken a new position this year, and has needed to spend extra time reorganizing the program and such.  My calendar has at least one extra event on almost every day until the new year.  And just because we're extra busy, the paychecks don't come extra often, and I continue to juggle when I need to.  So it’s been pretty much up to me to take on all that is Christmas.  (*He did do a wonderful job decorating outside and in - thanks, sweetie!) 

Every time I get down when I’m dealing with these crazy-long lists of “must haves” we create for ourselves, I think about Mary.  She (seems to have) kept her calm, and held onto her faith in God that everything would work out.  Really.

Now I’m not about to give birth and going on a long, arduous journey.  I do not have worries about my honor and marital status (as far as I know :) ).  My main responsibility is to make sure my family and friends feel loved and appreciated and most welcome in my home.  I have often missed that mark in the past, as I held my focus on the shallow ideals of having all the perfect “things” for Christmas.  I have become frustrated with many, failed to be appreciative of loads, and become angry and sullen right in the midst of what should have been a celebration of a new life (His and mine). 

Honestly, I’m still going to push myself too hard.  Stay up too late.  Worry about too many little things.  Freak out about timing and perfection at least twice.  But I am making a commitment to myself to remember to take a deep breath and remember Mary.  And then, say a prayer of thanks that my calling is not her’s.  I’m pretty sure I would’ve told that angel, “Thanks, but no thanks.”  And then where would we be?

what is a gift?

Well, the elections are over, and here in Minnesota, I hold hope for the future.  Being a Democrat, I know many offices are now housing Republicans or other more conservative peoples.  Though I am disappointed by that, I do honor the fact that these people jumped into the game of running this place.  (I also understand that in our current political climate, it's damn hard to accomplish anything you want to, so that does give me hope and a good laugh.)

But now that the campaigning and voting is over for the year, my thoughts turn to the holidays.  My son's 6th birthday comes in just over a week, and then Thanksgiving, cousins' birthdays, friends' birthdays and then the celebration of Jesus' birth.  All include presents, food and getting together with people we don't see very often.  Lots of fun times ahead, but also a lot of pressure.

This year, I've tried to take a little of the craziness out of this season by shopping for gifts and planning homemade things in advance.  Overall, I think I've got enough stuff to give away to fill about 2/3 of my list.  That is a great feeling of calm.  But then, I also don't give my own kids many gifts.

I think back to what my parents gave my siblings and me for birthdays and holidays.  I know that these times were always festive and fun, but I don't remember ever getting exactly what I wanted (or thought I wanted).  No Cabbage Patch doll when parents bum rushed the doors at Target as soon as they opened, then fought over whatever dolls were on hand.  No Members Only jackets, or Michael Jackson purses.  No Sweet Sixteen party at the Holiday Inn ballroom.  Sad life, right?  But I did receive lots of lovely presents.  A sweet "Jennifer" doll.  A Walkman radio/tape player with batteries that I used immediately to listen to "Wild Boys" by Duran Duran (the thought of which was always more intriguing than the real life versions).  A really good 35mm camera I used for YEARS until after I was married. Along with loads of time being outdoors together, learning about other cultures, celebrating with my huge extended family and my parents' lifetime friends... all things that have brought me joy and shaped my view of the world.

As a teen, I would be so upset, disappointed, angry, and depressed that my parents had not chosen to go into serious debt to fulfill all my material desires.  I understood that things weren't all that important, but I did really want them to throw caution to the wind once or twice and just buy what I told them I wanted.  Now, I understand that things are only things.  And generally, these are things that I will spend my years cleaning up or keeping updated (like this ancient iMac I write this on).  So I am thankful that I learned, not only that my lack of material things pushed me to get a job (paper route & babysitting at 13- always had a job since) but also to cherish the challenge of making my own fun.

I was pushed to write this because next week, I'll be throwing a birthday party for my son.  He chose the theme of Halloween.  We picked out things for the party on Nov. 1st (clearance!) and will do fun things like having a dress-up dance party in the basement.  He'll receive enough presents to keep him busy until Christmas, and will then get more.  I can't choose what he'll get as gifts, and that's good too.  But right now, this soon-to-be-6 year old is playing with his little sister, working on a big cardboard box my sister saved from her friend's recycling bin.  They are playing with my husband's set of Fisher Price Little People (choking hazard be damned) and having a great time.  The toys carefully purchased at the best toy store in St. Paul sit idly on the shelf.

Taking the new toy catalogs from the Sunday paper will give my kids hours of enjoyment: looking at the pictures, talking about what they like and don't like and circling things they think they want.  I could feel bad that we don't have the money to buy them the latest and craziest toys, but I won't.  Any disappointment they might feel when they don't receive all those pieces of plastic circled in the paper will be short lived.  We will put on jackets (and soon, snow pants and scarves) and go play outside.  We will find new treasures at the library.  We will visit friends and renew their joys in the toys already on their shelves as we play with them together.  And we will inherit new boxes to play out newly invented stories, and make memories of our own.

So if you are coming to a party at our house in the next months, and you worry about what present to get my little ones, remember that the best present you can give is time and creativity.  That's the gift I am giving my family this year (okay, a few awesome toys & things as well).  And it's the only one that is too precious to return, and always runs out too soon.  Oh, and to include a bit of spunk to this post, if you bring a crappy, plastic, noisy "just-to-bring-them-something" gift to my house, you may just get it back.  A roll of tape, pack of paper and something to write/draw/paint/construct with are so much better.

Kudos to all the people out there who taught me (and continue to teach me) that time with loved ones is more important than more stuff filling up my house.  (On this weekend of All Saints, I honor the hard work, love and dedication put forth for my benefit by my grandparents, who have gone forth without us; Mathew and Rose, Arthur and Ilene.  And my husband's grandparents; Herman and Grace, and Frank.)  Each of my grandparents taught me to reuse what I had, think hard before I buy something new and pass on whatever I no longer use to someone else who needs it.  Good things to learn then and now.

Am I done, yet?

I know I've said it before, but I still feel the same way, so I'll say it again. Being a stay at home mom is really tough. I love spending most of my waking hours (and a few of my non-waking hours) with my children. I mean, I'm a preschool teacher by profession (graduate school really pays off in this area... ha ha ha) so I am totally dedicated to making the most out of childhood. Really. But there's a bit to this vocation that I would like to avoid. Now, as I shower kudos to those wonderful moms who work for pay outside the home, I've gotta give a disclaimer. A "working for pay" mom is also really tough, but in a different way. Let me explain.

As a stay at home mom (which I am 75+% of the time) my day starts either when my little ones wake up or when my alarm goes off. I dress and feed everyone, and make sure our supplies are ready for whatever our day consists of. I shuttle little ones around, shuttle myself & my littlest one on errands, and make sure everyone in the house has the best of whatever they require (budget allowing).

I spend a good chunk of my day cleaning up the house. I come from a long line of tidy but not super organized houses, and my own home reflects that. A few years ago, I attended a baby shower at a cousin's home, and I honestly didn't believe that the family actually LIVED there, because there wasn't ONE thing out of place. No stack of mail, errant laundry basket, no pile of chewed up dog toys. The house looked staged. It was lovely, but without the slight mess of living, it didn't feel very homey. And I know this was just my weirdness. (Yes, I am weird).

I've found "Flylady.net" which has helped me tremendously in organizing how I spend my cleaning time each day. She's great at making the most awful tasks a little bit more fun. But I am never finished.

My husband is a finisher. He glorifies in starting and finishing a project. He does a wonderful job, and doesn't start on something until he has the time and focus to complete it. (This wonderful quality does have some sour points, but we'll focus on the positive today.) My day, in contrast, never has a beginning or an end. I will clean the bathroom today, and tomorrow, and every day there after for eternity. I will wash a load or two of clothes today, and no matter how quickly I fold, sort and store them, I will have more laundry to wash tomorrow. I will always have dishes to wash; children to supervise, play with and discipline; checkbook registers to balance & budgets to tinker with. And THIS is what is making me crazy today.

I understand that I am feeling this way right now because I have recently finished working my "big summer" hours teaching kids about science & engineering. Work is such a fun and rewarding experience - and I LOVE starting a week and finishing the week and having something new to look forward to. (This is the point where I share how I am a little bit jealous of my mom friends who find wonderful people to care for their little people while they spend their days working on things they actually finish, alongside lots of other grown ups.)

Right now, I have my mom's groups to attend, odd get togethers and book clubs, and always the husband & my date nights. But I will never finish everything I have set before me in my house. My children will be grown and gone and I will still be planning meals and gathering foods and cleaning up my own mess along with someone else's.

So now I take a deep breath, and dive back into the ocean of activities that I can choose from today. The first one of those being "change a poopy diaper." Yes, being a mom DOES make me feel like a glamorous rock star.


some quotes i thought fit my mood today: taken from BrainyQuote.com which is an awesome place to find cool & interesting quotes...

There is joy in work. There is no happiness except in the realization that we have accomplished something.
Henry Ford (I guess he never had the "joy" of keeping his house clean.)

Ya gots to work with what you gots to work with.
Stevie Wonder

Weather forecast for tonight: dark.
George Carlin

All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.
Buddha (I try my best NOT to concentrate on the present moment when I scrub around the toilet, thank you.)

Grandpa's eyes

I spent the evening with my extended family as my gorgeous young cousin married her sweetheart. I almost chose not to go. I am sure I could have found a few other ways to occupy my time, but I needed to see these people again right now. There have been so many moments in my life that I have chosen to be consumed with my own life and have missed out on making real connections with those wacky people who share my gene pool. What a gift the night was to me. "Thanks, Jennette, for getting married!" (The photo is part of my family, just not from tonight).

A bit ago, I read a few books by a local author, Kevin Kling. He writes in a similar but much more Minnesotan style as David Sedaris. Kevin wrote a story in which he traveled to a country from his ancestry, and was shocked to see people walking around with what he told his mother "all had Grandpa's eyes". It brought tears to my eyes while reading, and does again as I think about this experience tonight.

My grandparents have all passed on, and their faces, stories and comments are but memories for me now. As I looked around at my family tonight, I was struck dumb by how so many of us had the same eyes. Slightly hooded (especially with age), light in color, piercing but framed in laughing wrinkles. No matter what I do, I will always look like my father's sisters, and I sound like them too. Tonight I realize that it's a precious gift. I can look into the faces of a whole crowd that look just like home.

My own father was there tonight. I am especially thankful for that, because he recently had surgery to remove a cancerous tumor. His prognosis is very good, and the surgery was the only treatment needed. His own father died in his fifties. I don't know if he thinks of it often, but each day he breathes air is another gifted day he has outlived his own father's life. Selfishly, I would like to keep him around forever, of course. But I also understand that he will be out of reach for me at some point, so I cherish every day he's here and every moment I spend with him.

Both my parents have influenced my personality, and my tendency toward sharing my opinions possibly a bit too freely, with my dad having the stronger impact. Like my mother, he can take on a hard-edged, my way or the highway type attitude with those he's "debating" with, but most times I love how open he is to hearing me share my thoughts.

I am thankful for all those patient, kind people in my family who have given me the benefit of the doubt countless times. I am full of self-righteous, aggressively opinionated thoughts and actions that surely push people away. While I work on being more gracious, quiet and caring, I wonder if my personality quirks aren't also, in part, a product of my enormous family. We're all a bit out there (not in the same ways, of course) with what we hold sacred.

And now, as I look at my own body, all it's shortcomings (or overcomings, depending on what you focus on) seem a bit better. My short and wide feet look like my grandpa's. My small hands look just like my mom's. My voluptuous chest is a gift from my maternal grandmother (thanks for that, really I love it). My short stature comes from both sides, but the design of my face comes straight from my father. And that's wonderful. And my eyes must be a gift from the grandfather I never really got the chance to know. My dad's father died when I was very young, and I don't remember him at all. But as I looked out at all those people tonight, I saw his eyes all over the room.

Thanks, Grandpa. And all those other wacky people who just went along with the natural flow of life to help create me and all those people I call family in that room tonight. I do hope that those eyes keep passing along. It sure is nice to look out and see a piece of my family history. And it's a little easier to look out and see all those eyes, because they are all at about the same height as mine.

taking a dip into a few crazy pools

I haven't written in awhile, mostly because summer is my busiest time and because this summer has already been a ride of insanity that I can't seem to get off of. Therein lies my theme, or at least the lens that I"ve been looking at the world through lately.

I may have mentioned before that my mother is a little more than wacky. My father is on the more fun side of madness. My in-laws have their own version of what qualifies for reality. My siblings surely have jumped beyond normal, as well as most of my friends (mostly why I love them so). Then my husband and I have our take. Over the last few years, and more and more these last few weeks, I have developed a theory that we are all completely bonkers and only the best ones of us know it (and wear that title proudly).

I've been spending a good deal of time with all these people mentioned above. So as not to call any one person out, I'll just lump you all together. You are nuts. The guilt; whether implied or outright, stinks. The lack of communication between those you love is sad. I am not a phone operator or newspaper columnist. If you want to talk to someone, meet up with them or call them. If you want something, tell me outright. Otherwise, I don't care. (Blog-dumping ends here - sorry about that bit.)

But I do care about what you do. I want to know about it. About how you feel about it. About what you love to do. About what you really think and what you really care about. I love spending time with you, because I love you and you are a fascinating human specimen. Really. Why do you think I got a degree in psychology? Because I love to study people. So don't get mad when I over-analyze and all that. It's what I do everyday of my life. Because I am crazy too.

I just watched Tim Burton's take on the classic "Alice in Wonderland." I LOVED it, by the way, but it connected all these bits in this line of thinking. I love this story, and Tim Burton's telling of it, because it supports that ideal that you can only do what seems impossible if you are a little bit nuts.

I'm also reading "Running with Scissors" by Augusten Burroughs which makes me think that someone who dives too quickly and deeply into the belief that impossible is possible may just mean you need some serious therapy and medication. But then, through all that he went through as a child and young adult, Augusten has persevered and become an acclaimed author and seemingly successful, adjusted adult. Not sure if that gives me hope, or just makes me feel bad for Augusten.

Is it possible that I am more crazy than those that drive me bananas? Is it my problem that I can enjoy 90% of my time with someone and go right off the cliff by that other 10%? Do I always need to be the one to make adjustments or accommodations for the neuroses of others? Is it acceptable for me to allow my irritation to slide into rage and share my frustration with those causing it? Does everyone have these impossible internal dialogues going on all the time?

To all those questions, probably not.

And for the most part, I calmly and caringly accept that we're all doing the best we can with what we've got at our disposal. Man, I hope that's true. But if anyone else wants to share their own version of crazy with me, could you please wait a few weeks? I'm all full of crazy here.

My Super Pause Power

I like to read about other moms who are very much "making it up as they go along" just like I do. Reading a "Writing Workshop" post by the author of Sleep Is For The Weak I have taken on the task of coming up with what superpower I would like to have. (Another thought on this topic was to write about what superpower you already have, but I don't think staying one step ahead of total chaos really counts.)

There are so many cool superpowers to think about. Super speed. Invisibility. Time travel. Super Strength.

I think, since I am in a constant battle to live in the moment, that I would really just enjoy having a PAUSE power. In so many situations, I would love to have a moment to collect my thoughts, clean up my house, take a nap, take a pee alone... the possibilities are endless.

I'm sure my husband would enjoy this new power of mine while we argue and I end up saying something hurtful, just to get a few moments to think through what I'd like to say.

My kids would love me to have this power so that, while they are requiring my attention, I could give it to them - instead of being like the dog, Doug, in the movie Up!, always distracted by whatever seems shiny at the moment.

Even my dogs would love it, since they might actually get a walk every once in awhile!

I could find time for myself as well as meet the needs of everyone who relies on me. Maybe I could even find time to get together with friends I seem to only stay in contact with on facebook; a sad replacement for actually talking to people who have made my life such a rich tapestry of experiences.

Ahh. Pause Power. What a cool dream.

Ways to show I love myself.

Ways to show I love myself. Sounds kinky, but I'm taking this seriously. What do I do to show myself that I am a valuable, important, deserving human being? Okay, maybe I'll take out Deserving, because I think the word Deserve has lost all meaning, but that's another topic.

I was reading my daily message from Flylady.net. (If you have any home cleaning issues, it's a great resource for conquering clutter, limiting the overwhelming chaos, and feeling empowered). Part of today's message was about different ways to renew your spirit and provide yourself moments each day of love toward your best (and sometimes worst) lifemate.

Flylady said:

Dear Friends,

How do I love me, let me count the ways!

On our "Renew your Spirit" day we can do this in many ways. This is all about you and what you need and like. Here are some ideas for you to try. You get to pick and choose.

1. Go to church
2. Listen to wonderful music that you don't hear often
3. Watch a movie that you love
4. Read a book
5. Go for a walk or a hike
6. Sit quietly in your favorite chair with your eyes closed
7. Take an extra long bubble bath or shower by candle light
8. Make a pot of soup for supper and let it simmer all day in the slow cooker while you relax
9. Take a nap
10. Go for a drive
11. Turn off your phones
12. Sit outside and listen to the birds
13. Take your dog for a walk
14. Curl up on the couch with a magazine
15. Build a fire or light a candle
16. Do a crossword puzzle

How do I love me? Let me count the ways!

Slow down and enjoy the moments by doing something you love to do and not
feel guilty over it. It could become a habit to each day. Peace is
contagious!

Loving yourself is all about reducing the stress in your life one
moment at a time.

~FlyLady
....................................................................................

What a great thing to work towards in life! Doing something for yourself each day - not spending money, not being selfish, just doing something that will bring joy to your heart while doing it, and while thinking about it after.

This weekend, the husband and I took the kids and the dogs on a camping trip to Wabasha, MN. It's not too far a drive for us, and generally in the opposite direction of most weekend travelers in the Twin Cities. Wabasha is the town where the story of the Grumpy Old Men movies is based, and many places around the town were featured in the movie. That's a fun thing to note, but Wabasha is also a cool little town! It's on the banks of the Mississippi River, with loads of things to do both in town and in the surrounding natural areas as well.

We spent a great deal of our time at a campground called Pioneer Campsite. For camping destinations, it was pretty good. They had a pool (filled with well water so it had a slightly rusty but clean color), a huge Rainbow play system playground area, and is right next to a boat launch for the river. We had a great time, but as with all campgrounds with a large number of seasonal sights, the facilities were a little less than clean. They were far from gross, but I never saw proof that the bathrooms were cleaned during our stay and the men's room never had hand soap. All that aside, I had the opportunity to enjoy many of my favorite summertime activities.

I took the kids over to the pool for a dip. The shallow end was still 4 feet deep, so I got in to the Whoo-Hoo Cold! water and held onto the kiddos while they had goose bumps from the chill and squealed with delight. Check One for Fun.

I took a walk under the stars. It was only up to the bathroom after everyone went to bed, but it still counts and it was amazingly beautiful. Check Two.

After everyone else went to bed, and I had showered, I snuggled up and read a book with a little flashlight. Listening to the night noises while reading a book (though I wish that book had been a bit better) was magical. Check Three.

We spent one full morning walking around the Lark Toystore which has to be one of the largest and most amazing toy stores in the world! We rode a hand-carved, absolutely incredible carousel, played a fun game of mini-golf, enjoyed some fudge, and played with so many fabulous toys that the husband's head was literally spinning. He had to take a break and walk the dogs along the grassy area outside. The kids were in love with the entire experience. I loved that it really only cost us the price of one toy they could share, a cool picture the husband wanted for the basement and some inexpensive fun times. *Lark Toys* makes their own line of natural, wooden children's toys that are so cute and fun! I wish I had more money to send them out to everyone. Check Four.

We then drove toward the town of Pepin, WI and found a fun restaurant called The Pickle Factory nestled in between the train tracks and the river (or Lake Pepin, it's hard to tell where one starts in that area). We watched the boats and the trains while enjoying a tasty lunch. To get there we had to drive through the wetlands surrounding the Mississippi. I have never seen such a beautiful, intriguing natural area. It would be perfect to kayak around through the natural waterways through the woods to see what no one on any motorized vehicle could ever see. Check Five.

The husband and the kids built great campfires (very safely, of course) and we had great times sitting around, roasting marshmallows (that no one ever ate) and enjoying the moments. Check Six.

Oh, and we even went on TWO hayrides around the campground. The resort owner, Paul, took out the tractor and wagon and took anyone who wanted to go on a bumpy, dusty, fun ride around to see all that the campground offered. Everyone riding on the wagon took on the role of a member of a float in a one-float parade. I had the chance to chat with other campers (adults and children alike) and see what everyone else was up to. It was such fun. Check Seven.

Great trip. Even while I was making sure everyone else was safe, sunscreened, bug-repellanted, fed, washed, and having fun, I found moments throughout the days to do things just for me. Or to live in the moments we were enjoying together and take a mental picture of that wonderful spot during our time camping.

I'll look back on those moments now that we are home, and I look forward to our next camping trip (heading back to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan- Porcupine Mountains!) where I hope to hike, nap and play more, but always find moments each day to remember the joy in my own heart - to celebrate that fierce love I have for me.