The following is a list of all entries from the Uncategorized category.
I have had several epiphanies lately, but this was the one that stuck out in my mind.
In the case of my children. They wish to do whatever they want, but that is not going to happen since all they would consume would be sugar and they would be risking their lives daily riding their bikes into the street.
In the case of me. Two years ago when we moved to Indianapolis I wanted to get into educational fields other than the classroom. All of the jobs that interested me required a master’s degree. So I decided that I would get one. None of these required a master’s in administration so I could feel free to pick a topic of interest. I chose curriculum and technology and eighteen months later here I am with degree in hand and fewer years on my life. Stress will do that to a person, but I digress.
Now that I am looking again at opportunities for employment everything that catches my eye is asking for qualifications that I don’t have. I am thinking that perhaps I am getting the very loud and clear message that this isn’t what I should be doing…but isn’t it what I wanted? I am thinking that perhaps what I want and what is best for me and my family might not even be in the same ball park.
So now I have to figure it all out. I am a great coach, and I am a good manager of people. I am extremely organized and like to get things done, but I am not a details person. I am patient and laid back, but I have high expectations.
What do I do next? Only time will tell…
Can you join the Peace Corps when you have children?
So I was listening to Pandora today (as I do so many days…) and I heard a few songs come on the radio. All of the sudden I thought about Andy and how blessed I am to have him in my life. This was extremely strange since generally music does not invoke this reaction unless I am listening to ”What’s your Fantasy” by Ludacris, or a little Janet Jackson featuring Busta Rhymes, “What’s it Gonna Be”. What can I say? I am just going all out honest here.
Of the two songs that caused the reaction one was by Sia and was called “Breathe Me”, and another was called “Stay” by Rihanna and Mikky Ekko.
In that moment as I was listening I paid attention to the lyrics and really understood the emotion behind the songs. I had to have a gut check. Am I just getting old? Is this the reason for my change in musical tastes?
But then I had an epiphany.
Only young people call you old when you no longer want to listen to the mainstream stuff or when you favor something that is not necessarily considered cool. Older people just laugh and move on. And when you are young your relationships may be strong, but they cannot be truly deep. It takes years of growth for the roots to begin to go deep into the ground so that there are places where your relationship truly takes hold and things just have a different meaning. You are the same people, but you are completely different and you achieve this together.
I am not getting older, just wiser. Those of us that are seeing a change in our tastes are finding a deeper connection with life. We look for meaning in things rather than temporary entertainment. With songs that have meaningful lyrics it may remind us of someone or bring back a memory of a moment in our lives. We don’t have anything to prove with what we are listening to, we are just listening to what works best for us.
So here is to listening more deeply and also to making sure to keep “throwin them ‘bows” every now and then.
I was recently donating a box of items to Goodwill and decided to do some shopping since I was already there.
I do love a Goodwill bargain.
I decided to focus on the book section and within minutes I had to get out my reusable bag and start filling it since I could no longer hold the stack in my hands.
I found books for me, books for the kids, books for my grandparents, so many books. It turned out to be seventeen in all.
I have read two so far. Well one and a half. The first was about late bloomers and while this book was referring to people that don’t get married and have kids I still felt that it was talking to me. I had kids and was married but it took a while to find myself. In some ways I feel as though I have just begun to live the way I want to live and focus on the things I want to focus on. The second is a book that was recently made into a movie. It is called,”I Don’t Know How She Does It”
This is where my post really begins.
This is yet another tale of a harried working mom that makes a large salary with a high profile company and lives with the struggles of having a nanny, and balancing career, marriage, children blah, blah, blah.
I am getting really tired of working moms being portrayed this way.
My mom worked full time all of my life and she didn’t have a nanny. Somehow she managed to have a clean house, well-behaved children, and a home cooked meal on the table each night.
Other moms work full time without a spouse or without health insurance. Excuse me for not feeling bad for you
because the men you work with aren’t nice or willing to give you a raise. That sucks, but juggling schedules is a reality for all of us that work and we don’t get to call our nanny and offer her overtime.
So perhaps I should write the next working mom book and gather the stories from moms in all walks of life. All of us that currently have no voice in mainstream media. Now that sounds like a spring break project worth diving into. Cheerio!
I see it all the time, and it perplexes me to no end.
You all see it too. Friends, family, acquaintances, coworkers.
A perfectly sane woman has a baby and a few minutes later you feel as though you should file a missing persons report.
I am not talking about the first few weeks or even months as you adjust to a baby. It is a big change and no one is debating that. I am talking about the point where this totally sane woman loses her sense of self. She no longer has interests of her own. Her favorite music has a label on it that says preschool, she hasn’t made plans with her friends in a year because she cannot be out past eight, and she cannot possibly have anyone over because it is too easy to spread germs.
What has happened here? Wasn’t this person awesome before? She had friends and was not home bound?
Some women have to have it (like Janet).
I say let it go. There are some things worth controlling such as not letting your child watch porn or play with knives. These are typically poor choices and there is good news…other people that watch your children will agree to these terms.
You need to be a person other than mommy. It is unhealthy to lose yourself because I have some shocking news…they grow up (gasp!) And THEN, they leave to start their own lives. And you won’t even know who you are anymore.
And you know what? It is actually mentally healthy for all parents to have a break once in a while. There are some times when I feel like if I have to play Sorry one more freaking time I will freaking lose it. All I can do is picture myself ripping the board in half, stomping on it and maybe even taking it out back to light it on fire. But I don’t. I calmly reach for my phone, pull up my Google calendar, and schedule me time. I find this method more productive and less likely to scar the children.
‘So how do you do this?’ you might ask. Well first of all there are no rules other than not doing drugs…we are taking a break for mental well being not starring in a White Snake video.
Set a time when someone else will be fully responsible, then just get out of the house. Go for a run, walk the dog (unless you are a cat person and then you could maybe attend a cat fashion show or something else of that nature). You could catch a movie, sit in a park, people watch at the mall, meet up with your friends if you still know what they look like.
It doesn’t have to cost a dime and will save you a ton in therapy and prescription meds down the road. For both you and the kid.
Don’t be that person. You don’t have to be.
It is a choice.
We can choose to be a martyr and pretend that without our sacrifice all would be lost or we can realize that our kids need us to an extent and then there are times when a sitter, family member, or even our husbands (seriously if I hear one more mom say her husband is babysitting I will freak out. He is a parent too and he is parenting!) can do just as well or better than us at supervision while we take a small break.
Life is an adventure. You don’t have to camp for eighteen years because there were two lines on a stick.
I leave you with these wise words that I heard while viewing a classic film entitled The Waterboy.
You can do it!
I am sitting at a roller Derby bout with my former coach Val O. Ween, and former teammate Anita Slayer.
And I am sitting with the Circle City Socialites.
And I miss roller derby more than I miss mall pretzels with cinnamon and sugar (that ain’t no joke).
So here is my ode to roller derby
There are many reasons why I am no longer a derby girl and many reasons why I had to leave the derby world.
It takes too much money, and too much time so there is a reason and a rhyme.
I also worry about my knees, I would like to run whenever I please
But I love you roller derby for so many reasons more, but for now I will give you four.
I love roller skates covered in duct tape and torn up pantyhose that are worn with pride.
I like the sharpie on my arm and my soaking wet bandana after a scrimmage or bout.
I love the way I feel when the music is blasting and I lace up my skates and put on my helmet, pads, and mouth guard. When I get on that floor I am Eva O. Bliteration and anything is possible.
Even though I am socially awkward and have always struggled to make friends I did. And I was voted captain. And I learned to believe in myself and to begin to see myself differently.
So many pros, but the cons hold me back. To lace up again, or not.
My derby backpack beckons me daily from the top of my closet.
It says I am not done yet…but perhaps my time has passed. But perhaps it hasn’t.
A conundrum it is.
Have you ever caught yourself being smug? Not to anyone out loud of course, but in that nasty little part of your brain that gets away from you sometimes… don’t deny it or act smug I know you know what I am talking about.
I realized today that I have been getting quite smug on the dl lately and it’s time to come clean.
Episode of smugness #1
I walked past a car going into work and it had been scraped…I smugly thought, that poor shmuck doesn’t have a garage, I am glad that I do.
Episode of smugness #2
I am driving on the interstate next to a person gripping the wheel in fear and driving SO SLOW that I think it actually was illegal. I smugly thought this person should take another route since they obviously lack my superior driving skills.
Episode of smugness #3
I am out about town and someone complements my rainbow coat. I thank them and smugly think, yea this coat is amazing and it was ten dollars. Beat that retail shoppers!
Feel free to get your episodes of smugness off your chest below. This is a safe place, no judging (at least not out loud)
And I promise that I won’t say anything about it or you without saying ‘bless your heart’ first
This weekend was just lovely.
I celebrated the lifting of dietary retrictions by my doctor by promptly eating things that made my stomach hurt. Subsequently I am back to the diet today within reason so that I can maintain the status of feeling better that I have gained over the past month.
I waged war on my filthy home and mountains of laundry…and I was victorious.
I visited the winter farmer’s market downtown and got a good looking chicken and a chuck roast from an amish man with a deep freezer…and I even got a bunny to cook. So excited.
I had some sweet potatoes and apples dried for snack food by a grant writing, quantum chemistry majoring, statistics loving good friend of mine who is also fun to hang out with. Which in and of itself would make the weekend, so the fact that we are both named Holly and created our own religion in middle school is just icing on the cake. (Who knew that Hollyism wouldn’t really take off? I was sure it was a winner)
I visited a thrift shop on west 38th street and scored an old school thermos since my children are requesting soup in their lunch and up until now we were sharing a thermos. Sadly, “Sorry Joe, you can’t have soup today because Olivia gets the thermos,” just wasn’t good enough anymore.
And yesterday I attended a great service at City Community Church downtown at the library. But the excitement does not end there.
Now is the part where you cheer for what is to come.
On Sunday evening to celebrate the lifting of diet restrictions by my doctor this week, and further my indigestion, my family and I made a trip to Orange Leaf in Castleton. Hooray! After stuffing ourselves with fro-yo and toppings we headed down to Trader Joe’s to get a few things we would need for the week since I had been on a cooking binge and had already used up several of the items purchased by my dear husband on Saturday.
After hitting up good old Joe’s for some delightful fruits and veggies I decided that it would be best if we made a stop at TJ Maxx/Homegoods. Of all things, I was in need of some pantyhose.
Now you know how truly special these skirts are.
It has been so long since I have worn pantyhose that I had forgotten what to look for. It took me several minutes to even locate a place where they might exist within the context of TJ Maxx.
When I got to the area I saw several packages marked as irregular which I immediately shied away from. I am already a mess enough without irregular pantyhose giving me a complex. So then I find several pair that are basically like fishnets with different colors and patterns sewn into them which retail for 32 dollars and sell at TJ Maxx for 7. Not so much. I will probably get one use out of these at best before I get at least one run in a noticeable place and rip through the toes because I don’t take my time putting them on or taking them off. $5 is my max here.
At this point I am joined by another woman who seems to be in her twenties and is not American. I know this because of her broken English. She is looking through the pantyhose with vigor and I try to stay out of her way and get this torture over with. Then she gets into my space. She has the pantyhose out of the package and has her hand in them to check the color and seems to want my approval. Apparently she hasn’t looked closely at me or is truly desperate because I know nothing about this. I tell her they are great. I think they look like pantyhose; and in my opinion those can never really look great unless they are fishnets under some roller derby pads, but I kept that to myself.
I begin to open a few packages to check the color against my skin. She gets in my space again and wants to look at the package and give me approval. At this point I am thoroughly confused and wondering just how this whole thing works. Is this something girls do? And more importantly is there something I can do to make myself more unwelcoming for next time so that this doesn’t happen again? I consider leaving immediately, but I really like these skirts and my Casper’esque legs are not going to cut it nor is waiting until I get a tan. So I persevere and she finally leaves. I choose my pantyhose and know that next time I will bring my children along to scare off any shoppers that wish to interact with me.
Thank God for the Verdizzlets.
That is all.
I keep waiting for the following e-card to arrive in my inbox…So you broke your immune system and pretty much didn’t do anything kind to your body in the last five years? It’s your own stupid fault, deal with it.
However, it has not arrived so I figured that perhaps if I completed a blog post about my medical misadventures it would!
I was feeling pretty crappy in January so I thought a visit to my new doctor here in Indianapolis might be in order. I had been dragging my feet on finding out just how extensive my food allergies were because if I didn’t go to the doctor I could still eat a variety of things that I probably shouldn’t have been having. What can I say? I have a weakness for ultimate nachos.
I made an appointment on January 21st and made sure I was there with my new patient paper work on time. (Insert gold star here)
I waited for a bit and met with my doctor. I told her that I was exhausted and a host of other symptoms that I assure you would be TMI even for my most fervent readers. She asked me what I did for a living, what I had been doing for the past few years, etc. I told her. I am wondering now why I didn’t just direct her to my blogs from last fall, but that would have been too easy I suppose.
I have never seen so much head shaking in my life. She then summarized my last couple of years in a few moments and while I had seen all of this as an adventure she made it clear what it truly was…stupidity. It basically went down like this.
“So you quit your job without another and moved to Indianapolis where you lived in a studio apartment with four people for five months while selling your home, finding a job, starting your kids at a new school, and starting your master’s degree which you finished in 18 months. You then moved into a new home, got a new job, and you picked a job with IPS where you would work with the most challenging students therefore adding to your stress.”
What do you say to that?
I think I would come up with something like this: So rejoining a roller derby team is out of the question?
I never learn.
So needless to say I am on the allergy elimination diet which means I can have rice cakes, and various other items that taste like cardboard and styrofoam. I am also on a host of vitamins, one of which is supposedly revitalizing my mitochondria. I still feel like I have been run through the ringers each day by 6pm and desperately wish to be asleep each night by seven.
So due to this I must apologize for a lack of posts. I have been so tired that no adventures are even on the horizon, and I assure you me talking about sitting around the house in three sweaters and a hooded fleece poncho while drinking decaffeinated and unsweetened green tea…not that entertaining.
But don’t cry for me Argentina. I go back the 21st of this month, and perhaps she will add some items back into my cardboard diet AND in the future I will remember to take better care of myself. Or not. Either way. In the wise words of Zac Efron, YOLO.
So I have to let you in on a little deal…actually it might be the best deal ever.
Let’s start at the beginning of the story. Last weekend Olivia began her second season as a girl scout cookie saleswoman.
Last year she was quite the success with nearly two hundred boxes as a first grader. However, the prizes she received were super lame, and she was a bit disappointed.
This year as she looked at the prizes she found some great options in the 750 to 2,000 box category. And since she received my genes that include outrageous expectations/goals and extreme stubbornness it was decided. She was going to sell 1,000 boxes for an iPod touch.
This is where the amazing deal comes in. Olivia shares this goal with her uncle Ry Ry. He then vows that if she can sell a thousand boxes of cookies that he will go with her to deliver them. Dressed as a girl scout. And then the deal sweetens. Olivia gets her dear daddy to say that he will also dress as a girl scout for cookie delivery if the goal is met.
So here is my plea. We make Olivia sell every box herself. We don’t pass her sheet around for her and we will not be buying her an iPod touch if she doesn’t meet her goal. She is really learning a lot from this experience, why cheapen it? So if you are willing to buy cookies just comment or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I will have Olivia send you an email or give you a call.
Even though I hope she succeeds, I also selfishly hope that Andy and Ryan will be dressed as girl scouts passing out cookies. And don’t worry. If she succeeds I will be providing pictures galore and perhaps even a video of the boys passing out cookies and saying the girl scout promise.
Please help. If you don’t want cookies around the house you can always donate them to operation cookie drop and they will be sent overseas to the troops.
And may the force be with my ambitious little Brownie!
So we joined the Y. And while every indication would point to a New Year’s resolution it actually has a lot to do with being cheap. You can get good deals on memberships in January, and after a few weeks it really isn’t so crowded anymore.
So as we began our journey into physical fitness once again being something more than a side note in our lives I ventured forth to a Saturday morning Zumba class. I figured I had been to plenty of classes in the past and anything is better than an elliptical machine; even if there is a TV hooked to it.
And just as a side note, isn’t watching TV while exercising a bit counterproductive? I mean you are exercising your body while numbing your brain? But I digress.
I show up to class and try to pick a spot where I won’t be front and center, but I will be able to see the instructor. I see about five people total so I am thinking that this will be just fine. And then it happens.
Enter workout Barbie. She has a waist that is so small that I think she might break while holding up her f cup breasts in her very tight tank top and perfectly matched spandex workout pants. And then there’s the ponytail. Long, blonde, annoying. And let’s not forget the smug expression of pity for those of us that don’t look like we spent an hour getting ready and have a plastic surgeon on call.
And where does she choose to stand?
Directly in front of me.
So now I cannot see the mirror, or the instructor, and I must see Barbie’s every move.
After my initial anger a minute or two passes and her good friend that we will call Theresa (also of Barbie fame, only a brunette) shows up. She is wearing her leggings from last night that are a size double zero and a tank top. In January. She does not have large boobs, but she is almost as annoying simply because she likes Barbie. I think she could weigh four hundred pounds and I would still be annoyed that she was even working out just because she was friends with Barbie. But then again, let’s be serious. Barbie would not give anyone over a size four the time of day, and she would probably talk about them with sentences that begin with, ‘bless her heart’.
She spends the entire class looking aloof while I silently pray for her to fall on her face or at the very least make an embarrassing mistake. Its not that I want her to feel bad; I just want her head to fit through the door on her way out. It is really about helping this poor soul. At the end of the class she thanked the instructor by name and toweled off her non-sweaty self on the way out.
I didn’t thank anyone and attempted to mop up my man sweat and gather my stuff so I could run to my car in the freezing weather in shorts, and make my way home to do glamorous things like laundry and bathroom cleaning.
A note to any other Barbies out there (not that they would ever read my blog). We can see that you workout. We can see that you are put together. But we don’t care. And the fact that you think about what you are wearing to the gym just makes me sad. It is the gym; not spring formal. Working out is a confidence booster for women of all shapes and sizes, and your smug attitude made many other women in the class feel bad about themselves. Shame on you. You could have worn whatever you wanted and simply acted like a normal human being and we could have all been friends. There is still hope for you. But if you choose to show up in this fashion again we may have to settle this after class in the parking lot…just saying.
Consider yourself warned. My brother in law recently taught me how to punch, and I am small but lethal.