In the name of the mother

My mom is doing better. We found out that if she had waited another 24 hours to go into the hospital she would most likely have died. The bacteria had spread to her blood stream. There she goes reminding me she is mortal again. My mom is one of the nicest people I know. The sun shines brighter on her somehow.

I met another very nice mom this weekend. She touched my arm while she spoke to me and made me feel comforted and supported even though what she was saying wasn't particularly comforting of supportive.

I want to me more like that. I am not very touchy by nature.

My father said that my lack of excitement and affection was frustrating for him when I was a child. It is that I am shy. He has never been able to accept this because he sees me as confident. Odd.

Many people have a hard time with this because I seem extroverted. I am not by nature.

My daughter is. When I buy her something special she says "oh sank you mommy! sank you! sank you! sank you!" This is her excited reaction whether it's a hair band or a doll.

Her father came home last night from a three day business trip. She was so excited to see him that she jumped from my lap and launched herself at him. Hugging him fiercely she declared loudly that "I like you home daddy". He wiped tears from his eyes he was so touched.

I was pretty touched too. That is a fearless love.

I hope she doesn't lose that. I hope that she doesn't learn my reserve. I want her to connect with others openly.

And so I snuggle her and give her kisses. And I force myself to act silly and take the time to show her that I can be that person.

I am that person.

I sang at the top of my lungs to a musical on my way to daycare. When I looked in the mirror, Dean was smiling and bopping along to the music. Maya was involved with some toy but as you know...they are always watching.

I hope that I will show them the fun that I know is a huge part of the world.

I want them to be unafraid to dance and sing and love and laugh.

I want them to face the opportunities that life brings them with open arms, knowing that pain is part of the process and makes the good times that much better.

I want them to connect. To love and be loved.

I want them to touch people.

P.S. For all that I am I just want to say,
"sank you mommy! sank you! sank you! sank you!"

Our Mother - Full of grace

My mother is in the hospital with pneumonia.

They thought she had some highly contagious disease. They called in the infectious disease crew and my father had to wear a mask near her.

She was just here. She watched my kids on Saturday for my birthday date night out in Philly (wonderful! but sadly, for another post). She was sick when she got here and gradually got so bad that she disapeared into her room and stayed sleeping for almost 48 hours. Then she got on a plane, flew home and the next day was in the hospital.

On a scale (preferrably sliding) how horrible a daughter am I that I had very little concern for my mom and was in an absolute panic over my babies?

I take a great deal of solace in the fact that they were her major concern too.

I love my mom.

I once told her that the sound of her voice on the other end of the line was like a pressure release valve. This is still true.

She is my second best friend in the world (having slid down only after I fell in love with the right man).

And she lies in a hospital bed on oxygen, an IV and antibiotics.

And she is worrying about my babies.

What a gift.

I know she will be fine. I know she will recover.

But :

She is getting older.

She is beginning to seem mortal.

She
is
getting
better.

Go go Mozilla

So I discovered the problem. Downloaded Mozilla's Firefox and I am now back in my blog from work.

The last post I sent was actually from home but work access will definitely mean more posts. Yipee.

I feel so liberated and connected.

I also used the fun little touch screen at Wawa to order a hoagie for the first time this week and, even though the 16 year old behind the counter clearly thought I was a cute old lady for having no idea what I was doing, I have to say: technology is so cool!

Change your browser, change the world.


When does Heroes come back on anyway?

No God but me

So I am having a balancing problem again.

I suffer from this from time to time and I can't quite work through it enough to move past it. Maybe it's a constantly moving object and I will never really solve the problem just rearrange the load until it works and then begins to tilt again eventually.

Balance.

Me time, kid time, husband time, house time, friend time.

Balance.

I have come to a realization: I am a bit controlling.

I have a hard time letting my husband do a job that I do, differently. Note that I am not saying that he will not do it as well as I do. But, he will do it differently. I have been unwilling to allow for this.

So I moan that the distribution of work is unfair. And I get tired and cranky and overwhelmed. He is happy to help. He is happy to do anything that I want him to. Sometimes it bothers me that this is the way it works. That he is waiting for guidance. But then I realize that I am in control. This is a control that I have chosen to assume and I cannot complain when it works against me occassionally.

We talked about this tonight. I made a point to stress that I am coming to terms with my own short comings and I would like some more help from him. I tried hard to be sure that he understood that this was my problem and I was in no way pointing a finger at him but admittedly even though he tried to understand it he said he still felt like I was calling him a dead beat.

He also said that anything I currently do will require a "transition period". That I cannot expect that he will all of the sudden know the ages at which the kids need check ups, what bills post to the account on what days, etc. I understand this too. And yet...it annoys me.

I learned this stuff. I wasn't born with the knowledge of health check ups, tax dates and bill payment.

Such a dilemma. I do not like the lunches he packs for the kids. BUT THEY ARE JUST LUNCHES!!!!! The kids will eat and be healthy and all will be fine in the world. If I want to share the responsibility I have to admit to the fact that he will do things differently. And I think as all good racists will tell you different=bad. I will not be a lunch racist.

I need to practice love and tolerance. I need to delegate and realize that the end result - happy kids, paid bills, Drs. Appts made and kept, meals that I would not have made myself but still satisfy the hunger. Are all the signs of love and balance.

Release.

Breath deeply.

And choose. What do I know I can most easily stay out of? Because I know it is not fair to pass something on to him and then micromanage the task. Not fair to either of us and defeating the point.

So.

Bills.

I hate bills.

I will create a calendar or when payments post. I will include when pay checks are due to deposit. And I will answer each question with the happy knowledge that the more he knows, the sooner I will no longer have to worry about the bills.

I married this man because he is my best friend and my life partner.

In Him I trust.

So he will make lunches every other day and help with bills.

I can already feel the scales shifting.

Balance.

Naked before God

First off.

I have been locked out of my blog from work. I know it is something I have done since I set the IT rules and I haven't set that one. BUT that is why I haven't written in so long.

And look at what has happened in my absence. I have been "discovered". No longer a journal, I now have an audience. hmmmm.

More later.

Now that I have confirmed that I can get in here from home, I have to go.

Peace.
Out.

I can't hear you

Articulate.
One of the many offensive descriptors used by Mr. Biden in his description of Mr. Obama recently. Isn't it funny how we become so comfortable with common usage that we do not stop to think about what we are saying?
I don't think Mr. Biden will make a good president. Not because of the content of what he said but because he said it out loud. All of America might have been thinking it. But you don't say it out loud. Not as a politician anyway.
I read a very interesting article about the use of the word articulate in describing african americans and how what is really being said is actually a racial slur.
Gee Nigger you talk good.
I became aware of another truth in our society. There is no other politician out there that we refer to as anything other than, mr. or ms. and their last names. Our only exceptions are Barak Obama, who is usually referred to in the whole or just as Barak but rarely as Mr. Obama. And of course Hilary. How is it that we are so familiar with her? Isn't she Mrs. Clinton? Shouldn't she actually garner more respect, being a former first lady.
I wonder about word usage.
Like mulatto. This was a name chosen to describe me on more than one occassion. A term coined in slave times because it was believed that white men and black women could not produce fertile children. Like the horse, the donkey and their child the mule. I am not a mule child.
You need only to view my stretch marks and my children to know this. But even before my reproductive heyday, I was not a mule child.
Some words are better left alone. Articulate is indeed one of them. Never have I heard a white person described as articulate.
I had hoped for a Biden Obama ticket in 2008.
Now I need to scope the presidential hopefuls for the running mate that will most likely claim Mr. Obama's rightful spot in the oval office and yet walk with the first man of color into the White House. Albeit as Vice President.
One small step for man, one giant leap for man kind.
Damn, that Neil Armstrong sure was an articulate fellow. Wasn't him?

Gratitude

I was taught my please and thank yous early.

I am trying to do the same with my children. I believe that manners and respect for others is imperative.

I was also taught to write a thank you note. I know that not everyone is and somehow I just can't get past how rude I think it is when I do something for someone and don't even get acknowledged, much less a thank you. It makes me mad that I am so...classist?

I don't mean class in the traditional use of the word because I don't think that good manners are an upper class thing. Actually, I think the opposite is true in many cases. I do think that a "classy lady" is one that is quick and sincere with her please and thank yous.

I wish I were more altruistic. I wish I did good deads simply for the doing of them.

I am not. I want a thank you.

The weird thing here is that I am okay with no thank yous when I do something for someone in crisis. I understand that stress can strip away your please and thank you. I am somehow understanding of the actions I truly do because someone is hurting or in need. I expect no thank you then.

The irony is that this is also when you are most likely to get a thank you or a note.

Hell, an email thank you is more than appropriate in today's world.

I once sent a thank you note for a birthday present (which I have never actually agreed with) and received a note in return. My father insisted that I write a thank you note back. I refused. Several weeks later the woman asked my father if I had ever received her note.

I know this tactic because I use it myself. The actual question here is - "Don't you have manners enough to at least ackowledge my kind act?". In this case I thought a thank you note FOR a thank you note was just a bit much.

I send a card or email when I go to a friend's for dinner. I think that acknowledging the work they did and the good time we had is worth the time and the stamp.

I have little patience for those who can't even say thank you when you have done them a favor. While this will certainly not end a friendship, it will stop me from helping next time.

I just needed to vent.

Thank you for listening.

(see? how hard was that?)