Broken hearts and arms

Joe Cool is grounded from his phone, again.Poor guy just doesn't think the ground rules apply to him, apparently. No deleting texts. No calls or texts after 9pm. No asking girls out or breaking up via text. No offensive messages or pictures from or to you.
I just don't understand how stupid kids think we adults are. I mean, in my day, my parents had no proof of secret conversations on the phone (unless the calls were long distance, and realllly long- say to that guy you were in love with that you talked to for hours on end) (what? i paid them back!). If a kid decided then to deceive her parents, it was way easier than it is today. Today, cell phones exist. Every kid has one or wants one. It doesn't fly that they can't call, didn't know what time it was, didn't hear it ring, or had the phone off. Because all parents know that the teens text constantly, check messages compulsively and never have it on ring, but they answer those vibrating tones quicker than a viper strikes.

I am not a mom that wants to snoop. I really don't want to know everything that is going on in my kids life. But when their behavior and attitude warrant it, I am not above snooping like the best blood hound on the planet. And my poor son just doesn't get it. He was shocked that his use of the cell phone/texting for multiple break-ups and renewed vows of love with the same girl over 3 days, plus the late night texts, deleted conversations, and the final straw of compulsively calling and texting another girl (who was at work and couldn't talk) to ask her out (for the Nth time) resulted in loss of phone use. Seriously? Seriously?!
So, he is phone-less and actually SPOKE on a real phone with his VOICE yesterday- to a GIRL. It was amazing. I don't know when he will get his cell phone back, but I am in no hurry- this is kinda fun...of course it would be even more nostalgic if the land-line phone he used still had a 50ft. coiled cord attached that snaked down the hallway and under his locked door....but watching his leap like a gazelle to grab the cordless was fun,too. :) I jsut wish there was a way to pick up the other cordless phone and start dialing over their conversations...LOL.

Llama girl has been busy as well. She got sick with an ear infection and tonsillitis, after regular doctors office hours, of course. Did you ever notice that a child has 10 times the energy after recovering? Well, by Sunday, my Llama was so wired with renewed health, we had to sit in the back at church because she just couldn't sit still- or rather, she wouldn't quit sitting upside down with her feet waving in the face of the people in the pew behind us. For all the wonderful technology that antibiotic medication is, what with saving lives and all- Zithromax broke my Llama's arm.
OK, so not literally. But curing her infections and all that energy made her decide that she might be Olympics bound with this. very. cartwheel. Watch Me!!!!! Nothing unusual for her, she does cartwheels and flips all the time. She took off running, planted her hands down, flipped over...and landed on her stomach because her arm broke mid-flip.
So, now we have an almost 5 year-old in a bright pink cast. For. 6-8. WEEKS.
It was a clean break, no complications. Lots of attention, gifts, cards and sympathy, poor baby girl, right? Oh, wait- we almost forgot who we are speaking of. Her name IS Llama, Llama, Girlie Drama for a REASON!!!
So, she is one-winged and acts like an invalid when it suits her, particularly when I am cooking supper, or when it is time to clean up her room. Her casted arm only itches when she is sleepy, and the new complaint last night was that the cotton lining was sticking to her hand?!

This is Day 5 of logging my slow decent into insanity. Take note so that when my trial begins, I will have a legitimate defense, please.

Procrastination

Procrastination is my middle name. I do my best work when put in a crunch. Well, that's what I used to tell myself. Then I had kids. I have since learned, slowly, that things that I put off until Scarlett O'Hara's famous "tomorr'a is anoth'a day" rarely get done. Not only that, but then I have to explain to my husband why I didn't do it. Talk about feeling like a kid caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

So, today I am procrastinating doing the last of our tax stuff. We have QuickBooks online, which links to our bank account, and has made my life 90% easier when it comes to entering expenses in the register. All too easy. So easy that I have gotten 8 months behind in entering the details of those entries. I see that the phone bill cleared the bank, and that QB logged it- but the darned QB doesn't enter the name of the bill or what category it goes under- just the amount. Sigh. SO, now I am playing avoidance with my Boss- who happens to be my husband. Are we ready to turn our taxes in yet...ummmmmmm, not quite ready, dear. This week! Promise! that was last week...

So I guess I will get it done today...I hate having to get things done, why can't I put it off until tomorrow?

I suppose I learned at an early age that procrastinating was good for me. Waiting to finish homework, especially writing book reports, almost always resulted in good grades. Not to say all my grades were good- just those that I waited to finish. I still find my self waiting, pondering, dwelling on things in my mind. I am teaching K-2 grade Bible class right now and do I spend all week planning our class activity? Have you not been reading this? So I find myself, at 20 minutes before the bell, scrounging for glue, and darting around in the rain for sticks to make a picture of Abraham & Isaac. And the project came out well and was fun!

BUT, this bad habit has resulted in me putting off serious exercise and diet habits for 10 years. Come to think of it, the last time I got serious about getting healthy was 2 years ago, when I went to a "Military brat" reunion. Again, I had a deadline- I needed to be thinner. What is my motivation now? Hmmmmmm. I was thinking of something like a jar with money in it- $1 for every pound I have to lose. I get the money back with each lost pound....but, no, that isn't motivating enough. Sigh. I am working on working toward motivating myself to do this. It is incredibly hard to change a life-long habit. So, I will think on it....perhaps tomorrow....after all....

TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY!

Old Friends and Memories

Ok, so first let me say, it is not easy to get out of the house on a Wednesday. Alone. On time. I was late leaving, got muddy in the rain, had no time to go buy that cute top I just know was waiting for me at the store, and everyone was driving 50mph on the highway. Dropped Llama at a friends and dashed out- humidity induced frizz frizzing behind me. I was an hour late.

I was an hour late to visit my long lost BFF's, the ones I fretted about seeing. And of course, I was silly to worry. Yes, I am still fat. Yes, I still need to shop for some cuter duds- so I looked shlumpy. But as soon as the door opened- voila- a hug, a look, and we were pals again. (a bummer that one friend couldn't make it- Connie lives 4 hours away)

It had been 22 years since 2 of us moved away. Chris still lives there in the big city, Jasmine has been in Australia for 18 years, and I am in a small rural town, Population 500. Between the three of us, there was more gray, more wrinkles, 5 marriages (2,2,1) and 10 children (4,4,2). Strangers with a common past.
But the more we talked, about the past and our lives now, the more familiar we became. The faces might have changed, but the voice, the mannerisms and the things that make us quirky and unique are the same. And the eyes - I could see my memories in their eyes. I understand now exactly how effective those pictures with the eyes blacked out can be. You think you know who that is, but without the eyes, are you sure?

Oddly, we all intended to bring pictures to share and we all forgot.

I got to meet their spouses. It was great fun to talk with an Australian that has never been to America. Jazz' husband, Mark is a witty, smart man. He commented on how many restaurants we have and how unique the bright yellow school buses are to us. And, of course, that we drive on the wrong side of the road. Oh, and when are we going to go with the rest of the world to the Metric System? (I wonder that myself, my teachers lied- I don't think we're any closer to doing that since they tried to convince us that we needed to learn it!) He takes wonderful pictures. And the accent is greatness. Australians end their words on an up-note. Life sounds more pleasant when ending on an up-note.
Mindy, Chris' wife, was quiet but pleasant, and clearly loves her husband. Like so many have in this down economy, she just recently found another job after being out of work for awhile. She doesn't like her new job, but is glad to have one at all. With 4 children, I can imagine the financial strain!
Unfortunately, Jazz was in town because her father passed away recently. A sad reason to come home. She is the youngest of 6, so her 2 week visit is full of family. I am hoping they might get to come my way before she leaves. Maybe. Her family is busy trying to give them real Texas experiences. What is that? They did the rodeo and stockyards. They bought some cowboy boots. Good enough.

We shared our fleeting memories of our time together. Through the bits and pieces we had a few funny stories- the swimming pool, boys we had crushes on, music we loved. I think without the spouses we would have reminisced more, but not wanting to be rude, we didn't. 4 hours later and we are yawning. Parents with responsibilities. Bummer. I would have loved to stay up all night and get to know them all again. But alas, life happens.

So we took some pictures, we hugged and parted ways. Through the world of cyberspace, we will stay in touch. But this wonderful time was an example of what I tell my son- Facebook, MySpace, email,Texting- none of it is nearly as good as a face-to-face. There is nothing personal about talking with your keyboard. Communication is 90% body language. Our visit was relaxed and familiar. I am so glad to have gotten to see them both and meet their spouses.

Perhaps one day I will make it to Australia. I have always wanted to go. Until then, I will FB, Flikr and Skype. We forget over time how much we loved some people. We forget how important they were. We forget how influential they are in helping make us who we are. And to get the chance to remember in person is a gift. I am thankful.

Frustration

I would love for someone to explain to me how one teenager can be all about getting good grades for college, and another is all about doing as little as necessary to keep average to sub-par grades?

Care to guess which category Joe Cool is in? I know the problem is that he doesn't want to deal with the pressure of hard work- he avoids it like the plague. Not a high-stress coping kind of guy. Hopefully, he will live a long life by being his mellow, fun-loving self.

To make it even better (by that , I mean worse), he got his results back on the ACT test- basically a test given to tell you, based on your scores, what area of skill you might consider for a career as an adult. It could be interesting, I suppose, to see if the test might help narrow down your choices since there is such a great big,wide world out there and deciding on one thing can be hard.
On the other hand, this test could also make you feel like a moron who is doomed to ditch digging in the swamps. Joe said he wanted to perhaps consider the education field- maybe a teacher. He was shot down. He was told he scored below college readiness in all areas- English, Math, Reading and Science. Why? Because he is not in honors classes. He was then given suggested career choices based on his scores...
My son, one of the most friendly, lovable, kind young men, was told he might consider Manufacturing(tool & dye maker, dry cleaner), Mechanics (Auto/aircraft mechanic), Transportation Operation (cab/bus driver-yes, it actually lists that), and some other jobs, none of which he has ever been interested in. While I do not consider any of these jobs bad, so to speak, I was very disheartened by the cold statistical analysis that presumes test scores to be an accurate measure of a persons abilities. He just might be a mechanic one day, and I pray he is happy regardless of what he chooses. But for some group of people to.... well, I won't get too wound up- you parents know where I am going with this.

And so, this has left his parents prayer harder, and fretting more over his already volatile self-esteem and future. Can he be whatever he chooses? Certainly. Can he go to college and be one of the best teachers on earth- Ab-So-Lutely. (can't he?)
Why then do we narrow the World of Opportunity for our children down to a "Career List" of 26 categories, A-Z?? My father used to promise me as a child that I could do anything I chose to if I just set my mind to it. I believed him then and I believe that now. Yes, hard work and determination are involved somewhere in the career equation. Right now, my son doesn't see that need. Perhaps he hasn't found a goal important enough to him to work that hard.
Like Peter Pan, he is trying to stay in Neverland, never to grow up, never to take on boring adult responsibilities. It is frustrating for him and his parents. Slowly I do see changes, so painfully slow at times. But, seriously, after being told by 4 graphs and 6 charts what you are good for...who wouldn't want to go with Peter to the Lost Boys hideout and never come out again? I just might pack our bags tonight! We're coming Tink!

Sabotage

I have discovered that I am not supposed to be super model thin. I used to feel like Cindy Crawford under all this, just knowing that one day I would grow 5 inches, have long, flowing hair and legs that start where my chin is now.
I now know that will never be. I know this because of pizza night. I have been working on small lifestyle changes to my diet. I had a salad when everyone else had pasta and pizza. I made myself pasta for lunch and ended up throwing most of it out. Yay, me.
Then today, the evil public school system announces that it is CiCi's night for the Elementary School. 10% of sales goes to the school. How can I not support that? Shame on Satan for using small children and cheese covered dough to ruin me. Sigh. Oh, I can hear you now- they have soup and salad there, too. True, and I just might do that. But you try sitting in the middle of the factory that makes your favorite food and nibble on plants. Not always fun.


On another note, the weather is sabotaging my 'List of Household Work to be Done'. Balmy and bright when I made the list, it has been windy and wet- and it will be frigid tomorrow- not conducive to painting, repairing or soil preparing.

The many mom things I do that rely on the internet are also being sabotaged. Pay taxes? Frozen screen. Look up trailers for the Band? An error has shut me down. Paying bills? Internet security is taking so long to do a daily scan, it times out the funds so I have to wait 45 minutes to resend and make sure I didn't double pay.

I am thinking of getting out the vaccum and searching for Gremlins. Sabotage is frustrating, tiresome, annoying, and makes me want to throw something.

But then, God reaches over and sends a little thumb sucking Llama over to duck under my arm and say, "Momma, I love you- I want you to come play with me." And I know that my work is being put to the side, again- Ahhh, what a wonderful way to be sabotaged.

Basic Anatomy

Llama is 4. She is blatantly honest. She is curious. And loudly talkative... And I thought it would be cool to buy a 'lift-the-flap' book about the human body. Slap me.

It really is a fun book, we get to talk about the lungs and how smoking affects them. We dwell on how muscles move bones; how the heart pumps blood and why we need to eat good food. Red blood cells, taste buds, spinal cord, and snot.

Llama and crew are now obsessed with the digestive system. The book describes, in perfect child-level detail, how the food goes from the mouth, through the body, to the toilet- all with revealing flaps at each stop along the way. And the wonderful authors of this book, with its nifty flaps, had the forethought to include a very exciting flap.... the flap that reveals what happens to food once it comes to the end of the line, so to speak.

Yes, I speak of that 'P' word that rhymes with 'soup'. Ok, so I'll just say it- poop. There, happy?
The book calls it Waste, but we children LOVE the cartoonish brown blob under that flap at the end of the large intestine. I mean, judging by their reaction, it's like the biggest thrill of their lives thus far. (excluding their first trip to Chuck-E-Cheese's, of course).

And that's not all, they roll around in fits of laughter to learn that our rear-end is just a muscle that helps us move our legs. You'd think we were looking at a bare fanny from the reaction! Oh, wait, you'd have to see the faces when we find out what boogers are made of! Bet you wish you could lift that flap personally! :) And the poor kidneys and bladder are getting their flap worn out, all for the love of seeing some pee-yellow colored drips.

I say all this to let you know that this Llama is so smart, so aware, that she entertains herself (and tortures me) with the retelling of how her anatomy works while in the public bathroom at Kohls. While eating lunch at McDonalds. While 40 people are waiting to use the packed stalls at the movies.
Everywhere, unsuspecting children, elderly and anyone within hearing distance will shortly learn how asthma constricts the lungs. How the eyeball sees. How the brain sends messages down our spine. And what poop is. Never forget, you need to know what poop is. If you aren't sure what poop is, ask Llama.

It is wonderful that she learns so quickly. I do love teaching her new things. And,really, it might be helpful information for some stranger at Walmart, right?

I am considering a slight delay on the reproductive anatomy lesson, however, until she can learn to stop announcing where she doesn't want to grow hair when she grows up- to the nice lady in the stall next to hers at Walmart...

For the Family

Last night, my husband and son decided to place a wager on who would win the Saints-Vikings game. Joe Cool picked the Vikings; Dad, the Saints. The loser has to wash dishes every night for a week. It was a real nail-biter, my son being the most nervous about losing and having to expose his skin to soapy water for seven days straight. He had reason to be worried- Joe Cool Jr. Lost.

Just before the game ended, I made the comment that I was the REAL winner in this deal, regardless of the outcome. Me. Mom. Chief cook and bottle washer. Dish washer extraordinaire.

My husband looked at me funny and said, " I thought the things we do around here were for the entire family, not just for one person." It gave me pause. It made me ponder. I wondered if I should be ashamed for my view on this. Then it occurred to me that if what we do around the house if for each other, then how come I do all the doing?

The flip side of that thought was the understanding that my husband works 60+ hours a week for the family, not just himself. He puts us first by providing for us, and I put them first by doing for them. (I won't list all the ways I help with the business and his other work as well.)

So, now I feel guilty, as usual, for wishing someone else would lighten my load. I feel bad asking Dad for help since he works so much. Joe Cool helps if I drag him away from the solar system where he is the Center of the Universe. Llama is some help when she can be, but generally she is at the age where picking up and cleaning are beneath her- since she's a Princess and all.

I suppose it is my fault for taking the housework load on to myself. Tending to the house, chores, etc. is something everyone should do to help the family function smoothly and efficiently.
I guess what I feel is that while we should all pitch in, no one thinks of doing so.

Oh, occasionally, when the dishes are blocking access to to the coffee pot, Dad will load the dish washer. And Joe Cool will do it without too much fussing, never without being asked and rarely thoroughly. I guess what I need is some consistency. Some predictability of who will be doing what, when.

And so, tonight- after I finishing cleaning up when everyone has gone to bed- I think I will make a chore chart for the entire family. Like Jo-Jo on SuperNanny, I will make a sticker chart for Llama, and if the guys need it, I will go find some gold star stickers so they too can feel accomplished. Just like I do when the floor is freshly swept, mopped and shiny....just before they track mud across it.

:) Happy Monday!