If We Are All Going Down I Might As Well Have Fun

If I believe the news today I may be on a sinking ship, similar to the "unsinkable" Titanic (or USA?). If so, I know I have a few options in taking on the imminent danger. According to the movie, Titanic, I can:

• Lie down on my bed. Masturbate. Or have sex with my husband if he is available. Wait - I don't think this option is in the movie, but it would be more fun than simply lying down, closing my eyes and drowning.
• Find a way to die before I die. Cuz that makes sense.
• Run. Did ya know that zig zagging is especially confusing to water?
• Hide. Another option. Maybe the water won't find/kill me if I hide in the bathtub. It has a drain y'all.
• Jump. Yeah, I might survive that free-fall.
• Count failures like sheep. Die in misery.
• Find a lifeboat. Try not to look into the eyes of the people that don't have a lifeboat. Sort of like the Republicans. Every man/woman/child for themselves. Richest people first. Gay? Good Luck.
• Help the others find lifeboats. Or at least help them find peace by continuing to play my music. (I dance to the tune of LOVE - if ya haven't caught on). You know like the quartet in the movie. Yeah, you get it.

It appears that only the lifeboats can potentially save my life, but at the expense of another's. Yes, that is how it is. I get that.

But how do the ship's officers decide who survives and who goes down with the ship? In the movie there is a definite class divide - the rich are more worth saving than the poor. The third-class passengers were locked away & didn't even have the choice- to run, hide, jump overboard or try for a lifeboat. Locked down in the lowest levels of the ship for fear that they would impede the survival of the elite. I agree that the children should be helped first. But not just the rich, (white, straight, smart) important kids. All kids. And to help all kids you sometimes have to help their family unit.

So, what would I do? Well, because of who I am, I would pick the last option. I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of being cowardly in order to survive. If and when I have the chance to share my music with people that are afraid, left behind, angry, or unsure, I will take it. Always.

BUT If I am locked down in the belly of the ship, with no one to share my music with - well then I will go out in ecstasy playing with myself.

Bulk Food = Samples. Yes or No?

Yesterday I told my child to steal. When the words came out of my mouth I realized there is no great way to explain what I meant and the why's and how's of it to a four year old. To ease some of my guilt I figured I would explain it to you. Like a confession. Forgive me friends, for I have sinned.

Our local mega-grocery store has a wonderful bulk food/candy section. There was a time when they passed out suckers to every kid that went through the check-out lane. When that stopped, I began allowing the kids to pick one thing out of the bulk food bins if they could make it through the store without whining, crying or asking for a dozen things. The big reward at the end of the long, boring shopping journey. BUT I did not begin this tradition without checking first. I am, for the most part, a rule follower. You will not find me participating in much that could get me in trouble with the law. So, why do I take a piece of bulk food without paying for it? Because I have asked the store clerks and management a million times (actually more than a dozen) if it is okay to have one piece of bulk candy, per child, while shopping. I have always been told that "yes, it is fine". I have done it in front of store clerks and they don't say anything. I tell you the truth: it was never intended to be sneaky or hidden.

Yesterday, my 4 yr old asked if we could pay for his Golden Coin (chocolate). Sure. That is fine.
So, I took the Golden Coin up to the register as I was paying for my groceries.

I asked the lady clerk if we could pay for the one Golden Coin.

She said "No. You have to buy more. They are measured by cost per pound and one won't weigh enough to be measured." And.... I waited for her to say, "He can just have it."

She did not say anything. 4yr old cried loudly when I said "You can't have it." All the while I am thinking ... c'mon lady just make up a price "25 cents, 1 dollar, give it away..." She obviously didn't know their policy on SHARING one piece of candy. She just stared at me like I was stupid and wrong. Well, maybe they didn't have a policy TO share, but is it out of the realm of her power to make it happen? Let me restate this. I have asked about the bulk candy many times(due to my fear of doing something wrong and getting in trouble). Each time we go to that store we get a piece of candy - so at least once a week. So this not happening was WAY against the grain of normal for my 4yr old. I know, poor him.

When he was crying as we were pushing our groceries out to the car, - minus one Golden Coin - he said "why can't I have my coin?" And I said "Because you asked to pay for it. Next time just take it like we always do." And I realized I just told my son to steal. He doesn't know that his mom has okayed their taking with the powers-that-be. He doesn't understand that sometimes when you try to do the right thing you are met with confusion and no options. He doesn't understand that some people lack the ability or power to be creative or make decisions in their jobs.

And now I don't know if I have been teaching my kids something horrible all along. My kids know that we don't take anything from a store without paying for it. I just considered the bulk food a "sample". I believe my children will grow up to think taking a piece of bulk food is okay, but I don't think that means that they will think taking a bag of bulk food is okay, or taking something else is okay. So, I am not sure what to think about having taught my kids that taking a piece of candy, even with permission, is okay.

Tell me what you think!

Single Parenting Might be For Me! .... for occasional pre-planned weekends

Sign me up for the Single for an Occasional Weekend Plan (SOW? like a mother pig or to tend for growth? perfect!)! Is there one? Maybe we can both sign up for the same weekend and really have a good time! Me, my kids, you (um, just the moms - sorry dads), your kids. What fun we would have.

Kevin went to a 3-D archery shoot this weekend (picture giant stuffed animals in the woods - aim & shoot). It has been raining all weekend. Not just drizzling, but raining. I am worried that we will lose something. Not sure what. A tree. Basement carpeting. A kid in the quick-mud. So, I have no husband, no outdoor space to play, & danger lurking out my door [added for dramatic effect]. You would think I would be curled up in a corner alternating sips of coffee with shots of Hot Damn. Eyes red and bloodshot. Voice hoarse from yelling. But, I am not.

I actually do quite well when Kevin goes away. It feels like I have one less person to manage. Oh, wait, I do. He really creates as much mess as the kids. He leaves his dishes and shoes for me to pick up. He practices archery instead of folding laundry. He comes home wondering if dinner is ready when it's not. Or comes home without an appetite when I have cooked. I said to him when he left, "wow, it's amazing. you can just walk out the door when it's time to leave. no notes about care of kids. no phone numbers in case of emergency. just goodbye. have fun. see you soon." He said "well, if this were my job i might leave you a note." I said "oh, did you leave notes at work?" He said "no". See it's just not the same.

I know when I start working I will add my paid job to all of the above. It won't be divvied up evenly. Even women who claim feminism get pulled into the strong ancestral feeling of "mom" and what that means. And dad's generally go through life with more freedom to come and go, or sit down and watch cartoons (bleh!), or play with their bow and arrows.... not that they see it that way. I know having a family to provide for has weighed heavily on Kevin. So, maybe it is fair that for one weekend he can just leave his responsibilities without fear or turning back and go shoot fake animals in the woods. Oh, and he called to say he won. I asked what he won. He said "nothing but the bragging rights of beating 6 other guys". That was enough for him. I wouldn't enter a contest and drive 5 hours to win if there wasn't a prize at the end. I'm just sayin'.

For me the contest was "can i survive a single parent weekend". And I am happy to say that this weekend I felt: more patient. more energy. more willingness to be the only one in charge. i happily entertained, cooked, and taxied children. i spent less time on the computer and more time with kids. i planned creative projects (in my head). i considered painting the boys room and would have except they can't agree on a color. It all seemed to flow well and I actually enjoyed my time with the kids.

So, while I can pretend that single parenting is easier and choose to blog about the disadvantages of being married to a man-child, I secretly yearn for his return and warm body in my bed (as opposed to the many fingers and toes in my back). I am well aware of the two sides to this fairy tale; the struggles that the princess has understanding her prince-charming but loving him all the same. I am sure my girlfriends and I will tell our stories again and again, and always come up with the same conclusion. "You don't marry the person you can live with. You marry the person you can't live without."

List of Things to Do Before I Die, aka The Bucket List

On June 13, 2008, before I started this blog, I made a Bucket List on my facebook page. Many of my friends have already read it and commented. I thought I would post it here for my blog followers and lurkers. I really don't put a lot of NEED into most things on my bucket list. I am a happy, fulfilled person with or without some of these goals being met. However, it's always good to have goals; so, given the time and opportunity (and in some cases with the proper motivation and dedication) I will attempt to meet these before I croak, die, kick the bucket....

1. Learn to play guitar.
2. Travel to Africa - possibly staying for a month or more.
3. Become friends with my children when they are adults.
4. Have a great relationship with my future daughter(s)-in-law.
5. Have a male friend that can advise me on fashion, relationships, and decorating without wanting to kiss me.
6. Bring moms together in a safe, supportive, and encouraging environment to share, learn and grow together.
7. Write a book. Don't care if it is published, not sure if it is fiction or non, I just have a lot to say.
8. Stop random thoughts from ruining my day - like the one I just had now "you'll never get any of this done".
9. Give an accurate intuitive reading for someone some day.
10. Enjoy cooking and cleaning enough to entertain as often as my mom.
11. Make sure that everyone I know knows how much I love them.
12. Learn to sing in my own voice (ignoring the thoughts that Ihave to be a soprano when in fact I am closer to an alto).
13. Find peace in every moment.
14. Get in awesome shape.
15. Adopt, become a foster parent, or a Big Sister.
16. Stand up for the underdog when presented with that oportunity. For people that are not treated with dignity or given the same consideration because of their race, age, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation.
17. Attend a Byron Katie School for The Work.
18. Get laser vision for my eyes - tired of contacts.
19. Have wild, passionate sex many times a week for many years - and just once - smoke a cigarette afterwards.
20. Take a road trip to the west coast while the kids are still young - but not too young.
21. Tour Canada - stop to visit Natasha. Canada is the only place I have ever seen the Northern Lights - would love a repeat.
21. a. I should add - learn more about Canada before I go.
22. Travel the world - too many places to list.
23. Own a horse again.
24. Start a Holistic Wellness Center - welcoming all people.
25. Shop locally and eat predominantly organic.
26. Open a boutique of some sort.
27. Practice Yoga regularly. Possibly getting teacher certification.
28. Become a snowbird. Or live in multiple places in a year.
29. Witness the birth of at least one of my grandchildren.
30. Grow my own fruits and vegetables.
31. Go on a week long horseback riding and camping excursion.
32. Have enough time in the day to call every person I promised to call and let them know I KNOW I am a slacker when it comes to the phone and that in fact it has nothing to do with them and I love them.
33. Stop analyzing life and just live it!!
34. Stop caring about what other people think - about me, or life, or religion, or politics.
35. Feel a daily, constant connection to LOVE (aka GOD).
36. Fall in love with my husband again and again.
37. See Kevin happy and doing something he loves - either with hobbies or work.
38. Win the lotto so I can do what I always wanted to do and pay off my friends mortgages and take care of my family (parents, brother, SIL, my own kids and husband).
39. Get creative again: draw, paint, design.
40. Start a not-for-profit that redecorates kids rooms so they have a personal space of their own that feels warm and nuturing.
41. Learn jewelry making and knitting.
42. Learn to play the piano.
43. Go to a luxurious spa with Kevin for a week of crazy relaxation and pampering.
44.Pull of a Pixie cut. Yeah Right a 5'11 pixie. (Update: Accomplished 7/08)
45. Have platinum blond hair - or some crazy hair color.
46. Get another tattoo.
47. Rock a bikini starting next year and for at least 10 more years.
48. Play in some adult sports league (volleyball, tennis, etc.)
49. Start an adventure club for women (outdoor or athletic adventures mostly).
50. Own a few GREAT pieces of art.
51. Own a cabin in the woods on a river.
52. Hire my house cleaner back and keep her forever.
53. Have friend teach me how to make Mozzarella cheese.
54. Make Kevin laugh again as hard as he did when I snapped myself in the face with a rubber fitness band (while dancing).
55. Stop biting my nails FOR GOOD!
56. Take the kids to Makinac Island and bike around the island.
57. Shop from Athleta or Title Nine without worries about cost.
58. Have fresh flowers in my house year round.
59. Rent a place in the Carolina's on the beach with a group of friends and their kids.
60. Travel to California with KARK x 2 - the beach house is calling us!
61. Take individual trips with each of my kids when they reach a certain age.
62. Finish my Reiki Master course.
63. Formally study Holistic Health - doesn't have to lead to a degree but it could.
64. Buy the most luxurious mattress, sheets, bedding and pillows so that when I fall asleep I feel like I am in Heaven.
65. Own pretty pajamas suitable for sitting on the porch while drinking my morning coffee.
66. Read Mists of Avalon again.
67. Own 6 season tickets to Michigan State University football games.
68. Never stop dancing.
69. Speak Spanish fluently.
70. Find the tree that my mom and dad carved their initials on when they met. The tree was in Jackson Hole, WY in a campground in the mountains.
71. Type my dad's travel journal he was keeping when he met my mom so there is a copy of it forever.
72. Take the fall color tour of New England that I have wanted to do for years.
73. Swim with the dolphins.
74. Swim across the lake I grew up on at least once a year until I can no longer swim.
75. Visit winery's around the world.
76. Have the audacity to skinny dip again.
77. Decorate like Martha Stewart for Halloween and then throw an elaborate Halloween party.
78. New Year's Eve in Times Square - just once.
79. Learn about my lost relatives and ancestors - and meet a few.
80. Volunteer or work in the Child Life department of a hospital.
81. Host a foreign exchange student.
82. Go to a chocolate factory and take a tour.
83. Watch wild chimpanzees.
84. Have a past life regression.
85. Send my parents on a dream vacation.
86. See a woman become President.
87. See an African American become President.
88. Swim in a pool of water at the bottom of a waterfall.
89. Learn to bartend.
90. Put my rubber fitness band dance on You Tube.
91. Go to an Ellen DeGeneres Show.
92. Learn to sew well enough to make adorable kids clothes and pajamas bottoms with a long inseam.
93. Be on a community board of directors.
94. Support parents just learning about their child's ADHD, anxiety or other neurological disorder.
95. Own a hybrid car.
96. Live the Way of the Tao.
97. Keep a fairly regular journal or blog. (Update: I think I am doing that! Woo-hoo!)
98. Take 4 year old to the tea cups at Disney - he has been asking to go for a few years.
99. Get close to whales in the wild.
100. See my niece cured of Diamond Blackfan Anemia, a rare blood disorder.
101. Die happy, fulfilled, and loved.

Come Write On My Bathroom Walls!

Once again, I need your help. I am starting a quote wall in my pink bathroom. This bathroom is attached to my kitchen that was painted when the water damage happened. The entire kitchen was light pink and glossy. Luckily, the damage changed that to mossy green. The bathroom was not painted because it had no wall damage. So, it is still faintly pink and glossy. I really have wanted to paint it, but since I am not getting to that project, I thought I would make a quote wall out of it.

My creative neighbors have a quote wall. It is their entire kitchen/dining room. The way I have heard it, they allow friends and family to add their favorite quotes on occassion. Like bathroom stall writing - without the vulgarities, BFF's, or TLA's. Quotes. Only. Good One's. That make you think. or Feel Good.

So, I am going to do the same in the pink bathroom. Fitting, I think. The bathroom. It's small, with four high walls. I started with the Hafiz quote I used the other day on my blog about the sun never saying to the earth "you owe me".

If you live near me and want to come write your quote in my bathroom, I'll let you. You must pass either the friendship/family test (as in, I know you) or a background check before I let you in my house. :)

If you don't live near me and want me to add your quote to my wall, submit it in the comments. I'll pick my favorites. If I pick your quote I will also use it as a blog title and come up with something smart to say about it. Or, I'll try, anyway.

I can't wait to hear your favorites!

Hot Damn Between My Legs & Various Other Stories from Wheatland

What a weekend! Wheatland never disappoints. You can guarantee you'll eat all the wrong (but yummy) foods, hear good music, drink good drinks, and watch your kids have fun. Here is a list of various funnies and warmies from the weekend. Enjoy!

• Kevin yelling "Amish!" every time we pass an Amish person on our drive out there. We pass a school and Amish children are playing on the playground (very sweet, really) and 9 year old says "Why are the Amish so short?" not realizing they were children (because they all dress like the adults).
• Cars line up to get in the gate. While waiting we are having a good ol' time. I crack a beer (we drove about 10 yards every 10 minutes) and sip my Hot Damn (cinnamon schnapps). KARK (m) says something about Hot Damn between my legs and we agree my blog title must be "hot damn between my legs". Thanks KARK(m)
• KARK x2's 4yr old daughter is singing to herself and when I lean in to listen to her she sings "I am singing a song... And my tunes all have love in them." This girl is so happy. She actually walks on her tippy toes or skips everywhere. Love her.
• KARK's 7 yr old daughter grabs my hand as I take her to the bathroom. Love her.
• My diet consisted of Greek Pizza, fried Potatoes and Gravy, walking tacos, an elephant ear, and beer/hot damn/coffee/gatorade. Talk about delicacies.
• Laughing with KARK(f) after we had a red bull and vodka. I'll try to remember why we were laughing and insert here:
• Listening to friend MK's son talk about a huge spider he had found: he said he didn't know if it was poisonous but if it bites him and he dies, it is.... (he LOVES bugs).
• Hearing the story of MK meeting her husband JK. He slapped her on the ass and said "do you want to make out?" She said no and declared him annoying. They are together over a decade later. So sweet.
• My 4yr old went into the porta-potty. I made sure he turned the green button to red by locking the door before I went in the next one. He came out first and wanted to know which one I was in. I banged on the side to show him and he said in his worried tone "MOM, you're not supposed to go in the red one's!!"
• Hearing Cheryl Wheeler. She's super funny and a good songwriter.
• The supposed 3-hour nap I took on Saturday. Thanks Kevin!
• KARK(f) reminding me that two years previous I was grumpy on the last day (Sundays are hard) and had told them before we left that "I am sorry I am moody. I haven't pooped in three days, I am tired, and I have dust boogers."
• I am happy to report, I was much less grumpy this time on the last day of Wheatland. I swear it was the walking tacos.
• My mom made awesome chicken salad, lent me her belt and put up with my eye rolling at her humming. (To tunes she had never heard - she was predicting the next note....but really, I'm sorry).
• My mom and dad impress me by coming to Wheatland even though they are "seniors", camping, and actually having a good time. They're so cool.
• I love Wheatland. It catapults me right into feeling fallish. It is good time spent with old and new friends. The kids love it, except for the "boring" music. I get a weekend outdoors.

Until next year, "Happy Wheatland!"

What We Could Do With A Love Like That

Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth "you owe me".
Look what happens with a Love like that!

It lights the whole Sky. (Hafiz)

If I had to guess at why I was put on this earth - what difference I can make - I would say it has to be to love. I think we are all here to love, though. Is that a special skill? Something that can be made into a PrimeTime Heroes character? I mean do I really posess any loving talent greater than another? No, I don't think so. But I do think that loving is central to my existence. I want to learn how to do it well.

I already love so many people. I love the people put in my life without earthly choice: my parents, my children, my grandparents, my in-laws (via the earthly choice of my husband).

My earthly choices: Kevin and my friends.

The various people that I know well enough to show my love: co-workers, friends of friends, long ago friends, friends parents, teachers, people that I see frequently- some whose names I don't know (grocery store clerks), kids friends, kid friends parents.

Those that aren't the easiest to get along with because of who I am: George W. Bush, haters, negative people, manipulators, con artists, people with extremely different beliefs than me, darkworkers.

And the others - the one's that I find it hardest to love: criminals, child abusers, toxic people.

Those people least like me are hardest to know, right? I mean our differences make us resist getting to know one another. There are a lot more people in this world that are different than me than are the same. And yet, as I explained in my other post: Whatever, Same Difference, those differences are neither here nor there. I don't really care about them - when it comes down to humanity and love, I would prefer to hedge my bets on love winning in the end.

Do I want to make earthly choices about how to spend my time? Yes. I would rather spend my time with people that respect me and love me back.

Did I make an earthly choice on who to marry? Yes. I had to pick one person, people. And he had to pick me back. That's how marriage works (for me). Do I think that means I could never love another man again? No. I know I could - in much the same way. And I hope, should anything ever happen, that Kevin could love another woman in a similar way.

Love is our greatest expression of freedom. When we stop putting obstacles in the way of love and just love - we are truly free.

I wrote a question on facebook the other day. I asked my girlfriends to tell me if they tell their girlfriends that they love them, hug/kiss them, hold hands, or any physical contact (out of support or just because). I wasn't asking because I have an agenda. I just wanted to know. We give guys a hard time for their lack of emotions and ability to hug other guys. And yet, at most I hug my friends hello or goodbye. I sometimes tell girlfriends I love them. And I have kissed a few friends on the cheek when I felt they really needed the support. Yet, my daughter naturally holds hands with her best friend as they walk down the street. She and her friend giggle and hug and express their feelings about their "best friendship" with ease. And I sit wondering. When will that change? What rules will our girls learn that will suffocate their natural expression of love?

Is reading this making you squirm? Or question my sexual orientation? Honestly, it is making me squirm a little at thought of being questioned. And yet, I am learning to not care. I love to love. I love to be free in that way. There are so many rules I can't keep up with them - so I try not to. The love I feel for my fellow humans transcends those well known Greek/Christian classifications: Eros (sexual), Phileo (brotherly), Storge (parental), Xenia (hospitality). I feel something more like Agape: loving the soul of every individual.

If I could be a Hero would my special power (Love) make me extremely weak or superhumanly strong? Would I be so loving and trusting of others that one could come to me in a hug and stab me in the back? Or would my continued love for them at the moment of my death transcend death itself?

The children of Adam are limbs of each other
Having been created of one essence.
When the calamity of time afflicts one limb
The other limbs cannot remain at rest.
If you have no sympathy for the troubles of others
You are not worthy to be called by the name of "man". - Sa'di

He Doesn't Hate School, He'd Just Rather Be Home With Mom

Well, today was the first day of school. As a kid, I always loved the beginning of school. It meant fall, apples, cool days, new routines. I just couldn't wait to go back. The new school year eventually became old routine, but September 1st - November 1st was heaven.

My husband hated school as a kid - especially back to school. Kevin's ADHD and dyslexia contributed to his anxiety. So, when our 9 year old started saying he hated school in 1st grade we were not surprised. He has been diagnosed with ADHD and generalized anxiety disorder. He has pretty severe separation anxiety from mom (that's me).

Each school year since kindergarten has played a large part of our understanding our ADHD/GAD child. In kindergarten we realized he has trouble focusing. 1st grade he was diagnosed with ADHD and started meds. 2nd grade he had a teacher that he loved- and although she wasn't the best academic teacher in the world we realized the importance of having a kind, soft-spoken teacher for him. 3rd grade he was diagnosed with GAD and we trialed different medications and doses to add to the ADHD med. We also had team meetings with school officials, his teacher, and an advocate. As a team, we wrote a 504 plan that allows him certain accomodations, such as: two phone calls home during the day, 5 minutes in the hall when he needs a break, a wiggle seat, and a safe place in the school when he is feeling very anxious.

It is very hard to be a parent of a child with special needs. For me it is not hard work physically, or even mentally. Just hard work emotionally. Sometimes I am Tough Mom and tell him that no matter his crying and whining he is going to school. I have to unlock his grip from my arms and hand him over to the principal and run. Seriously. Other times I am Easy Mom and I let him stay home. I don't know if there is a reason that I choose to do one over the other. I think I just get a feeling of how serious his anxiety is at the moment - and, honestly, my ability to cope. And no matter how I choose to react, I always let him know I love him.

Last year was hard in many ways. We were trying to figure out the best medication combination for his anxiety and ADHD. This led to some anger and aggression on certain meds or doses. He got in a few fights, he talked about not living, he was miserable. By the end of the year we had a good combination ironed out and he finished the year well. Besides, it's easier for him to be in a good mood when the end is near.

So, imagine my surprise when he asked, out of nowhere, this past weekend "Mom if I never call home for the whole year will you buy me a Nintendo DS?" I said "SURE!" without even thinking about it. Then I quickly added "Actually, I still want you to be able to call home. But if you don't cry at drop off for the whole year you can have a Nintendo DS." He was super-geeked. SUPER! We had been talking about what it will take for him to get into Michigan State (where his dad and I went), as is his plan. I told him he has to get A's, B's, and C's at least. That means he has to stay in school and try. Soon after this conversation he asked about the DS.

I believe that he thought about the long-range goal of college, which created his short-term goal of a successful 4th grade. He then asked for a reward for meeting that short term goal. I didn't bribe him, coerce him, or dangle the prize in front of him. It was a huge moment for me. I am very proud of him. Little does he know I probably would have said yes to just about any toy or gadget. I just want him to be happy and fearless. Fearless, because nothing he does or does not do could change my love for him. And I know that happiness happens when you choose it. He has to go to school, that is not a choice. His freedom lies in choosing to have a good time despite his struggles.

The first day of school went really well. No tears. No fear. No clinging hugs. He seemed genuinely okay. That's all I can hope for each day. I love him so much. And I am so grateful.

Talkin' To Your Kids About Sexy

My 7 year old daughter giggles her little heart out when she thinks about her mom and dad kissing. Somewhere along the way she learned the word "sexy". She often wonders if her dad and I have sexy? Do the people on TV have sexy when they kiss? What IS sexy?

I tell her sexy is like a grownup word for pretty. She asks if she is sexy. NO - ABSOLUTELY NOT, YOUNG LADY! You are forbidden from sexy until you are out of this house!

Explaining sex to your kids is a touchy thing. My oldest walked in on us when he was about 5. He has not forgotten that [scary] experience. Neither have I. Since then, he has puzzled together a limited understanding of what sex is. Last year he and a friend googled "big boobs" - he was 8. We sat him down and talked to him about viruses and trojans. You never know what those internet sites will pass to your computer! I DO think it's about time to talk to him about human viruses and Trojans, though. Another time we passed our local strip club and he asked what it was. I told him it is a place where girls dance without their clothes on, and though that may sound appealing, it is not. So there.

I just don't like to lie to my kids. Besides, I am a bad on-the-spot storyteller. I am not one of those mom's that makes up words for their children's body parts and functions. It's penis or vagina, people. Boobs, breasts, or tits. Butt or Booty. That is the vocab you'll hear in this house. So if they ask, I tell. Without making it sound too appealing, of course.

I don't have a lot of inhibitions in the honest about sex category. However, I am a little freakish about shutting and locking the door. Even if the kids are gone. That wide open bedroom door just seems to scream - come look at us!! It's one thing to talk about sex, another thing to be a live demonstration. Yes, they know what goes on behind the doors - or rather, they have some idea. Sometimes they sit and wait for us to open the door. My daughter giggles and asks "were you being sexy together?"

I respond "Yep. So, what should we do today?" I mean, is there a better way?

Feminism vs. Stop Taking Life So Seriously

I truly believe that Zen (or Peace) is achieved internally. You choose to be in a state of Zen or you don't. We are overloaded with rules on how to interact with people so as not to offend. Or, we react negatively to others because we are told that we are supposed to be offended. Have you ever paused (after you've reacted) to wonder why you reacted so strongly? What if how peaceful you feel is influenced by how you react to life's crazy little moments, and not because the crazy little moments exist?

A few years ago, I went to the mall to pick out a new wedding band (mine had vanished). I was in a good mood. I was by myself, picking out expensive jewelry. REALLY good mood. 3 hours later, despite my inablility to make a decision, I maintained my good attitude. The people working with me were very patient. I joked, I laughed, I almost cried (when it hit me what I had lost: grandma's diamonds). But I had fun.

I was leaving the mall when I came to an escalator that wasn't working. In the middle of the escalator were two teenage boys playing around and looking over the side. I started a little "escalator jog" up the middle, between them. I was wearing jogging pants, so I thought I would put them to use.

When I got to them I said "Did you guys stop this thing?" with a smile on my face. One of them answered "Naw" and the other looked at me and made a Pffffff sound and said "What's yo name?" to which I answered "Oh, I am too old for you" as I jogged up past them. I thought it was over. The banter. But No, he replies "But yo ass ain't".....

Mind starts racing... Huh?..... I should turn around and say something about respecting the ladies. Wait, am I really offended?....Nope, I guess not enough - just keep going.... Still in a good mood.

I called Kevin to apologize for being so late and I told him the story. When I got to the "punch line" I started to crack up. I have laughed every time I have told this story. What is so funny? The comments were unexpected, but mostly that my 30 year old booty appealed to a random high school boy! HA! Wow! When someone compliments me, even in an offhand way, it's my choice to accept it and say thank you, or not and get offended.

I recently had a freind (woman) say "At the risk of sounding queer, I want to tell you how pretty I think you are". I accepted her compliment. Later, I wondered why can't we compliment people without starting a sentence "at the risk of sounding queer, sexist, ageist, etc"? And why can't we also accept a compliment without explaining it away to them or to ourselves? It's hard to do. I wanted to tell her "Oh, no you are so silly", but instead I just said "thanks". It wasn't a game. It was a genuine compliment and a peaceful acceptance.

I know that the peace I feel or don't feel is my decision. I am at peace with some cellulite and an aging body. BUT especially when it is complimented. So the feminist in me, who would have turned around and taught the boys a lesson, was not in that evening. I was happy, peaceful and light hearted and so I shut down the "reactor" in my head and kept walking. That boy certainly didn't earn my respect, and that was HIS choice. My choice was to move on. My choice was to smile and take the compliment, however offhanded it was.

There is a great song from my youth that I am proud to say still applied to ME that night:

I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung
Wanna pull up front
Cuz you notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring--Sir Mix-a-Lot

How 18,000 Greenbacks Found Their Way Home

This is the tale of my biggest mistake to date. The one that could have sent my husband packing....

Once upon a time I was desperate for a job I could do from home. I found an adorable children's clothing company that was just starting up as a direct-sales business. The clever and charming owner called me personally when I sent my kit money in. I was a naive and trusting girl. We developed a "friendship". Words full of magical fluff spilled from her mouth. Soon I was her number two - her Chief of Staff, she proclaimed.

When the company was behind in production - I offered to do anything I could to help. She just needed a little money. Taking equity out my house I gave my new best friend $18,000 dollars for small ownership in her company.

Fast forward - her practices got worse. Or maybe she was slipping on the cover-up. I was flabbergasted when she admitted to me that she used MY money to buy a big screen TV and a sectional couch. She started ignoring my phone calls. The friends I had made were leaving the business - warning me as they went. I stayed, in hopes that I could still help her and afraid to leave my investment. Finally, the writing was on the wall - in ALL CAPS and bold letters. GET OUT NOW!!!!!! So, I did. I said goodbye to my hard work, my hopes for my future as Chief of Staff, my money, and most upsetting: my belief in the goodness of this person.

After I was no longer involved in the goings-on I tried to work with her to get my $18,000 back. I learned (finally) con artist's don't work well with others. So, I went to lawyers. Lawyers said "Ha, $18,000. Funny. Call me when you lose $100,000." I realized the entire thing was all part of her plan. She had actually borrowed $30,000 at that time, my $18,000 and someone else's $12,000. Not to mention a bunch of little loans. I found out that she owed a lot of people small sums. Man, she was GOOD at this con artist thing.

So, we gave up. Life went on. I missed my money. I talked to it every so often. Asking it to find it's way back to me. I laid out my purse at night in hopes that it would catch the familiar scent of me and come crawling home. But, alas, it did not.

Kevin loved me anyway. He never once got mad at me or called me a stupid idiot.

Time passed. We were not looking to move but we found this great house in our special Leave it To Beaver neighborhood. It was still in the city limits but overflowing with Mother Nature's abundance. Our own oasis. Well, Outdated 80's Oasis. We were smitten with the potential. We put in an offer. It was accepted. This was January.

While waiting to close on the house we learned that a water pipe broke. It flowed for a day or two and water had gone everywhere. We were told "It's bad. It might be too much water." Sure enough water had flooded our oasis. It started in the kitchen. Spread to the dining room. Poured down the stairs to the basement (it's a walkout). Dripped through the kitchen floor to the basement ceiling. Goodbye basement carpet, ceiling and walls. Goodbye kitchen walls and floor. Goodbye carpet in the dining room. Goodbye flaming red carpet in the den.

The bank that owned the house had three days to pull out. I don't think they even thought of it. They were sick and tired of the house. They hired a mold guy. He eventually cleared it to be put back together. They fixed the walls in the kitchen and painted the entire kitchen a color that I chose. They replaced the ceramic tile on the kitchen floor with tile we liked. They put back the basement ceiling and put in carpet that we chose. The red carpet was replaced. We received a credit for the dining room floor and basement walls. We had upgrades planned for those. We ended up buying the house for the original agreed upon price, before the damage.

A few months later I was expressing my gratitude all over again, silently to God. I realized in a flash the oddest coincidence. The cost the bank incurred to put back our house was $17,800!! I could not believe it. The Money Heard Me! My 18,000 Greenback Friends Had Come Home!

Do I sometimes wish that my clever friend would wake up and realize how wrong she was and send us the money in the mail with a long apology? Of course - but only once in a great while. Thing is I am grateful. I had an amazing experience working in her company. I met great people. I gained confidence in myself. I realize now what the lawyers were saying - if I had more money at the time I probably would have given it to her . Con artists can do HUGE damage. Mine was not huge. And I had the opportunity to experience God's magic. There is a greater force at work.

She Talks To Angels

Have you ever heard voices? Or had visions? Do you communicate with God, Angels, or dead people? Do they communicate back?

When I was a kid I remember hearing voices in my head. I never told anyone about them. They seemed a little creepy - calling my name - seeking my attention. I figured the best that could come of it would be a trip to Dr. PsychO. I have always had intimate discussions with God. Mostly one way. I loved the book "Are you There God, It's Me Margaret?" just for the simple fact that another child was talking to God - often. When I talked to God, I didn't really list off my wishes, I left those for Santa. I really just had questions and wonders.

My teenage years consisted of just getting through. As did college. I pushed through college in 3 1/2 years. Not because I am a super-overachiever or because I am super smart. I just figured I better get it done with quick, before I quit. I like to quit. I might decide one day just to quit this blog - so be ready. I like to say "I like change" instead of "I quit". Anyways, I am rambling. So, I got through college and LIFE opened up to me. An inifinite amount of choices and opportunities to be ME.

Over the last five years I have taken a strong interest in personal development. I sought answers to the questions I had as a child. I became immersed in all things spiritual, mostly books and youtube videos by nationally known authors. You can find most of their works in the New Age section. A few New Age authors, with many bestsellers, have the privlege of residing in the Self Improvement section. I have read Wayne Dyer, Don Miguel Ruiz, Byron Katie, Doreen Virtue, Jane Roberts, Esther and Jerry Hicks (Abraham), Eckhart Tolle, Debbie Ford, Neale Donald Walsch, etc. As I rode out my life journey many other things began to happen to lead me in new directions.

I had a friend introduce me to Shamanic Journeying to drum music. During my first time I had a very strong vision about a friend's child that was going through some things. I shared the vision with my friend in hopes that it would help.

A good friend's deceased dad (whom I have never met) started "talking" to me during a meditation. When I silently expressed my disbelief that HE was really talking, he gave me a obscure piece of info to pass on. Later it was confirmed accurate by my friend's mom. I also had this feeling of her dad's personality from my meeting with him and shared it with her. She said it sounded accurate.

I regularly ask Angels and Spirit Guides to help me and guide me. I usually get pretty clear advice if I am open and willing to listen.

Last spring, while Googling something specific, I came across Steve Pavlina's website. Evidently, he is the Online Blog Guru for all things personal development. I was stunned that I had never heard of him before. I spend a lot of time on the internet researching personal development. Then I noticed he was promoting his wife's blog, Erin Pavlina. Erin writes about her experiences as an inutitive. I was in love with their togetherness. Two things I was passionate about under ONE roof. I can't imagine what it's like to be at their dinner table.

I booked an appointment with Erin and had a reading. I found her to be spot-on. She wasn't predicting my future, she was giving me guidance (from my guides) on where I could be heading. Everything she relayed to me I had heard from my own intuition, before my reading. However, my interpretations were a mumble-jumble mess of should's and should not's. She clearly stated the could's. Things I could do, if I chose to. She cleared my imaginary windshield so I could see where I was going.

Today I emailed her another thank you. I wish I could personally thank all of the people that been serendipitously placed in my life to help guide me back to myself.

Part of my feeling different has to do with my life-long quest to know God. To know the reality of life beyond this life. Do I think I have all of the answers? No. Do I have some ideas? Definitely. Do I want to know more? Sure. Everyone I come into contact with is placed in my life to be my teacher. I know this. Life is the classroom for the Soul.

Special thanks to some of my favorite teachers:
My great friend KARK (female version) who has taught me so much about being religious and spiritual!
My mom who taught me that it's not what you say but what you do that matters.
My husband who loves me unconditionally (almost - except for the short hair, tattoo and drag on a cigarette that I take once a year)
My MIL who taught me to be honest and set boundaries.
Countless friends who share different beliefs than me but have the courage to love me anyway!
My dad and my grandpa M. Two beautiful, kind men that made me feel captivating before I knew what captivating was.
My kids for teaching me that I still have a lot to learn!

The Style Of My Life

When I chose Scandalicious Suburbia it was with purpose. My thinking was this: I have a habit of hiding my ideas, beliefs, humor, and awesome dance moves from friends and family. When I let something "slip" it seems that I usually get a reaction. So I conformed - and still do - to fit in. This is something I have done for a lifetime, but have recently been working on changing. I won't always let my freak flag fly, though, because I am naturally shy and introverted. I need breaks, even from myself.

My great friend, KARK (male version), recently criticized my choice of "suburbia". He's just upset because he lives in the same neighborhood and thinks he's really progressive or something. Which he is. He also says what he thinks. Which I love him for. But I realized recently that I have many friends that live nearby and might feel the same. Though no one has asked for an explanation, I am offering one. As is my style, I suppose.

My concept of suburbia says that it does not matter where you dwell - the outskirts of the city limit, as I do, or the neighborhoods popping up in the fields of the rural areas. What makes suburbia suburbia is the lifestyle. The Style of Your Life.

I am middle class. My husband works and I stay home. I have 3 kids and 2 dogs. I drive a mini-van. My kids ride their bikes around the neighborhood. They can walk to school. Our neighbors are helpful and friendly - baking brownies when you move in and keeping an eye on your house when you are away. We have backyard BBQ's, block parties, Christmas parties, pig roasts, Welcome or Goodbye parties - basically any excuse to get together. We have a community swimming pool (not really - but a friend that shares) and a neighborhood garage sale. I sometimes covet what my neighbors have - like affording piano lessons and mini-vans with automatic doors. My kids have more than their fair share of bright colored plastic. Both my husband and I attend parent conferences and help kids with homework. I shop at Target, the mall, World Market (in other words I shop in the suburbs). I never use public transportation. I have walked to the store only a few times in the last 11 years.

I love the neighborhood that I live in. I call it Leave It To Beaver Land. I think it is a great place for kids to grow up and it fits my values well. I find that it draws people that have the same values as me. Older houses with character. Sidewalks. Diverse schools. Different faiths. Liberals. I am not knocking my piece of suburban heaven. I guess I am just calling it what I believe it to be. I'm not asking KARK to call it suburbia - if he did I wouldn't have another button to push.

Whatever, Same Difference!

Same Difference. Remember that saying? "Whatever, same difference". It is such a strange thing to say. The actual meaning is: the difference between the two things is not important.

Sometimes I think that we get so caught up in our little differences. They don't always seem so little - I know. But they are. What is life about? Why are we here? Those are the big things - the important things -that most of us would agree on, I think. The other things are our same differences. The little things. Our labels.

Christian or Buddhist? Same difference. It's how you treat others that matters. Kindness.

Breast or Bottle? Same difference. It's giving your child a nutritious start. Love.

Stay at Home or Work? Same difference. It's being the best parent that you can be. Balance.

Go Out or Stay In? Same difference. It's about giving yourself the experiences in life that you desire. Living.

City or Nature? Same difference. It's where you feel most alive that you gravitate. Pleasure.

Climb the Ladder or Go Out on a Limb? Same difference. It's about doing what you love. Both have risks. Success.

Best Friend or Social Butterfly? Same difference. It's about finding people that you enjoy spending time with. Laughter.

Point is we need not get caught up on the little things that make us different. Let's focus on what makes us the same. We all want the right to experience Kindness, Love, Balance, Life, Pleasure, Success, Laughter. The joys of life. I am not saying that my idealistic view means someday we should all agree on the details that make life joyful. I am saying that what makes life good for me does not necessarily make it good for another and that is Awesome! I can appreciate that we are all trying to find our way towards Joy.

Look at this list of some things that make my life good. Do we have similarities? How exciting! Do we have differences? How intriguing! Can we be friends?

Nature - yes even leeches, ticks and mucky sand. I LOVE it!
God - My energy Source.
My husband - Loves Me despite OUR same differences... can't ask for anything more.
My kids - Three. All breast fed until I couldn't handle being so attached.
My family
My friends
Being able to stay home with the kids (mostly)
Sending my kids to public schools with diversity - white kids, black kids, Hispanic kids, rich kids, poor kids, angry kids, happy kids, loud kids, quiet kids, good readers, poor readers... DIVERSITY! :)
Having my own diverse friends and acquaintances
All-day Kindergarten - Thank God! And I would Love Year Round School Too!
My dogs - one big, one little
Internet - one of my very best friends
Lipstick - makeup I never go without
Breaks from my kids - Yay!
Trips with friends - Magical!
Girls Night Out - Beyond Words! Keeps me Sane!
Drinks - Sit Back and Relax
Coffee - Wake Up and Get Going
Sugar - Addiction
Books - Fiction and Non. Vampires and God.
Movies - Sometimes to cry. Or Laugh. Or Feel Like a Superhero.
TV Shows
My Sense of Humor - I Love Laughing At Myself
Not Worrying
Watching My Kids Take Risks - be Adventurous. Climb. Fall. Get back up.
Organic Food When I Can - I feel healthier. My bank account get's lighter even if I don't.
Music - LOVE how it changes my mood. Sexy. Sad. Happy. Rockin'. Mellow.
Autumn - God's Gift
Choice - We all Deserve Choices.
Freedom
Money - It Makes Me Happy to Have Some
White Christmas
Thanksgiving - so I can say thanks for all of the above!
Passion - Reasons Are XXX.

If we are the same, I love you. If we differ, I love you. Same difference - I love you.

S'mores and Coors!

I LOVE camping. I love the nature. I love sleeping in a tent. I love making a camp fire and watching the flames dance. I love hiking or biking the trails. It's all fun to me. All of it. I grew up peeing in the woods and finding a leaf to wipe with. Seriously.

My parents actually met and fell in love while camping in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. They did some naughty things during those few fleeting moments they had together in Jackson Hole. I know this because my dad was keeping a journal at the time. My dad had come from his home in California on a cross-country road trip with a friend, a dog, a truck and his guitar. My mom was on a camping trip specifically to Jackson Hole with friends. The dog introduced them by wandering into mom's campground. They had a good time. Dad came to Michigan on his road trip and never left. That was July, they were married in December. I don't know if that is part of why I love camping, but it's my favorite camping love story, anyway.

My parents got kicked out of a campground when we were little. With LITTLE KIDS they still got kicked out. I think it was for singing campground songs and drinking beer?? Uh, doesn't that go hand in hand with camping? They must have been naughtier than they let on... no journal to read about that trip.

Kevin and I did a lot of camping and outdoor adventures when we were together at MSU. More than we do now. I am so happy I married a man that likes to camp and be outdoors. When we introduced babies into our world we stopped camping as much. We camped once a year at Wheatland, and a few times out at my parents (in town). But I can't tell you how long it has been since we have GONE CAMPING.

Tomorrow we leave for a camping trip. We are visiting friends that have a cabin and we are staying in a campground. On hand: tent, sleeping bags, warm clothes, swimsuits, s'mores fixins and beer. Too bad I haven't learned to play guitar yet! We'll still sing....

What It Takes to Be a Hippie

My friend C stopped by with her girls during their bike ride today. It was great to see them. The girls are so sweet. The older is eight and she informed me today that her mom is a hippie. (C was on the phone so I don't think she could confirm or deny the charges at the time).

Me: Oh, really?
Girl: Yes, do you know what makes a person a hippie?
Me: No, not exactly. Tell me.
Girl: Well, first you have to like the Banjo (her mom plays a little). Second, you have to like Wheatland (as many of us do). Third, you have to have a car with a lot of room (uh, this is Minivan, USA!)
Me: Well, I think you are right then. Your mom qualifies!

C is off the phone and says she doesn't think she is a hippie. Together, we all come up with a few more G-rated hippie qualifiers. One attainable qualifier was mentioned - underarm hair. Evidently, according to the girls, we have plenty of time to grow it out for Wheatland. And our leg hair. And our toe hair. All of the girls are laughing at the idea of our toes hairy, our legs hairy and our underarms! Ewwwww! C and I mention out-loud that hippies sometimes do other hippie things, but leave it at that.

I wouldn't call my friend a hippie. She is progressive. And natural. And organic. And she is convinced that she would have to own a VW Van, not just a car with a lot of room. So, she's not a hippie. Case solved.

What makes a person a hippie today? Any ideas? Still free love and long hair and mind altering substances? Is it music? Certain instruments? The VW Van? Not wearing a bra? Tie Dye? Dreadlocks? I would love to know what you think.

After today I can take myself off the hippie list, for sure. The closest I get to hippie is at Wheatland when I don't shower for three days, stand in line to tie-dye something that I will never wear, find myself toe tapping to the banjo and the fiddle, & dancing like I don't have a care in the world. I also feel the love and peace at Wheatland. So, for one weekend I am a suburban, people lovin' hippie!

Peace & Love

Traits of My Men

I can't believe I am falling in love with Edward Cullen. He's a vampire. A fictional character. I am not really falling in love with him - just fantasizing. What would it be like to have a man put himself between you and any potential harm every time, and KNOW that he could win? Or be kissed passionately despite the fact that doing so made him want to drink your blood (and therefore kill you)? Or the exhiliration you would feel riding on his back while he races through the woods - carrying you like you weigh nothing? Is it just me?

It's not the author's writing style. Or the lure of vampire stories - though that adds to the 'forbidden love' feeling. It's just the all-consuming, passionate love story. We are never too old for a good love story. But, admittedly, I feel a little too old to be this smitten....

I guess I can add 'nice vegetarian vampires' to my list of fantasy men. The list that started in 2nd grade with Peter Pan and grew to include Brad Pitt, Jesus and now Vegetarian Vampires.

Before any of you go worrying about my poor husband you need to know something. My fantasies are based in my attraction to the spirit of a person.

Peter Pan did his own thing by not growing up, yet caring enough for Wendy to consider leaving Neverland. And Brad Pitt, well that attraction really came from his character in Legends of The Fall. His long hair and rebellious ways -but when he fell in love he fell hard. And Jesus - again the long hair - and the good heart, but a revolutionary. They all have supernatural powers, too, which adds the spiritual element of life that I am so fond of.

Well, I married a guy that had long hair when I met him, he is kind and gentle, but also doesn't put up with my crap, and is more rebellious (mostly adventurous) than I am in many ways. I think these stories remind me that I married a man with the qualities that I am, and always have been, attracted to.
(Kevin and I in 1994)

It's My Scandalicious Genes!

I am pulling a blogging no-no. Two posts on one day within minutes of each other. I am doing this for a few reasons:

• I might forget the story if I don't share, my short term memory is like that of a bird that keeps flying into the same window to say 'hi' to it's twin.
• It should be a short story.
• My mom is so funny, she deserves a whole post devoted to her.

So, today I was driving home from work and decided I had better call my mom to see what state my house was in. I was having certain dinner guests and they hadn't seen our house yet. Long story. It was spotless when I left it in the hands of my three kids and their wonderful sitter. I feared that during the day the kids would tear it apart, as happens most days. I felt the task of keeping the house clean too great a task for my sitter, as it is for me everyday. So, I called in reinforcements - my mom - to come check on the house towards the end of the day. So, I am driving home and I want to know the state of the house before I get there so I can mentally prepare.

Dial Mom's cell: ring ring ring ring.....

Mom: "Hello?" (giggle)

Me: "Hi Mom"

Mom: "Oh, Katie. God." (noise in the background)

Me: "What's wrong? Where are you?"

Mom: "I'm at BlahBlah Bistro. My cell phone was like a VIBRATOR! I am having dinner with NiceProper Lady and all of the sudden something started vibrating. I couldn't figure out what it was. It was my cell phone ringing on vibrate." (all said in a normal or above average speaking voice)

Me: "Uh, okay Mom. Hey I was just wondering if the house looked good when you stopped by."

Mom: "Oh, yes. The house looks great. They didn't need my help at all."....

I must tell you, I admire my mom's agility. She can go from saying vibrator to talking about vacuum's without flinching. Her friends know this about her. We, her children, know this. Soon her grandkid's will understand this. On we shall pass our genetic predisposition to talk about uncomely things in our honest and witty ways.

Oh, my dear children, I pass on a great legacy.

I'm Just a Girl in the World

So, I know I am onto something when my husband finds my blog so funny and intriguing that he looks at me as if I have changed from 'mom of three' to the 17 year old hottie I was when he met me . Kevin has taken to my blog like a teenage boy to Playboy. I could be sitting next to him in sweatpants, a oversized t-shirt, with a toothpaste 'stache and he'd still ....well, anyway. He can't seem to wrap his brain around the fact that I, the mother of his children, can be scandaliciously funny. He reads and his eyes widen, "Oh my gosh. You said 'Some Like it Dirty'! You are funny, babe".

I had posted the first two stories before I first mentioned my blog to him. I started with the name only, mostly because he seemed less than interested in actually reading it. "Scandalicious Suburbia" I said. He looked at me like I was crazy. Crazy good or crazy bad, I did not know.

"That's Hot" he said.
HUH?
"Did you think of that name?"
Uh, yeah I did, but after I thought of it, I realized that I didn't invent it. Pretty funny isn't it. It's like it's delicious to be yourself... that's where I ....

He cut me off with his "I want you" eyes. I was confused. I won't go into all of the details why he thinks it's hot. I don't understand the male brain enough to be okay with sharing where his mind jumped to. Afterall, maybe he's wierd or something. Maybe I am naive. That's all I am saying.

The title was enough for him to take interest in reading. Now he's hooked. Blogging is GREAT!, my favorite person in the world is my biggest fan and I am having fun.

He was my biggest fan until today, that is. I guess when Kevin is proud of me he does what any loving husband would do and he shares his pride in me with his peeps. Fine with me (even though his friends are probably sick of hearing what I am up to now, as it changes all of the time - another blog topic). Today I received a friend request on facebook from a woman I didn't know. I was at work and I couldn't get on facebook to try to figure out who she was. A few hours later I receive a facebook message in my email inbox from same woman. Here is a portion of the letter (which I hope she doesn't mind me sharing):

Katie,

Let me introduce myself: HI, my name is Jane Doe and I work with your hubby...He thought i would enjoy your blogging so he told me about Scandalicious Suburbia...AND I AM SO GLAD HE DID!!!!

(((((Insert: about four more lovely, positive, sweet sentences here))))

Again...I am pretty sure you are the coolest woman in Michigan!

Hope to chat with you,
Jane Doe

In the past week I have had a few committed commenters (thanks gals!) and others that have mentioned that they liked the blog. Of course, no lying, the positive feedback feels good. I feel the love, people. I do. But, I am well aware that there are many out there that won't agree with my view of the world. I may eventually get hate mail. Or my worst nightmare is that I hurt a loved one unintentionally with my stories. But people, you MUST KNOW THAT I AM WELL AWARE THAT: I am just a girl in the world. I can be serious, too. And quiet. And shy. I'm a mom of three that sometimes raises her voice. I swear, often in front of my kids. I complain about my job. I can get blue in the winter. I didn't talk to my mother-in-law for over a year. I don't always follow through on things. I have belly fat.

I want to tell you, Kevin, and Jane, and everyone that reads this blog.... I am just me, trying to live the fullest, happiest, funniest life possible. Being true to myself, and my desire to be real with you, has brought me pieces of that life. Big Lovely Pieces of a Full, Happy, Funny Life.

I am overly content with the fact that my husband is my fan, and he could have been the only one. It is humbling, and a bit hilarious, to have received the letter from Jane today. And to her I say, YOU are the coolest woman in Michigan! And while I think nervously about making them proud and continuing the fun, witty, scandalicious posts; I really want, more than anything, to be proud of myself.

So, I continue my blogging with much thanks to all of you for loving me.

What's So Golden About the Golden Rule?

The Golden Rule receives a lot of attention. Parents and teachers use it to teach kids how to behave. Ministers use it to preach kindness. It is a celebrity rule among the millions of rules. We all know it. I have a love/fear relationship with it. I'll tell you why.

If you think The Golden Rule (treat others as you wish to be treated) means to always treat others nicely, with respect, with kindness, & with love at all times, then you might share the same unsettling feeling I often have. This feeling is the "I don't want to, but I guess I have to" feeling.

Your neighbor wants to bust down your door and give you the latest gossip - you might think The Golden Rule would say "don't be rude, just let her in". But your head is saying "No, I am tired and cranky and I want to be alone." The Golden Rule wins and you answer the door tired and cranky; your neighbor can tell and takes it personally. OR If someone consistently snubs you, belittles you, or gives you the cold shoulder - you may begin to be extra nice in hopes of changing their mind about you. Using the Golden Rule on them doesn't change them and you eventually become sad and resentful. Your resentment becomes the elephant in the room - you aren't being honest and you are not communicating.

The Golden Rule always works. Always. However, it often works against us until we recognize that we are not responsible for other people's happiness and they are not responsible for ours.

The flip side of The Golden Rule is this:

If you want to be honest with others, let them be honest with you.

If you want your friend to respect you, respect yourself and respect your friend.

If you want someone to communicate with you, try communicating that to them.

If you want time and space to put yourself first, allow others the time and space to put themselves first.

If you give what is easy for you to give, allow others to give what is easy for them to give.

If you want others to be nice all of the time, well, your screwed. "Nice" is subjective. Unless you can be nice all of the time, don't ask others to be.

The Golden Rule is not only about being nice, you see. It's about allowing. I see it as "Allow others to be who they are as you hope others will allow you to be who you are." The next step, and the part that really makes it Golden, is this: you allow without expectation. You can hope that others will allow you to be who you are, but you won't demand it. You will still BE WHO YOU ARE, but if others can't accept it, that isn't your problem. And without resentment, you can still give that to them. That my friends, is how the Golden Rule got it's name.

If you have time, I highly recommend this video from Byron Katie. The young girl oozes nice and kind. Watch how the Golden Rule can be flipped around on her. Applying this to my life consistently is my goal.