Mom looks

We are one short in our office right now.
It makes for interesting dialogue.  The filters are not always on like they should be.  Blame it on the fact we that much busier, but when talking with a student being bull headed or not thinking, the mother in me comes out.
Any of my own personal children could tell the student standing in front of me what he/she should expect the minute certain words come out or when a particular look floats across their faces.  My son would probably say "RUN!!".
The girls would look at each other and say "Shit, this is gonna be fun!".
Damn, my girls are like me.
Anyway, this brings me to an incident.  No names, no particular inference to a student other than to say as a typical teenager, said student is somewhat rebelling against the parental figures and unwise choices abound. 
Said student proclaimed illness. 
Parents said no.
Said student was not pleased.
I mentioned the obvious fact there was no illness.
Student said that should not matter.
The mom look was applied.
Student went back to class and was just fine.

I rest my case.

Cupckaes

In years past, on New Year's Eve, George and I sit down to talk about the past year and make goals for the new.  Goals that can be achieved together and on our own.  These are not resolutions.  Resolutions get broken.  No, they are goals.  If not achieved this year, then maybe next.
George focused on writing.  Something he does very well.  He wants another book published.  In that George is not exactly young, he would really like to get this accomplished fairly soon.
I focused on food.  I love to cook.  Rather obsessed with it really.   I enjoy cooking for others and have begun catering on a semi-regular basis.  People like what I do and seem to be just fine with paying me for it.  A nice perk to doing something I so enjoy. 
So, when a client asks me if I can do something, the answer is "Sure, I can do that". 
I really have to stop doing that. 
I cannot begin to count the number of times I have said that only to come away and say "Shit!  What was I thinking?  I can't do that!  I have never done that!  I am going to die!"
Last night was one of those times.  I had mentioned to a coworker an idea for cupcakes associated with the theme for a major field day at our school.  Found the idea of making these splendid little cakes online from a contest sponsored by the Detroit Press for the Hunger Games preview.
Kristy said she would help.  Without thinking, I said "Sure, I can do that." 
Kristy baked 10 dozen cupcakes.  I baked 10 dozen cupcakes. 
Kristy brought 10 dozen cupcakes to my house.  That put 20 dozen cupcakes in my house.
Let me do the math for you.  That is 240 cupcakes!  In my house!!  
Have I ever mentioned I have a really tiny house?
Any way, Kristy brought the sweets over and left them.  She does not decorate.  She bakes very well but does not decorate.
It took an hour to get all the peanut butter butter cream made.
Then the seige began.
The first couple looked ok.  Then the zen state was entered.  These suckers were to somewhat resemble beehives with cracker jacks on top.  Caramel syrup (looks a little like honey - read the book to get the references) was drizzled.  2 1/2 hours later, the cakes were done. 
In addition to herding a 3 1/2 year old grandson. 
And constantly stepping over to corgis thinking a cake might fall.  It was so theirs if it did.
They looked pretty damn good.
240 cupcakes.
Sure, I can do that.

Guilt by Association

The sirens the other day did not end up with a phone call to our house.  The one chick still out, checked in and assured the mother hen she was not being life watched anywhere.
I was then told that perhaps I should worry less.  That my imagination seemed to run away with me and was going to end up giving me ulcers, etc.
Did I mention the guilt I was going to apply?
Growing up, guilt was implied from the get go.  Mother was,  hmmm, different some days.  That really doesn't sound nice and I do not wish to be mean or nasty.  Always knew I was loved.  Always.  It is just some days were not easy for mom.  The wear and tear just overwhelmed her.  Hell, just grandmother could do that.  She was one mean and crazy woman. 
Anyway, on those days when life was difficult, problems that seemed almost insurmountable to mother were passed on to those around her.  Their fault and they needed to find the solution.  Pronto.
At the time, I thought it was not a great life to have to deal with a mom who was, as we call now, bipolar.  That no one else understood.  That my life was woefull and bleak. 
Those teenage years can be a bitch!
Looking back, I now realize what I had taught me what I need to know today.  My family knew to watch mom.  To look for the signs a manic phase might be approaching which would also foretell the dark hole to follow.  Sometimes, we could help make the darkness not so bad.  Sometimes it meant we learned to ride the hardness out. 
Mom, in her way, taught me how to live today. While I do tend to obsess about what could happen from any side, I can help prepare for what is coming.  Making some hard decisions and situations at least a little better. 
I told the chick accusing me of worrying to much she should consider herself lucky to have an obsessive mom.  She will thank me when she is 50.

Sirens

It is 4:00 in the morning and I am wide awake.  We live in a small town with a volunteer fire department.  They are summoned to a job through a siren system.  A very good system.  Really.
Except when you are a mom with a really strong tendency to worry. 
One of the daughters was not home.  I would not have know this and would have slept blissfully on in my ignorance had it not been the sirens going off at 3:21. 
Sirens wake me.  As they should. 
Anyway, there were no texts or missed calls.
I went and stood out on the front porch to listen for trucks and ambulances leaving the town to see which way they went.  I resisted the urge to jump in my car and go look.  I did not want to be one of the scanner people and why would I want to come up on accident that could possibly involve someone I know.
I will admit to searching for scanner info on google. 
Surprising at what you can't find when you want it.  You can find out about tours through the Amazon but not local information.  I will find it tomorrow.  When I want Amazonian tours to be provided online at no expense.
So. The coffee is on, the dishes are washed.  Facebook has been checked as have world news sites and Sunday's dinner menu planned. 
And it is only a little before 5 in the morning.
I think I will be doing the motherly thing later in the day and lay on a huge amount of guilt.

Starting again

I have a daughter and grandson moving soon.  That may sound like a natural progression of events and it is.  The problem is my letting go and not directing lives to the way I think they should go.
So, I have to take a step back. 
Well, shit.

Child bearing

Grandson is taking a bath.
Mostly it is because Grandpa and I got tired of listening to him playing 1000 questions.
We have to go through the motions of his saying " I can't do it!" when it comes to taking his pants over his shoes.  He refuses to do it the other way around.  Something does not click in taking the shoes off first. 
So in the bath he goes.  Then there is the washing of the body.  Ash feels the need to talk about body parts and why some have them and others do not.  More than grandma wants to deal with. 
We have all had a turn with bathing Ash.  No one is spared.  Water is splashed, no lotions or body wash is safe.  Dogs are targets.  Peeing from the tub into the toilet is an Olympic event.
George and I look at one another and ask did we not already do this?
There is a reason why younger people have the kids.
Sigh.

New Year

Resolutions are made and broken.  At least that has always been the case with me. 
I refuse to make them this year.  Don't want to let myself down.
Anyway, what I intend to do is let out what has been inside.  In a creative manner.
A friend posted he was the best artist of 2012.  Maybe he is. 
I do know there is something inside of me that needs feeding creatively.  Sure I cook.  Very well thank you.  But I need more.  Maybe this blog will be it. 
No one really reads it.  So maybe the feelings and needs can be met here in a slightly anonymous way. 
We will see.

Sick

I hate being sick. 
And with divertiulosis, I get sick every now and then.  Maybe once a year. 
I thought I was catching it early.  I thought wrong.  No hospital, but I have to admit the idea had a great deal of merit last night.  I seem to be one of those that think "If I can hang on just a little longer it will get better".  And it seems to have done that.  Now, rather than being at 30%, I think I can boast being at 50%. 
Big whoop.
TV holds no interest.  The computer is something I can look at only so long.
And I get bitchy and whiney.  I have to pry myself off the pity pot with thoughts like "Other people are worse off than you" or "At least you don't have ... (fill in the blank)".

I take baths.  Somehow the water takes away the nausea and most of the headache.  Helps diminish the pain.  George comes in and looks at me.  He gets worried.  Not sure if it is the amount of water being used or the fact I am sick and silent.

Sigh.

Time for a bath.

Kitchens

We are painting our kitchen.  Tile backsplash going up and a new counter top at some point.  Maybe even flooring.  Doing this brings out some insecurities believe it or not.  Not in my cooking but in my view of what looks good.  George wants to use what we have on hand.  That is good and it is certainly cheaper.  But it does not necessarily go with what I had in mind.  That is where the insecurity comes in.  Do I settle and go for what is immediate and cheap?  Do I push for what I want and not know exactly what it will look like when all is said and done?
Right now we have yellow/gold paint.  Something I can live with.  A green cabinet (my choice).  But the steps after that? 
Still under discussion.

Fourth of July

I think I had my July 4th one day earlier this year. 
It wasn't the fireworks display.  Although it was pretty good.  Held a day early so everyone in this town could attend and tonight then go one town over tomorrow night to see yet another display.  Works to everyone's advantage that way.
It wasn't grilling outside.  We did that last night.  Will do it again tomorrow night (actual day).
It was the meal we had at lunch.
Let me give a little background.  George preached at another church this morning. Happened to be a UCC in a small town 20 miles away.  He gets called now and again to preach in UCCs.  Their social views and his match pretty well and the man can talk.  Quite well and the congregation gets a good sermon and good message.  Anyway, we were invited out to lunch afterwards.  To the Convenient Store.  Not the convenience store.  Note the spelling.  The C-O-N-V-E-N-I-E-N-T Store.  They have kind of a combination diner/gas station/ fill yer pop/ get your oil type service going on.  Seems to be the place to be on Sundays after church.  George was even warned if his sermon went past 11:30 there was the possibility of people leaving so they could get a table for the Sunday special. 
Really.  He was told that could happen.
Anyway, today's special was chicken fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy (gravy was mentioned on the white board), a vegetable bread and a dessert.  Seriously.  What could be more USA then that?  Chicken made to look like beef and fried.  Taters and white gravy, canned green beens, store bought bread and mini cream puffs (the kind you find at Chinese buffet dessert bars). 
Everybody was there.  It was  THE place to be!  The chatter over who had what going on for the holiday....  The new preacher did a nice job....  They are a different looking couple, but seem nice.... Getting the old grill out tonight....  Where did you say that fireworks show was going to be????
And it struck me how very country and really wonderful it all was.  No pretense.  It just was.
The husband of the couple talking and just dropping into the conversation he had cancer and how others had pitched in to help with harvest when he wasn't feeling top notch.  The potatoes were especially good and did we know the center of the state was just down the road in someone's front yard.  Big stone marker.  Another one just across the road denoting an old school too.  Do you think it is going to rain?  Boy, we sure could use it.  I always like green beans.  Just can't get enough of them.  Talk of the difference between the oil field and farmers from way back when.  His family always in farming and ranching. Always. 
Mine in oilfield, bootlegging and sales. 
Never the two shall meet and yet today it did not matter.
The salt and pepper sat on all the tables and it was expected to be used.  Can't get the gravy just the way every one person likes it. 
All over chicken fried chicken at the Convenient Store. 
Happy 4th of July, one day early.

Just Because I am the Mom....

It is 11:00 on a Saturday night.  I am waiting to hear from a daughter that will not be home tonight.  She is off visiting with family she did not know about until recently.  And therein lies the problem.  Until recently we were mom and dad.  She was our daughter.  We raised her during very turbulent teen years.  Then she was gone for a long time.  We heard from others how she was doing.  When there were children.  When there was a divorce.  When moves took place.  All the while, we kept the door open.  Hoping she would come back.  That contact would be made in good time and when she was ready.  George and I knew it would not be easy for her. 
Finally, contact was made.  Through the infamous Facebook, she contacted the girls.  Finally, she contacted me.  She was able to see the love never stopped just because she was gone.  She was still wholly accepted.
It has been good.  George and I met grandchildren and loved them from the start. 
Now comes new family.  Those until a few months ago not known.  New and shiny in her eyes.  Excited to be the center of attention.
I have to step back and be the stable one and wait.  To be there to pick up pieces if need be.  To be understanding and loving, ready and compassionate.
There are times when being the adult and the mom can really suck.

Period

On Sunday, it will have been 23 years since I gave birth to our daughter.  We were not married at the time and the situation and timing were less than ideal.  I was a single mom for a while and we all struggled. 
That said, I thnk being a mom then was easier than being a mom today.  When she was little, I was the center of her universe and I was right in my decisions, actions and advice.  Now?  Not so much. 
Then we did not have a huge amount of choice in what we could or could not do.  Now, the choices and actions are no longer mine.
Would I go back?   Nope, nope, nope.  Not for a minute.
Do I despair now?  Nope, nope, nope.  It is differerent.  The hard thing is having to be quiet.  To not offer unsolicited advice. To watch a mistake being made and know the call will come in the middle of the night "Mom?  What do I do?"  And then have to help pick up pieces. Throw into the mix a grandson that is the apple of my eye.
Was I this way at 23?  Probably.  Something that ticks me off even more.
Hell, there are probably days a  almost 50 I am that way.  My folks are probably watching a shaking their heads.
What it comes down to is this.  Twentythree years ago, I looked at my newborn daughter and promised I would do everything needed for her and more.
No regrets.
I love her.  Period.

Foward Ho

In less than a week we venture towards Colorado to meet grandchildren.  A trip George and I are really looking forward to and, so we have been told, are the kids. 
A bit of background.  Eighteen years ago a 13 year old girl came to live with us.  The baggage she brought was pretty immense for an adult let alone a scared and lonely girl.  She stayed with us for 5 /12 years.  We offered to adopt but her choice was no.  That was okay.  George and I stated she was our daughter.  My father had a new granddaughter and children we had by natural means had a sister.  Even though she slipped from our everyday life for a while, Mary was never out of our hearts.  A couple years ago she came back.  Alot had happened in the time she was gone.  4 children, many experiences both good and bad.  But she is back in our lives. 
And now we get to meet her children.  Our grandchildren.
The emotions going through me are overwhelming.  Sometimes to the point I want to just weep.
Imagine.
We love them and have yet to see them.

Just a little slower now.

MyI have been away from blogging for a long time. Just did not feel keenly about the process. Lost a sense of why.
Well, now I am back and focusing for another time.
It is now summer with a month off for recharging.  Painting and gardening.  Traveling a little and mostly making sure I spend time with my husband.  Sounds kind of cheesy doesn't it? 
Let me explain.  My husband is 28 years older than I am.  Our "lifetime" together by the nature of our ages could be much shorter than some.  Means we need to make our time double.
Age has reared it head.  George says better than the alternative. 
Hmmmm.  But it does make one pause, reflect. 
Knees and backs hurt more.  Illness tends to come on more it seems.  Lines are a little deeper.
Yet, when I look across the room and see my husband  enter, my heart still skips a beat.  A smile still comes across.  I don't necessarily see the age.  The man I fell in love with 26 years ago is still there. 
Thanks be to God.

Passing

I went to the funeral of an uncle yesterday. He had been ill for a time and all viewed it as a blessing when he passed. I saw family I had not seen for some time and catching up was pleasant.
My next older sister and her husband also attended. George and I sat with them and this was probably not our wisest choice. You see, Katherine and I are friends, not just sisters. When we get together it is as though we have never been apart and the banter starts. So does the giggling. Funeral giggles, never appropriate. Very obvious.
Throw into the mix that George was asked to say something about my father's family.
I don't think we will be allowed back.

Basketball

We are a house divided. George is KState. Me? I am KU. Nice good liberal place. We have spent the last week watching basketball. Not normal for us, but a lot of fun.
Tonight was no different. All I can say?
KU basketball: Kicking ass, taking names, and being immature little shits all at the same time.

In Protest

There will be a vigil in Great Bend tonight for a murdered 14 year old girl.
She was quite possibly a troubled young girl. She was murdered in a way that no one except a forensics specialitst might be able to determine, but escapes the rest of us at this point.
So there is to be a vigil at Jack Kilby square in the middle of Great Bend, Kansas. There might be a few speakers to proclaim the glory of God and how we should turn to him now.
The event (and that seems to be what it has turned into) has attracted the attention of Fred Phelps and his church of hate. Seems he is going to show up and picket the vigil and spread the word of hate of "fags" and how the world is going to hell and how the girl's murder is yet another punishment from God for loving queers. Just a special time.
Along with Fred will be the Freedom riders and the Patriot guard, in all their flag waving attire and glory. They will be protesting Fred.
This is where my hackles start to rise.
Rather than paying attention to a quacking hate monger, why not turn their backs on him and support the family. Have the riders leave their patriotic attire at home and support the family as common people recognizing the agonizing grief these people are experiencing. Say the prayers for the dead. Say the prayers for the living. Come together in compassion.
Not hate.
Let the girl be in peace now. Help the family achieve some peace. Stating there is a lesson in all this won't help. Hating and protesting against the Fred Phelps of this world will not help either.
Help the family.

It could happen

There was a skit on the original Saturday Night Live which is as funny today as when it first aired. Gilda Radner going off on some tangent and after being confronted by Jane Curtain, her response was "It could happen!".
Something happened in a town nearby. A young girl went missing. Last seen getting in to a vehicle with a young man to attend a party.
It has been 2 days.
Today a body was found. Burnt beyond recognition.
The girl is still missing. Not a huge leap from one fact to another.
I have 2 daughters and a son. It would be comforting to think it would never happen to them.
Very comforting.
But the girl is missing.
There is a body...

It could happen and it scares the hell out of me.

Looking Back

I went to coffee with people I graduated from hig school. There weren't many there but it was nice to see them. Keep in mind, this was the first time I have done something like this. Ever.
I have avoided reunion anything until today. I am not sure what made me finally decide to go. A woman always known to be down to earth and downright funny was to be there. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was being asked by someone the other day if I had great memories of my junior and senior years. She just had a wonderful time during those years. I could not agree with her.
Oh, there were some good times. But to want to relive them or say they were wonderful years? Nope.
So, I went and it was nice. Do I want to make a regular event of it. Hmmmm. I would have to think about it.
I do know what I came away with. I do not want to go back to the teen years. I like the present. I like who I am now.
There is a favorite quote of mine I was reminded of today.
"Education is a wonderful thing, but I prefer wisdom."

Answered

I had a prayer answered today. It did not dawn on me til just a few minutes ago what had happened.
Our oldest has encountered some, hmmm - what should I call them, learning opportunities. Yup, that is what they are, learning opportunities. And when she decides to learn, we all get the opportunity to learn.
Anyway, things are ok, just a bit bumpy.
A few days ago, thinking about her travails, the heat in general, looking at finances, thinking evil thoughts about my oldest's former, working and just fretting in general, I felt pretty despondent.
It was then I offered up a prayer.
God, I need a little help here. I'll be glad to do the work. Just need a little boost from you. No smiting. Nope, not asking for that. Nothing flashy, just not needed. But something to give a little light on life.
Then in conversation this evening, the boost was given. Just a little thing. Nothing flashy.
As I sat here perusing the internet, the conversation replayd itself in my brain and there was the answer.
God, you answered!
Then, in a voice from inside, "About time you noticed."

Thank you.