You would think, by now, I’d be old enough to know better…

Sometimes, I expect the world to be fair and for other people to observe the golden rule. Just because you put your personal differences aside and do the right thing when it comes to someone else, even if you have to grit your teeth to do it, doesn’t mean that very same person in a remarkably similar reversal, will do the same thing. I should just know that by now, right? Maybe this time I’ve actually learned that. Maybe. Hey, it could happen!

Sometimes not saying anything is better than saying something nasty. (My mother taught me that one.) So when I say nothing and say nothing and count to 100 and say nothing…. when does the goading stop? Does an ulcer signify success? Would taking up kick-boxing help… at all?

My father was the one that always said “Life’s not fair” — and I always argued. But you know what? He was right. Life isn’t fair. And, like parenting, no one gives you a manual. You, me and everyone else, just have to wing it, do what we can and hope for the best.

I laughed when both my parents told me that “parenting adults is harder than parenting children.” I felt the sting of the words aimed at me, while I complained about the messes my tiny children made and how hard it was to have two boys so close together in age and to literally start over again with a girl 10 years after the eldest boy was born. They didn’t understand, I assured myself… they never had THREE kids and they never tried to do it alone. I was wrong. They were right. ‘Nuff said.

So here I sit… trying to figure out how to learn to “let go” of the things I can’t do anything about and there I go… searching under every un-turned rock to find the wisdom to know the difference. Here I am, waiting for a miracle, a revelation, a tiny sliver of insight so I can figure out what my role is and if, indeed, I still have one in so many situations that find me lately.

In the meantime, while I impatiently await enlightenment, maybe I can be mature enough to quit worrying about everyone else and give myself permission to just take care of me and the one child I have left who is still under legal age.

Maybe now is the time to quit wringing my hands about all the things I failed to do perfectly, and start enjoying life a little more. Maybe today is the day I finally reach a comfortable level of maturity and realize that being a little more selfish isn’t necessarily a bad thing… maybe it’s a bit more like self-preservation. Maybe that’s what it really means to be mature. Maybe.

To say I’m pleased with the election results would be a lie.

I’m deeply concerned about this country, probably more so than I have ever been in any given election. I get the feeling that many people voted the way they did because they saw it as a way to shirk their responsibilities.

The thing that keeps coming to mind is the lady who, at the celebratory victory rally, said that she was glad she no longer had to worry about her mortgage or her car payment.

I’m assuming she intends to KEEP both of these items, she just doesn’t want to pay for them anymore. So, by default (isn’t that a great pun?!?) those of us who are responsible and DO pay our bills will get to pay hers as well? Maybe our children and grandchildren can kick in to support (with interest) the quality of life to which she has become accustomed, but no longer desires to afford?

It reminds me of the time when I was in a grocery line with my mother in Danville, Kentucky. The lady in front of us was wearing diamond rings and an “Aigner” coat (which was all the rage at that time), a matching purse and shoes.

These were things that we couldn’t justify (my mother has always been so practical — thank goodness!). When she tried to check out the dog food with her food stamps, she was told that it wasn’t permitted. Her response? She said her dog preferred hamburger anyway — and promptly left the line, went to the meat department, got a 10 pound roll of ground beef and returned to be checked out — while we all stood in awe, mouths agape.

I think that was a pivotal moment in my development. I was probably 12 or 13. It has colored my glasses about welfare programs and these glasses aren’t rosy. I feel that what we have here, is an even bigger version of the same mentality. Put simply, it makes me angry.

When are people going to be responsible and quit expecting the government to parent them?

Some of the propositions that passed also alarm me. I really don’t believe it’s the government’s job to dictate morality, define “family” and determine what is ok in our bedrooms. Apparently, that puts me squarely in the minority these days, too.

Most of my clients and friends are fiscally and politically conservative (with a few notable exceptions). One of my friends commented today, “Welcome to the USSA.” I have to wonder if he’s right.

On another note, the “Civilian National Security Force” scares the crap out of me. It simply does.

So, I’m sitting quietly here in my home office, wondering why I’ve spent my life paying my bills, meeting my obligations (even when people who supposedly share those obligations don’t do their part to help), trying to stay out of debt and avoiding “welfare” type programs — even during those really hard times in my life when I qualified.

I’ve always believed that freedom mattered more than security. I’ve believed in making your own way and cutting back when times were lean. I’ve always been capable of making the tough decisions. I’ve tried to pass this on to my children (whether or not I did this successfully is yet to be seen.)

I wonder “what’s the use?” when people who didn’t behave responsibly are getting bailouts. Like another one of my friends recently quipped, “Where’s my friggin’ financial bailout?!?”

*Not that I’d want one if it cost me my freedom or my privacy — or made me beholden to someone as a result, mind you*

We aren’t educating our children in our schools anymore, I worry that now all we have to educate them is our example… and if that’s the case, we are probably totally screwed.

I think I’m going to go try to find my old weather-beaten copy of 1984 for a quick re-read. I think it’s time.

I’d like to address this to the lovely woman (and her understandably quiet, seemingly embarrassed husband) who took little screaming Junior to Wild Oats in Lexington, Kentucky on Saturday.

Dear Mother -

No, I did NOT roll my eyes at your child. Had I rolled my eyes at anyone, it would have been at you. My sister tells me that I exude disgust without the need to roll my eyes and that I’m terribly transparent. She’s probably right. My apologies. Obviously, you misconstrued my total disgust with eye-rolling. I’m not sure how that happened.

However, having a child in a public place that screams at that decibel rate and in that particular key (I think it was a high c, although no glass actually shattered), is not ok. Perhaps you have been led to believe otherwise. I can understand that you may have been instructed incorrectly at some young impressionable age, but you are surely old enough to know better by now. If not, you may want to seek professional help.

To yell at me, “There’s no reason to roll your eyes, he’s just excited!” does not eliminate your responsibilities to others (many of whom WERE rolling their eyes, BTW) who must share the public space with your adorable child. Did it not occur to you that it was strange that you had to blurt that well-practiced line so quickly while Junior was taking a breath before screaming again? He nearly cut your mini-speech off with his tireless squeals.

At what point did it become ok for your child (or anyone else) to invade the sanctity of my personal space in such an offensive manner? The old adage about your freedom to swing your fists stopping at the edge of my nose also applies to my ears and your precocious child’s vocal cords.

I would understand if it was a sudden outburst and you scrambled to educate your child on how to be a better, more sensitive individual and a more pleasant member of society. Instead, you opted to condemn those of us who were surprised by your incredulous incapacity to even recognize a problem. Let me tell you a little secret…  just because your child wants to be the center of your attention and your world does not mean that he should automatically be thrust into the spotlight in ours. There, I said it. Believe it.

I realize it’s old fashioned of me. I realize that I’m not “cool” with the new trends toward lenient parenting. I’m an old fogy. That’s ok. I can live with that. I actually like that my own young daughter’s mouth physically dropped open in disbelief as your child expressed himself.

But if you had not been so quick to jump — if you had not had that comment a little too “at the ready” — perhaps you may have noticed the entire fresh produce section stop in their tracks and turn to stare when Junior demanded center stage. He truly is hard to ignore. Bravo for you!

If you want Junior to be the center of attention, you might try for a more subtle approach. Perhaps a talent or a skill. Maybe he will be an amazing adult… but somehow I think he may need a little more guidance than you are obviously willing (or able) to offer.

Do him a favor, do yourself a favor, do the rest of us a favor… discover a better way for him to claim his fame. And, if you can’t control his abuse of other people’s eardrums, leave him at home. In fact, why don’t you stay home with him and properly adore him at close range and in private?

Your husband appeared to be mannerly … maybe he could do the shopping.

note: photo courtesy of morguefile.com, artist: xenia.

The last month has been a time of stretching and growing for me. (Or maybe it’s been a time of feeling incredibly old and I’m just looking for a silver lining.) My youngest son graduated high school and moved to begin his new life in the city, with college and new friends and pursuits. My eldest left his teen years and became a man of 20. My daughter, the baby, is 10 and is stretching for independence. I’m not quite an “empty-nester” but I am experiencing some of that feeling of simultaneous emptiness and freedom.

It’s an interesting time as I look over my life that’s been filled with running a business and raising children over the past couple of decades and I wonder, “What do I do for the NEXT 20 years?” I must admit the options are staggering and I’m spending much of my mental energy exploring them. I’ve determined that quality of life for me means time to call my own, even if that means less money. Thankfully, this is hitting at a time when my expenses are naturally (and intentionally) diminished. I’m whittling away at the last remnants of debt.

Balance is becoming quite real for me after all these years of preaching and I’m applying the 80/20 rule to my business and my life. It makes each action more planned and requires less auto-pilot and more concentration. The benefit? My life is starting to de-stress, my business is becoming more focused and I’m starting to feel a little more in control.

It’s bizarre at this point in my life to realize I can do anything I want to do … as soon as I figure out what that is. Too many options are overwhelming and even having a few of them nailed down doesn’t prevent twinges of scary (and exhilaratingly) stuff from coursing through my veins.

So even at more than twice their age, I’m in step with both of my sons. As they decide what’s next for them — I’m figuring out what’s next for me!

I’m on a rampage. It started in my closet at 3 a.m. (Couldn’t sleep, dunno why.) I have been reading Unclutterer (I find it inspiring most of the time). And I came upon a post about simple clothing. Now, I’ve already “simplified” my clothing a number of times. But something hit me (in the way things can only hit during the wee hours of the morning) and I started tearing into my closet.

With my family size cut in half, I’ve discovered that the extra hangers lurking in my closets are like the extra baggage I’m carrying around in my head. And it’s time to purge physically as well as mentally — which helps with the empty I feel in my heart at the moment.

I decided it’s time to take the next step. So, I started with the closet. I’m just anal enough to like matching hangers, so I’m getting rid of the ones that don’t match. I’m giving them to my mother. She knows how to distribute goods as needed throughout the family. I fuss at my parents for all the excess “stuff” they store and organize and maintain, but the fact is the rest of us (extended family included) go to them for that odd little something we need (from a replacement computer cord to a dress belt for a new skirt). Or maybe for some extra hangers.

So, as I clean things out and minimize my needs and my wants, I wonder if I’m able to do it only because I know they are my safety net. I fuss at them for the stuff they keep. I act all holier-than-thou about my smaller footprint, my smaller amount of “stuff” and my simple life goals. Yes, I give most things to Goodwill, and I’m starting to eBay some of the larger or more expensive pieces that I no longer need or want… but the other stuff, I always offer it to my parents first. Then, I give them crap about all the stuff they keep.

I’m sure there’s some deep psychological something going on here, but for now, I’m headed back to my room to finish my most recent purge. I’m far too busy to think too hard about too much on a holiday Monday.

Cheers!

I’m told (by my father) that this is not the best time to make huge, sweeping decisions. He says I should give it a couple months. He says things will look different as I “settle in” to my new life.

There has been so much change of late, and yesterday my youngest son graduated and left for his apartment in Lexington. I don’t know what possessed me to allow him to leave on the same day he graduated. That was especially stupid of me.

But, he was chomping at the bit, wanting to go, ready to start his life as an adult. He wanted to get a job or two this summer and begin saving up the cash he still needs to meet his bills at the University of Kentucky. He’s a good boy, and I could see the irritation in his eyes as I asked him for the unthinkable… to stay with me a week after he was “free” from high school.

So, I whined inside (as quietly as I could) and gave him his freedom.

Now, I have been surfing the waves of self-pity as the tiny house I inhabit now echoes. With only a 10-year old and a puppy to occupy me, I’m looking long and hard at my life.

The “simplify, simplify” philosophy in me is growing stronger. And I find things like this: http://www.cagefreefamily.com/ both enticing and a form of personal validation for my current purge urge. I don’t know what is enough, but I know right now what I have is too much. WAY too much.

I’ve even decided against the Airstream and have listed it on Facebook’s marketplace. A 24′ long RV to be pulled behind a gas-guzzling truck is too much for just two people. I’ll be putting it on Craigslist this week, and probably on eBay by next week, if it’s not already sold. I had a buyer for it, but he decided to buy an SUV instead. (Don’t ask me, it made NO sense to me, especially after he checked my asking price against the market price and told me how low mine was.) “I was gonna try to talk you down, but then I looked them up and they are mostly much higher.”

Yeah, I knew that. :O)

I still want to travel. I have just been re-evaluating the mode of the transportation. I’ll know more when I purge a bit more. I’ll be able to figure it all out once I let the dust settle and once I sell many of my current belongings and donate the rest. But, right now, I’m thinking a Class C is the direction I need to go. I don’t want to have to “climb out” of my RV in order to trot around and get into the cab of the truck to drive off. Traveling as a single woman means I need additional safety features… like an attached cab.

Right now (and for the years to come) what I want most is time, the health to enjoy that time and less of my energies going into obtaining, caring for and protecting “things.” It sucks the life out of me. Literally.

So, despite the fact that my son didn’t stay with me this week, I’m not going back to work quite yet. I’m going to enjoy this week away from clients and business projects. I’ll be spending it with me. I’ll be spending it with Alex. And we will both be learning to adjust to the changes. I’ll get caught up on sleep (I’ve been creating a debt there for at least three decades), cleaning, organizing and determining where I go from here… now that my children no longer outnumber me. Now that being a “single mom” seems more like just being single.

I’m sure I’ll get used to it… eventually.. but right now, it just feels weird. And sad. And I find myself feeling a little lost.

So, while my son struggles to navigate his new life, I struggle in my own way to navigate mine.

It’s been days since I’ve written. It’s not that there’s nothing interesting… it’s that there is too much!

I’ve been studying pretty hard to determine where the portable applications options are falling these days. I still can’t find a cross-platform option I like, so I’m looking at those options I need to work on Windows machines AND those needed to function on a Linux box.

As these things unfold, and I learn more, I’ll share.

In the meantime, I’ve cleaned off my desk and organized all the drawers (no small feat), completed the revamp of my new Moleskine hack, have a financial system for the business that’s half digital/half paper that’s simply beautiful, and I’m trying to figure out how to deal with the fact that my youngest son will be leaving home in less than three weeks to begin his life solo.

(These days are hard on a mom.)

The havoc that has been my life is finally reorganizing… and my ability to carve out some personal time from all my responsibilities is becoming a reality. The ironic part is that I’ve been crazed since January, and just as I start to get things together and begin to feel human again… Byron is packing his bags to leave.

I hope to be able to take a couple days off work as soon as school is out and spend them knocking around with my son. He’s so busy and I’m so busy that I miss him lately, and soon I’ll miss him even more — and from a distance.

You know, my parents should be given a medal. Other people in my life have to tolerate my moods, my latest kicks and my never-ending jabbering when I’m worried, excited or “all stoked up” about something. My parents endure it — regularly.

I’m all about the getting rid of stuff right now. I’ve renewed the fevor of my disgust with the consumptive, collective hoarding habits of our society in general and with my own tower of possessions, in particular. I mean, really, how much “stuff” does one person need?!?!

So when I get excited about a project, like my current one of eliminating all the clutter and trimming my possessions to a bare minimum, it would be my parents that have to listen to my incessant chatter about it.

I feel for them. My own daughter wears me out with her constant talking, but I can tell her to hush, or send her into the other room when I’m at wit’s end. My parents are nicer than me.

Someday I may learn how to quit talking with that voice in my head says, “For God’s sake, shut up!” In the meantime, I’m thankful for my parents.

Who knows, maybe I’ll learn to be more tolerant of Alex’s jabbering…once she’s in her 40’s. Perhaps, she will be a faster learner than her mother and will be capable of listening to that voice in her head when it says “stop talking,” — but I think her maternal genetics will be working against her. Poor thing.

Grayson arrived three weeks early today. Seen here with his father (and my eldest) Nicholas.

Recent news out of California may threaten all homeschooling parents. The appellate court recently ruled that parents aren’t the appropriate teachers for their own children. Apparently, the court wants a teaching certificate before a parent is allowed to teach. I find this not only unacceptable, but also ironic.

I actually looked into adding a teaching degree to my own education back when I was in college. After talking with the Colledge of Education at the University, I decided against it. It seemed ridiculous to me then (and even more-so now) that a major (or even a minor) was not required to teach a subject.

(more…)

My daughter began homeschooling today. Granted, I was planning to homeschool her next year… beginning in August. I had not planned to do so now… just as I was starting to get my arms around everything else in my life… but reality isn’t always convenient. (more…)

Since last Tuesday, I’ve had no voice. Literally. I was in the middle of a meeting (by phone) with a client at 8 a.m. Tuesday morning when my voice started getting softer and higher pitched until it was completely gone.

It was like a frog jumped in my throat and squatted there, quite comfortable in the new digs, and refused to budge. (more…)

I love my puppy. He’s so cute. Sir Grrr: The puppy formerly known as Wicked Prince Charming (which is what’s on all his papers, but not what I’m currently calling him), gets far too much attention. In a few more days, he will probably simply be “Grrr” like Invader Zim’s dog, (only much smarter of course).

Here’s Sir Grrr in the first basket I used, it’s about the size of a shoe box. He was happy there for a couple days, until he learned to climb out. Then he was even more happy, but I was less happy — so we had to go to a larger basket to contain him.

When he does ANYTHING it’s cute. Barking is cute, growling is adorable — I mean REALLY adorable and possibly on the same deliciousness level as baby laughter. I’m not saying he’s spoiled and I’m really trying not to create a pint-sized monster, but it’s taking concerted effort. (more…)

I fell in love while in Florida. When I returned from my cruise, I decided to bring the little guy home with me. It was probably not the most “stress-free” choice I could make, but he sure is cute, and cuddly and exactly what I wanted/needed right now. (more…)

The cruise was wonderful. It was just what I needed… pure relaxation. On the boat, cruisers are treated like babies… rocked to sleep each night, entertained constantly and fed every three to four hours. The only way to be bored is to choose to be that way. Eating that much (and that often) is nearly an Olympic event… and it’s exhausting. I’m afraid to step on the scale! (more…)

This morning, I woke to a blaring alarm clock. It doesn’t matter that I went to bed uber early last night to try to recover from the cold I caught from the kids (my best friend is calling me “squeaky” this week).

I didn’t wake up on my own.

When I killed the blaring of my iPhone alarm, I heard a siren, overlapped by a car horn, the whirring of traffic and domestic unrest next door. I hate living in a townhouse. I also hate living in the city. (more…)

My son has now been diagnosed with mono to go with the strep he’s just recently had. So now, he’s off school for an additional two weeks. He was off for several days with the earlier diagnosis of strep.

I’m worried about him losing this much time in school. Tomorrow I’ll need to go down to the school and try to set up whatever needs to be done to keep him on track. As a senior, it could impact his graduation if he doesn’t get back to class soon. (more…)

I’m not sure what I need to do to prepare. I have the clothes. I have a suitcase. That’s not the problem. I don’t seem to be able to determine what I’ll do with my time while I’m away. Will I read? Will I sleep to an exceedingly late hour? Will I get seasick and wish I’d stayed at home? Will I get up early, run around all day, participate in events and excursions and fall into bed exhausted late in the evening and get up the next day to do it all over again? (more…)

Byron’s Art Club took a trip to the Cincinnati Art Museum Saturday. Some of the parents went and I took Alex and Brittney along with us just for kicks. It was a wonderful day. The museum was enjoyable and when we returned to town we went to Joseph-Beth Booksellers and enjoyed a Mocha Latte and browsed the stacks. (more…)

Ok, the poem that launched my major in English (alongside Chaucer, Milton, and of course Shakespeare) made it to the big screen in a release tonight that I found quite amazing. The digital animation was simply wonderful and to have it “jumping out” at me in full-color, big screen 3D was quite an experience.

A bit on the gory side and a little less than a completely accurate rendition of the original epic hero poem, it was still a good way to spend a Friday evening. An excellent way, in fact.

I’m sure the standard version was good too, but I don’t think anything can quite beat the 3D effects on this one. Kids loved it, I loved it, and it was nearly sold out — so others were anticipating a good time too.

If you get a chance to check it out… you should!