Sometimes, You've Just Got to Lighten Up

I love William Shatner. He and Alec Baldwin are the two people on this earth who could literally read a chinese take out menu and have me in stiches. The thing that's great about them both is their uncanny ability to make fun of themselves. But they weren't always this way.

Shatner, in particular, used to take himself seriously. VERY seriously. So much so that he became a caricature of himself. If you haven't seen his 1978 "performance" of Elton John's Rocketman, you are in for a treat. Now, you can challenge me on the fact that his "interpretation" of the song was tongue in cheek - that he wasn't serious - but I will go to my grave saying otherwise. Just see :20 and 2:09.

Too many times in my parenting life, I ,like Shatner, have taken myself far too seriously. I have allowed small things to irritate me and big things to go unsaid because of pride. The older I get, the more I'm able to relax a little and see myself "from outer space" - from a different perspective, as it were.

The truth is, my kids don't need me to be so uptight and serious. In fact, they need me to be less so. Before you "yes, but" my point, let me be clear. I'm not talking about relaxing my rules or loosening the structure in my home. I'm talking about HOW I maintain those things. More often than not, a small dose of humor can go a lot further than a big dose of Rocketman with my kids. It allows me to stay connected to them even when they break a rule or get under my skin. It allows me to realize that they are not the only ones who can make mistakes or get annoying. And keeping my sense of humor allows me to be along side with them as I teach them right from wrong.

The Sauce that Binds

So, Hannah is now 12 and is officially hormonal. There are moments in the day when she is kind and sweet and there are other moments when she is .... um ..... not. I wanted to spend some time alone with her, so I pried her off of the computer and took her to Costco with me.

Ok, I'll admit, it's a lame mother daughter outing. But we can't all do mani/pedi's on a weekly basis, this would have to do. She was in a pissy mood to begin with, but I wasn't going to let that deter me from being with her. So, with our list out and gi-normous shopping cart in hand, we ventured into the chasm of Costco.

I am always amazed at what one can find at these kinds of stores. Pork loins the size of Volkswagons and barrels of caramel corn that you could hide a small child inside lurk around every corner. I had hoped that some of this might snap Hannah out of her huff and back into her old pleasant self, but nothing seemed to be working. I had just about given up when we turned the corner.

We were snipping at each other over something small, despite my best efforts at remaining ScreamFree. I wasn't paying very much attention to where I was going and our cart was veering to the right ever so slightly as I pushed it. Suddenly, our cart slammed into a disply at the end of our aisle. It made an enormous crash and the whole, huge stack of boxes started to sway. It happened in slow motion and as we sat back in anticipation of a crash, we both simultaneously noticed what we had hit.

It was a 10 foot tall stack of boxes plastered with this guy's face on it. Thankfully, the tower of teriyaki did not tumble, but we got plenty of looks anyway as we both fell to the floor laughing.
The ice between us was broken by our friend Mr. Yoshida and to commemorate the event, I bought a gallon of marinade. Now, whenever something small (i.e. hormonal meltdowns) gets in the way of us having fun, I just might whip up a batch of stir fry and lighten up a bit.

Mark My Words...

....Ugs are this generation's parachute pants. I have to give my husband credit for this one. He said it last night as my 12 year old daughter walked away from us with a flip of her hair.

I'm pretty sure he's right. About 75% of the junior high girls at Hannah's school wear these modern day moon boots and they pay a small fortune for them. If you're not familiar with them, they look a bit like what Ringo Starr wore in Caveman. (oh, and yes, that is Dennis Quaid wrestling a dinosaur).

I'm placing a bet with Hannah that in 10 years, she will regret ever owning a pair - in fact, I'm taking lots of pictures so that at her wedding, I have plenty of ammo for embarrassment. I'm hoping that she takes the bet - that way, I can pay back my father for betting me that the bell bottoms of the 70s would ever come back in style. For the last time, dad, my jeans are boot cut - NOT bell bottoms.

What did I do all day?

So, today was a very, very busy day. I worked pretty much non stop at my computer from 7:30 when the kids left for school until 5:00 when I picked them up from their activities. Aside from a couple of eating breaks and more than a few glances at my Facebook friends, I really wore out my computer.

The sad thing? I really couldn't tell you what I accomplished. Don't get me wrong. I worked. I just didn't finish any of my work. No - it's even more than that. The kind of work I'm doing now just isn't finish-able. It is more like fire fighting than anything I've ever done and it drives me crazy.

Hear me loud and clear - I don't miss grading papers, but I do miss finishing a teaching unit and then putting it away. I miss the clean slate feeling at the end of a novel. Now, it's phone calls and rounds of edits. It's the messiness of the venture that is so hard to handle.

Working outside of the ivy laden walls of the school is a double edged sword, that's for sure. I love my freedom and I love the possibilities. But I also hate those things too. They are heavier than I ever imagined and my road has more forks than it does paths.

I suppose that I'm learning how very difficult life is - period. Yes, teaching was an exhausting profession that wore me out. But so is this. I'm guessing that there is no easy path - there are just paths. And the only option is to keep on moving foward.

Calling All Aggies...and Nazis

Ok, so Hal calls me in to the living room this evening to show me something "very important". By the tone of his voice, you'd have thought that he just discovered a long lost relative or the cure to the common cold - which would come in handy since Brandon has a horrible one right now.

So, I drop what I'm doing and rush in, only to find him snickering at this video. At first, I didn't understand what it was and I couldn't figure out why Hal was laughing so hard. I mean, the sight of Adolph Hitler and his top advisors doesn't usually qualify as HIGH-LARIOUS, but once I got the idea, I couldn't help myself.

You have to be a follower of college football to understand, so if you aren't, I apologize. You can now officially delete me off of your favorite blog list and tell all of your friends how strange I am. But if you are - and especially if you are from the Big 12, enjoy...

Chain Gang

I recently got an email from a relative who will remain nameless. I can pretty much guarantee you that he didn't read all the way to the end and I commend him for his intent. BUT... it was a powerpoint email depicting several statues of Jesus. It mentioned his grace and his mercy. It showed him dying on the cross and raising from the dead to bring us all closer to God.

All well and good. Until the end. I kid you not, after all of these glorious pictures and heartwarming messages, it says this:

If you believe in God,
send this to your whole buddy list.
If you don't, then just ignore it.
And remember the words of Jesus who said,
"If you deny me before man, I will deny you before my father."

You must send this to 8 people. In 8 minutes you will receive something you have long awaited.

Wha??????? So, you're telling me that God loves me unconditionally UNLESS I don't send this to 8 people? Then I'm going to rot in hell? Somehow, I don't think Jesus was envisioning cyber chain letters when he uttered those words long ago. And just out of curiosity....why 8 people? What if I only have 7 friends? What if one of the email addresses bounces? What then?

I have an idea. Let's do a little experiment, shall we - just to mess with those people who send around these ridiculous emails. Let's start an anti chain letter chain letter. It can warn people about the dangers of chain letters and caution them against sending them. Then, at the end of it, we'll tell them that if they don't send this anti chain letter chain letter to at least 11 people in 11 minutes, then their eyeballs will spontaneously combust.

Business Time

Well, folks, we officially have a new President in office and I, for one, am glad to have all of the posturing and campaigning in our rearview mirror. Today, as Barack Obama took his oath of office (or at least tried to as Chief Justice Roberts gets a little tongue tied), I felt a surge of pride in our country and hope in our new leader. And I felt, like I'm hoping he did, that it's now business time.

And then, out of the blue, my moment of political clarity and acumen left me and I found myself snickering at the memory of another "business time". If you haven't seen this, you must. It has nothing at all to do with politics or world affairs. It is a short video by the Conchords, a New Zealand band who have created quite a cult following through the years.

I'll let this particular video speak for itself, but I do want to call your attention to three key parts that I hope don't resonate with you and your partner:

1. brushing teeth

2. teambuilding exercise shirt

3. business socks

Enjoy - Business Time