Back to Mom 101

Can this happen in the real world??

You'd think after three kids and countless mornings getting kids off to school, I would have it down to a science.  Lunches would be prepped and in the fridge, clothes laid out and backpacks loaded and waiting by the door. And I would sail through the morning, dressed and ready, calm and peaceful, planting kisses and offering sage advice on how to ace that vocab test.

Yeah right.

Take this morning for example.

My husband and I are both fighting a cold that won't let go, so the morning started with coughs and grabbing for tissues.  Then he headed out to walk the dog, and I hit the shower for my relaxing, revitalizing four minute shower.  (What would a long shower be like??  I've forgotten.)

After I hack up a lung as soon as the steam hits, I scrub down, decide I can go one more day without washing my hair, then throw on a pair of jeans and a top and head for the kitchen.  On the way, I hear the dryer running, so that means my daughter didn't get her laundry done last night and needs something for today.  I stop to check the dryer, and find that she's thrown a couple of wet things in with the already dry load.

I pull out the now super-dry stuff and find my husband's missing sunglasses bouncing around in there. Dry clothes folded, blazing hot sunglasses on top.  Dryer restarted with only the wet things.

Back to heading for the kitchen.

I hear my daughter moving around between her room and her bathroom, so I know I don't need to go wake her up, and I have visions of putting the water on to make myself a cup of peppermint tea.

My husband returns from the walk, and heads for his own four minute shower.

Hint...this is NOT me!

Then I look at the time, and remember that we didn't get around to cutting up the stuff for lunch last night, so instead of reaching for the tea, I reach for the cutting board and the veggies from the fridge. Lettuce, peppers, carrots, celery, cheese.  Check.  Apple. Check. Water bottle.  Oh heck!  Where is that water bottle?

I ask my husband to empty the dishwasher, so we dance around each other in the kitchen while I finish packing the lunch. 

Call out to my daughter in my scratchy voice.  No answer.  I hear the water running in the bathroom.  Surely she's done by now.  And I hear the printer going. How can both be running at the same time?  I'm afraid to ask.

My daughter runs through the kitchen, still in pajamas, heading for the laundry room. Water bottle found and washed. Daughter runs back through, complaining that my computer wasn't working right and messed up her printing.

Lunch done, veggies put away, cutting board emptied.  The trash smells funky, so I close it up and pull the bag out.  Throw in a load of wash.

Grab my computer because I need to catch up on some work while I'm at the genealogy library this morning. Grab my purse.  Look for keys.  Run back in the bedroom to grab my phone.

Ask my husband to grab the trash bag just in time to hear the door closing behind him. Chase daughter out the door, grab my purse, computer bag and trashbag and shut the door without the dog or the cat getting out.

Throw the trash away (hoping I haven't tossed anything else in the can..like my phone), and open the car door. Get in and realize that I forgot to take my cold medicine and vitamins, and never got around to putting on makeup.

Our van is on the fritz right now, so we have to all go to drop our daughter at school (who's mad that I told her she had to take the bus home, and oh, by the way, she forgot to wash her tights for ballet), then head to my husband's work to drop him off. 

Finally get to the genealogy library only 5 minutes late. No makeup.  No peppermint tea.  No energy.   I pray for a "Closed" sign on the library.  No luck. 

But also, no patrons.  So I can do some work..  But first, I need to blog.  No really, I NEED to blog.

And so it is.  Three kids. And I am still at Mom 101 on a morning like this.

What do Annie's Food and School Gardens Have in Common?

A few minutes ago, my answer would have been "Nothing."  Well actually it would have been more like, "What? Annie who?"   Until someone reminded me that Annie's Foods was the company behind all of those colorful boxes of organic macaroni and cheese my kids love..the ones with the bunnies on them.  Then my answer would have been more of a "Ummm..." as I tried to sound thoughtful and avoid saying "Nothing."

Either way, I would have been wrong.  Because just now, while Cat and I were sitting outside at Whole Foods, eating Annie's Spinach and Mushroom Pizza, enjoying the breezy 70 degrees and the sound of blues music playing somewhere nearby, I got into a conversation with Christina McCalla. She's a brand manager for Annie's and told me about a cool program the company had that helped schools start student gardens, by providing funds for seeds, supplies and other gardening needs.

In these days when so many kids have never eaten food just picked from a farm or garden, and most have never planted anything, school gardens are a great idea.  And now the company is starting a "Win a Garden" program for schools starting in April.

Way to go Annie's!


And there's another plus today...our Annie's Pizza (their newest line of healthy, easy foods) and all the fixings are thanks to an invitation from LiveMom...a perk of being of MommyBlogger here in Austin :-) So not only did we get supper, we got to learn that one of our favorite "mom's-too-tired-to-cook-from-scratch" healthy meals is doing something to make the world a little better, one school garden at a time.

TX M.I.L.K. Mom's Rock at SXSW

After the noise and craziness of SXSW, it was a wonderful experience to attend the TX M.I.L.K. (Texas Mom's I'd Like to Meet) event at Happy Salon and Spa.

Instead of the hectic energy and downtown venues of the rest of SXSW, this outdoor event felt like a gathering at a friend's home.  Several bands played, including Charlie Belle and Karen Chisholm, while moms and kids (and a few dads) enjoyed samples of Tiny Pies and Better Bites cupcakes, all washed down with ice cold drinks from the huge coolers.  It was cool and breezy, as we sat around pretty tables, or wandered around looking at the wares from vendors chosen to appeal to the mommy-set. 

What a difference in mood from the rest of SXSW.  Great music, bubbles and the sounds of kids filled the air. This was an event just for us moms!  Married moms, single moms, moms of babies and moms of teens.  Just moms. Now how cool is that?

Thanks TX M.I.L.K. Happy Salon and all the sponsors.  This was a wonderful end to my first SXSW!

Mr. Rogers Gives Me Chills

A few minutes ago at the PBS Kids presentation at SXSW, they played a clip from Mr. Rogers, probably recorded a short time before he passed.  In it he thanked all of us who grew up watching him for being his friends and knowing that he liked us just the way we were

And I got chills.  Not bad, scary chills.  Instead it was a warm, touching chill -- his show was for so many kids, a special moment in the day when make-believe and imagination were not only okay, they were exactly what you needed.  And even now, it is something special.

You could see the reaction of the other attendees, sitting here in a crowded Hilton restaurant on a rainy Austin day ... all around me, wistful smiles appeared on faces. Even a few tears. Seeing that clip of him reminding us all that he did like us exactly as we were (and are) was clearly a message that still resonated with all of us.

I remembered a moment when I was a kid and I realized that for some kids, Mr. Rogers' expressions of love for them "just the way they were" might have been the only time they heard words like that directed that them. (OK, I was a weird child...but it was all right because Mr. Rogers liked me "just the way I am.")  I cried when i first realize that, and I almost did again today.  What a gift he gave to so many kids!

But the good news from this presentation is that Mr. Rogers' message, and his lessons about life, caring, self-esteem and of course, the power of imagination, will live on.

A new series called Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood will be airing soon on PBS stations across the country.  The animated show features the characters we knew and loved like Henrietta Pussycat, Lady Elaine Fairchilde, and of course, Daniel Striped Tiger, but they are now the parents of preschoolers of their own.

The star of the show, Daniel Tiger Jr., will teach a new generation lessons about caring, taking turns, dealing with scary things, and being a part of a family. But above all, Fred Rogers message about being loved "just the way you are" comes through loud and strong. And that's the very best part of all.

Thank you Mr. Rogers.  For the lessons we grew up with, and for leaving a legacy that will live on in this new series.

And just for the record, we loved you just the way you are, too.

First a chimney sweep, then the kites

The other day, I met a chimney sweep.  Actually, I didn't know he was a chimney sweep when I met him.  I just liked his hat...a traditional black top hat.

We chatted for a few minutes, and then he shook my hand, reminding me that Mary Poppins (the wisest woman in history, according to Charles the chimney sweep) said that shaking hands with a chimney sweep brings good luck.

And I am not one to ever turn down good luck!

And then yesterday, we saw the kites.  Hundreds of kites at Austin's 84th annual Kite Festival.  And suddenly, the sky was full of kites...more kites than I had ever seen in one place.

Kites of all sizes and shapes....

And people and music and of course, dogs!

A cute pup near our chairs

Including Maya.....

Maya Puppy!

 ...who loved meeting all the other dogs. And watching the kites! Seriously!

Anyhow... With chimney sweeps and kites in one week, shouldn't I be ready for the carousel that will take me on a cross country jaunt?  It can't be far behind!

2011 -- A Bittersweet Goodbye

It's time to say goodbye to 2011.  And this year, it's a bit harder than usual to say so long to the old year.

It's not that it's been a good year...it's been difficult.  But there were some things in 2011 that are now gone forever, and that makes it hard to crack open the bottle of ginger ale and toast to the new year.

In January, my mom passed away.  Our relationship went from rocky to none, and we never got to say goodbye. She chose to not have me around at the end, and that remains incredibly painful almost a year later.   But even with all of that, I am sad that she will not be on the planet to see the arrival of 2012.  She did a lot of good for a lot of people in her lifetime, and it should have been longer. Knowing that 2011 was the last year she would see makes seeing it go even harder.

2011 also saw the passing of an uncle I had become close to after years of not seeing him,  I am grateful for the chance I got to finally live close enough to feel that we knew each other, but sad that the time was cut short.  He was great guy, with a dry but always ready sense of humor and a love for Hershey Chocolate bars and black licorice.  Like my mom, I wish he was around to great the new year,

2011 was supposed to be the first full year my new husband and I would have together...a chance to learn about each other and build our marriage.  Instead, he had to take a job out of state, while I remained in Florida to ready the house for renters and wait out the school year.  The result was 6 long, stressful months apart.  The coming together again was wonderful, but we are still recovering from each others absence and the unique stresses it caused for each of us.

And even the reunion was bittersweet, because it meant leaving behind my beloved home state of Florida, where I have dear friends, family and a lifetime of memories.  The move to Texas meant no more late night suppers on the patio of Flashback with Polly and Karen, no more snorkeling trips with Jimmy and the rest of JAC, no more lunches with friends from work who had become such dear friends, no more driving past my high school every day on the way to work, no more running into old friends at the grocery store, the mall or a concert.  Yes, change can be good, it's also difficult when it's not chosen.

So forgive me, 2012, if I don't greet you with open arms and a cheerful countdown.  I need to hold on to every last minute of what will never be after 2011 fades away. 

Those who seek to control: love of power or an expression of fear?

We've all met some of these people.

No matter what you're doing, they will always tell you how to do it better.

Or what you're doing wrong.

Or what actions you should be taking that you are not.

It doesn't matter if it's a task you've been doing successfully for years, or the dress you just bought for the company dinner, or the way you've arranged your furniture. I'm not talking about someone with a specialized area of knowledge who is passionate about sharing it. These are the generalists, who would appear to know most everything about, well, everything!

They are right there offering "helpful" suggestions. Put this here, get this instead, do it this way. These aren't the mean tyrants who scream and swear and demand. These are the people who always believe that you are in need of their help to avoid a potentially disastrous result. Their "suggestions" are phrased so carefully, that you might not see them for the control efforts they are. But here are some clues...

1) The suggestions are made when you have not asked for them, nor are you expressing any distress, uncertainty or doubt about what you are doing

2) The suggestions make you feel that you must say "Thank you," even when you would rather say "Stop!"

3) The suggestions are made across of a variety of situations, from car troubles to hairstyle to classes for your kids. In fact, there seems to be no area in which they do not have something to say.

4) Hearing the suggestions makes you feel less capable, less certain or makes you feel that you must at least consider whatever they say lest they be offended.

5) They offer suggestions to nearly everyone...family, friends, your friends, strangers on the subway -- even career professionals like doctors, lawyers and others they may have hired.

And while these chronically helpful people come across as meaning well, the phrase "The path to hell is paved with good intentions" truly applies to them.

So is it a love of power? Sometimes, probably. But mostly it's fear. Self-doubt.

In most cases, these controlling people have lives that are out of control. Their own children are in trouble at school, but they are ready with advice about your parenting. They need to loose 50 pounds, but they can tell you what diet you need to follow. Their yard is a mass of weeds, but they will suggest where and what you should plant in your own garden.

So what do you do? They aren't acting out of malice, after all. But the effect can be damaging to us. Try this:

Next time you are on the receiving end of one of their "helpful" comments, say firmly but kindly that favorite-phrase of 4 year-olds everywhere:

"No thank you, I can do it myself."

And despite what they may tell you, know that you really can.

Do it now!

The one thing everyone has said about Meghan was that she lived -- REALLY lived -- every moment of her life. We can honor her memory by contributing to one of the scholarship funds that have been set up in her name, and I hope everyone will.

But even more so, I hope we will all honor her memory by following her example and the example of extraordinary people like her.

• If there is someone you love, tell them now. Right now. And then tell them again tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.
  
  
• If there is a chance to laugh and really enjoy the moment, laugh. Share your laughter and joy with everyone around you, especially those who look least likely to laugh.
  
  
• Don't worry about looking silly, or trying to maintain your dignity. Once you've gone, your dignity will be long forgotten. Your willingness to put yourself out there and be yourself will be what people remember.
  
  
• Smile. Really, and truly smile. At your friends, at your family, at the world and above all, at the camera. So what if you think your hair is messy or your makeup is wrong. Someday those photos may become treasures. Make them happy.
  

I would like to ask those of you who knew Meghan far better than I to add to that list. What lessons did she teach you that we should all learn? What will you take from her far-too-brief life, and carry forward in your own lives?

What is the very best lesson anyone who has gone Home has left with you?

Feel free to post it here, or own your own blogs and web pages. Share it at her Memorial service if you're able to go. Make it happen in your life.

I will start the list:

My Great-Aunts, Eva, Helen, Ruth and Blanche, taught me that life is a grand adventure. This may be the only one, or there may be more. But even if we get another time around, it won't be the same as THIS time. So go for it, girl!

Your turn....

The family party I love

It will be the cousins, our kids, spouses for those who have them, one uncle, and a lot of food. Calls to the other Aunts and Uncles and cousins. Laughs, old photos, new photos, shared memories and silliness. Breakfast at Cracker Barrel the next morning, and then everyone heads home.

For years and years, I lived too far from any family to have family holiday parties or family birthday parties or family visits. And rifts within the family kept some of us from talking to others of us.

But now I am home. After living all over the country, I now live 14 miles from where I started. It's been about a year and a half since I moved back. And these silly, crazy family parties are one of the best things about being home.

Silly gift exhanges, shared dinners and someone who remembers Grandmom. Tears and laughter as we remember the Aunt/Mom who went HOME this year after a long illness. Our kids playing together and creating family memories of their own. Taking over the dining room at Cracker Barrel tomorrow morning!

It's going to be a wonderful weekend.

Ramadan, Day 7

It's amazing how quickly we've adapted to the schedule of Ramadan. This morning at 5:30, my 16 year old daughter, who is also observing the fast, came into my room.

"Have you eaten yet, Mommy?" And a while later...

"It's 6. We have until 6:11. Do you want some more water?"

One week since the observance started, and our mornings have changed from a quick Pop-Tart and cup of tea on the way out the door to a real breakfast at 5:30 a.m. And an eye on the schedule posted on the fridge and the clock. No one is questioning whether they could grab another glass of water at 6:12, even though it's only a minute later. The precision of the times makes it impossible to ignore.

And it feels natural. It has already become a part of our routine.

As has the evening, when we watch the time as we prepare dinner.

"Time to break the fast", one of us will say. And the milk comes out, and the dates, and we snack gratefully on those as we get dinner on the table.

Our appetites are diminished, but what we do eat tastes so good, as though we are noticing the flavours and textures for the first time.

Ramadan has already changed us in ways we never anticipated. We expected hunger, thirst, maybe a headache. Some grumpiness. But instead, we've discovered a soothing routine, a schedule to make us aware of food and water and time and commitment. Yes, we have experienced hunger. And at times, the thirst becomes almost unbearable.

But mostly we have discovered an order and peace we had not expected. But have quickly come to cherish.

Mommy, I touched a snake!!!

My nine year old is visiting her dad in Pennsylvania for the summer. I love her daily updates on her adventures away from home.

Today she called me all excited..."Mommy there was this wildlife exhibit...and I touched a black snake!"

I was astounded by her bravery.

This is a child who has had a fear of snakes that seems to have started at birth.

Before she could talk, she would flail in panic in her bath as though something was on her feet. She would awaken in terror in the night, doing the same...kicking and screaming in terror. When she began to talk, her bathtime and nighttime terrors were accompanied by a scream of "NAKE! NAKE!" I was baffled.

It was not until we made a trip to a science museum that I understood what she had been trying to say...she took one look at the reptile exhibit and screamed, trying to pull in her feet and hide..."Nake! NAKE!" she yelled from under her blanket. We were standing in front of the snake cages. As far as I know, that was the very first time she ever saw a snake. And yet her fear had predated that exposure by months.

A few time before, she has tried to approach a snake. She has watched, from a distance of several yards, while I handled a boa at a mall nature booth. But her terror prevented her from coming any closer.

But today, she gathered her bravery and TOUCHED a snake. "It's cool and soft, Mommy" she told me, her voice bursting with pride. "And I touched it!"

I stand in awe -- she has faced a fear that has haunted her throughout her entire life. At nine years old.

How many of us are so brave as to touch our greatest fear?

Of course, there is a price for me to pay for her triumph...she wants me to go on the Great Bear roller coaster at Hershey Park when I go up there later this summer.

I am TERRIFIED of rollar coasters! But unfortunately, unlike with snakes, just touching the ride doesn't count.

I only hope at the end of July, I will be as brave as my 9 year old daughter...but her example is going to be a hard one to follow!

Some thoughts on Mother's Day -- Now versus Then

I had a very good Mother's Day...

My teenaged daughter brought tears to my eyes when she gave me a lovely necklace that featured a small silver dangle engraved with "Mother" -- and showed me that she had the matching "Daughter" one! A teenager who WANTS to match mom...I am beyond words!

My little one made me breakfast...her very famous scrambled eggs and toast. It was perfect! She has a secret to her delicious eggs but I had to promise not to tell anyone. Especially not the entire internet! And she made me a beautiful card at school...all hand woven with stories inside.

My son, who lives with his dad far away, sent me an oh-so-sweet card, and called. I'll be seeing him in just a few weeks and can't WAIT!

As a single mom, I suffer from too few hours and too many responsibilities. When I'm not actually at work, I'm usually cooking or doing household chores or taking my girls to one destination or another. (That's why I treasure our nights listening to music that I talked about in earlier posts!). Sometimes I think I'm not making it, not giving my kids everything they need, never mind what they want.

And then Mother's Day comes along, and I discover that according to my kids, I'm doing just fine.

I am one very happy mom! And a very blessed one.

How different it was when I was on the other side...as the daughter.

I remember many Mother's Days with my mom. My dad would take me shopping, and I would spend hours and lots of Dad's money picking out my mom's favourite perfume and some jewelry and maybe a book or two. Then there would be a big card and some drawings to go inside. I'd come home, wrap them carefully and wait for the big day. Then I wait while she opened the gifts...

"I already have this perfume."

My smile would fade just a bit.

"I don't wear this kind of jewelry."

I would start to feel guilty...how could I have messed up so badly?

"I think you picked this book out for yourself."

Sometimes I would try to salvage the moment by pointing out the advantages of the gifts.

"This is the new kind of the perfume. And I thought you would like the book because..." But my pleadings would fall on deaf ears. She'd gather up the paper, looking for all the world as though she was the recipient of a tax audit instead of the offerings of a little girl who wanted to make her mom happy.

So when I see the smile on my children's faces as they present me with their cards and gifts and gestures, I also allow myself to thank the little girl inside of me. Her gifts were just right, too. And the little girl that once was me smiles on Mother's Day...finally.

I am such a bad mommy, but the music was so good!

I was going to be good the rest of this week. Honestly I was. I was going to come home after work and make the girls a lovely dinner and do laundry and read and work. I was going to get the girls into bed early.

Honestly!

I was going to!!!

But I didn't.

Last night I worked late, raced home, grabbed the girls and went to hear music with T, and her friends from the senior living community and my friend G who has been so busy I haven't seen her in almost two weeks even though we live on the same street!

The band was excellent, the evening weather was even better. We listened and talked and sipped tea(me), soda (my girls) or coffee (everyone else.) We laughed at stories. My little one and I played a game of chess. My older daughter chatted with far away friends on my laptop. We ate Taco Bell for dinner.

I meant to be good. But the music and the evening were too tempting. The time grew late and the music went on, and the stories flowed.

I am such a bad mommy, I thought as I tucked my daughter in at 10:30pm instead of the 9 pm I'd planned. But then I thought of the years ahead when a night spent doing chores will be long forgotten, but a night spent listening to music and talking and dancing around a fountain on a warm Florida evening just might be a treasured memory.

Maybe I'm not such a bad mommy after all...

Old country ways and raising American kids

I have a friend who is from Egypt. He's the father of several children, the oldest of whom is turning 16 in about a month.

I casually asked how he was going to deal with her dating in a few weeks, as I assumed that like most conservative parents (like me...ok...conservative about some things...way to the left of liberal on others!) sixteen would be the magic number for dating. Having your oldest date is scary, as I have discovered, so I expected the usual lighthearted litany of fears and commments about waiting up with a shotgun, or interogating the boy under a bright light.

"She is not going to date," he stated flatly. I thought he was joking.

"Yeah right. You wish."

"I'm serious. I want her to concentrate on school. And when she's ready, she'll date seriously and get engaged then married."

My shock clearly showed!

He proceeded to tell me it was "the way we do things." and that I did not understand the Muslim way.

I didn't know what to say. This man who had lived in America for over 30 years, had a beer in front of him as he spoke (his third since I arrived an hour before), never went to the mosque, did not pray the daily prayers nor fast on Ramadan is telling me his daughter must not date because it is the "Muslim way?" This man who has done nothing but complain about his arranged Muslim marriage which lasted for less than a decade but still makes him furious because he so despised the woman...he is about to make his lovely, talented New York-born daughter forgo high school dating because it was not the way when he was teenager over 30 years ago in Egypt?

But she will be on her own in college in two years, I protested. Yes, he agreed. I told about classmates and roomates in college who had been so restricted at home and went completly wild with the freedom of college. I told him about my own dating, stating at 16, with boys my parents met and talked to, with curfews and rules about where and when I could go. But I was allowed to go. So when I went away to college, I knew what to expect and how to handle myself and how to say no. Loudly and repeatedly if necessary.

He became angry.

"I will raise my daughter as I please!"

"But, but..." I sputtered...

Clearly there was no argument he would hear. And as I left to go home, I wondered...

is it possible to bring old country rules into the US and try and apply them to American borne children? Without the social suppport for the rules and the familial models, is it even a reasonable idea to try?

This child will watch her peers go on dates. She will hear about movies and dinners and beach dates and tennis dates and lunches. Will being kept from participating in innocent and wholesome activities breed a respect for the rules from another time and place, or will they create shackles she will break as soon as she is on her own and able?

Seizing the moment: cost -- zero dollars

Peter Max's Angel with Heart

I just woke up from a wonderful weekend.

Saturday, we met the artist Peter Max, and saw an incredible collection of his work. There were two pieces I loved...one was a water scene and one was an angel. Both had such amazing colors and a beautiful simplicity in their lines...had I an extra $6000 in my pocket, I would have left with one. But I am happy to have had the chance to meet him, to see his work, and let my daughters share in the experience.

My little one got an autograph, complete with a little heart drawing...she is thrilled!

Cost of this once in a lifetime experience? Zero dollars.

After the reception, we headed over to hear the Russian National Orchestra with Itzhak Perlman performing on the violin. The Opus from the Prokofiev Symphony No. 5 was enough to send the entire crowd into a trance...not a sound was heard from the hundreds of people gathered there under the stars, listening to this amazing performance. No one even coughed. It was was though everyone held their breath, lest they miss note of Perlman's solos or the orchestra's absolute perfection.

I have heard both the Russian National Orchestra and Itzhak Perlman on recordings, on the radio and on tv, and I have heard other wonderful orchestras and soloists in person, but NOTHING prepared me for the pure, perfect sound I heard Saturday night.

Cost for this unforgettable experience? Zero dollars.

Sunday, it was time to get outside and enjoy the sunshine. We headed for the beach, roller blades and water bottles in hand, and spent 3 hours alternately blading, scootering, and sitting on the beach. I made friends with the FATTEST seagull I've ever seen and had a great time feeding him/her tiny pieces of potato chip from my hand as it stood RIGHT NEXT TO ME on the beach! The girls played in the water, dug in the sand, and made fun of my new feathered friend's obesity.

We came home covered with sand, tired and slightly sore from the blading and scootering, but otherwise very happy.

Except for the $1/hour parking meter, the cost for our afternoon? Zero dollars.

Having my two daughters with me to share it all? Priceless.

Thank you Mastercard's ad team for giving us all a great way to look at life.

The surprising virtue of laziness

Ask anyone who knows me to describe me, and the term energetic will probably come up. Or maybe hyper, or unable to sit still, or always running somewhere...the meaning will be the same. I have a very hard time sitting still. And being indoors and sitting still is the worst. I twitch, I wiggle, I wander, I pace. Since I moved back to the sunshine, I spend every free moment outdoors at concerts, art shows, festivals, the beach, or just out for a walk. If I go to a restaurant that offers indoor and outdoor seating, I will inevitably choose the outside table. I have been trying to devise a way to get my employers to move my desk and computer outside so I can work in the breeze under a palm tree.

Today was a beautiful February day. Warm, breezy, and once some morning clouds passed, sunny and clear. So where did I spend this beautiful day? Outside at a festival? In the pool? Walking on the beach? No, I spent almost the entire day indoors. Inside Barnes and Noble, and then inside my apartment, sitting on my bed reading Mohammad Yunus' book "Banker to the Poor" and drinking tea. Doing Yoga. Talking with my daughters. Talking with friends on the phone. Watching television (okay, it was PBS, but it was television!) Even grabbing a few minutes of power-napping. Indoors. All day. I didn't even touch my computer until now.

And I discovered something amazing. I feel really good. I feel as though I had a weekend, for the first time in I don't know how long. I am rested and not dreading the Monday a.m. alarm. I feel refreshed. I am amazed.

I think one of the reasons I run so incessantly is that I have a fear that if I ever stop long enough to rest, I won't be able to start going again. Life as a single mom is tough, and the stress can be overwhelming. So I keep moving. I sleep 4-5 hours a night. I come from 9 hours of work and do 4-5 hours of cooking and homework-helping and housework. On weekends, I run around getting everyone where they need to go, and try to make as many memories as possible. I never stop.

But today, I did. Oh, I still cooked three meals, but they were simple and easy. And I did some laundry, but that mostly involved throwing handfuls of things into a washer and then a dryer, then folding them while watching Wayne Dyer talking about intentional living on PBS.

I boldly went where I had never gone before as a single mom...I rested. My car rested. And although they complained about it at first, my daughters even rested.

Next weekend, I will probably return to my outdoor lifestyle. And I'll enjoy it. But it's nice to know that it is possible to spend a day doing nothing much at all. And to enjoy every minute of it.

Memories of my friend O's home

Cooking dinner together in the kitchen that always seemed just big enough for everyone who wanted to help with dinner

Watching movies with 6 kids draped around on the sofa

Hot tea after dinner on the front porch in the breezy Florida evenings

Feeling absolutely welcome and at home no matter what time of day or night we happened to be there

All the neighborhod kids coming over to play and swim in the pool...sometimes 10 or 12 kids in the house at once, and all of them welcomed by O.

Dinners around the table with an odd mix of California vegetarian and traditional Egyptian food and everybody enjoying it.

Getting 6 kids ready, out of the house and into two cars, along with any of their friends who decided to go along, to go to the beach, a movie, out to dinner, or to the park.

Knowing that we always had a friendly home to visit.

Starting Over on $260 --- Thank you American Red Cross

On Friday night, my friend's house went up in flames. Not just an ordinary housefire from something left on the stove or a faulty wire somewhere. This was arson, with accelerant in every room. The contents, the walls, the ceilings, the floors and even the windows are all gone. The metal window frames are melted and hanging in bizaare swoops and angles that make my stomach turn. My friend and his four children are staying in a single hotel room. The Red Cross provided them with a room with no cooking facilities except a tiny microwave and a coffee machine, then gave them $130 for food. Total. For five people. And another $130 for clothing. Ditto. They have the room until tomorrow at 11 am. After that, they are on their own.

Aside from the clearly criminial act of setting this fire, there is another criminal act going on.

The Red Cross, which misses no chance to collect money from the good people of this country, is raking it in by the armful, and giving it out in thimblefuls.

Imagine you have lost everything. An arson determination means weeks or even months of delay for the insurance payments. You have 4 children. And now you have $260 to feed and cloth them from scratch. $260 for backpacks and school supplies and shoes and underwear and food and clothes for school and clothes for work and laundry and personal care things like shampoo and soap and deodorant and ... food. This man probably gave far more than $260 to Red Cross over the years. And yet that is all this good family has to "get back on their feet."

If that is truly all the Red Cross can spare for a family of five, why aren't they working with area and national merchants to gather supplies for families in crisis? Why aren't they showing up with gift certificates for clothing and food, backpacks full of school supplies and a list a rental housing especially for short term crisis housing? A debit card and a few teddy bears and they are on their merry way to the next fund-raiser. Another family helped. NOT!

After hearing a while back how much the director of the Red Cross makes each year, I was hesistant to give them any more donations. After this fiasco, I will make sure I never do. Spread the word. It's time for a change. The Red Cross has outlived its usefulness. Let's make something better...and I'll direct it free.