Existence

If you write a blog and don't tell anyone about it, does it really exist?

The answer: Yes.

I haven't told anyone, except my husband that I have a blog. I'm not certain why I haven't shared this piece of info but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with acceptance. If no one reads my blog than no one can criticize it. Doesn't really serve the purpose of writing a blog, but it is what it is.

I'm not a writer so do I really have any business writing a blog? I've always loved to journal and I'm a true believer in "writing it down." Once it's on paper/computer screen and not lingering in your head, it makes you feel better.It makes me feel better.

I didn't start a blog so that I could complain, yet I feel like each time an idea pops into that blonde head of mine it is about something that is troubling me, annoying me or just plain pissing me off. The thought that someone, someday, might just read this blog makes me censor who and what I write about. I try to keep it in general terms, that way it could apply to anyone. Confrontation doesn't sit well with me so I think I will keep it as vague as possible. I would just love to share a doozy of a neighbor story with you...but vague, vague, vague.

Maybe I should look into my negative-way of thinking. Sometimes it invades me and I find it hard to find the good all around me. And there is plenty of good around. I have so many things to be thankful for. This past year alone our family has had a few harrowing experiences that have turned out very, very well. With that being said, I have four beautiful, healthy, well-rounded children, a husband who loves and respects me, a beautiful home and family all around me. I am truly blessed. (There. I did it. Positive.)

I'll keep on writing and try hard not to be a Debbie-downer all the time. And maybe, just maybe, I'll tell someone about this blog. Maybe.

Jody

Tangled

...and not like the Disney movie.

This "mess" of cords makes me @#%*CRAZY*%#@ !! Since it resides in the drawer right next to my keyboard, I see it often. It was meant to be a neat place to keep cords for iPods, cameras, dinosaur toys, etc. so that they don't get lost in the shuffle. It started out tidy and organized.

The other day I opened the drawer and my suppressed OCD (which will have to remain suppressed until my children have all grown and moved into their own homes--and probably my husband too) came out in full force. But instead of getting completely and senselessly annoyed, I tried a different approach. Oh, I still untangled them and bound them each very neatly side by side (where they will remain for about 30 seconds until someone needs to "charge up"). This time however, I looked at the mess of wires differently. As I untangled each cord, a thought occurred to me... Untangling those cords is like taking a bundle of life's little bits of craziness, finding a solution one by one and then putting "life" neatly back in order. Sounds deep, I know. But for me it is so true.

It mirrors the adage "don't sweat the small stuff." If you let the little things get you down, then the big things will plain and simply crush you. An argument with a family member, a rude driver on the road, a friend who is being not-so-friendly, unfinished homework at 8:29 a.m.---all small cords. When you use patience and understanding for the small cords, it's good practice for when a tangled mess of industrial-sized extension cords are thrown at you.

Yes, it is for certain that the drawer will be filled with tangled cords and wires again, just as a driver will cut me off or someone will be rude at the grocery store. But with the wisdom to patiently untangle the small stuff, comes the wisdom and the know-how to conquer the life-sized stuff, with finesse.

Jody

Change is good

I'm not a really big fan of Fall, for lots of reasons, but most of all because the school year begins.  It may not be for the reasons you are thinking (refer to my last blog, A Day in the Life). "Change is good" or so they say... but is it really? I've never fared well with change. As a matter-of-fact, I down right hate it. Too bad right? Life is full of change.

Of course not all change is bad, per say. There's the change in weather from rain to sun, there is the change in... well, that's the only positive one I can think of for the moment (sorry, glass half-empty me at the moment).

When I was a child I suffered from "Separation Anxiety" as discovered after years of adult therapy. I never liked to be away from my mom and dad, ever. I wouldn't do sleep overs at friend's houses or go away on vacation with them as teenagers. I even remember at an earlier age (maybe 4 or 5) not letting my dad leave when he brought me to a friend's house for a play date. Separation anxiety is a terrible thing for a child because you are too young to use any sort of cognitive thinking. Or in other words, be reasonable about the situation. Obviously my parents were coming back for me! Duh? But for a child, it is a feeling of abandonment without actually ever being abandoned---ok, ok, I'm getting much too deep...back to the point. Change, I hated it---I despised the start of school. I was a social butterfly once I got there, but would rather stay home at the safety of my mom's hip. I'm sure this drove my parents insane. I remember my mom waking my dad up one morning before she sent me off to school and they went round and round with all sorts of bribery in a vain attempt to get me on the bus without crying. My dad worked nights, so there must have been some significance of him jumping on the bribe-your-child-to-go-to-school train! I think I cried everyday until the 6th grade (then I found the thrill of sneaking make-up to school and applying it in the bathroom before school started...hmm). This pattern went on for years and years. Even as a young adult, off to college, I cried when my mom left me standing in the middle of an apartment, I had never seen before (not to mention with two strange roomates) which was to be my home for the next semester. Did I mention this University was only a mere 30 miles from home? (and then I started partying...hmm).

Five years ago when I sent my first son to school, I sat in his Kindergarten room at orientation and watched him color in his red apple (R-E-D spells "red") in his little seat, at his little desk...and I cried, a lot--not tears of joy. I'm sure the other parents thought I was a little goofy. I'm sure a few of them were thinking, "Reserve the crying for the first day when he goes without you."  A few weeks later I was having a drink with a friend and this guy approached us. He said, smirk on face, "Hey, weren't you the mom who was doing all that crying at the Kindergarten orientation?"  "Oh yea, well what kind of parent of a Kindergartner is out during the week drinking in a bar..." err, umm, oh wait, me.  I laughed him off. But obviously, he noticed the pitiful "orientation sobbing." When the dreaded day came and I had to put him on the bus and wave goodbye, I did. Tear free. Well, that is, until I got home and started crying hysterically while folding laundry and thinking, "I can't even go get him because he lawfully needs to be in school." Change = bad.

This year I sent my 3rd child, my daughter, my princess, my sidekick to Kindergarten. Difficult, sadness, anxiety, change. Change, not good. Blah!

My kids don't mind separation from their mother one bit. Sure, they went through the 6 month, 12 months and 24 month separation thing that all kids go through, but they bounced right back. They love sleep overs, and school and they don't fret over change. Thank goodness.

There is one thing that I don't mind changing... that would be... underwear. And that's about it!

Jody