Love

Love comes in a million shapes and sizes. It appears when we least expect it and disappears in the same fashion. It is fluid and ever changing, challenging, easy, rewarding, enlightening, devastating and crippling. Research has proven time and again that we can not live without it, yet our natural human defenses continually push it away. It is the greatest wonder of the world but we continually stumble to define what it should be and place unnecessary restraints on it. Love is a gift and therefore you should accept it graciously, treasure it, take care of it and it is the only gift that it is completely acceptable to re-gift!

As I get older I have definitely become more cynical and love doesn't come as easy and carefree as it did in my youth. I watch my daughter with her friends and the laughter and hugs they share are pure and untainted and I have to remind myself that at one point in my life, love was that easy for me too. My trips around the proverbial block have left their marks on me, some meer surface wounds and others deep gaping gashes that occasionally flare up and cause a bit of pain. The saying that time heals all wounds is really quite accurate but what they forget to tell you is that in the mean time additional wounds can and usually do occur. We are never fully healed. We are never fully whole.

I have also learned that a true love is different for everyone. What I love about my husband or my family might drive another insane. Does this make those things wrong? For me, no, for others, maybe. Could someone else love me like my husband does? No. We have our own unique things that we share that I would never be able to share with another. Our past shapes our love the same as our goals and desires for the future. We are better for the hurts and pains we have caused each other. We have been to rock bottom and fought our way out and we have learned that while we are fine and capable individuals, we are truly better people with each other.

I would say that all of my friends also share that kind of love, but some of them just don't know it yet. Some might never know it and others might walk away from it out of fear, ignorance, exhaustion or many other things that just seem unsurvivable. They all have their struggles and as an observer it is amazing to see them bond together when the going gets rough. Their love is deep and the surface battles they might be facing often robs them of the everyday simple pleasures that remind them of their love. Although, deep down those adversities are feeding their love, strengthening their bonds and solidifying their commitment to each other. If they can just make it to the other side I firmly believe that true love never dies, it just gets lost and you have to be willing to hunt for it.

Love's greatest enemy is time. We are a society of instant gratification mongers and we unnecessarily place unrealistic restraints on love. "If he doesn't call me by 3 we are done". "We haven't had time together for months and I am over it." "I just don't have time for this crap". Oh, we have all uttered those words but when you are talking about a life long love, does a 3 hour, 3 day, 3 month or even 3 year deadline seem fair? If you have the intention of spending a lifetime with someone the first thing you need to get rid of is the pressure of doing things on a set time line. Life happens and it almost NEVER happens when it is convenient. You have to adapt, adjust and let things run their course. It isn't going to happen on a strict timeline. Let it go. Keep working toward your goals, but don't put unnecessary road blocks like time restraints in your path.

Love isn't cheap! I do not mean in the monetary sense, but in the fact that it is constantly needing something to keep it going. It could be something as little as a well timed smile, holding a hand when they need it the most or buying their favorite fruit even though it is out of season and ridiculously expensive. While grand gestures are fun and rewarding those usually aren't the things you remember the most. I will never forget the look on my husband's face when he first saw me in my wedding dress. When I was fighting with the insurance company on our home claim and he dropped everything to just listen in on the conference call just in case I needed him. When we are having an ice cream craving and he offers to go to the store because it is 10 o'clock at night and I am in my jammies. When he rough houses with our son and helps our daughter with her math homework because these are just things I am not good at. Those are the things that I remember. Those are the things that feed our love and touch my soul. Those are at the core of why I love him.

Love is a gift. Treasure it and then gift it back. Today.

Mini Van Land

I will begrudgingly admit that I am a "Soccer Mom". Yes, my main job is to cart my little creations here and there to their various activities, play dates, birthday parties, appointments and the such. I live in a community that being a stay at home mom is the norm and let me tell you that means one thing...an abundance of Mini Vans.

I have come to believe that when one purchases a mini van there is some fine print that is not included on other vehicle purchase agreements. Namely, you must give up the portion of your brain that will allow you to drive like a normal human being. Now, I have plenty of friends that drive these offending abominations to the road, and while they are wonderful, witty and intelligent people out of their vehicles I firmly believe that the mini van literally sucks their brain once they enter the drivers seat. The sucked out portion is replaced with the can't make a left turn, four way stop shut down and parking lot paralysis.

These afflictions make dropping off my children at their local elementary school a trial of both my patience and sanity. Every morning I enter the mini van breeding ground and I can feel my ability to function begin to be drained from their mere presence. By the time I am done in the drop off loop my fingers are griping the wheel and my foot is begging for the open road. Blood pressure is off the charts and the urge to just ram something is at times overwhelming. The process from start to finish is approximately 6 minutes. The most hated 6 minutes of my day.

Maybe it effects me more because I like to drive. I am a driver. I enjoy the open road, the feel of a powerful engine, the responsiveness of an excellently built vehicle and I am pretty sure I am the long lost daughter of an Andriette or Ferrari in my Italian heritage. My husband is a driver as well. When we go on family vacations we almost always drive unless there is a big ocean in the way. Although, once we get over the ocean we head straight to the rental agency and pile into our vehicle of choice. We even rented an RV in Europe for 2 weeks and had the time of our lives, once the jet lag wore off.

I even enjoy "Dude" movies if the right car is involved. Just this week I have watched The Italian Job (being Mini owners we LOVE this film) and the Transporter (a BMW and Jason Statham does life get any better?). I have even ordered the soundtrack from the Transporter from Switzerland because the US version does not have the awesome mix they play during his driving scenes. My husband is a little nervous for the CD to arrive because he knows this means a road trip and maybe a little role playing in the car. I might even let him be the Jason Statham character once or twice.

In the meantime I am sentenced to my life in Mini Van Land and the dreaded 6 minute loop of hell. I will resist the brain sucking power of these mighty beasts and vow to help those afflicted by their mind altering side effects. I will offer to drive whenever possible and remind all those around me what the true driving experience should be. Windows down, hair blowing, radio cranked, open road, engine revving all while hugging a tight turn. Ahhh, the joy of driving...aww crap, time to pick them up!

A Bowl by any other name...

I am not a sports fan. While I enjoy watching a game here or there and even have preferred teams, I rarely sit down to watch a game. Usually it is a case of flipping through the channels and stumbling upon a game that I can watch and more than likely only because nothing better caught my eye. I am even married to a man that for the most part can take it or leave it as far as main stream sports are concerned. Now, any alternative, endurance or obscure sporting event he is all over. I have become a fan by default of such sports as cycling, rugby, triathlons and curling, to name a few.

With all this being said, there are just a few things that I think should remain the same as far as sports are concerned. There should always be a March Madness in college basketball. The idea that an obscure team from a college no one has ever heard of has as much of a chance to advance as a big 10 school is what fuels our hopes and dreams. The Olympics should be a huge deal. We should stop as a nation and applaud the athletes that represent all that is good in our country, the freedom to peruse your passion regardless of what it is even if it does involve pushing a disk on a piece of ice while sweeping a broom. Baseball must have the 7th inning stretch because wiout it when would we have the opportunity to bail out without being obvious. And college football bowl games should not change names.

As I sit here this New Year's Day I am faced with the delima of which bowl game to watch. The Kraft Fight Huunger Bowl looks interesting, but since I am starting a diet today I think it would be in my best interest to avoid reminders of both food and hunger. This also wipes out the Chik-Fil-A Bowl for obvious reasons. The Ticketcity.com bowl could be interesting if I had any idea what Ticketcity.com is or where the game could possibly be held. Is there a Ticketcity.com in the USA? Did a city struggling to balance their budget finally sell out the enire city to make a buck?

What is this crap? What happened to the Sugar, Cotton and Orange Bowls? Nice simple names that you had an idea of where the game was going to be played? Now the names of the games are after thoughts as the corporate sponsors either throw their names in front of the bowl name or obliterate the old name all together. The only game that I can swallow is the Rose Bowl. It is still the Rose Bowl. It is generously brought to us by Vizio. Thank you Vizio for not raping the sacred institution of the 123rd Rose Bowl by shoving your name in front of the roses. It will be the only bowl game I will watch this year because it looks good, smells great and isn't a corporate whore.

Bathroom Issues

Oh, I know what you are thinking...no one needs to hear about this but I beg to differ, someone needs to listen and some changes need to be happening around here. I would like to say I am a laid back type of person that can just go with the flow but that is just crap, pun intended. Pet Peeves? I have a few...thousand. Last night one of my biggest ones reared its ugly head and Momma went on a rampage.

We have 3 bathrooms in this house. Three throne rooms, potties, johns, crappers, piss pots, toities, whatever you want to call them and as I walked through my home EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM HAD SHIT IN IT! No one was currently using them, they were all left abandoned brimming full of foul smelling, gag inducing, SHIT!

What I don't understand is that we are living in the 21st century. We have running water, indoor plumbing and tax payer provided sewage systems. My family does not have to fetch a pail of water, dump a chamber pot or even brave the elements to use the "facilities". Our toilets are modern day marvels that boast all the finest amenities including...wait for it...A FRIGGING LEVER TO FLUSH THE DAMN THING! And this lever is literally inches away from their little hands as they sit on this modern contraption.

I have tried everything to get my kids to flush the toilet. I have asked nicely, begged, yelled, screamed, taken toys away and threatened to flush said toys down the crap infested waters. We even went through a period that if a toilet was found unflushed, regardless who the offending party was, all parties would immediately stop what they were doing and toilets would be cleaned. For about 3 months you could have eaten off my toilets! They sparkled and shined because they were all being cleaned out at least twice a day. Of course we also used enough toilet bowl cleaner to sponsor the Tidy Bowl NASCAR Team all on our own.

Even as I sit here in my office I know full well that there is at least one toilet in my house that is full. The fact that I know at any point of any given day I can stumble across a bowl full of crap is unsettling. Or is it? Can I find comfort in the fact that I know these little idiosyncrasies of my family. Is this one of the things they say you will grow to miss when they grow up and leave the house? Will one day in the future when my children are blazing their own trails of independence, will I gaze longingly into a clean toilet bowl and wish for the days when it was full of shit?

HELL NO! JUST FLUSH THE DAMN TOILET!

My Girls

Every woman needs her girls! You know, the women you surround yourself with that you can be true to yourself, let yourself go and as one of my girls says "show your ugly". In fact, this group of women want you to show them your ugly. They respect you more for showing your ugly and the bonds that develop from those ugly moments are the ties that remain unbreakable for years to come.

I am truly lucky to have a great set of girls that are both near and far. Some of my girls I am lucky to see on almost a daily basis and others I am lucky if I see them once every few years. At the drop of a hat I know I could call any one of them and they would be there for me. They would move heaven and hell if they thought it would make things better. I would never hesitate to do the same for each one of them. They are MY Girls.

I am very protective of my girls and at times it has bitten me squarely in the ass because of it. I often take on their battles as my own and occasionally I have fought to near death for something that really wasn't my battle to fight. I have nearly jumped on planes to right wrongs. Countless hours have been spent dissecting marriages, friendships and kids. Unmeasurable tears have been spilled over hurts, illnesses and losses. I would do them all again without a hesitation because they are MY girls.

The love I feel for them is different than the love I share with my husband, children or family. I have chosen these women the same as they have chosen me. That conscious thought, that effort, the basic free will of choice makes the love more special and unique. It is precious and dear to me and I cherish each one of them. This doesn't mean that occasionally we don't see eye to eye on something or get our feelings hurt by each other, but those things seem to work themselves out because they are MY girls.

To MY Girls, and you know who you are, I love you more than words can say and much more than I probably show you. The gifts you give to me of yourselves, your time and your life are the most precious gifts I have ever received. Thank you for letting me show you my ugly and loving me all the more for it.

First Impressions

What has happened to the youth of our country? Are we failing so miserably in teaching them the basic rules of life? Do they just lack the common sense chip, have we bred it out of our children?

I have a good friend that owns a boutique sportings good shop in our town and I work there a couple days a week. I enjoy the interaction with other people, getting out of the house and doing something completely separate from my normal routine. While it is not my passion, I still respect both my friend and the fact that I have given her my word I would do a good job. I am on time, I work hard, and I talk to just about everyone that walks through the door.

Yesterday, about 4 people walked through the door seeking out employment. Not one of them was dressed nice. Not one of them introduced themselves to me. In fact, I had one even interrupt me while I was with a customer just so they could ask if we were hiring. Two of them came in together with shaggy hair, unkept clothes, their school bags on their backs and attitudes to spare. What are these kids thinking?

I was taught that when you are seeking employment with an establishment, you always present your best appearance in both clothes and hygiene. While it is a small retail shop I wouldn't expect a suit or dress, but I do expect some effort. I know these kids would never dare look this way if going out on the town with their friends. Nice jeans and a cool top would be the norm, but while looking for a jobs they wear sweats and ratty tees? Do they think the potential employers are going to be impressed with their casual appearance? Do they not understand that first impressions can never be altered? As they walk through that door they are establishing how they will represent the business?

Having children of my own I understand all to well the struggles of dressing in age/weather/occasion appropriate attire. Some days I give in the fight and just let them wear whatever makes them happy, but only if the situation allows. Sometimes I can't back down because the lesson I am trying to teach them of respecting others sometimes includes how they present themselves. After witnessing the parade of unkept job seekers that stumbled through the door yesterday, I am renewed in my quest to teach my own children the basic principal of always putting your best foot forward.

After all, you never get a second chance at a first impression and based on my first impression of the job seekers that came through my door yesterday, I told them we weren't hiring.

Not My Mystery

Funny things happen everyday. Really, they do and the only difference in my world is that what I find funny is not always shared by others around me. I have a very dry and sarcastic wit and I always thought I appreciated that in others until I met my match...my own child.

For a 10 year old her sarcastic craft definitely has some maturing and molding to become a true dry wit, but by God she is developing a sense of humor that will make the Sahara Desert look like a tropical oasis. She is quick, her delivery is perfectly timed and she gives nothing away in either her speech or expressions. She is brilliant even in light of the fact that her favorite punch line is usually me.

Oh yes, I have gotten what I deserve. I have bred one just like me. She is my payback. She is my mini me. She is good and she knows it. She knows my buttons and pushes them like the maestro she is. She is 10 years old damn it! What hope is there for me when she hits her teens?

Don't believe me? Please allow me to share a little story.

I am notorious for misplacing my keys. The frantic search as I am heading out the door is common place in our home and while I know it is futile I still ask the question to my loving family..."Has anyone seen my keys?".  Most often the universal response is a mumbled "no" offered in such a manner that it is certain that the question was not even heard and the standard response will appease Mom enough so they can return to whatever electronic device has them captured to the point of a near coma. But one day the standard and expected answer was not used. From the mouth of my sweet girl a different answer emerged and as I was frantically searching through my purse for what was sure the third or fourth time the response offered to me was..."Not my mystery".

Not my mystery? Not my...what? Did you just say...? WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?

There she sat with a slight smirk on her face and a shrug to her shoulder. It was not her mystery. Plain and simple and she knew she had me.

It was one of those moments that defines who we are. How I reacted to this one statement could possibly shape our relationship for years to come. So I did what I felt was the only thing I could do, I laughed my head off. The pride that I felt was almost overwhelming. Her response was smart, hilarious and delivered with perfection. It was beautiful and I told her so.

I also told her that if she ever used that line on me again it could possibly be the last words she would ever utter.