2011

I mostly ignored this blog in 2010. Sometimes it was the elephant in the room. Mostly, however, it simply didn't cross my mind. At all. I had a lot on my plate, both because of job searching and then starting a new career, and because of other, very fundamental, changes in my life. And I found myself not writing.

Sometimes I tried to write. I began a few posts, then got completely frustrated or disgusted or bored, and deleted each one. The posts were trite, the posts overshared, the posts were pointless.

For the past few weeks, I've missed it. I've missed writing itself, or participating in the blogging world, or maybe just the navel-gazing that blogging often allowed me to do.

So. It's a new year. For about six seconds, I considered launching a new blog. But that seemed grandiose. A more reasonable thought is just putting up a new post. So, now that I've addressed my long absence, I guess I need to address a few more things. Because of my new career, I'm going to be more circumspect in my posting. Before my new job started, I took down a lot of posts. Since this blog isn't anonymous, I don't have the luxury of posting whatever I think. Because I like being employed, and I like my current job. Also, my kids are old enough that they have a vote, and they prefer to not be the topic of my blog. Or be mentioned at all. And I think that's reasonable.

Which makes the whole thing funny, when you think about it. This blog's address is "anotherworkingmom.blogspot.com", and I won't be writing much about work or my kids. Let's enjoy the irony together for a moment.

Did you hear the crickets chirping? Or was that my imagination?

Okay, I think that actually explains my long hiatus better than the first few paragraphs. Without those two topics - the two topics that were the original inspiration for this blog to begin with - I'm left to write about, well, um. I don't really know. I won't be writing about my cats and dogs, and I don't cook or garden or craft enough to write about that.

I'm going to leave it to the readers, since I don't really have a clue. What should I write about?

Dog spelled backward

I woke up yesterday morning with an extra person in my bed - my daughter. She's twelve now, and hasn't climbed into my bed in years, so I asked her what was going on. She explained that she had thrown up in her bed a few hours before. (*She also told me that afterward, she slept the rest of the night in her bathtub.)

The night before, we had a strange bit of behavior from "her" dog, Biscuit.

For background, our dogs stay downstairs in our house. We used to have a baby gate on the stairs to keep them from venturing upstairs (because they had occasional accidents up there), but have removed the gate and they stay down.

**For more background, Biscuit, now seven, is a sensitive dog, especially to weather. She gets very nervous when it rains, and generally hides in my closet during storms or even hard rain. Sometimes, however, she sneaks upstairs and hides under my son's bed during bad weather.

So, Sunday night, Biscuit kept going upstairs. Instead of hiding, however, she kept going upstairs, then halfway down the stairs, then back up, then down, and so on. She finally laid down in my daughter's room, still agitated.

My daughter has a day bed with a trundle, and she uses the trundle as an auxiliary night table, piling books, purse, and other items on it.

When I went upstairs to check out the situation, and to tuck in the kids, the girl and I decided that Biscuit was up there to stay, so we removed the books and other items from the trundle so that Biscuit could sleep there.

The dog stayed up there a few minutes, then came downstairs.

A few hours later, my daughter had thrown up all over both beds. As she correctly noted later in the day, if Biscuit hadn't been acting so strange, she would have thrown up on her homework, her school books, her beloved Harry Potter books, her purse, and more.

She concluded that it was a great stroke of luck. I, however, remembered that dog spelled backward is God. And I thanked Biscuit for taking such good care of her girl.


*Yes, in her amazingly rational adolescent, fever-addled brain, my daughter figured that, even with an extra bed upstairs and a perfectly comfortable sofa downstairs, the best place for her to sleep was the bathtub. Because it was near a toilet. She went to the spare bedroom and got pillows and bedding and removed all the shampoo, soap, and other containers from the tub, and made a little bed there. The best I can figure is that she was running a high fever and was completely out of it. Because that's one of the most bizarre things she's ever done.

**We got a surprise snow event later that night, waking up to 3+ inches of snow that were not predicted, but I don't think this was why Biscuit was so agitated.

Not sure what this means

So, this is what I saw when I was making mashed potatoes tonight.

Doesn't it look familiar?

Where should I start the bids on eBay?

Ten days into '10

We've made it ten days into the year, and it's probably about time for an update on my non-consuming progress.

I'm delighted to report that I've remembered to bring reusable bags with me every time I've grocery shopped this year. Sure, on freaking January freaking first, the cashier at the store insisted on wrapping my meat in a plastic bag and putting my milk into a plastic bag, which pretty much negated my use of two reusable bags, but every other time it's worked out okay. I didn't know, until today, that Target gives you a five-cent discount for every reusable bag used in your order. I also didn't know, until today, how much a cashier could fit into a reusable bag. Impressive. Well played, Ms. Cashier, well played.

Frustrations? The big one is how few plastic containers are recyclable in our community. Memphis recycling only takes the type 1 and 2 plastics, but most of the products I buy that come in plastic tubs are the type 5, which has much less carbon impact in manufacture, but it darn near kills me to throw away those tubs. Sure, I could reuse them, but there are only so many sour cream cartons a girl needs! We haven't purchased yogurt in quite a while (the kids lost their taste for it), but I may start making my own, and substituting that for sour cream.

I started some sourdough starter a few weeks back, and that's reduced my family's purchases of yeast and sandwich bread. I'm baking every three or so days, and the recipe I'm using slices very well and has a soft crust. I've substituted whole wheat flour for half the white flour in the recipe and it still turns out very well. It's not a San Francisco-type sourdough...more just a solid bread recipe. My starter is pretty basic...a tablespoon (or one package) of yeast, a cup of flour, and a cup of warm water. Mix in a large bowl, cover, and whisk it frequently for a few days, then put it in a smaller container (mayonnaise jar?) and refrigerate. I make sure to use mine at least twice a week, feeding it with equal parts flour and water when I use it. (Basically, if a recipe calls for 1 cup starter, after measuring out the cup of starter, replace it with 1/2 cup each of flour and water. No need to replace the yeast unless the whole thing goes bad or dies.)

My consumer addiction is very easily swayed by television ads, I learned. We already know that I'm hooked on cosmetics, despite the fact I rarely use them. But a major makeup company has brilliantly bundled some eye makeup products by eye color (three shadows, an eyeliner, and a mascara), and I found myself in a bit of consumer lust. (No, I didn't buy them. I'm not insane.)

One concession I made to the kids: the gift cards they received as holiday gifts? They got to "buy" brand-new products with them. The girl and I went shopping today, and she really enjoyed it. However, she seemed to enjoy our trip to Goodwill too. I think the paradigm can shift, even for a tween girl.

All in all? The first ten days of '10 have gone well.

2010

Yesterday, the first day of my year-long experiment in carbon-footprint-shrinking, we had an early fail.

At the grocery store, I had brought in my reusable bags (yes, I did have to go back to the car to get them, because that's still not a habit), but I still got home with two more plastic bags because the cashier was quite insistent that my meat and milk needed to be in plastic bags so they wouldn't leak onto my other items. And I was tired enough (and polite enough) not to argue.

Yes, we reuse all our plastic bags (when the husband delivers papers, when I walk the dogs, etc.) but I still hated bringing them into the house.

Only one impulse buy at the store, and it was something we do purchase frequently. It was on sale and had coupons displayed alongside, reducing its price to about half what we'd usually pay. If our freezer were less full, I'd have bought more.

The daughter is resigning herself to the no buying new stuff part of the experiment. She was horrified for a moment when she realized she hadn't spend her Christmas gift cards, but I assured her that such purchases were perfect exceptions to the rule, especially because they were technically 2009 purchases.

Too bad it's so cold outside. I'm ready to take down the holiday decorations and put 2009 entirely into the past.

Consumerist addiction

If I'm going to quit the whole consumer hamster wheel, it makes sense to examine the insane ways my money disappears from my wallet.

Let's examine.

Not too bad. Two filled compacts, one of Mary Kay products, one of Arbonne products. Total at this point: 9 eye shadows, 3 blushes.

Skin care. All Mary Kay. Daytime, nighttime, and exfoliant. I'm not horrified or embarassed yet.

Oops. Here's where we see something a little scary. 14 eyeshadows, 4 blushes, 3 eyeliners, 7 lipsticks/glosses, one foundation, one eyebrow wax. Yikes.

One bronzer, one powder, another foundation, a couple of concealers/highlighters, and another ten or so lipsticks. And a homemade lip balm in a tea container. Hey, at least I'm recycling!

Under the bathroom sink. Lots of products. Hair, body, face, etc.




And more products. 90% of them are lotions. Two hair conditioners, and some fantastic ducks!

Here it is. My shame. 14, yes FOURTEEN hair products. 7 of them are curl enhancers. Are they truly different from each other? Not really.

If I added up the cost of these products, even if I only added up what they're worth now (that they're half gone, 25% gone, etc.), I think I could feed my family for a month or more.

Do these products make me look or feel better? Do I use them

Honestly? No, no, and mostly, no. My hair responds best to a weekly shampoo, every-other-day conditioning, and a little massage oil. My skin prefers the soap I make out of chamomile flowers, sage, rosemary, lavender, and unscented Dove soap. I wear makeup MAYBE once a week (but I wore it daily when I worked outside the home).

Which means I obviously have a bit of a problem when it comes to acquisition of products. Part of my year of non-acquisition will be dedicated to not only not purchasing, but also using what I already have. It's clear that I have no business buying any kind of hair or skincare product for myself for quite a long time

I know I'm not alone here. What's your poison? Where do you spend money that doesn't make any kind of sense? What would make you change that pattern?

New adventures await

Merry Christmas!

We're celebrating the holiday with my husband's family, and all has gone very well. No drama, no strife. And everyone seems to like their gifts, which makes things even better.

My mother-in-law found a fantastic book for me, and I'm looking forward to embarking on a creative journey. The book's exercises are intended to last a month or a year, and I'm opting for the year option.

I will use this space to share my progress, and I'd love to have some of you join me. It's certainly a good time for me to embrace such a project. Definitely a good time.

Unemployed holidays

If you'd asked me a year ago, long-term unemployment was definitely not on my list of concerns for 2009. I felt very secure in my job and even was making plans to make myself qualified for further promotions.

And then life happened.

My kids have gotten fairly well adjusted about our family's decreased income, with fewer and fewer requests for new games, dinners out, anything that costs more than a little.

Which brings us to the holidays. Over the past few years, we've tried to reduce, to minimize the whole present thing. Part of it is economic, part of it is philosophical, part of it is just a desire to reduce in general. And part of it is the simple fact that tween kids don't need new toys. Their "play" consists of computer games, football, faceb00k, and video games. And with video games being so easy to rent, we hear fewer and fewer requests to purchase them.

So I have the strangest dilemma on my hands. My kids haven't asked for anything for Christmas, and I don't know what to get them!

Does that mean I don't get them anything?

And yes, I'll freely admit that this post was very much inspired by the book I read yesterday: No Impact Man: The Adventures of a Guilty Liberal Who Attempts to Save the Planet, and the Discoveries He Makes About Himself and Our Way of Life in the Process. It shook me up. A lot. No, I don't expect my family will go off the grid anytime soon, but even if we did a quarter of what his family did, we would be making some major changes.

Hmmmm.

NaBloPoMo is quickly approaching

November is the original National Blog Posting Month, and I definitely need to get back to writing. I'd already decided to revisit my National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) project from 2007, and I think maybe that daily blogging won't hurt.

So here's the thing. I'm all-in on this garden project right now (see this post if you don't know what I'm talking about). Is this way too boring? Or would it be cool for me to blog the garden?

I'll take requests, too. What do you want to know about me? I can't promise that I'll answer *any* question, but if the question is answerable and appropriate, I'll give it a go. You've got all month to ask, so hit the comments!

Elsewhere

I'm getting pretty serious about gardening, so I've decided to chronicle my adventures in a new spot. Check it out if you're interested, and please pardon the dust. I haven't spent any time on the blog design just yet, but it'll get pretty in a few days.

This post is not about football

Yesterday, I attended a different church. It was a planned visit, not one I would have ever considered, but it was about football. See, my son plays on a team that is sponsored by a church (it's a religious rec league) in our neighborhood. And this past Sunday, the team was supposed to come to their service, in jerseys, to be recognized. We are not a family that eschews full participation, so the boy and I headed to a different church.

This church has almost nothing in common with our church. It's a non-denominational Christian church, nearly entirely African-American in membership, and, well, warm. I'm not saying we at Neshoba are cold, but we could definitely take a lesson in warmth from this church. No sooner had we entered the front door than we were greeted, and hugged, by three people (all strangers, by the way). We were early (as instructed by the coaches) so we had a few minutes to get our bearings. In those few minutes, we were given stickers (it was breast cancer awareness Sunday) and I was given a bracelet. And an order of service. And a monthly newsletter. And a newcomer's gift bag, including a reusable water bottle, peppermints, and some literature about the church.

The service? Was definitely not anything I'd ever experienced, but I must say, I truly enjoyed every moment. The congregation is small (I'd say maybe 60 people were there), but the energy level was infectious. The first half hour of the service was praise music, and the five singers (with microphones and backing track) were excellent, and their performances were quite emotionally moving. Although we were sitting in the second row, I turned around a few times and noticed more than a few people (not just women) wiping their eyes and sometimes outright sobbing. (My eyes did tear up more than once....but that happens at good Hallmark commercials, too, so I'm not a good barometer of emotion.)

The service moved on to a congregational reading from Psalms (this was projected from a Powerpoint presentation for those who didn't bring Bibles) and announcements. More music, and offering (which was collected differently from what I'm accustomed to...instead of the ushers passing the plate, congregants came forward with their envelopes). The pastor (whom I've known as one of my son's coaches) then delivered his message, which was fantastic. His primary scripture was the parable of the good Samaritan, which our Director of Religious Education covered beautifully in our story for all ages a few weeks ago, and he brought it to life, verse by verse. Another member of the congregation read the story from the Bible, and he interrupted (this must have been planned) to interpret to more current characterizations. The effect was strong, and the congregation definitely got where he was going. And yes, he might have gotten an "Amen" from me. Or two. Or three.

The prayer was quite moving. There was a full-on alter call, in which he invited those not yet devoted to Christ to dedicate their lives on the spot. But again, he surprised me, by going on to offer the opportunity for those who had found themselves fallen away to come back. I saw two of my son's teammates raise their hands at that point. Then he asked if anyone was in need of prayer. More hands came up. And those who had raised their hands at any point were then invited up front for prayer.

It was particularly touching to see my son's teammates standing together, hands clasped, with one of their coaches (in his uniform, too) with a hand on each shoulder, praying for them. But I was equally moved watching the pastor's face as he listened to each congregant's need for prayer. His compassion was obvious. His prayers were sincere. He prayed for healing, for peace, for wisdom. I saw relief on the faces of the people for whom he prayed.

Do I think he healed them? No, not literally. Do I think that HE thinks he healed them? No, not literally. This didn't seem to be that kind of church. His prayer (which I totally loved) for the sick was that their journey of healing begin at that moment. He didn't pray for healing. He prayed for a journey.

I just realized that I got ahead of the story. Before the sermon, we did something that I normally find very uncomfortable in church services. The hugging. The pastor explained that this church was a family, and we were going to have an "explosion of love" (and yes, that's how it was listed in the order of service). I got hugged about 20 times, mostly by women, but also by teenagers and men and kids. My son got a lot of compliments about his hair (he's rocking the mohawk these days) and lots of those hand-clasp/hugs that boys do these days from his teammates. But instead of feeling awkward or uncomfortable, I felt loved. I really did. I experienced genuine affection and caring from complete strangers.

There were other moments in the service that were great - the boys on the team being recognized, applauded (a standing ovation, actually), and prayed for - the first-time visitors being welcomed - more music. In all, the service lasted about two hours, but the time went quickly (and would have gone more quickly if I hadn't had chili on the stove for the annual chili cook-off in our neighborhood). And after the service, during the traditional refreshments and social time, we were welcomed even more, engaged in conversation, and made to feel like the congregation hoped we would return.

And there it is. I want to return. But I have my own church, a church I love, a church my kids love. It's the only church home they know.

But I also know that I am frustrated going to a suburban church. I live in the inner city. My concerns are much more in the inner city than in the suburbs. But most of the folks in our church are suburban. They don't face inner city problems or issues. And sometimes I have trouble reconciling these two realities.

My thinking right now is that I'll be an occasional visitor to this other church. Maybe on fifth Sundays. Maybe more often...once a month? Is that too much for an officer of the Board in another church? And I still have this issue of theology. I'm NOT a Christian (at least not with a capital C), and this church is very much Christian (maybe even in all-caps). I'm also not black, but I don't think this posed a problem at the church (and in a follow-up conversation with a neighbor who's been a member there for two years, it's quite the opposite...they would love to be more diverse). But the drive is sure a lot shorter. And I did like all the hugs.

Proust Meme

This meme comes courtesy of Slice of Pink.

1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Knowing that the way I live and the way I want to live are the same.

2. What is your greatest fear?
My children dying before me.

3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Lack of honesty.

4. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Hmmmm. Lack of honesty.

5. Which living person do you most admire?
My mom.

6. What is your greatest extravagance?
Clothing.

7. What is your current state of mind?
Pretty positive.

8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Loyalty. It's rarely deserved.

9. On what occasion do you lie?
When it makes for a better story.

10. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
This changes daily. Sometimes it's a wardrobe issue, sometimes it's the acne scars. Sometimes it's all about lipstick.

11. Which living person do you most despise?
Woah, that's harsh. I'm not answering that.

12. What is the quality you most like in a man?
Strength of character.

13. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Strength of character.

14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Like.

15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
I love my family. I can't pick favorites.

16. When and where were you happiest?
Pregnancy was a great time both times.

17. Which talent would you most like to have?
Perfect pitch.

18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
My employment situation.

19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
My kids. They're amazing. Such cool people. I sometimes envy them, because they're much better equipped for this world than I am, even now.

20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
A monkey. It looks like fun.

21. Where would you most like to live?
Here. I like it here.

22. What is your most treasured possession?
I don't have one. Really. I love living things (kids, pets, etc.) but don't care too much about non-organics.

23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Directionlessness.

24. What is your favorite occupation?
Anything that involves making people's lives better.

25. What is your most marked characteristic?
Extroversion.

26. What do you most value in your friends?
The ability to be friends with me. I'm not so sure it's all that easy, despite what my husband says.

27. Who are your favorite writers?
Milan Kundera, Charlaine Harris, Nikos Kazanzakis.

28. Who is your hero of fiction?
Jesus Christ in "The Last Temptation of Christ"

29. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Wow. This is the hardest question in this meme. Joan of Arc is a good choice, although I never would touch her courage. I'll go with Lee Krasner. Look it up if you don't know who she is.

30. Who are your heroes in real life?
My parents, my husband, and Mr. Rogers.

31. What are your favorite names?
Emma, Roland, Darby, Marley, Grace, Eliza, Eudora, Sophie

32. What is it that you most dislike?
Selfishness.

33. What is your greatest regret?
Having only two children. The two we have are fabulous. Who's to say we wouldn't have had an amazing tribe of four if we'd kept on?

34. How would you like to die?
Quickly. Hit by a bus sounds good.

35. What is your motto?
I don't have one, but the verse from Micah leads me a lot: seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your god. That's excellent advice, and if everyone heeded it, our world would be an amazingly just and good place.

Rocks

I started having nightmares after I lost my job in April. I dreamed about returning to work and having ugly confrontations with various people. I dreamed about being at work but not wearing pants. I dreamed about running into former colleagues and screaming at them. It's safe to say I was a little angry about the situation.

One of my character flaws is that I hold grudges. For a long, long time. The boy in high school who broke my heart? I still think ugly thoughts about him. (Keep in mind that I've been with my husband for 21 years now...married almost 17 years.) The girl who made me miserable in fifth grade? Let's just say that when I heard that she had been checked into a mental institution in college, my first reaction was of delight.

I know it's not nice, and probably not very healthy, but that's part of who I am.

So, the nightmares. I was waking up, sweating, heart pounding, in the middle of almost every night. Sometimes I fell back asleep, but usually not. I spent many anxious pre-dawn hours in the living room, watching "Big Brother After Dark" or reading mysteries or playing spider solitaire.

And then, one Sunday, my friend Laura was the worship associate in church, which meant she led all the liturgy when we had a guest speaker for the sermon. I don't remember exactly what she said in her prayer, but something changed. Immediately, and, so far, permanently.

Like I said, I don't remember her words, but an image came into my mind as she spoke. An image of a stone in the water, being smoothed by the current. I imagined the jagged edges gradually wearing away, leaving a shiny surface. There is a bowl of river rocks in my bathroom, and I thought of those stones, so different from the various rocks I've dug from my garden soil this summer.

And I though of myself as one of those rough rocks, and how I could let the current smooth out my rough edges if I just let it.

A feeling of peace washed over me. Immediately. Deeply. Something had changed. I felt something unfamiliar: forgiveness. I was refreshed, calmed, different.

The nightmares stopped, mostly. I can't say that I've completely forgiven the wrongs I've experienced in my life, but I definitely am not dwelling on them like before. I'm sleeping better. And I look at those two collections of rocks - those rough rocks in the back yard, and the smooth river rocks in my bathroom - and know that that beautiful, shiny, smooth surface came from years of currents wearing away the jagged edges.

So, you think you want to be a football mom

I know, I know. This is all I write about anymore. Fair enough. But trust me, this is such a paradigm shift in my household, it's worth further discussion.

So, if you're wondering what it means to be a football mom, here's a bit of information that might help you decide if you can take it.

1. Lots of laundry. Memphis has been through a bit of a rainy spell over the past few weeks (we've gotten about 8 inches of rain this month, so far, compared to a normal monthly total of under 4 inches), and rain means mud. Lots of mud. The team's practice pants are white. And practices/games take place four days a week. And the pants have laundry instructions: no bleach.

2. Even if you're as lucky as we are and your son's team practices in the park that you consider your front yard, you will still have to drive across town for games. And by across town, I might mean into the deep depths of the suburbs.

3. There is a lot of down time between the time your son needs to arrive for a game and the actual start time of that game. Bring a book. There's only so much casual conversation you'll be able to make.

4. If your child is the only white child on his team, you'll be sitting with a few people who might be labeled as "ghetto". Embrace it. Or find another team, which will mean much more driving to practices and games.

5. If your child plays in a faith-based league, get ready for lots of praying at practices and games. If you're the faith represented in the league, this shouldn't be difficult. If you're not, definitely have a conversation with your athlete about respecting other people's religious beliefs. And maybe try to teach said athlete the entire prayer from "Talladega Nights" in case he's ever chosen to lead the prayer.

6. Did I mention the laundry?

7. If your kid happens to be one of the biggest kids on the team, one night, he'll come home and tell you how he got to be the "tackling dummy" during practice. You'll need to remember your Lamaze breathing techniques at this point. Fortunately, he'll be in the shower by the time you realize the entire implications of what he just said.

8. Glasses? Not a problem. The helmet has completely protected his glasses. And his face. I only wish he'd had one of these when he was about 18-36 months old, and was the state champion for head wounds.

9. Watching your child make a game-changing tackle? Is just as great as you could imagine. Even if the team loses the game.

10. Hearing the sincerity in the coaches' and players' voices when they tell your child, "Good game"? Is maybe the best thing a parent could hear.

Yeah, I'll admit it. This theater geek? Loves being a football mom.

Posting like a pirate

The pirate translation of a post a few weeks ago...

Me son started fifth grade at a new sword fightin' academy 'tis month. He knew a couple 'o lads at th' sword fightin' academy, so th' transition was easier than it could have be. He be, however, me sensitive child. While I won't call him shy, I do acknowledge that he takes longer than his extra outgoin' sister to jump into social situations. Which be why I was stunned when, while watchin' th' elementary boys practicin' knife throwin' in th' park across from our ship, he told me he'd like to join that knife throwin' team. But I shouldn't really be surprised. 'tis be th' same jim laddie who decided to take hip-hop dance as his afterschool activity in third grade. So what if he was th' only jim laddie in th' tavern? So what if he was th' only white laddie in th' tavern? He wanted to dance, 'n he did! Perhaps th' knife throwin' be a way to fit in. Perhaps he's simply lookin' fer somethin' physical to do.

Thanks to Post Like A Pirate for the fun.

Another preview

Our soloist is much better...
And here's a link to the commemorative concert t-shirts.

One of my favorites

And our arrangement is better than this

We're at least this good

But we might sound like this