"We had a good run, and now it’s over; what’s wrong with that?" — Garth Stein

Today we had to put our dog Java down. She was 15, with arthritis and dementia, riddled with lipomas (fatty deposits), and in pain. Funny, how all that comes to mind is cliche: she's in a better place now, it was the best thing we could have done, and so on. I think, Oh, I'm OK, and then the tears run down my face.

Java was our training for children. I remember the first night we had her home, and I was teaching her how to go up and down the stairs when suddenly it hit me: I was Responsible for her well-being. I had to teach her how to be safe, to listen, to obey. I had to feed her, and give her water, and exercise her, and comfort her. I sat down on the top step and took her in my lap and promised her I'd do my best, even though I was scared. And we worked well together.

She was very protective of the kids, hated any man with a hat (sorry Mr. UPS man), and loved to snuffle under the bird cage. She tolerated Buck (the frisky 5-year old golden retriever), ignored the cat, and barked at us when we didn't go to bed on time.



Thank you Java. You will be missed.

(as seen in ATA World Magazine - June 2010)

RELUCTANCE
by Lysne Tait

I did not want to join taekwondo. I had been watching for 7 years and I enjoyed being a taekwondo mom. I enjoyed my relationship with the school owner Mr. Elijio Martinez and his wife, the respect of the other students, and the ability to chat with the other TKD moms during class. I loved watching my boys and my husband do something they loved. Besides, I wasn't (and had never been) very athletic. Then, our school changed owners, my youngest decided to join taekwondo, and my mom's cancer returned. I thought all I needed was an outlet, but what I found and what ATA has provided for me was so much more.



I joined Master Flotka's ATA Black Belt Academy in DeWitt, MI in January 2009 with my 5 year old daughter. I was worried because classes were held at night - right around dinner time. How could I juggle the kids' classes, adult classes, dinner, and bedtime, and remain sane? My family stepped up. My son Liam (a 2nd degree Black Belt) had been urging me to join for years. He offered to babysit the younger kids while I was in class. Molly (my 5 year old) was just excited that we were the same belt color. My other son Adam (then a blue belt) would coach me on my kicks and stances, and my husband, Craig (also a 2nd degree Black Belt), offered to make dinner once a week (and help me learn my material and sparring, and ferry kids to and from classes). Our new school owner, Master Carl Flotka, a Sixth Degree Black Belt with more than 30 years experience also started a morning class twice a week, and that clinched the deal.

After watching hundreds of taekwondo classes, I thought I knew what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised. I have never been surrounded by so many people who wanted me to succeed. For the first time in twelve years it was all about me. I have been a teacher, a wife, a mother, a friend - always worried about the welfare of others - and here I was, learning some something new, with people who wanted me to do my best. Taekwondo may be a competitive sport; the learning of taekwondo is not. At the end of my first class, I was in tears: overwhelmed by the kindness and support of my family, my instructors and my fellow classmates.

I was also in a position that I hadn't known in quite awhile - that of a newbie. For years I have been the expert, or at least pretended to be the expert. Joining taekwondo was a new beginning. I would get upset with myself because I couldn't remember 3 steps in a row, and my husband would admonish me by saying, "It's new. You’ve never done it before. It’s OK to not get it right the first, or third or fifth time."

I never expected to enjoy taekwondo. I never expected the friendships I've found, or the sense of accomplishment and pride I feel. I've been to 3 tournaments in the past year, and had an awesome time at each one. I've lost weight, tightened and toned, and feel incredible. Perhaps the most unexpected and life-enriching benefit is that of the family I've found. Taekwondo members cared for my house and dogs when we were called away to take care of my mom during her final week. I came back to DeWitt to a clean house, a stocked refrigerator, and flowers and other treats. But that’s simply what family does for one another.

is it possible to fall in love with your love again?

there are times, when the sunlight falls through the window at a certain angle;

when his hand caresses a dog's ear, or a child's curls, 

or rests on my knee - only for a second -  

 

that the feelings rush to the surface, coloring my cheeks, and my breath sticks in my throat.

 

who knew, that after 20 years, my heart would still pause, and skip with delight?

 

It's not always like that - there are days when my teeth grind into each other and my eyes roll at every comment -  but those days are scarce - sprinkled sparingly amongst the better days.

Really? July was the last time I posted? Wow. My world has been rocked and then some since then...

At the end of September, Kisti, my mom, lost her battle with cancer. She had been fighting it/dealing with it for 13 years. And Oh! how I am so grateful for those years. I really thought I'd be more bereft. I am sad, and I miss her greatly - but it's only in those quiet times, in the middle of the busy times - when I used to call her just to say hi - that tears come to my eyes. My favorite quote right now is Edna St. Vincent Millay: "Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. "

To keep myself sane, I've been doing taekwondo, taking care of my kids, reading, talking with my father. The taekwondo has been most helpful. We have an awesome TKD family - dinners once a week (20+ people), facebooking, coffee. I've been to two more tournaments, (2nd & 3rd in Sparring & Forms, both times). I'm now a blue belt - more than halfway to my Black Belt. This is so much fun. I never thought I'd be in TKD: I never thought I'd like it so damn much.

The kids are growing like weeds. M is 6 going on 21, A is the same, time-oblivious kid, and L is soo soo excited about starting Lacrosse - in a month. Craig & I have started our 21st year together, (OMG!) and we are enjoying our life with the 3 kids, 2 dogs, 2 cats & 12 birds.

I participated in a taekwondo tournament in Kendallville, Indiana this past weekend.  It was so much fun.  I earned two trophies, a first in Sparring, and a second in Forms.  Which is neat - I have never received a trophy for a physical feat before.  (I did get a trophy when I worked at McDonald's back in the 80's.  We got first place in the McDonald's Olympics for Drive-Thru.)  But it was nothing like this.

I was nervous, but not terrified.  When we left the house at 6 a.m.  I had already been up for an hour: getting uniforms ready, gear bags packed, food for the drive, things to do for the drive, etc.  It took about 1 1/2 hours to get to Kendallville (just north of Ft. Wayne).  

The morning was taken with opening ceremonies, Tiny Tiger competition (The Divine Miss M competed - she's 5), and waiting.  Finally, at about 3:15 they called White, Orange & Yellow belts 18 & over.  Kim & I were the last to compete - luckily everyone else was engaged when we went on the floor.  Craig was judging, L was scorekeeping for Master Flotka, Haley, Lindsay and Fletch were competing.  M & A were playing in a corner.  (ack - I was a bit concerned about them, but they're good at keeping themselves amused without hurting anyone - or each other!)  

No one else in our ring had ever been to a tournament before - so that was good.  I was told later it looked like the "ring of moms" - I'm not sure how many of us had kids in the tournament - at least 4 out of the 6.  The judge was patient, and kind, and patient.  (he had to be, poor guy)  I enjoyed doing my form - even though I messed up the last move.  I was most nervous about sparring, although at our level it's just one-steps.  One person acts as the attacker - does 2 moves & stops - and the other person goes through 5-8 defensive steps.  Then the players switch.  So, there is no contact - supposedly :) .

Actually, after we were finished, I was ready for more.   

We watched a lot of others compete.  The third degree (and above) black belts did some weapons-fighting  (so much fun - like hitting each other with pool noodles, but with flair!)  And we watched the judges get to compete.  I'm beginning to understand how things work in TKD.  

Afterwards, we ate at Pizza Hut with a couple of other Lansing-area car-loads.  And then, the long drive home.  

The next tournament is in Fort Wayne, Indiana on Sept. 12.  I will be a camo-belt then, which means real sparring, not one-steps.  I know what I get to do next!  Lots of sparring practice.  

I cannot wait.

Really, how did it get to be the middle of May?   

and my last post was March??  geezlouise.  Guess it's time for some priority setting.   I've been having fun, enjoying life.  Went to Texas for a b

it to see my mama & spend some time with my dear friend Pam.  It was a wonderful, life-affirming time.  I turned 40 while I was there.  (what's up with that??  I don't feel 40.)  

We went to see the Wall between the US & Mexico while we were there.  I really didn't know that they actually started work on that wall.  Really, 

how many Walls-between-countries have ever worked?  One?  and that one was 3,700 miles long 

and had slave labor build it.  I took a few photos (with my cell) of the parts we saw:

  

My purse was stolen on Saturday.  (I'm not looking for commiseration - it was my own fault - I left it in the unlocked car in my driveway.)  It was definitely a not-so-gentle push to look at my life differently.

So, the obvious things: be more responsible.  Put things away, where they belong.  (I'm sure some people will read that and say "well, duh" :)  )  It did force me to clean up a bit - I wanted to make sure that the police officer didn't slip and fall on my dirty laundry, and I wanted to have a clean place to fill out the paperwork.  I was also so upset with myself right after I found out that I did all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.  

I will find a central place to write all important info down.  (and I will re-assess what I mean by important!)  It was difficult to get a replacement debit card without a photo ID; it was also difficult to get my Driver's License renewed with only two pieces of ID. However, the lady at the License place let me renew it early, so I don't have to go back in two months.  Hooray!

The other nice thing that was a result of this is that I got to get a brand new checking/savings account.  Things will be so much easier to keep track of now.  I have a starting balance!  

I wasn't that upset about the physical things that were lost - I liked that purse, and the clicky wallet, and the checkbook made of recycled plastic.  But, I have enough.  If I didn't, I have ways/skills/options to make more money legally.   What would it take to steal something?  How much self-respect would I have to lose?   

I am pissed at those who were responsible.  The deputy said that he's following up on more and more robberies.  He said it was the economy.  I thought it was kids - they missed the iPod, didn't mess with the radio.  But hey, they only got a dollar in my purse.  I am horrified that someone had the audacity to walk up to my  house in the middle of the night!  Calm again because the dogs would never let anything happen to us.  Angry because whoever it was had no reason to do this, and yet, I don't know what baggage they were carrying.  They better not come back though.  It is unsettling.  

That is, actually, the best thing probably, about the whole situation.  To be unsettled = less relaxed, more aware, better prepared.  and I did start Tae Kwon Do today!

These are our first 3 birds.  They are zebra finches, and we got them in August.  (From left to right: Susan, Jack and King Tut)

Not more than a month later, we had eight birds. (Susan laid 5 eggs, and they were all viable!) They are sweet.  They have a chatter/chirp that isn't constant, but it is regular.  At first I thought it would drive me crazy, but it doesn't.  It is very calming - a kind of white noise that I really didn't know I needed until it was there. 

Thursday I was changing their water and I noticed that the perches were all bloody.  It wasn't a lot, but they are birds.  It was King Tut.  His belly was red, but he was fluttering around OK.  So I didn't really give it a second thought.  (This had happened to Susan within the first month, and she was fine the next day). Friday I found King Tut on the bottom of the cage, with his poor little orange feet in the air.  I was all for just chucking him in the trash. Cold, I know - but I really didn't feel like having the conversations with the kids ( that I was SURE we would have) once we told them.  Luckily, my husband saw reason, and placed King Tut in a butter-box and set him outside in the snow.  The two boys were already at school, but my daughter, M, (who is almost 5) was still home.  My husband gently took her onto his lap and said "M, honey, I have some sad news.  King Tut died last night.  Somehow he cut himself, and ended up dying."  M took a deep breath, her eyes were wet and bright, and sighed.  She said "OK, on the next sunny day, Mama will get a shovel, Daddy will bring the flowers, the boys will help me carry King Tut, and we'll sing him a song and bury him."  Then she hopped off C's lap and said "Mama, are you ready to go to school yet?"  

I really don't know where she came from.  (grin)  I'm glad she's the way she is, though.  And it's not just tragedy that makes her start making lists & delegating.  Today we were talking about how close Christmas is, and she started "we need to get the ornaments out - do you know where those are Mama? - and then the stockings.  And we need to frost cookies." and so on.  sigh.  I am going to frustrate her -  Poor girl.  I just barrel ahead and do stuff, I don't think of a logical progression.  (which is probably why I'm so tired all of the time.)  It's more of a "oh, and I should do this" and then I do, which reminds me of something else, which reminds me of something else... etc. 

***

Yesterday I went to a cookie swap.  I made toffee.  Mmmmm.  Ya know, you really can't go wrong with 2 lbs. of butter, and 2 lbs. of sugar topped with melted chocolate chips.  (some of it had pecans in/on it) .  I came home with some marvelous cookies as well.    I need to learn some photography skills.  

***

I've been making felted flowers and then beading them.  OMG so much fun!  I take 100% wool sweaters (that I get from the Goodwill) and wash them in hot water, then throw them in the dryer, cut them into flower shapes and then bead the stamens.  I've made them into pins.  Then I've  made a few stuffed animals - a mouse, a Totoro (Japanese wood spirit), a pig, a cat, etc.  I had to take books back to the library UNREAD because I was having so much fun with the needle work that I didn't have time to read.  The kids have been working with me.  I'll try to set up some kind of photo booth so I can post pics.  I've been toying with the idea of setting up an Etsy shop.  (Have you been to Etsy?  So.much.fun.)  My friend Debbie has a shop  here:

She uses a similar technique, but I'm not sure if she has any flowers on her site. 

How can it be December already?  I guess I've been caught in the crush of kids-going-to-school, grocery shopping, and house-cleaning.  (can't wait to read more about my exciting life, huh?)  

My parents drove up in October from Brownsville, Texas.  They brought their cat, Stella, in the back of the camper.  My mom is doing well - this chemo is less toxic.  Her hair has grown back, her strength is back.  We had a blast while she was here.  (They never stay long enough.)  grin. I did put my dad to work - he built a mesquite counter top for us.  So pretty.  (and so useful.  The kids just love sitting "at the bar".)   

(SOAPBOX)  I just have to scream for a moment.  My parents are 64 (too young for Medicare), have no insurance, & a limited income (made even more limited by the recent stock market woes) - but not limited enough for Medicaid.  In order to get the best price on a port (for her chemo) my mom had to shop around at hospitals for the best price.  A port (so that they don't need to poke her veins each time) costs $11,000 if you have insurance - she got them down to $3,000.  Of course, that does not include the physician, the lab work,  or the anesthesia.  It makes me so angry that she had to shop around for something that was integral to her care.  Sigh.  (end SOAPBOX)

But...  in the interest of full disclosure, her sister  had a fund-raiser for her that contributed; and her church also had a fund-raiser, so this one is covered.  It still makes me angry. 

+++

I decided this year that I needed to pull back a bit - to tighten my circle of concern.  Mostly because I was worried about my mom and I felt I wasn't giving enough attention to my family.  Also because I was giving giving giving, and not taking any time for myself.  So, I took a leave of absence from the school board; I am not volunteering in the kids' classes; I'm taking Pilates at the YMCA.  It's working very well.  I have time to cook.  I've been going Crazy with needle-felting/recycling sweaters into flowers and stuffed animals.  I've been spending WAY too much time on the internet.   I wish I could find some sort of balance, but maybe this is the way.  

+++

Last week we went to Wisconsin for a family reunion.  It was lovely.  

(It's not often that those two terms, family reunion and lovely are used in the same sentence.)

We were celebrating my grandfather's 93rd birthday.  He was born in 1915.  

The cottages were old, and fairly well cared for - linoleum tiles on the walls

 (baby blue and dark brown in the kitchen, yellow and red in the bath), kno

tty pine cupboards and trim, gawd-awful beds with fitted sheets that didn't hold, and feather pillows with no support. I'd go back in a minute though. It was so nice to live in that leave-it-to-beaver kind of way - I'd send L to my aunt's house to get coffee, or butter. We'd take turns feeding the lot of us (15-20) at our respective cabins and then sit around and ask my grandfather questions about his early life.  The kids and I sent him a book called "me and My grandfather" or something like that. It has lots of questions followed by blank pages to write in. we learned how he met my grandmother, (during a stomach surgery - she was a student nurse, he was a resident), their first date (in which they both held down a patient during electric-shock therapy), where he proposed to her (the garden of a mental hospital), why he decided to be a doctor, pranks he pulled. It was very very fun. 

As my mom is dealing with cancer and the bitter aftermath of chemo, she couldn't come to the reunion. (too many germs for her suppressed immune system) So it was bitter-sweet to spend time with her sisters without her there. My mom has 4 sisters - I did get to look at each one and appre

ciate those parts of them that are like and not-like my mom. I really am so lucky to know (and be related to) so many interesting people.

 and my girl-cousins were there, and they are wonderful and supportive and huggy, which is just what I needed. (one brother, and a few boy cousins were also there. They too are huggable, and creative, and super cool - gives me hope)

My kids loved spending time with those relatives.  M fell in love with my aunt Sara.  It came as no surprise, as Sara and M are cut from similar cloth: the youngest, very girly-girls.  My aunt looks a bit older than me, but not much.  She's fit, tan, and dresses the part.  She and M were squealing over in the corner about being twins (they both had lip-shaped band-aids on), being the babies, etc.  Sara said, “M, you'll have to come visit me”  and a little while later, M came over to me and said “I have a new Mama now.  You can come visit us.”  and she was serious!  When we finally figured out that M was planning on moving to Colorado (she is only 4!) it took us awhile to talk her down.  So funny/cute/etc.  

We came back home through the Upper Peninsula.  What beautiful country!  I can see why I-27/I-75 is packed every Friday.  Who wouldn't want to run away to that?  

About two years ago, I visited an art gallery with my mom. (The Peachbelt Schoolhouse Studio Gallery near Saugatuck, MI www.peachbeltstudiogallery.com ) I was so moved by the artwork there I spent the drive home scribbling on the back of an envelope. (Yes, I was the only one in the car, and I was driving.) It's taken me two years to get up enough nerve to send the poem those scribbles turned into to the artist (Dawn Stafford), but I did, and she answered! So cool. And I'm so glad I did. Here it is:

++++++++++++++++++++++++
For Dawn Stafford

Schoolhouse Solace

I stood in the middle of the schoolhouse, looking at Vineyard Grapes V and was lost in them for a moment –

Felt sunlight dapple my arm

(As it must have yours

in that vineyard on that afternoon others might call lazy )

Could hear a fly, or a bee

Perhaps,

Buzzing around the dead fruit,

or your hair

Pausing on your shoulder

To look at the full dusky purpleness

I can only imagine your intention –

Never before have I wanted to speak so eloquently about work – not to define it, but to communicate how my spirit soars in recognition of the moment/light/image you've captured.

I look at the painting and my soul shouts yes yes yes! – that is it – I've been there.

dappled in sunlight

I'm not convinced that the magic lies in your schoolhouse. One look at the walls and how they work so well with your art; the flowers outside, the placement of pen and flyers and small studies of the larger work–the magic is in you – your ability to look at yourself

lay open for others that bare spot so vulnerable, raw and say

This is What I See. This is Who I Am –

it is beautiful and strong and so what I long for.

I so wanted to put my hand on your shoulder, reassure you that taking time for yourself, time to recharge, renew – is all important. You are right to do that. Right to take care of yourself. You can't keep giving so much of yourself to your paintings without caring for you. There won't be anything left.

It has been so long since words have forced their way out onto paper for me. I spent the entire ride home trying to capture them, trying to look out the window of my car and see what you see, trying to make sense of how those paintings rocked my world.

I feel like I'm breathing through wet wool. I'm tired of coughing. Every exhale is an imminent cough. I can ignore the tickle for awhile, but then the urge to cough overpowers and my back & neck muscles tense up and the cough racks my body.

It's at times like these that I think of making my life easier. I barely have enough energy to make it downstairs, much less cook breakfast. And then, during one of my many naps today I dreamed that I was in WalMart. (For the record, I hate WalMart with a passion. The one here smells mildewy and most things are made in Vietnam or Korea. And I don't really want to fund the Sam Walton family's life.) At any rate, I was actually shopping at WalMart in my dream. So, when I woke up, I went. We needed bread anyway, and it was right there. UGH. If I wanted to make life easier though, I would go there. It wasn't as bad as I had remembered. (they've remodeled, and the smell isn't there anymore.) It was crowded, but every grocery is on Saturday anyway. The thing that struck me was the prices. It really was cheaper. If I wanted to relax my standards a bit, I could probably save an awful lot of money by going there on a regular basis. BUT... It is important to me to support my locally-owned businesses. I like knowing where my money is going. I like to know that some of my money will be reinvested in the community, somehow, someway. Yes, some of my money that I spent at WalMart today will go into the pockets of those who work there. Small comfort.
I really enjoy the small business owners I know. (Linda, Laura, Scott, Aura, Janice, John, etc) And I give them a lot of credit for doing what they do. It is worth a few more dollars to support them and reinforce that sense of community.

****

Just finished reading The Bone People by Keri Hulmes. Beautiful, poetic, and stirring.

There's something about the lick of a cat

rough and gentle

that speaks of quiet nights and peace.

(Even though I hate the sight of that cat,

she's old and mean and doesn't like to cuddle.)

There are times when she pretends well – acts

like one would expect a cat to act, and yet

at that last second.

The split before your hand reaches the back of her neck

the pretense shattered, your hand touches nothing.

And so, each day. You'd think I'd learn

the cat doesn't like to be touched.

Yet I try, I get sucked into the calmness that surrounds

a sleeping cat

Teased by burnished black fur, glossy under the overhead light,

lulled into believing that this once, she'll capitulate.

Such is the curse of eternal optimism. Even the rats in the maze; even Pavlov

was successful in teaching his dogs the meaning of repetition.

Here I am, stuck in the endless loop of choosing to believe the best,

even from an old black cat that hates the world. Lucky for me she doesn't have claws.

Our Weekend:

Saturday we headed down to Cobo Hall for the North American International Auto Show. It was fun. The kids enjoyed themselves and we did too. People were very kind, not pushy or rude (which I've come to expect with large numbers of people). The guy who took our tickets warned me against the high prices of the food inside.

The people-watching was incredible. All walks of life, all countries, lots of kids, tired moms & dads, dreaming teenagers. We sat down in a side hallway to share a bottle of water ($3!!!!) and a protein bar (between the 5 of us). This guy came up & said "I wish I had a camera - this is what life is about! Everyone sharing. What a beautiful picture." So nice.

Sunday:

Ugh. my arms/fingers are asleep/tingly this morning. Guess I carried M too long on my shoulders yesterday. (Large groups of people + an interested 4 year old = frantic mom-state.) it was easier for my heart to keep her up on my shoulders. (We did write our cell phone numbers on all three kids with a permanent marker in case we got separated. A & M loved their "tattoos".)


Cirque de Soleil (Saltimbanco) was delightful. I had the most fun watching M & A watch the show. We were on the main floor, in the back row, so the dancers/acrobats (I'm not sure what to call them) walked by us often. One in a pink dress patted M's hair for about 30 seconds or so. M was in heaven! Then C's coat had fallen off the back of the chair & another clown came up & put it over his head. Good for another couple of giggles from my kids. L was on the other side of C, so I didn't see his reaction to most of it, but M & A were all over my lap, and their two chairs. I was thankful we didn't have anyone behind us.

Gee, I am so lucky. We have had a tremendous weekend. I really do love my family, even if they aren't exactly sure where dirty dishes go... (that silver thing, with the water spout, in the kitchen? It would be the sink, kids.)

They were excellent travelers for the 3 hour round trips (both days!) And we only watched one DVD.

The blight of downtown Detroit makes me sad. (at least what we could see from the highway) So many burned out buildings, boarded up houses, closed down stores. A lot of fanciful names though: The Victory Social Club; The Pentacostal (sic) Church in Christ (founder, Samantha Bullet); my favorite building - I've never been in - King's Used Books. (OK, so that last one wasn't very fanciful, but when I see it, I know I'm close to Joe Louis Arena.)

The Day After...

OK, so really it's the day after the day after, but why be picky?

The organizer wasn't as scary as I'd anticipated. She was oh-so-helpful (really) and very calm & collected about the whole house.

J (the organizer) handed me a pad of paper & a pen and we started walking through the house. She gave me ideas about how to tackle each closet and room. (Move this clothes-bar, install hooks for the kids, move the boots to this side, take off the door) And ideas of where to purchase the needed items. She also noted empty bookshelves and dressers and where they could be used elsewhere in the house. (who knew I had 3 empty dressers and 4 bookshelves to play with?) I followed with my pen & paper, taking copious notes and explaining my "organizational style". (those who know me well realize that I don't really have an organizational style...)

J gave me ideas for games to play with the kids to get them to do their part in the cleanup of the house, and a structure to do so. (Choose a time an hour before bed, set the timer for 20 minutes, give everyone a basket for their stuff & yell "go!" Race to get everything off the floor and PUT AWAY IN IT'S PROPER PLACE before the timer goes off. ) I mean, gee, that's a great idea, why can't I think of these things? I can think of 50 different things to make out of popsicle sticks, but I can't think of a way to get kids to pick up their socks. Sigh.

She also looked at my huge storage area (i.e. the basement!) and gave me ideas for that too. Then we tackled the room in the basement that could be a game room, but needed all the toys off of the floor first. While we were cleaning that room, we found two of the ORGANIZER's business cards - I had picked them up a different times thinking I'd call her - and a book at the very bottom of all the toys entitled Confessions of an Organized Homemaker.

Well now, most of my books are on shelves (oh so pretty!) and the games are on their own shelves, and there's space on the floor, and we found the loveseat. I have a plan for each room, and ideas of how to attack them. Now if only I could find some way to live on 4 hours of sleep...

The organizer is coming! The organizer is coming!

OH SH*T, the organizer is coming.

I am approaching this with joy, and reservation. I crave order, simplicity, starkness; but I am afraid. Not of her judging me, because I know no one is harsher than I am about that! I'm afraid of what I'll learn about myself. Can I let the "stuff" go? What will happen to me once it's gone?
Will I be able to maintain? How many hours beyond the 3 1/2 I'm alloted will she have to be here?

She said not to clean before she comes. She needs to see how we use & don't use the space. I'm all aflutter. Since she said not to clean, I've had the biggest cleaning jones. Is that all I need? Someone to tell me not to do something, so I'll do it. The Reverse-Psychology Institute.

So, since she told me not to clean, I've been playing this week. On Monday, at the MSU Surplus I found a stack of vinyl records in the "free" pile. I took them home (yeah, I know, I am trying to git rid of stuff!) and looked up info on the web about making bowls from records. 200 degrees in the oven for 5-10 minutes, then form over whatever shape you like. Oh my. They look terrific and it is so fun! I've made some trays, some shallow bowls, some plant-pot-covers, and the beginnings of a purse. Now I have to figure out how to seal the labels, and sew in a lining in the purse - well, and a handle.

I also gave away 3 pieces of fabric from my stash.

Maybe getting rid of all this stuff will help get the rest of my life going. What-ever-it-is I'm doing next. I can only hope. and clean. and prepare for it.

Cleaning and the New Year

L went to a friend's house for a birthday party today. I drove him over, went up to the door like a good mom, and peeked in the house. Oh my. My resolution this year is to be happy with what I have. I should have waited to make that resolution.

The walk was shoveled, they had Christmas decorations outside. The door opened to reveal a foyer, with halls on both sides of the wide staircase, The dining room table was dust-free, and shining. The thing that struck me was There was nothing on the stairs or the floors. This place was beautiful, and clean, and everything had a place. Obviously, they don't have pets, or children under 10. But oh, how I long for a room without stuff on the floor.

We have too much stuff. Too many books, too many toys, too many clothes. I know that. I know that I buy too much as well. Last year I gave 20 bags of stuff to Goodwill. I have two boxes of books ready to go in the next shipment. Oh, it is so hard to get rid of books. Like a junkie, I get a little shaky at the thought of fewer books around me. I haven't read every one, and I probably won't. So what's with this irrational desire to keep them, stroke them, need them? Oh Buddha mind, don't fail me now! I need to keep the lesson of impermance up front & centered.

And still, that siren Amazon calls.(well, emails at any rate) And the local bookstore (Schuler's) and I'm swayed by the call of QPB (free books!) and the emails from Barnes & Noble's. Somehow, I can't say no. This is my year of enough! I shall use the library, I shall get rid of 2 books for every one I bring in.


I do have an appointment with a personal organizer. I cannot wait. Somedays I just want to call for a dumpster. I get bogged down with the idea that I should be a steward for some of this stuff - preserve it for future generations, or at least my brothers, or cousins, or children. And then the headaches set in, and the clenched teeth & aching jaws.

What I need is an older sister to come in and clean up. C gets upset because I don't put things away; well, sometimes they don't have a place. Sometimes I get tired of being the designated place-finder. Sometimes I'm just too tired from cleaning up messes that other people make, that I just can't find the energy.

Today I was going to change my name. If I heard "Maaaammaaa" ONE.MORE.TIME. I was going to scream. How hard is it to walk around and find me? I haven't left the kitchen for more that 10 mintues today, and that was to either go to the laundry room or the rest room. Grrrr.

Wow. Time for some tea, methinks. Relax those jaw muscles, put my feet up, watch some brainless TV. (of course, there are dishes in the sink, dirt on the floor, laundry to fold...) sigh.

I am reading Kate Maloy's Every Last Cuckoo and enjoying it immensely!

A Great Deal of Life is Attitude-

If we have much or little,

its been wisely said that we don't

own a thing but our names.

Everything else is on loan,

and there is only today.

--So pick from this day, at nightfall,

every joyful story,

every beautiful face,

every crumb of understanding,

--roll them up and climb into bed

and rejoice!
~Harriet Beckwith
(my grandmother)

We had Thanksgiving dinner today with our friends Amy & Carla & their kids. It wasn't much different from any other night we eat dinner together - delicious food, good friends, a place to feel comfortable. We didn't even talk about what we were thankful for, or say grace or anything. (Not that any of us subscribe to an organized religion. At least, not that I know of)

BUT I'm not criticizing, please please don't take it that way. It was delightful. I don't know exactly what it is that makes me so happy when our families are together. Everything seems to work - we can take over from one another in almost any situation. I've never had friends like them. I am so so thankful that they are part of my life; of my family's life.

And boy, am I thankful for that dinner - I won't need to eat until the real Thanksgiving now!

Isn't it funny though - today my dad emailed me the snippet from my grandmother. He's been going through his notebooks (he writes every day and has for YEARS) and he found that in a note from her. She was a wonderful woman, and I'm glad I got to know her so well. I miss her every day. She died 11 years ago next week. I still have dreams that I'm at her house, and she's just in the next room. I try and try to find her; to introduce her to the kids; to give her a hug, but I always just miss her. I can smell her in my dreams though - Paloma Picasso perfume, a little baby powder. I think of her when I comb my daughter's hair - it's the same fine, soft stuff. I hear her when I cook, when I have a cup of tea, when I'm getting a little manic trying to do everything all at once. She was a great one for living in the moment, but learning from the past.

Wow, 11 years - that is a lifetime ago. (My son's lifetime, at any rate!) She was one of my best teachers; one of my best friends. That's what I'm going to roll up tonight. Time to climb into bed...

I sat in that room listening, the fire blazing, my heart full. Have you ever been in a place where you knew you belonged? A place that you had been waiting for? Been with a group of people who made your soul vibrate?

All last week I anticipated that meeting - a few, concerned educators trying to figure out how to best help/teach kids. People who are so tired of fighting the system - we know what works. Now we have to figure out how to do that without starving ourselves and our families. I was so worried that the meeting wouldn't live up to my expectations; that I'd blown the whole idea out of proportion; that others wouldn't have the same kind of dream that I have. All that worry was for naught.

There is something about kindred spirits - when we find each other, we KNOW. You remember that bubbly feeling of Possibility when you start a new relationship? It was there. The passion was palpable in that room. I looked around the circle and thought: Do I want to do this? With these people? Do I want to argue, orate, cry, laugh, scream, dance, work, and cry with these people? (I cry a lot) The answer was Hell yes! and Yes! and Yes! again. I have been waiting for so long. I am humbled. I am excited. I know there is a TON of work to do, and I cannot wait.

My mom & I were talking about seeing people in extreme poverty, or people who have repeatedly made poor choices, or people with that "victim" attitude and we were wondering how to deal with it. What can we do to help, if anything? Is this a situation where we let Faith take over, recognizing that they chose (in a metaphysical way) that path this time? But that doesn't erase the need to be compassionate, does it? I mean, I can't just turn my back on them & say "well, that's the life they chose". I know me, and I know that I'd want to do something. (at least help teach them how to chose differently!) But then again, I don't want to be sucked into that victim-void either. I wish I could see the Big Picture sometimes, just for a second.

The reasons why people behave the way they do seems to keep reappearing in my life. I had a boss who used to say "Everybody wants to be Somebody, Nobody wants to be a Nobody" and that's why people behave the way they do.

Somehow, some way, everyone needs to be noticed - needs that acknowledgement that they aren't in a void.

Another theory I really like is from the book Helping Kids Help Themselves by E. Perry Good. This theory is that people behave in order to fill their needs, specifically Love, Power, Fun & Freedom. (Love can mean acceptance, Power can mean control, and freedom can be the freedom to choose.) I've seen this work well, and often, I've forgotten to take that moment, that deep breath just before yelling, and remember that my kids aren't behaving just to piss me off. For example, my middle son had a complete meltdown in the car before we even left school today. He was screaming and red-faced-angry. Finally I got out of him that he had been picked on most of the day today by a certain kid. We talked about strategies (he'd used most of the ones we had talked about last time) and he seemed to calm down a bit. Of course, his little sister was sitting in the very back seat, just trying to push his buttons all the way home. (grr) Once we got home, I thought he might need some control over his life, so I gave him some choices. He decided to help me with dinner, setting the table, cutting up veggies. (Yeah, great idea Lysne, give the angry 7-year -old a knife...) He was fine though, and was much calmer during & after dinner than I've seen him in days.

Ya know, it works even better when I remember to look at my own behavior/needs before I let the kids get to me. If I can find a place to hide - the bathroom, under the stairs, in the closet - and take quick stock of what I'm missing right then (Love), I can address it (Honey, can I get a hug?) and then be on a more even keel. Perhaps even remembering to look at behaviors... and not taking things personally.