The Son of Never Stops Eating went to his first school dance, and he liked it.
He told me that it was okay to mention that he went to the dance as long as I made it clear that he was not going to the dance because there were girls there; he was going to the dance to see his friends and eat pizza, and those were the only two reasons he was going anywhere near that dance. He emphasized this several times, so I wanted to get that out up front. The possibility that girls would be present at the dance was in no way a determining factor in his decision to attend.
Also, he was not going to dress up or even put on a clean shirt, and he saw no reason to freshen up by brushing his teeth or combing his hair. He'd already done all that once that day, apparently, and there was no need to do it again. His preparations consisted of putting his shoes on and getting in the car.
I took him to the school and walked in with him so I could find out how much the pizza was going to cost per slice. I figured that I was probably going to end up buying at least one entire pizza, so I was prepared to fork over some significant cash. I was actually somewhat in shock that he'd even expressed any interest in crossing the threshold of the middle school when it wasn't actually required of him. I kept expecting him to say he'd changed his mind and he wanted to go home, but he didn't.
I found out how much pizza was going to be ($1 per slice: very reasonable) and I handed over some cash. He looked at it, said "Thanks, Mom; don't worry, I won't lose it", stuck it in his pocket, and walked into the cafeteria where the dance was being held. He didn't even say good-bye to his mother.
Let me tell you, I almost wanted to cry.
Actually, I had to resist the very strong temptation to run after him, hug him, and tell him to have a good time and then plant a huge, embarrassing mom kiss on his cheek (I would have said forehead, but I can't actually reach that anymore). I couldn't believe that he'd just walked away from me. So much for Mom! Now I know where I stand in the overall scheme of things: I am the provider of transportation and pizza money.
When he was first diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, way back when he was in kindergarten, I sat in my car after the conversation with the school diagnostician and I wept. I would watch him screaming his head off for some reason I could not discern, or see how he was falling developmentally behind other kids his age, and I would think, this is my life. He will never have friends. He'll never do anything for himself. He'll never learn to read, or dress himself, or go out in public without having a meltdown. This is what it will be like forever. It will never be any different than it is now, and I'm not sure that I can do it.
Other, more experienced, parents would tell me no, it will get better, you'll see. Go ahead and cry and grieve for what you are thinking you have lost, and you'll get on with life because you really don't have much of a choice and then you'll look up one day and realize that you are making it work. But I wasn't ready to hear it yet.
It never actually occurred to me that one day I'd be standing outside the middle school by myself, feeling a little old and awkward, after handing over a fortune in pizza cash to a six-foot tall almost 14 year old who was voluntarily going to a school dance to see his friends and eat pizza (but not dance with girls), all by himself. The kid who once wouldn't let me out of his sight had just walked away from me without looking back.
I may or may not have shed a few tears when I got back to my car. This time around, they would have been happy tears.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Friday, October 28, 2016
Halloween Colors
For the past few weeks, butterflies have been migrating through my neck of the woods. It's been a spectacular show, and I've had a great time observing them and getting some pictures. It seems that orange and black is a common theme among these butterflies- almost as if Nature is putting out her Halloween decorations for us to appreciate. Unlike snakes or spiders, it's hard to find someone who doesn't at least like butterflies.
The other day, a lone monarch found its way to our front yard. My son ran in the house to find me, wanting to show me "our" butterfly. We went back outside and watched it as it clung to a leaf for awhile. He took a picture of it with his iPad. Eventually it flew off. I was excited to see that he was excited about his butterfly observation.
You might notice that most of the butterflies are on a purple plant called marsh fleabane. This year, there were large patches of it near one of my favorite trails, and the butterflies were going crazy for it. For a couple of weeks in early to mid October, I could just stand in that spot and watch the monarchs, Gulf fritillaries, and queen butterflies fly from plant to plant. The monarchs moved on, but the red admirals are coming through, and the Gulf fritillaries, variegated fritillaries, and viceroys are still around.
I enjoy Halloween, especially the spooky decorated houses and the Trick or Treaters coming through on Halloween night to acquire their loot, but I have a special appreciation for these lovely butterflies.
Happy Halloween! May you have a spooky, fantastic day!
The other day, a lone monarch found its way to our front yard. My son ran in the house to find me, wanting to show me "our" butterfly. We went back outside and watched it as it clung to a leaf for awhile. He took a picture of it with his iPad. Eventually it flew off. I was excited to see that he was excited about his butterfly observation.
You might notice that most of the butterflies are on a purple plant called marsh fleabane. This year, there were large patches of it near one of my favorite trails, and the butterflies were going crazy for it. For a couple of weeks in early to mid October, I could just stand in that spot and watch the monarchs, Gulf fritillaries, and queen butterflies fly from plant to plant. The monarchs moved on, but the red admirals are coming through, and the Gulf fritillaries, variegated fritillaries, and viceroys are still around.
I enjoy Halloween, especially the spooky decorated houses and the Trick or Treaters coming through on Halloween night to acquire their loot, but I have a special appreciation for these lovely butterflies.
 |
| Fiery skipper |
 |
| Gulf fritillary |
 |
| Viceroy |
 |
| Monarch |
 |
| Phaon Crescent |
 |
| Queen butterfly |
 |
| Red admiral |
Happy Halloween! May you have a spooky, fantastic day!
Monday, October 24, 2016
Didn't I Just Do This?
Didn't we just have Halloween? Back in 2015?
I know, it's 2016. An entire year has gone by. However, when I put up the decorations outside my house (don't get excited and start looking for pictures of lavish exterior decor; by "decorations" what I'm really referring to are the two pumpkins I bought at the grocery store last week) I kept thinking, didn't we just have pumpkins out here? Or was that some kind of dream?
My offspring are at the ages at which the question "Are you going to go Trick or Treating?" is a complicated one. First, there's the age-old debate of "What age is too old to go Trick or Treating?" If there is an actual cutoff age, my kids are both probably past it. However, since my personal parenting philosophy can probably best be described as "If it doesn't involve filing an insurance claim, I'm going to try not to stress out too much about it", I don't see it as a question worth having angst over. They'll know when they're too old.
Second, when I asked the question of the Teenager, I got this response: "Mom, I can't; I have band practice! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll) and then I have to come home and do my physics homework! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll #2)". So I took that as a no, at least for the moment. I thought about suggesting that she could go Trick or Treating as a marching band clarinet player just home from practice, but I know when to keep my mom ideas to myself.
The Son of Never Stops Eating was far more enthusiastic about the idea. Free food! What's not to like about that? However, there was the matter of his costume to resolve.
A few years ago I made him a Lorax costume. Just in case you might be thinking I actually did something crafty, I will clarify: I sewed two pieces of orange fleece together and cut holes for his head and his arms. Then I went to Target and bought a bright orange wig. When I presented it to him for the first time, he looked at it dubiously and then said "Mom, I don't think anyone will know I'm the Lorax".
Don't worry about it, I told him. Just tell them you speak for the trees.
When I made this costume, the fleece tunic was too big for him. Now, I suspect it might reach somewhere mid-thigh. I haven't had him try it on yet, but I'm hoping we can get one more year out of it. Otherwise, I'll have to get clever and do something like locate one of his Special Olympics swimming medals, hang it around his neck and have him tell people he's an Olympian. If I can find five or six medals, he can be Michael Phelps.
However, it really seems like just last year that the Teenager wanted to be a princess or a ballerina or a butterfly (or a princess ballerina butterfly- why limit yourself?) and the Son of Never Stops Eating's Lorax costume reached below his knees.
Perhaps it's because I have a birthday rapidly approaching, but every year at this time, I start feeling like some great cosmic force is pressing the fast-forward button on my life. Didn't I just buy Halloween candy? Didn't I just go to the dentist? Didn't we just start marching band season, and now it's almost over? Didn't I just have a birthday, after which I set up all these great goals I was going to accomplish before the next October, so I could look back on my year and say "I ran that marathon! I finally finished crocheting that granny square blanket! I redecorated my sunroom! I signed up for that yoga class!". Instead, I'm looking back on the past year thinking, hey, at least I finally got around to scheduling a mammogram!
A year ago it seemed like a year was a long time; twelve months in which many great deeds would be accomplished. Now I'm sitting here, thinking, didn't we just take down our Christmas tree a few months ago? When did summer end?
Perhaps that's why I'm resisting telling the offspring that Trick or Treat is no more; as I become increasingly aware every year how fast time is passing, I am reluctant to speed up time for the offspring, even as the Lorax costume gets smaller and Princess Ballerina Butterfly has morphed into a sleep-deprived teenager with band practice and too much homework. Their own clocks will begin fast-forward soon enough.
Meanwhile, I'm wrestling with the fact that, although I feel like I just finished Christmas shopping, it's time to start making the list all over again.
I know, it's 2016. An entire year has gone by. However, when I put up the decorations outside my house (don't get excited and start looking for pictures of lavish exterior decor; by "decorations" what I'm really referring to are the two pumpkins I bought at the grocery store last week) I kept thinking, didn't we just have pumpkins out here? Or was that some kind of dream?
My offspring are at the ages at which the question "Are you going to go Trick or Treating?" is a complicated one. First, there's the age-old debate of "What age is too old to go Trick or Treating?" If there is an actual cutoff age, my kids are both probably past it. However, since my personal parenting philosophy can probably best be described as "If it doesn't involve filing an insurance claim, I'm going to try not to stress out too much about it", I don't see it as a question worth having angst over. They'll know when they're too old.
Second, when I asked the question of the Teenager, I got this response: "Mom, I can't; I have band practice! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll) and then I have to come home and do my physics homework! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll #2)". So I took that as a no, at least for the moment. I thought about suggesting that she could go Trick or Treating as a marching band clarinet player just home from practice, but I know when to keep my mom ideas to myself.
The Son of Never Stops Eating was far more enthusiastic about the idea. Free food! What's not to like about that? However, there was the matter of his costume to resolve.
A few years ago I made him a Lorax costume. Just in case you might be thinking I actually did something crafty, I will clarify: I sewed two pieces of orange fleece together and cut holes for his head and his arms. Then I went to Target and bought a bright orange wig. When I presented it to him for the first time, he looked at it dubiously and then said "Mom, I don't think anyone will know I'm the Lorax".
Don't worry about it, I told him. Just tell them you speak for the trees.
When I made this costume, the fleece tunic was too big for him. Now, I suspect it might reach somewhere mid-thigh. I haven't had him try it on yet, but I'm hoping we can get one more year out of it. Otherwise, I'll have to get clever and do something like locate one of his Special Olympics swimming medals, hang it around his neck and have him tell people he's an Olympian. If I can find five or six medals, he can be Michael Phelps.
However, it really seems like just last year that the Teenager wanted to be a princess or a ballerina or a butterfly (or a princess ballerina butterfly- why limit yourself?) and the Son of Never Stops Eating's Lorax costume reached below his knees.
Perhaps it's because I have a birthday rapidly approaching, but every year at this time, I start feeling like some great cosmic force is pressing the fast-forward button on my life. Didn't I just buy Halloween candy? Didn't I just go to the dentist? Didn't we just start marching band season, and now it's almost over? Didn't I just have a birthday, after which I set up all these great goals I was going to accomplish before the next October, so I could look back on my year and say "I ran that marathon! I finally finished crocheting that granny square blanket! I redecorated my sunroom! I signed up for that yoga class!". Instead, I'm looking back on the past year thinking, hey, at least I finally got around to scheduling a mammogram!
A year ago it seemed like a year was a long time; twelve months in which many great deeds would be accomplished. Now I'm sitting here, thinking, didn't we just take down our Christmas tree a few months ago? When did summer end?
Perhaps that's why I'm resisting telling the offspring that Trick or Treat is no more; as I become increasingly aware every year how fast time is passing, I am reluctant to speed up time for the offspring, even as the Lorax costume gets smaller and Princess Ballerina Butterfly has morphed into a sleep-deprived teenager with band practice and too much homework. Their own clocks will begin fast-forward soon enough.
Meanwhile, I'm wrestling with the fact that, although I feel like I just finished Christmas shopping, it's time to start making the list all over again.
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Phone Photography
When I'm not working at my real job (the one where I get paid) or volunteering in the band concession stand, or chauffeuring adolescents to activities, my favorite activity is wandering around the nature preserve and taking pictures with my iPhone.
I have many reasons why I use my iPhone instead of a "real camera". First, I enjoy the challenge. Second, it's' a lot easier to carry around a phone than lugging around a lot of equipment. Third, I have two teenagers who like to eat (a lot), and my grocery bill is astronomical. I can't afford a camera; I'm lucky to get Starbucks once a week. I admit that when I'm out on the trail and I see photographers with their high-end equipment getting some fantastic shots, the little green envy monster rears its ugly head for a few moments, but then I'm distracted by something cool and out comes the iPhone.
I've learned a few things about nature iPhone photography that I am passing on to you, in case you are tempted to try a little iPhone nature photography yourself.
1. Lighting is everything. If you can get in good light, your pictures will look better. Experiment with your phone and the natural light and figure out what works for you.
2. Watch out for snakes. I'm not kidding. Not because I am afraid of snakes- I like snakes. But I also don't want to get bitten by a copperhead while trying to get a picture of something else.
3. Start out by taking pictures of things that don't move, like plants or fungi, especially if you are just getting started with iPhone nature photography. You can take all the time you want to practice with your phone. When something is stationary, you can experiment with what angles work best, how to get a focused shot up close, and maybe even get a little artistic.
4. Be zen with nature. I know this might sound a little weird, but I think the critters pick up on your vibes. If you're calm and patient, you will have success.
5. The time of day can have an effect on your results. I've gotten some good pictures of dragonflies in the early morning while they are still settled on a branch.
6. Accept the limitations of the technology. For example, I will never get a picture of a belted kingfisher with my phone. When you see something good and you know it isn't going to work, just be in the moment.
7. Take a lot of pictures. If they aren't any good, you can delete them. When you get home, you might be surprised at what you get- and the more pictures you take, the better you will get at it.
8. Lesson learned the hard way: Make sure you charge your phone before heading out onto the trail.
9. Don't compare your pictures to others' in a negative way. My personal philosophy is that it's all about the process- hiking, being outside, learning about the natural world by observation. My iPhone pictures aren't as good as a professional photographer's, but I enjoy taking them, and I enjoy finding plants, animals and fungi to take pictures of. When I do get a good shot, I'm excited about it.
10. Be prepared to branch out depending on the opportunities offered. If it has just rained, I'm out looking for fungi- but if I see a butterfly, I'm going to see if I can get a picture of it. You never know what will cross your path. A few weeks ago, I was walking down a trail. and right in front of me was a very colorful stump stabber depositing its eggs into a tree. Did I get a picture of it? You bet I did, even though I actually didn't know what it was doing when I took the picture (ovipositing).
11. Don't be afraid to change your angle by getting down on the ground or even standing on your tiptoes to get a picture. Just be aware of what you're doing and where you are. I once got down on the ground to get a picture of some moss and when I stood up, my son pointed to a plant that was right where I'd been and said "Hey, Mom, isn't that poison ivy?"
12. Learn a little about the habits of the critters you are trying to capture- when are they most active? What do they like to eat? Do they like swampy areas, or bright sun? Will they possibly bite you if you get too close?
13. Get on iNaturalist and share your observations with the rest of us. When you keep a record of your observations you'll start noticing patterns that help plan future iPhone photography excursions. I noticed that my own photography got much better once I started sharing it.
I think people are often intimidated by the idea of getting out into nature (Snakes! Spiders!). When you don't know a lot about wildlife, the idea of going for a hike can be daunting. When you take that first nature iPhone shot, you might feel that it pales in comparison to others'. Soon, though, you'll find that you are getting into the moment, enjoying the outdoors, learning about the natural world, and having a great time.
I have many reasons why I use my iPhone instead of a "real camera". First, I enjoy the challenge. Second, it's' a lot easier to carry around a phone than lugging around a lot of equipment. Third, I have two teenagers who like to eat (a lot), and my grocery bill is astronomical. I can't afford a camera; I'm lucky to get Starbucks once a week. I admit that when I'm out on the trail and I see photographers with their high-end equipment getting some fantastic shots, the little green envy monster rears its ugly head for a few moments, but then I'm distracted by something cool and out comes the iPhone.
I've learned a few things about nature iPhone photography that I am passing on to you, in case you are tempted to try a little iPhone nature photography yourself.
1. Lighting is everything. If you can get in good light, your pictures will look better. Experiment with your phone and the natural light and figure out what works for you.
 |
| Hackberry Emperor |
2. Watch out for snakes. I'm not kidding. Not because I am afraid of snakes- I like snakes. But I also don't want to get bitten by a copperhead while trying to get a picture of something else.
 |
| Copperhead |
3. Start out by taking pictures of things that don't move, like plants or fungi, especially if you are just getting started with iPhone nature photography. You can take all the time you want to practice with your phone. When something is stationary, you can experiment with what angles work best, how to get a focused shot up close, and maybe even get a little artistic.
 |
| Blazing Stars |
4. Be zen with nature. I know this might sound a little weird, but I think the critters pick up on your vibes. If you're calm and patient, you will have success.
5. The time of day can have an effect on your results. I've gotten some good pictures of dragonflies in the early morning while they are still settled on a branch.
6. Accept the limitations of the technology. For example, I will never get a picture of a belted kingfisher with my phone. When you see something good and you know it isn't going to work, just be in the moment.
7. Take a lot of pictures. If they aren't any good, you can delete them. When you get home, you might be surprised at what you get- and the more pictures you take, the better you will get at it.
 |
| Familiar bluet |
8. Lesson learned the hard way: Make sure you charge your phone before heading out onto the trail.
9. Don't compare your pictures to others' in a negative way. My personal philosophy is that it's all about the process- hiking, being outside, learning about the natural world by observation. My iPhone pictures aren't as good as a professional photographer's, but I enjoy taking them, and I enjoy finding plants, animals and fungi to take pictures of. When I do get a good shot, I'm excited about it.
 |
| Texas spiny lizard |
10. Be prepared to branch out depending on the opportunities offered. If it has just rained, I'm out looking for fungi- but if I see a butterfly, I'm going to see if I can get a picture of it. You never know what will cross your path. A few weeks ago, I was walking down a trail. and right in front of me was a very colorful stump stabber depositing its eggs into a tree. Did I get a picture of it? You bet I did, even though I actually didn't know what it was doing when I took the picture (ovipositing).
 |
| Stump stabber |
11. Don't be afraid to change your angle by getting down on the ground or even standing on your tiptoes to get a picture. Just be aware of what you're doing and where you are. I once got down on the ground to get a picture of some moss and when I stood up, my son pointed to a plant that was right where I'd been and said "Hey, Mom, isn't that poison ivy?"
12. Learn a little about the habits of the critters you are trying to capture- when are they most active? What do they like to eat? Do they like swampy areas, or bright sun? Will they possibly bite you if you get too close?
13. Get on iNaturalist and share your observations with the rest of us. When you keep a record of your observations you'll start noticing patterns that help plan future iPhone photography excursions. I noticed that my own photography got much better once I started sharing it.
I think people are often intimidated by the idea of getting out into nature (Snakes! Spiders!). When you don't know a lot about wildlife, the idea of going for a hike can be daunting. When you take that first nature iPhone shot, you might feel that it pales in comparison to others'. Soon, though, you'll find that you are getting into the moment, enjoying the outdoors, learning about the natural world, and having a great time.
Monday, October 17, 2016
Early Voting
In less than a week, early voting for the November 8 election will start. I plan to be at the polls on the first day, ready to cast my ballot. Believe me, I am ready.
I am a fan of early voting. During the 2008 election season, I was away from home for an extended period of time on a work assignment, and the day I returned home also happened to be Election Day. Because I didn't plan ahead and get an absentee ballot, voting on Election Day was my only option. I got to my polling place about 15 minutes before the polls closed, and even though I'd been driving all day and couldn't wait to see my family, I went in and did my duty as a responsible citizen. I didn't even stop to go to the bathroom first even though I needed to go (somewhat urgently- it was a long drive). It was a good thing I knew who I was going to vote for. I don't think my bladder could have survived indecision.
Not voting was not an option. I appreciate voting, if only because I can mutter under my breath "Take that, you (insert profanity)" to politicians I don't like as I vote against them and get that momentary feeling of satisfaction.
I've learned my lesson. No voting procrastination.
My decision has been made for months (no, I'm not telling you who I'm voting for or who I think you should vote for; hopefully you've done your own research, and I don't think one blog post would change anyone's mind anyway) and I can't wait to cast that ballot because then the election will be over for me! When I walk out of the polls it will be happy unicorns and cute puppies and glitter rainbows and Mary Poppins singing happy songs while I dance to my car! My Facebook feed will be full of nothing but cats and memes about coffee and adorable baby photos!
Oh, no, wait a minute. It probably won't be like that.
I have ambivalent, conflicted feelings about social media, especially Facebook. It's a lot of fun and it's a great way to connect with people, learn about things you're interested in (snakes, fungi, butterflies), and it's a very efficient way to sell band pies to friends and relatives (you know who you are; thank you!). Facebook can also serve as a window into others' thinking, preferences and personalities, and sometimes those insights might be things you would have preferred not to know.
I will admit that some of those insights have affected my relationships with other people, and they may not even be aware of it. I have friends and acquaintances of all different political persuasions, and I wanted desperately to think that it didn't matter, that our relationships would be the same, that differences of opinion could be worked through. It turned out that could not be the case in some instances, and that has been hard to accept.
After I cast my ballot next week, I will probably exhale a huge sigh of relief; I'll feel some temporary joy in knowing that my work as a voter is done. However, that feeling will likely not last long. It will probably end the very next time I turn on the TV or log into Facebook.
Even when this election is over, on the evening of November 8th, I don't think it will really be over for a long time. I don't know what will happen; that is way outside my area of expertise. I suspect, however, that if we really want to repair the damage that has been done by this election, it will involve a lot of hard work.
Meanwhile, if you're going to vote, I highly recommend early voting. You never know if a kid will get sick, or the car will break down, or a giant earthquake will crack the foundation of your house in two. A final piece of advice: go to the bathroom before you go vote. You have no idea how long the lines might be.
I am a fan of early voting. During the 2008 election season, I was away from home for an extended period of time on a work assignment, and the day I returned home also happened to be Election Day. Because I didn't plan ahead and get an absentee ballot, voting on Election Day was my only option. I got to my polling place about 15 minutes before the polls closed, and even though I'd been driving all day and couldn't wait to see my family, I went in and did my duty as a responsible citizen. I didn't even stop to go to the bathroom first even though I needed to go (somewhat urgently- it was a long drive). It was a good thing I knew who I was going to vote for. I don't think my bladder could have survived indecision.
Not voting was not an option. I appreciate voting, if only because I can mutter under my breath "Take that, you (insert profanity)" to politicians I don't like as I vote against them and get that momentary feeling of satisfaction.
I've learned my lesson. No voting procrastination.
My decision has been made for months (no, I'm not telling you who I'm voting for or who I think you should vote for; hopefully you've done your own research, and I don't think one blog post would change anyone's mind anyway) and I can't wait to cast that ballot because then the election will be over for me! When I walk out of the polls it will be happy unicorns and cute puppies and glitter rainbows and Mary Poppins singing happy songs while I dance to my car! My Facebook feed will be full of nothing but cats and memes about coffee and adorable baby photos!
Oh, no, wait a minute. It probably won't be like that.
I have ambivalent, conflicted feelings about social media, especially Facebook. It's a lot of fun and it's a great way to connect with people, learn about things you're interested in (snakes, fungi, butterflies), and it's a very efficient way to sell band pies to friends and relatives (you know who you are; thank you!). Facebook can also serve as a window into others' thinking, preferences and personalities, and sometimes those insights might be things you would have preferred not to know.
I will admit that some of those insights have affected my relationships with other people, and they may not even be aware of it. I have friends and acquaintances of all different political persuasions, and I wanted desperately to think that it didn't matter, that our relationships would be the same, that differences of opinion could be worked through. It turned out that could not be the case in some instances, and that has been hard to accept.
After I cast my ballot next week, I will probably exhale a huge sigh of relief; I'll feel some temporary joy in knowing that my work as a voter is done. However, that feeling will likely not last long. It will probably end the very next time I turn on the TV or log into Facebook.
Even when this election is over, on the evening of November 8th, I don't think it will really be over for a long time. I don't know what will happen; that is way outside my area of expertise. I suspect, however, that if we really want to repair the damage that has been done by this election, it will involve a lot of hard work.
Meanwhile, if you're going to vote, I highly recommend early voting. You never know if a kid will get sick, or the car will break down, or a giant earthquake will crack the foundation of your house in two. A final piece of advice: go to the bathroom before you go vote. You have no idea how long the lines might be.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Candy Angst
Have I ever told you that I have a tendency to overthink things?
I was at the grocery store doing the usual grocery shopping, and realized that Halloween is only two weeks away, so it would probably be a good idea to buy some Halloween candy. Most normal people probably just grab a few bags of whatever happens to be on sale or whatever happens to be within reach and toss them in the cart, but I have Halloween candy decision making angst.
The first question that I have to answer is "Do I want to buy the candy that I like, or do I want to buy the candy that I don't like?". If I buy the candy I like, then chances are good that I might open the pantry door the next day and think, "Hey, I'll just help myself to a couple of these Mini Snickers." and before I know it, we'll be out of candy and I'll be making snarky comments about how the dryer keeps shrinking my clothes.
If I buy the candy I don't like, then we will get not a single Trick or Treater, and I'll be stuck with Halloween candy I don't actually want. The last time that happened, I took the leftover candy to work and it turned out that all my co-workers were on diets or didn't like candy with nuts or just had dental surgery and all the candy sat on the break room table for weeks until it mysteriously disappeared.
The second question that I have to answer is "How much candy do I actually want to buy?". When I stock up on candy, anticipating massive amounts of Trick or Treaters bravely coming to the door of my spooky lair, almost no one comes. I'm reduced to standing on the sidewalk waving down cars, yelling "It's Halloween! Don't you want some candy? Please stop! I need you to take this candy!".
When I buy just one bag of candy, the deluge of kids starts early and never lets up. For some reason, kids don't go for the idea of "Hey, how about I give you a Halloween candy I.O.U and you can come back tomorrow and I'll give you twice the amount of candy I would have given you tonight! It's a win-win, right?". Meanwhile the Dad of No is rummaging around in the pantry for something candy-like to give out and coming up with things like candy canes from the previous Christmas that were supposed to have been used to make reindeer tree ornaments, or the canned beets that I bought to put in a salad six months ago because I'd heard somewhere that beets are healthy and you should eat more of them.
I can just see the kid lucky enough to get those candy canes or beets going back to his or her house after Trick or Treat is over and presenting his candy to his parents for inspection and payment of the parental Candy Tax, only to have them exclaim to each other in amazement, "Who gives out candy canes and canned beets for Halloween?". Then they'd post a selfie of them with the can of beets on social media, and my identity would somehow come to light. I'd end up as the infamous Beet Lady, scorned across the nation. No, raiding the pantry is too risky these days.
I know that in the past, I've had other parents tell me that they've re-gifted their own kids' candy to other Trick or Treaters, but I know I can't get away with that because my kids know how to count, and they both know exactly how many Reese's Peanut Butter cups and Twizzlers they are supposed to have. They even get possessive over the candy I know they aren't going to eat. I've heard stories (probably from the Grandpa of No, reminiscing about the good old days) about running out of candy and then using change from the kitchen change jar, which at first sounds like a good idea, and then I realize that I don't actually have a change jar.
Finally, after standing in the candy aisle for awhile, a store employee comes by and asks if I need any help. No, I tell him. I just need to buy some Halloween candy. He gives me this look that says "You're standing in the candy aisle; how hard can that be?" and walks away, and I realize that I am definitely overthinking this whole candy thing, and I toss a few bags of something that looks candy-like in the cart and move on.
I'm still not sure what I bought because I took the bag the candy was in and tossed it way back in the pantry behind the dog food container in the hopes that hungry teenagers won't find it before October 31. I think it was actually Halloween candy that I bought. However, if you do happen to get candy canes this year, those are fresh and not from last Christmas. I promise.
I was at the grocery store doing the usual grocery shopping, and realized that Halloween is only two weeks away, so it would probably be a good idea to buy some Halloween candy. Most normal people probably just grab a few bags of whatever happens to be on sale or whatever happens to be within reach and toss them in the cart, but I have Halloween candy decision making angst.
The first question that I have to answer is "Do I want to buy the candy that I like, or do I want to buy the candy that I don't like?". If I buy the candy I like, then chances are good that I might open the pantry door the next day and think, "Hey, I'll just help myself to a couple of these Mini Snickers." and before I know it, we'll be out of candy and I'll be making snarky comments about how the dryer keeps shrinking my clothes.
If I buy the candy I don't like, then we will get not a single Trick or Treater, and I'll be stuck with Halloween candy I don't actually want. The last time that happened, I took the leftover candy to work and it turned out that all my co-workers were on diets or didn't like candy with nuts or just had dental surgery and all the candy sat on the break room table for weeks until it mysteriously disappeared.
The second question that I have to answer is "How much candy do I actually want to buy?". When I stock up on candy, anticipating massive amounts of Trick or Treaters bravely coming to the door of my spooky lair, almost no one comes. I'm reduced to standing on the sidewalk waving down cars, yelling "It's Halloween! Don't you want some candy? Please stop! I need you to take this candy!".
When I buy just one bag of candy, the deluge of kids starts early and never lets up. For some reason, kids don't go for the idea of "Hey, how about I give you a Halloween candy I.O.U and you can come back tomorrow and I'll give you twice the amount of candy I would have given you tonight! It's a win-win, right?". Meanwhile the Dad of No is rummaging around in the pantry for something candy-like to give out and coming up with things like candy canes from the previous Christmas that were supposed to have been used to make reindeer tree ornaments, or the canned beets that I bought to put in a salad six months ago because I'd heard somewhere that beets are healthy and you should eat more of them.
I can just see the kid lucky enough to get those candy canes or beets going back to his or her house after Trick or Treat is over and presenting his candy to his parents for inspection and payment of the parental Candy Tax, only to have them exclaim to each other in amazement, "Who gives out candy canes and canned beets for Halloween?". Then they'd post a selfie of them with the can of beets on social media, and my identity would somehow come to light. I'd end up as the infamous Beet Lady, scorned across the nation. No, raiding the pantry is too risky these days.
I know that in the past, I've had other parents tell me that they've re-gifted their own kids' candy to other Trick or Treaters, but I know I can't get away with that because my kids know how to count, and they both know exactly how many Reese's Peanut Butter cups and Twizzlers they are supposed to have. They even get possessive over the candy I know they aren't going to eat. I've heard stories (probably from the Grandpa of No, reminiscing about the good old days) about running out of candy and then using change from the kitchen change jar, which at first sounds like a good idea, and then I realize that I don't actually have a change jar.
Finally, after standing in the candy aisle for awhile, a store employee comes by and asks if I need any help. No, I tell him. I just need to buy some Halloween candy. He gives me this look that says "You're standing in the candy aisle; how hard can that be?" and walks away, and I realize that I am definitely overthinking this whole candy thing, and I toss a few bags of something that looks candy-like in the cart and move on.
I'm still not sure what I bought because I took the bag the candy was in and tossed it way back in the pantry behind the dog food container in the hopes that hungry teenagers won't find it before October 31. I think it was actually Halloween candy that I bought. However, if you do happen to get candy canes this year, those are fresh and not from last Christmas. I promise.
Thursday, October 13, 2016
Butterfly and Spider: A Sad Story
The other day I was out hiking at my favorite nature area- and as I was watching some butterflies flitting around, one of them flew directly into this garden spider's web and was promptly killed and trussed up. One minute, that was a butterfly roaming free. The next minute, it was spider food. There's a life lesson here: Watch out for spider webs, because you never know when one will entangle you while you are just going about your business. Or something like that.
The End.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
The Apology
As a child, I was required by my parents to attend religious education classes once a week. I was a kid who much preferred being outside, and I spent most of the instructional time dreaming of a world where kids could roam freely in the great outdoors, pretending to be intrepid explorers of a new world or building dams across streams and getting extremely muddy. Therefore, much of the religious doctrine that was intended for my developing brain never made it to its destination.
Despite my daydreaming, however, a few nuggets of knowledge actually got through and took hold. For example, I can tell you the difference between a sin of commission and a sin of omission, and that there are seven deadly sins (sloth, greed, wrath, envy, gluttony, pride and lust*).
I can also tell you how to make an honest apology. An apology consists of three steps: One, admit that whatever you did was wrong and hurtful. Two, make amends to the person or people who were wronged. Three, resolve never to commit that offense again.
As a kid, I had ample opportunity to practice this skill. Dear Mom, I am sorry that I broke your figurine that Grandma gave you a long time ago. I should not have been playing Frisbee in the house. I will try to glue this one back together, or buy a new one. I will only play Frisbee outside from now on.
Here is what did not fly when I was growing up, and what does not work in my own house now: justifying a wrongdoing by saying that someone else did something worse. If you are a parent, you've probably run into this one at least a couple of times: What do you mean I'm in trouble because I didn't do the chores you asked me to do? At least I didn't get sent to the principal's office at school! (This is often followed by (1) the exclamation of "It's not fair", and (2) the statement of "You are the meanest mother EVER in the whole history of the world!").
Sometimes people will attempt an apology that is really a not-apology by saying something like "I'm sorry that you felt unwelcome", or trying to place the fault back onto the person who was wronged in the commission of the offense, as in "I'm sorry that you were hurt, but honestly, you need to just lighten up". Neither one of these is a legit apology. A better apology would be: "We should have made better efforts to include everyone. I am so sorry; would you like to have coffee with us next week?".
As a woman, I've heard the non-apology more times than I care to think about. "I'm sorry that you don't like hearing women referred to as (insert derogatory term here). Maybe you need to get a thicker skin/stop taking everything so seriously/just learn to ignore it".
It can be really hard to admit when you are wrong, and even an honest apology often doesn't make relationships whole (or fix broken figurines). I know that it's hard for me to do, although I also know that when I know that I have messed something up, I feel extremely guilty until I finally get the courage up to make that honest apology. I also have much respect for other people who apologize honestly, own their mistakes, and try to make things right, because I know that it's not easy to admit you screwed up. Since we are all human, despite our individual social status or income level, it's a skill we can all work on.
*Although I asked, I did not receive a satisfactory answer on what lust was in class. I had to look it up in the dictionary. I was that kind of annoying kid.
Despite my daydreaming, however, a few nuggets of knowledge actually got through and took hold. For example, I can tell you the difference between a sin of commission and a sin of omission, and that there are seven deadly sins (sloth, greed, wrath, envy, gluttony, pride and lust*).
I can also tell you how to make an honest apology. An apology consists of three steps: One, admit that whatever you did was wrong and hurtful. Two, make amends to the person or people who were wronged. Three, resolve never to commit that offense again.
As a kid, I had ample opportunity to practice this skill. Dear Mom, I am sorry that I broke your figurine that Grandma gave you a long time ago. I should not have been playing Frisbee in the house. I will try to glue this one back together, or buy a new one. I will only play Frisbee outside from now on.
Here is what did not fly when I was growing up, and what does not work in my own house now: justifying a wrongdoing by saying that someone else did something worse. If you are a parent, you've probably run into this one at least a couple of times: What do you mean I'm in trouble because I didn't do the chores you asked me to do? At least I didn't get sent to the principal's office at school! (This is often followed by (1) the exclamation of "It's not fair", and (2) the statement of "You are the meanest mother EVER in the whole history of the world!").
Sometimes people will attempt an apology that is really a not-apology by saying something like "I'm sorry that you felt unwelcome", or trying to place the fault back onto the person who was wronged in the commission of the offense, as in "I'm sorry that you were hurt, but honestly, you need to just lighten up". Neither one of these is a legit apology. A better apology would be: "We should have made better efforts to include everyone. I am so sorry; would you like to have coffee with us next week?".
As a woman, I've heard the non-apology more times than I care to think about. "I'm sorry that you don't like hearing women referred to as (insert derogatory term here). Maybe you need to get a thicker skin/stop taking everything so seriously/just learn to ignore it".
It can be really hard to admit when you are wrong, and even an honest apology often doesn't make relationships whole (or fix broken figurines). I know that it's hard for me to do, although I also know that when I know that I have messed something up, I feel extremely guilty until I finally get the courage up to make that honest apology. I also have much respect for other people who apologize honestly, own their mistakes, and try to make things right, because I know that it's not easy to admit you screwed up. Since we are all human, despite our individual social status or income level, it's a skill we can all work on.
*Although I asked, I did not receive a satisfactory answer on what lust was in class. I had to look it up in the dictionary. I was that kind of annoying kid.
Friday, October 7, 2016
Torture by Shopping
Now that the weather is getting cooler, it is time for a dreaded ritual in my household: clothes shopping. Over the summer, I had noticed that the food consumption in our household was increasing at a rapid rate, and the Son of Never Stops Eating was getting taller by the minute. In the back of my mind, I knew what was coming, but this weekend it was confirmed. It was time to buy him clothing that actually fit.
I hate shopping for clothes. If I was given a choice between (a) a root canal; (b) an entire day spent watching political ads; or (c), going shopping for clothing, it would honestly be a difficult choice. Add to that dislike one teenage boy who has sensory issues, is not shy about expressing his opinions, and who happens to be tall and skinny, and what is left is a challenge worthy of NASA's best.
In my dream world of the future, every home would come with a cylinder that you step in, say "I need new clothes!" and the cylinder would measure you, access your brain to sense what kind of styles and fabrics you had in mind, a fantastic laser show would ensue, and at the end you would be provided a new wardrobe at a reasonable price without ever actually having to go anywhere or talk to anyone. This same cylinder would also tastefully decorate your home and help your children with craft projects, which also happen to be two other activities the Mom of No does not excel at.
The Son of Never Stops Eating and I proceeded to a clothing store, and I quickly realized that my long held assumption that it's always easy for men to buy clothes was wrong, at least in this circumstance. If it fit in the waist, it was too short. If it was long enough, it was too big in the waist. To add to the fun and excitement, he was telling anyone who happened by that he would much rather be shopping for Legos, and that he had a mean mother.
After he tried on two pairs of pants, he announced he was done.
You're not done, I told him. We just got started. Although, to be honest, I was also done.
I just want to wear my old clothes, he told me, exasperated. These clothes are all itchy. I just want to wear shorts all the time.
Those clothes don't fit you anymore, I responded. I even tried the Mom Guilt technique: People will think I am a bad mother, I told him. You can't wear shorts outside when it's freezing. They'll see you walking home from school and think, what kind of mother lets her son outside when it's twenty degrees outside?
He proved to be impervious to the Mom Guilt. Mom, he told me, boys wear shorts all the time. We don't care if it's cold. Shorts are better than pants.
Get back in there, I told him. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.
He rolled his eyes at me, expelled his breath in a giant sigh, threw his hands up above his head, and went back into the dressing room, where he quickly rejected every remaining pair of pants. I picked everything up, hung it up, and we left, defeated.
So, from this experience, three takeaways:
1. Shopping with teenage boys can be as frustrating as shopping with teenage girls.
2. If you see a very tall kid walking home from school wearing a coat and shorts, I tried.
3. Maybe it's time to delegate shopping to the Dad of No. Why should I get to have all the fun?
I hate shopping for clothes. If I was given a choice between (a) a root canal; (b) an entire day spent watching political ads; or (c), going shopping for clothing, it would honestly be a difficult choice. Add to that dislike one teenage boy who has sensory issues, is not shy about expressing his opinions, and who happens to be tall and skinny, and what is left is a challenge worthy of NASA's best.
In my dream world of the future, every home would come with a cylinder that you step in, say "I need new clothes!" and the cylinder would measure you, access your brain to sense what kind of styles and fabrics you had in mind, a fantastic laser show would ensue, and at the end you would be provided a new wardrobe at a reasonable price without ever actually having to go anywhere or talk to anyone. This same cylinder would also tastefully decorate your home and help your children with craft projects, which also happen to be two other activities the Mom of No does not excel at.
The Son of Never Stops Eating and I proceeded to a clothing store, and I quickly realized that my long held assumption that it's always easy for men to buy clothes was wrong, at least in this circumstance. If it fit in the waist, it was too short. If it was long enough, it was too big in the waist. To add to the fun and excitement, he was telling anyone who happened by that he would much rather be shopping for Legos, and that he had a mean mother.
After he tried on two pairs of pants, he announced he was done.
You're not done, I told him. We just got started. Although, to be honest, I was also done.
I just want to wear my old clothes, he told me, exasperated. These clothes are all itchy. I just want to wear shorts all the time.
Those clothes don't fit you anymore, I responded. I even tried the Mom Guilt technique: People will think I am a bad mother, I told him. You can't wear shorts outside when it's freezing. They'll see you walking home from school and think, what kind of mother lets her son outside when it's twenty degrees outside?
He proved to be impervious to the Mom Guilt. Mom, he told me, boys wear shorts all the time. We don't care if it's cold. Shorts are better than pants.
Get back in there, I told him. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.
He rolled his eyes at me, expelled his breath in a giant sigh, threw his hands up above his head, and went back into the dressing room, where he quickly rejected every remaining pair of pants. I picked everything up, hung it up, and we left, defeated.
So, from this experience, three takeaways:
1. Shopping with teenage boys can be as frustrating as shopping with teenage girls.
2. If you see a very tall kid walking home from school wearing a coat and shorts, I tried.
3. Maybe it's time to delegate shopping to the Dad of No. Why should I get to have all the fun?
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Praise
The other day, I sent the Son of Never Stops Eating out to the mailbox to get the mail. He came back in with the usual junk mail, college brochures and bills (the only person I know who actually still writes letters is the Grandpa of No) and threw them down on the kitchen table.
A minute later, I heard, Mom, aren't you happy that I went out and got the mail for you?
What? I responded. You want me to give you praise for going out to the mailbox?
Well, yeah, he answered. Don't you appreciate your son when I do things for you?
I'm not sure where he got the idea that he deserves verbal recognition every time he does something around the house; I'm quite certain he didn't get it from me. I am the Mom of No, not the Mom of Nice. Besides, he knows I can easily be talked into buying candy and unhealthy snacks at the grocery store. That should be enough thanks right there. (Side note: if my doctor is reading this, I am not the one eating the unhealthy snacks. I only eat healthy snacks like fruit and carrot sticks. The teenagers won't eat that stuff and it's all that is left by the time I get home from work).
So you think you should be appreciated every time you do something that you're supposed to do anyway because it's part of living in this house, I asked him. He nodded his head yes.
You live in my house, I told him. I feed you! I pay for the electricity that keeps the lights on around here! I even pay for water so that you can take a shower and wash your hair! At this, he rolled his eyes and muttered something that might have been "I'd be okay with not having to take a shower". I already know he thinks that deodorant is optional on weekends and holidays, so I guess a shower isn't considered a high priority task either.
If anyone around here deserves a chorus following her around, singing praises, that person would be me. In fact, I am really starting to be intrigued by this idea. For example:
I got up and went to work.
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best employee ever!
Hey, look! I paid the water bill this morning!
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best citizen ever!
I take the car to get the oil changed.
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best car owner ever!
I stay up until midnight washing the Teenager's marching band uniform.
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best band mom ever!
Actually, now that I think about it some more, that would get annoying rather quickly. It is definitely nice to be appreciated, but I don't expect to get praise for stuff that you have to do because you are an adult and you're doing adult things like going to work or paying bills. I suppose I could have made the Teenager wash her own uniform, but a tired teenager is a cranky teenager.
I appreciate you, I told him. I appreciate you every time I give you your allowance. That's your appreciation right there.
He acknowledged that was a good point.
Then I reminded him that it was time to take the dog for a walk, and he had clothes in his room to put away, and he needed to pick up all the Legos in the living room. And he rolled his eyes, and everything was right with the world.
A minute later, I heard, Mom, aren't you happy that I went out and got the mail for you?
What? I responded. You want me to give you praise for going out to the mailbox?
Well, yeah, he answered. Don't you appreciate your son when I do things for you?
I'm not sure where he got the idea that he deserves verbal recognition every time he does something around the house; I'm quite certain he didn't get it from me. I am the Mom of No, not the Mom of Nice. Besides, he knows I can easily be talked into buying candy and unhealthy snacks at the grocery store. That should be enough thanks right there. (Side note: if my doctor is reading this, I am not the one eating the unhealthy snacks. I only eat healthy snacks like fruit and carrot sticks. The teenagers won't eat that stuff and it's all that is left by the time I get home from work).
So you think you should be appreciated every time you do something that you're supposed to do anyway because it's part of living in this house, I asked him. He nodded his head yes.
You live in my house, I told him. I feed you! I pay for the electricity that keeps the lights on around here! I even pay for water so that you can take a shower and wash your hair! At this, he rolled his eyes and muttered something that might have been "I'd be okay with not having to take a shower". I already know he thinks that deodorant is optional on weekends and holidays, so I guess a shower isn't considered a high priority task either.
If anyone around here deserves a chorus following her around, singing praises, that person would be me. In fact, I am really starting to be intrigued by this idea. For example:
I got up and went to work.
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best employee ever!
Hey, look! I paid the water bill this morning!
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best citizen ever!
I take the car to get the oil changed.
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best car owner ever!
I stay up until midnight washing the Teenager's marching band uniform.
Chorus: You are wonderful! You are amazing! You are the best band mom ever!
Actually, now that I think about it some more, that would get annoying rather quickly. It is definitely nice to be appreciated, but I don't expect to get praise for stuff that you have to do because you are an adult and you're doing adult things like going to work or paying bills. I suppose I could have made the Teenager wash her own uniform, but a tired teenager is a cranky teenager.
I appreciate you, I told him. I appreciate you every time I give you your allowance. That's your appreciation right there.
He acknowledged that was a good point.
Then I reminded him that it was time to take the dog for a walk, and he had clothes in his room to put away, and he needed to pick up all the Legos in the living room. And he rolled his eyes, and everything was right with the world.
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