Recession Chic

Five Thanksgiving meals later, I'm at the end of my vacation and five pounds heavier. I promise you I ate lightly, had small pieces of pie, little or no seconds. I exercised. But it is what it is. I will gain weight unless I eat celery. Just celery. But you didn't stop by to read about my weight loss/gain woes. What I intended to talk about was the economic "crisis". Really. I'm not kidding. So if you want to go check out CakeWrecks or something fun, exit now.

Still here? Cool. So I've been trying to figure out how our family should react to the "crisis". I keep putting it in quotes because Oklahoma hasn't really experienced much in the way of an economic downturn. No glut of foreclosed homes. The unemployment rate went up this month, but it's still lower than it was this time last year. Food prices are higher. But that's about the extent of the crisis in my neighborhood.

It doesn't hurt to prepare, though. What do people do to prepare for an economic crisis? Cut spending, stop using credit cards, pay off debt, live below their means. Become a recessionista, trying to look good while spending little on clothes. Wait. We already do that. All of it. We pretty much live like an economic crisis is around every corner. I really can't think of anything we should change in response to this economic crisis. So that's good, right? We were cool even before recession-proof living became recession chic.

What I really want to do is be forced to prepare for economic plenti-tude-ness. Wouldn't you rather be reading headlines about the coming economic prosperity? Dire warnings about how to deal with sudden wealth? Reading daily headlines about another food bank closing, layoffs at the Goodwill Thrift store, cities putting moratoriums on new building until the glut of empty houses, abandoned in the rush to upgrade, can be given away. Sounds like fun. Or an OPEC member nation.

Because I have nothing better to do

Tessa and I went to get haircuts today. While waiting for Tessa to come back from the shampoo bowl with Jamie, our hair person, I was shooed off the waxing table where I had been perched. Some poor young guy was being tricked into getting a few areas waxed. I say tricked because he was being assured - ASSURED - it wouldn't hurt. I'm guessing it was his slightly older sister who was leading him to slaughter. The stylist whips out two Popsicle sticks with balls of steaming wax on the tips and stuffs them up the guy's nostrils, then squeezes his nose shut just to make sure no hair escapes the holocaust. Then rip, scream, rip. It was all over. I tried to look away. I really did. But it was impossible not to watch the assault. Wonder what he ever did to his sister. I only have four words for that poor dude - Electric.nose.hair.trimmer.

Later we meet up with some of the female family members to see Twilight. We've all read the books but are apprehensive about the movie. The previews drone on, the music starts, and Edward Cullen appears on the big screen. The theater erupts with screams from a small group of pre-teens. Seriously, I nearly wet myself. Did we really come to a movie where 12-year-olds scream at the leading man-boy? Wow. I apparently need to upgrade my reading/movie list. I remind myself that my grandfather, who had two earned doctorates and a couple of master's degrees thrown in, loved to read westerns. So maybe it's ok if I entertain myself with books about hottie vampires.

Oh, and I brought the leftover popcorn home from the theater. At 25 cents per kernel, I'm not about to drop it in the trashcan. I'm determined to get my money's worth!

Random Thanksgiving thought: Everything you need you probably already have.

Got a few minutes?

If you don't have today off, you'll have tomorrow free, so thought I'd provide a little entertainment.

Is it just me, or do you see faces in random places? Is that a sign of mental illness? Paranoia? Please tell me you see a face in my purse.

This video won the Children's Jury Award at the Encounters Short Film Festival. Gotta love life in cubicles.

And a few words about gratitude...

Happy day before Thanksgiving!

Conversation killers

I'm trying to introduce as many people as I can to Twitter and so far I've managed to influence about ten people. I never said my circle of influence was large. I'm excited though because now I feel way more in touch with people I don't see every day. About 50% of my twitter following/follower list was in my living room the other day when all our cell phones started chirping, dinging, vibrating and buzzing at the same time. It was Tessa, who decided to comment about her sister, Angela, who was sitting about two feet away, setting off a ridiculous round of tweets amongst the people in the room.

That started me thinking how with twitter and blogging and text messaging and email there's not much to talk about when the family all gets together.

Me: Oh, the other day Mark did the funniest thing...
Mom: Yeah, I read it on your blog.
(silence. sip my coffee)

Mom: Did you get my email about borrowing the popcorn machine for the party?
Me: Yep. I replied with my answer.
(pick at my chipped nail polish)

Mom: Cori's coming home on...
Me interrupting: Mm hm. I saw it on twitter yesterday.
(check my iphone for messages)

Me: Well, gotta go. Great visiting with you.

At this rate we are going to forget the art of conversation. I've never been a big talker. I actually communicate more of myself in writing than I ever do verbally. But I'm going to have to keep some stories to myself so I'll have something to talk about next time I see you.

I'm still mom

Even though the nest is empty most of the time, it gets filled back up occasionally. Well, as full as it can get when you only have two children in the first place. I wanted more kids way back when we were in the baby making season of our lives. But Mark, being the accountanator that he is, kept counting and said it wasn't a good idea. He counted seats in the car. Only four. He counted bedrooms. Only three. He counted adults. Only two and we don't want to be outnumbered. He counted dollars in the bank. End of discussion.

So we just had the two and they were blessing enough! Now they're mostly grown, but I occasionally still feel needed as a mom. Tessa is home from college and is sick. Can I make her a hot cup of tea and some waffles? Yes I can!! OK, the waffles were the frozen kind, but I toasted them for her! Like I'm gonna whip out the waffle iron. I'm happy to help Angela make bulletin boards for her classroom, or make Christmas gifts for Tessa's sorority sisters. As long as it involves decoupage. These things just make me feel like I'm still needed, still a mom. It's soothing and makes the empty nest a little more doable.

But just a little warning girlies - Once the grand babies start coming along, you're gonna get dropped like your junior-year boyfriend. So enjoy it while you got it.

Mind, Spirit, Body

I'm on va-ca-tion, I'm on va-ca-tion (said in a sing-songy voice while doing that little dancey thing). Not that I'm actually going ON vacation. I just took a week off from work. Tessa and niece Cori come home from college, we'll be doing a round of family dinners and traveling to the in-laws for a few days. I've been thinking lately how much I need to be putting emphasis on Spirit, Mind, and Body. Now is a good time to punch that into high gear. I'm feeling dull, drab, in a fog. Life is good. No complaints there. I'm just not taking care of myself.

True confession. I HATE exercising with a passion. I've never been particularly athletic. Never really had a hobby that involved getting my heart rate up. Biking? Hurts the tush, a good bike is expensive, I have balance issues. Running? Let's just say I'm well-endowed and the girls are difficult to constrain. Yoga? I missed out on the flexibility gene, plus there's the balance issues. I am a good swimmer, but it's just so...wet. Walking is my main form of exercise, but even then I get bored. What DO people do to stay healthy? I'm hoping to explore this side of myself this week. No promises, but hopefully fewer excuses.

I'm off to dust off my BEAN and see if I can at least work some kinks out.

Permayouth isn't what it's cracked up to be

Yesterday an overly chipper personality on morning television noted that it was Meg Ryan's birthday. She's 47. Cool! So am I. Wait, not so cool. I don't look anything like Meg Ryan. Is it just me or do celebrities seem to be more like kidults, wearing the same clothes and doing the same activities as teens and adultescents? Try and think of the last time you saw a celebrity photographed with adult children. Go ahead. I'll wait.

See? It's cause people will realize just how old they are! I read recently that middle age is now considered 50s or 60s. People routinely feel (and sometimes act-you've seen it!) ten to twenty years younger than their actual age. 27is the new 47! We're stuck in permayouth.

I don't know about you, but I'm happy to be older and hopefully wiser. Yes, I would be thrilled to have the body of a twenty-year-old, as long as I get to pick which twenty-year-old body I get. Because with some 20 somethings I've seen, I'd be getting a makeunder. I'm just sayin', that's not the direction I want to be going!

Wordless Wednesday

Doesn't this sound like a standing O from nature? I shot it when we went camping.

It's Monday! The day we crawl out of our warm weekend cocoon of sweat pants, sleeping late, and doing whatever the heck we want. Off to do, hopefully, something that matters, in exchange for that all important paycheck. If I didn't need that paycheck, I'd happily stay at home and spend my days reading, thinking and writing with a few remodeling or craft projects thrown in. But today's reality is I need to go get in the shower and head to work.

This afternoon I have a presentation to a tell a funder why we need a $70,000 grant for my program. I think we're the obvious choice, duh! But there are two other finalists...something lame about building houses for the homeless and another about mentoring at-risk girls. Yawn. The really important part is that I got a new sweater/jacket thing so I'll look lovely. 'Cause it's all about me!

Of course I'm kidding. Any one of us would be a great choice and all very needed. I'd hate to be on the funding committee. Have a great Monday. I'm off to change the world in my small way. Have fun making a difference in your world.

I wanna be a golden retriever

One of the Executive Directors in my building brought her chihuahua to work one day last week. He's a cute little thing, but true to the nature of male chihuahuas, he thinks he's ruler of the universe. He marked his territory repeatedly throughout the day. He peed in front of every office door and left a little chihuahua poo in front of mine. Not sure how I got that honor. I actually thought it was funny since I wasn't the one on my knees trying to clean up after him.

It reminded me of the chihuahua we had in Phoenix named Peanut. He was definitely a territory marker. He also challenged the biggest dogs in the neighborhood like he was going to tear them to pieces, until one day a huge German shepherd just calmly picked Peanut up in his mouth and shook him. Peanut was a little more judicious about his challenges after that.

Dogs have been a big part of our family, but it's not like we started out with that in mind. Neither Mark nor I grew up in big dog or animal-loving families. Not having grown up with dogs as a central part of the family, I'm always fascinated by their personalities. Oh they do have personalities. And you can kind of follow our family's history by our dogs.

Olathe - Sandy, a blond cocker spaniel that could climb any fence invented by man. High maintenance, narcissistic female with boundary issues. She would put herself between 4 year old Angela and the back door and not let her in the house. Sandy went to live on a farm. (Really!)

New York - Shilo came from the local shelter. Free thinking female averse to following rules. When we walked in the door of the shelter another family with little girls about my girls ages was dropping Shilo off. Their landlord no longer allowed pets so Shilo went right back out the door with us. Many hours were spent chasing her down in the little burg in the Catskills where we lived. Shilo went to live with Aunt Shari when we moved to Bulgaria and eventually chose a life on the road.

Bulgaria - No family pet, just lots of stray dogs that liked to bite. Tough, mafia types that talked big but responded well to big sticks or a swift kick with a boot.

Phoenix - Mark worked at PetsMart's headquarters and one day took the girls to a local PetsMart while I was at work. Peanut was there waiting to be adopted. We weren't really supposed to have pets in our rented townhouse, but how can you say no to two little girls snuggling with a tiny animal with his toenails painted blue? As far as personalities go, Peanut had a Napoleon complex. Small male, really big ego. When he wasn't giving directives to the neighborhood dogs, he spent most of his days shivering under a blanket, even though we lived in Phoenix! He was also terrified of thunderstorms. Tessa convinced Mr. Mooberry, her 3rd grade teacher, to let her call me at work. She was crying and very concerned that it was storming and Peanut would be upset. I assured her I could NOT leave work to go comfort the dog. Seriously, Mr. Mooberry! Some little blond chick had you wrapped around her little finger!

Johannesburg - After our tearful departure from Peanut (went to a single woman who pampered him shamelessly), we promised Tessa we could get another dog. This time we decided to actually get a puppy rather than a full-grown dog from a shelter. Unlike most of Africa, South Africa is very developed with plenty of shopping available. So we just went down to the mall and picked out a little scotty dog. Tessa promptly named him Dooley after the boy in Jan Karon's Mitford series. Having never experienced the "joys" of puppyhood, Mark was back at the pet store within 48 hours determined to send Dooley back where he came from. Fortunately, the pet store wasn't open yet, and Dooley was trembling in terror at the thought of having to return to that place. He broke Mark's heart and home came Dooley. He was a delight, but full of mischief. He was also very...um...male. The neighbor girl who had a disability that made clear speech difficult could oh so clearly say the word "humping". We had to leave Africa unexpectedly, and Dooley happily went to live with our young pastor and his wife, Maranatha and Allison.

Oklahoma - Of course we promised Tessa a new dog. I can really relate to the Obama family! Raising one puppy was enough for a lifetime, so we drove to Tulsa to pick out a dog from a lab rescue organization. Winnie is half lab, half golden retriever. There was never a more loyal personality, eager to please and eternally patient. Her only dislikes are the mailman and men in hats. Otherwise she's content to spend her days in the backyard hunting squirrels, or sleeping at our feet. Oh to be so accepting of life. We had thought of getting her a buddy, but then Riley and Angela found a stray little Beagle mixed with something else. She has taken up residence at our house and Winnie has done most of the puppy training for us. She's curious, determined and emotional, not to mention cute.

Know anyone with these personalities? I often wonder what God had in mind when he created dogs. Did He intend them to be man's best friend?

Now cats. They're just the spawn of Satan.

When mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy

Life is good. The cup is half FULL. I'm blessed. Today is the first day of ...yada yada yada.

Truth is I'm cranky and seeing life through smudged, dirty glasses (as opposed to rose colored glasses. Keep up! I just said I'm cranky). Repeating all the appropriate positive thinking phrases doesn't seem to be doing the trick. I really think it goes back to expectations. I often have high expectations, want things to be just so, expect people to be reasonable, rational and helpful. But reality doesn't always cooperate. And, I admit, my expectations are often unrealistic. So, just for today I hope to follow the little-known second half of the Serenity Prayer:

...Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardship as a pathway to peace; taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will; So that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen.

Warning: Living may be dangerous to your health

I got a band-aid out the other day and this is what I read on the teeny tiny wrapper…”Warning: To avoid suffocation, keep plastic bags away from children.” Really? I’m trying to picture a child working really hard to shove a band-aid wrapper over her head. Not working. It has to either be a REALLY big wrapper or a kid with a TINY little, finger-shaped head to pose any danger. Now I’m wondering, was I this way with my kids? Super over-protective? Warning them and worrying about things that weren’t likely to happen? I do have a big imagination, but I don’t think my girls would tell you I was overprotective. I hope they felt protected but not suffocated.

We lived a weird life when they were growing up. It started out pretty normal. You know – backyard swing sets, learning to ride a bike, going to the park with other families to barbecue and play volleyball. But when Angela was about 7 and Tessa 4, we thought we heard God calling and started on a 10 year odyssey. New York, Belarus, Bulgaria, Phoenix, Johannesburg. Instead of watching Sesame Street, they were helping serve hot dogs and cokes (franks and sodas) in tough inner-city neighborhoods of New York, playing Barbies in the warehouse behind pallets of medicine destined for Belarus, climbing on broken slides on playgrounds littered with glass shards in Sophia, Bulgaria, or observing the inequality of shanty towns that cropped up overnight behind the mall in Johannesburg.


They were definitely not sheltered. There’s a big difference between being sheltered and being protected. I hope they felt protected. I certainly know that although we tried to teach them they were not the center of THE universe, they were always the center of OUR universe!

It's a slippers and sweats day

I am in serious slacker heaven. I worked over the weekend, so I'm off today. I have a pile of magazines sent over by the world's best mother-in-law, a good book to finish, a few crafty projects to work on, and a small home improvement project to do. So much fun awaits! I don't know what to do first.

I have to confess I also indulged in sleeping ridiculously late. I woke up with a headache early this morning, so when Mark got up I got up too, took some sinus medicine, and crawled back in under the quilts. Mmmm. So decadent. It was dark and rainy and chilly. Perfect slacker weather. The only thing that would make this day better is if Starbucks delivered!

OK, one thing that would make it better - watching this from my niece's blog. http://sleepysnowbunny.blogspot.com/2008/11/hee-hee.html

Workin'

Hanging out in a hotel in Enid. Woohoo. Need to leave here in a few minutes so the housekeeping staff doesn't beat down my door. I have work to do tomorrow in the big town of Cherokee. Had work to do in Enid yesterday. Didn't want to make the drive back home only to turn around and come back again. I think I'll go find a Starbucks and work on my computer. I'm doing a grant presentation in a week and need to get my stuff together. Then maybe find a Walmart and buy cleaning products for the mobile dental van. That's why they pay me the big bucks. 'Cause I can drive a 35' Winnebago with a big smile on the side, write grants to fund the program, motivate people to do dentistry for sometimes uncooperative children, and...scrub the floor. I just hope Starbucks has a place to park my ride.

In the mean time, read this post and sign up for Twitter already. I'm lonley out in Twitterland. http://bigisthenewsmall.com/?p=565

A little random, a little ridiculous

Random and shallow thoughts after a day of thought-provoking, post-election conversations.

Hallelujah! Susan Lucci finally got booted off Dancing With The Stars. I was so afraid it was going to be Cody and that would just be wrong.

Just when we thought annoying Eddie was gone from Top Design, he's back to "help" one of the three finalists. Seriously, Eddie. I think I hear Martha calling you.

Lest you think all I do is watch reality TV, I have to tell you I'm reading the book, The Shack by William P. Young. It's a quick read but good so far. Euguene Peterson describes it this way: "When the imagination of a writer and the passion of a theologian cross-fertilize".

I'd like to cross-fertilize a cookie and a carrot. All the taste and texture of a cookie, and the low calorie, healthy of the carrot. Especially the low cal part.

I'm about to give up on weight loss. It seems so impossible. I know it's just basic math- take in fewer calories than you expend. But I'd so rather have the cookie over the carrot stick.

Question of the day: Will there ever be financial life after paying for college?

God, Bless Barack Obama.

I live in a very RED state, and, judging by the numbers, many others joined me in voting for John McCain. I considered writing something about my post-election thoughts today, but then I read a post by a young woman I've recently been following. I hope you take a minute to read what she had to say.

OK, I do have to add one thought. Somehow with all our traveling and living in foreign places, we've always managed to be in the USA to participate in the Presidential Elections. And we are always reminded that few other countries transition leadership as well as we do. As Americans we are passionate about our beliefs and we work hard to get the person in office who promises to uphold our beliefs. And in the end, we accept the outcome and are grateful for a democratic process that does not involve military coups (Mauritania), assassination of candidates (Pakistan) or dictators who refuse to leave office and torture or murder those who oppose (Zimbabwe). God bless America!

OK, so now read, please. http://dustytakle.com/2008/11/05/god-bless-barack-obama/

Election Day

I'm proud to have raised two daughters who care enough to vote. Today was Tessa's first time. Go Tessa! Way to make your momma proud! For Angela it's her second presidential election. She has been busy becoming an informed voter the last few months.

I've heard of waits ranging from 5 minutes to 2 hours to vote. My co-worker, Kristin, was so anxious from the media's dire warnings about long lines she showed up at her polling place at 5:30. That's A.M. She got the place all to herself for quite awhile. But she was the first to cast her vote in her precinct! One of the volunteer dentists who worked with us today waited for two hours, including the ten minutes his line was shut down while they carried a ballot out to a waiting car to allow a handicapped person to vote. It took me about 15 minutes to wait in line. Not bad. They seemed a little disorganized, like no one had told them there was going to be an elections until the last minute and they had to scurry around and get things set up. The worst part about it was they didn't have any of those "I Voted" stickers. I was bummed! I asked the lady how I was supposed to get my free Starbucks. She said she'd write me a note. I passed. It's not like they were giving away free lattes.

Sharing...blahhk

I don't want to share. Yes, I know I'm supposed to. But what's mine is mine, and what's yours is yours. In reality, moms get used to sharing. Even though they are basically grown, my daughters still occasionally want to share my makeup, my shoes, my laundry soap, my car. And of course I'm happy to share those things. But I'm struggling with sharing one thing. I'm afraid to say it. You might judge. I don't want to share my daughter and her husband with another family for holidays and other special days. There. I said it. I'm a terrible person. I'm really trying to be a good mother-in-law. But Thanksgiving is right around the corner, then comes Christmas. And already the balancing act has begun.

Me: We're planning on Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's with all the fam. Does that work for you?

A&R: Um, well. Probably. We also have to go to his Grandparents for their big family dinner.

Me: What time are they planning dinner? We can be flexible.

A&R: Hmm, not sure. I guess we should find out. Oh, and his Dad's new wife's parents are planning on us coming by sometime that day.

Me: Well, your sister and your cousin will be home from college and will want to see you. (politely, with a smile)

A&R: Oh, the cousin's leaving the morning of Thanksgiving to drive back to school with HER boyfriends family.

Me: Ugh. Sigh. How about Wednesday? Can you pencil us in then?

I don't even want to THINK about Christmas yet. And we had a similar conversation about celebrating her upcoming birthday. Seriously. I'm not very good at this. I'm not good at planning ahead anyway, but having to get dibs in on the kids for special occasions...major buzz kill.

I just showed them this blog and they said "you should try being the ones that get passed around". Yep. I know. That's why I try really hard to be happy with what I get. Seriously! I do. But I still don't like to share!