Running Red Momma

We have all been sick here, but we are trying to get our life back together.  My husband and I were having a dumb argument regarding "cooling the house techniques" a few days ago.  Think of it as Thermodynamics for the unlearned (me). J was observing us and commented, "Well, you should listen to Dad. Because he goes to work and you don't."  I sat there in stunned silence.  I had known the moment would come, I already had written a pre emptive journal entry to her. In that journal, I explain about my different feelings regarding women's roles,  my desires to work and be with my kids.  I  thought I had made the delicate balance between feminism pushes and my maternal pushes. However, it is in cursive .  Somehow, I thought the moment would come a little later.  Sure my husband lectured her; which he should have done.  It is just that it felt like a betrayal of what I thought I had set-up in my life.  I read. I discuss politics. I exercise.  I still sort of kno

A few years ago, I helped supervise a youth car wash.  I remember an older gentleman from our neighborhood zooming up in his red sports car.  When he rolled down his window and I tried to answer his questions, I was amused by is determination to keep listening to his cranked up Styx even when he was having a hard time hearing me.  The "concept album" was dead, but it still gushed out in its glorious combination of guitars/synthesizer and over-the-top dramatic vocals.   Although his car was red and music was loud, it struck me as all very middle-aged.   I chuckled to myself that he was not aware of how the whole scene was playing out. Time has moved on and clearly I have aged as well.  As I drove my daughter home from ballet, I found one of my great "angry anthems".   Alanis Morissette, in all her fury had once brought great comfort to me after a break-up.  I would holler along with Alanis to  "You oughta know" while driving late at night. As I zoomed up th

I am not a good person, ask anyone.  I do not possess inherent goodness.  According to Anne of Green Gables, I'm more like the person who could be wicked and isn't. I don't feel much different than any ordinary person who makes bad choices.   Perhaps,  I should explain. When I wake up in the morning, I don't sigh to myself and say, "hmmm, I need a beer or maybe I will fornicate."   However, I don't fear or shake from the concept of sin.  I just choose not to do it. Yet,  I can see how those foolish choices entice people.  Wouldn't it be a release to just say everything I thought or have some incredible anger tirade?  Or,  maybe it would be good to just be snide or openly jealous. You know,  think of any number of human desires and just give in to them.  For me, it is more about choices than desire.   That's what I mean, I fight the devil inside all the time.  The larger concepts of grand theft auto, drunkenness or immorality do stop me. Yet, once t