Running Red Momma

I actually had a few perfect moments last week.  It would be a slap to the universe if I didn't acknowledge them.  I took my children and one extra neighbor to the park which can sometimes be a lot of walking, running and watching.  However, I found myself sitting against a tree holding my youngest while the older ones played.  My littlest curled into me as we watched the others. The sky was bright blue, the sun was just right and I sat there for an entire five minutes. It really was perfect. Later that week, I went to see my parents for the weekend.  I finally have hit that point where I have rebalanced the mind set between my parents are perfect and my parents are so "wrong". Now, they are loving people who do they best they can.  I enjoy their company in a way I couldn't when I was younger. I am more okay with their quirks and individual ways. There are many simple changes that come with aging.  Hooray I say.  When I visit my parents for the weekend, it usually i...

Lots of things swirl in my head. They are all of various sizes.  I worry if I buy products that aren't organic, but I am a budget freak.  I worry about too much plastic packaging.  I worry about offending people. I worry which economist is correct. I worry I don't read enough international news.   I worry I may have to start totally dying my hair.   I worry my daughter is becoming a tween soon.  But really, I worry about the state of pop culture. Mock me if you want.  However, let me give you something to think about.  Star Trek pushed the "reset" button with its new venture.  Wolverine was an attempt to reset. Batman has been reset.  Terminator is attempting this as well.  Battle Star Galactica was reset.  The geek in me is worried, very worried. Is this where we are? FREAKING RESET?  Yes, why am I so emotional? First of all, it is safer to get worked up over movies than to examine the stock market.  Secondly, I love creativity. I am worried we are in a morass of re-...

We took a family vacation to Zion National Park.  I learned lots of things. My children can play well together when they have to do so. They don't need lots of toys/electronics. Eating junk food for a week will not kill you. Teaching kids the joy of hiking requires patience and love. Road trips can still be full of singing, laughing, I-spy-with-my-little-eye,"kids did you see that?" and just a little fighting to make you feel normal.  As I walked along the hikes with a cross-section of America, I observed something.  ( If you are large breasted, you may want to skip this. This is the title portion of the piece. )  The enormous typical middle-aged/older woman has got a lot of "girls" to carry around.  As I looked at the pull of gravity and the need for super bras, I thought to myself, maybe it is just right to be small.  For years, I have lamented my dresses that sagged and my swimsuits that gaped.  However, I did not want to be those women trucking those things ...

For a number of years, my husband and I have settled into an agreed upon set of radio tunes.  We have our obligatory NPR, his classic rock and my beloved brainless 80s music. A station we have listened to our entire marriage has lost most of its charm.  But, I was still shocked when he took it out of the line-up.  Instead, I could only describe the new station as B-hits of classic rock.  I complained when I got home.  "We ALREADY have a classic rock station honey!" I reminded him. "Yeah, but they call this  smooth classic rock," he defended himself.  Anyone hear the bell of middle age?  It's coming around the corner as we speak! 

I experienced a frustrating day with my toddler a few days ago. Time outs, choices and feeble attempts at humor did not convince her to dress. Instead, fear and brute force won the day.  As I agonized and guilted over my decision as I gave the play-by-play to my sister, she asked me if I tried being fun. I have been a mom for a while.  This is one area I cannot do.  I am careful to be educational, act firm, be loving and hard-working, not call names or yell, but dammit do I have to be fun?!!!  This is a too painful reminder of my many years of teaching high school.  I could use every strategy I knew, reward systems, group learning, investigations, projects and so forth but gosh darn-it I wasn't fun.  The former yahooo basketball coach could do the same crap day- in -day- out with a dose of insulting humor/fun; he was still considered a cool teacher. The sad thing is, I didn't know I would be an unfun grown-up. I thought I would be fun and silly. But I don't think I am.  I s...

Driving along the road today I saw: Free Pie and Dessert 6 pm.   See I'm not a cake girl, I love pie--coconut, chocolate, apple, banana cream or cherry.  As I looked for more info, I realized it was a church function. And not mine.  Sheesh! Why don't we do pie?  That has got to be better than knocking doors.  Still, I really wasn't ready for a life change or ready to pretend I wanted some good ol' time religion.  I passed.  As I drove, I soothed myself with the assurance it was apple from a can, fake banana and runny coconut.  But really,  I think they are onto something.

My son has been learning to count.  He gets the teens but not the weird twelve.  Today, as we watched kids line up for the bus, he wondered who was a teenager.  I explained what a teenager was by the number of their age.  He looked at me and said it was the tight pants.  Teenagers wear tight pants.  Yeah, I guess that works.  Much better than my definition of snarly and disaffected.