THE EVER-CHANGING CHRISTMAS DAY

Of course, when I was a child, Christmas was so carefree and magical.  We had our fake Christmas tree with lots of ornaments and lights, plus lights outside the house.  To this day, the lights are probably my favorite part of Christmas.  I would spend many an hour making Christmas decorations, like the obligatory red and green construction paper garland.

I remember all the boxes coming with things my mother ordered from Fingerhut and Liilian Vernon.  Those were pre-Internet days, but my mother, who was a working mom, did a lot of shopping via catalogs.  A lot of the things she ordered were included in her package that she would send to my grandmother's house in North Carolina with things for my grandmother, aunts, uncles and cousins.

On Christmas Eve, I would get to open one present, so I tried to choose very carefully.  One gift I will always remember was a transistor radio from my half brother's first wife (follow that?) - it felt so awesome to go to bed that Christmas Eve with my little radio, listening to Christmas music as I went to sleep.  Maybe that was a foreshadowing of my career in radio...though I doubt it.

On Christmas Day, I got to open the rest of my gifts.  I would give my parents whatever handmade gifts I had for them.  I would have plenty to keep me busy all day - like the Barbie Dream House I got one year and spent all day assembling.

There was Christmas dinner - pretty much a repeat of Thanksgiving dinner - turkey, cornbread stuffing, pumpkin pie.  And we would usually go pick up my old maid aunt who worked at K&B Drug Store to bring her to our house for the meal.  Of course, she would have drug store presents for each of us.  And that was okay.

When I grew up and moved away from home, I didn't spend as much time at home on Christmas Day.  I was working in radio and I would usually work a long shift on Christmas so that others with families could spend the day at home.  It seemed only fair.

After I got married, I found out that my husband's family were Christmas Eve people.  They would gather the night before with everyone bringing food and presents.  We would eat, open one gift at a time, eat some more, open more gifts, and then keep eating.  As I had kids, then my brother-in-law got married and "contributed" two more, then my sister-in-law's two sons, it was bigger, louder, and wilder than ever.  There was nothing more fun for me than watching the kids open their gifts and see the delight on their faces when they got something they really wanted.

We would spend Christmas Eve night at my mother's house and celebrate the day with her, complete with gifts from Grammy and the famous Christmas dinner.  Then we would head home to see what Santa had left at our house for the kids.

As they do, the kids grew...my mother-in-law and mother both passed away just over a year apart.  Due to grief and family disagreements, we are no longer invited to Christmas Eve celebrations, so for the past few years, we have had quieter Christmases at our own home with just our immediate family.  I do get a little envious of the big family celebrations I hear about.  But I am sure my stress level is much lower these days.  As with so many families these days, times are a little tighter.  It would be nice to be able to lavish lots of gifts on our teenagers, but we do the best we can.  Things could be so much worse than they are.

While I spend my day cooking Christmas dinner when I would really like a Christmas nap, I tell myself to be thankful for what I do have - a husband who loves me with his whole heart (priceless!) and two kids who I adore more than anything on this planet.

So, while I am more prone to say, Bah, humbug," I will say a simple, "Merry Christmas" instead.

FIRST LOVES....

As parents, we want to protect our children.  From the time they are born, we do everything in our power to keep them safe - from sickness, injuries, pets, neighborhood children, natural disasters - you name it.  We want to wrap them up in a cocoon and keep them close, warm, and safe.  We want them to avoid all the mistakes we made in our youth - and then some!  But there is one thing we cannot protect them from - broken hearts.

I was grateful for every day that my son did not have a girlfriend.  It wasn't that I was being selfish or jealous - I didn't want to have to deal with everything that goes with it.  Him locked in his room on the phone endlessly...him wanting money to go out and do things with her...him spending all his time thinking about her and none spent thinking about schoolwork.  And don't get me started on the talks about boundaries, trust, and every other virtue we want him to possess when dating.

Our son had a few girlfriends once he started high school.  And I liked each of them.  The first was rather short-lived.  The second was the one where the drama started.  I thought he was going to fall apart when the two of them broke up for a number of reasons.  He was shattered.  And it broke my heart for him.  I spent so much time having heartfelt talks with him, trying to make him see that this wasn't the end of the world - but making sure not to discount the way he felt. 

It wasn't long before he was in love again.  I have to say that I really believe this young lady was good for him.  In addition to being pretty - duh! - she is smart, talented, and seems to have a good head on her shoulders.  I have to say that the whole family came to love her.  My husband and I helped him pick out gifts for her, advised him on places to take her, and coached him on being a thoughtful boyfriend.  After their one-year anniversary passed, I wondered if they might be one of those rare couples that gets together in high school and makes it for the long haul.  But I knew it wasn't likely.

Last week, he broke up with her.  I don't know - I don't want to know - all of the details.  I do know from talking to him that it wasn't a decision he made lightly.  I know he still loves and respects her.  I was glad that it wasn't because another girl had turned his head, or that he "needed his space," or some other "boy" reason.  He says he doesn't want to date for a while, and I think that's a good thing.

I guess break-ups with my kids brings back memories from a lifetime ago when I was dating.  To put it bluntly, I hated it.  I hated all the feelings that dating can make you feel...up one minute, and WAY down the next.  Will he call?  Why does he call so much?  Where do I stand with him?  How can I get rid of him?  Is he the one?  I was never a fan of angst...

If anyone finds a way to protect our kids from matters of the heart, please let me know - we can sell it and make millions!

WHAT HAPPENED TO SATURDAYS?!

When I was a kid, Saturday was THE best day of the week!  Of course, there was no school on Saturday...so I could stay up late on Friday night and just sleep till I couldn't sleep any more.  Back in those days, we didn't have cable...we only had four channels - and we only had cartoons on Saturday mornings.  

My mother, who worked full-time outside the home, totally identified with one of those cartoons - the Roadrunner.  Since she was so busy all week, Saturday was her day to run the roads, getting all of her shopping and errands done.  Unlike me, she didn't have a Walmart by the house to stop in at every other day.  And back then in New Orleans, we had Blue Laws, so most stores were closed on Sundays.

Besides sleeping late and cartoons, I remember the smells of the Saturdays mornings of my childhood.  I remember the wonderful smell of the dryer vent.  My mother did tons of laundry on Saturdays, and when she did use the dryer, the vented smell of the fabric softener smelled so fresh and wonderful to me.  We also had a clothesline and she would hang all the sheets and towels on it.  The smell of sunshine in those linens was so wonderful - as I would pull the sheets off the line, I would have to sniff them as I put them in the laundry basket.


Another great smell was that of fresh cut grass.  A lot of times, my mother would also mow the lawn on Saturday mornings.  Even if she had done it on Friday evening, the smell of the grass was still quite pungent...in a good way.


Most Saturdays, my mother took my blind father to the barbershop so that he could visit with friends.  He would spend the morning there.  Around noon, my mother would go get him and bring him home, and then cook a big breakfast - or actually brunch, I guess - for the three of us.  There were usually fried eggs, bacon and toast of biscuits.  Back then, you could find calves' brains in the grocery store.  My mother would cook them, mixing them with beaten eggs to make a kind of scrambled eggs and brains mixture.  Yeah - I know what you're thinking - "GROSS!!"  But I grew up eating them - and I loved them!  I can almost taste them now.


Saturday nights were always hamburger nights.  Either my mother would cook burgers and fries - deep fried, of course - or in later years, we would go pick them up at Burger King or Wendy's.  And there were wonderful TV shows on Saturday nights back then.  And Saturday night was another great night to stay up late.


Thinking back to the Saturdays of my childhood, they all seem like springtime - warm, sunny, crystal clear, and relaxed.


Saturdays today?  Hectic - always running all over creation to bring kids here or there, to buy this or that.  And unlike my mother, I never say, "Beep, beep!"   Yes, I'm still doing laundry on Saturdays - but the smells just aren't the same....  With the cartoons of today, I don't care if I ever see another one again.  We might still have burgers and fries on Saturday, but the joy of eating them in front of good TV shows is gone.  Staying up late doesn't do it for me anymore either - I would be happy to go to bed at a time that would have made me protest back then.

Maybe I should place a classified ad - "Lost: The Saturdays of my youth. Please return them - they are sadly missed."

MOM & DAD TIME

A week ago, my husband and I took off.  We have had a few date nights over the years - this time, we took an overnight trip about 4 hours away.  There was a writers' conference being offered by one of my favorite authors, in a town on the water that we really like...so we decided to go. 

Our 14-year-old daughter spent the night with her best friend.  We decided to leave our 17-year-old son home alone as he requested.  I figured that it was a good baby step toward college days - plus, he could feed the cats and dogs.  And he was under strict orders not to have any company - i.e., his girlfriend.

Fourth of July weekend is not an ideal one for driving toward the Gulf Coast - but I had no clue it would be that congested and slow.  But we finally arrived...we checked into our hotel room, which was very nice and centrally-located, and made plans for dinner.


We checked on the kids a couple of times - everything was fine.  Of course, I had that feeling of guilt and worry - I was four hours away!  What if something happened?!  I guess parents never really get over that feeling.  I always tell my kids that my biggest fear is that something will happen to them that is totally out of my control.  And I don't like to not be in control.


My hubby and I had seen a barbecue place on the way in - just a little hole-in-the-wall, which from my experience usually are the best ones.  The desk clerk confirmed that.  We had a nice meal together.  It was so much easier that trying to find a place that the kids could agree on, too

 
After dinner, we decided to head down to the beach.  I just wanted to see the water before the sun set.  It was nice to just enjoy the beauty of the scene without being asked where we were going next, what we were going to do, when we would be eating again.


We had a nice quiet evening at the hotel.  No kids...no cats...no dogs....  Well, that was until about 3 a.m. when I started getting texts from my daughter - she had a stomachache and wanted to go home.  Of course, I said no.  Then I got texts from her friend's mother, saying that my daughter thought I would be fine with her going home, but that she was against it.  I told her no, too.  She had given my daughter something for her stomachache.  I told her to send my daughter to bed - that she was welcome to dump her back at our house after sunrise.  Needless to say, she was fine when she woke up - something she ate or drank.


We got a few hours of sleep and then enjoyed the free breakfast at the hotel.  I am all about the free breakfast!  We checked out - much easier without having to find the kids' stuff in every nook of the room - and made it to the writers' conference in plenty of time.  We both enjoyed it very much.  How often to you get to sit and listen to one of your favorite writers talk about the writing process?  Priceless!


After the conference, we headed to the local bookstore for the author's book signing - again, priceless to me!  Then we did some shopping at one of my favorite stores in that area and at the outlet mall.  We had a nice dinner...good food and conversation...before making the trip home.


The drive home wasn't as congested and we made decent time.  We didn't have to stop as often for bathrooms or drinks as we would have with kids.  And when we got home, the kids were fine.


We didn't have an exotic...or expensive trip...but it was a good one.  We got some alone time - time away from everyone else to reconnect and talk and just be a couple - and we like it.  And we do plan to do it again.  If I could just get rid of that guilt thing!

MY DADDY

Yesterday was Father's Day...so of course, along with just about everyone else, I thought about my Daddy.  He has been gone for 34 years...longer than the time I had with him.  But he was always "Daddy" -- never "Dad."

My father was 59 years old when I was born.  He had already had a family with his first wife.  I think he and my mother had given up on having children together since they were married for 15 years before I came along.  He would get so mad if anyone assumed that I was his granddaughter. 

My father was a barber, in the Navy and out.  I don't remember much about his job - just that he kept my hair in a pixie haircut (that I hated!) when I was little.  While I was a toddler, he started going blind.  He was diagnosed with Macular Dystrophy.  I became his "seeing eye daughter."  Some people learn to cope with fates such as this, but he never did.  But he did learn new skills.  He would carve things out of wood, cattle horns, peach pits....  He would carve wooden birds and then nag at me until I painted them.  I was pretty good at painting woodpeckers, Blue Jays, Orioles and Scarlet Tanagers.  I have to say there were many times I would rather do almost anything than paint those birds.

Daddy had a workshop - the one in the above picture.  He painted every squiggle on that building.  He spent many an hour tinkering in that workshop.  He didn't like the red-tipped cane for blind people, so he made his own from wood and cattle horns.  I can still smell the Plastic Wood he used to put the horn pieces into the cane.  These canes were conversation pieces.  He loved to talk - to anyone who would listen.  My mother - who was in the Navy, too, where they met - would take him to the barbershop every Saturday morning.  He would hang out with the man he used to work with and talk to everybody who came in.  It was definitely his comfort zone.

When I was growing up, almost every Sunday, we would go to church.  He had to be right up front, wearing his cowboy hat and boots  A large part of it was because he was hard of hearing, but also so that he could be seen.  And he would always have a little wooden bird or a peach pit bird in his pocket to give to a child - my mother and I would always accuse him of trying to buy love from others.  He would give away anything and everything to get a little appreciation. 

Daddy was a sucker when it came to animals - he truly loved them.  When I was little, he raised beagles.  He loved unusual animals - we had a rooster, a skunk (deskunked, luckily), ducks, dogs - but he wasn't a cat person.  The most unusual pets we had though were monkeys.  First, he bought an adult Squirrel Monkey - big mistake.  That things was wild and mean.  Then he bought a baby Spider Monkey - it was almost like the baby brother I had always wanted.  Billy was so little and cute.  My parents built a huge cage for him onto the workshop.  Daddy would take him out on a leash and he became another conversation piece.  But try traveling for two days in a car to North Carolina with a caged monkey in the backseat - not good.  As Billy got older, he bit my mother and me, and we stayed away from him.  When he finally dared to bite Daddy, he had to go.

Daddy loved to tell stories.  He was somewhat versed in Cajun French and loved to tell stories about Cajuns.  He loved to fish, though that chapter was pretty much closed with his blindness.  I do remember going to Grand Isle once to visit friends of my parents and crabbing.  I really loved dropping that net in the water and checking to see if we had caught any of the tasty creatures.

My Daddy was gone long before I had children.  As much as he loved kids, I know he would have adored mine.  I wish they could have met him.  I sincerely believe every time I find a penny that it's Daddy thinking about me.  He would always give me a hard time about looking down while I walked.  Saturday, a woodpecker came down really close to where I was - on the day before Father's Day, I took that as another sign from my Daddy. 

He wasn't an easy person to be around - for those of us closest to him - he had a short temper...and he would take it out om my mother and me.  And I didn't help things - I loved to pick an argument with him - over anything and everything.  Of course, I am getting payback from my kids....  I really do appreciate Daddy now...and I think he knows that.

NEIGHBORS - THEN & NOW

I know I'm getting older...but neighbors were sure different when I was a kid.  True, we didn't have cable television or personal computers or video games, and we played outside a lot back then...so the neighbors were extensions of your parents.  If you did something wrong down the street, someone was sure to tell your parents.

We knew all of our neighbors back then.  One of our next door neighbors was also one of the substitute teachers at my elementary school and I loved her and her husband dearly.  They would have done anything for our family and vice versa.  Another neighbor - an elderly woman - never forgot my birthday and always made me a cake and a homemade craft.  Another neighbor worked for a local dairy and brought home chocolate milk for me now and then.

We played up and down the street, in everybody's front yard and a few backyards.  Times were so different then, but I still had to tell my parents where I was going to be and who I was going to be with.

We played at my house a lot, too.  Our fridge was always stocked with Cokes and Barq's.  And being an only child (for the most part - long story for another day!), I had lots of toys and games.

Now, things are very different.  I know almost none of my neighbors.  I know the names of very few. Most are just people to wave or say, "Hi," to as we pass.  Our family spends most of our time in the house with the TV's, computers and video games.  My kids are teenagers and don't play outside like when they were younger.  Even then, there were very few places in the neighborhood they were allowed to go. 

I'm not saying that not being acquainted with the neighbors is ALL bad.  I am a fairly private person.  I don't want to know all the details of my neighbors' family life, and I prefer they not know mine.  Unlike in the "olden days," I don't have time to hang out in my neighbor's kitchen drinking coffee.  And my kitchen isn't usually clean enough to have unexpected guests!

We have had our share of crazy neighbors....  There was one who lived next door and threatened to put antifreeze out for my poor goofy dog to drink.  Lovely.  There is the neighbor who basically stalks my husband in order to share all of his problems with him.  Fun.  There have been neighbors with very small children who ran wild - the parents didn't know - or seem to care - where the kids were or what they were doing.  Really?  There were the neighbors with pets who ran wild.  Sometimes the animals are easier to deal with the the kids.

Yes, I have some friends who have great neighbors who they are good friends with.  They may have dinner at each other's homes or meet at the subdivision pool and visit while their kids swim.  That is great!  I think it's awesome to have that kind of "neighborly" situation.  Maybe I'm just not as "neighborly" as my parents were.  And that's okay....

VACATION - A RELAXING TIME (?)

We just got back from vacation - the family headed to the beach the day school was out.  All four of us were looking forward to it...though the kids would have been much happier if we had let them bring friends.

I hate packing.  I always pack too much - and then still forget things that I needed or wanted to bring, despite my checklist I keep to help remind me of these things.

The kids - especially my son - started whining about the 4 or so hours drive to get there.  As a kid, I enjoyed the nearly two-day car ride from our house to my grandmother's house in North Carolina.  I always liked seeing new places and imagined what it would be like to live there.  I still do that.  Not my kids.  Even with a DVD player and a selection of DVD's, handheld game systems, books, and the radio, they get bored really fast.

Well, we made good time and got to the condo we were renting for five days - a place we had never stayed before.  It was gorgeous!  Almost too much luxury....  I didn't think we'd ever figure out all the controls in the showers, much less the stove, microwave, etc.  It was truly a beautiful penthouse condo with a balcony that went all the way across it - probably three or four times longer than any I had ever seen before. 

We weren't located on the beach this year, but the condo overlooked the bay.  Strike one.  While my husband and I enjoyed watching the variety of boats and jet skis coming and going, plus the pelicans and sea gulls, my kids found it boring.

Next we needed to go to the store to stock up on some groceries.  Strike two.  Spoiled teens don't want to eat in the condo - they want to go out to eat at a restaurant.  My husband tried explaining that one of the main reasons to get a condo is for the full kitchen.  That was okay with them for snacks and breakfast, but not for REAL meals.

They did seem to enjoy the amenities the condo had to offer such as the fitness room and the pools, especially the heated ones.  And, in contrast to last year, we even got our son out on the beach and he seemed to enjoy it.  The walk across the street to the beach wasn't bad at all.

By the end of day two, the kids were bored.  By day three, they were more than just bored - they were practically stir-crazy!  They couldn't fathom that anyone - me - could find sitting on the balcony, reading a book, and drinking a glass of tea while the breeze wafted over me a relaxing or enjoyable scenario.  They wanted to get out and DO stuff - i.e., spend money!  When we explained that we didn't have a lot of extra cash to DO stuff, they got almost angry.  And then I got angry.  Strike three.  Then my midweek vacation depression set in.  Am I the only one who suffers from this syndrome?  I was determined at that moment that I was NEVER going to take them on a vacation again!  Why spend all that money just to be miserable in another state?  I could have stayed home and found things to do there - or have done absolutely nothing.  They would probably be slightly less bored at home.

We all made it through vacation week.  My husband and I had to endure the whining about the drive home or about any stop we made - my son HAD to get home to see his girlfriend!  And we did make it home in pretty good time.

So while the kids were checking in with friends, getting on their computers, and giving the pets the attention they had missed, I was unpacking and starting to do the mountain of laundry.

I think I need another week off to recouperate from vacation.

I HATE SCHOOL!

Okay - anyone who knows me knows that I haven't been in school in a VERY long time.  Of course, like all kids, my two hate school with a passion.  And I'm right there with them hating it, too.  

I don't remember working as hard as I do with them when I was the one in school!  They have so much homework...so many papers...so many projects....  It never stops!  Even over the summer, they will both have summer reading assignments!

I love summers.  I still have to work - I wish I could stay up all night and sleep all day like they will do.  But the good thing is that I only have to get one person up and ready - me!  No waking kids - and husband - multiple times.  No yelling to hurry up.   No worrying that they don't have a clean uniform in the closet.  No making breakfasts or packing lunches.  No remembering to sign permission slips or send checks for anything.  Just me...getting ready in the quiet house...with the only other ones awake being the cats.  It is almost like a holiday...almost....


Thank goodness that this is the last year of the science fair.  Just those two words strike fear into the heart of most mothers I know.  The entire first half of the year is taken up by researching the topic, getting it approved, researching the subject, conducting the experiment, graphing the results, making the display board - whew!  And I don't think either of my kids learned much from the projects.

Don't get me wrong - I know how important school is and I want my kids to do well.  I just hate to see them stressing over things they hate - and that they'll most likely never use again!  I haven't measured the circumference of anything in many years.  I haven't tried to find the value of "n."  I Don't have fond memories of The Red Badge of Courage or Dante's Inferno - in fact, I am still grateful for Cliff Notes!  Shhh!

I do appreciate how hard teachers work.  And like any profession, there are good ones and not so good ones - and even a few great ones!  Thank you to my daughter's 4th grade teacher who recognized that her learning difficulty was undiagnosed ADD.  Thank you to my daughter's middle school math teachers who changed the subject from one she despised to one that she's doing pretty good in.  Thank you to her 6th grade Social Studies teacher who refused to make a terrified child get in front of the class to do her report.  Thank you to all of my son's band teachers who awoke his talent and his love for music - which may play a part in his major in college and his career.  And shame on the teachers who truly seem to dislike their students, and who see my childrens' education as a nuisance....  Thank goodness they were in the minority.


Well, let me get ready to try to enjoy the abbreviated summer.  At least when I get home from work, I don't have to nag the kids to get off the computer and do their homework or to try to get to bed at a decent hour.  I just have to get me to bed at a decent hour!  Yeah...that'll happen!

HAPPY (?) MOTHERS DAY!

I am not a big fan of Mothers Day....  I don't have a problem with other people celebrating - I just don't want to.  My mother passed away in March of 2010, a couple of months shy of her 91st birthday.  May is a tough month in general - first, Mothers Day...then the 19th was her birthday...and the 21st was my parents' anniversary.  Reminder after reminder....

My mother was an awesome mom!  It always seemed to me that she could do anything - and she demonstrated that often.  She could cook, sew, crochet, knit, refinish furniture, do minor plumbing and electrical repairs, and so much more.  She and my father - with my mother doing the majority of the work since my father was blind - put in a tiled floor on our patio.  She painted rooms, made curtains, cleaned, did yard work, did dishes, ironed - and she had a full-time job.

My mother took me to all my doctor's and dentist's appointments.  She took me to dance classes.  She took me shopping.  She took me to the library, helped me with my homework, and quizzed me for tests.  She typed all of my term papers - and attempted to teach me to type.

I tried to help my mother out - probably not as often as I should have.  But I would sometimes cook supper, or at least get things started for her.  I would do some laundry for her.  And once I started driving, I think I took a lot of the load off of her.

My mother put me through college - a private one no less - with the savings bonds she bought every payday.  It was important to her that I get a college education - and she couldn't have been more proud when my graduation fell on her birthday.

My mother was a loving grandmother.  She didn't get to see her grandson or granddaughter as much as she may have liked since we lived an hour away.  But she helped any way possible.  She made clothes and stuffed animals for the kids.  She bought them diapers, clothes, and toys.  She helped me so much when I was a brand new mother with a sickly newborn to care for.

My mother was one of the best friends I ever had.  Whatever good or bad happened to me, I couldn't wait to call and tell her the news.  To this day, when something happens, I want to pick up the phone to call her.  It takes me a minute to realize that I can't.

My husband and I were remembering one Mothers Day that we decided to take my mother out to eat.  We should have known that every restaurant in the greater New Orleans area would be packed.  We went to one place that we knew she liked which was about a 45-minure drive away.  The wait was ridiculously long.  We probably tried at least a couple more places before we finally found a place to eat.  I don't think she really enjoyed that outing, but tried to be gracious about it.

The last 4 years or so of my mother's life were not good ones.  She was suffering from Alzheimer's - and I do mean suffering.  My mother was way too proud of a woman from good hillbilly (or as she would say - "Mountain William!") stock to have ever have wanted to live like that.  It hurt me so much to witness the decline.  She was not in a happy place by far.  She relived unpleasant things from her past, unpleasant things that never happened, and forgot so many good things.  I'm not totally sure that she knew exactly who I was half the time, or that she remembered being a grandmother.

It doesn't feel right to me to celebrate Mothers Day.  It's a day when you honor your mother.  So I guess I honored her by thinking about her...a lot.  I honored her by doing the things for my family that she did for hers - shopping for groceries and doing laundry mainly.

My son didn't understand why I didn't want to go out for Mothers Day.  First, I don't really like to be the center of attention.  (I know some of you who know me well may not believe it.)  I don't need anyone to notice me today just because I gave birth.  Second, I feel very guilty having anyone spend money on me.  I am not a gracious recipient of birthday, Christmas, Valentines Day or anniversary gifts - why should this be any different?

If my kids want to show me appreciation for "birthing them," they can put their dirty dishes in the sink, put their dirty clothes in the hamper, feed the cats and dogs, take out the trash, learn to do laundry - not on this one Sunday, but throughout the year.  I'll bet their grandmother would smile down on them, too.

A CHILD OF THE AGE OF TELEVISION....

I am a certified, dyed-in-the-wool, can't live without it, television junkie.  It all started when I was a child.  Yes, we only had three or four channels back then...no cable...no DVR's or even a VCR...but we had television!  I had a small color television in my room.  (Okay, you don't have to call me spoiled!)  I remember laying in bed on Saturday mornings and watching Bugs Bunny or whatever cartoons were on that one morning of the week.  I remember staying up late and watching The Tonight Show and loving every minute of Johnny Carson's comic genius. I remember staying up really late and watching reruns of Perry Mason.  I remember watching live coverage of sad occasions that I really didn't understand then, such as the funeral train carrying Robert F. Kennedy's body.

I remember watching TV with my father.  He was blind, so many times, I was his "seeing eye daughter" and would tell him what was happening on a show.  He liked Hee Haw and Lawrence Welk.  He was a bit of a TV junkie himself, "watching" everything from the news to sitcoms and game shows.  And he would talk back to the TV all of the time!  I guess that's where I got it from.

I remember trying to watch TV with my mother...but she would fall asleep in front of it many times.  I guess that's where I got that from!  After she retired, I got my mother hooked on soap operas.  I got hooked on a couple during college and she began watching with me.  She loved All My Children and Guiding Light.  I knew her Alzheimer's had really gotten the best of her when she no longer cared what was happening in Pine Valley or Springfield.


The TV - well, usually more than one - stays on in my house usually 24 hours a day.  I watch the news and weather...I love cooking shows...I enjoy reality shows (The Real Housewives are my guilty pleasure!)...I follow American Idol...I am inspired by DIY programs...I relish programs about the supernatural...shows about hoarders make me feel more normal.  In other words, I like a little bit of everything - sometimes anything - except cartoons, where it all began.


It runs in the family, my kids are junkies, too.  I used to tape many, many episodes of Blues Clues, Gullah Gullah Island, and Little Bear to entertain my son as a toddler.  In fact, he pretty much taught himself to read by watching old episodes of The Electric Company with closed captioning on.  He and my daughter watch TV all of the time - mostly anime and MTV now, though she loves to watch movies.


My husband is not immune either.  He usually doesn't discover that he likes a program until it's in syndication - then he Tivo's EVERY episode.  How many times can you watch the same episode of Friends?  He also watches a lot of The History Channel and The Weather Channel.  And he and I have gotten into the bad habit of leaving the TV on all night.  I guess I feel like I'm missing something if I turn it off....


So I guess it's not a big stretch that I have worked for a television station for the past almost twelve years.  One of the perks - cable TV in my office!

 

Animania!

I am the mother of two...animaniacs!  There - I said it!  Actually, it's not that difficult for me.  I am not embarrassed or ashamed....  I mean, there are many much worse things they could be into besides anime, manga or anything Japanese.

It all started very innocently.  When my son was very young, he got into Pokemon, as a number of little boys have.  On every trip to the store, he would beg for more Pokemon cards.  He had the toys, the t-shirts, and watched the series on TV.  I watched with him sometimes - actually, I kind of enjoyed it, and I pretty much understood it.

When my daughter was old enough, she got into Pokemon, too - I think mainly to keep up with her big brother.  From there it was onto Yu Gi Oh, Naruto, Bleach, Death Note, etc., etc.  More cards, toys, t-shirts, posters, and videos.  They would get together with friends to play with the cards or to act out the programs.

Then, a few years ago, my kids discovered the anime conventions - or "cons" as they are known.  They aren't quite the same as the sci-fi conventions - you won't see any Trekkies at these!  But you will see so many other characters!  So far, my kids have just attended the conventions in Louisiana.  But they are consumed by them.  They order wigs and cosplays (as the costumes are known); they scour thrift and consignment stores looking for clothing that will fit the look they are going for.  Everything must be precise - almost just isn't good enough for them.  They experimented with makeup and hairstyles.  As I have already said, I do not really sew, but I have had to try to pull together last minute items such as a hat and a tunic - without a pattern.

Lord knows, I never thought that I would buy, much less help put in, red contact lenses for my son.  Nor did I think I would ever dye his hair black, buy him eyeliner (aka "guyliner"), or paint his fingernails.  Again, it could be worse - no new piercings or tattoos!

I have fretted with my kids, worrying that a custom made cosplay would not arrive from China in time - which happened this past weekend.  I have turned the house upside down looking for props or accessories.  I have cleaned up scraps of fabric and thrown away towels with paint spots.

During the con, I have driven back & forth to the hotel numerous times over the course of the weekend with changes of clothes, forgotten items, and food.  This past weekend, my husband and I got a room in the hotel where the con was held - every 5 minutes, there was a knock on the door.  It was always one of our kids, along with several of their friends.  They needed a place to change or a snack.  That room was quite full of various costumed characters at times!

My son met his girlfriend at a con last year.  Good news - she can sew!  And she does it very well!  And she puts up with him when he gets crazed about getting his hair or nails or whatever perfect!  If she can teach my two to sew, she will be perfect in my eyes!

Overall, the cosplayers are a good bunch of kids.  Most of them have above average intelligence.  I'm sure that this group is like so many others - kids that hadn't found a place to fit in elsewhere.  I know parents who have curtailed or even forbidden their kids when it comes to all things Japanese.  I would just like to find a way to cash in since so many of these kids seem to buy anything and everything at the cons. 

I guess it all comes down to the parental golden rule - pick your battles.  I don't want this to be one.  I enjoy sitting back and watching the parade of interesting outfits go by, while driving my kids crazy by asking repeatedly, "Who is he dressed as?  Who is she?  What show is that one from?"

"Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto!"

 

The Title Says It All

It does.  I am far from the perfect parent!  But I do think that - most of the time - I get an "A" in effort!  

My mother was the ultimate Super Mom.  She could sew beautifully - she made clothes for herself, for me, and for my dolls.  She could crochet and knit, too.  My mother was a very good cook - nothing fancy, but always delicious.  There was always containers of homemade soups and gumbos in the freezer.  She also canned vegetables and made jellies.  Of course, she was a Depression-era child and the oldest of ten.

Because my father became disabled when I was a toddler, my mother worked full-time.  She had retired from the U.S. Navy when - surprise! - she became pregnant with me.  That was during a time when women had to leave the military when they were "with child."  She was one of the first WAVES stationed in New Orleans.  

Anyway, my mother worked at the Naval Hospital in New Orleans from 8:30 to 5 Monday through Friday.  She came home and cooked supper every night.  She made me lunch to bring to school every morning.  She did all of the shopping, yard work, cleaning, ironing, dishes (no dishwasher!) and laundry.  She paid the bills and took me everywhere I needed to go.  She was a member of the PTA - other than that, she was home with my father and me every night.  She typed all of my term papers for me and quizzed me for tests.  I didn't understand then why she would fall asleep in front of the TV most nights.  I do now!  I fall asleep in front of the TV a lot of nights.

I am definitely not the same kind of mother that my mom was.  I can barely sew on a button.  I can cook fairly well, but do as little as possible, though I do love to bake.  I do just enough ironing and cleaning to get by.  Our bank accounts look so much better since my husband took over the bill paying.  My freezer has nothing homemade in it.  I can't crochet - and I can only knit if someone gets me started.  I love counted cross-stitching but have zero time for it.  


Now don't get me wrong!  I am far from lazy!  I work full-time.  I do most of the shopping, all of the laundry, and just about all of the cleaning and dishes (but I do have a dishwasher).  I am one of the leaders of my daughter's Girl Scout troop and I'm an officer with the Band Boosters at my son's high school, plus I will soon be a Colorguard Mom when my daughter starts high school in the fall.  I help with my daughter's 4-H projects, take my son to private music lessons and accompany him to Louisiana Youth Orchestra rehearsals.  I never miss either of their school concerts or honor roll programs (if they tell me about them in advance!)  I have been on a number of field trips.  When my ADHD daughter was younger, I would read her summer reading books aloud to her since she retained it better that way.  I go to almost every doctor's appointment - though I have let my husband take over the dentist and orthodontist.  I worry more about my kids' grades and homework than they do.  And I try to make sure that our cats and dogs are healthy and fed.

I have a "to-do" list a mile long.  Someday, I hope that my house will be organized and clean, that my yard and garden will be a showplace, and that my kids will have grown into happy, healthy, productive adults.  Someday, I want to have time to cross-stitch again...to catch up on all the books I want to read...and to finish the novel I started.  I want to be able to stay at home all weekend - no trips to the mall, the movie theater, etc.  I want to know what it's like to have a lazy day - without feeling guilty about it!  I want to be able to cook a meal of things my husband and I would like to eat without hearing grumbling and whining.


Don't get me wrong - I adore my children.  I think it's obvious that they come first...above my needs and wants.  And I think that will be evident in my next entry - animania!