A New-ish Gripe

This week was our municipal election.  It was also a chance for residents of our section of the county to vote for or against a School District bond.  While it wasn't a big federal election, it was important that we got out and did our part.

Tuesday about noon, however, I got an email from someone I didn't recognize--at least someone I only knew on paper by name, from church.  She expressed her opinion--contrary to mine--about the bond. 

Now, her opinion doesn't bug me.  What bugs me is that she used resources from CHURCH to look up my personal email and carbon copy her personal opinion page along with dozens of other people, all from church too.

I don't know about you, but I was taught that the ward/stake directory (and the subsequent email info available to other church members) was for CHURCH PURPOSES ONLY.

If you have a political opinion, by all means, put a sign out in your yard.  Or post your views as a new status on Facebook.  But my email was given to the church authorities by me for church purposes only.

I was really tempted to write a note and "CC" all the same group she used to tell her as much.  But I bit my proverbial tongue and deleted the email instead.  But it really chaps my hide.  Still.

Veteran's Day

"Thank You" just doesn't really express how deeply I feel it. 

But my life is better because of your service, your sacrifice, and your efforts.

"Thank You" seem an inadequate thing to tell you, after all you've done.

But my community and our society are unquestionably better for you doing it.

A quick "Thank You" on Veteran's Day and Memorial Day is negligent on our part.

But you never waited for the applause and accolades to do what you knew needed to be done.

"Thank You" can't give your family the time they have missed with you.

But they are heroes too, and you--with them--have offered much more than most of us.

"Thank You" for your service, your sacrifices, your efforts, your dedication.

My family, my life, my country, my world are all that I love because of men and women like you.

THANK YOU.

From the bottom of my heart.

Remembering Veteran's Day, 2011.

True Confessions

I have a confession. I haven't enjoyed the radio for music much lately. When I do listen to the radio, is it usually local talk radio, or the classic rock stations. But I have to confess: I really like Taylor Swift's music. And I like her music videos--from that you can tell I am a child of the 80s, right?! ("I want my MTV").


I know she is like 21 years old and super-model-beautiful, a country music-superstar, tall and willowy and crazy-talented. How does any of that relate to who I am? Well, nothing. And I do know that much.

But how sweet is it that she sings about everyday teenage insecurity?! In my heart I still feel that. In my heart, sometimes, I still feel like I am fifteen and scared and unsure and trying to fit in.

How refreshing is it that she sings about the excitement of holding hands or a first kiss? I'm not too old to remember that amped-up heartbeat feeling.

How empowering it is to hear her sing about the band-geek girl who finally wins the cute boy next door in the end? Come on. We all had one of those kind of friends.

How cool is it that she writes her own music, plays her own instruments, and keeps her lyrics age appropriate to her? There are plenty who sex-ify themselves, singing other people's music because it will get air play.

How lovely is it that she likes wearing "girly" dresses and shiny lip gloss? Not enough of that in the hard-edge, emo, too grown-up pop music fashion.

I've never met this young woman, but I admire her choices to write what she knows, and sing what she likes, and wear what looks good without exposing herself egregiously.

Man, I sound less fan-like and more like a mom there, don't I? Well, I am a mom. I'm a Young Women leader. I'm a PTA volunteer. And I care about the kids I work with, live with and get to serve. I wish they could all take their time to grow up and give themselves the room to grow at their own speed, rather than trying to keep up with what the media tells them and what they see older friends are doing.

I enjoy Taylor Swift for her affirming messages to the young women I know, and to the girl in my heart still. And I admire her talent and personal drive to achieve what she wants for herself. And for her hard work to get there.

I just hope she still talks to her mom regularly. She seems like the kind of girl who would.

Dangers Lurking in the Laundry

I have recently developed a fear of laundry. It isn't a clinical issue yet, but if it keeps going in the direction I feel it going, I may become debilitated at some point. I am not meaning that there is so much I can't keep up, or that there are mysterious stains I can't get out, or that I suddenly can't stand the feeling of detergent that occasionally gets on my hands.

No, I am talking about the now-cryptic, shredded-paper note-fragments that show up in the dryer from The Boy's pockets. From the looks of the handwriting--not being a CSI-trained analyst, of course, but once being a junior student--these are notes from...brace yourself...GIRLS!

What is MY little boy doing that he is getting notes from GIRLS?!?

You may say, well, he is a cute kids. Don't you see that, you over protective Mom?

Yes, I see him. But when I see him, I also see his goofy little cow-licked, fresh-from-bed hair, his sweet little-boy-hold-me-mom- I'm scared- eyes, and his triumphant-I-made-mom-laugh-smile. I am not ready to see him as some ninth-grade, babe-a-licious-beau-hunk.

I debated with myself whether I should hack into his Facebook account and write a "back off you predatory girls" notice. But I don't want to embarrass him. Not really. But I do want to protect him. And I want to keep him safe. And I want to be sure he makes good decisions when I can't be there to protect him and keep him safe.

Does that "mama-bear" feeling ever go away?! So far this Mama-Bear hasn't ever hibernated. If junior high girls don't sleep away the winter, neither can I.

Hey, I'm glad he has friends and I am glad that girls think he is cute. But if I had my way, the girls would think he was cute from far away, and in total silence until he was 22 or 23.

Is that too much to ask? Or is there a Han Solo-like carbon freezing option until he is that old? Or maybe I am the one who needs to be carbon frozen instead. Or I just should stop doing the laundry.

I'm Not Interested In "Keeping Up"

I am not sure why I'm surprised.

In case you have been living under a rock for the last several weeks, let me catch you up. A young, attention seeking woman, famous for being beautiful and famous, recently married a rich, attention seeking athlete in a ginormously expensive and lavish wedding, made for TV.

They filed for divorce 72 days later.

Why am I surprised? Beautiful people, those who are rich and famous, seem to be the epitome of irreverent and flippant when it comes to something as sacred and important as marriage. It is an avenue for additional media attention, some TV rights of the nuptials or photos of the newlyweds going to the highest bidder.

They don't have an inkling of what it takes to be married. Only, it seems, what it means to host a wedding. These are two very different things. One lasts a day. The other should last a lifetime or more--if it done correctly. But it isn't easy.

But easy is what these kind of people are looking for. Of course they are. They haven't had to work at anything their entire lives. Things have always come easily to them. If you are beautiful, people cut you more slack--for your intelligence, your effort, your initiative. If you are rich, you can afford to do what you want, and let the lawyers and attorneys clean things up for you later. If you are used to getting media attention, you learn to manipulate that attention to whatever you little heart fancies at the moment. There is no need to concern yourself for anything long term. Why bother?

Genius Golfer and I are closing in on our 20th wedding anniversary in the spring. We were young once. But we've never been famous or exceedingly rich or seeking media attention. And maybe all those are good things, in the long run. But given the chance and the inclination after 72 days or even six months, we might have called it quits citing "irreconcilable differences" too. Being married was hard work. It is hard work. Figuring out how to live with someone and get along and work together and cooperate takes some time. And effort. And commitment. Lucky for us, we had all of those. And now 20 years later, we are better for it all.

But it was never easy. Nothing that comes easily would be worth it. Our relationship is valuable because of the work we've put into it. It is of value to us because we know where this relationship can take us, if we continue to work and cooperate and get along. And those promises are worth even more than the life we've lived together thus far. It will allow us to be together forever, with our family where we can still be working things out, getting along and cooperating for eternity.

That is something the rich and famous can't begin to understand in their "15 minutes of fame" world.

Lesson Learned

This past weekend I spent an unusual amount of time watching TV with Genius Golfer. The weather was yucky, and I had no motivation to get much of anything done around the house. He was watching a marathon of the show "Hoarders" and, quite frankly, it was like the proverbial train wreck: I couldn't stop watching it.


I had never seen this show before. I had heard there was such a show but couldn't figure out why. It is on The Learning Channel--which, once upon a time, broadcast shows where I could learn something. Now the network seems to have become the "Side Show Freak" channel. They have a ton of crazy shows on there, at least what I could tell from their extensive advertisements and self-promoting commercials.

Anyway, this Hoarders show was not only heart breaking and voyeuristic but also more than a little disturbing to me. There was contention in every house they showed. The hoarder is mentally ill, to be sure, and the family is typically dysfunctional and certainly at their wit's end. But there seemed to be a high level of agitation and contention that came through the TV and seemed to settle into our home as well. That made me really uncomfortable.

For anyone who says "Its only TV; it does really affect me," I say, "You are wrong". That kind of influence shouldn't be seen as entertainment. It is as sad to me as the ill-treated "circus freaks" of yesteryear like The Elephant Man or the Bearded Woman. There is something to be understood in each of these people, and poking fun at them for entertainment doesn't seem, to me at least, any way to aid or assist them to be well.

Yet, there I sat with GG watching a handful of episodes throughout the afternoon. I couldn't look away from it, yet I could feel the spirit dissipating from our home as I did. Another opportunity for me to know better, then to do better, I suppose.

After watching this, I felt bad for those who suffer with this debilitating disorder. I felt sorry for their families. But I felt really bad for my own family. We had wasted a couple of hours doing nothing t lift up our family members, or help each other, or interact with one another, or even make memories that were worthwhile. Realizing this, I'm not sure who, really, was in worse shape.

Actually, maybe it really is The Learning Channel after all. I did learn that I can't find anything lovely, uplifting, of good report, or praiseworthy in that show. We should have pulled out a board game and played as a family instead. At least that would have built some family unity and made memories.

Video Sunday

I'm not usually a big JimmyKimmel fan, but this was hilarious.  Which is worse: Lying to the kids?  Or making them cry and showingall of America their (understandable) meltdowns?