SOoooo, looks like it's been more than half a decade since I last made use of this blog. I have absolutely been reading and crocheting quite a bit in that time, but I have also gotten a job & had a kid graduate high school (and both my younger kids *start* high school) in that time, so there hasn't really been much time to even think, much less type out what I'm thinking. And, of course, some of what's been happening in the ol' noggin are... sensitive topics which I don't want certain people who Actually Know Me in Real Life stumbling across.
Anyway, today's round of introspection comes from a couple of Twitter-y things that I've been interactive with today. One of those was about acts of kindness in a grocery line, prompting me to talk about how, when I was working the front registers at my store (I'm in the pharmacy now, working on becoming a pharmacy technician), I would keep a handful of mostly my own change at my register so that when people would come through with a WIC check for $8 of produce, and they would go over that amount by a bit, I could just say, "It's ok. Someone earlier didn't want their coin change, so I've got enough here to cover you." Obviously I couldn't cover large amounts, but like a quarter or so? We don't need to start taking out individual grapes or a banana just so you can finish up your shopping. Anyway, that sparked a conversation where I talked a little bit about having been on WIC myself when my kids were small and we were a military family, and how much the summer Farmer's Market vouchers meant for us in terms of helping my kids eat well. Which turned into how the Army post near me is sending a lot of people to my pharmacy recently because they *cannot afford* to restock meds -- maintenance meds, like blood pressure, cholesterol, oral diabetics -- and these people are being hit with an unexpected expense in the form of copays.
The other Tweet was someone asking about a memorable Christmas present from your childhood. For me, that was a hot pink AM/FM radio, about the size of a Walkman cassette player, when I was about 7 (so, late mid-80s). I wandered around the neighborhood with that thing *constantly* on. It was the first time I had any semblance of control over what music I listened to, and I loved it. I listened mostly to a "Greatest Hits of the 60s, 70s, and today" station -- at home, my mom listened to a fair bit of the same music, but also a lot of more folk-y, protest-y music (which I still love). My dad's parents were pretty much all Grand Ole Opry, All the Time (which, again, I still love) and my mom's parents were... well, my granddad was career Army, and he grew up in the bayous of Louisiana, speaking French before he spoke English. There was a lot of zydeco, but he also loved some folk/anti-war stuff, the Everly Brothers... it was a really weird mix, honestly, and I remember him singing "Where Have All the Flowers Gone" really clearly. But then, he also loved to put on old Big Band records and put a granddaughter on his feet (there were half a dozen of us girls) and dance us all around the basement -- so if you ever wonder about my love for those old classics, as well as the way current artists like the Puppini Sisters and PostModern Jukebox are reinventing the style, well, it's that. My grandmother, on the other hand, grew up dirt poor in town, and had a sort of social-climbing mindset that she couldn't help (very Hyacinth Bouquet, if you're familiar with British comedies) and she would only play church hymns and Classical music.
Anyway, the take-away here is that I have very weird and wonderfully varied taste in music, but aside from a round handful of exceptions, I haven't been exposed to a whole lot of new music since the mid-90s, and most of what I have heard is variations on an older theme -- some very Irish-folk-inspired rock, the aforementioned PMJ & Puppini Sisters, etc. Maybe one day I'll do a rec list of some of the stuff I'm really listening to these days. It'll be fun!
And somehow all of that led me to this blog, and to books, and my reading. I have a very weird, messy TBR, consisting of paper and digital books that I own but haven't read yet, wishlists across various sites, a couple of actual, physically written/typed lists, and a folder of pictures of books that looked interesting but I couldn't buy right then for whatever reason. Oh, and a Goodreads Want to Read shelf. Unfortunately I'm not actually really reading new books right now. There's a text post I saw on Tumblr not too long ago about not having the emotional wherewithal to deal with learning to love new characters and get familiar with a new world. And honestly, that's me. I've been doing a bit of rereading (although obviously not blogging about it, which I really should consider), and reading a lot of fanfic.
I don't really like to talk about my fanfic reading, though. Not because of any sort of shame, or not wanting to share my reading kinks, or whatever, but because of the sense of anonymity of not really knowing if the person whose words I'm reading is also someone that I know or could know in real life. I know there are some authors I read & follow on social media who write fanfic, but I don't know if they write in a fandom I read, or what their pseuds are, and the fanfic authors I follow, I don't really know anything about their lives outside of their fandoms.
The thing for me is, reading an author's public work, that I have paid actual real money for, gives me the right to express my feelings about it. There are certain standards in craft & editing that are reasonable to expect from a professionally published book, and no expectation that they are going to go back and "fix" whatever I find wrong with the book, and if there are major issues with characterization, or plot holes that bug the hell out of me, or subpar editing that someone paid for, I have the right to point that out so that if there's someone out there who might want to know those things can find it out before they decide if they want to fork out the money to own/read that book. It's one of the things I look for if I'm on the fence about a book or author or even publisher -- is it well edited, or well written enough to gloss over a lack of editing? Whatever in the blurb caught my attention, did the author do it justice, or was it just a tease? Is it actually more nuanced than that half-page description can convey? Does it mess up tropes I love or turn tropes I hate on their ear?
With fanfic, I feel more gentle, nurturing. A lot of fanfic writers are quite young, or are writing in English as, well, not their first language. A Beta reader is often someone equally young or non-English speaking, or simply someone who doesn't actually read for fun, but needs something from the media they love that it's not giving them, so they turn to fanfic to find that missing bit. And I don't think "constructive criticism" is really particularly constructive, especially once something has been posted. If I could, I would Beta everything in my fandoms, and maybe that would make them better, or maybe it would only make them better FOR ME, but I don't have the time, and I'm not living with the conviction that I and only I am capable of deciding what is and is not right for a story that is not my own, written by or for people who are not me. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I'm capable of leaving a good comment (comment anxiety is definitely a real thing), so I tend to stick with likes and kudos depending on where I'm reading.
Also, no, I'm not telling you which fandoms I consider mine, but I will say that they are almost all movie/TV fandoms but NOT movies/TV that I actually have watched more than a couple of episodes of. I find that knowing too much of canon spoils my enjoyment and makes nearly every person seem out of character. It's weird, I know, but it works for me.
Anyway, I guess that's all I have to say for now. It's getting late, and the hockey game is in its last period, and I have a sweater going that all I need to finish is the cuffs and maybe the pockets if I decide to add them, so I think I'll go do those things. Much love to all; hopefully I'll see you soon. I'd like to make this a habit again; writing down my weird random rambling thoughts and maybe sharing a few things I'm loving with the ether.
Showing posts with label rambling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rambling. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Just a little update
So, the Never-Ending Afghan is really, truly almost finished -- I just have to finish the final row of edging & I have about a side and a half of that left (which, considering this is queen-sized, is not exactly an inconsequential amount) but I get a fair amount of that done during hockey games if it's not too hot in the house. That's a LOT of blanket to be under & it gets uncomfortable if it's in the 80s (or even high 70s) while I'm trying to work on it.
The next afghan I'm going to do is underway -- it's going a bit slower because it's more small pieces and in all kinds of different colors, rather than two, and also I'm using an actual pattern for this one, which is not for as big an afghan as I intend to end up with, so... I may take some liberties with the pattern & do a few things slightly differently & just use the pattern for the squares. We shall see, as it gets further along.
In between all that, I've been making infinity scarves -- I made a really pretty green-and-white one, where I basically created the pattern myself, for a friend in Utah, and all my kids have requested one "just like it, only with different colors." And it really only takes a few hours, so I'm doing those sort of in-between. & additionally, a friend just moved to Denver, so he's getting a really nice charcoal infinity scarf that I found the pattern for off the internet somewhere. It looks really nice; it was simple to make & I think it will work well. I may, in fact, make up more of both kinds of scarves to send to people for Christmas presents. (If you're still reading this and you want one, I'll post more pictures on Flickr & you can tell me what colors you like & I can see if I can find them in super-soft yarn. I also intend to eventually finish that hairpin lace that kind of got set aside, and make it into an infinity scarf. But since it involves deliberately setting aside time and clearing off the table, it's harder for me to make it happen -- my other stuff I can just pick up whenever I sit down; I don't have to have that flat surface to work on.
Beyond that, I've been working on trying to keep my house clean and rearranging the chore thing so that my kids have a few more responsibilities, and a few different responsibilities. We're all cycling through the main rooms of the house, keeping them clean-and-neat-ish, some of us with more success than others (sadly, I'm one of the less successful; on chore days I'm too busy supervising everyone else, and during the week I'm typically caught up in more in-depth cleaning, running errands, doing one-off types of chores, crocheting, and occasionally volunteering at the boys' school).
Also, yes, I've finally been called to come in & volunteer at the school -- they had a bumper-crop of willing volunteers this year, so it took a while to work out what to do with people. I was asked to come in, and I ended up in the library shelving books for an hour or so. I ran across a few treasure troves of childhood favorites -- Lois Lowry, Judy Blume, E. L. Konigsberg -- with some books that I loved but for whatever reason don't own myself and also some books by those authors I've never heard of. I was invited to just sit down & read once I'd cleared the cart of returned material, but I had other obligations so I wasn't able to, but I have an open invitation to come back & just read sometime if I want to. And I *do* want to; but I also want to volunteer in more parts of the school than just the library, so maybe that will be my reward -- work for an hour or so, then treat myself to a book in the library on a comfy chair.
SO, yeah.
Also, the DH went hunting this morning & he tells me he got two wild pigs. I'm not so thrilled about certain parts of this (you can probably figure out which ones), but can't deny that I'm pretty happy about having all that pork! He wants to try his hand at sausage at some point; we have a meat grinder, seasoning, and casings, but who knows when he'll actually find the time!
The next afghan I'm going to do is underway -- it's going a bit slower because it's more small pieces and in all kinds of different colors, rather than two, and also I'm using an actual pattern for this one, which is not for as big an afghan as I intend to end up with, so... I may take some liberties with the pattern & do a few things slightly differently & just use the pattern for the squares. We shall see, as it gets further along.
In between all that, I've been making infinity scarves -- I made a really pretty green-and-white one, where I basically created the pattern myself, for a friend in Utah, and all my kids have requested one "just like it, only with different colors." And it really only takes a few hours, so I'm doing those sort of in-between. & additionally, a friend just moved to Denver, so he's getting a really nice charcoal infinity scarf that I found the pattern for off the internet somewhere. It looks really nice; it was simple to make & I think it will work well. I may, in fact, make up more of both kinds of scarves to send to people for Christmas presents. (If you're still reading this and you want one, I'll post more pictures on Flickr & you can tell me what colors you like & I can see if I can find them in super-soft yarn. I also intend to eventually finish that hairpin lace that kind of got set aside, and make it into an infinity scarf. But since it involves deliberately setting aside time and clearing off the table, it's harder for me to make it happen -- my other stuff I can just pick up whenever I sit down; I don't have to have that flat surface to work on.
Beyond that, I've been working on trying to keep my house clean and rearranging the chore thing so that my kids have a few more responsibilities, and a few different responsibilities. We're all cycling through the main rooms of the house, keeping them clean-and-neat-ish, some of us with more success than others (sadly, I'm one of the less successful; on chore days I'm too busy supervising everyone else, and during the week I'm typically caught up in more in-depth cleaning, running errands, doing one-off types of chores, crocheting, and occasionally volunteering at the boys' school).
Also, yes, I've finally been called to come in & volunteer at the school -- they had a bumper-crop of willing volunteers this year, so it took a while to work out what to do with people. I was asked to come in, and I ended up in the library shelving books for an hour or so. I ran across a few treasure troves of childhood favorites -- Lois Lowry, Judy Blume, E. L. Konigsberg -- with some books that I loved but for whatever reason don't own myself and also some books by those authors I've never heard of. I was invited to just sit down & read once I'd cleared the cart of returned material, but I had other obligations so I wasn't able to, but I have an open invitation to come back & just read sometime if I want to. And I *do* want to; but I also want to volunteer in more parts of the school than just the library, so maybe that will be my reward -- work for an hour or so, then treat myself to a book in the library on a comfy chair.
SO, yeah.
Also, the DH went hunting this morning & he tells me he got two wild pigs. I'm not so thrilled about certain parts of this (you can probably figure out which ones), but can't deny that I'm pretty happy about having all that pork! He wants to try his hand at sausage at some point; we have a meat grinder, seasoning, and casings, but who knows when he'll actually find the time!
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
If it ain't one thing, it's another...
so, my weekend:
Sat: Drive DH to Savannah to get his stuff out of his semi. Drive to Richmond Hill to Urgent Care Clinic. Drive to Savannah to ER. Leave DH in ER & drive home to put kids in bed. Drive BACK to Savannah to take DH some things he'd need overnight after admitted into hospital (like his CPAP).
Sun: Get home from hospital at 2 a.m. Crash HARD. Wake up, feed kids, get kids through a few basic necessary chores, feed them again, take them & food to neighbor's for the day so I can drive *back* up to Savannah to visit DH in the hospital where he's had a bad reaction to a new antibiotic they put him on. He sleeps the whole time I'm there; finally I head back home, stopping at the grocery store on the way. Home in time to get kids to bed.
Mon: take kids to visit DH in hospital; when he gets overwhelmed by them, I take them to the mall where they fuss & whine that I won't get them All The Things, they complain they're starving then eat 2 bites of dinner & say they're full. Home. Bed, dammit. Through all these days there's a weird knocking under the car.
Tues: take kids to optometrist b/c DinoBoy has been having trouble seeing the board in school. Insurance does not cover. Yay. Take kids home; make them eat lunch. Get ready to go to Sav to pick up DH who's getting discharged today. Going to leave kids home alone b/c should only be a couple of hours... Ha! 1st hear bloody murder being screamed from house before I even start the car. Go in; it's Girl-child being bitchy. Make everyone get in car. Drive to Savannah for 5th time in 4 days. Wait for 4+ hrs for DH to (finally) get discharged. Start for home; realize kids have school tomorrow so we should eat on the way. Pick a restaurant 4 blocks from hospital. Takes us 20 min to drive the <2 miles. Eat (it was YUM. Five Guys). Get caught in *different* traffic on other end of town after a relatively smooth drive *through* town. Tire blows. DH & the boys change the tire (Girl-child would have helped but didn't want to get dirty). Drop DH at Wal-mart to put in his Rx's; take kids home; rush boys through showers & brushing teeth & into bed. Drive back to Wal-mart to take DH his wallet & pick up a new window fan b/c the one in our room isn't working.
DH is finally home. He's still on the antibiotic that gave him a bad reaction, but he's OK as long as he takes Benadryl about half an hour before the antibiotic. He's also on Oxycodone for pain, which means he can't drive which means he's going to miss a week's work (wonderful...) on top of which we now have to replace a tire and there's still that weird banging noise...
If it's not one thing, it's another...
But there was this cute little froggie on the door at one point, so that's a happy...
Monday, May 12, 2014
Gah... I feel like I'm always apologizing to my blog...
It's just...been so random lately. Without internet at home, I don't always think to actually write up blog posts (although they percolate through my brain nearly constantly. Of course, if I leave them there, they disappear completely when the next Idea traipses through...). And of course there's been a million and one other things happening to put this on hold, as it were -- we're nearly at the end of the school year and I'm looking for a part time job to help defray expenses because we had to start getting health insurance through DH's work because he's having some health issues, and he's probably going to have to get out of the reserves. And how me working is going to work with the kids being home, I do NOT know; I'm a bit stressed about that, TBH, but don't really see any alternative. DH's mom is having some pretty massive health issues; there's question as to whether or not she's going to be with us much longer, and that, of course, has plunged part of the family into dramadramadrama in addition to their usual... let's be honest, compared to my family, who are weird and random and dramatic, DH's family is full of so many Drama Llamas, I'm just exhausted by it all.
On the Up Side, I'm learning how to use Jutoh to turn a Word document into various other types of downloadable ebooks for self-publishing. I've got the basics down; now I'm just playing with specific special things. Maybe I can leverage that into something that brings some actual money in (at least enough to get internet back?) so I'm kind of excited about that. And I want to go back to school in the fall. Not sure it's actually going to happen, honestly; I've put off getting information for some of it for so long, and it just might not work timing-wise, if I'm trying to work while the kids are in school come fall. But you never know. I can try, still.
However, our beloved Pittsburgh Penguins are doing this thing where they were playing *awesome* and had a 3-1 lead over the Rangers in their current playoff series and then they... I don't know. Anyway, they lost 2 games in a row. It's hard to tell exactly how they fell apart when you're doing all your "watching" via Twitter updates. Anyway, they have a game tomorrow. If they manage to somehow pull themselves up by the bootstraps and win, they go on to the semifinals where they'll be playing either the Boston Bruins or the Montreal Canadiens; otherwise, the NYRangers go on... So, keeping my fingers crossed.
And now... to fill out some applications online and see if I can write a resume that's good enough, with virtually no real-life work experience, and all of that happening 10+ years ago, to get me a job that's neither Wal-Mart or fast food. I've done that before and nearly anything is preferable...
On the Up Side, I'm learning how to use Jutoh to turn a Word document into various other types of downloadable ebooks for self-publishing. I've got the basics down; now I'm just playing with specific special things. Maybe I can leverage that into something that brings some actual money in (at least enough to get internet back?) so I'm kind of excited about that. And I want to go back to school in the fall. Not sure it's actually going to happen, honestly; I've put off getting information for some of it for so long, and it just might not work timing-wise, if I'm trying to work while the kids are in school come fall. But you never know. I can try, still.
However, our beloved Pittsburgh Penguins are doing this thing where they were playing *awesome* and had a 3-1 lead over the Rangers in their current playoff series and then they... I don't know. Anyway, they lost 2 games in a row. It's hard to tell exactly how they fell apart when you're doing all your "watching" via Twitter updates. Anyway, they have a game tomorrow. If they manage to somehow pull themselves up by the bootstraps and win, they go on to the semifinals where they'll be playing either the Boston Bruins or the Montreal Canadiens; otherwise, the NYRangers go on... So, keeping my fingers crossed.
And now... to fill out some applications online and see if I can write a resume that's good enough, with virtually no real-life work experience, and all of that happening 10+ years ago, to get me a job that's neither Wal-Mart or fast food. I've done that before and nearly anything is preferable...
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Here we go again...
Sometimes I just get so caught up in the rollercoaster that is frequently my life that I forget to take a few minutes to myself to just stop and breathe.
Of course, sometimes, I have the actual *time* to stop and breathe, but I'm afraid if I do I won't be able to restart, or I'll drop one of the carefully juggled balls, or I'll just...give up. Which is kind of the same as not restarting, or at least very similar.
I'm caught between loving my life and hating it a little, and I feel torn and guilty. I am trying really very hard to not hold myself to standards that are not actually my own.
I don't know; maybe I'm overthinking. Probably. The problem with my particular rollercoaster is that it doesn't exactly require a lot of brainpower. The stuff I love, the stuff I hate -- it's all stuff that keeps my body occupied but doesn't exactly engage the mind all that much.
I've thought about trying to take random classes, just, you know, stuff I'm interested in but aren't necessarily part of some big Plan for My Life, but...that kind of thing just isn't available here in town, and between kids and travel time and gas prices, I can't go elsewhere looking for it. Maybe I need to set some local goals, like retraining myself to read a little more critically, or less for enjoyment (some stuff, at least). And, I don't know... maybe some other stuff? volunteer work? I have so many things running through my brain sometimes, and none of them ever quite seem to click with me.
I'm feeling a bit like Charlie Brown right about now: "'Nothing lasts forever, All good things must end.' I've memorized that phrase by heart. So, tell me, I need to know it... When do the good things start?" (Only, yeah, I've had some good things. But this particular moment in time is kinda short on them.)
DH & I are still talking about moving to Pittsburgh within the next couple of years. I am so beyond ready for that.
Of course, sometimes, I have the actual *time* to stop and breathe, but I'm afraid if I do I won't be able to restart, or I'll drop one of the carefully juggled balls, or I'll just...give up. Which is kind of the same as not restarting, or at least very similar.
I'm caught between loving my life and hating it a little, and I feel torn and guilty. I am trying really very hard to not hold myself to standards that are not actually my own.
I don't know; maybe I'm overthinking. Probably. The problem with my particular rollercoaster is that it doesn't exactly require a lot of brainpower. The stuff I love, the stuff I hate -- it's all stuff that keeps my body occupied but doesn't exactly engage the mind all that much.
I've thought about trying to take random classes, just, you know, stuff I'm interested in but aren't necessarily part of some big Plan for My Life, but...that kind of thing just isn't available here in town, and between kids and travel time and gas prices, I can't go elsewhere looking for it. Maybe I need to set some local goals, like retraining myself to read a little more critically, or less for enjoyment (some stuff, at least). And, I don't know... maybe some other stuff? volunteer work? I have so many things running through my brain sometimes, and none of them ever quite seem to click with me.
I'm feeling a bit like Charlie Brown right about now: "'Nothing lasts forever, All good things must end.' I've memorized that phrase by heart. So, tell me, I need to know it... When do the good things start?" (Only, yeah, I've had some good things. But this particular moment in time is kinda short on them.)
DH & I are still talking about moving to Pittsburgh within the next couple of years. I am so beyond ready for that.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Sieve-for-Brains
I actually had something I wanted to say on here.
I can't remember it now...
Anyway, mostly I've been doing my thing (looking at pictures & gifs & videos of primarily hockey players) on tumblr.
I'm not making much progress in doing things that need doing; I need to start setting timers even more than alarms, I think. & maybe when we have medical insurance again, I should see about figuring out what the hell it is that keeps me so tired & unmotivated all the time. It's kinda getting old; I'm done with feeling mentally foggy all the time.
I'm trying to get back into the habit of yoga every day. I may have to start letting the kids practice with me; otherwise I won't have time till midnight every night (starting Friday they have a WHOLE WEEK off school, then they only have about 3-4 more weeks before the super-long winter break (which is at least a month long).
I dunno, it feels like I had something of substance to say, but I can't think what it is, still.
Laundry and reading...
I can't remember it now...
Anyway, mostly I've been doing my thing (looking at pictures & gifs & videos of primarily hockey players) on tumblr.
I'm not making much progress in doing things that need doing; I need to start setting timers even more than alarms, I think. & maybe when we have medical insurance again, I should see about figuring out what the hell it is that keeps me so tired & unmotivated all the time. It's kinda getting old; I'm done with feeling mentally foggy all the time.
I'm trying to get back into the habit of yoga every day. I may have to start letting the kids practice with me; otherwise I won't have time till midnight every night (starting Friday they have a WHOLE WEEK off school, then they only have about 3-4 more weeks before the super-long winter break (which is at least a month long).
I dunno, it feels like I had something of substance to say, but I can't think what it is, still.
Laundry and reading...
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
More thinking-out-loud about girly parts and sexual content of books and what doesn't bother me.
We seem to have a new kerfuffle which is really just an old kerfuffle revisited around the community in which I read and interact. We'll just call it the OMGLADYBITS!! problem and move on from there.
I'm just going to make a brief rebuttal of some things that were said on a site which shall be nameless (if for some reason you don't know but want to, email or something and I'll tell you but you will probably be all head-asplodey) and which I have since removed from my blog feed because really? I don't need that shit in my life right now, and anyway, as a review site it was becoming less and less relevant to my actual INTERESTS, y'know, because of how books that I thought sucked donkeywater were given highest accolades and books that I thought were funny/cute/interesting/otherwise pushed some boundaries in an opening-up-the-mind kind of way were dismissed as lame/trite/blah/whatthefuckever.
ANYway.
I read. I read a LOT of stuff, yeah, some "Literary Fiction" and some nonfiction, and mystery and science fiction and fantasy and and and... yeah. Most of what I read, though, is romance. Or one of the other things with strong romantic elements.
People like to put things in boxes.
Boxes are OK, sometimes. I mean, I like to have a box (basket, drawer, whatevs) to keep my cheeses separate from my eggs separate from my condiments in my fridge. I have a nice little box in the pantry which I keep full of approved snack items for my kids where they can reach, and I have another nice little box out of their reach where I keep the "Only Occasionally" treats. I have a box for the kitty litter, because, let's be honest, you *don't* want that just spreading out all over the floor.
You know what I don't put in boxes? Books.
Piles, yes. Shelves, naturally. Randomly stuck down the side of the couch so I can pick it right back up in the morning? Oh, HELLS yeah. Boxes, though? Not so much. Only when we're moving. Or I'm mailing them to someone. For a while, I kept some in a box under my bed, but then I decided I wasn't ashamed of it, I just didn't want my 7YO boy reading b/c Holy Inappropriate, Batman! So I put all that stuff on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in my bedroom where no one but my mom and my sister ever look, and they're grown-ups and if they go poking and get shocked, SO NOT MY PROBLEM.
Also, do you know what paper books don't have that a lot of ebooks (especially from small presses) do? Warning labels. To me, that's like the Darwin Awards-worthy labels on push mowers warning the user not to pick it up & try to use it to trim the hedges. I mean, really. They should all say "Warning: Thoughts Ahead. Make Sure Mind Open, Or Put Down NOW."
So, when I read romance, I don't go into it with any expectations, beyond the expectations of a minimum of typos. And that I will be entertained (unless I'm reading for some reason other than entertainment. Even then, entertainment is a plus). And if I'm reading a romance written within the last 20 or so years, I do generally expect sex. Particularly if it's an erotic romance, when I expect LOTS of sex. Hopefully well-written sex, but I will settle for cliche and throbbing parts and excessive dampness. The point is, though, I don't look for a particular TYPE of sex. I'll take girl parts, boy parts, alien parts... in whatever combinations and numbers. I've never been "blindsided" by menages, or het sex in a gay romance, or gay/lesbian/trans* sex in a het romance. In fact, one of the reasons I gravitated AWAY from het romance is that it has been feeling too confining. There's a formula for sex, and a formula for characters, and a formula for story. I hoped by moving over toward more of a LGBTQ-friendly reading space, I would come across different types of relationships, characters who didn't fall into the same old stereotypes, new takes on old tropes...
For the most part, I've found that. There's been less of the -LBTQ than of the G-, granted, but I'm digging a little deeper and seeing more. I'm seeing more interracial romances, some May-Decembers where the balance of power is a bit different. I'm even seeing more babies -- with fewer Plot Moppets, although still plenty of those -- which I love (side note: I've seen some people despairing that some of their favorite series are moving toward the baby-crazy, despite being m/m pairings. I'm all like, YES PLEASE MORE OF THAT! because you don't have to be ovaried to believe "Families should grow, not shrink." (quote from Strawberries for Dessert by the lovely Marie Sexton).
So, dear authors who might accidentally read this, Give me girly bits along with the man-sex! I'll read it! The only place I demand to know what to expect sexually is the space where I'm sharing said sexual content with my very own husband in our very own bed. I don't object to warnings about dubious consent because my enjoyment of that is dubious, at best, but I also don't refuse to read it. And I only DNF if I can't actually connect with characters or plot -- some of those stories would probably have been improved by more sex! Give me variety! Give me interesting people doing interesting things! (It doesn't have to be save-the-world interesting; I'm a homebody, so domestic weirdness interests me.)
And, hey, if I ever run across ACTUAL heterosexual intercourse in a romance with gay male protagonists, maybe I'll be shocked enough to actually review it!
I'm just going to make a brief rebuttal of some things that were said on a site which shall be nameless (if for some reason you don't know but want to, email or something and I'll tell you but you will probably be all head-asplodey) and which I have since removed from my blog feed because really? I don't need that shit in my life right now, and anyway, as a review site it was becoming less and less relevant to my actual INTERESTS, y'know, because of how books that I thought sucked donkeywater were given highest accolades and books that I thought were funny/cute/interesting/otherwise pushed some boundaries in an opening-up-the-mind kind of way were dismissed as lame/trite/blah/whatthefuckever.
ANYway.
I read. I read a LOT of stuff, yeah, some "Literary Fiction" and some nonfiction, and mystery and science fiction and fantasy and and and... yeah. Most of what I read, though, is romance. Or one of the other things with strong romantic elements.
People like to put things in boxes.
Boxes are OK, sometimes. I mean, I like to have a box (basket, drawer, whatevs) to keep my cheeses separate from my eggs separate from my condiments in my fridge. I have a nice little box in the pantry which I keep full of approved snack items for my kids where they can reach, and I have another nice little box out of their reach where I keep the "Only Occasionally" treats. I have a box for the kitty litter, because, let's be honest, you *don't* want that just spreading out all over the floor.
You know what I don't put in boxes? Books.
Piles, yes. Shelves, naturally. Randomly stuck down the side of the couch so I can pick it right back up in the morning? Oh, HELLS yeah. Boxes, though? Not so much. Only when we're moving. Or I'm mailing them to someone. For a while, I kept some in a box under my bed, but then I decided I wasn't ashamed of it, I just didn't want my 7YO boy reading b/c Holy Inappropriate, Batman! So I put all that stuff on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in my bedroom where no one but my mom and my sister ever look, and they're grown-ups and if they go poking and get shocked, SO NOT MY PROBLEM.
Also, do you know what paper books don't have that a lot of ebooks (especially from small presses) do? Warning labels. To me, that's like the Darwin Awards-worthy labels on push mowers warning the user not to pick it up & try to use it to trim the hedges. I mean, really. They should all say "Warning: Thoughts Ahead. Make Sure Mind Open, Or Put Down NOW."
So, when I read romance, I don't go into it with any expectations, beyond the expectations of a minimum of typos. And that I will be entertained (unless I'm reading for some reason other than entertainment. Even then, entertainment is a plus). And if I'm reading a romance written within the last 20 or so years, I do generally expect sex. Particularly if it's an erotic romance, when I expect LOTS of sex. Hopefully well-written sex, but I will settle for cliche and throbbing parts and excessive dampness. The point is, though, I don't look for a particular TYPE of sex. I'll take girl parts, boy parts, alien parts... in whatever combinations and numbers. I've never been "blindsided" by menages, or het sex in a gay romance, or gay/lesbian/trans* sex in a het romance. In fact, one of the reasons I gravitated AWAY from het romance is that it has been feeling too confining. There's a formula for sex, and a formula for characters, and a formula for story. I hoped by moving over toward more of a LGBTQ-friendly reading space, I would come across different types of relationships, characters who didn't fall into the same old stereotypes, new takes on old tropes...
For the most part, I've found that. There's been less of the -LBTQ than of the G-, granted, but I'm digging a little deeper and seeing more. I'm seeing more interracial romances, some May-Decembers where the balance of power is a bit different. I'm even seeing more babies -- with fewer Plot Moppets, although still plenty of those -- which I love (side note: I've seen some people despairing that some of their favorite series are moving toward the baby-crazy, despite being m/m pairings. I'm all like, YES PLEASE MORE OF THAT! because you don't have to be ovaried to believe "Families should grow, not shrink." (quote from Strawberries for Dessert by the lovely Marie Sexton).
So, dear authors who might accidentally read this, Give me girly bits along with the man-sex! I'll read it! The only place I demand to know what to expect sexually is the space where I'm sharing said sexual content with my very own husband in our very own bed. I don't object to warnings about dubious consent because my enjoyment of that is dubious, at best, but I also don't refuse to read it. And I only DNF if I can't actually connect with characters or plot -- some of those stories would probably have been improved by more sex! Give me variety! Give me interesting people doing interesting things! (It doesn't have to be save-the-world interesting; I'm a homebody, so domestic weirdness interests me.)
And, hey, if I ever run across ACTUAL heterosexual intercourse in a romance with gay male protagonists, maybe I'll be shocked enough to actually review it!
Friday, April 12, 2013
Religion and Reading and a LOT of Rambling
So, I was chatting with a friend over Twitter about religion -- specifically regarding interpretation of the Bible/Torah/Your Holy Book of Choice -- and how that can damage people. And then I read an article somewhere about the movie (or TV miniseries? I don't know) called The Bible, wherein Satan was deliberately portrayed as Barack Obama (which just disgusts me on levels I don't feel up to getting into here and now) and THAT article discussed the whitewashing of the Bible in terms of artistic portrayals -- Jesus is Westernized as a very toned, pale-skinned, nearly-blonde man, instead of the medium- to dark-skinned Middle Eastern Jew he actually was. [ETA: here is the article] And then TODAY, I was chatting briefly with someone else about some of the defining books of our teens -- books like Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series by Douglas Adams -- and when it's appropriate to start indoctrinating my little Minions by reading them aloud at bedtime. My oldest, the Girl-child, at Very Nearly 13, is probably old enough to read them on her own, but sometimes I have difficulties getting her to actually, y'know, ACCEPT my suggestions. The boys are 7 and 9, and I think they *might* be a little young, but DinoBoy, the elder of the two, is pretty precocious and sophisticated in some ways, so I could be wrong about him. And I think he might enjoy some of the humor, even if he won't get a lot of the references for years yet, if ever.
And we mentioned, in passing, on Twitter, that we're only just now, as adults, starting to realize the number of those references and subtleties that we missed as kids, and how much deeper and richer certain narratives are when approached from this new, grown-up perspective.
So this little ramble today is probably going to be about those things -- books, particularly the ones I read as a teenager for the first time; how they affected me then; how they affect me now that I'm starting to share them more and more with my own kids; and, of course, though to a lesser extent, religion.
I think there are actually a LOT of books that I read in my teens which affected me profoundly then, but which I continue to be amazed and enthralled by (in new and exciting ways!) now that I'm an adult -- and more pertinently, perhaps, now that I'm married and a parent. Because I can't deny that those two things probably have more to do with the new sight than simple age. Just a few of those books, offhand, are the Anne of Green Gables series, Little Women, Good Omens, Hitchhiker's Guide, and most of Mercedes Lackey. I don't think I'm going to touch on ALL of them here today; it's been a while since I've read some of them, and I'm not too clear on some of the details, but suffice it to say that between Louisa May Alcott, Lucy Maud Montgomery, and the combination of Pratchett and Gaiman, I had *quite* a religious awakening as a teen.
I mean, I'd had a basic religious "education" as a kid. We went reasonably regularly to a surprisingly non-judgmental Baptist church in TN until I was 10, where I was completely miserable because I just could not make friends with any of the other kids in the youth group. I suspected then, and still do, that it was (as it sometimes still continues to be) the fact that I not only read, but I asked questions about what I read. And I expected logical, consistent answers, which religion is usually hard-pressed to provide. When I was 10, we moved to Ohio. We stopped going to church regularly, but when we did it was to services at a nearby Presbyterian church, and that was when I fell in love with the more formal service, and the music of religion, but still, most of the logic managed to elude me. At 12, we moved to a small town outside of Atlanta, and the nearest church was another Baptist Church -- a HUGE one, comparatively -- where the pastor preached about the Evils of Women in the Work Place, and about tithing. This went over like a lead weight with us, because at the time, my mom was the sole earner. A year later, we moved again, to Virginia, where my parents still live, and, again, had a bad Baptist experience, at which point, my parents pretty much gave up. They figured we had the basics of how to behave as socially responsible, polite little people, and the rest would work itself out on its own. And Mom made sure to leave various books lying around for our education and amusement.
So, Faith (of the kind that can, theoretically move mountains) wasn't exactly a high priority, nor was it mashed and stuffed down our throat like some kind of baby food for the toothless. We were given a basic road map, and the tools to navigate, and allowed to find our own way there, or not. And honestly, a lot of what passes for my faith was built on the backs of Anne Shirley and the March girls. They had what now seems like a simplistic but logical view based largely on the tenet "Do Unto Others" and they still struggled with that, in a way that I struggled with it. But they really tried to simply be kind to others, generous with those in need, and honest and non-judgmental with themselves and others. The "Thou Shalt Not" stuff was rarely, if ever, an issue, and, while I know it's probably more a sign of their times than a deliberate event, things like women bringing in a paycheck were not looked down on. Yes, there was a bit of racism/bigotry in some attitudes, and some classism, but those tended to be confined to the group of "older and set in their ways," rather than condoned by the characters the stories were really about.
However, I had issues with religion as it was presented to me in Real Life, particularly relating to things like the Old Testament's attitudes toward anything and everything, and how nobody seemed really interested in the Love & Kindness stuff unless it was directed toward them personally, and I really had trouble reconciling the omniscient/omnipotent God with the whole Garden of Eden and Fall of Lucifer, as well as the whole issue of free will, who has it, who doesn't, and why on Earth we would be told it was a huge gift from God in one breath while the next breath told us not to question what we were being told. There were just too many contradictions for me in all of that, and then World History started getting into the evolution of religion in the Western world, and there was fracturing and schisms and latching on to established Holy/Ritualistic/Spiritual days and just... I was spinning.
And then, my best friend and I were at the library together (as you do) and she handed me this book: hardback, black cover with white writing, nattily-suited angel and devil. "This is the funniest, smartest book I've ever read. You'll love it, I promise. I mean, listen to this list of characters!" and I was hooked when she got to the bit about Crowley: An angel who didn't so much fall as saunter vaguely downward.
So I read it. And read it again. And a third time, just to be sure. And it addressed -- and seemed to be just as bewildered by -- many of the same issues that had been bothering me, in that nebulous, can't-really-put-my-finger-on-it way, with humor and gentleness and sometimes harshness and... I was completely blown away. It wasn't me -- or wasn't JUST me. Some of this stuff didn't really make any sense!
And then, I passed it on to my mom, who also loved it. And my brother and sister...
And now, I've finally been able to reconcile my spiritual side with my skeptical side. Religion is all about interpretation, and doing the best you can. You can choose to believe blindly, thoughtlessly, the interpretation of others, or you can exercise free will and choose your own interpretation. I think the most important -- the ONLY important -- part of the Bible or any other religious work that I've studied (however cursorily) boils down to what we call the Golden Rule: "Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You."
In the end, if there is a God, I think I will be judged based on my intentions, not my slavish adherence to another's need to Be In Charge and Tell Others What To Do. I think He'll be a more generous judge than many "more religious" people seem to believe.
And if there's not? Well, by that point maybe I won't be aware. But either way, I'll have the personal satisfaction of know that I'm trying, as hard as I can, to be kind, generous, honest, loving, and non-judgmental.
What more can we really ask?
And we mentioned, in passing, on Twitter, that we're only just now, as adults, starting to realize the number of those references and subtleties that we missed as kids, and how much deeper and richer certain narratives are when approached from this new, grown-up perspective.
So this little ramble today is probably going to be about those things -- books, particularly the ones I read as a teenager for the first time; how they affected me then; how they affect me now that I'm starting to share them more and more with my own kids; and, of course, though to a lesser extent, religion.
I think there are actually a LOT of books that I read in my teens which affected me profoundly then, but which I continue to be amazed and enthralled by (in new and exciting ways!) now that I'm an adult -- and more pertinently, perhaps, now that I'm married and a parent. Because I can't deny that those two things probably have more to do with the new sight than simple age. Just a few of those books, offhand, are the Anne of Green Gables series, Little Women, Good Omens, Hitchhiker's Guide, and most of Mercedes Lackey. I don't think I'm going to touch on ALL of them here today; it's been a while since I've read some of them, and I'm not too clear on some of the details, but suffice it to say that between Louisa May Alcott, Lucy Maud Montgomery, and the combination of Pratchett and Gaiman, I had *quite* a religious awakening as a teen.
I mean, I'd had a basic religious "education" as a kid. We went reasonably regularly to a surprisingly non-judgmental Baptist church in TN until I was 10, where I was completely miserable because I just could not make friends with any of the other kids in the youth group. I suspected then, and still do, that it was (as it sometimes still continues to be) the fact that I not only read, but I asked questions about what I read. And I expected logical, consistent answers, which religion is usually hard-pressed to provide. When I was 10, we moved to Ohio. We stopped going to church regularly, but when we did it was to services at a nearby Presbyterian church, and that was when I fell in love with the more formal service, and the music of religion, but still, most of the logic managed to elude me. At 12, we moved to a small town outside of Atlanta, and the nearest church was another Baptist Church -- a HUGE one, comparatively -- where the pastor preached about the Evils of Women in the Work Place, and about tithing. This went over like a lead weight with us, because at the time, my mom was the sole earner. A year later, we moved again, to Virginia, where my parents still live, and, again, had a bad Baptist experience, at which point, my parents pretty much gave up. They figured we had the basics of how to behave as socially responsible, polite little people, and the rest would work itself out on its own. And Mom made sure to leave various books lying around for our education and amusement.
So, Faith (of the kind that can, theoretically move mountains) wasn't exactly a high priority, nor was it mashed and stuffed down our throat like some kind of baby food for the toothless. We were given a basic road map, and the tools to navigate, and allowed to find our own way there, or not. And honestly, a lot of what passes for my faith was built on the backs of Anne Shirley and the March girls. They had what now seems like a simplistic but logical view based largely on the tenet "Do Unto Others" and they still struggled with that, in a way that I struggled with it. But they really tried to simply be kind to others, generous with those in need, and honest and non-judgmental with themselves and others. The "Thou Shalt Not" stuff was rarely, if ever, an issue, and, while I know it's probably more a sign of their times than a deliberate event, things like women bringing in a paycheck were not looked down on. Yes, there was a bit of racism/bigotry in some attitudes, and some classism, but those tended to be confined to the group of "older and set in their ways," rather than condoned by the characters the stories were really about.
However, I had issues with religion as it was presented to me in Real Life, particularly relating to things like the Old Testament's attitudes toward anything and everything, and how nobody seemed really interested in the Love & Kindness stuff unless it was directed toward them personally, and I really had trouble reconciling the omniscient/omnipotent God with the whole Garden of Eden and Fall of Lucifer, as well as the whole issue of free will, who has it, who doesn't, and why on Earth we would be told it was a huge gift from God in one breath while the next breath told us not to question what we were being told. There were just too many contradictions for me in all of that, and then World History started getting into the evolution of religion in the Western world, and there was fracturing and schisms and latching on to established Holy/Ritualistic/Spiritual days and just... I was spinning.
And then, my best friend and I were at the library together (as you do) and she handed me this book: hardback, black cover with white writing, nattily-suited angel and devil. "This is the funniest, smartest book I've ever read. You'll love it, I promise. I mean, listen to this list of characters!" and I was hooked when she got to the bit about Crowley: An angel who didn't so much fall as saunter vaguely downward.
So I read it. And read it again. And a third time, just to be sure. And it addressed -- and seemed to be just as bewildered by -- many of the same issues that had been bothering me, in that nebulous, can't-really-put-my-finger-on-it way, with humor and gentleness and sometimes harshness and... I was completely blown away. It wasn't me -- or wasn't JUST me. Some of this stuff didn't really make any sense!
And then, I passed it on to my mom, who also loved it. And my brother and sister...
And now, I've finally been able to reconcile my spiritual side with my skeptical side. Religion is all about interpretation, and doing the best you can. You can choose to believe blindly, thoughtlessly, the interpretation of others, or you can exercise free will and choose your own interpretation. I think the most important -- the ONLY important -- part of the Bible or any other religious work that I've studied (however cursorily) boils down to what we call the Golden Rule: "Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You."
In the end, if there is a God, I think I will be judged based on my intentions, not my slavish adherence to another's need to Be In Charge and Tell Others What To Do. I think He'll be a more generous judge than many "more religious" people seem to believe.
And if there's not? Well, by that point maybe I won't be aware. But either way, I'll have the personal satisfaction of know that I'm trying, as hard as I can, to be kind, generous, honest, loving, and non-judgmental.
What more can we really ask?
Monday, December 31, 2012
Happy New Year's Eve!
I feel like the blogs I read are full of looking back at the past year, and looking forward to the next, and part of me wants to do that, but part of me... well, let's just say that there was a lot of crap that went down over the past year that doesn't bear looking back on -- partly because I didn't really share a lot of it with many people, and so it would require too much backstory, and I refuse to infodump on my blog, but mostly because I'm afraid if I bring it all back up again, it'll just upset me and mess up the things that are going right right now.
Which is a most awkward sentence, I'm aware.
I have a couple of things I want to write about, like VelcroBoy's social studies project (we made a wattle-and-daub roundhouse with a thatched roof and I have a TON of pictures) and Christmas presents, and things like that. And I don't really *do* New Year's resolutions -- I have a tendency to kind of overdo and then completely fail before the end of January. So let's just say we're counting a promise to the DH as one (we've got a 3-times-a-week lunch date at the gym for the ellipticals, God help me...) and I really want to make more of an effort to have people over for dinner every once in a while. We had our neighbor and her 18-month old son over the Friday before Christmas for pizza night. I gave kidlet a box of jingle bells to play with and he spent the better part of the evening hanging them off the ears of this cat statue I have, while singing "Jingie bews, jingie bews!" to himself. We cracked up, and I have pictures of the statue on my phone. And later this week, we're having a guy from DH's old unit & his wife & 2YO son over. They're getting the boys' Thomas the Tank Engine stuff that I finally talked DinoBoy & VelcroBoy into getting rid of. I may keep a piece or two around just for old-time's sake, and I like to have a few things around for when we have guests with kids littler than my own, but we don't have space for a LOT of stuff like that, so the trains get to find a new home.
Also, I have some bloggy-ness percolating in my brain on two topics -- both of them are sort-of book reviews, but one is also, and more largely, on the general topic of teacher/student relationships, and all the ways they can go wrong. I'm pretty passionate about this one, since my mom is a professor, and there are plenty of pitfalls in that type of relationship, but there are (surprisingly enough, or not-so-surprisingly, depending on how much attention you pay to little details) other issues that get completely overlooked. Like, for instance, relative ages of the two parties involved. The other one is just mostly about little details that really make a story *work* or not -- even when they're mostly peripheral details (for example, describing a house as "modest" and "average" but then filling the living room with enough furniture for three or four normal living rooms -- or a good-sized furniture showroom -- can really mess with an "average" reader's head. Just sayin'.)
Also, I have NO IDEA when my Christmas stuff is going to get packed away. I need to get one more storage container this year, and before I do anything else I want to work on the boys' bedroom (which will probably require *several* new storage containers) and honestly, I would *LOVE* to keep my houses out year-round. I just don't think that the hearth is the best place for that. Maybe I'll keep the Victorian house out; it's not all snowy or Dickensian, and kind of looks like it was made for year-round admiration. I'll have to do some furniture juggling and/or get a console table for my record player. Oh, and after 2 years, I'm finally going to break down and see about getting my dishwasher either fixed or replaced. Either one works for me, I'm not really all in to "features" or whatever. I'm just a little overwhelmed by the volume of dishes that generally need washing, and I want to wash my pretties but can't because day-to-day dishes take up so much room in my sink and on my counter.
And I love my Mommy and my Daddy. They are the absolute BEST. *blows kisses in their direction*
Which is a most awkward sentence, I'm aware.
I have a couple of things I want to write about, like VelcroBoy's social studies project (we made a wattle-and-daub roundhouse with a thatched roof and I have a TON of pictures) and Christmas presents, and things like that. And I don't really *do* New Year's resolutions -- I have a tendency to kind of overdo and then completely fail before the end of January. So let's just say we're counting a promise to the DH as one (we've got a 3-times-a-week lunch date at the gym for the ellipticals, God help me...) and I really want to make more of an effort to have people over for dinner every once in a while. We had our neighbor and her 18-month old son over the Friday before Christmas for pizza night. I gave kidlet a box of jingle bells to play with and he spent the better part of the evening hanging them off the ears of this cat statue I have, while singing "Jingie bews, jingie bews!" to himself. We cracked up, and I have pictures of the statue on my phone. And later this week, we're having a guy from DH's old unit & his wife & 2YO son over. They're getting the boys' Thomas the Tank Engine stuff that I finally talked DinoBoy & VelcroBoy into getting rid of. I may keep a piece or two around just for old-time's sake, and I like to have a few things around for when we have guests with kids littler than my own, but we don't have space for a LOT of stuff like that, so the trains get to find a new home.
Also, I have some bloggy-ness percolating in my brain on two topics -- both of them are sort-of book reviews, but one is also, and more largely, on the general topic of teacher/student relationships, and all the ways they can go wrong. I'm pretty passionate about this one, since my mom is a professor, and there are plenty of pitfalls in that type of relationship, but there are (surprisingly enough, or not-so-surprisingly, depending on how much attention you pay to little details) other issues that get completely overlooked. Like, for instance, relative ages of the two parties involved. The other one is just mostly about little details that really make a story *work* or not -- even when they're mostly peripheral details (for example, describing a house as "modest" and "average" but then filling the living room with enough furniture for three or four normal living rooms -- or a good-sized furniture showroom -- can really mess with an "average" reader's head. Just sayin'.)
Also, I have NO IDEA when my Christmas stuff is going to get packed away. I need to get one more storage container this year, and before I do anything else I want to work on the boys' bedroom (which will probably require *several* new storage containers) and honestly, I would *LOVE* to keep my houses out year-round. I just don't think that the hearth is the best place for that. Maybe I'll keep the Victorian house out; it's not all snowy or Dickensian, and kind of looks like it was made for year-round admiration. I'll have to do some furniture juggling and/or get a console table for my record player. Oh, and after 2 years, I'm finally going to break down and see about getting my dishwasher either fixed or replaced. Either one works for me, I'm not really all in to "features" or whatever. I'm just a little overwhelmed by the volume of dishes that generally need washing, and I want to wash my pretties but can't because day-to-day dishes take up so much room in my sink and on my counter.
And I love my Mommy and my Daddy. They are the absolute BEST. *blows kisses in their direction*
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Food for Thought
I know there are a lot of jokes about Chinese food, but the truth is, I kind of love the fortune cookie part of going out for Chinese. The Horde and I went out to the local buffet at the request of DinoBoy (his party was today, although his actual birthday is Monday). The Girl-child and I got some pretty basic pabulum, nothing special, but the boys both got "Food for thought" fortunes. I love those -- some random bit of truth that forces you to think about yourself and the people around you. You especially get that effect when there's a smallish child self-aware enough to ask, "What does that even MEAN?" and you have to try to explain this concept of philosophy or ethics or culture or whatever to them.
DinoBoy's fortune read "We judge others by actions; we judge ourselves by intentions." I really really love this one. It's a concept I sometimes struggle to get across to others -- my kids or my DH -- that when someone is hurting because of your words, or because your words don't match your actions, or simply don't SEEM to to this person outside of you, it really doesn't matter what you THINK or FEEL or think you're putting out there. Intentions are well and good, but we are the only ones who can really know our own intentions. I might *think* I understand my husband's, but I can't really know for sure; all I can do is judge to the best of my ability.
That's a hard concept to teach a kid: the idea that sometimes, you can say or do something intending it as a kindness, but that it doesn't always appear that way to the person you're trying to help. What to you may seem a simple offer of help or support may rub the wrong way or play on fears you don't know about and come across to the other person as a judgment on them, or an attempt on your part to show them up and make them feel inferior.
It's easy to assume that because WE know what we intend, that others will, as well. It's much harder to remember that they're not seeing those intentions; and that everyone filters other people's words and actions through a lens built on their own experiences and insecurities.
VelcroBoy's fortune was "The best way to succeed in life is to act on the advice you give to others." I like that. It's fairly simple and straightforward. If you tell someone X is the way to get to what you want, and you're not doing X, then why should they listen to you? And if X is the path then why are you not on it yourself? Although I think it's more simple than that, even. It's the antithesis of the old saw, "Do as I say, not as I do." That one's a particular trap for parents, I've found; one I'm trying not to fall into. There's a part of me that wants to avoid chores on weekends, while telling the kids to do theirs, and I recognize that that's a form of hypocrisy. Of course, at the same time, if I'm doing my chores, I can't make sure they do theirs. And goodness knows when they're at school I have a hard time following my stated household rule of "Do the things that NEED to be done before doing the things we WANT to do." Especially when there are new books to read.
And on that note...I have books to read! Catch you later!
DinoBoy's fortune read "We judge others by actions; we judge ourselves by intentions." I really really love this one. It's a concept I sometimes struggle to get across to others -- my kids or my DH -- that when someone is hurting because of your words, or because your words don't match your actions, or simply don't SEEM to to this person outside of you, it really doesn't matter what you THINK or FEEL or think you're putting out there. Intentions are well and good, but we are the only ones who can really know our own intentions. I might *think* I understand my husband's, but I can't really know for sure; all I can do is judge to the best of my ability.
That's a hard concept to teach a kid: the idea that sometimes, you can say or do something intending it as a kindness, but that it doesn't always appear that way to the person you're trying to help. What to you may seem a simple offer of help or support may rub the wrong way or play on fears you don't know about and come across to the other person as a judgment on them, or an attempt on your part to show them up and make them feel inferior.
It's easy to assume that because WE know what we intend, that others will, as well. It's much harder to remember that they're not seeing those intentions; and that everyone filters other people's words and actions through a lens built on their own experiences and insecurities.
VelcroBoy's fortune was "The best way to succeed in life is to act on the advice you give to others." I like that. It's fairly simple and straightforward. If you tell someone X is the way to get to what you want, and you're not doing X, then why should they listen to you? And if X is the path then why are you not on it yourself? Although I think it's more simple than that, even. It's the antithesis of the old saw, "Do as I say, not as I do." That one's a particular trap for parents, I've found; one I'm trying not to fall into. There's a part of me that wants to avoid chores on weekends, while telling the kids to do theirs, and I recognize that that's a form of hypocrisy. Of course, at the same time, if I'm doing my chores, I can't make sure they do theirs. And goodness knows when they're at school I have a hard time following my stated household rule of "Do the things that NEED to be done before doing the things we WANT to do." Especially when there are new books to read.
And on that note...I have books to read! Catch you later!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Dear Blog-readers,
As you are no doubt aware (since you're also friends/followers via social media like FB/Twitter), my parents have been camping this week at Jekyll Island, and the kids & I have visited them there twice. Also we'll be spending more time with them over the summer, but for right now, I'd like to share a few pictures from yesterday -- we visited in the midst of the outskirts of Tropical Storm Debby, so the weather was cruddy, but there were some lovely photo ops. We visited the Sea Turtle Center and wandered around a museum and part of the beach on the eastern side of the island. So, pictures.
This is Kathy. She's an 18-month-old loggerhead who they hope to be able to release soon (they need a boat because all the other loggerheads of the same year are so far out to sea. Failing that, she will stay till she's the size of a dinner plate, at which time they'll be able to take her to the beach and release her because her peers will be back.)
This one is being rehabbed; unfortunately, I forgot to grab a pic of his/her name.
This is a Diamondback Terrapin hatchling, one of two they had. Its shell was about the size of a toddler's palm.
This is Caton. He kept swimming up and sticking his head here, posing for pictures. Hope he either gets better enough to go back to the ocean, or gets better enough to find a home with a zoo/aquarium where he can be an "ambassador."
This HUGE critter is an Archelon, which is an extinct genus of sea turtle dating back to the Cretaceous period. The main body part of this particular fellow was about the size of a Volkswagon Beetle.
Just thought this was lovely...a long branch of a huge old live oak blanketed in ferns.
Turtle mosaic stepping stones outside the Sea Turtle Center.
Our first view of the beach.
DinoBoy was so excited about his find: "Mommy, look! It's CORAL!"
Ocean debris is gorgeous, in an austere way.
Seagrass blowing on the tops of the dunes.
Loggerhead nesting site; may it stay safe and hatch many tiny turtles!
This is Kathy. She's an 18-month-old loggerhead who they hope to be able to release soon (they need a boat because all the other loggerheads of the same year are so far out to sea. Failing that, she will stay till she's the size of a dinner plate, at which time they'll be able to take her to the beach and release her because her peers will be back.)
This one is being rehabbed; unfortunately, I forgot to grab a pic of his/her name.
This is a Diamondback Terrapin hatchling, one of two they had. Its shell was about the size of a toddler's palm.
This is Caton. He kept swimming up and sticking his head here, posing for pictures. Hope he either gets better enough to go back to the ocean, or gets better enough to find a home with a zoo/aquarium where he can be an "ambassador."
This HUGE critter is an Archelon, which is an extinct genus of sea turtle dating back to the Cretaceous period. The main body part of this particular fellow was about the size of a Volkswagon Beetle.
Just thought this was lovely...a long branch of a huge old live oak blanketed in ferns.
Turtle mosaic stepping stones outside the Sea Turtle Center.
Our first view of the beach.
DinoBoy was so excited about his find: "Mommy, look! It's CORAL!"
Ocean debris is gorgeous, in an austere way.
Seagrass blowing on the tops of the dunes.
Loggerhead nesting site; may it stay safe and hatch many tiny turtles!
This picture was taken through the front windshield as the kids and I drove back across the causeway to the mainland.
Anyway, a good time was had by all, and we got soaked and saw some of the glory and majesty and fury of nature. If you ever find yourself nearby, I *highly* recommend Jekyll Island as a "must visit" place!
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Why I cut my hair off...
Just a random little ramble because I'm sitting in front of my computer right now...
I don't have any real pictures that I can find of my hair longer, but it was down nearly to the middle of my back. It hadn't been cut in close to a year, and was due for at least a trim. So I went for a jaw-length bob. Would you like to see?
Comments from friends & my mom have universally been that it's cute, they like it, it suits me... except my husband, who left a fairly grudging "I suppose if it makes you happy that's all that matters." (I know it was grudging because I know how he is about my hair.)
The reasons I gave people about the WHY of it are fairly simple & straightforward: It's Georgia. It's mid-April and I've had the air conditioning on since early March. My hair gets hot and heavy, and pulling it back with rubber bands or barrettes gives me headaches. And, yeah, those things are all true. But I guess I kind of left out an important one.
There's a teenytiny miniscule chance that at least partly, it was done out of irritation. I *always* have my hair back. It itches at my neck and jaw when it's loose. I keep it long because my husband likes it that way, but he never touches it, except, very occasionally, to slip his hand in at my skull. Every now and again, I can coax one of my kids to play with it -- comb & brush or practice braiding, or just flop it around with their fingers, but they're not enthusiastic about it, and, well... if no one's interested in playing with it except me, I might as well save myself some time and effort & just chop it off.
So, chopped it is. I love it. It feels so much lighter and cooler, and doesn't itch at me so much. I'm still getting used to it, though; I forget that I can't run my fingers through it and up to arms' length anymore, and I don't need to pull it out of the neck of my shirt or sweater. But mostly -- it's about me making a change that's all about me, without stopping first and wondering what someone else is gonna think. I love having people do stuff with my hair; it's relaxing. But ultimately, it's more relaxing short like this.
I don't have any real pictures that I can find of my hair longer, but it was down nearly to the middle of my back. It hadn't been cut in close to a year, and was due for at least a trim. So I went for a jaw-length bob. Would you like to see?
Comments from friends & my mom have universally been that it's cute, they like it, it suits me... except my husband, who left a fairly grudging "I suppose if it makes you happy that's all that matters." (I know it was grudging because I know how he is about my hair.)
The reasons I gave people about the WHY of it are fairly simple & straightforward: It's Georgia. It's mid-April and I've had the air conditioning on since early March. My hair gets hot and heavy, and pulling it back with rubber bands or barrettes gives me headaches. And, yeah, those things are all true. But I guess I kind of left out an important one.
There's a teenytiny miniscule chance that at least partly, it was done out of irritation. I *always* have my hair back. It itches at my neck and jaw when it's loose. I keep it long because my husband likes it that way, but he never touches it, except, very occasionally, to slip his hand in at my skull. Every now and again, I can coax one of my kids to play with it -- comb & brush or practice braiding, or just flop it around with their fingers, but they're not enthusiastic about it, and, well... if no one's interested in playing with it except me, I might as well save myself some time and effort & just chop it off.
So, chopped it is. I love it. It feels so much lighter and cooler, and doesn't itch at me so much. I'm still getting used to it, though; I forget that I can't run my fingers through it and up to arms' length anymore, and I don't need to pull it out of the neck of my shirt or sweater. But mostly -- it's about me making a change that's all about me, without stopping first and wondering what someone else is gonna think. I love having people do stuff with my hair; it's relaxing. But ultimately, it's more relaxing short like this.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Morning ramble
Yesterday, my DH left for a nine-month deployment. If you don't know where the bulk of the fighting is happening right now, I'm sorry. I don't feel up to educating you. I'm busy trying on my new normal. Yes, I've done this deployment stuff before, but each time is different. This time, there's a tiny puppy who woke me up whining, desperate to go outside to do his tiny business. So today, we have a list:
Things Which Would Have Made The Morning SO Much More Pleasant:
1. Time to use the bathroom.
2. Time to make some tea.
3. NOT discovering the Reader had no charge (C'mon, Sony, what's up with that? I'm charging my reader every couple of days or so. I know I read a lot, but that seems excessive!)
4. Fewer mosquitoes. Or not being allergic to all the effective bug sprays.
On the other hand:
Things That Were Pretty Awesome:
1. I had time to just sit in my chairs, which I love but hardly get to use because of heat/bugs.
2. The bugs really weren't that bad (I'm just the skeeters' favorite meal)
3. The temperature was gorgeous, and the sun was lovely (if on the other side of the house) and there was that sort of greeny-gold glow to everything that comes after a storm.
4. I think the puppy is finally starting to sort of maybe get the hang of this potty-training business. Although he apparently has a bladder the size of a pea. Wonder if I could litterbox-train him? LOL
Anyway, now I'm ensconced on the sofa with a big dog at my feet and a little dog snoozing beside me (he claws his way up on to the sofa; good job the cats have already damaged the upholstery, huh?). The reader is charging (maybe I should just spring for Sony's special converter-dealie to plug the USB cord into that then plugs into the electrical outlet.) The boys are happily settled under a blanket in the playroom watching some random movie or other and the girl is, apparently, still asleep. I have tea. The only thing I don't have is my husband next to me watching the highlights from last night's hockey.
The term is geographically single.
Things Which Would Have Made The Morning SO Much More Pleasant:
1. Time to use the bathroom.
2. Time to make some tea.
3. NOT discovering the Reader had no charge (C'mon, Sony, what's up with that? I'm charging my reader every couple of days or so. I know I read a lot, but that seems excessive!)
4. Fewer mosquitoes. Or not being allergic to all the effective bug sprays.
On the other hand:
Things That Were Pretty Awesome:
1. I had time to just sit in my chairs, which I love but hardly get to use because of heat/bugs.
2. The bugs really weren't that bad (I'm just the skeeters' favorite meal)
3. The temperature was gorgeous, and the sun was lovely (if on the other side of the house) and there was that sort of greeny-gold glow to everything that comes after a storm.
4. I think the puppy is finally starting to sort of maybe get the hang of this potty-training business. Although he apparently has a bladder the size of a pea. Wonder if I could litterbox-train him? LOL
Anyway, now I'm ensconced on the sofa with a big dog at my feet and a little dog snoozing beside me (he claws his way up on to the sofa; good job the cats have already damaged the upholstery, huh?). The reader is charging (maybe I should just spring for Sony's special converter-dealie to plug the USB cord into that then plugs into the electrical outlet.) The boys are happily settled under a blanket in the playroom watching some random movie or other and the girl is, apparently, still asleep. I have tea. The only thing I don't have is my husband next to me watching the highlights from last night's hockey.
The term is geographically single.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
The Human Pack
I should be at the store doing my grocery shopping; instead I had stuff tumbling over itself in my head and thought I should let some of it out before it's lost for good -- or takes over so deep I can't do anything else. This is a result of clicking on links from *this* to *that* to *hey, over here!* so I can't point you directly to any specific articles. It also has to do with Romance Novels and Erotic Romance and M/M Romance and...anyway. Onward.
One of the bits I read this morning was about homosexuality in animals, observations made by the people who make those kinds of observations about animals, and observations made by the people who make those kinds of observations about other people. And overwhelmingly, what I've noticed over the years, boils down to this: animals engage in homosexual behavior. Some of them flit from partner to partner, never bothering to learn names -- or even gender -- of the partner-of-the-moment, sowing their seed copiously. It may or may not take, depending on the partner's gender and fertility and whatnot, but...there you are. Those are the party/frat boys of the animal world. Others engage in long-term/permanent relationships with Just One Partner -- whether or not reproduction is involved depends on the genitalia. Still others are in long-term sexual relationships with members of the same genital club but will briefly defect just long enough to (hopefully) propagate the species, obeying primal biological necessity, before returning to the beloved partner.
Sound like any people you know?
The next thing I observed is the sheer volume of paranormal fantasy/romance, whether of a straight version or M/M persuasion, wherein one or more of the main characters is a shapeshifter or werebeing. Many many of these are series; plenty of the series follow a single couple through myriad trials and adventures along their course to True Love Ever After, but an equal if not greater number focus on different couples within a single unit -- pack or family or both. (Statistically, unless the pack is composed of unrelated persons who were cast out from their family groups for being gay, I seriously doubt there are *that many* gay werewolves in a single pack, though. Not that I mind, I'm just sayin'...) (and, yeah, just so you know...I've read WAY more of these in the M/M category. Probably because that's what I'm mostly reading right now.)
The difference is that within a pack of animals with no human side, those animals displaying "homosexual tendencies" are not cast out of their group, they are not treated as pariahs. As long as they can fend for themselves, other animals seem to be pretty much live-and-let-live about it. (What, do my freckles give me "redheaded tendencies"? I don't really understand that phrase -- I understand the individual words, but I think the usage is, at best, disingenuous.)
So here's what I think. I think we, as humans, are not as far removed from the animal as we would like to think we are. We believe the opposable thumb bestows some special form of self-awareness, a sense of Holier-Than-Thou, makes us somehow MORE than strictly Animal. And, in a sense, we do have some of that. We have fire. We have technology. We have domesticated animals and domesticated vegetables. And yet...does that make us better off? In the sense that we can now expand our living space to include areas that were once too cold or too hot, yes, perhaps. In the sense that we can support the kind of population growth that a lack of biological-imperative-driven fertility periods seems to inspire, yes. In the sense that we can now, to an extent, control the length or our lifespans, I suppose (although, really, that seems unnecessarily cruel in some ways. I don't exactly relish the day when I will be unable to care for myself and will have to sit through unending hours of same.)
But how are we putting that self-awareness to the test? Are we choosing to use it for general good? Are we accepting that we have the same proclivities as our animalian ancestors? We are all in search of food to eat, water to drink, shelter from cold and wet. We know that others are in need of the same things. Yet we choose to focus on superficial externals -- genitalia, sexuality -- as an excuse to decide who we feel deserves our time and attention, rather than helping out wherever we can and leaving the rest to be sorted by whoever's in charge of sorting (God, or some equivalent thereof, for most of us.)
'Scuse me; I got a bit derailed there. I was trying to make a point about pack behavior.
The pack is a unit of its own, composed of multiple individuals, and can go by many names in the animal kingdom -- hive, flock, herd...they all mean the same. When unaffected by people, these tend in general, although not exclusively, of loosely-related family groups.
And we humans have an urge to belong to a pack , or sometimes several of them. We define our packs differently. Your pack may be a family group, or a group of friends. It may be a business association, an arts council, a religious organization, a political affiliation. You may surround yourself with a pack connected by the same school, social group, ethnicity or geographic location. But you are part of at least one pack, and most probably more. And you change, from pack to pack -- the people in your family may see one You, while your office pack sees someone else with no relationship to the other beyond superficialities of appearance and home address. Perhaps you are conflicted, because the goals and ideals of one of your groups is in distinct contravention to another -- how do you reconcile a social life in which you're in love with someone of the same sex as yourself with a profoundly fundamentalist religious belief?
Maybe we need to start looking at all of the world as one big pack. Animals don't kick other animals out of the pack for any reason. We're not wholly animals anymore. We are aware of our actions; shouldn't our actions be *more* than those of animals? Even animals show compassion toward pack members who are injured; when did we (humanity as a whole) lose our ability to show compassion to all our fellows? Nobody says you have to like me, or want to make the same choices I made, but compassion dictates that you help me if they turn out to be the wrong choices. Compassion says that you support my right to live my life in a way that doesn't actually harm you.
One of the bits I read this morning was about homosexuality in animals, observations made by the people who make those kinds of observations about animals, and observations made by the people who make those kinds of observations about other people. And overwhelmingly, what I've noticed over the years, boils down to this: animals engage in homosexual behavior. Some of them flit from partner to partner, never bothering to learn names -- or even gender -- of the partner-of-the-moment, sowing their seed copiously. It may or may not take, depending on the partner's gender and fertility and whatnot, but...there you are. Those are the party/frat boys of the animal world. Others engage in long-term/permanent relationships with Just One Partner -- whether or not reproduction is involved depends on the genitalia. Still others are in long-term sexual relationships with members of the same genital club but will briefly defect just long enough to (hopefully) propagate the species, obeying primal biological necessity, before returning to the beloved partner.
Sound like any people you know?
The next thing I observed is the sheer volume of paranormal fantasy/romance, whether of a straight version or M/M persuasion, wherein one or more of the main characters is a shapeshifter or werebeing. Many many of these are series; plenty of the series follow a single couple through myriad trials and adventures along their course to True Love Ever After, but an equal if not greater number focus on different couples within a single unit -- pack or family or both. (Statistically, unless the pack is composed of unrelated persons who were cast out from their family groups for being gay, I seriously doubt there are *that many* gay werewolves in a single pack, though. Not that I mind, I'm just sayin'...) (and, yeah, just so you know...I've read WAY more of these in the M/M category. Probably because that's what I'm mostly reading right now.)
The difference is that within a pack of animals with no human side, those animals displaying "homosexual tendencies" are not cast out of their group, they are not treated as pariahs. As long as they can fend for themselves, other animals seem to be pretty much live-and-let-live about it. (What, do my freckles give me "redheaded tendencies"? I don't really understand that phrase -- I understand the individual words, but I think the usage is, at best, disingenuous.)
So here's what I think. I think we, as humans, are not as far removed from the animal as we would like to think we are. We believe the opposable thumb bestows some special form of self-awareness, a sense of Holier-Than-Thou, makes us somehow MORE than strictly Animal. And, in a sense, we do have some of that. We have fire. We have technology. We have domesticated animals and domesticated vegetables. And yet...does that make us better off? In the sense that we can now expand our living space to include areas that were once too cold or too hot, yes, perhaps. In the sense that we can support the kind of population growth that a lack of biological-imperative-driven fertility periods seems to inspire, yes. In the sense that we can now, to an extent, control the length or our lifespans, I suppose (although, really, that seems unnecessarily cruel in some ways. I don't exactly relish the day when I will be unable to care for myself and will have to sit through unending hours of same.)
But how are we putting that self-awareness to the test? Are we choosing to use it for general good? Are we accepting that we have the same proclivities as our animalian ancestors? We are all in search of food to eat, water to drink, shelter from cold and wet. We know that others are in need of the same things. Yet we choose to focus on superficial externals -- genitalia, sexuality -- as an excuse to decide who we feel deserves our time and attention, rather than helping out wherever we can and leaving the rest to be sorted by whoever's in charge of sorting (God, or some equivalent thereof, for most of us.)
'Scuse me; I got a bit derailed there. I was trying to make a point about pack behavior.
The pack is a unit of its own, composed of multiple individuals, and can go by many names in the animal kingdom -- hive, flock, herd...they all mean the same. When unaffected by people, these tend in general, although not exclusively, of loosely-related family groups.
And we humans have an urge to belong to a pack , or sometimes several of them. We define our packs differently. Your pack may be a family group, or a group of friends. It may be a business association, an arts council, a religious organization, a political affiliation. You may surround yourself with a pack connected by the same school, social group, ethnicity or geographic location. But you are part of at least one pack, and most probably more. And you change, from pack to pack -- the people in your family may see one You, while your office pack sees someone else with no relationship to the other beyond superficialities of appearance and home address. Perhaps you are conflicted, because the goals and ideals of one of your groups is in distinct contravention to another -- how do you reconcile a social life in which you're in love with someone of the same sex as yourself with a profoundly fundamentalist religious belief?
Maybe we need to start looking at all of the world as one big pack. Animals don't kick other animals out of the pack for any reason. We're not wholly animals anymore. We are aware of our actions; shouldn't our actions be *more* than those of animals? Even animals show compassion toward pack members who are injured; when did we (humanity as a whole) lose our ability to show compassion to all our fellows? Nobody says you have to like me, or want to make the same choices I made, but compassion dictates that you help me if they turn out to be the wrong choices. Compassion says that you support my right to live my life in a way that doesn't actually harm you.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
I don't know how to parent my daughter...
Which seems really odd to me. I really just don't know what to do about her. In some ways she's so very much like me it almost hurts and those are things I really really want to nurture (while realizing that they're not necessarily the best behaviors to nurture.) At the same time, she is in many ways so very foreign to me that I just don't know how to reconcile any of it.
In the former category is her love of books. Like me, she'd much rather than anything else stay in her room, preferably in her bed, especially if the option is work of any kind (including playing outside.) This is one of those things that I both love and hate, because...well, who doesn't want to raise a literate, thoughtful, well-read little person? But at the same time, I'm not sure how much she's getting out of her reading, or how thoughtful she actually is. And I *know* that a lot of the time, what she's choosing to read is what's popular with other -- older -- girls, like the Twilight books, which I abhor. And it's hard, at those times, to just sit back and say, "At least she's reading *something.*" I'm not sure how to initiate conversations about something I have such very strongly negative feelings toward, partly because I know I won't help anything by being vitriolic in a conversation with an eleven-year-old. The flip-side, of course, is that, as an adult, I have finally learned the value of exercise and hard work, whether it's chores, a job, or whatever. And I'll admit I'm not perfect (not even near it) on the subject of practicing what I preach, in terms of getting enough exercise. But I'm working on it. And while I'm working on me, I'm working on her, too.
The "girlie-girl" bits I don't know what to do about. I was only very very briefly really into makeup and hair and clothes, and it's only as an adult that I'm starting to be a bit more aware of things like that, but I don't really enjoy them, still. So I have a hard time connecting to her on that level, and again, I don't want my personal vitriol to spill over and affect her vision of herself and the things she loves. And she has some very wonderful qualities that I just can't join into, like loving to watch football and hockey with her Daddy.
But then there are other things -- the Big Taboos like sex and boyfriends and stuff. Things I want to be able to talk with her openly about, because I truly *believe* that it's important to have open, candid conversations about things like this if we hope to break the cultural taboos that say they're Naughty, Dirty, Unworthy things. But my mother wasn't comfortable about tackling these subjects, and that's made it hard for me. Not that I feel uncomfortable about them, exactly; I'm just not sure how to do it. How much information is too much? How much is not enough? How do we talk about it without me sounding like I'm either encouraging experimentation, or, conversely, perpetuating the taboos?
And then, when I'm done with her, how do I do it all over again with her brothers?
I think I need more books. (subject specific would be nice, but at this point, I'd be happy with Just Another Reason To Procrastinate... )
In the former category is her love of books. Like me, she'd much rather than anything else stay in her room, preferably in her bed, especially if the option is work of any kind (including playing outside.) This is one of those things that I both love and hate, because...well, who doesn't want to raise a literate, thoughtful, well-read little person? But at the same time, I'm not sure how much she's getting out of her reading, or how thoughtful she actually is. And I *know* that a lot of the time, what she's choosing to read is what's popular with other -- older -- girls, like the Twilight books, which I abhor. And it's hard, at those times, to just sit back and say, "At least she's reading *something.*" I'm not sure how to initiate conversations about something I have such very strongly negative feelings toward, partly because I know I won't help anything by being vitriolic in a conversation with an eleven-year-old. The flip-side, of course, is that, as an adult, I have finally learned the value of exercise and hard work, whether it's chores, a job, or whatever. And I'll admit I'm not perfect (not even near it) on the subject of practicing what I preach, in terms of getting enough exercise. But I'm working on it. And while I'm working on me, I'm working on her, too.
The "girlie-girl" bits I don't know what to do about. I was only very very briefly really into makeup and hair and clothes, and it's only as an adult that I'm starting to be a bit more aware of things like that, but I don't really enjoy them, still. So I have a hard time connecting to her on that level, and again, I don't want my personal vitriol to spill over and affect her vision of herself and the things she loves. And she has some very wonderful qualities that I just can't join into, like loving to watch football and hockey with her Daddy.
But then there are other things -- the Big Taboos like sex and boyfriends and stuff. Things I want to be able to talk with her openly about, because I truly *believe* that it's important to have open, candid conversations about things like this if we hope to break the cultural taboos that say they're Naughty, Dirty, Unworthy things. But my mother wasn't comfortable about tackling these subjects, and that's made it hard for me. Not that I feel uncomfortable about them, exactly; I'm just not sure how to do it. How much information is too much? How much is not enough? How do we talk about it without me sounding like I'm either encouraging experimentation, or, conversely, perpetuating the taboos?
And then, when I'm done with her, how do I do it all over again with her brothers?
I think I need more books. (subject specific would be nice, but at this point, I'd be happy with Just Another Reason To Procrastinate... )
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Self-flagellation is not helpful
I find that sometimes (all too often, in fact) I mentally castigate myself for those things that I see as personal failings. It's like an underlying inner monologue going on All TheTime...
"I should be..."
"I ought to..."
"Why can't I just....?"
The truth is, sometimes some of the things I see as weakness of character or lack of willpower... Aren't. There are some things that, no matter how hard I try, I'm not going to be able to change. They're matters of *biology* rather than character; a reaction to things hardwired into brain or body or both, or a response to external stimuli that occurs at an instinctive level.
Yes, I went to bed at a reasonable time, but then stayed up far later than I should have reading rather than sleeping. And this morning, I gave myself hell about it.
But, you know what? I know perfectly well that, had I not been reading, I would have just been lying there, thinking about stuff. Or even about nothing more than "Why am I not sleeping? I *should* be sleeping. I have to get up early in the morning to get the boys to the bus stop on time. I'm tired. So why am I not sleeping? I *should* be sleeping." (Do you see the circle that's forming in the air above my head?)
And I know that it's not my fault. It's not anyone's fault. (Well, maybe I can spread some blame around, but I'm not going to.) I know that it's just my body reacting to things going on around me. Like the fact that my DH is out in the field this week, and still on crutches (well, one crutch, anyway. Which is better than two.) So I'm worried about him overdoing and/or just plain getting hurt and having a healing setback. And I'm not used to not having him in the house, not being held by him for a while before we both drift off...
In the morning, when my alarm goes off, yeah, I'm glad that his didn't wake me up an hour before. But I miss that half-asleep kiss as he leaves for work. Part of me is aware that he's not going to be home for dinner tonight (or will he? Sometimes the return from these little jaunts in the woods is left up in the air...) And I know that, if I crawl into bed early to read for a bit, there are not going to be those noises that signify I'm not the only adult in the house -- the TV or computer, the sounds of someone locking up, talking to the dog and cats, the running of the faucet or opening of the fridge... Nope. It's just me, pretending desperately that I'm ok with it, knowing I'm not -- and knowing it's going to be at least ten times worse next month when he's training in California. And exponentially worse after that, when he deploys to Afghanistan.
Sometimes, we have to stop blaming ourselves, and recognize that it's not our fault. The trick is figuring out when. ('Cause, after all...sometimes it *is*!)
"I should be..."
"I ought to..."
"Why can't I just....?"
The truth is, sometimes some of the things I see as weakness of character or lack of willpower... Aren't. There are some things that, no matter how hard I try, I'm not going to be able to change. They're matters of *biology* rather than character; a reaction to things hardwired into brain or body or both, or a response to external stimuli that occurs at an instinctive level.
Yes, I went to bed at a reasonable time, but then stayed up far later than I should have reading rather than sleeping. And this morning, I gave myself hell about it.
But, you know what? I know perfectly well that, had I not been reading, I would have just been lying there, thinking about stuff. Or even about nothing more than "Why am I not sleeping? I *should* be sleeping. I have to get up early in the morning to get the boys to the bus stop on time. I'm tired. So why am I not sleeping? I *should* be sleeping." (Do you see the circle that's forming in the air above my head?)
And I know that it's not my fault. It's not anyone's fault. (Well, maybe I can spread some blame around, but I'm not going to.) I know that it's just my body reacting to things going on around me. Like the fact that my DH is out in the field this week, and still on crutches (well, one crutch, anyway. Which is better than two.) So I'm worried about him overdoing and/or just plain getting hurt and having a healing setback. And I'm not used to not having him in the house, not being held by him for a while before we both drift off...
In the morning, when my alarm goes off, yeah, I'm glad that his didn't wake me up an hour before. But I miss that half-asleep kiss as he leaves for work. Part of me is aware that he's not going to be home for dinner tonight (or will he? Sometimes the return from these little jaunts in the woods is left up in the air...) And I know that, if I crawl into bed early to read for a bit, there are not going to be those noises that signify I'm not the only adult in the house -- the TV or computer, the sounds of someone locking up, talking to the dog and cats, the running of the faucet or opening of the fridge... Nope. It's just me, pretending desperately that I'm ok with it, knowing I'm not -- and knowing it's going to be at least ten times worse next month when he's training in California. And exponentially worse after that, when he deploys to Afghanistan.
Sometimes, we have to stop blaming ourselves, and recognize that it's not our fault. The trick is figuring out when. ('Cause, after all...sometimes it *is*!)
Monday, January 9, 2012
Lost in My Own Head
It just so happens that I have a ton of things percolating around in my brain that need to come out, one way or another. The problem is, at the moment they're all fragmented and mixed up (my brain sometimes makes me think of a really rich soup -- incredible, yummy ingredients in tiny pieces. It's wonderful stuff, of course, but thought-soup is just a mess and not really something you can share with others.) Unfortunately, on the rare occasion when there is cohesiveness to a portion of it, it's always at a *most* inconvenient time: the hubby is busy playing World of Tanks and thus has control of the computer. I'm in the shower, or driving, or elbow-deep in soapy dishwater. I'm trying really *really* hard to get the kids all up and ready for school and down to the school bus without letting my "Not a morning person" show too much. Y'know. Life stuff.
Somehow, none of it ever seems to get really written (or typed) down, and once it's done its little fling with thoughtfulness and Making Sense, it takes a powder (or two...) and it's on to the next variation on Brain Soup. What this means is that I have bloggy things only when I can't blog, and when I can -- well, when I can, I get the Rambling Randoms, like this.
Some things that are happening in my life:
1. I went for a walk with the dog and the Princess. It was a pretty good walk except that the dog pulling on his leash over *everything* (alternating between "Mommy, FRIEND!" and "Mommy, HIDE ME!") rubbed some rawness on my palm and made washing dishes unpleasant afterward. And when we were 2 houses from home, the dogs that live at *that* house got out of their yard & attacked us. This is the second time this has happened. Really, people, if you have one of those underground fence things, and your dogs get out, you really need to rethink what you're doing.
2. We got official word (it's on Facebook & the media) that my husband will be deploying to Afghanistan within the next few months (just in time for my birthday; thanks So Much for that!)
3. This week is going to be all about steam-cleaning the carpet in the living room and rearranging furniture in there, and spraying the back yard for fleas and other creepycritters.
4. DinoBoy got a Treasure Box from his grandparents for Christmas, filled with animal bones, a turtle shell, various minerals, and all he needs to be an Explorer -- flashlight, compass, notebook & pen. I am taking it in for his class to see tomorrow, and I shall eat lunch with him first. I am thinking for Halloween, I need to get him a "safari" type hat, and a khaki shirt, and he can be an archaeologist.
5. I really wish I was talented with the sewing and all, because I think it would be hysterical to dress one of my kids (or my husband) up as a Knight from Monty Python & the Holy Grail. With a little fluffy bunny attached to the throat. Alternatively, dress one up as a knight, one up as Tim the Enchanter, and dress someone up as a fluffy, white, gore-covered bunny. Sadly, I think only about 3 people might actually Get It.
6. In addition to going to Afghanistan soon, this week the DH is in the field. He's still on crutches, so I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to work. Guess we'll find out, huh? I just hope he manages to not overdo things, and comes home to me in at least as good shape as he's been in lately. *sigh*
7. I have been reading somewhat obsessively lately, but I've been rather a lurker than a joiner over on Goodreads, and haven't been reviewing. And I won't be here. I'll just say that what I've been reading is every Mercedes Lackey I can get my hands on that's set in the same world as Valdemar. I'm not really sure why; someone mentioned the Last Herald-Mage trilogy on a thread somewhere; I dug out my copies, and I was off.
8. I am really disappointed when the library only has books 1 and 3 of a trilogy. It would be one thing if book 2 were simply lost or perpetually checked out, but instead...no. There are no signs it was ever even purchased.
9. Regarding libraries: What is the purpose of an online catalog if it's impossible to access online? I mean, really.
Somehow, none of it ever seems to get really written (or typed) down, and once it's done its little fling with thoughtfulness and Making Sense, it takes a powder (or two...) and it's on to the next variation on Brain Soup. What this means is that I have bloggy things only when I can't blog, and when I can -- well, when I can, I get the Rambling Randoms, like this.
Some things that are happening in my life:
1. I went for a walk with the dog and the Princess. It was a pretty good walk except that the dog pulling on his leash over *everything* (alternating between "Mommy, FRIEND!" and "Mommy, HIDE ME!") rubbed some rawness on my palm and made washing dishes unpleasant afterward. And when we were 2 houses from home, the dogs that live at *that* house got out of their yard & attacked us. This is the second time this has happened. Really, people, if you have one of those underground fence things, and your dogs get out, you really need to rethink what you're doing.
2. We got official word (it's on Facebook & the media) that my husband will be deploying to Afghanistan within the next few months (just in time for my birthday; thanks So Much for that!)
3. This week is going to be all about steam-cleaning the carpet in the living room and rearranging furniture in there, and spraying the back yard for fleas and other creepycritters.
4. DinoBoy got a Treasure Box from his grandparents for Christmas, filled with animal bones, a turtle shell, various minerals, and all he needs to be an Explorer -- flashlight, compass, notebook & pen. I am taking it in for his class to see tomorrow, and I shall eat lunch with him first. I am thinking for Halloween, I need to get him a "safari" type hat, and a khaki shirt, and he can be an archaeologist.
5. I really wish I was talented with the sewing and all, because I think it would be hysterical to dress one of my kids (or my husband) up as a Knight from Monty Python & the Holy Grail. With a little fluffy bunny attached to the throat. Alternatively, dress one up as a knight, one up as Tim the Enchanter, and dress someone up as a fluffy, white, gore-covered bunny. Sadly, I think only about 3 people might actually Get It.
6. In addition to going to Afghanistan soon, this week the DH is in the field. He's still on crutches, so I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to work. Guess we'll find out, huh? I just hope he manages to not overdo things, and comes home to me in at least as good shape as he's been in lately. *sigh*
7. I have been reading somewhat obsessively lately, but I've been rather a lurker than a joiner over on Goodreads, and haven't been reviewing. And I won't be here. I'll just say that what I've been reading is every Mercedes Lackey I can get my hands on that's set in the same world as Valdemar. I'm not really sure why; someone mentioned the Last Herald-Mage trilogy on a thread somewhere; I dug out my copies, and I was off.
8. I am really disappointed when the library only has books 1 and 3 of a trilogy. It would be one thing if book 2 were simply lost or perpetually checked out, but instead...no. There are no signs it was ever even purchased.
9. Regarding libraries: What is the purpose of an online catalog if it's impossible to access online? I mean, really.
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