Reading and other things in the ditch

I used to read for pleasure.
Now reading helps me sleep.
I love books. When I was in high school I participated in a yearly trip to the BWCA with twelve students and two chaperones (teachers.) We portaged, canoed, ate gorp, caught fish on my snoopy rod and lost my favorite orange Rapala lure, George, in the rocks. I wonder if he's still there. We drank lake water and pooped in holes covered with buckets (that's called primative campsite) and we read books. I would pack a few books for the days we would lounge on the mammoth rocks in the sun to read. When there was time (remember those days?) I used to sit and read for hours. I would devour trashy Harlequin novels, crime fighting coroners and scandalous Babysitters club books. Now I'm lucky if I have time to do my required reading during daylight hours. Anything attempted after the sun sets and I'm done. Stick a fork in me, I'm sawing logs(Wow, what amixed metephor.) Now my book light wakes me hours after I've fallen asleep with my head tilted in just the wrong position. My neck screams as I try to right it. I close the book light and when I'm lucky, I fall back asleep. When I'm not, I reopen the book light and Voila' it's "Ground Hog Day." 
Instead of reading there's the garden, the windows, the garage, the lawn, the weeds, the sprinkler system, the dogs, the kids, the laundry, the dishes, the cleaning, the clutter and the bills. Always something that needs to be done. One day in the future, I will read for hours without feeling guilty that something else needs to be done. I won't put a time constraint on that but I will put it on my radar. Read for pleasure. Check.
I am excited to read "chapter books," as they are called in 2nd grade, to my kids. We have tackled "Little House in the Big Woods," "The Mouse and the Motorcycle," "Stuart Little," "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing," the Ramona books and some Choose Your Own Adventure books. 
My daughter loves to read and I want her and my boys to see me reading. This is very important to me. I know if they see me reading they will be more likely to read for themselves. I would be extremely proud if they would choose a book over the TV or a Leapster.
My oldest son is into the books he creates in kindergarten. He can "read" them and goes down to his grandma's to read to her most nights. He is so proud and so eager to learn to read. He has started retelling stories as well, his first was the gingerbread man. My hope is for him to read "real books" within two months. He knows 3 star words-I, see and my.
My youngest son is my "Llama Llama" boy. If you are not familiar with the "Llama Llama" books, they are wonderful. "Llama Llama Red Pajama,"  "Llama Llama Mad at Mama," "Llama Llama Misses Mama" and the newest "Llama Llama Holiday Drama" are about Llama Llama and his mama. Of course they rhyme and have the meter similar to a Dr. Seuss book. That's why I love them. 
My absolute favorite book in the world is "Fox in Sox" by Dr. Seuss. "Through three cheese trees three free fleas flew..." It doesn't get better than that. OK, when your daughter begs to read it to the boys "and then you can read it next, mommy" that's when it doesn't get any better. "Fox in Sox, our game is done sir, thank you for a lot of fun sir." 

Lutefisk and other Scandahoovian

Richard Rodriquez's essay "None of This" really opened my eyes to the other side of Affirmative Action. Being white and American (read egocentric) it never dawned on me that perhaps some of the beneficiaries of this antiquated program are not interested in handouts. That perhaps they felt self conscious and uncomfortable with it. I just assumed they all thought it was fabulous. Who doesn't like a free ride? I now know the answer to that. People just like me, people with integrity and self respect.
I firmly agree that employment applications, college applications and promotion opportunities should be blind to ethnicity and gender. What a concept-a person advances on ability and accomplishments! Who woulda thunk it? I really don't know why I had the idea that minorities would want anything different. I don't know why I thought anyone would feel entitled to something simply because of their cultural background. What does that do to a person's self? You only fill a quota. Your contributions are only accepted because your last name is Ortiz. But even then we understand you are only here because WE are obliged to have you here. You are here because WE now allow you to be here, not on your own merit. -Who really knows anymore? Merit or obligation?
What damage has our government done by implementing Affirmative Action programs? Yes, I'm sure there were positions filled with minorities who didn't have the same qualifications as a white candidate. Where there not enough qualified minority candidates? Why? I understand the whole oppressed people thing. I get it. I don't want to be insensitive but when is it time for an oppressed people to stand up, take hold of the reigns and charge forward. When is it time to stop wallowing in self pity and live up to the potential that is inside? Fulfil the destiny and wonder God has endowed? When will our society have the stones to have a real and true conersation about race and opportunity? I am white. My ancestors are Swedish and German. I do not expect to be stigmatized because of Prussian that took over Germany in the middle 1800s. Maybe I'm just too scandanvian, too white. Maybe I just don't get it. It's not my fault there were slave ships and such. I am sad that it happened but I can't change the past, only the future. A person's loss of advancement due to an ancestor's extreme misfortune cannot and should not be quantified. Others may have been motivated beyond what would have been. Then there's the hard cold fact that no one knows what "would have been." The past is the past. It is what it is, do not blame me or anyone else. Hanging on to the past does no good for anyone. Move on and move up.
I don't think I would want an opportunity extended to me simply out of obligation. That said, maybe the minorities that have "benefited" from affirmative action didn't either. Maybe it was the only way at the time to get from point A to point B.
Where do we go from here? How do we fix this? How do we make the hiring/advancement process blind? How do we have that powderkeg conversation? According to our Declaration of Independence, we are all endowed by our Creator with inalienable rights. How do we get there?

Logical fallacies and other childhood games...

MOM!
Everyone else gets to have dessert!
You always let him go first!
She always gets to go!
We are a household of hasty generalizations. This might have something to do with the fact that I am the only one in our household that is above the age of eight. I believe my children learned the art of speaking in absolutes from their father. He always does this and always does that and I never do this and never do that. Might be one of the many reasons why he lives somewhere else these days.
As children we are quick to say everybody, always, never and forever. I wonder if this comes from the limited life experience or if we really believe everybody, always, never and forever. I think I thought in everybody, always, never and forever when I was younger. When you are young it's easier to think that way. Less challenging and less scary. As we grow up, we learn to question what is fed to us. We learn to filter the information and hopefully weed through the generalizations.
I wonder what would happen if someone invented a collar that shocked the wearer whenever a hasty generalization or an absolute was uttered. This would be quite a site. People walking around convulsing almost constantly. Men are pigs. zap (or not.)
(Sorry I'm a bit snarky today.)
What if politicians had to wear these collars? Their nervous systems would be fried. Sweeping generalization? Hasty generalization? I think not.  I've been trying to decide which attack ad was my favorite of the election season. I think it was the one where one goobernatorial (yes goober) candidate told us all the things Tim Pawlenty did wrong. Never mind telling us why he was a better candidate than the other guy or what he was going to do right. He decides to highlight what the guy NOT RUNNING AGAIN did wrong. hmmm. "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain." "What would you do with a brain if you had one?" Run for office?
That being said, my best friend in the entire world ran for and was elected to the office of mayor in a southern Minnesota smallish-medium size town. So I know the mayor. You want to hang out with me now don't you? She has a brain, and a heart and the nerve. So there is at least one example of truth and integrity in politics in the state of Minnesota.
Now I'll run along before a house falls on me too.

Give thanks

Things I am thankful for:
my God
my three kids
my mother
my close family
my father's pain is through
my health
my children's health
my warm home
a full pot of coffee
the prospect of better opportunities
I am a woman born in America
all my children go to school
good food
good wine
sleep-when it comes
sunshine
snow
online shopping
mashed potatoes and gravy
pie
music
furry socks
pomegranates
Some people get all crazy thankful for one day at this time of year. I choose to be thankful each day. It's easy to forget what we in America have. We take so much for granted. We have warm places to sleep, food in our bellies. Our children, our daughters, go to school daily.
The floor in my home is carpet and hardwood, not dirt. I have running water and indoor plumbing. My refrigerator is full of food. My closet is chock full of clothes. So many in the world do not have even a fraction of what I have, yet in America I am considered lower middle class. For this I am thankful. 
I am thankful that I have been given the opportunity to go through pain, as God never wastes a painful experience. Through pain comes growth. There is no way to appreciate the blessings in life without enduring the ache of grief. So, for my grief and trials, I am thankful.     
Psalm 118:1 reads "Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; his love endures forever."

Give Me a Head with Hair

Secret (ok not so secret now) confession: I've always thought dreadlocks were dirty. In high school, one of my friends had them. He had such lovely thick curly hair. I on the other hand, have fine, stick straight hair. I always wondered why he would want dreads when his hair was so wonderful. Dreads look unkempt, dirty and unsanitary. I don't think I'll ever care for them.
I know quite a few women who tie their self worth to their hair. I really don't claim to understand that. I suppose in high school I allowed my hair to dictate my mood and worth. That was eons ago. EONS. I was so much different back then.
One of my favortie hair subjects is the Flammable Wall of Bangs. I perfected my FWB in high school. Oh there were the girls with super high bangs but theirs always had holes. Sometimes the bangs just stopped. My FWB continued with a carefully crafted reverse ski slope down toward the back of my skull. I used the only type of hair spray allowed in this competition; Aqua Net. My personal favorite was the pink can. Sometimes I used the white can.
Another favorite: the mullet. party in the back, business up front.
Need I say more?
Scary thought: Some people still have mullets and think they are fashionable.

There's no such thing

What are the attributes of a "functional" family? Kindness, caring, genuine concern for one another, teamwork, honesty, integrity? What about putting the toilet seat down and rinsing out the sink after you're done brushing your teeth? Does it only take one kooky member of the family to make the whole family dysfunctional? When the rest of the family revolves around one member is that dysfunction? Who makes the rules? Who writes the list of what function and dysfunction is? Does that person have a family and is it dysfunctional?
Every family is at least a little functional and a little dysfunctional. Some are more functional than others. But I believe that each family has it's own dysfunction. My family got a sprinkling of the dysfunction. My best girl friend got a truck load full of it. I can still smell the rot of her house. Her room was the only clean, bright, organized room in the house. When she shut the door the stench didn't come in as much. I see the holes in the floor of her living room. She was paper thin, controlling the only aspect of her life she thought she could. She let me come into her house, she trusted me. She tried to hide at my house one time but I didn't see it that way. Now that I'm older, I see it for what it really was.
I didn't see the constant sores on her knuckles, smell the acid on her breath or even get that she was sick. My world at 15 didn't see or even know about those things. Her world was those things. Which one of us lived in reality? Her mother, father, sisters and brother helped creater her reality, as did mine. I couldn't or maybe wouldn't see the bad things in life. My slightly dysfunctional family helped me be that way. Was it better? I got to play with dolls and kittens at the age of seven and my friend was busy worrying if she would have to worry about rodents in her bed. That's not fair or even right. But that's reality and you get what you get.
  

Things I've learned this week...

Here are some things I learned this week, some the hard way, some the not-so-hard way.

• I sound like a dork when I speak Spanish. I never imagined that Spanish with a "Fargo" accent would be so hilarious. Oh my goodness. "Si, you betcha."
• Learning to record things on my computer is not nearly as hard as I thought it would be.
• Expo markers are sometimes the right answer.
• One shouldn't leave the laundry room door open when peanut butter is used to remove the mystery stickiness from oldest child's clothing. Especially when the dog is about. On the bright side, she licked off the stickiness, too.
• Bandaids make imaginary boo boos all better, or at least they make the crying stop.
• Microscopic black biting "no-see-ums" can ruin a perfect 80 degree October afternoon. 
• So can homework.
• It is possible to have an evil lady beetle home invasion with all your doors and windows locked down tight.
• Even three-year-olds will talk baby-talk if given the chance.
• Boxelder bugs are creepy.
• Seven-year-old whine does not go good with cheese.
• Sometimes there are just too many rules.
• When I have a good idea for a paper, I need to write it down or it will run away and I will never find it again. What I will be left with is a sorry excuse for a paper.
• There's almost nothing that the smell of a new baby can't fix.
• Four-year-old little boys can sit through a two hour long musical production of Pippi Longstocking.
• When a four-year-old boy asks, "Mom, when is the movie gonna start?" 15 minutes into a two hour musical production of "Pippi Longstocking," it's going to be an interesting afternoon. 
• God sends me money when I need it. Not like Western Union or anything, but He sends me money-really. He rocks!
• Four-year-olds don't have volume control.
• Boys can make a fort out of nothing and some sticks.
• Seaweed salad from Byerly's is yummy.
• Being a seven-year-old girl is difficult.
• "Grilled Cheesus" made me cry.
• Each child has his own lever that controls behavior. Find it and you are GOLDEN!
• I have the best three kids in the world and I am so proud of them.

I'm not half bad either. My week was interesting again. There were wins and losses. I made it through another one and will wake up tomorrow and do it all over again. Another day, another list. I wouldn't have it any other way.