I've been seeing a lot of posts on Facebook about walking away from the drama and BS in one's life, not doing things that don't bring you happiness or removing negative, difficult people from your life. This is supposed to make your life simpler and stress free. Because life is supposed to be easy, right?  I call BS.
  First of all,  people are generally difficult for a reason. Maybe they had a bad childhood. Maybe they had a child hood that was too easy and they never really learned how to appreciate the people in their lives. Maybe they just received some terrible news. "That person shouldn't be so bitter about their cancer diagnosis. They should appreciate what they do have right here and right now". By the way, you're an ass if you've ever said something like that to someone. OK, maybe you WERE an ass. People can change. I'll give you a pass if you're a reformed ass and have the humility to admit it. You have your reasons for being an ass.
   Second, everyone is "difficult" at some point in their lives. Even you. Even me! (I know, you're shocked, right?)  I am, personally, very glad my husband, after seeing all the kinds of crazy I can be, hasn't just thrown his hands up and said, "I fold". I'm fairly certain I have, at least once, caused him a little stress. But he sighs, smiles and says,"I'll always love you". Which is probably only half the thought. It's probably more like, "If you don't stop that, I'll make your demise look like an accident". Sometimes you can be a little difficult. No. Not the person to your left. You. And I'm sure you have your reasons. Should we "just walk away" when you're having a rough time?
  Third, where do we draw the line on whom to walk away from? What if it's your kid with special needs or who's getting their butt kicked by puberty? Parent with dementia who needs round the clock care? Busy body Know-it-all coworker without whom we couldn't do OUR job? This isn't a call to codependency. If someone is abusive and there is no sign of them getting better and you are able, then yes, go. Or send them packing. This is just a call for compassion and patience.
  What about not doing things that don't make you happy? Do you mean like changing diapers? On your kid or your parent/ grandparent? Your job? If you hate your job, should you just walk away? Maybe. But at least wait until you have another one. And maybe if you hate your job, it's because it's not where you should be and you should do some soul searching and find your calling and take steps to get there. But, I digress. In some cultures, not doing something because it doesn't make you happy is unheard of. You do it because that's your role and other people are depending on you. I'm not saying that's the best way, but, ya know, try to find a middle ground between the great emphasis on the individual in U.S. culture and responsibility to the group in other cultures.
    Sometimes when you just press through the Idawannas, you get a great return on your investment. I'm the treasurer for the PTA at my younger kids' school. I'm not a numbers person and my training was fairly minimal. Since I'm the money girl, I have to go to most of the meetings even if I'm not on that committee. Of course, I'm on most of the committees because there are only a handful of parent volunteers and we wear a lot of hats. Sometimes, I really hate it. Really, really, really. But, then we put on an event and the kids have a great time and nobody sees what didn't go as planned or what was forgotten because they're just having a good time. They're smiling and laughing and it's because we went to the meetings we didn't want to go to and we did the shopping we didn't want to do and we set up the dance/ seasonal event even though we were tired and we're glad we did.
      Life is a lot of difficulty peppered with some occasional great moments. The difficulties make us appreciate the great moments. It's kind of like hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. The uphill part is ROUGH but the view from the top of a mountain is amazing.  So, I guess what I want to convey was best said by Kenny Rogers. "You gotta know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em." There is a time to walk away from the negative and the oppressive, but there's also a time to suck it up, soldier on, cowboy up, and put on your big girl panties. But without sounding all advice-y. Just wanted to say, "what's up with that?"

Couch Surfing USA Part 1

  As most a lot some really big undertakings do, it started with a very simple idea.  My in-laws had been to visit us about 1000 times since we moved to Portland 3 years ago and I hadn't seen my family since my mom's funeral so it was time for us to go to them. I carefully calculated  pretty much guesstimated how much we'd need for travel expenses and activities and talked a lot about saving up for our trip. Then I realized that, unlike our previous cross-country trips, I wasn't under a deadline. We could take as much time as we needed. I started thinking about sights we could see along the way. Then I thought about people I could see along the way. Again, it started with one person and branched out from there. A simple 5 day, 2600 mile trip became a 2 week, 2900ish mile expedition. We stayed with several friends, saw a few planned sights and had a few impromptu side trips. It was poorly planned,my budget got cut in half due to some vehicle maintenance issues on our other car, I over packed and very quickly let go of a lot of ideals in the name of survival/ maintaining my sanity and the kids and I ran through a gamut of emotions on a daily basis. And I look forward to having the chance to do it again. I have a lot of ideas of how I want to write about it and just may try them all out. That's the great thing about my blog. It's MY blog! All mine! hahahahahahaha! Can't wait to get started!
  I'm calling the series Couch Surfing but that's a bit of a misnomer. Couch surfing, to me implies that one is crashing with strangers. We were graciously welcomed into the homes of friends and family members who took great care of us.

Summer!!!

We're having a bit of a heat wave here in PDX. Fortunately, it's supposed to break in a few days. Which is great because we don't have air conditioning in our 1944 concrete house and, "It's too hot to care about anything" as my hubby put it this afternoon when I apologized for the house being messy. I was really frustrated because I got the front of the house cleaned up but it's been a struggle to maintain it. It finally occurred to to me that "if I couldn't keep it clean while the kids were in school, why the heck did I think I could keep it clean while they're home?" Also, my kids have been surviving on watermelon, popsicles and chicken nuggets because, in addition to the heat, I can't seem to keep any counter space in my tiny, poorly designed kitchen uncluttered so cooking is a huge pain. This is sad because a local organic farm delivers fresh veggies weekly to the hospital my husband works at. There's usually something we recognize or know how to cook, but there are a lot of things I've never cooked and haven't made to effort to figure out what to do with them. Long story short, we have too much crap and I'm tired of dealing with it. It's getting in the way of us having a full life. I'm ready to get rid of the junk and all the negative "stuff" that goes along with it.
  Anyway, we're gearing up for a cross country trek in a couple of weeks. Ian, Lia and I are driving to Alabama. Well, I'll be driving and they'll be asking, "are we there yet?" and requesting frequent bathroom stops. The kind that never seem to coincide with, gas or restaurant stops or any locally available bathrooms. My kids have become experts at weeing on the side of the road discreetly(ish). I mean, I tell them no one can see, so that counts, right?
  Despite that, I'm really looking forward to the trip. We're taking a less than direct route so we can work in a few visits with some friends along the way and we'll stop and see a few sights as well. We plan on camping some nights provided a campsite isn't as much as a hotel room. I looked up KOA and the price of a tent campsite wasn't listed. If you don't show me the price up front, I assume it's probably more than I want to spend. A lot of national parks also offer camping so we might give that a try. Another thing I'm actually excited about is what we're going to eat on the trip. I'm going to scout out farmers markets and other whole, healthy food sources along the way and my goal is to blog about not only our great experiences on the open road, but eating healthfully along the way. I'm a little concerned that Ian isn't going to like it because he's never really enjoyed vegetables beyond green beans, broccoli and salad stuff but, I also think that since we're in the middle of nowhere and the choices are take it or leave it, he'll take it. I'm not too concerned about Lia. She's a bit of a garbage disposal not picky.
  In the interim, we're getting vehicles up to snuff (yay, new tires! I mean brand new! I didn't realize treads could be that deep!), arranging play dates and birthday parties, and wading through an endless sea of Lia's clothes to pack for our trip. That's another thing I'm kind of excited about. We're going away for approximately 6 weeks and bringing 4 days worth of clothes, plus a few extra items like a sweater for evenings in the desert and a bathing suit. If we absolutely need anything else once we get there, such as a dressy outfit for church, we can get it there.So, in addition to visiting family and seeing things we've never seen before, I'm hoping that we'll be able to enjoy the experiences and people in our lives and this trip will provide a much needed change in perspective and when we get home, we'll see that we can live without all this extra stuff we're constantly picking up, storing, washing, and just tending to in general.

Our house, in the middle of our street

     I don't gripe about housework the way my mom used to. I've really developed my own style. I think she would be proud of me. All kidding aside, my house looks like a federal disaster area. I'm not going to MomShame and upload pictures because I don't want my kids to get teased at school. For a while I would try to clean up if I knew someone was coming over but I've since given up. People come over, my kids have play dates, they make comments about the chaos, whatever. I can't put everything on hold indefinitely.
    In reality, it looks like my kids have been home for two weeks and one of them had a baby in the middle of those two weeks. 'Cause that's what really happened. But if you dig a little deeper, (go ahead. Just be careful. I can't guarantee your safety at this time.) you'll see that it is the home of a somewhat overwhelmed person who's been trying to hold it together and be what other people need her to be. This hasn't been working out for me. I'm not really "present" for anyone and I'm about to do some re-evaluating and prioritizing. But more on that another day.
   My 15 year old daughter had a baby on the 22nd of December. It's been a rough 9 months. She's always dealt with anxiety and holds herself to very high standards. Teen pregnancy did little to improve upon either of those. Deciding to keep the baby was an angst ridden choice- for all of us. At one point she was hospitalized for almost 2 weeks due to the anxiety. She was already behind in school and after being out for 2 weeks, she just couldn't get caught up. So she dropped out the last quarter. She was now cut off from her friends at school as well as her roller derby team mates. Again, not helpful with the anxiety. Being the polite, perfectionistic kid she is, she would wait until I had wrangled her younger siblings into bed and to sleep before letting me know she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. So, I would stay up until 3 a.m. with her, talking, crying, watching Dr. Who (which I could never follow because she was so far into it, so don't ask me about it. I don't know). Then I would get up around 7 and try to get the younger two kids to school on time. We were usually late so I got "a bit" of flak from their teachers about tardiness, attendance, blah, blah. In all fairness, once they knew what was going on at home, they didn't say anything else.  If I didn't have a PTA function going on at the elementary school, I would go home and try to get some sleep. I knew I needed to do a lot around the house but I really felt like my family needed me to be rested and not grouchy.
     My two youngest kids have ADHD, heavy on the H. I know somone, somewhere is going to 1) suggest a therapy they read about or 2) try to tell me ADHD isn't real. Save it. I don't care. I know what I live. Every. Stinking. Day. My son was medicated but the meds were making him very whiny and emotional. My youngest daughter was not medicated because I couldn't find anyone to treat her until she was 7. She gets bored and antagonizes her brother until he blows up at her and then she tells on him. Both of them are champion mess makers. Neither one of them is good at getting rid of things or picking up after themselves. Trying to get them to pick up or help out is a struggle. I offer incentives. I impose consequences. I make checklists to help them remember to clean up after themselves and help around the house. I have helped them set up their bedrooms into "zones" to facilitate cleaning. I have made my son a very detailed Room Cleaning Checklist so he can clean his room without me. I still end up doing it myself because I catch myself losing it when they whine, argue, cry and generally spend more time trying to get out of work than the job would have taken in the first place. It's not always like this. In fact, lately they've become much better over all about helping. But not always.
     I can hear the advice. My thought is this- we only have so much breath allotted to us in our lifetimes. You can use that breath telling me I'm doing it wrong and this is how I SHOULD be doing it, or you can be telling your loved ones how much you love them. The choice is yours but, remember, my husband and I have big families. I've heard it for the last 15 years.
     Add to that the once weekly counseling appointments for my son and 15 year old daughter, her ob appointments, and later counseling for my 7 year old daughter, most of which I tried to schedule while my husband was at work so it wouldn't interrupt his days off. He's an ER nurse who works two to four 12 hour night shifts and alternating weekends. Somewhere in there, I managed to get elected Treasurer of the elementary school PTA. For some reason that I can't remember now, I accepted the nomination. Throw in phone calls at odd hours from my 20 year old daughter who's in the Navy and stationed on the east coast. The most notable phone call being the one in which she called to tell me she had locked her keys in the car.
    Then there's the stuff. Oh my freakin' dog, the stuff. I got rid of so much stuff when we moved and I vowed never to accumulate so much stuff again. But my smaller children will have nothing to do with this vow. I don't know how they manage to bring more stuff into my house because I always tell them "NO!" when they ask for stuff, but they do.  I'm currently deluding myself with an 8 Weeks to Declutter Your House plan a friend posted on Facebook. One room a week, they say. Thirty minutes to an hour, they say... And I don't want to just get rid of my kids stuff when they aren't looking, for various reasons. I'm afraid they'll become stay hoarders because they're afraid someone will throw away their stuff when they aren't looking. I also don't feel like they'll learn some decision making skills and take pride in their accomplishments if they aren't a part of the decluttering process.
    I know this sounds like a lot of whining. It is. I know a lot of people have a lot more going on and they handle it just fine. And I have days where nothing bothers me. And I could stay home and organize etc. but I go out to lunch with a friend because, if that friend died tomorrow, I know I'd be much more glad I had that memory with her than a nicely organized cupboard.
   I was writing a condensed version of this to a family member who will be arriving in 2 days to explain why my house didn't look ready for company and I realized that despite everything, I'd lived to tell about it. And that sometimes, things are out of your control and there is no "taking the bull by the horns" and mastering the situation. You just dig your heels in and hang on until it's over. You respond the best way you can. And that's good enough. And sometimes "good enough" is great.

I AM somebody! and thoughts about socks

     Whenever I feel like I need some alone time, I just mention all the things that need to be done around the house. WHOOSH! They're gone. Without a trace.  Ahhh...hello dishes, ol' buddy, ol' pal! I give a lot of ultimatums but no one really takes me seriously. They know they can usually outwait me (is that a word? It is now.) and I'll deal with it before it drives me to the brink of insanity. For instance, one of my brilliant offspring put the chocolate syrup bottle back in the refrigerator upside down before making sure the cap was securely closed. I discovered this when I tried to pry the mustard out of a thick layer of cold chocolate syrup. So, in my sternest "I'm not taking any crap of anybody" yet gentle, motherly tone, I told my precious babies that I would not buy any more chocolate syrup until SOMEBODY cleaned the chocolate out of the door of the fridge. I believe the 7 year old ( the one with the cute dimples the keep me from wringing her neck) said something to the effect that she knew she just had to wait because she knew I would eventually do it. I was about to get angry when the 15 year old who is, surprisingly, often the voice of reason, reminded me that while rude, the 7 year old wasn't off the mark.
  Let me back up a little further. My mom was from the South and had some interesting ways of describing the world. When someone would come up in the world a little, sometimes someone else would say, "Well, you just think you're someBODY!" It was usually a good natured ribbing and the up and comer was expected to pull the "Aw, shucks. I'm still the same guy." routine. ANYway, as I was scraping chocolate goo out of the refrigerator this afternoon, I realized- I AM some BODY!
  Another pursiut that allows me time to think is sorting socks. Unfortunately, I usually end up thinking about socks. Like-has anyone ever noticed the divorce rate among socks? It's tragic, really. Especially disturbing is when, not only does the old sock move out, a new one moves in. Seriously. I was folding socks the other day and there were random, single socks that I have never seen before. Divorce and (I hope) remarriage is the only plausible explaination I've been able to come up with.
   Socks should be easy math. Four dirty green toed socks+ detergent + fabric softener SHOULD equal four, clean, green toed socks. And some days it does. Like when I put all the socks in little mesh baggies before I wash them. Then, I pull them out, sort them and fold them. I tell my children, "Behold! I have cleansed and dried and matched your socks! We have socks to last  a fortnight!". And we rejoice because there are plentiful socks in the land.
   But, alas, it is not to last. After a few days, the children tell me the clean socks are no more to be found and I notice something rotten in the State of McLain (No...It's not the fridge this time. Somebody already cleaned it). No. As I walk through the house, I notice lone socks lurking in dark corners. The absence of fressh mud and foul odor leads me to believe they're clean. Why it's one of the little green toed guys I folded just the other day. And down the hall is another, static clinging to a little purple toed crew length I've never seen before. What is happening? Do socks have an electric charge that I'm unaware of? And are they all positively charged so that when I fold them, they still repel one another? Or, is it as I mentioned earlier and they've all gone Kramer vs. Kramer on me? DO socks have a perfect mate? A sole mate, if you will? Do they have thoughts, opinions and preferences? Should socks be granted Personhood? And if so, do you think one of them would help me clean the fridge?

Thankful for the end of vacation, otherwise known as whining

   I was low on energy today so I drank one of The Hubby's energy drinks. I don't know if I can mention the brand but I will say I'm STILL waithing for a thunderbolt to hit me with the ability to play bass guitar like that guy in that band that's really good.

  Had a David Byrne moment as I tip-toed down the hallway to avoid stepping on Monopoly pieces in my stocking feet, to go shampoo the whoopie pie filling out of my hair and find a shirt that wasn't spattered with cake batter. 

  My kids have been out of school all week and my husband has worked 4 of the 8 nights they've been off. This means I have them for 24 uninterupted hours. Times 4. And then they've had friends over. And today, Lia has beeen an almost constant stream of neccessity.  I have hit the wall. Next year, I am going to keep them so busy, they'll be begging to go back to school.

  I meant to take them swimming yesterday but got side tracked. I remembered around 5 and could have taken them since the pool didn't close until 8:30. But The Hubby was going to work and I didn't want himto feel like I was ditching him. I really regretted the decision around 7. So today, when they asked to go to the playground, even though it was cold and dreary, I said yes. And even though we didn't get ready until almost sunset, we went. They wanted to have a picnic. So they were lugging the picnic basket to the car and oohing and aahing over the sunset and the moon.
  Before the park there was an aborted attempt to bake with the easy bake oven. Missing instructions= weird cake batter soup. We did make pink sugar cookie in the microwave. No that wasn't a typo. One pack of mix makes one grocery store sized cookie. Then we made whoopie pies from a box. (*Cough* I'd rather starve*cough*) Let's just say they weren't my Mama's. Canned vanilla frosting is not good on anything. I don't care how many rainbow sprinkles you put on it.  Oh, yeah. There were the multiple attempts to keep Lia and friend upstairs while Bekah painted the nursery. And a shower. I got a shower today. That doesn't always happen when the kids are home and Hubby works. Unless, I get up before the kids or sneak one in after they go to sleep pass out. I announced my plan to shower and said, "all in favor, say 'Aye'.". The "ayes" were a little too enthusiastic, I thought.
  So to sum it up, I managed to drink an energy drink, make weird, counterfeit baked goods, bathe and take kids to a park while Bekah moved furniture and painted an entire room including the trim. Oh, yeah. I halfway loaded the dishwasher. Sometimes, my lack of productivity starts to bother me. When that happens, I have to go lie down until the feeling passes. (Mom 3 1/2, Bek 1. I win, right?)  

Ian and his fixin's for home made salsa. I have tried about 5 times to get this  picture to load below the next paragraph.  Just gave up. 

     The playground in the semi dark was actually nice if you don't count the part where I let the kids out and went to park the car and before I got the car parked, Ian had tripped on some metal steps on a play structure, scraped his shins in three places and was lying on the ground crying and clutching his legs. He claimed walking was a little difficult so he was relegated to playing the zombie most of the time we were there. We got home just as it started sprinkling. Then the girls carpeted the living room with stuffed animals which I will have to put up Monday after several reminders and threats to send them to Goodwill tonight and tomorrow. And, Ian found a cache of McDonald's picante sauce pouches and is told me he has enough to make home made salsa. Did I mention I'm kinda lacking in the "domestic" department?
  Tea party over, they moved on to a game called Hullaballoo, which is great for helping kids learn to follow directions, or so I shall continue to hope. Lia's friend won several rounds in a row, which is purely by chance. But of course, when one of the kids comments on it, I can't control my sarcasm and interject, "Becasue she's cheating." This didn't have the humorous effect I wanted. It really did more to incite a riot. I don't drink but this is one of those days when I begin to contemplate doing so.
  

Author's note: The toys actually got put up before Lia's friend went home! Here's to good influences and hoping they rub off on my kids!

.

Dad

  Today marks the day that, in 1995,  my dad died. I had just turned 23 a few weeks earlier and was really naive enough to think he was going to get better. I was so confident, I moved 892 miles away a few months before his death. Since I only lived 3 hours away, we stayed overnight at his house before setting out the next morning. As we hugged goodbye, the thought "this is the last time you'll see him" ran through my head. As usual, I second guessed myself and drove off into the wild blue yonder to "start over" in Mobile, AL.
  He had been diagnosed with cancer in 1992, while I was pregnant with my first child and when he said he was going to get better, I believed him. I was a Navy brat and I hadn't grown up around elderly of chronically ill people. I was completely ignorant. My husband, who grew up in a small town with extended family all around him, couldn't fathom that for a long time. I think he just gave up and said, "I get it." so I would stop trying to explain. It didn't occur to me to take time off from my crappy waitressing job in Maryland to help take care of him in Norfolk, Virginia. I didn't know you were supposed to do these things. It didn't help that I was getting divorced at the time and, rather than spend her entire childhood in court, I gave in and let my ex-husband have primary care of our daughter. My world was literally falling apart. I feel guilty to this day that people I had only met a few times drove him to doctor's appointments and checked on him when his girlfriend was at work. I have to remind myself that I was "just a kid" at the time and just didn't know.
  About a month before he died, he told his brother in Oregon that he wanted to go home. So, my aunt bought them some airline tickets and my uncle went to get my dad. The doctors said he couldn't make the trip so my uncle helped him into a wheelchair and told the staff they were going for a walk. It was, from all accounts, a miserable flight for my dad, my uncle and the guy sitting behind them who got mooned every time  my uncle had to get behind the seat and pull dad up when he slid down in his seat. (ok. now I'm laughing thinking about the fact that "crack" seems to be a problem for the men in my family. My dad was always doing something around the house or on a vehicle and his crack was always there to help him and one of my cousins has the same "problem"- any time, anywhere) A few days later, one of the nurses from the hospice called my aunt to see if he had made the trip alright. She and my aunt laughed about the fact that the staff suspected my uncle and dad were making a run for it, but just let them go. He was in a hospice and even then, I believed he was going to get better.
  The day before he died, my aunt helped him call me. We talked for a few minutes and I don't even remember what about. I remember he sounded sleepy. I had written him a letter and my aunt encouraged me to send it and write to him often.  I promised I would and we hung up. I cried because he sounded so weak.
  The next day, my aunt called to tell me he had died. She had gone in to sit with him and she suggested he take a walk on the beach, using guided imagery to aid in the pain management. He grew up on the Oregon coast, which is often covered in thick fog. I like to think he walked into that dense fog and kept going.
   As I get older, the thing that hurts the most is that, in my selfish youthfulness (or is it youthful selfishness?), all I cared about was getting the world to listen to ME and to look at ME and tell ME I was wonderful. I didn't ask questions about where he came from and what his thoughts and opinions were about much of anything. I didn't take the time to really get to know him.
   On top of my lack of curiosity, another reason I didn't ask questions was that our family instituted "Don't ask, Don't tell" long before Clinton exhaled that phrase. My dad had fought in Viet Nam but he didn't talk about it. I'm glad he didn't burden me with the reality of war as a child but as an adult, I would like to know about his experience since it shaped so much of my childhood. He didn't talk about it with my mom, either and I think that was because he just didn't want to relive the loss of shipmates and friends and the gruesome events he lived through. Back then, you came home and went back to your normal life. You just carried on as though you'd been out on an extended business trip. To open that up may have made all those emotions unmanageable.
   But it's not as though we lived in a vacuum, just existing side by side and never connecting. Dad loved the outdoors and there was lots of quality family time camping, boating, hiking in the woods or puttering in a garden. And we talked. A lot. My dad loved to read and was always excited about a new book- usually in the sciences or philosophy. He and my mom instilled a love of reading, and books in general, in me when I was very young.
  Everything I have tried to write from this point on sounds like a syrupy obituary. You know the one where they take half a page trying to convince the world that Charlie was a great guy who loved everyone and everyone loved him right back. So I'm going to wrap this up with a list of things I have come to realize I have learned from my dad.
   1) self reliance- My dad was big on this. He didn't ask for help nor did he accept offers of help. I've come to realize this was a foolish policy. Which leads me to my next lesson-
    2) learn from your mistakes- Dad used to say that the only stupid mistake is one you don't learn from. (I've learned a lot in 40 years)
    3) high standards- he held them for me but also for himself because...
    4) if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right.-and....
    5)  failure is not an option- And you've only failed if you stopped trying. So...
    6)  Keep a positive outlook
    7) "Put yourself in their shoes"- This used to drive me crazy! When I would complain about someone or disparage anything they did, this was his usual response. But it has served me well over the years. I feel like it has helped me to be a better nurse, parent, and friend. An added bonus is that I get to drive my husband and kids nuts with it!
   8)  A good leader doesn't ask his/her people to do anything he/she wouldn't do.Dad was a Senior Chief in the Navy so he tried to teach me about leadership and this is one thing that has stood out for me over the years.
And finally, this is not anything he ever said but definitely something that he lived-
9) stay curious!