Bullshit Rantings

I hope everyone had a lovely Easter weekend, whatever form it took for you and your loved ones. Easter was a very relaxing and family oriented time for us, not in the traditional sense, most likely, but warm and fun all the same. My first-born and his beautiful fiancĂ© came over and picked up the rugrats to take them to an early morning church service. No, for the most part Kevin and I don’t attend church, except when we feel like we may enjoy some praise time.  Why? I have seen more hypocrisy, snobbery and politics in church, then outside of it. I’m not saying there isn’t something to be gained from going, but at this time, I can’t see past the negatives that seem to occur in the name of God inside his supposed Church on a consistent basis.

Our last experience, as two Democrat Christians, had a pastor (the regular pastor’s son) speaking at length on politics during the last presidential election. He intimated that the Democratic party was sending, and I quote, “spies into the Christian Church, to see if politics was being preached from the pulpit.” His tone and manipulation was unmistakable. All we could think was when did the Christian church become the right hand of the Republican party? There are Democrats who are Christians, and yes I took great offense to what I saw as a mindless group of sheep Amen-ing this pompous self righteous idiot who was doing his best to manipulate the crowd into believing what he believed, without questioning the legitimacy of what he “preached.” When did the church people quit thinking for themselves?

It’s Monday. I have to clean this house, I cannot possibly neglect it another minute. It’s Monday, the start of a kid week, and the clutter threatens to overtake us. Between the social events for charities, visiting my folks in Washington State, and the many doctor’s appointments, what has been neglected is our humble abode. I’m going to miss catching up with everyone in blogland today, but if I’m successful in bringing just a little order to this mess, I should return tomorrow to catch up and read of all your daily escapades.

Hope everyone’s Monday is a good one!

Love,

3T

For their complete lack of humor, inability to laugh at themselves and their pseudo-intellectual snobbery! Get over yourselves people! Jon Stewart did a fabulous job hosting the Oscars last night, and the stars that were being celebrated sat stone faced throughout his satires, commentary and jokes. All of which had my husband and I giggling throughout. We had our champagne while we watched, but only a few glasses. Were they not serving any champagne to the stars?

All of the movies that were up for awards were well done and a good deal made statements where racism, prejudices and intolerance is concerned. We your audience? We get it! We’re for it! We want progressive thinking, and equality for all! We support the statements made by a good deal of this years movies. But here, at the awards sat the most stone faced, phony, pseudo-intellectual humorless group of out of touch Hollywood actors and actresses.

All the stars gave hearty laughter to Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin who provided an entertaining skit while introducing Robert Altman for an honorary Oscar. Entertaining, yes. But hardly worth the over jovial, over done hearty fake laughter that emitted from the stars. A statement? Without a doubt. A statement which showed the humorless, stuck on themselves out-of-touch Hollywood the media has presented about them for quite some time.

A message to the stars: Learn to laugh at yourselves once in a while. Learn how to relax and have some fun. You’re stars with talent, who have been made rich by your acting and those of us who patronize your movies. Your lack of any real humor, only shows you up for your inability to be anything but one dimensional, self important, out of touch primadonnas!

To Jon Stewart? You did a wonderful job of hosting! You entertained and had my household giggling plenty!

Although I doubt he will be asked back to host the Academy Awards again, I raise my champagne glass to Jon Stewart, and say “Well done!”

WTF!!! It’s Tuesday, and the rugrat routine is at a chaotic pitch already.
Just trying to keep my rugrats’ extracurricular activities straight, and
figuring out how I can be in two places at once, is driving me batty! I
really need a chauffeur and car at my disposal to send one kid in one
direction, while I administer to the other one’s schedule!

My darling Tayler brought home straight A’s this report card, and I
couldn’t be happier! She is a focused, disciplined young lady whom I admire
greatly. A couple of years ago, when neither she nor Riley were anywhere
near straight A’s, my wonderful husband offered up some ungodly amount of
money for a straight A report card. ( IMO ) Well here it is! She brought it
home. Her graciousness is such, that she let him out of his offer, willing
to take $50 for it, and, of course, an opportunity to take on another
extracurricular activity. Activities that I try to keep to a minimum, for
her sake as well as mine. All right, mainly for my sake, but the benefit is
that Tayler doesn’t get over-extended as well.

Tayler’s latest desire is become an actress. And I mean, she wants to go to
Hollywood, and become an actress! I have long been a believer in allowing
your kids to dream, encouraging them in their dreams, and teaching them to
set goals to make them a reality. The cynic in me believes that this goal,
not due to any lack of talent on her part, is lofty at best.(For the
obvious reasons) But I remember having the same dream as a young girl, and
immersing myself in drama classes, clubs, and many plays through out junior
high and high school.

A lot of my most prized memories revolve around those plays and getting
ready for them. Belonging to the high school Thespians Club gave me a sense
of belonging to a group of kids who shared my love and enthusiasm for
drama. And yes, melodrama too. Whether Tayler has decided to take this
avenue because of my own interest in this area, I’m not sure. What I do
know is it’s immaterial because when she sets a goal, she is relentless.
Thus the latest activity that has added more running to the weekly routine.
She now has two drama courses at the Mesa Theater Arts Center, in downtown
Mesa on Thursdays.

The classes are not quite back to back, with a half hour gap between the
two. Unfortunately, downtown Mesa, surrounding our beautiful new Arts
Center, is not what a parent would consider a good area of town. Knowing
there is a half way house for previously convicted pedophiles and sex
offenders, with a few side streets that have hookers and druggies hanging
about, doesn’t lend itself to allowing Tayler to read for half an hour in
between classes. I feel compelled to be there with her, until the class has
started.

Where it gets confusing is trying to manage my time adding Riley’s Kumon
class the same day, which is in another city. I have from 2:45 PM to 4 to
fit in Kumon, drive across town to drop Tayler at her drama class, be back
in one hour to wait with her for half hour before her improvisation class
begins, which doesn’t end until 7:30 PM. That’s just Thursday. The X
slipped in another inner city basketball league for both Riley and Tayler,
which involves practice for Tayler Monday and Tuesday for Riley, who also
has a Kumon class the same day. And Tayler has her broadcasting class until
4 PM on Tuesday. Each has a basketball game every Saturday as well. Just
explaining it has given me a head-ache. Now throw in 3 chiropractor visits
for me during the week. Where was I going with this? Ah Hell, I don’t
remember.

To the mommies out there, does this sound normal? How do working mothers
keep their kids’ activities organized and under control? When Robby was
young, I had one child’s schedule and activities to keep straight. Having
to track two kids at the same time is keeping me from anything resembling
organized thoughts. I feel like a child with ADD running from one
distraction to another. In between running, trying to ensure Riley is doing
his homework both for school and his Kumon class. And oh by the way,
“what’s for dinner mom?”

I need a vacation. Didn’t I just have one not long ago? I’m giving serious
thought to not taking the kids with us on the Hawaii vacation, for several
reasons actually. First, Riley’s grades and lack of effort in his school
work. Second, I want the time away from my kids. Yea, I know that sounds
bad, but it is how I’m feeling. When the kids are with me, I don’t feel I’m
capable of having a complete thought before it’s interrupted by one of a
hundred different questions or requests that have me doing there bidding in
one form or another.

OK, I’m done with this rant and would go on record as saying, I realize I
have a good support system in both my husband and the X. A lot of women
don’t, and still make it run smooth. For me, the pace just boggles my mind.
I don’t remember my folks running in so many different directions, although
I’m sure they did between three kids and their after school jobs and
activities.

For me, by the time I tuck the rugrats into bed, I just want to drop into
bed myself. And a lot of the times, that’s exactly what I do.

This post was going to be one of the many memes I was tagged for over the
last two weeks, but I needed to sort out the kids’ schedules and rant a
little. I’ll get to them, I promise. Unless I forget in between rugrat
running....

I don’t care for sports, at all. Maybe growing up, having a father who never really got in to watching a specific sport, played a role in that, who knows. Possibly being married to a man (husband number 2) who watched sports from football all the way down to bowling and shooting pool, at every given waking hour that wasn’t spent at work, played a role too. Personally, there are 200 billion other things I would rather do with time, then sit in front of a TV WATCHING someone else participate in a sport.

When I met and started dating my present husband (and soul-mate) it wasn’t an issue. Or so I thought. While we dated, he never once suggested we sit in front of a TV and watch a game. When I mentioned my repulsion for all things sports, he diplomatically stated he wasn’t in to them either. Subtly mentioning that he picked up a game or two during play-offs, but more as a conversation tool with others. With actions speaking louder then words, he never seemed to watch sports, so it wasn’t a concern.

This illusion burst almost immediately after getting engaged. I noticed that while he would agree to go to a movie I was dying to see, he brought along his pocket TV. I was well aware of his “news-junkie” status, so thought nothing of it, when off to the opposite of where I sat, I could see the soft glow of said pocket TV. By the time we took our vows, it was plainly obvious that he enjoyed football season.

That first year of marriage, since I enjoyed gambling and we had an office pool where I worked, I would show a passing interest in who won, due to the money riding on the games. Basically though, football season would drag for me, since I didn’t really care for watching it, and my spouse loved to watch it. I might add that I won a respectable number of the football pools at work. WHY? I have no clue. I would pick who I wanted to win, based on personal facts about the cities or states that were playing. The hubby lived in Philly, so I’d pick Philly. We were in New Orleans on our honeymoon, I’d pick New Orleans. San Diego? Our first trip away together. Pittsburgh, the hubby lived there. I lived in WA so I’d pick the Seahawks. I knew absolutely NOTHING about football, and after winning my third pool in the office that Season, the men in the office, in disgust, would quit putting together the office pool, or so the women were told. Although I know they continued their fantasy football office pools, that none of the women in the office were part of.

Second Season together? Same thing. The gambling helped to pass the time during football season. This year, my office said the hubby could play too (upped the dollar amount of the pool) and so we had a little fun picking our teams each week. Basically though, I still didn’t like watching football, and thus the season dragged.

This year? Our third year of marriage, football blatantly mocked me, on our 36” TV, in the TV room. There was no denying it, the man loved watching the game, and I love the man, so football is part of our lives, like it or not. But there is a huge difference this year. I discovered blogging, and my love for reading others and maintaining one of my own. A hobby, that I have made a conscious effort from the beginning to not let interfere with “our time” or family life, especially on the week-end.

I can enthusiastically say without any deception, that I don’t mind football season, and encourage my husband to enjoy his spectator sport! I still am unable to sit in front of a game for any length of time. Although for the sake of togetherness I may very well spend a little time in the room, reading a newspaper, magazine, or book. Starting out by finding out which team he is cheering for, and taking the opposite team to cheer for! I’ll throw in the occasional “GOOOOOO NEW ENGLAND!” (He hates New England) He giggles at this, even though by now it’s as old as a “knock knock” joke told 200 times by a first grader. (yes, that’s love)

This week-end, now that all signs of Christmas have been packed away for another year, there are no parties or events to attend, and no company on the horizon, was a week-end of at-home, stress-free nothingness. Through out the week-end was/IS the constant drone of the crowd cheering and the sports announcer rambling on. Yes, it’s Playoff’s. (Is that the right term?) Due to football, I have been able to spend a little extra time, watching a movie with Tayler, chatting with Riley and reading all my blog favorites! Surviving football widowhood, is not a chore, or necessary evil anymore, but a chance to do things I want to do guilt-free. No, this is not a time of year that my spouse/lover/best-friend and I are glued at the hips, enjoying a game together. (I know there are many couples out there that do) Football season is no longer a dreaded time of year, but a chance for us both to enjoy ourselves, while enjoying different activities. Dare I say it? I enjoy football season.

GOOOOOOOOO NEW ENGLAND! 

My husband is becoming a permanent fixture here at Stumbling / Grace, for which I am thankful.  I have to say that I am amazed how so many bloggers manage to keep up with their blogs, their daily schedules and the added stress of Christmas on their time. As for me, I have hit the wall. When it comes to blogging, on top of the Holidays, kids, marriage and the many other aspects of daily life that we all deal with, I sit at the computer, and draw a blank. There is just not much left going on in my brain by that time.

I get so wrapped up in functioning in what I call “auto-pilot,” I’m depleted of any individual thought, emotion, or social amicability, which leads to pulling inward for a spell. So this is where I am functioning from at the moment. I hope everyone is winding down from their “To do” lists that usually hold far more then the day to day at this time of year. I have to go hide the 2lb box of Sees chocolates, of which I have eaten a pound out of already. Does anybody else think their quality has gone down over the last decade? (Obviously not enough though)

So here is Kevin’s Rant on Customer Service. Now that he mentions it, I could really go off, but feel the need to save that energy for another day. In the words of Scarlet O’Hara, “I can’t think about that right now. I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

Hugs & Kisses!

3T

I CAN’T KEEP THE LASH HOLSTERED

I was talking with my bride, the inimitable 3T, last night as she seemed to
be struggling writing something.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I have to write a post because some people are wondering why I haven’t written
anything,” she replied.
But she was struggling so hard with another bout of fibro—and valiantly
trying to resist writing again about how much her pain was preventing her
from turning out a quality post--that I offered to do a guest post.
She agreed, but with conditions.
“Don’t be too controversial,” she warned.
And so I am trying to put my lash aside, but it’s too hard to resist.
So, let me rail a little bit about customer service.
My bride thinks service in Arizona is particularly bad. We’re both from the
opposite ends of the north, and she recalls the Northwest as an almost
idyllic home to wonderful people who don’t snap at you behind cash
registers and greet you with a smile and efficiency. I’m a little more
jaded. In the Northeast, good customer service meant you didn’t have to
worry that the cable guy was a rapist.
But whatever the case might be elsewhere, good customer service can be
difficult to find, at least in some sectors.
This is on my mind for two big reasons. I’ve been going back and forth all
week in emails and phone calls between our physician and a specialist she
wants me to visit. My bride blames this all on HMOs, but I don’t see why
the additional paperwork they require should be used as an excuse for
incompetence, rudeness and a total lack of concern by the clerks who are
charged with shuffling that paper.
And I’ve been doing the same with the representative of the dealership that
sold us our new van. Our temporary tags have expired--SIX WEEKS after we
bought the car--and the regular plates have yet to arrive in the mail. The
dealership has found a convenient scapegoat--the state motor vehicles
bureau--but in all my direct dealings with that agency, I have encountered
nothing but quick and efficient response.
I could go on, but why bother? The Christmas season--often the great excuse
for worker inefficiency and rudeness--is on us. I’m sure one day I’ll get
that appointment with the specialist to whom my doctor’s staff keeps
insisting they’ve faxed the referral to, the same referral the specialist’s
staff keeps saying they haven’t received. And I’m sure one day our van’s
permanent plates will arrive in the mail.
And I will let the true spirit of Christmas calm my agitation for now.
Nevertheless, I hope Santa leaves those clerks and sales people nothing
more than a small chip of coal in their stockings.

It happens a few times during the “Happy Season” and last for a few days before I can seem to pull myself up out of it. I’m not sure where it originates, and probably after analyzing the hell out of it off and on over the years, I can’t say I care where it originated anymore. I just know it hits, without warning, without any provocation. Making a mockery out of everything I absolutely LOVE about the Holiday Season.

I know it lets up, and then I’m able to kick into gear, and get the shopping and the decorating, and the present wrapping complete. But during the funk, I don’t feel like socializing with anyone, have a tough time counting my blessings, and just want to crawl back into bed and hide for a while. Anxiety over the stress of the Holidays? Most likely. But it sucks none the less.

I had to write an email this last week, that part of me didn’t want to. After declaring my boredom here, my desire to find something of my own, I got a phone call from my former boss, asking me if I would be interested in coming back to work for him. I of course, caught off guard, said that yes I would be interested. He was on vacation out of state when he called to see if I was interested. It felt good to be thought of, and asked back after so long.

After getting off of the phone, and looking at my day to day schedule, I was at a loss of how I would be able to do it. Riley is struggling at school to the point of possibly not going on into 5th grade. Struggling so much so, that three weeks prior I had signed him up for Kumon, a program much like Sylvan. He is required to go to his Kumon classes twice weekly from 3 to 4, with homework from Kumon 6 days a week.

Not disciplined enough to be able to do it on his own, I am required to police his homework at every turn, with him fighting me every step of the way. With an X who says he is not the least bit worried about him, that he’ll be just fine, it’s an uphill battle, that has me yanking my hair out, and Satan’s Spawn testing my resolve every step of the way.

Tayler who is involved in Girl Scouts, basketball, violin and the media broadcasting team at school, was not happy to hear of the possibility of her mom going back to work fulltime. The kids’ dad is working major amounts of overtime, my husband is learning a new job, so both dads ability to pick up any slack where the kids are concerned are limited at best.

In conclusion there wasn’t a way for me to figure out how to attend to Riley’s educational needs responsibly and return to work. Being the coward that I am, I sent my former boss an email explaining myself, instead of calling. That was that. I’m pretty sure I have burned that bridge now. I am not sure I really wanted to return to an office position anyway. It was just so nice to be asked. Noticed? Maybe.

Sometimes it’s hard as a SAHM to measure any sense of accomplishment, recognition or success. Right now success is NOT getting a phone call from the Principal of Riley’s school that week. Which was not the case this last week. Making the thought of running back to a fulltime job and hiding from Satan’s Spawn all the more desirable.

Instead I sat on the phone with Mr. A listening to him tell me of Riley’s latest escapade, which when you boil it down, consisted of Riley calling two girls in his class penis heads. Not once, but twice. As he followed up his original statement with “In fact, you’re penis head 1 and you’re penis head 2.” just for good measure I guess. These are the same little girls he had problems with last year beating on him, because I had managed to instill in him, that boys don’t hit girls. So instead he is working at improving his verbal warfare. Why it hasn’t occurred to any of these three kids to stay the Hell away from each other is beyond me. It seems they are drawn to each other, purely for the purpose of battle.

Most of the time, I am grateful for all of God’s Blessings, but right now, I don’t want to count them. One of those Blessings goes by the proper name Riley, and at the moment I’m not sure if he was meant as a Blessing or a curse. Quit laughing dad. Someone remind me to delete this before I die, so I don’t scar the little darling with my negative feelings, that end up costing him years of therapy. (It’s always moms fault) Before anyone comes to the conclusion that I am an unfit mother for writing these things, let alone thinking them...Don’t. My way of dealing with funks, depressions, and discouragements, is with sarcastic and morbid humor. (I know I’m not funny, this is for me though, and if it makes me smile, so be it.)

Well at least with age, you learn bad days are not the end of the world. And that yes, this too shall pass.