Untitled, a photo by katieavenson on Flickr.

A different look is ahead

I am trying something new - almost akin to moving furniture around in your home.  I am moving from Blogspot to Wordpress.  I don't know if i will end back with blogspot, but giving Wordpress a try.

You can "Follow" me here.  Click on the follow link so that you can get updated postings.

www.1elocution.wordpress.com

I had a difficult time with the name and this was the best option at the time.
Thanks.

Easier to be?

Last night, I went out with a friend of mine.  We have known each other off and on since our kids were in preschool together - roughly 10  years.  In the last two years, we have sought a connection within the other and our time together is filled with laughter, heavy sarcasm, present life forces and ...did i say, laughter?

It takes little effort to 'be' with this woman.  I can not say this statement rung true 10 years ago when i was a young mother, captured within my own navigation and molding of moments around me.  Authenticity strongly revels within me and the compromise of this often shackles my insides; and yet, 10 years ago, I probably compromised quite a bit.

So, I question; what was the issue in these past years that we never found the other?  Were we both on a traveled journey that hadeventually lead us to the other? Certainly.  I question why those journeys were so different.  What were we trying to prove? Find? Discover? Hide?  It's all on the table now but oh so sheltered back then.

How does age gracefully grant you into the world of 'Let's Be Real'

Is it because, as I *do* age in this continuum, i am a stronger individual?  I feign not.  Is it because I am wise enough to be who I am, regardless of perception -- I think i like this answer best.

I am still learning, i am still on that road, but I am more comfortable in my own skin than once was.

So, perhaps 44 isn't so bad after all (laugh).

In ten years I will be 54.  My children will be 24, 22, 20 and 12.  What will I be writing about then?  Who  will I be counting on as friends.  I have few that have been with me for many many years and I can only hope that we are still holding hands together as we travel on.

Thanks for listening.
Katie

Midlife Crisis??

Wearing MOM jeans today

Trying to punk them out a bit

                The above pictures are the result of some texts I sent out this morning to a friend.  

Certainly, I am not in crisis but more or less following protocol. I have barely begun my 44th  rotation around this sun and I am already dreading getting closer to number 45.  

This is the year --
- the wrinkles
- the flab
- the blatant c-section scar that now does not look back at me as a cute little reward but an added pock to the rest of this body's transformation
-groans and moans and aches

Last Saturday, john and I went out.  We played cards at a coffee shop while the remainder of the store front filled in with people in eager anticipation for the band that was getting set up to play.  The music got too loud for john and as we exited, he looked across to the movie theater and as he got into the car, I heard him say, "9:35pm for the start time of a movie???"

I wanted to scream -- "YES JOHN -- 9:35!!!  We used to go to theater plays in LA that didn't even begin until 11pm.  9:35 movies was early.  Only old married people went to the 7:05 showing.  Families with kids. Poor single people who wanted to get home in time for the melodrama they were following on TV. We'd go to a movie and then out to dinner!"

Presently, it is not uncommon for John to ask, "Well, should we watch the news and then go to bed?"

WHO ARE WE????  I used to make fun of that sentence when i heard it from others.   Usually, when he asks this, I barely have my eyes open anyway.

I AM in crisis.

Last night, I looked forward to watching Madonna at the Super Bowl Half Time show.  She was my Lady Gaga back in the day.  I dressed like her, I blasted her songs, our family Doberman was even named after her.  She is 10 years older than me and even though she did a phenomenal job - it was very tamed.  Her dance moves were slowed and less risky, she even tripped up a bit at one point.  All the sparkle went to the surrounding dancers.  She is physically fit, but truth be told, she may fall down and break a hip or something (laugh).  I walked away from her performance with my reality stirred.

This is not an argument for wanting to stay young.  This is a reality check of where I am at.  I am at the threshold of something different.  I am not quite looking forward to it, but I do know that I have to make the most of it.


In marking my own children's birthdays we gladly exclaim
- "Wow, you are 1 years old!"
- "Look at that, you are a whole hand now."
- "My goodness, now you are 2 whole hands."
- "You are now a teenager....great things are coming your way."

no one was at my door this year congratulating me for turning 44.  Nor do I anticipate a grand induction into number 45.

So, how do I mark this entry into something that reminds me of the "no longer" days.  Not sure.

John works with a very creative and talented man. I am guessing that he is not yet 30.  He recently did all the graphics for an upcoming music video.  There is a CD release party this Friday night.  If I don't wear my eddie bauer jeans and sensible J.Jill top, I am wondering if we would still stick out.  "Why are those old people in the corner?  Is that prune juice i see them drinking?  Isn't the news about to come on? shouldn't they be home by now?"

My children remind me almost daily that I just don't 'have it' and i love saying aloud to them, "Well, back in MY day...." I also inform them that this whole getting old bit is just as new to me as perhaps their new journey into teenage hood.  I've never been here before.  But instead of running eagerly to meet up with those years, I find myself clinging and fighting. ... and writing about an impending midlife crisis.

One day, I shall reflect back on the year that I complained with i turned 44.  I will get mad at my younger self and scream back, "You were 44!  The world was your oyster!"

I am keenly aware of my days.
Thanks for listening.

"you're name is katie? that's awesome..."

The cute blond 14 year old with a feather in her hair responds with this after I introduce myself as Mrs. Avenson, Perry's mom. "I saw your name in the school directory;  you're name's Katie?  That's awesome."  I nodded with a confident yes, indicating back to her that yes, indeed, it *is* awesome that my name is Katie.  She took a handful of chips and walked out of the room.

As the sun rose, filling my kitchen with a soft glow, the impending evening looked so much different than what played out in reality.   School dance for 2 boys.  A church lock in for a 10 year old and a very independent and quiet evening with husband and baby.  Maybe escape for a few hours here or there.

But I do not have the gift of prophecy, and consequentially, have to live accordingly.

Afternoon Text:
P: Is it okay if I hold the anti-dance at our house tonight?  (for those of you not in the know - the anti dance is when a group of kids think it is cool to ban the officially organized school dance)
 *** This text was sent at 12:54 - at the tail end of Perry's lunch period

M: How many

P: Around 10 - 14

M: No!  5 - 6 friends, yes.  No more than that.
***I can easily say yes to the 5 - 6 simply because I know these kids.  I see them weekly and during the summer days, I see them daily.  And, I like them all.

From there; communication went all down hill.  The teenager who forever is noted as a keen negotiator ultimately played his father and I against the other - blaming it all on miscommunication.  This makes me laugh --- now.  earlier, it was a different story.

Looking through Perry's phone just minutes ago, within the hour of the first initial communication to mom -  texts went flying out to all his friends, "So, I am probably hosting the anti-dance party tonight, let me know if you can come."   Going back further in his texts, late the other night, perry had sent out a mass text asking, "Soooo, do we know who is going to host the Anti-Dance party."  The wheels were already in motion.

The 5 - 6 friends turned quickly into 12 and how we got to this was a path that was not part of my morning vision early today.  It was rocky, it was loud, it was exhausting.

I explained to my son, you ultimately had a choice in how this played out this evening.  You could have had a mom who reacted with kindness, support, and excitement.  Instead, your mother put her head down and silently said to herself, "I can' t believe he is asking of me again."  I explained that if he was a balanced member in this family - if he contributed his time, his conversation, his responsibility then my decision would easily have been made.  Instead, he received a mother full of question and lack of willingness.  It had nothing to do with the impact of my evening.  It had everything to do with his motivation as a teen and member.

I went to the store, i bought a bag of cheap tortilla chips, a jar of salsa,  a canister of lemonade and a box of fruit snacks.

Yummy Party Eats! Beautiful Display

Displaying the contents on the table, I say. "Perry, *this* is what this party looks like to me.  This is the effort I am willing to give it.  You don't get the mom who wants to help you make the most of the evening.  This is what it looks like; when you take advantage of situations provided for you."

Soon after my TV talk show mantra, John entered from work.  "Perry, explain to me why you told me that mom told you 8 kids would be okay and why you asked me to bump it up to 11?"

Perry looked a bit bewildered -- trying to figure out how his separate conversations between the parents got back to the other.

Ironically, during our conversation, Perry's phone began to receive one text after the next about this person being able to come and that person being able to come.  He looked confused, discouraged, and out of luck.  Trying his best, he asked, 'What am I supposed to do? All these people want to come now."   We responded, "You tell them that you are very sorry, but they can not come."  We also added that if he wants to feed his friends any more than what is provided, he has to figure that out as well.

Now, sitting here as all the kids dance in the adjacent room, I laugh as I read through perry's frantic text messages from friends. "What do you mean I can't come now?"  "If i bring a bag of chips, can I come."  "If i don't have anything to bring, can I still come?"  "SO, i can't come at 7?  Can I come at 8 instead?" "So, Amy is not coming.  Can I come now?"  "But, you told me to invite the guys at the lunch table next to us." "I don't think i understand."

Perry had his own mess to clean up.  I grabbed my keys, got the other two children into the car and took them to their respective evening destinations.

The Disco LED Light Show

Upon returning, I counted the heads of kids bopping around the room with mood lighting, disco lights, and glow sticks....9 in total.  Some had brought food and perry was happy.

I have to admit, it was fun to see him squirm for a bit.  His best laid plans unraveling before him and his parents were not willing to cast him a line.

I asked him just now, "Perry, how do you think your party is going?"
"It's better than I thought it would be."
"How so?"
"Well, i wanted to get more stuff set up, i would have liked to have more people, but i think everyone is having fun."

Parenting is hard.  I am not at all afraid to admit this.  Earlier today, I called my husband as I was picking up the 2/$3.00 tortilla chips.  "Hi," he said as he answered the phone.  "So, when are you and I going to enroll in the Hard Ass School of Parenting?  Why are we so soft?  I told him 5 to 6 kids and now, apparently he told me that you said 8 kids was okay,"  "No.  He told me that YOU said 8 was okay."

My child simply wants to enjoy time with his friends.  That is it.  A parent who was chaperoning the school dance this evening texted to tell me that the girls who set their purses down inevitably had things stolen out of them.  I know this is not where my children are at.  I can be thankful of this.

_____

The party is now over.  All 9 guests left the house with smiles on their faces, gratitude on their lips, and memories of a 9th grade "Anti-Dance" party.  I hope I did good.

Thanks for listening.

...thank you...thank you...thank you......

THANK YOU - Song (click on link)


You've been so kind and generous
I don't know why you keep on giving
For your kindness I'm in debt to you
For your selflessness--my admiration
For everything you've done
You know I'm bound--I'm bound to thank you for it

Lalalalalala... 10 times

Hey, hey
You've been so kind and generous
I don't know why you keep on giving
For your kindness I'm in debt to you
And I never could have gone this far without you
For everything you've done
You know I'm bound--I'm bound to thank you for it

Lalalalalala...

Oh I want to thank you for so many gifts
You gave me love and tenderness 
I want to thank you
I want to thank you for your generosity, 
The love, and the honesty that you gave to me
I want to thank you, show my gratitude, 
My love and my respect for you
I want to thank you

Oh, I want to thank you, thank you,
Thank you, thank you,
Thank you, thank you
Thank you, thank you,
Thank you, thank you,
Thank you, thank you,
Thank you, thank you,
Thank you..
I want to thank you, thank you, 
Thank you, thank you, 
Thank you, thank you,
Thank you, thank you... 

Warning...Subject to Positivity

I have come to the sound conclusion that I need to, at the very least, list off all the fantastically good that wraps me in love and smiles.  This blog dictates a specific authenticity.  Camouflaging my reality for a benefit of others would be impractical.

On any given day, when things are not necessarily going as smoothly as I want them to, or if subject matter brings me to pause, I  often stop in my tracks and remind myself, "THIS is something to write about."  I have to tell you, this happens many times throughout the day and as in picking the longest straw - only one subject matter is chosen.

Tonight, I nod my head in agreement, a smile warms my face and my toes tap to the music on my Pandora station.

2-1-12 Positivity

* Surrounded....surrounded in love and support.  I feel it from those whom love me, care for me and know me.  I am never alone.

* Pastors at church.  The one absent from yesterday's meeting stopped me tonight on the church stairs, and still wants to connect, "Katie, I still want to find time to talk."

* Funny children that make me laugh.

* Fantastic, awesome, glorious family.

* Moments like this, where I can sit and breath and see this line that I am on in this tunnel and know that I am still strong in continued desire

* FRIENDS.  You know who you are and i LOVE YOU!!!

* Music.  The depths where music takes me. Gratitude for perspective

* Coffee.  I am spending far too much on espresso drinks.  If a 4.00 coffee can offer me a bit of perk to my day, I am all over it.

* I guess somewhere, I have to note the support of my husband.  He has taught me much and if there is anything that I love him the most is that he has my back 100 percent of the time.  He is not the most conversational husband, he may not be the most intuitive or the most romantic --- but I can emphatically  declare that I have his support in anything I do.  He continually allows me to fly and quietly gives me air.

*Health

* Natalie Merchant songs always make me smile:
-------ALWAYS MAKES ME SMILE --------
WONDER


O, I believe
Fate smiled and destiny
Laughed as she came to my cradle
Know this child will be able
Laughed as my body she lifted
Know this child will be gifted
With love, with patience and with faith
She'll make her way 

People see me
I'm a challenge to your balance
I'm over your heads
How I confound you and astound you
To know I must be one of the wonders
Of god's own creation
And as far as you can see you can offer me
No explanation 


To anyone and everyone reading this blog.... as always, thank you forevermore in listening to my thoughts, my diatribes, my rants, my perspectives, my quirky insights, my naive philosophies, and   my need to put it all out there sometimes.
Katie

"...and what's new with you?"

This time last year, I was the Director of a Homeschool Co-Op. I was 'actively' engaged.  I was homeschooling 2 children.  I had a 1 year old who was in the prime of discover.  I had a teenager who was in continuous self-revelationy mode himself which created tension, chaos, denial, but strengthen a parental bond.  I was closely assisting with the transition of a new Children's Ministry Director at our Church, i had hours to volunteer, I was planning a trip for Paris and my life was never in a series of question that I find myself in 365 days later.

In a matter of months, and much of it by choice, but ALL of it by God's will - I am no longer in my co-op.  I am no longer homeschooling.  My 1 year old is now 2.  My teenager is still is a teenager - but gone are the days of battled endeavors that daily plagued this family. I took myself out of Children's Ministry, volunteering is at a minimum and there are no pending trips to Paris at this time.

But, I am (and as it seems, forever shall be) in a world of suffering.  Again, a choice, as well as a direction of a Divine Will.

What is new with me? you ask.  What *is* new with me.  Not a whole lot.  I can take up several minutes of your time with an enraptured cadence about this new found world of grief.  Other than that???  I would be hard pressed to find something.  

Today, I sought council because of an invitation by my pastors. I had written them both am emotionally charged, exasperating email and they both wrote immediately, wanting to see me.

I am at the end of my course. I am confused, i lay in question, I am resistant, I am angered.  This is what is new with me.  I sat for just over an hour - refusing to cry.   Refusing to show affect of this.  I had to prove to myself that I was still strong and viable.  My pastor cried for me.  He showed an incredible love for me.  "Katie, we've got your back, sistah!  We will cry for you when you can't.  The fact that you are here, that you wrote an email means that you are fighting for this."

The end of our meeting lead to more business about some responsibilities i have at the moment.  it was good to end there. I composed myself to head on out.   As we walked down the hall, a friend poked herself out of her office.  "Hey, can you come in and talk for a while?  Here, take a seat.  Do you have a second to talk?  What's new with you?"

"I Don't Belong Here"

So.... belonging.

This past October, when my world was literally flying through  multiple open venues, my Pastor called me on the phone and requested my presence on our church council. I truly did not take too long to think about this.  There were no pros or cons.  I had completely accepted the transition of my life at that time and took this as another placement by God.  He had cleared my agenda thus far and I had no place for argument....with the occasional, 'why me? why now? why this? why the rush?" (smile)

This post has all intention of being  blunt and to the point. And perhaps there will be unanswered questions on this end, or even assumptions made by myself that do not all together fit.  But, I have to honor the stream of consciousness that has brought me to this point.

January 28 and 29: Church Council Retreat: Oak Ridge Conference Center, Chaska, Minnesota.  

Tonight, I sat nicely in my chair that occupied 1 of 5 spaces at the orderly placed round table.  My green folder with agenda and newly Xeroxed pages sat waiting for me.  We began in prayer, which was okay, and then we had speakers discuss their timely work on our newly developed Strategic Plan.  After, we sang songs, prayed as a group and then had additional round table discussions.  All together, we were approximately, 25 or so in number (this included some staff as well as the Vision Team Committee that spear headed the Strategic Plan).

A question was posted towards the end of the Power Point Presentation.  “Where did you start? and Where are you now?  We were guided in discussing our faith walk and where we were within the midst.  I was the last one to answer in my small group – which was just as well; I was able to compare my thoughts and ideals and try to match something to anyone at the table; but I couldn’t.  I couldn’t find one single, solitary match. 

Inconspicuously, i pulled out my phone and texted my husband and a friend: "I don't belong here"

But I needed to find a way to answer without leaving further room for question.

I feel like I don’t belong in a church : an edifice that dictates my being.  I feel this is misplaced.  Worship should only enhance the flavor of my love and devotion to God; but it doesn’t.  These people talked about the moment they found God.  The moment that He reached out to them and called them by name.  The life altering event or the church small group they found themselves in, the clarity of worship.  The quiet moment in prayer. The backing of Theological reference and study. 

I went out on a limb and naively stated that God is not in a church for me.  Religion is not in a pew.  I tried my best to explain my feelings openly.  “I don’t know the bible very well.  I can’t quote scripture. In life, church for me was the homeless man in the alley, the child with no lunch,dirty shirt and hardships,  even a quiet Sunday bike ride, a coastal drive at sunset and a moment of finding and discovering my best self in God.   As I grew, I worked with neglected and severely abused  children.  As a young adult, I brought in children to my home whom were in need of a familial diversion.  I feel God  leads me in my life to certain people or places and I follow.  Presently, I am helping a woman who lost her husband whom I did not even know 10 months ago and she and I (this is where I had to cut it short, as I would have for sure been too emotional and this would not bode well), are working into a friendship. It’s God.   I feel I need to live a spiritual life.  Where I am or how I got here, I do not know…..but ……(and then I couldn’t really answer and this is when they all just looked at me)…I don’t think I ever had a ‘hit on the head with a rock’ kind of moment.  So, I am still learning.”

Then it just went on.  We had more prayer time, communion, sang too many songs and called it a night – with the exception of an impending social hour.

So, this is me. 

I don’t even like quoting formulated and massed produced prayers.  I really feel unsettled when it calls for an All Congregation moment of prayer or to sing songs that I do not know that bear no weight or symbolism in my world.  Does that make sense?  I will quote the Apostle Creed, I will follow through with the 5 lines of what ever is printed in the bulletin, but it doesn’t bring me closer to God.  Again, I am sure I am wrong in all this, or at least uneducated. 

Tomorrow, when it is all business again, I will try to fill a spot of agreeance .  I will try to accommodate my need to flee with my need to contribute.  I don’t know why I said yes to this council, but I am trusting God that this is where I am supposed to be – although I am kicking and screaming like a baby, on the inside.

Maybe there is a crash course in Theology I can take.  Maybe I can jot down friendly and impressive scripture passages; "Hey, did you hear of the passage in Mark 8?  Oh ya, wasn't that a kick in the pants?" 

 I need to learn a great deal.

We have breakfast at 7:30.  I am so happy I have my own room tonight! Something the outcast in me requested from the council president; as I did not want to spend an evening with a 'roomie'

re-reading the text - it's gibberish. 

 I appreciate the open ear.

Change in Tide

Earlier this afternoon, I was all but ready to post another "motherly angst against teenager" post.  As I drive 12 year old to a school event, I made the conscious decision to simply bury the issue.  I came home, hugged my 14 year old and told him I loved him  and sarcastically added that we will make it through.  Albeit a humorous additive to life, this is not what holds down the weight to my days.  The significance to my life always and forever will be my husband and children and I have ultimatelly found balance between my home environment, my need and desire to parent my children and my goal to be a supportive wife to my husband.

 But....

I am again, called to grieve and carry on with a friend.

This past December, Joy had to deliver some life changing news to her children. In addition, her back gave out on her and she has been coping in this life during the Christmas season with a very compromised physicality.  

Without wanting to face the reality, it has been getting progressively worse and because of this, her world has been in great need.   Today, her 10 year old daughter and I went out to complete the birthday shopping for the soon to be 13 year old this Saturday.  Upon returning home, Joy texts me to let me know that she her leg is going numb below her knee.  She calls the doctor and he orders an MRI.  How do you go to an ER with 4 scared kids and tell them that Mommy needs to get an MRI....the understanding that a back needs to be fixed is the logical view, but the emotional weight of a sick parent is too much to carry on young souls.

As she and I were on the phone talking, my 14 year old was outside shoveling the remainder of the snow off the driveway.  He was in great need of raising the remainder of his Ski Lift Ticket.  I approached him with a smile on my face, "Well, dear, you are in good luck, I need to go to the hospital, and YOU get to babysit your baby brother.  You should be free and clear with your finances by tomorrow."

So, with great enforcement, one friend comes in, gathers all of Joy's children to bring them to Grandmas house.  I arrive and get Joy into the car.

I sit as she lays upon the bed and tell her that I am writing.  I do not tell her that I am tearing on the inside as to why this is happening.  There is no *good* in this.  The intake nurse states, "It says here that David Plaisted is your emergency contact - is this still the case?"  "No, he died in March" came the quiet reply.

I write.  I write through the bad, the awful,, the ugly and the good.  I am trying to find the good.

Tomorrow, I will pile 5 large teenagers in my car with skis and snowboards, helmets, boots, etc.  I am able to afford a living memory for my son and I think to a certain degree, I am encouraging this friendship that he has with his very good friends.  Friends that any mom would be happy to have in her home.  This is good.

Thanks for listening.

There is a Baker Amongst Us....

I seem to tilt my head to the left and then look over my right shoulder.  "Where?" I ponder.  "Where is that baker? Clearly not here.

I am not one to go down without a fight

Yes, I have declared the position of baking in the year 2012.  Picture me, the hostess mom with a plate full of *something* when the kids come home.  In honesty, there is an almost emptied bag of chip crumbs.  A box of crackers that have been left open and on the verge of stale.  Juice that fills 1/4 a cup (drip, drip, drip). And most days, I great them with a beer in hand.  Well, no, that last sentence isn't true.  I have already had the beer...the bottle is in the recycling :)

What have I learned in my last 3 baking episodes?
1. I have much to learn.
2. Following directions is a must (at least for me and my outcomes)
3. "Katie Improvisings" will yield unpleasant results
4. Tools are everything
5. While cooking with a toddler certainly has it's benefits; the expectation of greatness needs to be out buried deep down into the ground.
6. Presentation doesn't do a thing but make the food look pretty.  No flavor enhancement whatsoever
7.
8.
9.
10.

oh, so much more to learn.

Last night, I made a delicious Machaca (mexican dish). No directions - just creative flow.  I went to bed with the tantalizing sense that I was going to get to eat more of it for lunch today.  10:30 rolled around this morning and i was already digging into it.

2:00 came today, the buzzer dinged, I pulled out my lovely looking Pumpkin Tarts, took a bite and shook my head in dismay.  Am I discouraged by this --- not necessarily.  I have resolved that i need to be a bit more precise.

Present Baking History

1. Banana Bead:  This simple bread took most of the morning as i scrutinized over the given text








2. (no picture yet) Whole Wheat Rolls:  Why whole wheat? because it was the only flour i had that said it was good for bread.  The plain white flour didn't say anything; so that scared me.  I didn't even have a roll recipe - but made the rolls from the 'bread loaf' recipe instead and found some youtube video on how to bake the rolls.

3. Pumpkin Tarts: I knew that i needed the crust and I knew that i needed something with pumpkin.  I bought better flour and checked ingredients for a pastry dough.  I did not, however, follow the directions on how to make it. Well, i *did*, but i improvised when it was not the 'ball like' consistency that was needed.  The filling was a complete creation.  I looked at three separate recipes and took bits and pieces out of all three that suited my fancy.  Assumptions were made and the fractional elements of success were impeded upon someone with little patience.  Also - Youtube assisted me again; there are quite a few bakers out there who love to teach how to make tart shells.

So, I need to find something a little bit more my style.  But, i refuse to go back to cutting out the cookies of the refrigerated rolled pillsbury guy and fake those off as a home made addition.  I admit, there have been times that I have gone to the store, bought something that looked like i could make (mainly overpriced brownies), cut them up, put them on a plate and pass them off as mine.  It hasn't been many times, but it has happened.  Although, one time, it was a bit difficult as someone brought the same exact dessert and was smart enough to leave it in the store bought pan.  I made sure to move mine farther down the table - as to not bring upon suspicion (laugh).

Time is up.

Dialogue in Teenage-Hood

Toddlers have shirts crafted after their life motivation: making the world all about them ~  "Mine-Mine-Mine"  This is an expected phase and adults often excuse this behavior as the presumed and anticipated.  


During these present moments, I am experiencing this same model, not with my toddler but with my 14 year old. I often think that marketers have missed their mark.  Those cute 2T t-shirts that have toddler-esque tag lines are wasted on the young.   The whole 'mine' and 'no' and 'here comes trouble' can just as easily be applied to teenagers.


A bit of conversation in timeline of past days---- i hope you can follow along.  But first - some ground rules (if not mentioned before).


1. Music instruments are to be practiced 5 days a week.  If not achieved, then music lessons that week are to be paid by participant.


2. Chores are expected each and every day.  Responsibility lies solely on the family member.  If no chores are completed, then no payment is received for said chore.


3 Payday is every other Friday


January 9 - 13 (payday 1/13)
Knowing he had a ski date coming up on the 21, he worked very hard this week to earn enough money to go.  He also knew that payday was the 13th, so all monies had to be acquired by the 13th to be able to go.      Getting him to do guitar practice was a battle that week.


January 16 - 20
No Chores.  None.  Sat on his small butt on the couch. Wandered around the house with hands in his pockets.  Built legos. Wandered some more.  Gave short, one word answers when attempting to engage in conversation.  On Friday afternoon, he practiced guitar on his own.  (guitar lessons are on Tuesdays. Beginning on Friday was calculated out - this would be the first of five days of practice)


Saturday: Skiing all day.  9am - 9pm.  He gets home around 9:30.  Dead tired.  Opens up guitar case, sits on his bed.  Plucks a few chords and stares at the floor on and off for 15 minutes.  "I'm going to bed," he declares when I make my presence known.  Ultimately, this means that he will be paying for lessons.  


Before he falls asleep, "Mom, my friend is having a surprise birthday party at the mall tomorrow.  We area all going to have lunch and then go see a movie.  It's at 2pm.  Soooo, can i go?"


"Perry, I am fresh out of money.  Do you have anything saved up from your chores?"
"I spent it on snowboarding today."
"Well, then, I'm afraid you can't go.  Sorry."
"Sooooo, you are saying that I can't go?"
"Yes, that is what you are hearing me tell you. My guess is that if you were consistent in doing chores on a daily basis, you would have plenty of money to go."


SUNDAY MORNING, JANUARY 22
"Mom, about today.  Is there a way that I can go to the party?"
Exasperated, "No, Perry.  You cannot go!"
Little sister adds into conversation, "Perry, I have 50 dollars if you want to borrow it."
"Hey, thanks!"  "Mom, so will you be able to drive me to the mall?  I need to be there before 2pm."
"I'm thinking you need to arrange your own ride on this one."
"Mom, I have it arranged that I will go with my friend's family if you are able to pick us up."
Coaching him: "Mom, is it okay if you pick me and my friend up from the Mall tonight? If so, i would really appreciate it."
He responds, "So, does that mean you will be picking us up tonight?"


Side Note: I pulled sister aside. I made her draft up a contract and Perry had to give up snowboard as collateral.  He gets until Sunday, January 29th to pay it off.


Because I am upset that he is able to go on his own 'borrowed' dime. I bring up the sensitive subject of guitar - that still has not been touched.


"Perry, I need to tell you that you owe me 20.00 for your lesson on Tuesday."
"Well, there is no way i can earn 20.00 before Tuesday."
"Then I have no choice - you will not be able to go and if you do not go, you are telling me that this is not a priority, but rather an expensive hobby.  I can't have this and will have to end your lessons."
"Well, okay, if you want to make that decision, then go ahead."


SUNDAY EVENING, JANUARY 22
"Mom, since i have no school on Friday, I'm thinking about getting a bunch of friends together to go snowboarding all day.  Would you be able to take us to Hyland?"


very agitated at this point.  
Another aside - many moons ago, i told him that if he earned half of the ski lift ticket, I would pay the rest.  I am regretting this statement.


Calmly:
"Perry, you owe your sister $15.00 from your time on Saturday.  You need to earn an additional $20.00 to go snowboarding.  How do you intend on making 35.00 this week?" (and of course, this Friday falls on a payday)
"I am going to go work on a contract right now and if I can earn more than 8 dollars a day with chores, i can do it."
"So, you are taking guitar off the table for good?"
"Well, i won't be able to earn 20 by Tuesday and *you* are the one who made that decision...soooo, i guess.....ya."


again...getting agitated. Here is this boy willing to work his butt off for something he really wants: Mall and Snowboarding.  But not something that is a privilege and an art...AND he was the one that encouraged both his father and I to agree to giving him lessons.  He REALLY wanted this. 


MONDAY AFTERNOON AFTER SCHOOL
"Mom, here is my list of chores that I am going to do.  I can earn 7 dollars to today and I can earn 10 tomorrow - IF i am allowed to watch Sidney for an hour and do other chores. So, I can pay lucy off and begin to work on my lift ticket for Hyland." 


"So, it looks like you have 17.00 earned by Tuesday.  This means that you are close to 20.00!  YOU CAN PAY FOR GUITAR!!


"What?!  Well, what about Hyland?!" 


"Perry, you need to figure out what your priorities are.  You have said that you wanted to stay in guitar, but I was pulling rank on you with having to put your money into it.  Being that you really want to stay in it, here is your chance my dear!"  


A mumbled, "Okay,  i will do guitar."


"Good Choice!'


"So, that means that I will really need to work hard this week to earn the extra money for Hyland."


Yesterday, he worked from 3 - 7 doing all kinds of chores around the house.  


I don't see him being able to carry this off --- but knowing my son, he is going to find a way.  I have already taken babysitting off the table as i have told him that if he showed he was a contributing member of this house and had a good track record, I would be more than happy to give him a couple of babysitting jobs to earn extra money.  Both last night and tonight, I will be going out.  Lucy, the 10 year old,  has been in charge.  I have left after the baby has fallen asleep, so the responsibility is minimal.   He has also been said No to on other occasions because of his lack of responsibility around here.  


So, akin to my younger self in trying to navigate a perfect system to, I am still trying to figure it all out.  


Thanks for listening 


Extra:
1. When you're a teenager, 'No' is a complete sentence
2. Raising teenagers is like trying wrestle slippery pigs with your hands tied behind your back
3. Having teenagers is like living with a bowling alley inside your head
4. Mothers of teenagers know why animals eat their young
5. Raising a teenager is like nailing Jell-O  to a tree

Relativity

Today, I received some news from a friend that left me a bit startled.  I reflected for a moment and committed to the fact that my world is just too small.

I write about sitting in a new office or my desire to bake.   Simple in structure.

My world is relative to where I am at.  My awareness is keen but not prominent.  My momentary existence surrounds 3 pre-teen/teenage kids and a baby.  We are healthy, we are happy, we live in suburbia.

When I discuss World issues with my children, they add in only so much as possible.  It is not relative to their immediate presence.

Blogs are directed at realities: death, toddling children, aging parents, chronic illness, despair, abuse, hope, even blinded environment.  Slants from this issue to that issue.

This blog is relative.  It has to be something.  It is what I know.

I look at this Blog and the 'relativeness' clearly is narrowed.  Presently, it is uncomplicated.  I am not in pursuit of something different; but acknowledging that this life is far from trauma, controversy, and/or pain.  I shall ride this wave for a while.

Voilia

New beginnings abound.  Clearly, I have baked before and i have had moderate success.

Baking is a completely different ballgame.   There are directions!  And, if you don't follow these directions, your whole world might spiral.  I don't do well with directions.  

No directions in cooking --- at least in my kitchen.  No two meals are the same.  "Mom, this is really good.  We should have this again!"  "Yes, we should, but I don't think I can repeat it."

Today, Sidney and I made banana bread.  Easy recipe - but perhaps a gateway for other baking experiences.  

This is Sidney in his older sister's apron.  He was very proud to wear it.

THE BEGINNING

Sidney was adamant about keeping the bananas out of the mix. This was the second attempt at saving them.

Domestication

I have exactly 23 minutes to figure out how to become domesticated.


** humorous make (someone) fond of and good at home life and the tasks that it involves: you've really domesticated him

Okay --- i am domesticated.  But, i have an odd yearning to live up to the potential of that word.

This past Fall, I ordered a couple of 'cooking' and 'baking' magazines from Lucy's magazine drive.  The ideal of this was coupled by warmer days and an accepting attitude.  I also have ordered a Wine magazine....if that adds anything to the story line.

Today, I made myself a list of all the fun domesticated things i can partake in while the baby is taking is daily nap.

We are now down to 20 minutes.

Baking:  I can actually become a baker.  Or i can pretend to be one.  The only apron i own is one that i bought for my daughter many years back when she had to dress the part of a chef for a book club.  It was a 2pack, so there is a plain white one that i wear or a very colorfully decorated one with Lucy's name on it.  This is only symbolic because it gives a visual to how much energy goes into baking in this household.  Not that one needs to wear an apron, mind you, but it adds to the completeness of venture.

I can bake breads, fun treats for the kids when they get home (that whole, warm plate of cookies sitting on the table picture)  Too many times, I have had to turn down my participation in something because i do not possess the baking gene. But, i am going to try. "No store bought products please..."  "Sorry, kids, I am going to have to sit this one out."

Cooking:  I am always going to the store at 5pm almost daily, picking up dinner for the evening.  This afternoon, it was 11 degrees outside.  "I should have planned better," came a thought.  In my domestication dream, i have meals planned in advance.

17 minutes left

I will write more --- start on my book.
I will draw more --- somewhere

I will have purpose.

Sewing: Domesticated people sew.  I tried that once and ended up going to a thrift store, ripping out the tags of an outfit and passed it off as something i made in Home EC class.  I forget the grade i received- but i imagine it was decent.  I received failing marks from my kindergarten teacher in 'cutting' and she went so far as to tell me that i needed help in that area.  If memory servers, there is a lot of cutting in the culture of sewing.

12 minutes left


Crafting: i am sorry to say, but if the craft requires more than Elmer's glue and pipe cleaners - then count me out.

Ironing: Another faux paus.  My husband was taught in the military how to iron an article of clothing properly.  Lucky for me, i was never in the military and one look at my ironing abilities almost 23 years ago, sealed the deal.  My husband irons our family's clothing - not me.

9 minutes to figure this all out 


7 minutes to go....thinking, thinking, thinking.


I think i will surf baking sites in the time remaining.

5 minutes ---- got to go.

Thanks for listening.

Changing Shapes

We laughed today as I asked, "Why would you want to know if my laundry smells because it has stayed in the machine too long?"  


Changing shapes into something mundane and humdrum


Today marks 10 months

I have allowed myself to be tangled within her world.  To be taken down into the depths of her despair as well as be there when there was a small glimmer of light and hope to her day.  She has stood strong and steadfast on her own terms, "I need to grieve, i want to grieve.  If this is too hard, I understand."

At times her heart and soul were like putty in my hands, but more often, she has glued herself back together innumerable times completely on her own.

We have acknowledged and analyzed this relationship that started with an electric jump and demanded that we find purpose in this quasi parallel journey.

And..... we have vowed to always be honest.  Blatantly honest.


Last month, my cup runneth over with more devastating news.  I retreated within myself.  I excused my absence.  At the end of the day, a gallon of paint and a smile were not going to fix this one.  My anger presented itself in silence and seeking.

In changing shapes, we look to the other - naive presence at times, asking to break these waves with something new. Something building.  The ground markings have been there; now it is up to us to keep up in it's definition.

We are building a new friendship through all this.  A friendship in definition.  A, "Hey, whatsa doin'?" simple question commitment.

The pathway in finding the other has been extraordinary.  The dance of friendship in a complete sense has not been experienced and I am excited at the prospect.  We are changing shapes.

I know of her struggles. I know of her desire for blue skies.  I know her tears. Her resignation.  I know her strength.  I know her need for purpose.

In today's 10 month marker, we went out to lunch.  a deliberate conversation that wrapped the other in love, humor, future engagements.

10 months today.  looking back.  looking ahead.  remembering. planning. smiling and not forgetting.

Thanks for listening.

here is a week in review via pictures.  

Sunday, January 15, 2012: Today, I painted a couple of pictures to hang by my new desk in the office. 

Saturday, January 14, 2012: John has been working on finishing the office.  Today, he finished staining the desk drawer fronts.  He chose a really cool looking blue to go against the dark mahogany stain. 

Friday, January 13, 2012: My friend and I went out for a wonderful dessert. 

Thursday, January 12, 2012: This evening, Lucy and I went out on a coffee date.  She had hot chocolate, we played cards and we laughed until our bellies ached.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012: Typical day.  Today, I took a picture of Lucy practicing her piano

Tuesday, January 10, 2012: Sidney and I took advantage of the unusual warmth and went to Lake Minnetonka in search of trains.  We didn't find any, but we enjoyed the morning outside.

Monday, January 9, 2012: Sidney and I playing around with my IPhoto app on the Mac.  We sent this picture to John telling him that Aliens will be attacking soon

Sunday, January 8, 2012: 19 years of marriage.  Orchid greeting me in the morning. Thai dinner out that evening.