2010 - A year in review

I'll rewind back to Christmas, 2009...my oldest son (Stretch) announces that he and his girlfriend have gotten engaged. But wait, there's more...no, not a set of ginsu knives...there's going to be a baby in our future. New Year's Day 2010 met me with a large to-do list, a short time frame and very limited budget. Sorry, Mr. Clooney, I will not be able to join you in Italy after all. Throw an impromptu, small family wedding and reception in February. Celebrate 14th anniversary, started a new business, got some bad news. Canceled spring break trip, booked time share for summer reunion. Lost twenty pounds! Threw a multi-cultural, drama-laden baby shower in July. Became a grandmother in August, just call me "Nana." Then things get complicated [she says, laughing].

In actuality, things are always complicated in my family. No good deed goes unpunished, as they say. Trying to be the parent you want to be does not always equal being the parent your child needs. Helping Stretch and wife move into a new apartment led to moving him again, and yet again before the baby arrived. The teenager decided to go full-blown James Dean, i.e. Rebel without a Clue. The business suffered a major set back with the sluggish economy, but struggles on as more of a time-sucking, demanding hobby that occasionally produces sales. I branched out into a second business venture, one with less overhead and greater returns.

Fall was a whirlwind of more than falling leaves. The family finances took a wonderful leap for the better (Thank God). Lots of drama, soap opera style, manifested in my life. There were school issues, health issues, and big decisions. We managed to gather all five living generations for a photo shoot, compliments of my fantastic first cousin.  As the holidays grew near, I realized it may be our last for such photos. It's been three years since my grandfather passed. My grandmother still shares her stories with a touch of sadness, and each Christmas has gotten successively harder for her without him. They were together more than 60 years, through two wars and five children. He stood over the casket of first a grandson, a daughter-in-law, then a son, before he left us. Words cannot express how much he is dearly missed.

Grandma D has been the glue that binds this large, eccentric family together. In their golden years, she hosted EVERY family gathering with a style and grace all her own. Grandpa's failing health stole that from her, from us all, to be honest. Being the oldest grandchild, and growing up the closest to them, I have a unique bond and cherished memories that define my childhood. Several failed attempts lead me to believe that her children are not capable of picking up where she left off. I'm not certain any of them actually want to try to fill those shoes, not that they ever could. The drama divides them exponentially as the years go by, it seems. It saddens me to know that my children have lost such a wonderful tradition, but I accept that the torch must be passed.

The face of a new generation inspires me. All is not lost, so long as the wonder and magic of family traditions  survive. "Be the change you want to see in the world." Thank you, Diane Sawyer. In the wee hours of the morning, in my commonly insomniac state, I realize that I am the grandmother now. It's my turn to host the family events with a style and grace all my own. So in the year to come, I shall be the glue that binds my family together. No matter how tenuous the hold, even if we have to split shifts to achieve it, we will gather. Holidays will be marked by togetherness, not gifts. Memories have far greater value than plastic toys ever will. Martha Stewart, I am not. But I do love her magazines, and a few of her holiday recipes often find themselves on my table.

2011 will mark the return of my favorite traditions, come hell or high water! Baking great Grandma D's homemade bread from scratch. The Easter egg hunt and family barbecue. The 4th of July at the lake. Camping at Road Atlanta. The whole Thanksgiving circus, from the giant meal to Black Friday, and wrapped gifts under the tree Saturday morning. Christmas morning with all my boys together. And for 2012, I declare there's going to be travel again! The Grand Canyon and Daytona Beach with the in-laws, and maybe New York City with the girls. Definitely a trip to Disney World with the grandkids. I better start saving now, I guess.

Lift your glasses and toast with me:

"Here's to the end of 2010, and all the bad luck and negativity that came with it."
"Here's to our many blessings, may they continue and multiply."
"Here's to our health, happiness, prosperity and peace in 2011." But above all...
"Here's to you, the friends, family and fans that make my world a wonderful place to be! Happy New Year!!!"     

A little perspective

At 9:30 pm, I get an All-call from the school board. "School will be delayed two hours in the morning due to icy conditions." Great, I think, there goes my day. In less than two minutes, I am grumbling as I mentally try to rearrange my to-do list and plans for the following day. By the time I get him to school, I will have lost half my work day. I can't get anything accomplished! I can't start project A without being able to complete it, move on to B and C or else I will be stuck with a HUGE argument that I can't win and isn't worth fighting. UGH!!!

But then I crack open the little's door (who should be sleeping), turn down his TV and proceed to tuck him in (again). I tell him he has thirty more minutes of his Christmas movie ONLY because he gets to sleep in the next morning. His face says it all, with a smile that lights up his whole demeanor. And just for a moment I remember what it means to be little and get even a partial "snow day." And I find myself smiling too. Can we make a special breakfast? Can I watch cartoons before school? Can I play outside if it snows?

Gone were all the concerns about work, deadlines and customer emails. **It happens. Roll with it. So after setting the timer on his TV (again), a kiss and lights out, I posted an auto-reply for my email system noting the morning closure and telling my customers to be safe on the roads. Somehow, I instantly felt ten years younger.

We had a hot breakfast in our PJs watching Disney cartoons, usually a Saturday-only  treat. We talked and laughed and sang silly Christmas carols while we got dressed. We wrapped his exchange gifts for the holiday party and made his bed. We even walked the dog in the drippy, misty cold. It was a great morning, and a pretty good day despite the grey, dreary weather. I didn't get ANY work done from my to-do list, focusing instead on household chores. Hopefully, that frees up a few hours to help me catch up. The day got progressively warmer and the drizzle stopped. By the time I picked him up from tutoring, it was 56 degrees out.

I woke today to the bright, shiny, smog-free, day-after-rain, amazing blue sky morning. I threw open the curtains to let the sunshine in. The birds were everywhere. Back to our regular, hectic, slightly frantic morning routine. What a difference those two hours make. We talked on the way to school about how much we love nature, and how important it is to preserve it for future generations. Clean air, clean water, green space, healthy trees and lakes and rivers. My goal with this chat is to get him on board for the radical food changes coming to our house next year. Knowing I'm going to need back-up to convince the junk-food addicted spouse, I want a partner in this that understands my motivation. But where it went surprised me...

"Because God wants us to," he added. He's been studying Genesis in his youth group and it's apparently sinking in. "He said it's our job to look after the whole earth, and the animals and each other. He said it would be hard." I know he loves going to his youth group, looks forward to it all week, and I know they do a lot of fun stuff together. During Sunday services, he tends to be shy and quiet. We don't talk a lot about religion in general, just our daily prayers and when bad things happen.

I've always wanted him to find his own faith and beliefs, not just parrot mine. I feel pretty strongly that religion should not be "installed" in children, but rather sought out by them with genuine interest. That surrounding them with love and religion, in their lives and homes, is better done by our actions than our words. Not that you shouldn't say the words, but that you shouldn't just teach them to repeat the words without understanding them. To me, religion must be in your heart, it's not just the ability to recite verse. This is not a popular idea where I live, and it will no doubt piss off a few people who read this.

When we do talk about it, I tell him that I believe certain things, but some people don't. We've talked about other religions, the holidays that they celebrate, and how we should all be respectful of other people's beliefs. It's not a competition. I find great comfort in my faith, in really knowing that there is something greater than myself, and some people don't have that. "I think that's sad," he says. "I know there's a God. Everything I have and everything I see is because of Him."

So this year, when my holiday spirit has been lagging, and my shopping list very spare, I have received the best gift. It wasn't a lot of money, or a gadget or a great new job. I got validation, in the deepest place in my heart, that he truly gets it. That he has chosen to have a strong relationship with God. That he wants to read the Bible and understand what it means for him. That he understands the meaning of Christmas, and it isn't Santa. Today, in the clear blue light of day, I am reminded to see what really matters.

Another tough year may be ahead of us. Certainly my resolutions will cause a few disagreements, perhaps even some shouting, and lamenting the loss of chips and pre-packaged sugary treats. I have chosen a difficult path fraught with pitfalls and challenges. But that is nothing new for me. For now, though, I am going to focus on enjoying the holiday break, the remainder of the year, my granddaughter's first Christmas and being a tourist in my own town.

The Year of Better Choices

What we expose ourselves to in this modern world makes me shake my head and wonder: How stupid are we? 

The headlines and internet articles warning of impending DOOM abound. Known carcinogens in our food supply, water and air. Smoking. Drunk driving. The invention of crystal meth. Huffing. Depression. Addictions. Poisons that fill our homes in the name of convenience. Formaldehyde hair treatments. Chem-trails. Genetically modified food sources, organisms, seeds and animals. Radiation. Climate change. Political sideshows. Racial tensions. Financial crises. Homelessness. Poverty. Hunger. Gun collecting. Gold stockpiling. Exploding rates of autism, cancers, auto-immune disorders, allergies, asthma, personality disorders, stroke, communicable diseases, heart attack, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, obesity, diabetes, deadly influenza and ADHD.

So I pondered and came to one recurring thought: What if none of these are separate from the others? What if humans have compounded the serious mistake of bio-genetic experimentation with grandiose thinking, greed, mass propaganda, short-sighted goals and good, old-fashioned, dabbling in evil? What if we've brought about an irreversible chain of events? What if we've not only bought the kool-aid, but we've taught our kids to love it, and their kids too? Is there any going back from here, the instant, life-size, microwavable, digitally enhanced, edge of oblivion? Or were the Mayans right?

Listening to a cluster of academics and one consumer advocate on a recent episode of Dr. Oz, I was forced to consider that darkest of all truths. What if bio-engineering these "Genetically Modified" foods really isn't about saving the planet or ending world hunger? What if it's just about making a buck and they simply don't care what the potential side effects might be? Their response, and I am quoting “There is no need for, or value in testing the safety of GM Foods in humans. So long as the introduced protein is determined safe, food from GM crops determined to be substantially equivalent is not expected to pose any health risks. Further, it is impossible to design a long-term safety test in humans.” 


So they've already done the GMing, already grown it, already sold it to (an unsuspecting) you, your kids have ALREADY EATEN IT, and they refuse to (in any way, shape or form) label it GMO?!? The answer is yes. Unless you grow ALL your own food, from your own seeds, without ANY mass-produced chemicals or fertilizers, you and I have likely consumed some Monsanto/Roundup proof/GMO products.

So then I had the even eviler thought, what if Agribusiness, in conjunction with big chemicals, decided to form an alliance with big pharma? How screwed would we be? Just for a moment, let yourself believe that it IS possible for this to happen in the United States of America.

If all processed foods were manipulated to make you sick slowly (hypothetically), causing symptoms you could buy pills to solve, you'd likely keep eating them. After all, they are so gosh darn convenient. So now you're buying the colon cleanse and the yogurts to help get things right again. If then they started making you abnormally fat, with large fat stores in places that are difficult to lose from, the upper arms, face and gut? So now they sell you a thousand different "weight-loss products," although none that offer results once you stop using them. Would you stop eating processed food then? What about if they gave you reflux disease, gallbladder and intestinal problems requiring surgery?  Still No? So ten years later, when they tell you it's a rare cancer, will you look at your plate and blame the soy burger? Not a chance! And even if you did, you'd never, EVER be able to prove it. As Agribusiness grows larger and more profitable, your choices grow slimmer. As long as the entire population tries them, then no one can ever truly BLAME them.

Proof in point, let's just look at cigarettes. If the government TRULY wanted to protect the citizens (from themselves), it would be massively regulated. Someone would have bio-engineered safe tobacco by now. But that hasn't happened. Why? You can call it a "free market," but I guarantee that ALL tax-payers foot the bill for tobacco-caused diseases. Free seems to be something like aloha these days. It can mean without cost; short for freedom; or reckless, lacking morality or entanglements. So why don't they have to be labeled "Cancer Sticks" rather than cigarettes? Because if one person smokes their whole life without getting cancer, it can be argued that there's no cause and effect relationship.

While I'm running wild with my conspiracy theories: let's say (hypothetically), we also have a "population problem." By definition, (purely for discussion) let's say we have a ballooning number of soon-to-be retirees and impoverished children of single parent homes. The middle ages of our citizenry are (mostly) productive workers, so they have value in our little experiment. But the very poor young and the elderly, those are high-burden ages. What if there were an illness that could target just the burdens? Hmmmm....like say, for instance, a nasty bird or swine flu? What would happen if a genetically-engineered, super-flu were introduced into large, over-crowded cities? Massive epidemic in the short-term, but perhaps a great relief in the long-run. Likely just before something like this could happen, you would need to see great expansion in the funeral home and crematory industry (just thinking ahead). Stranger still, I think I've heard a few recent news stories about those permit debates lately...surely not.

Reading book after book from angered parents about the possible link between required vaccines and autism, my heart goes out to all those affected. As a direct result, I did become a cautious parent with my youngest child, who (thankfully) does not have any sign of it. But he does have ADHD, as do his two brothers. We remain unmedicated at present time, mostly because I despise the thought of them requiring a daily prescription stimulant to function. I can't say that's an easy choice, nor does it make my life particularly pleasant most days. But then again, no one ever told me parenting would be fun.

When I lay awake at three a.m., unsettled and uncertain, it has occurred to me that perhaps our food may be a contributing factor in all these little phenomena. Even better I realize, what's the worst thing that can happen if I'm wrong about this? Say that GMO food is completely safe and healthy, yet I insist on avoiding them, what harm will come? Organic costs more, so maybe we eat a little less. But preparing foods at home is still cheaper than eating out, so maybe it will offset. The nagging thought remains, and must be said, what if the conspiracy theorists are right?  Then the price of doing nothing could literally be the life and/or health of someone I love.

I hereby issue forth this promise - to my family (and to anyone else reading this) - 2011 will be my "Year of Better Choices."  I will not count calories or log reps in a workout planner. I will move for SIXTY minutes each day - briskly, in a row, and for the purpose of creating sweat. I will use my fancy water filtration system, pitchers and stainless steel bottles I already own. I will thus forego all bottled and tap water for human consumption in my home. I will travel bi-weekly to Whole Foods, and shop the local organic farmers' market. I vow that NO amount of begging, pleading, whining or shouting will coerce the purchase of processed foods to enter this kitchen (before 2012 when the world is going to end anyway). I recognize the additional labor required to accomplish this (as the sole household cook) and undertake it with informed consent. This constitutes the full intent of my pledge, although I remain free to add other better choices as the year goes along. It is so done, so sayeth the Mom.

[p.s. Note to self - adjust Christmas list to include bread maker.]

 

The Road Not Taken

All I wanted to be when I grew up was a marine biologist. I could think of nothing greater than a life on the ocean, surrounded by sun and salt air, studying the life within it. But then on a middle school field trip, I got up the nerve to ask the lovely female trainer at Sea World how much they make. She was a very attractive woman, risking her life several times a day performing with killer whales. I was shocked by her answer, so much so that I began to doubt all the goals in my young life.

I was a great student. School came almost too easily for me, and I still crave some form of constant learning. I poured myself into books for days on end. I imagined the lives of these characters improved by my own hand, mentally rewriting chapters and endings as I went along. Perhaps literary fiction was my fate. Two college English courses later, I was again without a definable goal. My first declared major was education, but the calling was faint and distant. I might have made a good college professor, but I lacked the drive to work my way up to that position with years spent in public schools.  

In a brazen move, I joined the Army to see the world at seventeen. I dreamed of traveling the seven continents, gathering amazing stories and experiences along the way. The Army's needs were somewhat more practical, sending me a mere 500 miles from home for most of my three year enlistment. Disillusioned would be the most accurate description for my remaining teen years. And before I knew it, my time was up and my future was once again in my own hands.




I had always been drawn to the Arts, a crafty and creative side inherited from my grandmother. Although starving artist was not a fantastic option, there were fringe careers within the Arts that held appeal. My first choice was interior decorator. What could be better than shopping with other people's money for a living? But it turned out that years of specialized schooling were required, along with a mastery of salesmanship (that I certainly lacked at twenty) in order to be successful. And I vastly preferred to work without supervision, seeing little joy in needing the constant approval and feedback of the clients. Instead, I took a string of jobs in retail.

Fast forward a few decades. Thousands of borrowed educational dollars and two degrees later, here I am. Self-employed and approaching middle age. Running two small businesses that sell products and services, require creativity, constant feedback and buyer approval. I admit that I have no idea how I got here. The career path has been dark, muddy, and heavily wooded most of the time. More than once, it has circled back on itself and dead-ended at cliffs without golden parachutes.

I learned a few things about myself along the way. First, I am a lousy employee, albeit in deceptive packaging. I am smart, moderately attractive, reasonably well-educated and well-spoken, and a quick learner. I go into most jobs seeing flaws to be fixed and company ways to be improved. I admit to being something of a know-it-all, at least in my own mind. I can count on one hand the number of supervisors I've had that I believed were smarter than me.

Second, I'm not really a fan of criticism from others. I recognize that I am deeply flawed, a chronic procrastinator and have ADD. I also hate mornings - except when I am on vacation. Which leads me to believe that it's not the hour of the day, but more the requirement to watch a clock and meet the needs of countless others in my pre-coffee, semi-wakeful state. As an employee, I'm not really productive until after lunch.

Other life choices forced me to be an ambitious, responsible wage earner, and to seek out the traditional work week. I've tried very hard to shoe-horn my stubborn, willful, sometimes reckless self into respectable suits. The results range from comical to sadly misguided to outright train wrecks. To those bosses, I owe a heartfelt apology, though they aren't likely to take my calls just yet.

Looking back, I suspect I would have made a great actress. These "roles" I took on over the years were quite convincing for about twelve to eighteen months each. Shortly after that, however, the roles would become a burden and lose their appeal to me. And at that point, I just stopped trying to impress people. I grew jaded and cynical, seeing the inevitable disparities in every work situation as unbearable, and would promptly thereafter move on to the next. Sometimes these were good, upward moves. But mostly they were bizarre, unpredictable jags into the unknown, for no apparent reason other than I hadn't tried that yet.

Self-examination can be a scary thing. You may learn things about yourself that you both didn't want to know and yet aren't willing to change. For some of us, the nouns of our childhood have been magically reconnected by social media. The places, people and things that made me who I am today, and I had marginally forgotten them along the way. For me, this led to an "AHA" moment as Oprah likes to put it. If being near the ocean is what calms me and brings me peace in my toughest times, why don't I live near one? If writing is not only cathartic but an actual passion, why haven't I tried that role yet? If traveling makes me happier than the sense of security from owning my own home, why do I barely leave the house?   


In these turbulent years of unsteady economies, with looming disasters at every turn, I remain immensely and profoundly grateful. For the paths that have brought me here, exactly where I am, at this exact moment in my life. For the family that has been simultaneously a blessing, a burden and a curse. For the many bosses who tolerated me (for twelve to eighteen months). For the most wonderful circle of friends, whom I can never adequately repay, for preserving what little sanity I have left. But above them all, weaving and intertwining these in the most amazing way, I am grateful to God. And to Facebook, His most delightful gift thus far.

So now that you've gotten to know me, I pledge that future blogs will be lighter, shorter and hopefully, funnier. There will be serious topics. I may occasionally rant. I write around the clock, so there will be silliness and fluff too. I welcome your comments, and yes, even your feedback and approval. If you suddenly decide that we are soul mates and should run away together to Bali, I ask that you refrain from posting until you've bought the tickets and booked the hotel rooms. My journey has begun. I hope that you'll join me...