Grouchy Mom

Where have all the manners gone?

    Brace yourselves, folks, I'm hauling out the soapbox today.  The topic at hand?  Good manners, or the lack thereof in today's society.  This one's been simmering for a while and I finally had to let it out.

    Yesterday I went to the grocery store.  That in itself is a depressing activity these days, when I feel as though I start bleeding money the moment I walk through the doors.  What makes it worse, though, is the overwhelming lack of good manners.  What happened to simple phrases like "excuse me", "thank you", or "I beg your pardon"?   I'm beginning to dread going shopping, simply because I'm tired of being treated as though I'm invisible.  People cut me off, walk between me and whatever I'm looking at/reaching for, bump into me, you name it...and never an "excuse me" do I hear. 

    Please understand that I am not a fan of excessive formality.  However, a little common courtesy is rather like oil on the gears of society - it keeps things running smoothly and comfortably for all involved.   How many times have you walked out of a store or event feeling frustrated by others' rudeness?  I'd bet it happens far too often.  And let's face it, folks, there is no reason for it. 

    My father, in particular, was a stickler for good manners and respectful attitudes.  "Please", "thank you", "excuse me", and "May I..." were programmed into Melinda and I from the beginning, as well as respect for others and their belongings and beliefs.  Jon and I have tried very hard to continue that teaching with our kids.  When one of my children says "Excuse me, sir"  or "Can I help you with that?" to an older person, and the individual looks at them in astonishment, I'm saddened to realize that a  polite youngster is an oddity in our society. 

    I would propose that we all take a little more care with how we treat others, and teach our children to do the same.  It's one of the easiest things we can do to help make our world a nicer place to live.  Don't let courtesy go the way of the dodo, or the "dodos" will take over the world - and who wants that? 

Just grumbling

    This has been a kind of strange week for me.  Last weekend's busy-ness left me pretty tuckered out come Monday morning, not to mention that I woke up with a loverly migraine to start my week.  Fairly early Monday I also got a call from a friend asking if I could watch her two girls for the day - not a big deal because they're great kids, but still two extra bodies to think about.  Tuesday we spent most of the day visiting with some good friends who are going to move to Mexico next month.  Wednesday - okay, this is bad - I don't remember Wednesday.  I really don't.  I think it rained, but other than the whole day is just a blur. 

    Thursday was a bit more productive - got some things done around the house, ran a few errands, found the bottom of my kitchen sink - pretty good day.  My poor hubby had to drive over 500 miles that day, though - he left home at 4:30 a.m. and got home at 10:15 p.m.  All for work, too, no fun involved.  Then Friday we got up and darling daughter said that her throat hurt and she was coughing during the night.  I thought she felt a little warm, so we called the doctor and got an appointment.  Everything was moving along right on schedule until I backed my van out of the garage and realized it was leaking gas.  No, wait, it was spraying gas.  Quite extravagantly at that.  Okay, not driving that to town, grab the keys to the back-up car and take off.  (Please note that the back-up car is the one Luke - ah - forcefully introduced to a tree a few weeks ago, so the driver's door doesn't work.  I had to crawl in from the passenger side.  SO very dignified.) 

    We got to the doctor's office and waited for what seemed a very long time, but finally walked out with the information that my girl has strep throat (ugh) and possibly mono (double ugh).  She's on antibiotics for the strep and we'll have results from the blood work on Monday or Tuesday.   Once we got home I drugged her up good on Zithromax and ibuprofen and started supper.  About 6:00 p.m. we'd all eaten and I walked into my bedroom for *something* (God only knows what) and was struck by the realization that Seth was supposed to be at one of his buddies' birthday party - at 5:30!!  Aaargh!!  Flew to the phone and called the family, then hopped back in the car and ran him to his buddy's house for a few hours.  Went back to pick him up in a whopper of a thunderstorm, got home and crashed into bed.

    This morning I slept until 10 a.m. (gasp!) and still felt like roadkill when I dragged myself out of bed.  Stumbled around for a couple hours, went back to bed for a couple more, and now I'm sitting here moaning and groaning to the computer.  I now have a sore throat and a general feeling of blechiness, as does eldest child.  Darling daughter sounds like a cat with a horrible hairball.  Youngest child has poison ivy all over the left side of his face.  So far husband is just tired, but that could change at any moment.  He did fix the van (for just $17!!) but wow, what a week.  Is it Monday yet?

......oh my gosh, did I actually say that?  The fever must be starting....

Another grown-up thing

    This past weekend I taught my first-ever beadmaking class!  My buddy Danielle at Glasslink offered me the chance to teach a class on hollow beads, and on Saturday I took the plunge.  Thankfully it was a very small class - only two students - or I would've been a lot more nervous.  It seemed to go pretty well, I think...at least neither one of them asked for their money back while I was still there!  Both students were very new to lampworking and I was a little concerned that they'd find the class more frustrating than helpful.  However, by the end of the session each of them had turned out a respectable hollow bead and seemed to understand the basic concept.   All in all, I think it went pretty well! 

    It was interesting for me to be the teacher.  I've been lampworking for several years now, and there are a lot of things that I don't really think about any more, I just do them.  How to apply the glass, where to position the glass and the bead in the torch flame, keeping the already-applied glass warm without melting it off the mandrel...almost reflexive for me now, but not so much for beginners.  I found myself coaching them about more than just hollows, but I don't think it bothered them. 

    Teaching this class actually taught me a couple things.  First, I really enjoyed working with these folks!  It was a lot of fun to help them realize that they could do something they weren't so sure they could do.  Second, I found that I don't have to be "perfect" at a technique to teach it to someone else.  I make a decent hollow bead, but some of them are still kind of wonky from time to time.   Still, like I said, both students turned out perfectly respectable beads by the end of class, which tells me that I was able to convey the concept in a way they could understand and apply.  I was pretty pleased with that. 

    So that's the story of my weekend.  Now to get some more beads listen in the ol' Etsy shop....sigh.  Pictures again.  Blech. 

My girl

    Yesterday my daughter celebrated her 15th birthday.  Hubby took a vacation day and we spent the day as a family, opening her presents, going to a movie and just hanging out.  She seemed to enjoy it, but all day I had the strangest feeling that she was growing up right before my eyes.  Every time I looked at her she seemed older, more mature, more poised - less like a little girl.  And I don't know if I'm ready for that.

    Faith is not what many would consider your "typical" teenage girl.  She despises make-up, refuses to even consider having her ears pierced, prefers her clothing to be plain and slightly baggy rather than stylish and fitted, and looks at boys as being rather less interesting than the frogs in our pond.  Crowds annoy her, and she'd much rather go to the bookstore or the animal shelter than the mall.  Don't think for a minute that she's not feminine, though.  It's just that Faith knows who she is and what she wants, and she doesn't feel the need to follow the crowd, which makes us very proud. 

    I'd like to show you a picture of my darlin' girl, but she's a bit camera-shy.  I will tell you that she is a beautiful  young woman with strength, common sense and great moral courage.  She also has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that frequently catches people off guard.  She's responsible, loving, generous and kind - and I think she's pretty wonderful.  Happy birthday, Faith.  You rock!  :-)

I did it!

    Well, folks, I finally took the leap:  I opened my Etsy store!   My store is called Vocare Beads, and I have a handful of beads listed, with more to come.  I've been amazed at how long it's taken me to get to this point.   It doesn't seem as though (buy beads) it should be that difficult, but apparently I'm just a slow mover.  Actually, my biggest hang-up has been taking pictures  (didn't I whine about that in my last post?).  However, I did finally get some decent shots.  This process was helped by my sister's reminder (buy beads)  that her husband is, in fact, a camera guru; how could I have forgotten?  Mark gave me some helpful hints, and all I have to do is cut him a percentage of the profits.  (Kidding, Mark!) 

    Now all I have to do is wait for someone to throw money at me in return for my bee-yoo-tee-full beads!  No problem, right?  Riiiight.  This is where I start driving myself crazy (buy beads) by imagining all sorts of negative stuff.   You know, things like "nobody's going to buy my beads", "all the other lampworkers are laughing at my work", and worst of all - "my friends have been lying to me for years and my beads are really crap!"  Sigh.  Um, yeah, I do have serious (buy beads) attachment issues with my beads, why do you ask?   Seriously, I've said it before -  it's tough to put something out there that is so much a part of yourself and assign it a dollar value.  Oh well, I guess I'll have to consider it a growth experience, eh? 

    Oh, and by the way - buy beads!  :-) 

Like a spelling test

    In an effort to begin seeing some income from my beads, I set up an Etsy store.  I actually did this a couple months ago, but so far I haven't made a penny.  Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that I haven't listed any beads yet!!  And why is that, you ask?  It all goes back to the camera. 

    See, I have a ridiculous number of beads in "inventory" (well, ridiculous to me, anyway).   So I began sorting through them to pull out the ones I thought had the best odds of selling.  Now this in itself is somewhat frustrating, because beads that I thought were pretty good when I made them now look a little...off.  Wonky.  Not all that great.  This process reduced my inventory by about 50%, and my self-confidence by about 25%.  The ones I'd picked out still looked good, though, so I set about taking pictures.

    Taking pictures of beads isn't like taking pictures of your kids, or your dog, or that really pretty rainbow you see in the sky.   First of all, beads are generally round (or at least roundish) which means they don't sit still very well.  Granted, your kids and your dog probably don't either, but at least you can threaten them with something if they wiggle.  Beads don't care.  If a bead wants to roll away, it will.  This makes photography much trickier.  

    Second, beads are shiny.  Shiny is good, right?  People like shiny.  Problem is, shiny beads tend to have shiny reflections on them when you take their picture, and that lovely little strip of glare is NOT good, especially when it's obscuring a particularly nice bit of detailing that you really want a potential buyer to see and lust after.   However, you still want the bead to be well-lit, so that all the lovely colors show up.  This causes difficulties also. 

    The most frustrating problem I have with photographing my beads, though, is what I call the "spelling test phenomenon".  If you've ever graded spelling tests or anything similar, it is very common to find yourself thinking "that looks wrong, but I know it's right" after several repeats of a given word.  I used to help my mom grade papers and we would laugh about the fact that seeing something over and over tends to actually blur your perception of it; that after a while, you can't really trust your eyes, because they're bored and don't want to see what's really there, so everything looks wrong.  I'm experiencing that with my beads.  I've looked at them so much lately that now they all look wonky.  I'll pick up a bead I absolutely love and think "Who would buy this piece of junk?  I should just sell all my equipment right now!", throw it down in frustration and walk away.  Clearly this does not help me get my beads photographed and listed on Etsy! 

    Maybe I need to just step away from the beads for a day, find something else to focus on.  I know, I'll work with the kids on their spelling!  There, their, they're....pear, pare, pair....would, should, could...wait, does that look wrong to you?

Wasn't yesterday Monday?

       Seriously, I was pretty sure when I woke up this morning that today was Tuesday.  Not Monday.  But then the day began rolling along, and now I'm not so sure, 'cause it's sure as heck felt like a Monday!

        The cats woke us up fighting on the deck outside our bedroom window at O-dark-thirty this morning.  The puppy discovered a new, high-pitched and extremely annoying noise he can produce, and decided he needed to practice it.  A lot.  Every time I tried to talk to someone on the phone, I was interrupted.   Jon went to the doctor for his yearly physical and was informed that he may have bursitis in his left shoulder. (We are too young for such things...aren't we?)  Oldest son has "lost" his algebra book and has no idea whatsoever where it could be.  I decided to take pictures of my bead stash so I can get them listed on Etsy, and the camera died after about five beads.  Seth has a snotty head cold and is "too sick" to do anything productive, but not too sick to want to have FUN.  And I'm still fat. 

        See?  This is definitely Monday material.  I think the calendar is playing games with me.  Somehow somebody snuck in an extra Monday, and I am not happy about it.  Do we ever get an extra Saturday?  NOOoooooo, of course not!  But hey, let's throw some Monday at 'em and see what they do.  Isn't this fun?  Isn't this amusing?  Look at how purple her face gets when she's mad!  OOoh, that can't be good for the ol' blood pressure! 

        Okay, so I know it's really Tuesday, but good grief!  It's not the big things that drive you crazy, it's the little piddly stuff that just keeps proliferating no matter what you do that wears you down.   I wonder why that is?  Maybe because you can't get away from it.  At any rate, today it's grating on my last nerve, and I want it to STOP.  I'd go out and try to make beads, but I'm almost afraid.  My luck I'd stick my finger in the torch flame or get a piece of hot glass down my shirt or something equally unpleasant, and I'm just not up for that today.  Maybe I'll just sit here and surf the Web for a bit....on my (slowly dying) laptop.  Sigh.

        Please tell me tomorrow is Wednesday?

         

I just knew it

    I've said before that I am not a particularly active or athletic person. In school I was always one of the last ones picked for any sort of game, and I was fine with that.  Playing a sport usually meant getting hit with something hard or else falling on my face.  I'm a lousy runner, my hand-eye coordination is poor, and I can't throw worth beans.  So you can see why I've always avoided sports, especially team sports.  As far as I'm concerned, they're just an opportunity to embarrass myself in front of a large group of people. 

    Last night we went to our church team's first softball game of the season.  Jon and Luke signed up to play, so I felt that as a good wife and mom I should be there to cheer them on.   Besides, I don't mind watching - spectators are usually safe - and there are always other people there to chat with during the game. 

    The church league plays seven-inning games, doubleheaders, and it was fairly chilly, so I figured I'd probably head home after the first game.    I was sitting in my camp chair, visiting with a friend,  when I saw one of our players twist his ankle and almost go down.  He managed to stay on his feet - barely - but quickly left the game to sit with ice on his ankle for a while, and he finally left.   However, within the next inning or two of John's injury, one of our girls went down and went down hard.  Joanna took a ball to the foot that knocked her off balance, and when she fell she badly twisted her knee.   She had to be carried off the field and spent the rest of the time lying on the side with ice on her knee and ankle, and half a dozen jackets and blankets piled on her.  (She should have gone home but she was really ticked she couldn't play and insisted on watching until it was over.)  A couple other players were either hit or twisted an ankle through the course of the evening, although John and Joanna were the only serious injuries.  And after all that pain, we lost both games.

    Now, you may wonder why I'm telling you all this, so here's the point: sports are dangerous.  I mean, how much safer can you get than a church softball league?  And yet two people went down over nothing more important than a round ball and a big stick.  It's not worth it, people.   If I'm going to exercise, it is NOT going to involve flying balls or swinging bats or anything else that can hit me, trip me, or otherwise cause me harm.  My own body gets me in enough trouble, thank you very much, I don't need any help.  I always knew being athletic would get you in trouble, and now I have proof.  Me, I sat on the sidelines and walked away perfectly intact.  Score one for the couch potatoes!

Here I go!

    I am pleased to announce that the new regime has met with very little resistance, and that was quickly silenced by a look at the scale.  Changes are being implemented, goals are being set, and accountability is being established.  I even have an exercise ball! 

    Humor aside, I am taking this very seriously.  This is tough for me; even as a kid I wasn't someone who enjoyed a lot of physical activity, so exercise isn't high on my list of "things I want to do today".  (My mom used to send me outside in the summer and lock the door so I'd play instead of reading in my room all day.  My solution to that was to sneak a book out under my shirt and go sit behind the garage where she couldn't see me.)   I cannot even begin to understand how people find exercise "fun".  To me, those two words don't even belong in the same sentence.  So I'm trying to find ways to move my carcass that don't make me think "Exercise!  NOOOOOOoooooo!"   One simple thing I've been doing is to walk whenever I'm on the phone, even if I just pace back and forth between the kitchen and living room.  I really did get a balance ball, and I roll around on it (when I can snatch it away from my kids).  Really I'm just trying to move more, however I can work it in. 

    As far as diet....well, that's a tough one too.  I like food.  I like food a lot.  And unfortunately, most of my favorite foods are things that don't exactly qualify as "healthy eating".  Things like fettucine alfredo, cheesecake, baked mac & cheese, Grandma's oatmeal cake....oh gosh that sounds soooooooo good right now....argh!  You see?  One thing I have figured out about myself is that I eat when I'm bored.  Nothing particular to do?  Hey, let's cram something down the ol' gullet!  Watching tv in the evening?  Can't do it without a snack, it's unAmerican!   It has nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with laziness.  Instead of finding something productive to do, I shove food down my throat.   So now, if I find myself unoccupied, I grab some knitting, or clean something, or work with my beads - anything that keeps my hands busy and full of something that's not food.  I'm also trying to get more water down, although I have to confess that most of my water intake is coffee- or tea-flavored.  (Hey, it's still a liquid!)  But I'll drink a cup of my favorite herbal tea in the evening instead of mowing down a huge bowl of ice cream, or half a box of Cheez-Its.  And I'm trying to get more fruits and veggies in, and fewer carbs.  (sniffle..)

    So that's how I'm starting out.  Hopefully little changes will add up over time to make a big difference.  I did notice this morning that I'm about a pound lighter already, which was encouraging.  I don't just want to be thinner to look better, though, I want to feel better and be healthier.  I'd really like to be able to chase my grandkids around some day, you know?  

    

I don't like this

    This past week has been an interesting one, to say the least.  (I use the word "interesting" very loosely, by the way.)  It was very definitely a "Murphy's Law" sort of time, and I have to tell you, I do not like it.  Not at all.  Apart from all the usual mishaps that come with daily living, I had an overabundance of migraines; my mom was in the hospital for a few day, which always freaks me out; and Sunday night a very dear friend of ours had a stroke.  Tim is 45 and has always been very healthy, so this was a complete shock.  He's doing well - thankfully it was a mild one - but there's no such thing as a "good" stroke.  Now the doctors are trying to determine what brought this on and how to prevent it happening again.

    Now, I am not normally a person who obsesses about her age.  I'm 43, that's how many years I've been breathing, and there's not much I can do about that, is there?  But Tim's stroke scared me.  First of all, obviously, for Tim - this guy is the brother of my heart, he's been part of our lives for a very long time.  The thought of something happening to him just makes me sick.  The realization that if it could happen to him, it could happen to us - that's scary too.  I've been thinking about strokes and such as something that I didn't have to worry about for a few more years, you know?   I mean, we're not young anymore, but we're not really old either.  Right?  But this is making me think differently...and again, I don't like it much.

    The biggest thing that hit me is that if Tim, who is a healthy, active person, could have a stroke, then what am I at risk for as an overweight, inactive woman?  Yeah, it's not a pretty thought.  This may be the motivation I needed to really make some changes in my lifestyle.  Pants that are a little snug around the waist weren't enough to do it, but the thought of a stroke or heart attack is definitely a kick in the rear.   Plus, I recently read an article citing research that suggests belly fat can be a trigger for migraines in women ages 20-55.  You mean losing some of my tummy could help cut  out those hellacious headaches?  I am SO there!

    The final straw came yesterday morning.  Our new puppy, Zeke, has conquered going up the stairs, but he still can't go down very well, so he frequently gets carried down (I know, I know, but there's only so much time in a day and I can't spend it all watching him squirm down 15 steps!).  I had just carried him down and thought "Wow, it's amazing how much of a difference carrying his 22 or 23 pounds makes while going up and down the steps."  Then it hit me.  With the extra weight I'm carrying (and it's been here a long time, folks...a looooong time) it's like I've been asking my body to carry two Zekes around everywhere I go.  No wonder my legs and back hurt!  That image really shocked me.  Vague things like "Oh, losing weight will help your __________" don't go very far with me, but the idea of carrying around two hefty puppies 24/7?  Ouch!  Put 'em down! 

    So I am embarking on a quest - a quest to find my lost waistline.  It's going to be tough, I know; exercise and healthy eating and all that stuff just doesn't thrill me, to be honest.  But it's got to be done, and now I really see why.