My internal clock.

Why o' why sleep gods? Why do I find it so extremely difficult to get up Monday-Friday when my alarm goes off at 6:15 am. Then, when Saturday rolls around and I could sleep until 8 am....I'm wide awake and stewing at 6:00. It. Does. Not. Make. Sense.

The Sixties, Eighties...

It's happened. I've become officially old.

This summer Kate and I had a fun time playing on the "Mad Men Yourself" website, where you could choose a variety of styles from the 60's.

Here's our conversation from yesterday:

Kate: Mom, can you show me how to go on that 80's website?
Me: What 80's website are you talking about?
Kate: You know....the one where you can choose hairstyles and clothing. Remember how we made a bunch of styles?
Me: 80's?? That's not the 80's, that's the 60's.
Kate: The 60's, 80's, whatever...it's just old.

UGH! The 60's and the 80's are not the same. I grew up in the 80's and wasn't alive in the 60's. The 80's were filled with Madonna, zipper Guess jeans, The Limited, big bangs, and Rob Lowe.

How could she possibly confuse the two?

Cue the locust....

Last night I was sharing an episode of This American Life with Brian. I had listened to it earlier in the day and couldn't get the story out of my mind. It was about a church in Dallas that puts on a Haunted House every Halloween. Except instead of goblins and chainsaw killers, it's filled with "horror" rooms of teenage actors.... girls having abortions, gay teens dying of AIDS, a Columbine-like school shooting, etc. Truly sick in my opinion. And what is even sicker is the fact it's sponsored by the church and that THOUSANDS of people attend each year. You can learn more about it here: www.thisamericanlife.org Click on the link called "Devil on my shoulder". There was also a documentary made about the haunted house. You can find more info at hellhousemovie.com
After listening again to the episode I was thinking "What does God think of this? Is He as appalled as me?" Just then the brightest bolt of lightening lit up the sky followed by a clap of thunder that shook the house. Was God agreeing with me? Or disagreeing? And just when I thought it couldn't get any more Old Testament like, the roof was pelted by what sounded like locust, but turned out to be gum-ball sized hail.

We raced outside to watch the hail show. I half expected to see Charles Heston standing in our driveway, holding up rock tablets. That would have been very fitting. Or a burning bush.

Peace out.

We went costume shopping yesterday. We headed into a temporary Halloween store that was filthy, dimly lit and pricey. Kate found a hippy costume for the low low price of $39.99. It consisted of a thin polyester dress and a head band. That's it. Probably cost less than one dollar to make. Not only was it hideous, but I could not bring myself to pay for it. In tears, I drug Kate into the new Goodwill shop that just opened and we found a much cuter dress that is nicely made from thick material and a low price of $7.97.

As we were driving home Kate said, "This Goodwill dress is much nicer and plus the money goes to people who need help. " Cue Hallelujah Chorus. Plus, I told her, it's very hippy to wear used clothing, not plastic, "made-in-China" clothing. She's a much more authentic hippy.

Have a Smiley Face Day!

Sweet Dreams.

This morning Brock recalled a dream he had last night. He dreamt that the four of us were on top of the Space Needle and that something scary was about to happen. Just then my (deceased) mom showed up and made everything okay. Brock couldn't remember the details, but he said we were all happy to see her. From then on, we were to meet her everyday between 2-3 and she would visit us from heaven.

My first reaction was to be envious of Brock. In the 30 years since my mom has died, I can only recall one or two dreams. And I barely recall them. I just have feelings about them but remember nothing specific.

But how cool for Brock? Regardless of what or how you believe, he had a cool dream that left an impact on him and made him happy and put joy in his heart. He felt empowered, protected and loved.

'tis the season of flu....

We were at a party last night and this cracked me up. Subtle, eh? Although I did use a squirt, I had to ask, is this a glimpse of our future?

Fresh and clean pearly whites.

I just returned from the dentist. The older I have gotten, the more I dread going to the dentist. I am lucky that I haven't had any teeth or gum problems....but I still get nervous while reclining in the chair. You'd think that with all of the technological advances in the dental industry that they would find a replacement for the gnarly pick hook thing that scrapes your teeth. The sound and feeling of it cleaning my teeth makes me want to jump out of the chair and say "You can keep your free toothbrush, I'm outta here."

Plus, it doesn't help that I hadn't flossed much since the last dentist appointment. I can actually tell you how often I've flossed. Once. This morning right before the appointment. Do you think they can tell?

Out of my control.

I am a planner and efficient person. I try to make the most out of my time and try to not waste. For example, if I'm walking up the stairs, I carry up the laundry, so to not waste a trip. I beat myself up if I am inefficient.

It has been raining a lot lately and the dogs hadn't been walked in two days. Late this morning, the clouds parted and the sun came out. I decided it was now or never for a walk and grabbed the leashes and we were on our way.

About half way through our walk, the sun went away and the mist began. The mist quickly turned into giant rain drops, the kind that bounce off the pavement. Streams were pouring down the hills. This wasn't what I had planned. My initial reaction was to be grumpy about more rain. I realized though it was OUT OF MY CONTROL. This was something I couldn't manipulate. I had to deal. My change of attitude made me feel a freedom that I hadn't felt in awhile. I was free to put my head up and catch rain drops on my tongue. I was free to take my time. The dogs and I were getting soaked and I didn't care. I was having fun and enjoying the refreshing shower that I hadn't planned.

By the time I made it home, my jeans had acted like a sponge and weighed 10 pounds from all of the water. The dogs were filthy. It was now time for me to start to control. I dried the dogs off and put them into their crates....if it was left to them, they would have dried off on the couch. I changed my clothes and put the wet ones in the dryer. I was back to the efficient Erin. The efficient Erin who had tasted a bit of impulsivity and liked it.


(a wet dog that wishes to dry off on the couch)

Isn't it ironic?

So, I'm trying to turn over a new leaf regarding our finances. I heard about this book and instead of buying it, I checked it out from the library. Then it was due and I couldn't renew it because someone else had a hold on it. I ended up turning it in late, owing over due fees and then decided to buy it. So, it actually cost me more than if I would have bought it in the first place.

I obviously need some help.

Time to break out the Aretha.

Two postings ago, I lamented on the lack of respect of my children's generation. Tonight I let them both have a sleep-over (because, yes, once again, they don't have school tomorrow), and their combined lack of respect is turning me into a mean mom. You know the kind. The kind of mom that the kids apologize for, once she leaves the room. The "non-fun" mom. The mom where no one wants to hang out at your house kind of mom.

Each pair of kids separately asked me if they could walk to the near by store to buy snacks. Being that it was practically dark out, my response was, "Sorry, not tonight. Some other time during the day you all can. We have plenty of good snacks here." Each of my children negotiated with me and pleaded. Then their friends chimed in, saying that they have their own money, or they could bring a flashlight, etc. What? Maybe I spoke too fast. Let me slow down and speak up....I said NO!

And the thing is, it's not like any of these four kids are bad kids. In fact, they are really nice, fun kids who just happen to not have that respect gene. Growing up, if Dr. Zucker told me and Fran "No," I didn't sit her down and lay out a list of reasons why she should let us. We dealt with our disappointment and moved on...no hounding, no bartering.

Do you think it would help if I blared some "R-E-S-P-E-C-T"? Probably not. They would roll their eyes and tell (not ask) me to change the song.

Passion.

Every game. Every minute. He plays with such passion and heart that it's amazing to watch. Even when he is supposed to be resting on the bench, he can't help himself. Every cell of his body is fully engaged in the game.

Child Rearing in the 2000's

I can't pinpoint the exact moment that child rearing changed from when I was growing up but somewhere along the line parents crossed over to being seen as "friends" and perhaps even "equals". Growing up, if I was bored, I would never have thought to have my parents play with me. Now, my kids look at Brian and me as entertainment. On one hand, my relationship with my kids is fantastic. We are really close and they share a lot with me....on the other hand, we are lacking the "afraid of you" aspect. I don't want my kids to be afraid of me, but I do want them to realize what I say goes. Period. NO ARGUING. NO DEBATING. NO NEGOTIATING.

Not only do my kids do all three bold verbs above, but their friends do it as well. The other day Brock called and wanted to spend the night at a friend's house. I told him that it wouldn't work out because we had plans, he could do it some other time, yadda yadda. He hung up and a few minutes later called back. Except this time it was his friend on the phone trying to convince me to let Brock stay over. What?? Sorry buddy. That is crossing the line.

Maybe to start laying down the law I should insist on being called "Mrs". Maybe that's the problem. Kids these days are too familiar with us.

Either that or I'll have to whip out the hairbrush.