Vacation

So, technically, this isn't our vacation...

But for me, it's a break from the day to day activities of my life. That includes crying children. If a baby or child fusses or cries, it's not my problem (beyond the grand principle that ultimately we are all responsible for one another, but hey, I'm not preaching that philosophy right now). I can choose to walk away knowing other responsible adults are going to take care of it.

And thank the Lord, for that fact!

I was just at the hotel pool, lounging in the sun (I know. Cancer!) and reading a magazine. For fun. Not so I could figure out what to cook for supper.

And just as I was getting drowsy and thinking of closing my eyes for a few minutes...Whaaaaa! Mom! Whaaaa-whaaaa-whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! And then, chaos, as half-a-dozen siblings surround the screamer and mom runs over to see what's wrong.

That's the point at which I gathered up my DC, bottle of water, towel, and Time magazine and came inside.

Not my screamer, not my problem.

Behind the Wall of Sleep

I have slept more soundly in the last 48 hours than I have in months. Even last weekend in NY I couldn't sleep because I was worried about being late for things and it was loud and the hotel room was tiny which kind of stressed me out.

Here, in the capacious and stylishly adorned Chapel HIll hotel, I can spread out, relax, and sleep like a log. And I have.

Still, on Friday morning, I was awake at 5 a.m., worried that Brendan would be late for the Student of the Month breakfast at his school. He's been anxious about it all week and I absorbed his anxiety. After going back to sleep for an hour and a half, I awoke at 7:30 and unable to stop myself I called home to make sure they were out the door.

My darling mother-in-law told me they were at school at 7:19 a.m. She had both boys up and dressed and out the door, lunch packed, even remembering to take the whole watermelon she had cut up on Thursday morning before we left. The watermelon was our contribution to the end of year luau which also took place yesterday.

All is well at home. MeMe and the boys are having fun.

I guess I'll just go back to sleep for a while.

On the Road Again

After a whirlwind trip to New York last weekend, now we're in Durham, North Carolina. Scott's playing a show tomorrow night at Broad Street Cafe.

If you happen to be in the area, come on out at 8 p.m. and take a listen. I promise you'll have a great time!

Like a Virgin

Well, after several months of not blogging, not writing very much of anything that wasn't a marketing brochure or magazine article, I'm back.

Not sure if anyone gives a damn. But I'm back. I want to write for me, about things I care about and I've decided to commit to it.

I've been thinking about it for a while now, missing this part of who I am. This past weekend Scott (my husband, if you're just joining us.) and I were in NYC for a friend's wedding and I had the chance to see several dear friends that I rarely see or talk with anymore. Two of them asked about my blog, and one, Chris, had some really great feedback for me on my writing. I chose to take those interactions as signs that I need to be writing this blog and that I need to focus on the issues of parenting and married life and my passions that are truly near and dear to my heart.

So, now, it's off to a meeting for Kindergarten parents about the Cub Scouts.

See you tomorrow. I promise.

Changes

I am so sad to look at my followers and see that the number has fallen from eight to four since the last time I posted.

I loved...love this blog. It was so much a part of me and my life and I feel like a neglectful parent to have let it fall into sorrowful disrepair and desuetude.

I fell into the trap of knowing that certain persons were reading my blog and that things I said were occasionally hurtful to them. If I'm too negative, I feel like I'm not being thankful enough for all I've been given. If I'm too happy, I felt I wasn't being sensitive enough to their feelings. I couldn't fucking win. I want to be able just to be me. Happy. Sad. Mad. Whatever. Just Dawn without having to make excuses for how I feel or what I say.

I have to decide if I can rebuild this blog and make it meaningful and relevant again. Even if it's just meaningful and relevant to myself.

I miss blogging. I miss the friends I made through blogging.

It only just occurs to me that I've been trying to hide out, not reveal too much. Maybe I just need to get back to the basics of why I started this blog. I wanted to become a resource for other moms who were experiencing the challenges of motherhood. I especially wanted to connect with moms who may not have had the best mothering role models, but were finding ways to be good mothers and also to find mothers who were good mothers and who had good mothers and were willing to share their maternal wisdom with the rest of us.

The last few years have changed me. I do not like who I have become...someone cut off, cold, who wants to avoid emotions at every cost. I've heard myself say more than once that I wish I were a robot. And I do wish life weren't so hard for me at times. But then, I know it's no harder for me than it is for anyone else. I just never learned the right ways of coping. I let things bother me that I should dismiss. I lack patience and the ability to look positively into the future.

I want to change.

So...why can't I?

Muppet Movie - The Rainbow Connection

If you grew up in the '70s and '80s as did I, you probably have a soft spot in your heart for all things Henson. Jim Henson, that is. Whether you learned to count with Count von Count, or couldn't wait for The Muppet Show each week, or you thought the Fraggles had it right in their sheer enthusiasm for living in the moment, or Yoda's wisdom in Star Wars inspired you to seek a path of love and light in your own life, you were touched by Jim Henson and his remarkable creations. And, in some way, you're probably a better person for it. We're all better for having been influenced by his multiple cultural phenomena as children.

For one more week, you can catch a glimpse of Henson's brilliance, peeking behind the scenes at his early work and how it all evolved into the famous and beloved characters we think of as Henson's best. The Atlanta History Center has been hosting a traveling exhibit called Jim Henson's Fantastic World.

If you're at all curious about how the Muppets evolved or if you love learning details like the fact that the characters of Bert and Ernie were actually based on Henson and his long-time collaborator Frank Oz, you will love this exhibit!

We went yesterday for the second time since December to see the exhibit. Scott and I, naturally, got more out of the exhibit than the boys did, but they loved seeing favorite characters like Rolf and Kermit and Bert and Ernie. I got teary-eyed watching video that included Henson's speech when he was inducted into the Television Hall of Fame. It makes me sad to think that his beautiful imagination was silenced when there was so much more joy he could have brought into this world.

Think how much darker and more somber our collective childhood lived out in the shadows of nuclear annihilation, a global oil crisis, and Reaganomics would have been without the vivid and joyful expression of life that existed in shows like The Muppets, Fraggle Rock, and Sesame Street.

I wish there was someone today who was as committed to creating quality entertainment for kids that inspired them to act creatively.

Christmas in Dixie*

One of the things I most look forward to at Christmas is taking drives to view, gawk at, rave on, and rat out all the beautiful, creative, original – and sometimes just plain tacky – Christmas decorations folks put up.

I have often looked especially forward to seeing the decorations in the neighborhood where Scott's mother lives. Her neighborhood is one with a yard-of-the-month award and awards for best Christmas decorations. At Christmas, they award first, second, and third prizes as well as an award for the most creative and most original theme and at least one Honorable Mention.

I remember the first time I went home with Scott for Christmas in 1996, I was awed by the house down the street from his mom's with a Twelve Days of Christmas theme. From a single partridge in a pear tree to twelve drummers drumming, every gift in the song is represented by hand-carved and painted plywood figures. It's one of the most complex and elaborate holiday displays I've ever seen. Twelves years later, though, and it's as stale now as it was clever the first time I laid eyes on it.

There haven't been any new and exciting displays of holiday sentiment in my mother-in-law's neighborhood in the last five or six years. One year, there was a rash of folks putting wooden crosses in their yards at Christmas, but I think it only lasted that one year until folks realized the purpose of Christmas is to celebrate Christ's coming into the world rather than to anticipate his departure. Other than that, Scott's mom has been the only one to exhibit any creativity. That was the year she had 7 ft. tall gilded angels blowing trumpets on either side of her walkway. She crafted them out of chicken-wire and spray painted them gold. They were really gorgeous. Everything else was white lights and gold and burgundy ribbon. Very elegant.

Sadly, there have been few holiday displays the last few years that I found worthy of comment or critique.... Until this year, when the glorious elements of Southern pride, Christmas joy, and football fanaticism united in the stroke of genius and gumption that lead to this awesome display:








What else can I say, except, Roll Tide!

*Props to Scott for giving me this title and taking the pictures out in the rain of this testament to all things Alabama for me.

And the Winner Is....

Utah Savage. She's a new reader and from what I can tell after reading a handful of posts, a passionate and intense writer.

Read her post on the act of kindness given to her here.

She will be receiving a delicious (if you like chocolate and hazelnuts, which I do, very much!) Ferrero Rocher Christmas gift set.

By the way, for the sake of acknowledging how I did this (since I've never done a contest before, I used one of the randomizers at random.org.

Thanks to those of you who participated. I enjoyed reading each of your stories. It always inspires me to see the goodness that is the root of all our humanity.

Giving It Back to You

I'm extending my deadline. Get me those stories, folks! I need a winner! See my previous post if you don't know what I'm talking about.

Give A Little Bit More

Hopefully this holiday season has all of us thinking about how we can help others. You don't have to make a gratitude box or go to great lengths. Here's a quick, easy, and painless way to do something good for our world.

Ferrero Chocolate has teamed with Share Our Strength, a leading hunger relief organization that helps provide food for 12.6 million American children, to raise money to help provide needy families with food this winter. You can help by visiting Share Something Sweet and sending a free e-card to someone you love. For each card sent, Ferrero will donate $1 to Share Our Strength.

What could be easier?

And to reward you for your good deeds, I am going to be giving away a Ferrero Christmas Tree gift box of chocolates.


Everybody say yum! And now, here's how the contest will work:

1. First, write a post on your blog by Thursday, 12/18 at noon, telling about a good deed someone did for you. Tell us how it made you feel and why you'll never forget that particular act of kindness or generosity.

2. In your post, include a link back to this post and a link to the Share Something Sweet site.

3. Leave a comment on this post letting us know that you've written something.

On Thursday afternoon, I will choose a winner at random from those who leave comments here. I can't guarantee that you will receive your candy before Christmas, but it should get in the mail before the holiday.

I can't wait to read your stories!

Give a Little Bit

And yet again, I slink out of the depths of my chaotic life to greet the world anew. Hello, World!

I've been so excited about something that happened in my life last week and I've been meaning to write about it, but until now, hadn't found the time.

I know I've mentioned my Bunco group before.



We're quite the collection of ladies. Some work outside the home. Some work in the home. Liberal. Conservative. Christian. Jewish. Agnostic. Atheist. Silly. Serious. All mothers and to the one, kind, loving, and supportive.

Every December, we have a holiday party that includes a wine tasting. This year, we decided to add a gift-exchange component. We tossed around the white elephant idea, giving each other items of the as-seen on TV variety, and then darling, brilliant Lucy came up with the idea of gratitude boxes. (Lucy, by the way, is a talented graphic designer. Need a new look for your blog? Notecards? A brochure or logo design? Lucy's your girl and I can put you in touch.)

She saw the idea first on Oprah! If you're looking for an inexpensive gift idea for someone you love, you can't beat this one. The way we did it, each woman brought her own box. Some decorated boxes while others of us simply brought wooden, silver, or other beautiful boxes we already had on hand. Then, over the course of the night, we wrote on cards that Lucy printed for us, one thing we loved about one another. Each compliment was awarded anonymously.

There are 16 (or so) women in our group, so the idea (for us) was that at the end of the night, each of us would have 15 compliments in our gratitude box.

It was so nice to come home and sit down and read the notes and see what my friends like about me. I was surprised, but pleased to learn that someone thinks I make parenting look easy. (She obviously doesn't read this blog!) A few people complimented my smile, a feature I'm frequently self-conscious about, while someone else delighted me with her appreciation of my writing.

Such a lovely, perfect gift, a gift of love and gratitude and nurturing. It's so easy to pass someone by and never tell them what we enjoy about them. This is such an easy way to give that gift and really, who can't use it? It's one gift that definitely won't be exchanged or thrown in a closet and forgotten. Although, it's quite likely it might result in re-gifting.

Wha'Cha Say?

What price are you willing to pay for your sanity?

We clearly see that I will go to some lengths for mine... Pouring the intimate details of my life out onto a platter for anyone who wants to pick them apart; taking anti-depressants and, again, pouring that juicy detail out like some rich morsel I feel compelled to share with friends and strangers alike.

Am I willing, however, to continue spending more money at the grocery store? Sadly, I think I might be.

I am addicted to Publix. I love shopping there. I love the crisp clean, moderny goodness of their package design; the brightly lit and clean expanse of store with wide aisles that all go in the same direction with the center aisles flanked by the produce section in one rear corner and meats in the other. I love how the same employees have worked in the store for years and years and know my name and ask how my boys are doing if they're not with me. I love that Publix employees are always smiling and friendly and helpful...to a one, from the store manager to the stock clerks. I love that they double coupons and always offer to have someone help you to your car with your groceries. It is hands down my favorite grocery store for everyday, run of the mill shopping.

Several of my friends have encouraged me to shop at Kroger, telling me how much cheaper it is.

I just have one tiny problem. Kroger makes me crazy.

Every single time I shop in a Kroger store, I am enraged to the point of muttering and tears by the time I leave. No joke.

The stores are dirty, dark, and always crowded. They never have enough check out lanes open. The produce is by the door as soon as you walk in and isn't laid out in any sensible way. Produce is often not labeled with a price and they never have the little plastic bags for produce out near the produce. They have the bags in one central location so you have to either remember to go get your bags (and know how many you need) or walk across the department when you need a bag.

There is never anyone at the deli counter when you need help and if you ask anyone where something is, they point. I guess that's really all under the umbrella of employees who don't give a damn whether you shop in their store or not. And that's really my biggest problem. Poor staffing with employees who seem like they all hate their jobs.

Then there's the issue of bad design which is reflected in numerous ways throughout the store. The store does not flow well and always seems crowded. The aisles are not wide enough or long enough and they have foods and other products grouped in weird ways. Diapers and Candy. Cokes and Pet Supplies. I just hate it. And don't get me started on their package design which looks like something from 1985. Yuck. Purple and blue and red? Really? Blech!

I almost forgot! Kroger is also the only store I've ever seen with aisles running in two different directions. Vertically and horizontally! I hate that. It's not only illogical, it's inconvenient to the shoppers using giant shopping carts with wheels that don't easily turn.

I understand that for most people shopping isn't about an aesthetic experience. I know there must be something wrong with me that it matters so much to me. This is also why I prefer Target to Wal-Mart. I have so much garbage in my head that I don't need it when I'm trying to get things done.

I need a clean and easy experience with few distractions when I'm shopping. Also, since going to the grocery might be my big outing for the week, I'd like to keep it a pleasant experience.

Sadly, though, I'd really like to spend less money on groceries. I have a conundrum.

For the moment though, I think my sanity might win. I'll just have to do my best to reduce my grocery expenditures in the clean happy land of Publix.

What say you? What lengths will you go to in order to promote calm and peace in your life?

Pink Pajamas

'Tis the season of giving and Kelli over at Cafe Kel is getting a head start on the fun! Read about how she fell in love with pajamas and find out how you can win a gift certificate to PajamaGram thanks to Miss Kel.

Think For Yourself

Both of my boys have been sick multiple times the last few weeks. Colds. Croup. Stomach bugs. Sore throats. Coughs. You name it, I think they've had it. So, I decided it might be in my best interest, and theirs, to give them Airborne children's lozenges to try and boost their immunity and ward off a few of these things. Doing so, led to a surprising, but apparently much needed lesson in motivating my children and understanding sibling dynamics.

As anyone who has read my blog for any time knows, I am an only child. Managing the sibling relationship is really an interesting experience for me and sometimes my methods are heavy-handed or clumsy, I think, despite always being well-intentioned.

Beckett, being the younger brother, wants to emulate everything his big brother does. It's easy to motivate him or encourage him to do almost anything I want by suggesting to him that his brother is doing it, eating something I need or want Beckett to eat, or that his brother will be where I want him to go. I forget sometimes that it will not work in the reverse fashion. Telling Brendan to do something because his baby brother is doing it works great if Brendan perceives the opportunity to be in his advantage or if it involves eating something he likes already. It's not as effective if he can't see the value of performing said task, i.e. doing what I want him to do doesn't result in getting a treat or surprise of some sort or failure to perform result in being punished.

I have trouble with this. In my mind, if your sibling is doing it, why wouldn't you want to do it? Don't you feel left out? It's the never-ceasing sense of loss only children experience, I think. Unaccustomed to sharing and frequently alone if not lonely, the only child has difficulty imagining not wanting to be included.

So, when I offered Brendan his Airborne after his brother had taken his and he refused it, my natural response was, Well, your brother took his and he liked it.

Now, I admit, I'm not fond of the Why-can't-you-be-more-like-your-brother implications of such a statement. But seriously? Why can't you be more like your brother and just politely take your damned medicine without a fight?

Brendan's response to me was one that I absolutely could not argue with. And let me tell you, it's no fun being out logicked by a five-year old. Yet, I am proud of him for his thoughtfulness in responding.

He said, Mom, it's not like we have the same brain! We don't always like the same things.

Well, duh.

Thanks for the reminder, you wee independent cuss. I respect your sense of self.

Always and Forever

Holy cow! I can't believe it's been a month since I posted.

Anyway.... I wanted to share something with you that I think is a very worthwhile cause but that also gives you something really beautiful by way of your help.

A local author and illustrator created a beautiful new children's book called Always and Everywhere as a means of helping her friend with metastatic breast cancer explain to her kids what was happening. I'm not sure I've ever seen a more beautifully illustrated book.

All the proceeds from the sale will go to help the family move from their multi-level townhome into a ranch style home since the mom can no longer climb stairs.

If you know anyone suffering from cancer who has younger kids, this might be a beautiful thing to share with them to let them know you care.

Temporary Love

Scott played a couple of shows up in Athens a few weeks ago. For those of y'all who don't know, Athens is the Mecca of indie music in the Southeast. He played two shows that week, one at Flicker, the other at Terrapin Beer Co. Both shows were fantastic. He was backed by Athens band The Cleaners. The amazing guitarist is Mark Wenthe. His brother Mike was in Scott's old band, The Snake Oil Salesmen.

This is video is of his newest song, Temporary Love. Hope you enjoy it.

Hope

As I've mentioned before, Brendan has an uncanny way of mis-hearing or misstating things that cuts closer to the depth and essence of something than the actual word he intended or the word that is actually used.

One word he used to use and that I allowed to some extent because I loved it was rainbrella.

Several times recently, a new one has cropped up. And it's actually so accurate in its heartbreaking truth that I get teary-eyed every time he says it.

Our neighborhood is situated so that there are several different ways to access the various Interstate highways that intersect nearby. And each of those exits, we are seeing an increase in the homeless as they are pushed out of Downtown Atlanta. Brendan has recently begun to notice them and ask questions. So, Scott and I have both had opportunities to talk to him about homelessness and what that means.

What he has heard instead of home-less is Hope-less.

Mommy, he will ask, how did they get hopeless?

And I am left to explain the heartbreak and tragedies of this world while trying to hold out hope as a shiny, never-fading reality to my own child.

When he asks if we will ever be hopeless, I tell him no because we have a wide and extended family and friends who love us and who would help us if something bad ever happened to us. I tell him that this is why family is important and that he and Beckett will always have one another and they should always help and honor and support one another. I tell him nothing is more important than his family.

I tell him, and I pray that it is true, that when you have family and you love one another and treat each other with respect that you will always have a home. And you will always have hope.

The Real Slim Shady

For a lot of folks, I'm sure going to a high school reunion is a chance to relive past glories, an opportunity to be hailed as the football hero or gorgeous and popular homecoming queen. When I attended my 20-year reunion a few weeks ago, I saw the possibility of resolution. For me, it was a chance to lay to rest old insecurities and see myself as an equal to the many people whom I thought of as superior to me because of the distinctions of class and clique that plagued my school. I wasn't some miserable slob that everyone mocked or anything. But I never felt as good as everyone else. I never felt like I belonged. I knew I'd never be on the homecoming court or go to cotillion or do any of the things the rich and popular girls did, but I was a smart kid which gave me some good standing. Everyone knew me and although back then I thought everyone hated me or thought they were better than me, most everyone (with a few notable exceptions) was at the very least polite. Still, I really didn't know what to expect at the reunion. I imagined that everyone would fall back into their same little cliques and that I'd hang out with my closest friends the whole night.

Thank God for Facebook. My friend Daryl created a FB group for alumni of our high school and over the course of several weeks before the reunion, several folks from my class found each other. By virtue of space, time, and goodness of the Internet gods, we were able to connect and soon I found myself interacting with people whom I never imagined I had any common ground.

At the reunion I found myself flattered and surprised by how many people remembered me and talked to me. In fact, I was only a little disappointed that people recognized me. I think I've changed dramatically enough that more people should have been surprised, but that's okay.

I didn't exactly get the resolution I was seeking. I got something both better and slightly more disturbing.

I found out that people liked me and I only wish I'd realized it then instead of wasting my time, energy, and emotions thinking no one did. I've also been surprised by the ways in which people remember me and disappointed in myself for not living up to the expectations I had for myself and for not retaining more of the girl I used to be.

My old friend Tim commented after the reunion that he was glad to see I still had "the same zest for life," that I had back then. It was only when I read those words and thought about how – even though I may have thought I was an outcast and felt unloved, unattractive, and unfinished – I still found a way to live my life with joy and verve. I used to be a totally different person.

When did she go away? Is she dead? I think not, but I think I repressed her. I think at some point after college I realized that it was not cool to be happy and to enjoy your life. All the cool kids were darkly cynical and judgmental of those who just wanted to be and to be happy. It seems like everyone I knew had to overanalyze and critique everything and everyone and sadly I let myself fall into that trap. And I got stuck there. And then I got bogged down in the workplace and got married and lost babies and had babies and somewhere along the way forgot all about the real me.

I feel so angry all the time and I rarely express it. But back when I was happy, I let myself be angry if I needed to be. There was balance.

I am so thankful I went to that reunion (I almost didn't.). I felt really proud of my classmates and genuinely happy to see how well they have all turned out. There were at least three moms with 4 kids who homeschool and I am in awe of them. There was an Air Force Lt. Col. with a beautiful wife and two young kids. Lots of teachers and lots of moms just like me. It was really great to see everyone looking so happy and beautiful. And I am grateful to have gotten to see myself in the slightest way as others have seen me, to know that I was liked despite what I thought back then.

I hope I haven't hidden that old me away too long or too deeply. I want to bring her back. I don't know what that will mean to my husband. I don't know if he ever knew me in that way or remembers me that way. I just know I have to find a way to make myself happy again. I can't resign myself to a life of feeling hurt, angry, sad, and inauthentic.

Try a Little Tenderness

Naturally, just as I sit down to write, Beckett bursts into hurt, angry, outraged tears. Brendan denies all knowledge of why.

I want to write. I miss writing. Yet, I have been uninspired. In a funk I can't seem to escape and consumed with Brendan's school issues, work in a field that is really not happening right now, and my self-absorbed-all-consuming thoughts about how to be a better ___________________ (wife/mother/friend/human being/writer/sex kitten/blogger/marketing manager/cook/cleaning lady/chauffeur/music lover/music manager/you name it).

I can't get my head out of .... well, my own fucking head, long enough to write. I have been uninspired and a slave to time despite having lots of interesting things to write about.

In summary, I had my 20-year class reunion, Beckett is speaking a lot!; Brendan may or may not have dyspraxia, and I pretty much continue to hate myself, although I am loving my life more.

If only I were more physically fit, smarter, more courageous, a better writer, more committed to my art, and had a full-time staff to do all the things I have to do (instead of writing), I might be able to stop being so negative. Being more positive is a major, major, major goal of mine and I have been consumed with working it all out before writing again.

Not quite there yet, but on the way.

Okay. I relent. I still hate myself today, but I don't hate anything else. Except the new Kindergarten report cards.