Monthly Archives: March 2011

Monday, Monday, so good to me.

I realize what I’m about to say will make more than a few brows furrow, but here it goes… I Like Monday Mornings. There. I said it. I’ve always liked Mondays.

Maybe it’s a maternal thing. You know, the whole renewal, birth-of-a-new-week philosophy. A chance to get it right. Learn from the things I didn’t do well last week, and incorporate the things that did go well into the new plan.

This particular Monday morning was good. I got enough sleep, had the laundry caught up, and my hair looked decent straight off the pillow. (This last thing is important, because it determines if I’m going to run errands on my way home from carpool. Good hair=getting things done. Bad hair=coming straight home.) Sounds vain, I know, but it’s how I roll. So the extra time I took de-frizzing it yesterday paid off this morning. I fixed my son a proper breakfast (it’s standardized testing this week…) fed the fish, cleaned a bathroom, and watered the plants between my first and second cup of coffee. After making my morning loop, I stopped at the grocery store, meal plan for the week in hand.

The grocery store is nice on Monday mornings. The floors are clean, the shelves stocked, and the employees are in a better mood than usual. I got a good parking place and didn’t have wait in line to check out. Evidently there aren’t a lot of us “Monday People” out there. So I pretty much have the place to myself.

So here’s my Monday Morning Reality Check:

Lessons learned from last week

My friends don’t care if my house isn’t spotless. They will come over if I invite them. So I’m going to invite them more often.
It’s worth the effort to cook dinner. (This one blew even my mind, and I can’t believe I’m putting it in writing.) But a busy evening doesn’t get any better with a pizza box on the counter. I’m going to reserve my dining dollars for times that I can actually enjoy it.
My kids can be more independent than I give them credit for. I shouldn’t hover so much.
I should never be too busy to stop and ask a friend how her day is going. I will make that phone call. I will put the card in the mail.

Things I will do better at this week:

Not let laundry pile up.
Spend more time with friends.
Clear away the clutter in my kitchen.
Get to bed on time.

If I can finish the week with this much energy and optimism, there’s hope for me yet!

Spring Fever — or — If It’s Good Enough for Others, It’s Good Enough For You

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The Lucky Mom has been in a kind of weird place lately. I’ve had things on my plate and on my mind that have been weighing heavy, and have been avoiding the keyboard out of fear that I’d be bitter. We’ve been making important decisions about education for our kids, about elder care and nursing homes for parents, dealing with a 24/7 construction zone behind our house, handling a crisis with one of our boys, coping with declining property values and a rental market that has us barely breaking even on our previously-profitable rentals, and so on. Small potatoes compared to the woes of some, but a load on The Lucky Mom’s mind.

Since I’m always ready to dispense wisdom to those who ask for it (and occasionally to some who don’t), today I decided to turn the tables on myself, and pretend I was one of The Lucky Mom’s friends who came to her for advice. As I did, I had to prepare myself to be ready to take the advice I was about to give, even if it was tough. And I made a promise that I would find the positive side of each issue, no matter how tough.

This, too, shall pass. I use this one all the time, because of its universal truth. No matter what “it” is, “it” will eventually change. Change is the one thing you can always count on. Whether it’s a bad haircut, or 2 years worth of construction noise, it won’t last forever. And hey, when the new levee is finished, my flood insurance premium may go down. (Smile.)

Perspective: there’s someone out there who wishes she had your problems. I didn’t have to look far for illustrations of this point. Not long ago a friend was excited to announce that her daughter didn’t need another open-heart surgery. Another was pondering how to help her stepson handle his first birthday without his mother. The list is long of friends who are shepherding their kids through much greater ordeals than mine. I can hug and kiss my boy and soften his blow. I need to quit making such a big deal out of it. Then he will probably do the same.

Keep the faith. Another universal truth. As a woman of faith, I believe that God’s plan for me doesn’t skip any details. I believe that all the experiences of my life contribute to the plan that He has for me. Even if they seem difficult. Even if I don’t understand. I have an enviable life. I need to remember that more often.

So after a little positive self-talk, I feel better. I’ll embrace the coming Spring, noticing the new leaves instead of the pollen, the green grass instead of the weeds. After all, we’re in the heart of lacrosse season (my fav!) and crawfish are just around the corner. So what was I worried about?????

I’ll pray for you, you heartless jerk.

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It was up… it was down. Now it’s up again. My cooling off period is over, and I’ve decided I’ve got to say what I’ve got to say.

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I’m so angry right now I don’t know what to do with myself. The kind of angry I don’t get very often. The kind of angry I don’t understand, because it is so unlike me. The kind of angry that makes me wish bad things on people.

I don’t get like this over a wrong committed against me. This level of ire is reserved for those who commit a wrong against one of my peeps. One of my kids. The details of this will (I’m sure) come out eventually, but for now I’ll keep it vague. Not because I’m trying to protect anyone, just because I’m certain if I start, I will spill spew vitriol the likes of which the world hasn’t seen from me in decades. There will be words spoken – and written – that can’t be taken back.

I think you get my point now. I’m pissed.

So here it is in a nutshell: Someone has done something that has caused one of my children pain and humiliation. Big pain. Big humiliation. Which leaves me with the cleaning up part. How to teach a child to deal with anger and disappointment, how to hold your head upright in an extremely awkward situation, and how to move on. I’m thinking I’m going to have to break this thing up into manageable chunks to deal with it.

Dealing with anger is a work in progress for me. I do it better now than I have in the past, but shrinks everywhere make a living coaching people on how to do this, so I don’t feel bad that I haven’t mastered it. I do know a couple of rules: 1) Resist the urge to confront immediately. A cooling-off period is mandatory. 2) It always looks different to the person on the other end, so consider this before responding. It may change your perspective, or it may give you good ammunition for sniping later. 3) NEVER put anything in writing after having consumed alcohol.

The next part is harder: how to reenter the public eye after being humiliated. My instinctive maternal response was to shelter the boy. To open my wing and tuck him under like a mother duck would do her baby in a rainstorm. Then the rain would have to roll off of me, not him. But that ain’t how it works for us humans. Sooner or later we have to face the world. A friend shared a cliché with me once, “If you have to eat a shit sandwich, there’s no point nibbling.” Good advice. Just get it done. Expect it to be awful, and get it done.

Then, moving on. Ahhhh. The other part that keeps the mental health profession thriving. Any and all advice is appreciated.

This particular kid faces more trials than most kids. But then, not as many as others. As I’ve shared before, when my mama was feeling down, she’d invoke the old saying, “I cried because I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet.” There are parents out there today crying for much greater pains their kids are feeling. And I reminded myself of that last night. His problems are small compared to the big, scary world. But they are BIG to him. They are HUGE to him. And his perspective is the only one I care about right now.

So the person who has committed this wrong against one of mine better look out. When I decide to say my piece, it won’t be very nice. And while I don’t usually wish harm to others, right now I’m wishing it on you, you arrogant coward.

To use the words of the Jaron and the Long Road To Love song, I’ll pray for you, sir.

I pray your brakes go out running down a hill.
I pray a flowerpot falls from a window sill and knocks you in the head like I’d like to.
I pray your birthday comes and nobody calls.
I pray you’re flying high when your engine stalls.
I pray all your dreams never come true.
Just know wherever you are honey, I pray for you.