Things that are making me feel good about myself

1. My birthday.
My birthday was on March 22, and my family really did a great job. There was champagne and chocolates the night before, and then presents and dinner with The Hubby at the fondue place on the 22nd. The presents showed me they really know me: all things I love! New pajamas, cozy socks, Cadbury creme eggs, the DVD of Chuck Season 1, tickets to a concert at the Hollywood Bowl, climbing roses from my Mom, a $50 gift card to Nordstrom from my mother-in-law (do I even remember how to shop?). I'm feeling the love.

2. My haircut.
I finally got my hair cut about a month ago. It was in a horrible state: bangs so long I just brushed them to the side and didn't have bangs; ends so fried it didn't even look like hair any more. It was shapeless and long, and I HATED it!
When I first got it cut, the bangs were a little too short. But now that a month has gone by, the bangs are the right length and I have figured out how to style it correctly. I am so happy with it! I feel a million times better when I see myself in the mirror. I am walking taller.
I was trying to go without a haircut for as long as possible to save funds, but I should have just spent the money sooner! The improvement in my outlook was well worth it!



3. Daffodils.
They are in Trader Joe's and the grocery store. Little bunches of daffodil buds. About $2.00 for 10 stems. They just look like green blobs.
Then, you get them home and put them in a vase, and later that night, they have started to open.
The next morning, they are BIG, beautiful, bright yellow daffodil blossoms.
Their season is short. I am savoring it while it lasts!

4. New pajamas.
As mentioned above, my family bought me a new pair of pajamas for my birthday. They are just a simple cotton t-shirt and drawstring pants from Target, but ahhhhhhhh. Who knew that such a simple thing could feel so good? Such soft cotton... not threadbare, pilling, and falling apart, like the pajamas I was wearing. I put them on, and I feel like a million bucks!

5. My band.
Last Saturday, we had a gig (this precluded me from going to the bloggers' picnic). It was a small gig for us: playing at The Boy's preschool carnival. The preschool director had asked me for a favor - they needed live entertainment - and my guys delivered. Big or small event, they are terrific.
I sang lots of my favorite songs, in front of a crowd who knew only the "mom" side of me. It was fun hearing their surprised reactions: "WOW, you're so good!" "How long have you been singing?" All my life, and thanks!
My mom was here visiting, and she hasn't had a chance to hear my band before, so this was extra-, extra-special! (Most of my singing has been in the theatre, and she saw that a lot when I was growing up! But she hasn't had a chance since I started singing in bands three years ago.)
Singing with the band does make me feel good about myself, since it allows me to have an identity outside of "Mom," and gives me a chance to perform (I miss the theatre terribly). However, it can also give me opportunities to feel bad about myself, since I am really hard on myself and beat myself up over mistakes.

But this is a positive post. Being positive is another thing that is making me feel good (and just like going to the gym, it sometimes takes willpower), so I am not going to start down the road of things that are making me feel bad about myself. Unfortunately I can't stop my brain from going there, but I'm having my fingers focus on the positive!

Siblings and The Truth

Last night was my Moms' Group. We meet once a month with an MFT to discuss - well, anything and everything!

Last night one of the moms brought up an interesting issue. Her sons are 6 and 3.5. Her 6-year-old has always been a kid who tells it like it is. You can ask him, "who spilled that milk?" and he will answer truthfully. He's not sneaky; he's an open book.

Her 3.5-year-old has started scheming a bit. It's very normal behavior at this age. He'll come in from the back yard and say "Mom, he took my basketball!" She'll then ask the older one what happened, and he was nowhere near his brother. The little one was trying to get the big one in trouble.

The mom's concern is that she might be setting up roles as "The one who tells the truth" and "the one who I can't trust" by asking them to each say what happened and then always believing the older one. It's hard for her, because she can, in fact, believe the older one; she is aware, however, that this could be problematic.

We discussed just talking to the younger one about the situation as if it were true, without bringing the older one in. "If he took your basketball, what would be a good thing to say in that situation?" Perhaps it's not important to find out The Truth and What Really Happened. Perhaps it's just important to talk to the kids in a positive, constructive way and leave it at that.

It's an interesting idea to contemplate and try to keep in mind as we navigate this tough, exhausting job of mothering. Sibling dynamics are a minefield. I recommend the book "Siblings Without Rivalry" by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

(Update:
Previous chat: Saturday night, 3/14
Latest chat: Today, Tuesday, 3/17, innocuous banter, duration 10 min
Prognosis: positive)

And a Happy Saint Patrick's Day to everyone!

I had to spend the morning in a boring meeting for one of my volunteer duties, which was made even more difficult because I had two better offers!

One, the Kindergarten was having their big celebration in the park, in which they hunt for pots 'o' gold and leprechauns (and a school staff member dresses up as a leprechaun and prances around the far end of the park, then runs away and disappears before the kids can catch him/her), do rainbow-y and shamrock-y craft projects, have snack and green cupcakes, and play!

Two, my Irish citizen friend invited a few women over to her place for a morning tea. I would have enjoyed a cuppa, some soda bread, and great conversation!

But no, I was stuck for two hours discussing "systems and strategies for compliance" and other such yadda yadda, with The Boy in the chair behind me playing the DS.

When we were set free, we went to the park to catch the last part of the Kindergarten fun. We missed the leprechaun, though. :-(

Oh well, my perfect St. Patrick's Day it's not. Since The Hubby is away on a business trip and I'm parenting solo this week, there aren't any St. Patrick's festivities for me this evening, either.

But that's okay! I just really like this holiday and a few missed opportunities aren't going to get me down! It's St. Paddy's Day and I'm feelin' fine!

I've been lost in a time warp

I am dying to tell you all ... those of you who still read my blog ... and one of you is Margaret, who I ran into in the grocery store yesterday so already knows about this ...

I've been lost in a time warp.

My particular time warp is 1991. I've been sucked up by 1991 and wonder when I'll make it out of this vortex.

Can you guess what has caused this time warp vortex?

I bet you can!


FACEBOOK.

Yes, I know, I was very anti-Facebook. No, I'm not sure how I feel about it now that I have signed up, but I was talked into signing up by one of my oldest friends last weekend.

AND THEN MY WHOLE WORLD EXPLODED.

Monday, I set up my Facebook page, not sure how many friends I wanted to have and trying to figure out what the Wall is, and what the News Feed is, and where I should be looking, and why isn't there an "About Facebook" button with some sort of tutorial? So I spent Monday clicking around and wondering about groups and fan pages and looking at the profiles and walls of the few people I had added to start me off. And snooping around the profiles of some other people from my past, not sure if I was ready to reach out to them.

Tuesday morning, just 24 hours after joining, I got a friend request that knocked me out of my chair. THAT GUY. The one who I met doing a show when I was 17 and he was 20 (we were near our 18th and 21st birthdays, though ... I was a senior in high school and he was a college dropout from Kansas who had come to California to crash with his dad). The one who, even though I had a long-time boyfriend who was away at college, I could not stop thinking about. The one who felt that he was too confused about his life and that I was heading off for bigger and better things (college at Stanford; and my parents were moving to Oregon to make it more complicated), so decided that we shouldn't have a relationship. The one who took me out on dates even though we weren't dating (the passionate talk and the making out sure made them feel like dates). The one who was a mother's nightmare (sorry, mom!).

The one who spent the last few months before I moved, while we did another show together, pretty much ignoring me and dating other people, but then spent the NIGHT before I moved telling me how much he loved me. The one who didn't call me for months after that, but finally did and we spent that night on the phone falling in love with each other. The one who promised this time would be different and he would be better about calling, but then broke that promise.

THAT GUY. We had such chemistry. We never did anything more than a little making out, but it was the talking and just the hanging out that we did SO WELL. We were so different, yet we seemed to fit. We were never given a chance, though.

I couldn't count on him. He had said all the right things but then not called for months too many times. I had given him enough chances.

I fell in love with someone a few months after that late-night phone call my freshman year in college. I would forget about everyone else I had ever known; I would forget my name; I knew that I would marry this man. And one year after graduation, he proposed. Yes, The Hubby!

Eventually, I would think about THAT GUY. I had written about him in my diary, after all, and I like to reminisce. When I got internet access and learned of yellowpages dot com, I looked him up. Other search engines came out, and I looked him up. I went to the memorial service of a mutual friend, and not finding him there, asked another mutual friend to see if she could find him and give him my phone number. I Googled him. Thinking he might have gone into the industry, I imdb'd him. I always found many listings for his name, but no way to tell if any of them were the right THAT GUY.

Eventually, I decided that it would be best not to know what happened to him, and certainly best not to find him. Despite the way things went between us, I have treasured memories of the time we spent together and the things that were said. I decided it was best to preserve it as it was.

THEN I JOINED FACEBOOK.
And the next day, THAT GUY. After all those times years ago that I tried to find him, it took less than 24 hours on facebook for him to find me! After SEVENTEEN YEARS. I stared at the Friend Request, trying to decide what to do. I went out for the day and thought about it. I went back and forth, feeling my heart beating in my throat.

I came back to the computer late in the afternoon. I didn't know what I was going to do. Staring at the screen, I took a deep breath and clicked "Confirm." I would just let whatever was going to happen, happen. I figured it would just be "hi, what are you up to? I have three kids. oh" and not much more, like what happens at high school reunions, and frankly, I worried that that would be a blow to my self-esteem yet again. But I had no idea what usually happened on facebook, so no idea what to expect.

Almost the very second my finger came back up from clicking "Confirm," a chat window popped up. I didn't even know there was chat in facebook! THAT GUY. Talking to me, live in a chat window. I almost threw up. I couldn't hear my kids playing right behind me, what with the beating of my heart. My fingers shook. I got all sweaty. And I remembered that it was his birthday!

We had a short chat. My exploded brain remembers it went something like:
me: "I can't believe I'm talking to you right now. Isn't it your birthday?" him: "Yep." me: "How old are you?" him: "39." him: "Your kids are cute." me: "Thanks, yours too!" him: "You look happy. Is it true?" me: "Yes, very." him: "I'm so glad to hear that." me: "This is weird." him: "Should I not have found you?" me: "I don't know yet." him: "I understand if you don't want to acknowledge me, but I have thought about you a lot." me: "I don't believe you." him: "well, it's true. I was a total mess then and I missed out on you. I'm so sorry." me: "I cannot believe this is happening right now."
And some pleasantries, and then I had to go make dinner.

And then I told The Hubby about it. He did not think it was a big deal. Why was I making a big deal about it? he wanted to know.

Because my not-a-relationship with him never had an ending! And I was not sure that I wanted it to have a postscript. Some things are better left alone, to reminisce about in our private thoughts.

The Hubby thought I was being silly. "Why don't you suggest that you two get together? Your kids can play."

"That would be WEIRD!"

"No, it's no big deal."

Well, he doesn't get it (I thought to myself).

The next day, a chat window popped up again. This time, our chat was longer, and it briefly touched upon the past.

Another day, another chat. Again and again. More delving into the past.

Then when he asked again if we should talk about exchanging phone numbers, I took a deep breath and punched my cell number into the chat window. Then I received a text message. Then I received a picture on my phone of his Wii avatar. Um, ooookay?

I told The Hubby about it. "Maybe it's weird," he said, thinking. "No, I'm sure he's just being friendly," he finished.

Saturday night I was up late after everyone went to bed, and another chat window popped up. This time, we really got into the past.

At some point, my fingers typed out the gist of my worries. "What if we see each other and find that we still have that chemistry?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said.

"I do know that the phrase "unfinished business" has never been more apt," he said.

"Yes! You get it!" I cried. Knowing that he totally understood what was weird about this was, for me, a huge relief.

Just knowing that I wasn't the only crazy one here has really calmed me down about the whole thing. It seems counterintuitive, but that's the effect it has had on me. My heart rate slowed back down; my fingers stopped shaking.

I was never sure if, back then, he had strong feelings about me or if it was all my overactive imagination. All these years, I have thought I might have been a silly 18-year-old girl about this. Finding out through these chats that it wasn't a figment of my fluttering heart actually is helping me exhale and move on to whatever this is going to be NOW.

This story is not over. We'll have to wait and see how it all unfurls.

Where did February go?

Hmmm. It's March now.

I'm not sure how that happened.

I feel like I've been buried under a huge pile of volunteer duties. I can think of three big things right off the top of my head that I've been working on during the last two weeks.

I've also been going to the gym a bit more. I've been pretty good about going to a class twice a week since early October, and during the last couple of weeks I have been extra focused on making sure I get there. I am seeing NO RESULTS. Wheee!

The kids and I went to the zoo the other day. We enjoy reading maps! (We also enjoy watching industrious little orangutans!)





This month we started letting Turbo go outside in the back yard! He is very happy with the arrangement!



I think the tooth fairy is moving in! Since January 22nd, my two girls have lost seven teeth! Seven!

In fact, they lost four during the last week of February alone, including one each last Saturday! That's right, a double-tooth-fairy-visit!

And it's not over: Middle Girl has one more loose one, and Big Girl has three loose teeth!

They are falling out left and right around here!

My poor Boy keeps pulling on his teeth and despairing "when will I lose a tooth?" I can't blame him feeling left out right now!

Good genes

Today, The Boy was running along ahead of me and his calves reminded me of my husband's.

And this, my friends? This is a very nice discovery.

what a weekend.

What do you do with a rainy three-day weekend when you're pinching pennies?

One day, we went to our local independent bookstore (I cannot tell you how much I LOVE that place) because Middle Girl got a gift card for her birthday. Is your family like mine? Do you all just love to spend time in a bookstore, looking at book after book after book? (Thinking about the people who come to this blog... yep, you are all like that!)

Books seem even more comforting when it's raining outside, don't they?

A few of us saw books we wanted to read, but since we were only there for Middle to use her gift card, we decided to head over to the library.

Some time later, we left the library, with books and a DVD off the "New Releases" shelf.

We all came in the door and fell upon the couches to spend the rest of the afternoon with the books!

Later that evening, we slipped in the DVD. It was the final live Broadway performance of "Rent." (Parents of the Year, that's us!)

When you're a theater geek, and you are my age (23 when "Rent" came out - just starting out on your own after college), "Rent" is not just another musical! Heck, even The Hubby loves it, and he's not a theater geek!

After 12 years on Broadway, "Rent" closed last fall. They assembled an amazing cast for the final few months, including two original cast members, and filmed it for posterity. Many, many actors who had been in it through the years were in the audience. They dedicated the performance to Jonathan Larsen, who wrote this musical about "liv[ing] each moment as [your] last," "no day but today," "measure your life in love," and who died of heart failure the night before its first performance.

Man, I cried watching this. I cried and cried. I cried for the triumph of the show itself and how seeing the show and falling in love with an HIV-positive drag queen (you can't help but) has changed people. I cried for all the Closing Nights I've been in. I cried for how much I miss the camaraderie of cast members. I miss it so much, and I don't have anything in my life right now that feels like that.

A day full of books followed by a good, long cry. What a weekend!

Opinions, I Has Them

Last night, at band rehearsal, we were discussing doing Coldplay's "Viva la Vida." The guy who's sort of our de facto music director said Coldplay didn't write that song, Joe Satriani did. This was his snide way of getting us on the topic of the plagiarism lawsuit. Well, he sucked me into an argument, he sure did!

I argued that just because two songs sound alike doesn't mean they purposefully plagiarized. He argued that “George Harrison, Michael Bolton, and others have lost cases like this, and those songs don't have the exact same melody like the Coldplay one! It's not just the same chords, it's the same melody!" I said, "I guess it'll have to be settled in court, although I'm not sure I'm comfortable with lawyers and judges deciding about musical creativity..." Then he proceeded to argue that the Grammy awards shouldn't have rewarded the Coldplay song. I said the Grammys shouldn't take a position on it before it's been decided in court - "they can't take sides in this!" I said. Which made him snort. Snort. "Go listen to the Satriani song," he said, and we dropped it and moved on to other topics, like the drama between members of our band!

When I got home, I listened to the Satriani song ("If I Could Fly"). It's easy to find comparisons on YouTube (they keep getting yanked off, so no use embedding), and the sample of it on iTunes is the section of the song that's in question.

Basically, my feeling is that yes, both songs do use the same three notes in their melodies. They also both go "two measures to play the three notes (A, B, A flat), then two measures sort of riffing on those notes, repeat." The riffing is not the same, but it is a similar idea. I think it's absolutely credible that more than one songwriter could have thought up that structure independently! I also think that had Coldplay known how similar "If I Could Fly" was, they would have changed up "Viva la Vida" a bit during the writing period. It's a risk with no payoff to knowingly copy an existing song. My verdict? No plagiarism. A situation that sucks for both sides, probably more so for Satriani, but life sucks. No plagiarism.

However, it might be worth mentioning that when "Viva la Vida" came out and I fell in LOVE with it, and wanted to hear it over and over, I was surprised that it was a Coldplay song. In general, I think Coldplay's music is positively coma-inducing. (I do like "Yellow" and "Clocks.") They write a song that doesn't really sound like Coldplay, and it gets accused of plagiarism? That's kinda interesting.

I prefer not to get sucked into arguments like this, but it definitely happens from time to time! My husband is intimidated by my strong opinions. Of course, he never argues, never ever ever. Does he have opinions and he just prefers to keep them to himself, or does he not have opinions? I don't know. And we've been together for seventeen years!

So in light of this "reputation" I have, it's interesting that my reaction to some recent news events is "ho hum, who cares?"

I'm talking about Christian Bale and Michael Phelps.

Christian Bale cussed out a crew member on a movie set. So what? This is the guy who lost 60 pounds, weighing only 120 pounds, for The Machinist. This is the guy from American Psycho. Guess what? He's crazy intense. We knew that. Why does anyone care about this "news" story?

Many have said it: who cares that Michael Phelps was smoking pot? He publicly said he was taking a break after the Olympics; one might expect him to go a little wild with the partying after so many years of extreme discipline. I've never smoked pot, because I'm a goody-two-shoes, and even I am nonplussed about this. Anyone who made him a "role model" for anything other than training for swimming is an idiot and needs to kindly remove their head from their fanny.

Now, Joaquin Phoenix. I'm worried. This hip-hop thing may or may not be a hoax, and the fact that his brother-in-law Casey Affleck is following him around with a grin and a videocamera instead of getting him help indicates that it probably is a hoax, but nonetheless Joaquin is not okay. Did you watch the Letterman clip followed by the clip from his appearance promoting Walk the Line? Bearded Joaquin can't form words or thoughts. It's worrisome.

Change

I guess change was in the air this month! I've been planning to paint the upstairs bathroom since we bought this house in Oct. 2006. I even bought the paint at that time!

I don't know what finally motivated me to get out the brushes and get it done, but...

Here is what it looked like on Jan. 19, 2009, when a guy named Dubya was President...




...and now? Aaahh. A breath of fresh air!





(See, Internets, how I am keepin' it real? That's right, I left the crap on the sink and the ugly kids' towels on the towel bar, what of it?)

Middle Girl is turning six on Thursday. She had her party last Saturday.

She decided she wanted a "pajama party." The guests came in their pajamas and brought a stuffed animal. We served pizza and cake, and then showed the Tinker Bell DVD. They ate popcorn and played with light-up bracelets in the movie room. The parents came to pick them up at 9 pm, so everyone got to stay up past bedtime yet still go home to sleep in their own beds. It was like a precursor to a slumber party - very appropriate for 5- and 6-year-old girls.

They seemed to have a ton of fun, if all the giggling was any indication.

Middle Girl is a wonderful hostess. She took good care of all of her guests. Is this a Middle Child thing? She seemed to be of the mindset that it's her responsibility to see that her guests are having a good time. My oldest, on the other hand, tends to think that everyone else should be making sure that she has a good time. I do think that's an Oldest Child thing. (Although, I'm an Oldest, and hope I wasn't like that as a kid... oh, I probably was.)

Middle Girl was very excited about the "Pajama Party" theme. So much so that she wanted a Pajama cake. I had to decorate the cake with drawings of pajamas! It was challenging drawing with my piping bag, but I managed two pajamas and two nightgowns, all in different colors and with hearts or polka dots. I thought it came out kind of sloppy, but everyone else thought it was great! Middle Girl loved it.

It was fun listening to the little girls' conversations. In one, they decided to take a poll: "Raise your hand if your dad eats dinner in front of the TV." "Now, raise your hand if both your mom and your dad eat dinner in front of the TV!" That was hilarious. Is taking polls a 6-year-old girl thing? (Our family always eats dinner at the table together, but since the party girls were at the table, my husband took his pizza into the TV room, which Middle Girl thought was so funny!)

____

We are going to do her family gifts on her "Actual Birthday," so I am getting the gifts this week. The Boy and I are making a run to American Girl Place as soon as I sign off! Bye for now!

History

After dropping the girls off at school, where they would be watching the Inauguration with their classes, The Boy and I came back home. I still needed to eat breakfast, but I switched on the television first. There were Malia and Sasha Obama, in their colorful overcoats, heading through the Capitol Building toward the balcony and their seats. I sat down on the couch.

I would not leave the television until after the ceremony was over. In fact, it was after the Bush family boarded the helicopter and departed and everyone went back inside the Capitol. Breakfast would have to wait.

The Boy watched with me, wanting to know who everyone was as they came out onto the balcony. He identified the men by their ties (between the scarves and the ties, it was easy to identify them by color): he would later say, "there's Joe Biden in the blue tie."

Tears came to my eyes over and over again, particularly when I saw the huge crowd filling up and spilling out of the National Mall. We all want to be a witness to history, especially since so many of us feel ownership of this historical event. I am too young to have fought the hard fight for civil rights, but I did cast my vote for a man who would have been my choice regardless of the color of his skin. I helped make this day happen! WE made this day happen, all of us together. Just look at all of the people who contributed to this moment!

I think this is so important, too: this is no Affirmative Action. This is a man who is more Presidential than anyone I have ever seen. The Boy spotted him the first time they showed him walking through the Capitol Building, and shouted, "there's Barack Obama!" (Although sometimes he says "Arack Obama.") Obama may have more composure than anyone ever has. Imagine how that quiet confidence will come across in meetings with foreign heads of state.

The ceremony began. We saw Aretha and her fabulous hat. Not everyone can pull off that gigantic bow, but Aretha absolutely can. I loved it! We saw a quartet of world-class musicians (Jewish, Asian, African-American, and Hispanic) play a beautiful arrangement of "Simple Gifts." We saw Joe Biden become our Vice President, and then we saw Barack Hussein Obama take the oath of office. I stood up in my living room, wondering why I wasn't with a group of people - why was I holed up in my living room with only The Boy? I watched the Justice rearrange the words of the oath, and Obama pause to figure out whether he should fix the error (he decided to repeat them the way the Justice had said them). And then he uttered the words, "so help me God," and I burst into applause and tears at the same time! I picked up The Boy in a huge hug and swung him around.

Then The Boy said, "can we watch something else now?"

Of course, we didn't. We listened to Obama's speech (well, I did, and it was difficult through all of the "when will he stop talking?" whines) and appreciated once again that Obama doesn't think of this presidency as his, but truly thinks of himself as a representative of the people. It's striking.

I enjoyed the colors in the benediction ("the red man can get ahead, man"), and very much enjoyed watching that helicopter take off and fly away, getting smaller and smaller.

When the girls got home from school, I said, "what did you do today? Did you see history in the making?" Big Girl said, "we started learning cursive!"

They did watch it, but no matter how many emotions they see from me, they just can't grasp this. They will always live in a world where a black man has been President of the United States. They may never understand this the way we do. And you know what? Hallelujah!

I did manage to run one errand yesterday, but other than that, I felt like I spent the day in front of the television.

However, one cannot escape this moment in time: like many, my day included both celebration over a new President and consternation over a family member's recent layoff.

Please keep my brother-in-law in your thoughts.

Pass the Tissues

Here we go! The Inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama. Our young country is making a giant leap forward! We're growing up, and we can't go backward now. Racism still exists, and there is still a long way to go, but here we are. And we won't be going back.

Pass the tissues!

Twitter's broken... hopefully they'll fix it soon 'cause I want to join the party!