Swift As The Coursing River

Before I begin: Irony Pinot Noir Monterey 2006--not so good.
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I am the mother of a son. I am the mother of a boy-child. I am the mother of a future man.

Yeesh. This is hard. I don't know how to be a man, so how do I teach him to be a man?

Okay, so, his father has some of that responsbility. But that's for him to figure out in his own way. I've got to figure out how I do it as his mother. And I have to figure it out fast. Its becoming critical. Up until this age, I don't think it required much material difference than loving and nurturing a girl. Sure, I'd be playing Barbies alot more than Storm Trooper attack, but the parenting probably isn't much different. But the paths are diverging and I'm slamming into trees.

He's amazing. He is so smart, charming, clever, and creative. He's intuitive. And he's a natural leader. I just worry that he'll be the leader of a band of surfing bank robbers rather than an CEO. How do I channel those things? How do I nuture them in the right way?

He called a kid at school "stupid" today. And so tonight he has to write "I will not call my friends names" 5 times.I'm struggling with it because 1) the kid is stupid, and 2) the whole thing is so mamby pamby. This is a kid who constantly hits and verbally abuses Connor (I've seen it live and in action) and I'm not clear on what punishment he gets. Its just that Connor hardly ever lashes out--no hitting, no pushing--but he clearly snapped today. Apparently he was doing a floor puzzle with his friend Nathan and he was being a bit too "leader-y" (read: bossy--and I don't know where he gets that) and the other kid came and got Nathan and told him to come play with him instead. To which Connor said "Sam, you are so stupid!" So, I have the great joy of doing all this miserable writing with him tonight and acting all concerned. Ugh. Seems pretty normal 6 year old name calling to me. And this other kid is such a nasty brat that I really, really want to tell Connor to just kick his little ass. But, I can't. Refer to my earlier concern of bank robber vs. CEO. I'm also making him write an apology note to Sam--but it is violating every cell of my body. I am trying to rise above.

At any rate, there's been lots of whining and crying around here tonite. And all the way home in the car. And I'm tired. And I'm kind of sick of whiny people. So, its all piling up. And what do I do? The woman who want's to raise a good man? A strong man? A manly man? SHOW TUNES! That's what I do. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it? He's crying at the desk in the kitchen, body folded over and limp, and I finally snap and break into "Make A Man Out of You" from Mulan. He covers his ears and yells "MOM. STOP" but I carry on regardless and sing it like my life depends on it. He was not pleased.

Okay, not very effective. But the message is on-point, at least. And it made me feel better.

TV

I love television. I always have. Ask my mom. But I have to say that since Connor arrived in Tatertown I haven't had the time to devote to more than one or two shows that require "following". Amazing Race has been one of them since Season 3-I love it and I wish I could be on it. (Not with Bob, though. We'd fight and it would get nasty--we'd be Johnathan and Victoria all over again--without the implants). And of course we TIVO'd The Sopranos until it ended. After that, I was done. Then came the iPod Touch 32G. Screw music---I use it to feed my TV addiction. I can watch TV shows anytime, anywhere. And I don't have to waste time on piffle--I only download things that have received critical acclaim or that my friends have recommended. On live TV, I try to randomly catch American Idol and Dancing With The Stars, but I haven't even really seen a whole show of either of them all season. I've been working out every day, too, so I can catch some TIVO'd shows then. So, here are my random thoughts on the topic:


1. There are so many fantastic dramas out there. I think HBO set the bar and other networks are trying to keep up and its created a fantastic crop of shows. I absolutely think that "Saving Grace" on TNT is one of the best shows I've ever seen. You can watch episodes on-line and I dare you to watch the first show and not have to watch every single one thereafter. The acting is fantastic--and there are so many attractive MANLY men in it, it is mind-boggling. You can't help but be jealous of Grace. Sure, she's going to hell. But she's going down in blaze of glory. Other than the smoking, drinking, and promiscuity, I'd like to be just like her. :) Its a show about a chick, but its written for men. And I have to say that if a little more bad behavior could get me a Last Chance Angel like Earl who'd come massage my feet, I might start being bad.

2. Life - NBC cop show. Started out good, but its losing me a little. Its like the writers are abandoning story arcs. But Damian Lewis is the red-haired BOMB. What a great actor. And Adam Arkin. And Donal Logue.

3. The Tudors - Just finished Season 2. Watched the last episode on the plane last Friday and wept in my seat. The man to my right was patting me on the shoulder. And I really don't know why I cried. Anne Boleyn was a bitch--but it was so heartbreaking to see her desperation and her love for her daughter. And really, how she pulled it together to try to have some dignity in the end. I love historical fiction novels, so it stands to reason that I'd like this. Another great show.

4. DWTS-This show is just brilliant, good, clean, fun. Tom Bergeron is a sharp wit. And I'm developing a crush on Ty Murray. Bob and I were watching DWTS last night and I realized it. Initially, I thought he was kind of a dope and I really didn't see what Jewel saw in him. But he's such a gentleman. And he's got a great smile. And Bob put is finger on it---he has a humble kindness about him that is appealing. Go rodeo man!

5. Next? I'm soliciting your recommendations. I'm thinking about all five seasons of "The Wire" back to back. I saw the first but I forget most of it but I notice that one of the lead actors from it is in a few new things. And again, he surprises me because he's British. I've also got a recommendation for "Big Love". Any other ideas? My iPod is empty and sad right now.

Excuses

Bob and I are not super great on the cleanup discipline around here. The family room generally looks like a pipe bomb of Matchbox cars went off inside a Toys R Us. Its something we agree we need to work on with the boy. So, last night we ate dinner and warned Connor that he'd need to clean up the family room before bedtime. I headed off to workout and Bob was on the PC in the office. 45 minutes goes by. I emerge from the workout room. This is what I hear:

C: Yeah. Can't right now.
B: (Inaudible) but I can tell its something about cleaning up
C: Uh. Sorry. I ate alot of meat. It's down here in my belly. (Looks down and points to stomach) I need to lay here for awhile to help with DIGESTION.
B: (Inadible)
D: (Me--looking down into the family room from the overlook) What did you say? You don't want to clean because you just ate?
C: YES. The meat you made me pack into my stomach has to DIGEST and I'm going lay here until it does.

I think this means that there is way too much discussion going on about stomach functionality in Tatertown.

Not For Long

So, they were on their own last week. Bob and Connor. The police weren't called. They handled a haircut and school picture day without me. The house was still standing. "Transformers" was in the DVD player with the volume on, like, a million decibels. They deny dining at Hooters, but I'm not sure I believe them. I think they had a good week. But they missed me. And I missed them.

When I got home Friday night at 11pm, Connor was up waiting for me. He was so excited to see me he could barely move. I walked in the front door and he froze on second floor foyer, grabbed the railing and just whispered "Mama. Mama. Mama." I dumped off my bags and climbed into his bed with him. He snuggled me and told me he missed me and grabbed my neck and planted a minute long kiss on my lips. He laid back on my arm and took a long, deep breath. I leaned over and kissed him back and told him how much I missed him and asked him why he missed me. He sat up, grabbed my cheeks, turned my face to his, and said "Because you are my angel".

Like this song, I know it won't be like this for long. Someday, some chick named Tiffani will be his angel. But I'll take it for now.

Their Brilliance

I really try to not hold back my feelings for people. I don't think there's any value in holding close the fact that you like, admire, love, envy, or are seeking things that are wonderful about the people in your life. Even people you barely know--you'll always hear me complimenting strangers about beautiful things they're wearing, their hair, their children's kindness. Whatever. I say it out loud and I love the reaction I get when people are pleasantly surprised that I've done so.

Because I'm that way, I'm hard to surprise. When others give voice to something they admire about me, its great. But refer to paragraph 1: that's the way I think it should be. So, its hard to get me to a place where I am truly touched and grateful for a quick compliment or comment.

My colleague and friend, Jeff, got me this week while we were at the national sales meeting. They showed a new video of the technical and medical directors at our laboratories. The topic of the video was commitment to quality and innovation---basically, helping patients. It was really well done. I personally know almost every scientist or doctor in the video. Many of them I have traveled with or see in the parking lot or cafeteria every day. That means, that I see them as normal people and I truly forget that they are among the most brilliant people on the planet. These are scientists that develop new tests for deadly diseases. These are people that understand the human genome. These are people who save patients lives. It got to me.

So, the video ends. Like any grown children at meeting, we've been writing notes back and forth. I grab the note paper and write the paragraph you see here:

And I meant it. At the moment I wrote it, I really was questioning my place in the company and the value of what I do compared to those truly gifted people. It doesn't happen often, but I was feeling humble, grateful, inadequate, and lucky. Then I got luckier. Jeff took the paper and wrote the word "life". He looked a me and then pointed to the paper and drew that spectrum line from left to right. He nodded at me as if to say "You get it?" I did. Then he drew that dark tick mark on the right third and entered the caption "their brilliance". He looked at me again and I was puzzled. He moved the paper toward me, leaned in and said something like this: "Life is wide. People like those--their brilliance only takes up that little space. Someone like you (he now draws the two center tick marks), you take up all of the space in here." How nice is that? I'm sure I don't have those words just right because I was so touched. It was just what I needed to hear at that moment of self-doubt and it was said in such a perfect way with no forethought or restrictions. It's one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. Thanks, Jeff. And by the way---you're one of those brilliant people that I wonder why they let me work with.

Out Of The House

Our second warm-ish day in a row 'round these parts and it called for a nice walk in the woods at Great Falls Park. Connor loves it there. Bob had to work today, so it was a mother/son woodland rock clamber. The place was packed. Every picnic table taken, a 20 minute wait to get in the park by the time we were leaving. The big event was Connor climbing on to a split 12 foot tall boulder and falling into the crack. That made him pay attention to where he put his feet for the rest of the boulder strewn walk. We're lucky he caught himself by the edges of the crack and then dropped himself down or we easily could have been getting an ankle CT scan this afternoon.

Tethered

I generally have really good self-esteem. Over the years I've spent a fair amount of time thinking about that, being grateful for it, and wondering why I was so blessed. At this point in my life, having in been in the "adult" world for 22 years, I am sure that many, if not most of the bad decisions people make in their lives are somehow related to three things: 1) sex, 2) greed/need for money, or 3) poor self esteem. If you stop and think about the biggest one or two mistakes you've made (and if you're honest with yourself!) I'm sure you'll be able to tie it to one or more of those things.


Items 1 and 2 are fairly universal in mankind, unless you've taken a vow of celibacy and poverty. Its item 3 that seems to be the most variable. On the bell curve of self-esteem and self-worth, you're pretty much screwed for life if you come in on either tail. So, if you're centered on the bell and you merely move around within that larger curve, you are very lucky.


Anyway, back to me. I definitely am off-center in the direction of best self-esteem. I have a happy mirror. Even at my fattest, I still think I look the best I can. Even when my hair has been a hot mess, I've thought it looked great. My nose is remarkably distinctive, but I think it suits me. You get my point. Some other person with poor self-esteem, my nose, my fat butt, and bad hair would be beyond inconsolable. But not me. Me, I love myself and I'm fine with or don't accept those things as flaws. They're part of the full me and in the end, I love the full me.


So, if you're like me and you've been given a "more than your fair share" of that self-esteem magical potion, there needs to be something to keep you from drifting into that tail of egotistical narcissism. An anchor of some sort to keep you tethered to center of the curve. Some sandbags to hang off your balloon basket to keep you from drifting away. For me, one of those tethers has always been my feet.


Don't get me wrong. I think my feet LOOK fine. Yes, they're big. But they're not disproportionate. Given my bust-size, if they weren't the size they are, I'd fall over all the time. So, taken on they're own, I am fine with them. Its the shoes. Or, more specifically, the lack of cute/pretty/sexy shoes available to me that is the tether. It has always been an issue or a challenge for me to find stylish shoes. I end up with these nun-like black loafer things and men's sneakers. UGH. I hate it. It kills me. I am a GIRL. I might be a big one, but I'm still a GIRL. And damn it, I want some nice girl shoes. It is an issue.


So, on the rare occasions that I can fine some cute/pretty/sexy shoes, I feel the need to celebrate. To rejoice. To throw off one of my sandbags for a few hours when I wear them and drift a bit toward that tail. It happens so seldom that I never am in danger of losing my tether, but it does allow me to stretch the rope a bit when that bag is tossed down to earth. So, join me for a moment in celebration of these:

I know. They're both tall heels. I accept the fact that by wearing them I'm teetering into tranny world at 6'2". But I DON'T CARE. They are some shoes. I might wear them around the house with my pajamas. The short men I work with had best beware or get some lifts if they can't handle it.

Look out world. I've got me some new shoes.