Monday, December 20, 2010

"The Social Network"

Yes, I am a member of "Facebook", I joined over a year ago when I was feeling lonely and bored. Mostly I joined because my children were always telling of the fun things that they posted to each other. I also found out that if my children would allow me to be their friends I could find out what was going on in their lives, because after age 10, they stop communicating with you. I was lucky if occasionally I got a audible grunt and eye roll. I have a few "Facebook" friends, mostly family members and old high school friends, I rarely turn someone down for "friending!" but I can honestly say that I have only looked at two or three profiles, which are my children. That can also be a mistake, I don't want to know everything, just bits and pieces. Obviously, I am not a "Facebook addict".

Last week, I got my own personal email from "Facebook", stating they had missed me, that I had not been on for over 30 days, that I had several notices, events that I had missed and wannabe friends waiting for my response. You have got to be kidding me. Like Facebook really cares.

It is December, ( you know, that surreal month) I work full time, have a large family, with wonderful grandchildren, have "real" friends that I make "real" visits to. In the last 30 days I have worked full time, organized Christmas parties, shopped for what feels like 100's of people and spent 100's of dollars (God bless the economy). I have traveled to the airport transporting and picking up family members and "real" friends, and could drive around the world with frequent driver miles if they were available. I have prepared and shopped for enough food to keep the State of Delaware food pantry full for the Christmas season. I have smiled kindly at store clerks who spend 10 minutes talking to their coworkers about the plastic sacks sticking together, while I kindly wait in line juggling 25 pounds of presents. I have gone through 6 large rolls of wrapping paper, three rolls of tape, a pair of scissors and if there were a partridge in my pear tree, I would shoot him, stuff him and put him on the Christmas tree! I have been to "Ugly" sweater parties and recognized over 10 sweaters I wore in high school. I have scraped car windows in 7 degree weather and as of yet have not been able to get my butt warm.

Surely, I could have found some time to "attend to" my Facebook. Obviously Facebook has enough time to worry about me, after 30 days, they contacted me, I live with my husband and I am not really sure if in the last 30 days I have said more than "it's garbage day" and have heard more than "Do you know where my wallet is?"

What I really want to know is: Who the Hell has time for Facebook. Please, let me know what woman/mother/wife/friend really has time to spend on Facebook. If you need me or want me to go some where or do something, pick up the phone, stop by the house, let me see you and hear you and communicate with you. Stop sending me "Messages" and "texts" with the little :)things. It is Christmas, give me a hug, a smile, a laugh, a dollar.

For Hell Sakes get a grip, it is a network, it is not social!

Monday, March 15, 2010


I need your help on this one. I am sitting here trying to ponder what just happened. I consider myself fairly strong willed and able to give my opinion when I think it is necessary, but I am stumped on this one. I would love your comment as to what exactly I did wrong.

Monday Night 5:30 p.m.

"Hello, did you have a good day at work and at school, my dear family?" "Why don't we spend some time together tonight and all of us go to a movie."

" I have been wanting to see 'The Blind Side' for a few weeks." " I heard it was great and would be a good family movie, something we could watch together." You know, create a memorable evening, maybe even give us something to discuss, something to "bond us".

Man and child, both agree, they would like to go to a movie.

However, Man would like to see "Alice" as in "Alice in Wonderland". I am 55, he is 60 child is 14, who the hell wants to see Alice in Wonderland, I didn't like it when I was little and I am pretty sure I won't like it now. Although I do have a certain fondness for Johnnie Depp in a Pirate Outfit.

I spoke up, I said, I don't want to see "Alice" is there something else? No, it doesn't appear so. therefore, they just left for "Alice" and even invited son age 26 to go, who went. Although I am sure he mostly went because he was hungry for pop corn and he knew that dad would pay.

I am sitting here trying to figure out what just happened. Did I cave in, did I forget that I was the one with the suggestion, or...even better... I realized that I could be home alone for two hours... There is something great in solitude.

I could have pushed my point, I could have thrown a fit and insisted that we go to what I wanted to go to. I have done that before, and it can be hell. In a family of all boys, and yes they are all boys age 60 on down, I have learned to pick my battles. It may have appeared as though I lost, but for the next hour and a half, I think I have won.

Monday, February 15, 2010

90 Years Young

It's true, I am a full fledged member of the "sandwich" or "sandwitch" generation. You know the generation that is sandwiched in between, being a daughter, a mother, and a grandmother, let alone a wife and if I am really rested, sometimes a lover. Most of the time, I am kind of a peanut butter and jam kind of sandwicher, but every once in a while I step it up and become the gourmet, hogie, lots of garnisher kind of sandwicher.

This weekend I took my 90 year old mother to see her 94 year old sister. I had so much fun. They are two of the cutest, white haired, short little women you have ever seen. If you stood them up end to end it appears that you get about a 6'1" woman. I love seeing them together, they don't get to see each other very often due to the distance, and the fact that they are both independent, but are smart enough not to make the three hour drive to see each other, and yes, they both still have driver's licenses. (You can take that up with your state legislature, I don't have time).

They sat together on the couch and I left the room, I know that there are things that sisters like to share that they don't want their daughters to know. I could hear them talking and laughing together like a couple of high school girls in the back of a boring classroom. I admired them, so much time had passed and they both have been worn and tired from life's long hardships, and yet the humor and optimism prevailed, I wish I could have been in there and seen the light and laughter in their eyes, the bond that sisters have, the memories, the love for each other.

On the way home my mother said; "I always feel when I leave, that it may be the last time I see my sister." She could be right. But for now, there was a sweet and loving smile and a kind remembrance of times together. Hell, for all I know they will both live to be 100. Works for me, I'll step up to the plate and serve a great party. Hell, I might even buy a new outfit.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Hell. It seems to be a pretty good topic for this year. Tomorrow morning my son flies to Iraq to spend the next few months wearing army fatigues and carrying around packs that weigh more than his younger brother and seeing and dealing with the atrocities of war. Yesterday we said our good-bys. That was "hell". You try to be so brave and strong; you don't want your children to see how much it affects you, you want them to go forward with their life with your support and trust. Which he has, he is a great young man. But I don't like putting my son in harms way, when they are little you watch them and care for them and shelter them. You don't let them swim unattended at a small age, or cross the street until they are well prepared and have learned to "look both ways!" You ran along side while they learned to ride a bike, even if it almost killed you and scraped your arms as you caught them. But army, there just doesn't seem to be a motherly kind of feeling when you say the word 'military'. He's a man, not a boy, he will do me good, he will do his country good. God Bless him. Pray for him and all the soldiers.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Well, it is true, I haven't kept even one of my new years resolutions and it is already the middle of January. To be honest I haven't even started some of them. I seem to be at a stalemate in my life, I don't have the energy nor am I in the mood to make any changes. I am trying to surround myself with affirmation that I am where I am suppose to be and that I need to spend more time relaxing and enjoying where I am right now. (It is really crap, and I know it), but helps ward off the guilt that seems to swirl around me on occasion when I haven't made any changes or accomplished anything in the last few days. Don't worry, my complacent attitude will change, as it does with all of us. We all have this drive to be a little better, or accomplish a little more, it isn't always good, because we; especially women don't know how to put limits on ourselves. We spend a lot of time comparing ourselves to others and to their accomplishments. We forget or trivialize all of our own accomplishments, we miss seeing the greatness in ourselves. That is what I will focus on this week; noticing all that I do, not what doesn't get done. Focusing on the fact that I haven't screamed, or yelled or slapped anyone that obviouslydeserved it! Noticing what I have done, and what all those around me have done this week, instead of what we haven't done. Damn, life looks better already!

Keep going, we are doing great!!... Take a deep breath in and start another day!!

Friday, January 1, 2010

New Years Day

Congratulations, you and I are still alive. Starting anew is a great feeling, followed only by sweat, procrastination and humiliation until we again start a new year with renewed confidence.

I know, you are wondering, why "Fresh Batch of Hell". It was a saying that my dear Grandmother used to use every time someone knocked on her door. My grandmother lived on a farm/cattle ranch back in the days when no one ever came to your front door, there wasn't even a sidewalk leading to her front door, they were mostly for show and for the occasional Fuller Brush man selling his wares and later for the Avon lady. Everyone always came to your back door, you didn't even really knock, just kind of a large rattle and yelling "hello, it's just me" as you walked in. You knew who the "just me" was, that is the kind of town it was. I think it must have been where the saying "back door friends are the best friends" came from. So, if someone took the trouble to walk to your front door and knock, you knew it wasn't something you wanted to deal with. Bad things came to your front door, i.e. the Government was condemning your ranch, someone was killed or injured in a war, or a so called "low-life" wanted to court your daughter. No matter what it wasn't good.

Therefore; the phrase... When someone knocked on the front door my grandmother would mutter under her breath.."I wonder what Fresh Batch of Hell this is." I have come to understand this phrase in my life I have opened doors, letters, hatches and windows to fresh batches of hell in my life. I'm learning as I age as to what is better left shut.

Join with me in this journey of living and learning. May all your resolutions come true and may you not even open one, single batch of hell this year.