Don’t forget the good in the bad

Apr19

This week has brought so many things that have shocked the world. From the bombings in Boston to the ricin tainted letters and the fire and explosion in West, Texas.

Is it any wonder that folks think the world is ending?

I, with the rest of nation and the world, have been praying for the families of the victims of the bombings and the explosion. How horrible it must have been for all of them. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

I sit here typing this while watching coverage of the manhunt for the second suspect in the Boston bombings. Excuse me for being a bit bloodthirsty, but I’m glad the first suspect was killed and I’m almost hoping that the second doesn’t make it out alive. I’m all for innocent until proven guilty, but shooting at the cops and launching explosives at them doesn’t really make me think that you were innocent.

Having said that, I will also say a prayer for the families of these men. I would like to think that they didn’t have any hand in shaping their opinions or actions. If that is the case, then they are also losing a son and brother. It doesn’t make their grieving any less because these two men did heinous things.

It’s easy to forget that as well.

And while the bombings in Boston were horrible, there were many amazing people that leapt to the aide of those injured. Those that run towards the trouble, rather than away, are heroes. Those marathoners that ran to the hospitals to donate blood are heroes as well. Those in Boston that opened their homes to marathoners and their families are heroes, too.

And this doesn’t just go for those in Boston. In Texas, in the wake of the horrible fertilizer plant fire and explosion, we learn that one of the dead is a fire chief from Dallas who went to West, Texas, on his day off to help the first responders there contain and control the fire. There were people in West that waded through water and debris of a demolished old folks home to help any survivors.

The worst can sometimes bring out the best in all of us.

With so many bad things happening, it’s hard to remember the good things. It’s hard to remembered that there are wonderful things that are going on in the world, too.

This week, New Zealand legalized marriage equality. What a wonderful thing!

There are two videos I want to share with you, from New Zealand, that show what happens when people recognize love in all of its forms. When people understand that everyone, regardless of age, sexual orientation, skin color or religion, wants to have their love legitimized.

It’s beautiful.

The first is from a politician there talking about the arguments that he heard from many on the eve of the vote:

What a great way to respond to the naysayers.

But the one that will bring chills to your spine, the one that will bring a tear to your eye is below:

Everyone spontaneously bursts into a Maori love song.

And, with that song of love, I will leave you today. Spread the love. Spread the gratitude. Spread a smile.

Because the world isn’t ending. The world will go on. And we all have a chance to make it a better place with every small action we take.

The Job From Hell (May be offending to some)

Apr14

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I got laid off from one job right before Christmas, but got picked up by the same company on another contract a week later. I thought it was a blessing. Little did I know!

The job I had been working at for most of last year was awesome. The folks were like family and everyone (well, mostly) was wonderful to work with. I had taken on a new position as a demobilization assistant. I was helping entire units, rather than individual soldiers, to reintegrate and get home. It was damn challenging, but I was getting the hang of it. And I was loving it.

To say that I was shocked when I learned that we were getting laid off has to be the understatement of the world. We were called into the conference area on a Thursday morning and told that we were no longer going to be working there as of 1700 the next day. I was super impressed and proud of all of the civilians who were just told that they were losing their jobs 4 days before Christmas, though. We didn’t cry or carry on. Ever one of us wanted to know how this would impact the mission for the soldiers. It was a bright moment in an otherwise pretty dark day.

My supervisor lined up interviews for some of us at the JRC for an open position on that contract. I interviewed for it that Friday and didn’t have much hope that I would actually get the job. However, the day after Christmas, I got the call and started there that Friday. I was excited that I didn’t even have to apply for unemployment and would have a paying job almost immediately after losing my last one.

I was put in the RAPIDS/DEERS section of the JRC. It was here that I would issue identification cards to military members and also change their DEERS settings (controls their benefits). It took the better part of a week to get spun up and qualified to do the task, but I was up and running before our first unit came through on demobilization.

I took to the job like a duck to water, mostly cause it’s idiot proof. The program guides you through the entire process. It really wasn’t rocket science, to say the least. The downside? If we didn’t have a unit coming through, there was NOTHING to do. I mean that, literally. There was nothing to do. Our computers were not desktop computers, so we couldn’t even surf the net or anything. So we sat there, staring at the walls and engaging in conversation.

That’s where the issue came in. The conversation part.

See, everyone I worked with was a born-again Christian. Not that I have a problem with born-again Christians. I don’t. What I do have a problem with is people ramming their religion down my throat. And these folks took the directive to go out and spread the word in a very literal manner.

On the second day of the job, I was talking to the lady that was in the office next to mine. She was a divorced, single-mother as well and we were discussing the challenges that came with picking up your life after getting a divorce. I mentioned something about liking to do what are considered “manly” things (i.e., watching football, car care, handiwork around the house), and she said, and I quote, “If you accept God into your life, He will cleanse you and make you more ladylike.”

I was flabbergasted. Absolutely flabbergasted. My very first reaction was less than ladylike. I wanted to tell her, in a very Infantry like way, something that rhymes with “duck blue.” But, I (very admirably, I thought) bit my tongue and picked up the book that I had to pass the time.

Needless to say, I didn’t engage in much conversation with her after that.

So, out of 4 folks in the office, that’s one down. Three to go.

Two of the folks in the office were the supervisor and her assistant. They kind of kept to themselves and didn’t really come out and talk with the rest of us much.

So, two more down. One to go.

The last person that was always in the office, was an older gentleman that I’ll call H. H is the brother-in-law of a man that I had worked with at the last job, a man that I admire and respect. H seems genial enough when you first meet him, but he is all about the religion, too. H and I would fall into some theological discussions, but it would always turn to witnessing. I’m all for theological discussions, but the witnessing is uncomfortable.

One day, one of the other folks in the JRC came to the office to help out for a unit that we had coming through. Now B, as I’ll call him, makes no secret of the fact that he is a pastor for a local church. He reads the Bible constantly and has taken college courses to become a pastor. For him, witnessing is a way of life.

On this particular day, the lady that told me I would be cleansed? She had mentioned about the first same sex marriage that had been performed on the base where I work. Personally, I was thrilled with the idea that the military had repealed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and I loved that these folks could live their lives honestly and openly in uniform. However, this idea obviously didn’t set well with the religious folks in the room.

The conversation had gone on for about ten minutes and I had stayed out of the conversation as much as I could, but I finally had to say something. I said, “I don’t think it matters who you love. You love who you love and it’s a beautiful thing.”

At this point, B and H proceeded to parse the word “love” into different Greek words. I don’t remember all the words, but I know that they used one that was defined as “brotherly love,” and another that was defined as “passionate love” (that one was ‘eros,’ I do remember that). They proceeded to state that a man should only have brotherly love for another man and that if they had passionate love it was a sin.

It was at this moment that I backed out of the conversation. Mostly because I was steaming mad. Why was I mad, you ask? Well, let me explain:

Whether or not you believe that homosexuality is a sin, if you are Christian, you should hate the sin and not the sinner. It’s very simple. In fact, it’s a directive from Jesus Christ, himself. Jesus Christ broke bread with those that were considered the worst sinners at the time (tax collectors and whores) and declared his love for them. To do anything less that what Jesus Christ did and still call yourself a Christian is the ultimate hypocrisy, in my mind. It is just this hypocrisy that turned me away from the church. As Ghandi said, “Christianity isn’t bad. It’s the Christians I can’t handle.”

Now, I want to add here, for the Christians that are reading my blog, I don’t generally give a darn about what you believe or espouse. And I certainly don’t dislike Christians, just because they are Christian. What got me so upset about this situation was the fact that I was considered “less than” by these folks because I wasn’t someone who thumped a Bible and witnessed at every turn. That is what upset me. That they could be so hypocritical, yet consider me the sinner.

As the conversation continued and I continued to not say anything, H looked around at me and said, “What, you don’t have anything to say? I can’t believe you don’t have anything to add!” At which point, I stated, “I need a job more than I need an opinion and I don’t feel like socializing with hypocrites today.”

The conversation between H and B came to a screeching halt at that point. Soon after, I went to the supervisor and told her that I was “offended” by all of the witnessing that was happening in the office (and for those of you that know me, you know how hard it is to offend me). Soon after that meeting, she spoke to the rest of the folks in the office about the witnessing.

The next day, all conversation in the office ceased. No lie, I spent one week in that office with no conversation happening at all. We sat there for 8 hours a day and didn’t say a word to each other beyond “Good morning,” and “See you tomorrow.”

Eventually, I moved out of that office and spent the last three weeks or so at different locations, doing the same job. Thank goodness.

My mother told me years ago that there are three things you don’t talk about in public: sex, politics and religion.

Safe to say, she was right.

Bottom line, if you respect my beliefs, then I’ll respect yours. I won’t try to convert you to my system, as long as you don’t try to convert me to yours. I fully believe that religion is something that is very personal. Lack of religion is the same way. For those of us that don’t subscribe to any kind of religion, we have our reasons. We may not want to share those with anyone, so please don’t ask. Suffice it to say, we have thought about it and made our decision to live our lives without religion in it.

That being said, do I pray? Yup. I surely do. I believe in a higher power, but not one that is defined by humans. Do I consider myself to be Christian? No, I surely do not. Why? Well, I think Bill Maher sums it up very nicely with this quote:

“One of the complaints leveled against me is, ‘Oh, Bill, you’re such a meanie. Why do you have to go after religion? It gives people comfort; it doesn’t hurt anything.’ Okay, well, other than most wars, the Crusades, the Inquisition, 9/11, arranged marriages to minors, blowing up girls’ schools, the suppression of women and homosexuals, fatwas, ethnic cleansing, honor rape, human sacrifice, burning witches, suicide bombings, condoning slavery, and the systematic f**king of children, there’s a few little things I have a problem with.”

I do not subscribe to any man-made religion, Christian or not. I pray to a Higher Power who I think moves through our lives. I can talk the talk like a Christian (I spent many years working in the Catholic Church) and I find religion fascinating, but it’s not for me. I don’t practice it, I don’t live it and I don’t teach it to my children.

But I have zero problem with you if you do. I think that’s awesome for you. But it’s just not for me. And there are many reasons why. So, please don’t try to witness to me, especially in a work environment. That’s not the place for it. At all.

And, by the way, I’m pretty durn ladylike – when I want to be.

But, I’m still gonna change my brakes on my car and I’m still gonna root for Peyton Manning.

Cause that’s who I am. And I’m ok with that.

Woot! I did it!

Apr13

When I first moved into my new place and took a shower, I realized that there was a small lake outside my shower stall door. My friend took a look at it and determined that the rubber stopper on the door was rotted out and needed to be replaced.

So, today I went to Home Depot and bought one. It was fairly cheap. About $3 and seemed fairly easy to install. You just remove the old one and slide the new one into the grooves that the manufacturer so conveniently put there for that little piece of rubber.

Yeah, nothing in my life is easy, so why should this be any different?

I took off the metal piece from the bottom of the shower still door. That was easy. A Phillip’s head screwdriver and I was in business.

Once it was off, I proceeded to realize how freaking NASTY that metal piece was. Like, it had never, ever been removed and cleaned in all the years that this trailer has been lived in. Seeing as how this trailer was produced in 1982, that’s about 30 years of crap that was built up on that. Soap scum, mildew, hair. OMG it was totally gross!!!

So, first order of business, Clorox wiping the hell out of that thing!

Then, moving on to pulling that rubber thingy out.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to come out easily. It had rotted in spots, torn away in others. It took me a butter knife, flat head screw driver, Phillip’s head screw driver, box knife and 5 damn hours to get that thing off of there.

I never before realize that rubber could literally fuse with steel. I had no damn idea that that was even scientifically possible.

But, after much elbow grease, and much frustration, I finally got that track clear enough that I could put the new one on.

It was beautiful! Clean and fit perfectly. I put it back on the bottom of the shower stall door and closed the door to admire my handiwork.

And realized that the damn door is cockeyed. :-(

Honesty to the extreme

Apr13

I read an article on the Daily Mail UK by a woman who said that the biggest regret of her life was having her children. She was very honest and forthright about the fact that she disliked the children taking up her alone time and that she never felt any bond with them as they were growing up. Quite paradoxically, she devoted her life to them. Her feeling was that if she had children she was going to raise them and not have nannies or other caretakers do the job for her. Having decided to have them, she was going to be the best mother she could be.

Not that she was demonstrative, but they were well cared for and wanted for nothing. She always knew that she didn’t want children, but her husband did and she decided that it would be selfish to deny him of that opportunity. They worked out a life that worked for them and her children grew up to be productive and loving adults. Somewhat ironically, her daughter was struck by MS in her 20′s and has had to return back home where her mother must tend her every day. But, as she states, she would take on that tragedy from her daughter if she could. Because she is her mother and that is her job.

The comments under the article are as rude and horrible as you would think. Some call the woman selfish, self-centered, horrible, awful.

But I don’t see it that way.

This was a woman who seriously thought about what she was doing before she did it. She knew that she would not bond with the children the way that other mothers would. Was she a demonstrative mother? Absolutely not. But she was nothing more than fully attentive and giving to her children.

She states:

“I cannot understand mothers who insist they want children, then race back to work at the earliest opportunity after giving birth, leaving the vital job of caring for them to strangers. Why have them at all if you don’t want to bring them up, or can’t afford to? And why pretend you wanted them if you have no intention of raising them? This hypocrisy is, in my view, far more pernicious and difficult to fathom than my own admission that my life would have been better without children.”

I have to admit, I was one of those mothers. Or would have been if the opportunity had been afforded to me. When my oldest was 2, and my youngest was just born, we lived in a foreign country where I couldn’t get a job due to the Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA). If I could have, I would have run off to have a job and left my children with strangers to raise them.

Why? Because I was miserable. I was not hardwired to have small children around. Don’t get me wrong, I love my children. I do. I get more enjoyment out of them now that they are grown a bit. But when they were little, I was absolutely miserable. I missed my alone time, I missed my time with my own thoughts. I missed having a name, instead being known as “A’s mom” or “J’s mom.”

Even now, while I love to coo over babies, I love, even more, to hand them back to their mothers when I leave. I appreciate that I am not the one that has to give that amount of time to them that they require. I appreciate my independence, what little I have, now that my children are older.

I wouldn’t say that they are the biggest regret of my life, because THEY ARE NOT. I love my children and I am proud of them each and every day.

I guess I am saying that I understand, partially, where this woman is coming from. And I appreciate her honesty, with herself, her husband, her children and the world. I also appreciate her single-minded objective of raising her children, giving herself to them fully when they needed her. I appreciate that her and her husband worked out a way of life that worked for them, with the husband being fully attentive to the children when he was around instead of it all falling to her.

I’ll admit, and always have, that I cannot wait for my children to grow up. When my youngest started school full-time, I remember standing there with the other parents, dutifully waiting for school to start. Giving my son kisses and hugs and telling him that he was going to have a great time. I meant every kiss and every hug, from the bottom of my heart. I wanted him to succeed in school. As he turned the corner with his class and walked out of sight, I actually let out a whoop of joy. All of the other parents were crying and upset that their babies were growing up. For me, it was a sign that there was light at the end of the tunnel. That I would, eventually, have my life back.

Does it make me a horrible person to say these things? Maybe. I have enjoyed every milestone that my children have reached. I have fought hard for my oldest and I have worked hard with my youngest, to make sure that they have every opportunity that can be afforded to them. I love them and hug them and give them kisses and support. Because I do love them. I do support them.

But I don’t think that I could characterize my parenthood as a labor of love. More a labor of responsibility. I have said many times, and will say it many times again: I chose to bring these children into the world and I have a responsibility to mold them into productive members of society. I have a responsibility to make sure that they are polite and well socialized. This is my responsibility.

My heart bursts with pride when someone tells me that my children are polite and very sweet. It means that I have done a good job. My children say “please,” and “thank you.” They call ladies, “ma’am,” and men, “sir.” They do well in school. They have friends. They can read and write and do ‘rithmetic.

But I am counting down the days until my youngest graduates. I want to go live my life while I am still young. I will always be there for them. I will love any grandchildren that they bring me. But I won’t ache for it. I won’t itch for it. I won’t be that mother that continually asks them when they are going to have a child. I won’t be that grandmother that hopes she can babysit all the time. I just won’t.

To be honest, I don’t think there is anything wrong with anything I have said here. Will it sit well with everyone that reads it. Absolutely not. Will there be some that will think I’m a horrible person? Yup. Will there be some that think that I’m selfish. Oh, hell, yes.

But I don’t see it that way. I don’t see myself as selfish. I see myself as someone that has two children, whom I love, that has sacrificed and given, and continues to give, to make sure that they have a top notch education and want for absolutely nothing. Are my children spoiled? Mildly. But they also understand the word, “no,” and that mom uses it liberally.

I do love my children. I don’t regret my children. They have enriched my life in ways that it could not have been enriched without them. Do I want them to grow up and am I looking forward to that day? Absolutely.

But I can understand where the author of the article is coming from. I can sympathize, and even empathize, with her. I don’t think she is a bad mother. I don’t think she is a bad person.

Any more than I think those things about myself.

Any more than my children think those things about me.

Am I good mother? I think so. Whether or not you agree with me actually doesn’t matter. Time will tell how good of a mother I was. I think it already does.

I think I have two terrific kids who light up my life. But…..I still can’t wait for them to grow up! :)

So, what’s new with you?

Apr10

So much has happened since I posted in October.  I truly am sorry that I haven’t posted in 7 months.  Damn, that’s a long time!  So, let’s try to do this in a nut shell.

In October, I moved from my admin position to a Demobilization Assistant position.  Crazy hours and dealing directly with units made it very hard to post anything coherent.  Sandy happened on Halloween weekend.  The tree in my front yard came down and took out my landlord’s classic Mercedes and left us running on one leg, electricity wise, for two weeks.  Thank goodness for my friends that allowed us to show up once a day to shower and do laundry and make dinner.  They were awesome!  Fast forward to December 21 when my contract was cancelled and the 30 of us on the contract were told we were laid off.  Merry Christmas!  I got picked back up by the same company a week later. Happy New Year!  It was a horrible job and I’ll tell you more about that in another post.  Anyhoo, I got laid off from that position on 15 March.  I reconnected with an old high school friend, which was absolutely amazing!  He hasn’t changed a bit and I’m so glad he’s back in my life!  In the midst of all of this, I was trying to move to another place, which was a ton of drama as well.  I finally got moved in on Easter Weekend and the house is still a wreck cause I spent a week in D.C. goofing off for Spring Break.

That’s the high points in less than 10 seconds.  There’s more there, but it goes into another post.  In that time, I said goodbye to two friends due to their retirement and I’ll be saying goodbye to another at the end of next month.  Saying goodbye hurts and I’m tired of doing it.  I really need to get some civilian friends that don’t ever leave!

The boys are doing well.  Well, for the most part.  School is still a sticking point for my youngest, mostly cause he’s super lazy and it’s killing me.  They spent Spring Break with their father, which was good for all of us.

I hope that life has treated you well for the last 7 months.  I’m going to be trying to catch up on everyone’s posts, now that I have the time :)

Welcome back, everyone!  And for those of you that are new, Welcome!  I’m glad to have you here!

Please? Stay?

Apr9

Oh, Word Press Community, it’s been awhile.  And it wasn’t you.  It was me.  I allowed you to fall by the wayside because other things became more important.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that I just shunted you aside like a politician shunts aside a constituent that can’t help him get re-elected.

That wasn’t very nice of me.

Forgive me?

Oh, don’t turn away!  Please, don’t leave like this!  I can make it right with you, I promise.

I could give you all kinds of reasons why I left you for awhile.  I could say that I needed space, time to figure things out.  But that wouldn’t be all together true.

Honestly, life just got in the way.  I took on a new position at my job that was time consuming.  I got laid off from that job and picked up at another before getting laid off again.  The drama of the holidays was another reason why I wasn’t here.  And the drama of trying to find a new place?  Please, don’t even get me started.

But, I’ve come back.  I’ve come back contrite.  I’ve come back sorrowful and shamed that I stepped away from you.

I have missed you.  Badly.

Have you missed me?  Even a little?

You have?  See!  There is a chance for us.  There is a chance for us to reconnect and to make something beautiful in this relationship.  With my words and thoughts and your operating platform, we will make beautiful, lyrical children.

Please, come back?

Cause I’m here to stay.

Really? It’s just a damn game!

Oct1

When I was still married, I told everyone I had three children and that I was married to one.  I do believe that this story will illustrate the reason why I would say that.

My boys keep in touch with their father through video games that they play together on the XBox 360.  They have one game in particular, Minecraft, that they play together quite often.

Don’t ask me about the game.  I don’t play video games and I don’t particularly care to learn about them or the worlds or whatnot.  I purchase the games to keep my boys happy and give them a way to keep in touch with my ex.  Other than that, I really don’t play them.

Yesterday, my youngest was playing with this father on this game while I was in the kitchen doing laundry, baking for the week and watching football.  (Yes, I do watch football.  Peyton Manning is my fave player and I root for the Broncos simply for this reason.  Also, if the Eagles fell off the face of the earth, I certainly wouldn’t shed a tear.)

Well, I was getting ready to bake when I realized that I had no eggs.  Very hard to make brownies and gingerbread cake without eggs.  So, I hop in the car and run to the store for some eggs.  On the way there, I get a phone call from the ex.  The conversation went something like this:

Him: “Are you at home?”

Me: “No, I’m running to the store for eggs.”

Him: “When you get home, could you please tell your son to stop being an asshole?  He keeps on hitting me and everyone else in the game and he won’t listen to me.”

I actually laughed out loud at this.  Seriously.  Like totally chuckled.  Then I said:

“It’s a game.  What in the world are you so wound up about.  It’s a damn game. You’re 41.  Get over it.”

Him:  “Well, he isn’t being nice.”  (Yes, his voice had taken on a whiny tone)

Me:  “I’ll tell him when I get home.”

I get home and find out that they are no longer playing together.  According to my son, my ex had taken his girlfriend’s daughter’s part over his son’s.  I then got another phone call from the ex:

Him: “Will you take away his XBox, please?”

Me: “Why?”

Him: “Because I told him if he wasn’t nice, I’d take away his XBox and then he asked me how I would do that because I lived in Virginia.  Then he UNFRIENDED ME in the game!”

Me: “Um….(I’m trying very hard not to bust out laughing here cause he sounds like he’s tattling), I’ll talk to him about being disrespectful to you.”

I then hung up.  I didn’t take away the XBox but I did tell him that he couldn’t be disrespectful to his father.  And then I told him that he had better friend his father back on Tuesday, otherwise this next weekend (when he has the kids) is gonna be hard on everyone.

OK, I readily admit that I’m not a gamer.  I don’t understand how anyone can get that worked up over a damn game.  I don’t understand why I am getting a call from a 41-year-old man about a game that he is playing with a 12-year-old.  I mean, if the 12-year-old is being “mean,” then don’t play with him.  These are basic lessons that we learn as children.  How in the world did he forget them this late in life?  And why in the world are you tattling to me? 

No, it’s not OK that he disrespected him.  That he got in trouble for.  But I surely didn’t take away his XBox and I’m not going to over a damn game.

Mostly because that would be more a punishment for me than for him!