Tagged Twice, So I Gotta ...

Besides, it looks like fun (yes, I do have a perverted view of fun, why do you ask?)....oh, and thanks, Don and Jynx.

Three screen names that you've had: hftr, HereForTheRide, Bickett

Three things you like about yourself: my eyes, my intelligence, my honesty

Three things you don't like about yourself: my current physical condition (read body), my insecurity, my response to stressful situations (pissy and crying or eating everything that doesn't move ... or doesn't move quickly enough)

Three parts of your heritage: Scot; Irish; German

Three things that scare you: death, something happening to my kids, heights

Three of your everyday essentials: Diet Dr. Pepper, hugs from my kids, chocolate (oops, how'd that sneak in here)

Tree things you are wearing right now: Sweater, socks and khakis

Three of your favorite songs: Death Came A Knockin', The Sheperd's Wife, Rocky Road to Dublin

Three things I want in a relationship: Respect, trust, and the love thing

Two truths and a lie: I miss riding my bike, I love watching my kids play soccer, I believe there is a job out there that could make me happy

Three things you can't live without: my family, my car, my dvds (sad, I know)

Three places you want to go on vacation: Russia, Antartica, China

Three things you just can't do: Bowl, golf, not worry

Three kids names: Katherine, Sarah, Seth

Three things you want to do before you die: I'll go with the ever popular get published; wget back to my pre-pregnancy weight; be at peace with myself

Three celeb crushes: John Cusack, Richard Dean Anderson, Lenny Kravitz

Three of your favorite musicians: Kate Rusby, Seamus Egan, Sam Philips

Three physical things about the opposite sex that appeals to you: eyes, voice, smile

Three of your favorite hobbies: Photography, biking, cult tv series

Three things you really want to do badly right now: Go to bed; win the lottery; exercise

Three careers you're considering/you've considered: Archeology, English Teacher, Trust fund baby

Three ways that you are stereotypically a boy: FOOTBALL!! Hate shopping; play computer games

Three ways that you are stereotypically a girl: Self-doubting, emotional, want everyone to get along

Three people that I would like to see post this meme: Mo, hatgirl, and Izza

Here an Idea, There an Idea ...

Just read Don's post about where his ideas come from and it got me thinking about my own writing. I just realized that most of my ideas come from unexpressed frustration. The first thing I ever attempted was due to my frustration at church, at the shallow hypocrisy of it all ... mostly in myself. The next thing was due to my frustration at work, at the inability to make a connection with most of my coworkers and the realization of how easy it was to hide on the internet. The latest is based on my frustration with corporate America, how manipulative those in control are. Wow, am I a sad case or what?

I guess I write more because I have to than I realize. I think it helps me work through situations that I cannot control and probably cannot get out of. I won't stop going to church because I want my kids raised in a church environment, and in spite of everything, I still believe. I know that I can search forever and not find a church that fits me, so I go to the one I'm currently going to. Doesn't make it any less frustrating. I work because I like the money (yeah, I need it to a certain extent, but really, it's because I grew up with little money and I like that I don't have to worry about it - so long as I still have my job ... selling my youth [or should I say sold] for security). I can't stop seeing things the way I do, and for the most part, I can't change them, but at least I can work them out in my mind by writing about them. I guess that's why it really doesn't matter if I ever send out anything to be published. I need to settle the world/make sense of it somehow, and this is how I do it. I guess I'm pretty cracked, but it's better than going postal, right?

Halloween Pet Peeves

Sit down and let granny tell you a little story. When I was a young'un, back in the days of the dinosaur, we used to make our own costumes. We'd then go door to door in our own neighborhood (this was before the razorblade-in-the-apple scare), and the neighbors would try and guess who we were (this was back in the days when masks weren't considered safety hazards that cut down your peripheral vision). Surprisingly, our neighbors actually knew the kids in the neighborhood, and could make a fair guess. By the time you were in fifth or sixth grade, you graduated from trick-or-treat night (this means you didn't go out for the once-a-year candy grab).

Flash forward to last year. Well past the due date for trick-or-treating, I get to hand out candy. I dress the young ones in hideously overpriced costumes with no masks and dad takes them out. I know about 5 of 60 kids that come to our door over the next two hours. None of them introduce themselves. Few bother to say thank-you. Then we get the teenagers who don't even bother to dress up and just come for the candy. I harass them a bit but still give out the candy. They respond by trying to steal our pumpkins (guess they didn't like the harassment). Thankfully, hubby (who thinks Jerome Bettis is a wee little man) is home and chases them off. Happy Halloween, huh?

I'm sorry, but I think there should be rules for Halloween - the first of which is if you don't know the name of the people you are visiting, you shouldn't go to that house. Barring that, you should at least live within a 1 mile radius of the place. If you don't say thank-you, you should be required to return the candy immediately (as a side note, my husband mentioned he got a ton of comments on how nice it was to hear thank-yous - our kids have been civilized at least that much ... in fact, the younger girl thought they were going out visiting - she wanted to pet everyone's dogs and carry on conversations with the people). And this is the biggie - if you are old enough to drive, you are too old to go trick or treating. 'nuff said.

All's Quiet on the Eastern Front

Well, no more updates from the teacher on my daughter. Of course, the fact that the other kid has not been in school for a week may have something to do with it, but I'll take what I can get. Went to my first Parents Association meeting last night. Last year they held them during the day so I couldn't attend. Very interesting. Let's just say that I now understand more clearly than ever the differences between a public school and a private school.

When my older girl was in public school, I went to every meeting and ended up being an officer on the board - mainly because no one else wanted to. Their major concern was the upcoming skating parties. Blech. My husband promised to take on some other heinous task if I would just go to the meeting so he didn't have to. Flash forward to last night. First of all, I wasn't drafted for any position on the board (definitely to the good). They had the upper school college counsellor present to the group. That's right, a school that has a graduating class of about 30 max has its own college counsellor (compare this to one counsellor for all needs for a class of 600 at one of the local public schools). Apparently, she starts sending out information in the 7th grade, and has her first meeting with the families in 8th to plot out the kids' next four years of school. Junior year, everyone is required to take a class about what college they want to attend. She helps the kids and their parents pick out a couple of schools, then she researches them for the families. The school submits and tracks your application. They work with your on your essays and recommendation letters, and even have mock interviews in front of real college recruiters. It's like geek nirvana. I just wish I had all of this when I was graduating from high school. What's really cool is that they aren't really interested in sending the kids to Ivy League schools for the sake of sending them to Ivy League schools. The opinion is that undergraduates get screwed at name schools, and it's better to wait until you're going for an advanced degree. It's just so impressive.

I am getting dumber

And it's scaring me. It seems like more and more, I have conversations where I just can't seem to locate pertinent facts until much, much later. Case in point - this morning, I was talking about the King Tut exhibit that is touring the US. I really want to see it because it took the personal intervention of Egypt's president to get it out of the country. Who's that? Er...um...Sadat? No, no, no, that's the guy who was in charge when Camp David happened (another name I couldn't come up with over the weekend). Er...um...not Nasser... Begin? No, no, no, that was Israel. It took me a good 20 minutes to come up with Hosni Mubarak. No big deal you say? Just the latest in a long line of not being able to remember stuff, says I. I used to blame it on having kids, but now I'm convinced I'm just losing brain cells somehow. They must leak out of my ears when I sleep. The sad thing is that I don't really forget stuff, I just remember it out of order. Know where Sadat came from? I was talking to my husband about Jimmy Carter on Friday and I couldn't remember the leaders involved in the Camp David Peace Accords. I finally come up with the answer today - when I'm trying to remember the current President. Ay-yi-yi-yi. Should I start saving for my room at the home yet?

Mean? My Daughter?

Had an interesting couple of days last week. It all started when my older girl came home and told me she wanted to tell me something the Spanish teacher told her. She seemed very proud. I told her to just say it, but she said she didn't want to say it in front of her sister. Needless to say, this made me insanely curious. Turns out the teacher told her something to the effect that she couldn't believe she was so sweet when her sister was so mean.

Mean? My daughter? Knock me over with a feather. I was stunned. I mean, the girl is 4 years old - what could she have done in the two hours a week she had Spanish to cause the teacher to call her mean? Yeah, the teacher was totally unprofessional, but still ... mean? My daughter? As a parent you try so hard to raise your kids to be "nice". Very few people want their kids to be the school yard bully, yet somebody has to be right? But my kid? I fought with myself, half stunned and half in denial. How could we have been so blind?

Next step, of course, was to call her regular teacher. Turns out she has been having trouble with one of the girls in her class. Per the teacher, my daughter and this other girl are the two oldest kids in the class, and they bump heads frequently. I know of this other girl - she's basically a queen b in training (I know, I know, horrible thing to say about a 5 year old, but there you are). In talking to another parent, she said her daughter didn't like this girl because she acted one way in front of grown-ups and another way when no one was looking. Apparently, my daughter wasn't about to let this girl have her way (my daughter can be rather bull-headed). She even started being obnoxiously "nice" to the girl - sitting next to her and smiling at her (you know the way ... in case you don't, consider when I asked my daughter if this is how she would want to be treated, she said no). Part of me is concerned that I'm shaping the story the way I want to see it to make my daughter look good. I don't think so, but still...

Anyway, we're working through the issue with her. But it made me wonder, how nice should we teach our children to be? In their class, they are told everyone is their "friend". Well, I don't know about you, but if somebody takes things from me and pushes me, they aren't my friend, no matter what anyone else says. How do you get this across to a 4 year old? How do you teach them to be nice but not to be a doormat? I have to confess there is a small part of me that is proud of her for sticking up for herself. Does that make me a bad mom?

Just hope I'm not raising the schoolyard bully ...

Tales of Weekends Past

Well, we survived the soccer tournament. The girls seemed to have fun and actually won a game (their first win of the season). The net result is that it made me even more grateful for my daughter's coach. She was the only female coach in their bracket, and in my mind, was utterly fantastic in how she worked with the girls. She yelled only to get the ref's attention for a substitution or to remind the girls to position themselves correctly. She was firm but kind. She never bitched out any of the kids, and they all felt like a million bucks by the time they left that afternoon. Compare that to some of the other coaches. Some teams had two or three men yelling at them, telling them to do this, do that in real nasty voices. I just really don't think that's necessary at this age and talent level. It certainly didn't get any better performance out of the kids.

Oh, and I did end up buying Robots for the girls as a treat. All in all a good, but tiring weekend.