The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

One of my best childhood memories is indeed a strange one. My mom used to invite my teacher over for dinner once a year. Can you imagine? This was always one of the best nights of my school year. I remember so well the anticipation of it. Ma would tell me a few weeks in advance that she had invited Ms. So-and-so over for dinner and I would anxiously await the night. My mom would cook a special meal (usually Mexican food - but fancy stuff like enchiladas or something) and a special dessert. I remember more about the anticipation of the evening than I remember the actual evenings themselves. I remember mostly just staying quiet while the adults talked. And I vividly remember this feeling of, "My teacher is normal. She must eat dinner every night just like we do." I also remember being so happy that the teacher would know where I lived and what my parents were like. That somehow this would build a bond between us. I've wondered more than a few times why my mom did this. When I asked her one time she said something really amazingly smart like, "Well, what a kind way to welcome someone into your home and get to know more about them. And, what a kind way for them to know more about you. Sharing food together." Yes, isn't that true?

Can you imagine doing that now-a-days? Wouldn't it be weird? What would the teacher think? What would you say? Well, my kids had an experience the other night that - after it happened - has been the one occurrence in their short lives that I could remotely liken to what I experienced as a child. And, it has got me thinking about my BC (before children) life as a teacher and about my mother and how much she knew about life.

As a school fundraiser (because doesn't everything have to do with money now?) the teachers and administrators at my kids' school delivered pizza to families from our school that ordered pizza from a local pizza place. A portion of all money earned was donated to the school.

My kids anticipated this event like it was the Second Coming. It was funny. They wanted me to mark it on the calendar (which I did - because wouldn't it have been AWFUL to forget and actually cook dinner when we were getting pizza?) and they counted down for at least a week before the actual day. They took bets on who would deliver their pizza. Several times they giggled when asking me, "So, Ms. So-and-so - if she is our delivery person (insert wild laughter) will know where we live???" Followed by hysterical laughter again, chatting among themselves and sometimes belly-holding with the thought that someone from their school would know where they lived.

It took me back several years when I was a teacher in North Carolina and when I was an administrator in Texas. I, as a teacher and later as an administrator, made several home visits. And what an experience that was. I taught for several years before I did this and learned immediately what a better teacher I would have been if I had visited more children in their homes. Among other things, I certainly got an up-close look at extreme poverty. And if you don't know what that looks like and you are teaching extremely poor kids - you should. I saw things first-hand what I had only imagined in my head. And what a difference that made. I saw more things than I can list here - but just a few that top my list: houses so filthy that I was truly scared for the safety of the babies crawling around on the floor, adults opening the door in various stages of dress with the house reeking of drugs and other unsavory things, trailers with no electricity or running water, outhouses, houses with no flooring of any kind, the list goes on and on. Fortunately I also saw and met so many people trying really hard to make a loving, caring home for their precious children.

Why this silly fundraiser should bring back so many memories for me, I don't know and I've stopped caring because my thoughts have been so interesting (if only to me - which is usually the case ;o). When the ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL and my son's teacher delivered our pizza a few nights ago they could have hung the moon. My kids are still talking about it. "Mom, the assistant principal knows where we live!!!" And, what about my mom? Was she one smart lady way ahead of her time, or what?

I have to write this down

because it is so funny and I want to remember it later. ;o) Later as in - in a few weeks because that seems to be the length of my long-term memory nowadays.

During Christmas my kids have participated in a Christmas choir at our church. During this time they learn Christmas songs that are sung in our church during advent and Christmas. Some of them are songs that the average person might know (Silent Night, Oh, Come All Ye Faithful) and some of them are songs that the average person might not know - Stay Awake, Feliz Navidad.

So, the Stay Awake song is a catchy little tune whose words are very basic: Stay awake (clap, clap)! Be ready (clap, clap)! You do not know the hour that the Lord is coming! Stay awake! Be ready! The Lord is coming soon. Then it goes into a rousing Alleluia, alleluia, THE LORD IS COMING SOON.

Like I said, very catchy, kid-friendly tune. Usually this song is sung year round in my home when various things happen to remind the kids of the words. Well, the other night it is right after dinner and the kids are mulling around the kitchen - putting dishes in the sink, etc. and C says to everyone and no one, "MY FOOT IS ASLEEP!" As if on cue M and S simultaneously broke into a rousing rendition aimed directly at C's foot, "STAY AWAKE! BE READY! YOU DO NOT KNOW THE HOUR THAT THE LORD IS COMING!"

Ed nearly spit out the tea he happened to be swallowing and I laughed pretty dang hard.

Exercise - need I say more?

I think it's high time for a quick list. So, here it goes.

1. Thank God (he-he-he) for Sundays. He said rest and I am gonna do it. No exercise today, folks.

2. I don't like exercise. It does not make my body feel better. It makes my body hurt. And after a certain age (if you don't know the age - you are not there yet) it does not get any easier. I'm on day I Can't Remember and new areas of my body hurt daily. I always think to myself - oh, I've been doing this for a while now - I am going to feel great tomorrow. And, no. I wake up and I am still sore.

3. Exercise has made me consider taking up smoking. I am not joking here, but when I think or type this I do get the giggles.

4. If a genie came out of a bottle and granted me three wishes I have decided (since I started exercising seriously three weeks ago) I would wish for a toned, in-shape body with no exercise. AND the awesome part of that.....................................I'd still have TWO wishes left!!?? THAT'S a no-brainer. Guess when I thought THIS up............running my 45 minutes yesterday.

5. Everyone keeps telling me that eventually my appetite will "even-out." And by everyone I mean people that work-out and like it and are fairly in-shape. So, just by the nature of who this information is coming from - that means it probably won't happen to me. I am still eating like a horse. A horse that has been worked to a near death state.

6. Stepping (this is a type of aerobic exercise that involves a step - hence the name) is not what it used to be for me in high school. I almost killed myself trying to do steps last week. It would have been very, very funny had I not been - again - near death.

That's all I have for today. Six is a multiple of 10 in some countries. Stay fit, my friends. And if you can't stay fit - stay happy. ;o)

The Pig Will Die or The Loss of Innocence #1

WARNING: If you are weak at heart or an animal rights activist you may be seriously bothered and otherwise affected by the following post. Read at your own risk. No names or other changes have been made to protect the innocent. And....as any reader of my blog knows I love my mother with all my heart. This is in no way a condemnation of parenting, but rather a celebration of the loss of innocence and how it can come in unexpected bits and pieces along life's journey. ;o)

Location: Some small seemingly insignificant pueblo in Mexico.

Year: Somewhere between 4th and 7th grade. I'd like to think closer to 4th.

My ma asked me if I wanted to stay or go with her and Dona I-Can't-Remember-Which-Dona so we will call her who I know her to be - Dona Lolita's Grandma. I said with precision (a decision I will regret for some time), "Stay." So I watched as Dona Lolita's Grandma and my own ma disappeared in the rear view mirror into the pueblo in search of I believe some kind of rare chocolate.

A few minutes passed in which I watched in the rear view mirror the lazy happenings in this tiny village - quite satisfied (maybe even smug) with my smart decision to "stay." Men and women walking, children running, someone talking loudly, Mexican sun shining. Lots of colorful pretty tienditas with wide open passageways in place of actual doors.

Then I heard the unmistakable noise. A high pitched scream which I initially thought was a child being horribly disciplined? I jerked my head around so that I could see through the window rather than looking through the mirror. No child. Still I could hear the screaming. A few seconds later I witnessed a great commotion of grown men rounding the corner hovered over something that I could not yet see.

I honestly could not imagine what was happening, but something in my gut told me that this would not end well and that someone - possibly me - was about to be transformed. As I was trying to figure out what it could be - I saw the pig. I didn't see him all at once it was more in parts. From what I could figure - about six grown men were simultaneously pushing and pulling him latching on to various body parts to include ears, tail, hair, and legs.

Tears immediately sprung to my eyes as I struggled to figure out why these grown men would be pushing/pulling/torturing this obviously reluctant huge hog. They were forcing this pig somewhere down this busy village street. But, where? And why wasn't anyone else upset or even paying any attention for that matter? Unfortunately for me I was not observant enough to notice that one of these open air "stores" was actually a butcher shop and that things in small town Mexico were a little different from what I was used to.

In a matter of minutes the pig had been forced into the front of the butcher shop and that quickly he was, in fact, butchered. The pig scream sounds had reached a feverish indescribable pitch - like nothing I had heard before or have ever (thankfully) heard again. Then suddenly they stopped. (As my mother would later point out with a flat voice and hardly any expression, "Well, what did you think happened at a butcher shop?") I have blocked the butchering from my mind......mostly. I remember a sharp, huge machete looking knife that was swiftly and masterfully brought to the neck. After that I remember turning back around slowly (now fully in tears and not holding back in anyway from sobbing) and being completely surprised at how quickly the pig had been dismembered and the parts of its body hung from racks.....still bloody.

When Dona Lolita's Grandma and ma returned to the car minutes later I was dissolved in tears in the backseat unable to talk. Ma asked me what had happened in her Upset Voice. Dona LG was talking quickly and excitedly in Spanish. I explained to ma in between my sobs what had just happened. Mom patiently explained to Dona in Spanish what had happened. Dona snorted. Ma turned back to me and in her matter of fact way said, "Did you not see that it was a butcher shop?" As I looked back it was so clear and I felt so naive - how could I have missed all the blood and hanging animal parts??? I mumbled, "Well now I see." Ma calmly said as she started the car, "Well, what did you think happened at a butcher shop? After all, where did you think pork came from?"

Hello?...............................................

So, I am not sure what grief day I am on. It's got to be somewhere around Day 50. But this post is going to be an official "grief post" and in some ways a note to my sister. If you're sick of the drivel - catch me later.

Let me preface this by saying that usually I HATE to talk on the phone. Usually I consider phone conversations intrusive and a total and complete waste of time. There are several reasons I dislike them that I will not go into now - that is for another post. That being said, one thing I miss most about my ma is how on Tuesdays and Thursdays we would usually talk on the phone. More than a few Tuesdays or Thursdays during December I actually picked up the phone to call her before remembering that she would not be on the other end to talk to me. I would be momentarily sad, but then I would just have the conversation picturing her listening to me in her garden in heaven. And, if by slim chance you've read Alice Sebold's 'The Lovely Bones' this will resonant with you.

What was so great about mom and what I so miss is that something would happen to one of us and we would pick up the phone and call the other person. These were not monumental things. In fact, most times they were trivial - how cold was it there? It was TWENTY here. Is it raining there? It's pouring here (yes, you know old people are obsessed with weather and when an old person is your parent you become obsessed with weather, too). You'll never guess who I saw in HEB. Can you pray for so-and-so they are going through a really tough time. And on and on it went. Days changing to suit our schedules....but weeks upon weeks and years upon years.

When we would start a conversation like this sometimes it led to deeper and richer things - "a new phase in life is the preparation for death." "Reconciliation in the Catholic church has changed over the years." "Sometimes your participation in your child's education can be critical." Or sometimes it just stayed light and ended with a promise to call again later in the week. Either way I would always hang up the phone with an I love you and usually mom would end with a God bless you. It was never intrusive, it was always time well-spent, and it always made my day better no matter how good or bad my day was going.

Since late December one of my sisters has been staying with my dad as a caretaker/roommate. So, January is here and I have spoken to said sister on the phone now (I think) four times. Crazy. I don't think I've talked to her four times in a year in my whole life. Not that we don't get along or there's any bad blood (wow - I should get extra blog points for working that phrase in) - no skeleton in the closet. Just don't talk to her much on the phone. After all - talking on the phone is NOT one of my favorite things to do. ;o)

So, my first official day back to work was last Tuesday. I was furiously doing prints and she called. To be perfectly honest, at first I was a little frustrated (I am always running behind on virtually everything). So, I was a little surprised at how easily the conversation ebbed and flowed around us. It wasn't really effort. I had a lovely chat with her and when we hung up I felt more than a little strange. Throughout the conversation at times I almost couldn't listen because I was too busy picturing her in my dad's house talking to me just like ma used to talk to me. It was just weird. We hung up with me promising to call later on in the week and we talked about unimportant and quite important things. We laughed, we shared a few stories and we said I love you.

It made my heart feel good in a totally unexpected way. I have thought a lot about her this past week. I felt myself anticipating the next time we would talk on the phone. Will we talk on the phone every week? Will it be like mom and me? Will I want to call her with a random: How cold is it there? Raining? Can you pray for me? Probably not, and if not - I won't be disappointed. But, still I think I like where this is going. ;o)

Postscript: She called me again this morning......just as I was pressing "Play" on the work-out DVD. That in and of itself made me giggle and sigh in relief. But I also had to giggle at something she did that was SO mom. I think she may have had a written list of things to discuss with me. If not, she definitely had a mental list. Even thinking of it now I cannot wipe the smile from my face. It's something ma and I used to do because we both had/have terrible memories. We'd write down what we wanted to ask each other!

So........Yay! Now, I see in addition to possibly being my Mom Phone Stand In she has impeccable timing. ;o) love you LOTS, sissy.

Resolutions Shmesolutions

Well, just checking back in - three days into the New Year's resolutions. You may want to read my previous post as it is referenced in this post (or just muddle through confused which is basically my motto for life). I have learned a few things these past few days that I would like to share with you in the hopes that they will help you lead a less painful life and also help you keep your resolutions (if you were crazy enough to make any). So, here it goes:

I don't know what to call this list - will get back to that later.

1. When you ask "Santa" for an exercise video make sure you have all the equipment necessary to implement that video.
2. An in-shape, flexible, balanced body is one of those necessary things.
3. There are apparently several advantages to having a strong "core." And I am not talking apples, here baby.
4. When you do an exercise video for abs, sides, and butt prepare to not be able to shampoo your hair, put on deodorant, or sit for a while.
5. Food is a necessary evil.
6. Exercise gives you an appetite for all of the things that were taken off your diet due to the fact that you need exercise. This is a vicious circle which can only be broken by an eclipse of the moon.
7. Hummus although low in fat is high in yuck compared to artichoke jalapeno dip from Costco.
8. There are still Christmas cookies and ice cream in the freezer and they will find you when you are ravenous from your exercise video.
9. Your to-do list will be much longer in January than your to-be list (whoever wanted one of those in the first place???) because you have sat on your bum for two full weeks.
10. Don't be discouraged. After all I am ending on 10 and that is one of my resolutions! Yay me.

New Year's Resolutions 2010

1. I resolve not to resolve. End of post. He-he-he.

I actually do have some resolutions this year. I have decided to post a few just for fun. Some are for real. Some are just jokes. But, if you can't tell which are which........welcome to my world. ;o) So...here it goes. And what I like most about New Year's Resolutions is that just by their nature they are a list!

1. I resolve to start each day with a list....or at least a loose plan.
2. I resolve to at least finish one thing on said list.
3. I resolve to find the time to smell the roses each day and to be thankful each day.
4. I resolve to concentrate on my to-be list more than or at least as much as my to-do list.
5. I resolve to watch what I eat. Knowing full well that this may mean watching fat go directly from my fork to my mouth. ;o)
6. I resolve to pay my bills on time.
7. I resolve to be kind, patient, and respectful with my husband and kids. And I resolve to go away when I cannot be kind, patient, and respectful. I know what you are thinking.........I'm going to be gone a lot in 2010. ;o)
8. I resolve to at least use the exercise DVD I got for Christmas enough to know what I should be doing on a regular basis.
9. I resolve to end my lists in multiples of 10.
10. I resolve to begin my resolutions during the month of January, or at least before December.