Memories of Thanksgiving

Ah.......Thanksgiving! It congers up a Norman Rockwell scene in the mind of many folks, but memories, real memories are not made up of Norman Rockwell perfection, but rather the joyous memories of imperfections.

I love the write about my Mom. My Mom was a really incredible lady. Not because she was a perfect Mother, but because she was strong, she was smart and she tried so damn hard to make it through a life that was anything but perfect. I like to think I'm like my Mom.

As I think back on Thanksgivings past I have to think of my Mom, Cookie Wright. Can I digress for a moment and tell you, your life is an interesting experience when your Mom's name is Cookie.

Despite her shortcomings, my Mom valued family tradition and no matter if the house was full or if it was just her and I, she always cooked Thanksgiving dinner. Cookie wasn't a good cook, but she tried.

My favorite Thanksgiving memory was one which only she and I shared. Although I have three siblings, I am the youngest by far so much of my adventure with Cookie was solo and may I say memorable.

In the fall of 1987, I was a freshman at Culver-Stockton College in Canton Missouri and that was also the year that Cookie switched jobs and moved to Mountain Home Arkansas. She moved over the Thanksgiving weekend to a tiny lake house on Norfork Lake. I drove from Canton to Mountain Home to spend the Holiday with her. It was day two in the new house. What Mom failed to realize is, the stove in the house was powered by propane and the propane tank was nearly empty. When it came time to cook Thanksgiving dinner, that tank was bone dry - we had no stove, no oven.

My Mom was ever resourceful and would not be talked into going out to eat. It was just the two of us but she was going to cook a Thanksgiving meal. I learned that Thanksgiving in 1987 that a Turkey can be cooked in a microwave and pumpkin pies will cook in a toaster over. I learned that a Mom will do what she has to do to make a dinner for a child who would not come to appreciate her efforts until after her death. I learned that family tradition is worth something. Most of all it was reinforced for me that Moms really are magic!

I have spent my adult life as a Mother trying to make the holidays perfect for my children. I do things a bit differently than Cookie did. This year, my house is not perfectly clean this night before Thanksgiving, I haven't even begun to cook and I'm not even stressed out. This year, I'm taking a page from Cookie's playbook. I'm going to love my kids more than anything in this world, I'm not going to expect anything to be perfect and I'm going to try my best but it may not work out "just so". I want my kids to remember how much I love them, not how the turkey tasted in 2009 and I think that will be just fine.

The American Woman in Today's Economy

It is true that most American families will spend less this Christmas season than in past years, the gifts that are purchased will have more thought, more meaning and more effort than ever before. Considering the Christmas shopping duty and task customarily falls to the female it is she who use her expertise to take this year’s more limited resources and transform them into meaningful holiday memories. As these holiday memories begin to take shape in her mind, she will pull her family together in a way which may have been missing in past years when the money flowed more freely and the gift were abundant. All in all this economic crisis can have a silver lining as America’s matriarchs reach into their bag of tricks to make sure each and every member of her family feels the magic of the holiday season rather than the sting of the economic shortfalls. As with most things in most societies, it will be the female who brings together individuals, eases fears and eases her family and community into a new situation. Once there is comfort in the family and community, fears will begin to ease and as fear diminishes, pocketbooks will once again begin to open. You see, economists can use facts and figures, charts and graphs but if you completely take the human element out of the equation, all that analysis will be for not. It is the true strength of the American Woman who can help transform economic tragedy into an opportunity for growth.
When the American Woman faces a challenge, she will almost always not only rise to the occasion, but she will make the necessary difference to change the world.

Adventures with Boys

"Hey Mom, what do you think is big enough to reach the roof?" The 12 year old asks

"What? Why?" I respond

"Because my football is in the gutter and need to get it" he responds

"You are not climbing on the roof" I say

"Why not?" he asks

"Really?" I respond

"You just don't know how good my balance is" he says as walks away disgruntled at being thwarted once again by his over protective mother.

Just another normal day raising my boys. I talk a lot about raising my boys when I have indeed managed to raise a girl to adulthood. The fact is she just never asked to climb on the roof I have been spoiled.

Cleaning up after boys is always a grand adventure. My middle son loves snakes and it is a constant battle in the house as to why Mom just won't let him get a live one of his very own. He does have quite a collection of replica snakes, some are quite real looking. There was the time I made his bed, shook out the comforter and froze in place when a replica fake snake fell onto my foot. It took a good five seconds for me to come to the realization that the snake was indeed fake.

Laundry time is another adventure. Today a 1950's silver pickup truck came out of the washing machine shiny clean after it got the deluxe wash in my front loader. The cleanest matchbox in town!

My boys have their own TV area. When I was a kid I was lucky to have a phone in my room at age 16, spoiled by some standards and I sure as heck did not have my own TV. The kid's TV area in my house has cinema type recliner seating, an all leather coffee table/trunk and a 52 inch HD TV hooked up to a Wii and cable. When we built this room we envisioned hours of family time taking place but the fact is, video games and SpongeBob Square Pants took over.

I cleaned that room today, as I do about every third day. Here is a list of finds that awaited me.

Candy Wrappers
An empty Gatorade bottle
A tiny skateboard truck
A tiny skateboard missing a truck
One googly eye
One very crusty sock (found behind the chairs)
Several fall leaves
A lollipop stick
One empty milk cup
One Wii remote under the chair
Lots of dirt from some body's shoe
Three pairs of tennis shoes (one particularly stinky)

When I hit the googly eye I just thought it all was very funny. I thought at that moment that there will come a time in my life when there will be no chance of every finding a random googly eye on my floor. Crusty socks will be but a memory and candy wrappers will always land in the garbage.

I remember when they were all babies and I was cautioned that I would miss the days of diapers and crying and tiny clothes and socks. I have to be honest, I don't miss diapers but I do miss tiny socks and first smiles, a coos and snuggles.

I suppose I will also miss dirty boy smell covered with Axe spray cologne. I will miss the excitement of seeing the bugs one of them just caught or the goal in a soccer game but by that time there will be new first and grand adventures to catch and see and experience. Until then I will continue to document their crazy behavior and all the googly eyes I find.

The Question of Marriage

It is all around at the moment. It may be my age, perhaps it is just the time when couples who have been just that, a couple for a while find that maybe coupleness isn't for them any longer.

It seems as if I know an extraordinary number of couples who are either in the middle of a split, verge of divorce or who have just gotten a divorce. Right of passage some might say, nothing is forever some other may muse. I have noticed a trend in the relationship breaks of which I know.

I have heard the story of men living their life as normal as ever when one day it seems like out of no where their wife announces she is done, finished, wants him out. The poor guy stands there in shock. He wonders what happened to his happy fairytale life he thought he was living. Maybe it was not perfect, but he was happy - he wonders what happened.

Giving this some thought I have come up with some theories. Maybe today's late 30's early 40's women are experiencing midlife crisis in record numbers and looking for excitement. Maybe now that women are fully entrenched in what was once considered the man's world of corporate America they feel that they too are entitled to the little thing called midlife crisis where they walk away from responsibilities and into the arms of a younger man and a fancy sports car. But these women don't seem to be reaching for younger men and fancy cars. They seem to be reaching for older men who offer more stability or remain solo.

Then it occurred to me that maybe these women were just tired of being left holding the bag. Tired of the lies of society, the lies of the men they married. I'm not saying these men lied on purpose, but seriously, what promises were made and what is the reality. These are answers which may never been found because each individual case is different.

I know so many women who work full time, raise kids, do homework, cook dinner, attend extra-curricular activities, and find no time for themselves. When this becomes too much to bear, and it eventually will in all but the most perfect of wives they will have only one place to turn the blame and it is going to be the husband.

I'm not blaming men, I think it is the fault of women that they are so dependent. In our quest to become independent, we found out independence by making men dependent. If there was a happy medium happiness could possibly last for 70 years. I don't know what the secret to a lasting marriage is. I hope someday to be able to tell you as I traverse the water of matrimony myself, working now on my second decade in this union.

I have only been thinking about these issues lately because I know so many people going through the horror of divorce. I'm not personally and since I know one of my biggest fans is my husband I will say I'm not planning on it.

I just know one thing, don't think your wife is super woman, don't put too much on her and don't act like a baby when things don't go your way. Grow up, put on your big boy pants, notice her, appreciate her and do more than your part and then maybe, just maybe your marriage will last.

This blog is totally from a woman's perspective and there are always different perspectives on every issue and this is just one and it has nothing to do with me personally. I have seen a pattern around me and maybe I'm trying to figure it out so it does not happen to me.

I can say to husbands a few things. If you are tired, bet the bank your wife is twice as tired but she will still make sure the lights are off, the doors are locked and lunches are packed before she goes to bed. She is still waiting for the time the responsibilities of the house are optional. She is waiting for her carefree moments. You might not realize how much you depend on her to make things right and if you "feel" like it you might do what needs to be done. A family and a marriage is more than going to work each day - everyone does that and if you are not even doing that, you are lucky to be married at all!

Again I say, these are observations and that is all. Agree, don't agree. Maybe you have some ideas as to why so many women are abandoning ship after years of marriage. It is an interesting cultural study to me. Sorry I couldn't add sarcasm, I could have but it seemed harsh.

Nothin' Funny

I can usually call upon my sick sarcastic humor to pull me through nearly anything.

When I crashed my car this week I joked about it being a matchbox car. When I feel trapped by the current economic situation I joke about the state of politics. If my house is a mess I make sarcastic fun of the boys who create the disaster.

With my youngest of four into day four of some type of flu I have no sarcasm, no humor. My heart is aching for my little man. This is the one who is so very full of life, always on the move, a constant source of fun comments and adorable reactions.

For the past four days he has not had much to say. Even if he had the energy to exercise his wit and 7-year-old wisdom we would not hear him because he has no voice. A small little squeak is the sound we hear when he tried to talk. Couple this weak voice with very dark circles and big blue eyes and you have a recipe for worry on the part of a Mom.

I have never been one of those over-reactive parents. I understand for the most part how a virus works. I know the doctor will tell me to treat the symptoms, keep him hydrated and have him rest. There are no antibiotics to fight a virus so it is a waiting game.

Last night went well for him. He slept. I say I'm not over-reactive but I am cautious. I have had him sleeping with me and his Dad has been sleeping in his recliner. Last night I volunteered for the sofa to let his Dad get some reasonable sleep but keep an eye on my baby. They both slept. This was good.

The night before I was not so lucky. The fever would not go down, he was restless and miserable. He was sweating and when he did sleep he would wake terrified by something I am told are called Night Terrors. At times he would look at me as if he didn't even know who I was. I won't go into Night Terrors here but suffice it to say they are a terrifying experience for child and parent but for the most part harmless in the long run.

Today I will continue to comfort, treat symptoms and do all of the things a Mother does. The fact is people get sick, kids get sick and we recover but it does not make the journey any easier, no matter how many times you have done it.

It is what a Mom does

I was jolted from sleep by the words a Mother does not want to hear.

"Mom, I'm going to be....."

That sentence never concludes with words, just vomit. Once you have cleaned vomit up and soothed a sick child you are pretty much awake.

I sit, I watch, I listen. It is what a Mom does at 12:30 am when her sick and feverish child lays beside her. Anticipating each movement, each breath, analyzing each movement.

He is awake too. Two days of fever induced lethargy has left him rested. He is bored, but sick. The Tylenol has kicked in so the fever is diminishing, yet again. He feels better as the medicine masks the symptoms of his small body and army of an immune system attacking the virus that has invaded.

This is not the first time I have sat, watched and waited through the night. It most likely will not be the last. Sleep for a Mother with a sick child is not an option. It is easier now that he and his siblings are older. I do not suffer from constant sleep deprivation as I did when they were babies. I can easily sit and watch and wait the night away.

The stillness of the house is comforting in it's own way. It is not often it is quiet and still. It gives opportunity to reflect.

As I care for him in his illness with the love and kindness of my heart, he will in turn grow to give and show love to others. It is the cycle we hope to fulfill. Each has his or her own part and sacrifice to make in the process. Mine is to stand Motherly guard as a nurse and a comfort. His Father, although sleeps, does so restlessly in less than ideal comfort. It was his Father who was displaced from his own bed to allow my sitting and watching and waiting. I could easily have pulled up a chair in the child's room but I did not. At least I have the comfort of my own bed should I find sleep tonight.

It is so indescribable, the love a Mother feels for her child. When they are hurt you mend, when they are sick you tend. Sometimes all you can do is lay your head down and pray for help and strength. It is at times like this that I think of Mothers who have children who are seriously ill. Not just a school yard virus but an illness so powerful as to leave you powerless. The hours of sitting and watching and waiting must be overwhelming at times.

How terrifying it is to make the decisions of when to reach out for help and when the sail on alone. Do I bring him to the doctor, do I wait it out, will this progress to a point where it becomes an emergency because the wrong decision was made. These things all float through my mind as I sit, and I wait and I watch.

Each cough makes me jump, each breath is noted. I reach to him - is he hot? Does he feel cold? Is he comfortable.

My watching and waiting may be coming to an end for this evening. His fever seems to have fully subsided and he has fallen back into slumber. I will close my eyes and try to sleep and at some point I will. It is with hopefulness I pray I wake to my energy filled chatterbox tomorrow, but if I do not, I will sit, I will watch and I will wait. It is what a Mom does.

Halloween or Whores on Parade

When I was a kid I LOOOOVED Halloween. The idea of dressing up and walking around the neighborhood collecting sweet treats with my friends was nearly as good as Christmas. I longed for the afternoon my Mom would take me down to the Yellow Front department store and I would cruise the Halloween section looking for my costumes. In my day your costume came in a square cardboard box with a cellophane top. Inside that precious box was a plastic apron and a mask. The mask covered your whole face and had two slits for your eyes, two holes near your nose and a slit at your mouth. Many a tongue was cut on that mouth slit because little kids couldn't resist sticking their tongue through the opening made for breathing.

One year I was Barbie with my pink plastic apron that tied in the back and my mask with Barbie's face printed on the front. My favorite costume - I wore it for two years was Frankenstein. Again, I had a green plastic apron tied in the back and a mask with the obligatory holes in it for limited sight and breathing.

When I got a bit older we made the costumes. There was the year I was a mummy, wrapped in gauze from head to toe and of course the ghost made of a white sheet. I think I may have been a vampire once as well.

Let us fast forward 20+ years. Now Halloween costumes range from the grotesque to the strange and less is apparently more.

Any other time during the year you would have to visit the local "adult" store to get the kind of costumes you can find during the month of October in every neighborhood department store. High heels, stockings, short shirts and barely there tops are passed off as "Minnie Mouse", "Sexy Pirate" or "Wench."

Witches are not even sacred on this most sacred of witch days. "The Sexy Witch" is now the vogue. I'm sorry but Witches in my day were not sexy. A witch came in two varieties, the green kind with a big nose, a mole with a hair and a cackle or the good witch, like Glenda from the Wizard of Oz with her flowing gown and her sweet red cheeks and cherry lips. Now we have "Sexy Witch" with all her major parts hanging out and high heels.

Even little girl costumes are out of line. Each year I am amazed at how many Mothers allow their 10 to 12-year old girls dress in lingerie and walk around the neighborhood asking for candy - really, is that what it appears they are really after?

Boys are not immune either. The bloodier and more gory the better. My boys want fake blood running down their face and knives and sickles in their hands. Each boy wants to out due the other with gruesome and scary.

Remember when it was just funny to put on your Mom's robe, paint your face with cold cream and put roller in your hair and go trick or treating as "a crazy housewife?"

I must have been busy doing something else when Halloween become Whore-o-ween but I'm not sure I understand where this is going. I do know there are going to be some very confused little boys who grow up wondering why Minnie Mouse had all her business hanging out on Halloween or why those nurses Breasts seem to be jumping out of her top.

Dressing up is fun, being sexy is fun but dressing up in lingerie should not be for public viewing unless you are in a profession which also allows for public access.

If you are searching for a costume for your party this year ladies, come on over. I will give you two bandaids, a G-string, an apple and a red bow for your hair and you can go as Snow White.