Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Gander

For someone who has for over 30 years thrived on conflict, I have found in the last few years that when I feel angry or sad or scared, that reading just a few pages in a Buddhist book makes me automatically see things in a better light. I have no idea why, but it does, every time. I instantly become nicer to everybody around me, if even just for the rest of the day.

I smile at somebody random on the street corner.
I let 4 cars go in front of me leaving the pick up line at school.I see the humor in the ketchup/salsa stained shirt Bec has on that looks like he just ate a kitten.

I don't know why, but just reading kind words works for me. Something else works for you. Somebody else was born being nice to everybody and never says a bad word about anybody.

I have yet to meet that person.

She may not exist.

I am not Buddhist, but I try to follow a Buddhist philosophy. I am thankful that I have discovered an outlook on life that makes sense to me and helps me be a better person.

I used to be defensive when people questioned me on religion. Recently though, it has failed to really get my gander up. You do whatever you need to do to live your life as a decent human and I'll do the same.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Wonderful Imperfection

I truly wish I found it easier to look at each new day as an adventure rather than a chore. Who really wants to look back at their life and realize that it all just seemed like work? I don't want to feel like this but I do.

I know I will regret the day when all my kids are grown and gone (which will still be forever, I know). When I look at Jack now with his pride over his three armpit hairs and think to myself that in a just a few years he'll be graduating from high school, I want to hug him and hold his hand and tell him that when he was a baby, we babied him just as we are doing Maeve.

No one but me and my good friend, Marzi, will ever take notice if my floors are unswept. Who gives a you-know-what that my neighbors can see the Lookout Mountain sized laundry pile growing on the couch?

I want to make a better effort to make eye contact with my kids regardless of my exhaustion level, so they will be sure I am actually listening to them. If they grow up feeling that they got shafted because I selfishly wanted five kids, I think my heart my break.

I realize I am harder on myself than anyone else could ever be. I can't be the "perfect" mother. No mother is. Everbody's baby shoots a mustard cannon up the back at some point.

I'm thinking that maybe being a perfect mother means striving to be imperfect.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Tie One On McClendon

I realized this weekend that I am Ole. That's what my Uncle June used to call Old. I was a little kid but I believe he meant that Ole was older than Old. And Ole is what I feel like. I went to a bar with Heather "tie one on" McClendon on Saturday night to drink for disaster relief. She is from Ringgold and a downtown pub pledged to give part of it's proceeds to benefit Ringgold tornado victims. I love to drink for a good cause, you know.

So, Heather was hell-bent to tie one on and she took me down with her. But let me tell you, I now hate bars. I cannot believe I am saying that, but this ole party-girl is just that, Ole. The smoke. The friggin'-A loud music. I have enough loudness in my life with the kids to want to go have my eardrums blow up.

So, I think the next day-Mother's Day-that I am ole, and a tad hungover, that I am okay being ole. I am GLAD to be Ole. I would much rather sit in the yard drinking a Newcastle (which is less than $6 bucks a pop) and be able to watch the offspring and hear my friends rather than wake up with smoky-black boogers the next day.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Roll With It

There are many reasons being back in school is good for me:


1. it helps my brain feel less rotten
2. bragging rights (I have to be honest)
3. lifelong learning, truly.


Lifelong Learning, whether this came first from old Mortimer Adler (you CSASers) or the ALA (American Library Association) or someone else, I don't know or care. Because of a school reading, today I was reminded of something I shouldn't have needed reminding about.


My reading dealt with ethics, traditions, morals, values..and judgement. A good friend of mine said once that I was one of the most moral people she knew, knowing I was totally irreligious. That has meant alot to me, yet I have let her down in the worst way and for that I apologize.


How I raise my family, the decisions I make for them will be different from the decisions other parents make for their families. And that's okay. I needed a good reminding that we are not all the same. We all do things a little differently and need different things. That's what makes life interesting, fun and challenging.


I don't have to understand why people do things cause I am certain people wonder why the hell I do many of the things I do. I just need to roll with it and not dwell on it cause it's a waste of time.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Taking Care of Me

You would think after four kids, I would recognize the power of rest, but after Shifty (Maeve's nickname due to shifty-from-the-corner of her eyes look) arrived, the Fitzsimmons have slowed down, not at all.

And I know, as most other mom's know, that if Mommy is tired (and thus bitchy) the whole fam damnily suffers.

As a kid and young(er) mother I could not understand how on earth my grandfather, Grancha, could fall asleep sitting straight up in his recliner. Now, four weeks postpartum, it's an every night occurence if I dare plop down on the couch to even try to catch a DVRed Daily Show.

I could be asleep by nine most nights if I tried, but like Bec at naptime, I'm afraid I'll miss something. I feel like I've earned a few hours of relaxation, and I have, to do whatever, but what I need to to do, honestly is to sleep.

Rachel Maddow will still be spewing beautiful liberal bias tomorrow night.

I would have a much better attitude in the a.m. and would enjoy my day more if I tried to get an extra hour of sleep a night. I could spend time conscious with Poor Andy over coffee rather than him just looking at me, asleep on the couch with drool creeping down my face.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Cancellations

I am trying hard not to be upset that my mother cancelled coming this weekend for a second time. It's not surprising for 2 reasons.

(1.) They had some snow and the roads are slick.
(2.) We rarely have anyone from my family come visit us.

To lay it all out, here goes.

I very rarely had anyone come to any events when I was in school. I was smart and athletic and alone.  

I'm only pity-partying a little here.

My mother took me to college, dropped me off and left. Didn't even spend the night. That very first night in Knoxville I ended up in the ER with a 104 fever. Luckily I had relatives in town who could help me.

In the 4 years I was in Knoxville, my mother came only one other time to visit which was for the sole purpose of not really visiting me but to see if I was living with Andy.

I'll leave that one hanging since my step dad is on FB.

No I won't.

Of course I was living with Andy. I moved in with him a week after I met him. Big deal. It was the best decision I ever made.

I also called home every day to my mother and every few days to my father. Why? To keep them from checking up on me?

No, because I cared. And that's not me trying to seem good, that's honestly it. I cared about my family. And just until recently I called my mom several times a week. I am so busy and tired that I don't call as often but oddly, even before the 21st century, phone calls were able to be made in both directions, not just one.

Shocker.

She is very uninvolved in my kids' lives. She has been here once in the last 6 months. She didn't make it to a single baseball game, swim meet or cross country race.

I have had THE hardest pregnancy. Among other things, I had vertigo and thought I had a brain tumor, for goddsake, and did she once ever even offer to come help me, with the kids or anything else?

Ummm..that would be a negative.

I try to understand and have made excuses for years.

My dad treated her like crap.
She was a single mother.
She has depression.
Etc.

But I can't any more.

I am a mother almost 5 times over and regardless of the differences in our upbringing, our marriages, whatever, being a mother means being a mother. It doesn't mean constantly making excuses to make your life easier.

Sorry.

I cannot IMAGINE not going to the boys' games. Not helping with their homework. Not reading books to them.

Some days it takes a little more (or a lot more) effort than others to make yourself get on your hands and knees to build a train track. But you do it despite the fear that the terrible sciatica that has kept me from doing most anything for 10 days doesn't render me unable to get back into a standing position.

Just like you visit your kid in college for reasons other than to make sure that your kid is living the way you think (and God thinks) is the right way. You do it because you love them. And hope they are safe.

Is that why she doesn't come visit any more often than she does?

That she doesn't approve that we aren't raising our kids the way she would? Just disregard the fact that my kids are well-behaved, well-adjusted and nicer than so many of the kids who "go to church".

I am very interested in Buddhism.

Don't even attempt to bring the Buddha up in front of her. That's the same thing as saying we are devil worshippers because, obviously, that's what atheists are. Devil worshippers.

The problem there lies in the fact that atheists don't believe in the devil either. I believe in me and I know that with effort and time, I can be an even better, stronger person. And that can come only from within myself.

So now I've ranted.

What I should do is just call her and say, "You know what. I know I shouldn't be upset that you are cancelling because I know the roads are slippery. What I am upset about is that I feel like I have never been important enough to you to warrant any extra effort to make me feel special and loved."

But then, by doing that, how will I affect her depression? Or a start a fight?

All I know is that my kids will never feel the way I feel. I will be exhausted from making it to every game, every practice that I can. I never, ever want them to feel like I didn't do enough. Even with 5 of them.

Nothing is ever easy. Especially raising kids.