Let the Crying Begin

Dear Blogary,

I hadn’t a clue there was a shoe in the air. Yet, it seems the proverbial shoe has dropped. Remember when I said no tears were shed? Not one? Well, I have an update to my post from earlier this week.

Blogary, seems one has to adjust to this new life of school. Seems one has to adjust to this new life of working for a paid gig, while also working as Mom. This is not really news to me, Blogary. Rather, I preferred to sing ‘la la la’ loudly in my head, while moving along with my day.

As a child, when I came home from school, I either sat and watched TV, played inside or went outside to play. Interacting with my Mom wasn’t an option. Well, I could ask her to play Little People with me, but her answer would always be ‘no’. Instead, my Mom spent her time sewing, reading a book or enjoying an afternoon cigarette with a freshly made cup of coffee. (Though she has long since quit smoking, I can still picture her sitting at the counter, enjoying her afternoon ‘smoke’.)

Understand, my Mom worked. She took care of kids inside our house. She had about three kids at a time from infancy through Pre-K. She only worked during the school year. When Summer came, she’d head off to Nova Scotia with me in tow. Woo hoo! Ah, the good ol’ days. I digress.

Blogary, I am a working Mom. You know this. And, you know that prior to Joe starting school, my days were ‘easy’. I dropped the boys off at Suzann’s house in the AM before work, and I picked the boys up in the PM after work. My schedule allowed me the freedom to tackle household chores, as well as meet the needs of my paid gig.

And now? Now, my ‘flexibility’ ends at 1:30 when I am at my boss’ house and 2pm when I am home. Am I moaning and groaning needlessly? Yes, I suppose I am. Though I suspect there are others like me. Still, I’m not sure how my Mom managed to get things done, once the kids were home from school. Perhaps it just takes time. After all, my Mom had 6 kids – who knew how crazy she was with the first two.

After school child care is not an option for us, Blogary. I do not even want to think about Fall break in September. What is Fall break, you ask? It is a week where the kids are home from school. Hmmm . . . my child is home, while I am suppose to be working. Ack. Another need for adjustments. Fall camp is an option, though that takes money. Commence singing ‘La la la’ in head…

Blogary, due to the proverbial shoe dropping last night, we had cereal for supper. I wanted to run to the store and find some Ben & Jerry’s to console my wigged-out self, but refrained (successfully). And the tears shed? Yeah, those were mine, as the reality of adding another ball to my juggling act hit me. Many tears shed. Tons.

Love,
Me

Fighting the Battle against Cancer

My friend and her Cancer Warrior, Kate, during her end of chemo party.

I received an email from a friend of mine. She is an advocate for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, by participating in Team in Training. And, she is currently training to complete the Nike Women’s Marathon on October 17th with the LLS Team in Training crew.

My friend is running for Annabelle and Kate, two young Cancer Warriors. Working towards her goal to raise $3,000 in honor of Annabelle and Kate, she wants to make it to the halfway point for her goal by August 14th. Will you help?

Please consider helping my friend make her goal, while she helps fight the battle to win the War against Cancer. You may access her fund raising page here:
LLS Team In Training

And to my friend, thank you for running. Donating money is easy. Running a marathon is hard. Battling Cancer is even tougher. Please help.

If it looks like a duck . . .

Dear Blogary,

I did it this time. I really did it. Yesterday, I said I was a Republican. Suddenly, those who pegged me as one thing, are now thinking something else. And, those who wrote me off, have come back after learning I am a Republican.

Oh Blogary, I crack myself up. I didn’t MAKE friends by mentioning I was a Republican. That’s just crazy talk.

So, I let my political party slip;
And now I am catching some lip.
We bicker; we judge.
We refuse to budge.
With a hand on my hip,
I will now let ‘er rip.

Not all blonds are dumb and not all Republicans are like Rush Limbaugh. Well, okay, maybe what I said isn’t entirely accurate. All blonds are dumb. Blogary, I’m kidding. Though giving birth changed my hair color, I was born a blond. Not all blonds are dumb, and I hope I didn’t offend any blonds.

I’ve had people cross my path who I found to be disrespectful to various kinds of other people. And, out of respect for the other people, I distanced myself from the disrespectful ones. I’ve also had people question me and distance themselves from me, because I befriended various kinds of people. Rest assured, when someone decided not to be my friend because of their ignorant prejudices, I made sure the door hit them on their way out.

According to Merriam-Webster, the definition of Prejudice is “preconceived judgment or opinion : an adverse opinion or leaning formed without just grounds or before sufficient knowledge.”

Prejudice is not an ugly word, generally speaking. We prejudge things all the time every day. And, prejudging can be used as a survival skill in some cases. However, sometimes we get it wrong, and sometimes we throw the baby out with the bath water.

One afternoon, while walking with a girlfriend at a popular park, I was spat on by someone who passed us. The person spat on me deliberately. And, the only reason(s) I could think for having been spat on by this person was that he (yes, it was a ‘he’) thought I was gay, or he did not like my AIDS awareness t-shirt.

That mystery person – aka jerk – prejudged me based on my appearance. Too bad for that jerk, because I’m a great person who makes a great friend. And Blogary, some of my friends are – Dun dun duuunnn – Democrats!!

Now Blogary, I’m not claiming to be perfect; after all, I am a Republican. I prejudge, and sometimes my snap judgments are wrong. In fact, sometimes I have prejudged people incorrectly, assumed s/he was ‘a good people’, only to find out s/he was really a bigot (“a person obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices” Merriam-Webster).

Blogary, with age and experience comes wisdom – you hope. When someone shows you who they are on the inside, believe them. But, try to give the person a chance to show you who they are on the inside. Don’t close the book on the person without flipping through a few pages, first. Remember, you can’t judge a book by its cover (or label).

Love,
Me, A former-blond and current recycling Republican who is heterosexual, wears AIDS awareness t-shirts, supports many charitable organizations, wears turtlenecks and socks with sandals, doesn’t like red meat, hates peaches and has family and friends in every shape, size, color, etc.