Self Flagellation

Today I am struggling with beating myself up (or not beating myself up) over not working my schedule this week. It has been a crazy busy week with a lot to be done on the homefront. My first real test and I threw my commitments out the window. I didn't walk at all this week, although the weather and my sleep patterns haven't been cooperative. I didn't write every day, rather I spent time on housework. Granted, the house work needed to be done, but still, I feel like I should have been able to get both done.  I have not eaten well at all. And, most importantly, by even thinking these things I am breaking the commitment to not beat myself up mentally when I feel disappointed in myself.

I am working on being as understanding with myself as I am with others. I am pretty forgiving as a friend, barring some extreme circumstances, and I feel that I owe myself at a minimum the slack I would give someone else, right? But it is so hard not to hear that voice saying "what the hell have you been doing all day? You call that writing? Why isn't your bathroom clean? You ate half a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips? How could you not walk, what could be easier? Did you find a job yet?" Patience, Marsha, patience.

I need to figure out what the balance is in self discipline and living in the moment. Where the line is between forcing myself to keep a schedule and trying to adapt as life changes. Any suggestions?

My Soapbox for the Week

From time to time I am asked to defend myself on certain beliefs that I have. Not that surprising since I pretty much buck the conventions of what society considers to be normal on everything from my religious beliefs to the equality deserved by every citizen of this planet, regardless of race, sex, religion, orientation etc. However, the one thing I am asked to defend more often than any other is my decision not to have children. Less now that I am in my 40's but when we were in our 30's it was almost constant. Not just people asking why, but people actually trying to convince me that I "had" to have a child. Oh, I could write an entire dissertation on that one.

It is something on which I deliberated much, mainly because I just didn't like being around children. Ever. Even when I was 3 I wanted to hang around with the grown ups and talk with them. I baby sat in high school and during college I was a nanny. But I didn't know what to "do" with these kids–how to talk to them or how to entertain them. One time I turned on Pee-Wee's playhouse on a Saturday morning and the 5 year old girl wailed, terrified. The older the kids were the worse it was. So, I would load them into my convertible Fiat and go to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. They loved me. I was like a rock star. All the Belle Meade moms wanted me. I felt like a fraud.

I still figured I would have to have kids simply because that's what women did. It was "the thing to do", the societal norm where I came from, even in the late 80's when staying home and having kids was declining in popularity nationwide as more women entered the workforce. However, when I got out into the real world I started to realize that a lot of people had kids who had no business having kids. They weren't capable of loving them, educating them, or even feeding them sometimes. One summer during college, tired of my nanny jobs,  I got a summer job working for the Dept. of Human Services office in my Kentucky hometown. Looking back, this was probably one of the best experiences I could have had  in my young life. It was a real eye-opener and I came out of it realizing two things. Loving your kids and having trouble providing for them is one thing. Everyone needs help sometimes. That is something that can be overcome in time with persistence and hard work. But having kids, just for the sake of having them, just because you can, not knowing how to treat them, discipline them or care for them, not wanting them and letting them know it, now that is a horse of a different color.

The reason I am posting this now is because I was already thinking about the fact that I am childfree (thanks, SS for the great blog post) and what people's judgements are about that and about me as a result. Some people don't even understand it enough to make a judgement. And then yesterday in the grocery store, I saw something that just tore me apart inside. There was a mom with 4 kids, ranging in age from about 3 up to maybe 8. (I don't know...I'm not good with ages) Now, let me say that being childfree, I am the first to notice when kids are misbehaving. I am the first to glare when they are running and yelling and acting like they are in the Wild, Wild, West Show. And I hate when parents just ignore them and let them run wild through the grocery, Wal-Mart, or where ever. I'm kinda judgey that way. Don't even get me started on restaurant behavior. I am thinking of lobbying for a no-child section. I will breathe smoke, thanks. But I digress. These kids, let me be clear, they were not making ANY noise. They were being so good, I would never have know there were 4 kids in the next aisle over. But the mom? Oh, yeah, her I heard. Loud and clear.

I heard a constant stream of things like "Stop that, you are acting like an idiot, stupid, you are just stupid, stop acting stupid." *smack* "You want another one, Im gonna give you another smack upside your head, you just keep acting stupid." I just stood still in my tracks until they came around the aisle into the one where I was. The mom was leading the pack of 4 of the most adorable cotton topped children I have ever seen. But bedraggled is the word that immediately popped into my head upon seeing them. They reminded me of the kids in all those WPA depression photographs, just looking like they have given up on life at their tender age. They quietly followed her in a line like little ducklings after the mama duck and I still never saw what any of them were doing to offend her but she continued in her overly loud voice. "Cut that out, act right!" *jerking little one by arm* "What the hell is wrong with you, stop it, stay here with me, don't walk ahead. And you, stop dancing around like an idiot. You look like a moron." (the one daughter had twirled in a circle, from what I could see out of the corner of my eye) "Ya'll are acting like a bunch of idiots, what the hell is wrong with you. I will beat your ass if you don't act right. I mean it I will f*cking beat your ass, you hear me. Goddammit, I can not go anywhere, you want me to beat your ass? I will beat you f*cking ass you hear me?" Yes, she said the F word. Not in front of her children but to them.

It continued throughout my 20 minute shopping excursion. I did my best to stay away from her because I could feel it bubbling up in my chest. I know it isn't reasonable to say something to someone like that, but I knew if I didn't stay away I would. And the other thing? The mother barely stood 5 feet tall and was skinnny as a rail, but I was scared of her. She probably could have beat the crap out of me. She grabbed the littlest one by the arm and I heard the whack on his diaper 3 or 4 times. "There you go! I beat your ass and I will do it again you idiot, what is wrong with you?" Then she walked past me and said "All these people lookin' at me like I am crazy, ya'll are crazy, shit. You act crazy and then people look at me like I am crazy. Bust some ass, that's what I will do."

It kept on and on throughout the store. I was sickened. I just wanted to take those kids and give them hugs. Tell them that life doesn't have to be this way. Call for help. Take them home and clean them up and show them what life is like when someone actually loves and cares for you. It just breaks my heart that some children have to grow up like that. It breaks my heart to think that the mom most likely grew up like that, and someday so will their children. As I rolled my cart out to my car I saw her pull out of the parking lot, the children bouncing up and down in the back, not one of them in a car seat. I thought briefly of pulling out after them, following them, doing...something. I had no idea what so I just got into my car and sat in the sweltering heat for a moment, letting the anger swell up in my chest.

I have always been this way. One lesson my mother never tried to teach me was "you can't save everyone". I learned that on my own. I grew up with parents who tried to help kids and families who they thought needed it, adopted stray dogs, picked up hitchhikers. I always fought for the underdog. The weird kid in school, the abused kid or wife, the dog that got kicked. I never said I didn't have mothering instincts. I never said I don't think kids can be adorable. I am just saying I don't think I have what it takes to live with them every day. I am saying that the ability to have and raise kids isn't just a right. It is an enormous responsibility, one which should be a conscious choice.

Now, I am not saying that the reason I don't want kids is that I think I would be mean or abusive or anything like that. I personally like having a life without kids because we are not tied down and can live life as we please. Some say that is selfish. I am just saying that it is more selfish when people have kids if they don't want them, can't handle them, or just plain don't like them. We as a society should stop pushing that version of "normal" onto people without regard for whether they want it or not. The conscious choice to have or not have children should be one that everyone regardless of social, racial, and economic background should have the education and opportunity to make. *stepping off soapbox*

I don't "do" book reviews, but...

If anyone has ever wondered how I felt when we moved from Nashville up to Pennsylvania (and I am sure you just sit around thinking about it constantly) check out the book, Whistlin' Dixie in a Nor'easter by Lisa Patton. (For you Nashville folks, no, it isn't the Channel 2 weather woman.) I had the pleasure of meeting Lisa at the SoKy Book Festival back in April and she is a spunky redhead who raised two sons as a single mother and began writing this, her first novel, in her 40's.

The story is of a woman, Lee Lee, who leads an idyllic life in Memphis along with her husband, two young daughters and her little dog, Princess Grace Kelly. Oh, and her three lifelong best friends, we must not forget the friends. She is an authentic modern day Southern Belle, and when her husband decides that he wants to "follow his bliss" she is not happy about the thought of moving to Vermont to run an inn. However, in the way that only Southern women can do, she acquiesces and off they go to one of our Northern most states. The story is about her adjustment to this strange life and all the trials and tests of will that she must go through during her life there. Not the least of which is the death of her beloved dog, Princess Grace Kelly.

Throughout the entire book I was able to completely identify with Lee Lee on everything about leaving the South and landing in the north. One exception is that I didn't have an inn to run and I didn't have 2 children to get up for every day. But everything rang true to me from the dealing with unusual customs and less than friendly neighbors to the colloquial language she had to deal with and the northern accent that is so grating to Southern ears.

Honestly, I almost had to put the book down a quarter of the way through because I felt as though I was reliving my first few months in the north, feeling so aggravated and angry. When her husband mentioned moving, I screamed in my head "NO don't do it!!! When we first moved I felt so alone and so different everywhere I went. I was the kooky Southern girl and no one could relate to me beyond making fun of my "hick" accent (yes someone called it that). I met 2 or 3 people (literally, 2 or 3) who were friends to me like I would have had "back home" but for the most part, those people up there? I just didn't get them, didn't get how grouchy and negative and short they were and how they didn't just let loose and have fun. I didn't get how cashiers and waitresses wouldn't talk to you. I didn't get how people looked at you like you were crazy if you spoke to them waiting in line at the grocery store. I didn't get how they related to each other with such negativity, and I just plain didn't like most of them. Most of all, I didn't get how whenever I did something different they always said "that must be a Southern thing". Yeah, politeness and friendliness. Those were invented in the south and were kept here, obviously.

I made myself push on through the book and was rewarded with a beautiful scene in which her friends help her out of the biggest jam ever. From there on out the book was total happiness, a story about the enormous difference friends can make in anyone's life. I didn't have anyone to rescue me, but that is mainly due to the fact that I didn't tell anyone how bad things had gotten for me until I was better. I rescued myself by getting out of a job I had taken with a horrible woman, getting myself into counseling, going back to school to get a degree I had wanted for at least 5 years. Finally I began to make friends, enjoy life, and I obtained a great job in my new field. I pulled myself out of the situation in true Steel Magnolia fashion, as only a Southern girl could do. And when I did? I stopped worrying about those people. And then we moved back home to KY for my husband's job. Yes, the universe has a sense of humor.

Reading this book was difficult for me, but I think Lisa did a beautiful job of making you feel as though the early chapters are in black and white (or a dull Northern gray). Once you hit that mid-point, though, I felt like everything turned into technicolor. Sort of like that scene in the Wizard of Oz. I enjoyed this book for all the descriptives and the true voice Lisa gives to LeeLee and all the characters. Even the fact that I was aggravated and angry is a testament to her writing such a vivid account that it rang true with my experience. Thanks, Lisa for such a great book! I enjoyed the read.

Oh, and on a side note, my beloved cat Spaz died while we lived in Pennsylvania after living to the ripe old age of 18. I was completely distraught about what to do with him and when hubby wondered out loud where we could bury him I wailed "I am NOT burying him in f-ing Pennsylvania. NONE of us are going to be buried in f-ing Pennsylvania, do you hear me?! Help me figure out what to do with him!!!" And that is how we ended up driving home to Kentucky, 5 months later, with a frozen cat in a styrofoam cooler in the back of my SUV to be buried in mid-March at my mom and dad's house. Honestly.

Retro Thursday

No time for posting today, please enjoy this vintage video and song from the Dead Milkmen. They still rock.

The Dead Milkmen - Punk Rock Girl

C'mon Down

Money is tight for us right now and I, of course, use laughter to deal with the stress. I was telling Hubs that I saw the most brilliant idea for a business in a nearby college town. The "Wash & Tan"–a laundromat with tanning beds. Now, I am not a tanning bed person at. all. I am perfectly happy with my bonny Irish skin, but I know how girls do like to get their tan on. To me this business is one of the most brilliant combos I ever have seen. Think about it, college girls (and guys) can tan and launder at the same time? "Beyond original," I thought "they must do quite a business!" While I was revelling in this idea, days later, hubby burst my bubble by telling me there is already such a business in our hometown. This one, however, has upped the ante a bit by adding a car wash with the original laundromat/tanning bed combo. Even more brilliant!


I, of course, felt challenged to think of a better combo. Every time we drive through town we talk about some of the funny combination businesses that you see in small towns. Like the pawn shop/chicken shack or the check cashing/pawn shop/church that we pass by every day. The best, and most concerning are the fireworks/gas station combos. Who on earth thought this one up? And how is it legal? Oh, and there's also the Subway/gas station/church combo although I am not sure if they are all together or merely share a building. But I digress.


We came up with what I think is a brilliant idea for our small, religious, pageant queen raisin' Southern town. A church/tanning bed combo, which would be billed as follows:


The Greater Church of God's Goodness Repent 'N Tan


Pastor Skip on duty 24-7 to hear your sins and offer you
5-15 minutes in the bed of your choice– #1-5 or the all new, super-hot #666 (El Diablo). 


60 minute packages available for confession, tanning, or the deluxe combo package at 10% off. 


Remember:
We sell Bibles, Rosary beads in wood or faux crystal (for our Catholic neighbors) as well as a full line of Hawaiian Tropic Tanning products.


and...
"We accept all competitors coupons"


Visa/MasterCard always accepted, but of course cash is preferred–just drop it  in the collection plates by the door.


Well, OK, maybe not. I suppose it wouldn't be that good for me seeing as I am unaffiliated, religiously speaking and I don't tan either. But, it is still better than my idea for a "dance" club catering to men with a fetish for the big girls with a pie shop next door. Hmmm...or is it?

Retro Monday

Tired and no time for posting so please enjoy this retro song "Canonball" by the Breeders. It is one of my faves.