Oh Boy! Boys!

mood: sad

“They grow up so fast.” When my mom used to say it, she would say it with tears in her eyes. Now it is my turn and I, too, say it with tears in my eyes and big ache in my heart. No one told me about the big heartache. I had to figure that out when I became a parent, when realized how fast they do grow up. My eight year old turns nine in five days. Five days? That means that these nine years have gone by faster than I ever imaged. And the baby - in seven days - he will start his fifth month in the world. Of course, I am feeling all gloomy and all teary-eyed. Why wouldn’t I be?  I am getting older and so are they. 

I recently turned 33 and that made me really sad. Now, don’t get the wrong idea here. I am not sad because I am getting older. I am sad because the older I get, the older they get, and the older they get, the more my heart breaks. My nephew is almost 16 and he is getting his learners permit this week. I am not sure how my sister is feeling, but if I was in her shoes, I would probably be balling my eyes out right now, but maybe that is just me. Or maybe, I am just a Jewish mother.  

I remember the first time I got the “they grow up so fast” feeling. My almost nine year old had just turned three, was all potty trained, and graduated from the toddler room to the preschool room at his daycare. I remember him “reminding” me to pick up his blanket and pillow, because “big kids don’t nap, Mommy” is what he told me. I dropped him off in the “big kids” room and went to pick up his blanket and pillow. By the time I got back to my car, I was in tears and just starting crying my head. I realized that bundle of joy that I brought home from the hospital three years prior was growing up (whether I liked it or not) and before I would know it, he would be an adult, and that really scared me. It still scares me.

Like all parents, I cannot and do not want to believe that my kids are growing and changing. And yes, they do grow up fast. They grow, they change and they mature. As much as it scares me, they will grow up and they will turn out just fine, and yes, I will never stop being so darn teary eyed at every milestone in their lives.  That is what a mother does.

Now, I am not saying that there are days I don’t wish that they were older because things would be easier me, especially those days when I am ready to pull my hair out.  There are days when I wish for quiet mornings or for a full night of sleep, but then I realize that those things are not as special as they are. There is a Trace Akins song that brings me tears but reminds of why I am here. It is called “Then They Do”. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

mood: optimistic

As the year nears to end, I welcome it. I want to put behind me 2008 and I am pretty sure that I am not alone in that one. Life has become harder for all of us. At Christmas time, there were fewer gifts under Christmas trees. They were less people traveling to visit loved ones for the holidays. Amidst our economic woes, we have so much to celebrate. We can celebrate our friendships, our good health and our families, and we can look forward to better days.   We can also give our time, expertise and assistance to others in need. 

The New Year will also bring with it a new president, one who also hopes and prays for better days ahead. 2008 brought with it some of the worst times for middle class America, including declining incomes, retirement accounts and real estate values. Our next president has plenty of work ahead of him, but it is estimated that by this time next year, the economy will be starting to get out of the current slump. Americans everywhere are optimistic. 

The first half of 2009 is going to bring a lot of work with it for our leaders, our employers, our coworkers, our families and ourselves. After what this country been through the last eight years, optimism is on our side. So here is to better days, and welcome to a New Year.

Happy New Year to all of my friends, family, and all of you that read my blog. God Bless each of you and your loved ones and may the New Year give us so much more to celebrate.

mood: happy

Every year, I make a list of things I am going to change for the New Year and I never follow through. This year, I refuse to make a single resolution. Not that I don’t need to, I just know that my list will never be completed. 

When I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, the world suddenly stood still for me. For the first time, in probably my entire life, I saw the world more clearly. At first, I was in a trance – a state of denial, I suppose. Then, I was angry at God and the world. Last, I accepted it. My anger or sadness wasn’t going to change anything and all it would do was make me miserable. 

I realized that despite having RA, I had a lot more in my life to be grateful for and RA couldn’t take that away from me. My eight year old turns nine in a couple of weeks and turning in a great young man before my very eyes. My baby is almost 4 months and growing up so fast. Moreover, I finally got my wish. I have reconnected my three daughters after eight years of having no contact with them. I have a good husband, who despite all my flaws, loves me for who I am. I have a mother who thinks I am indispensable and sisters who would do anything for me. I have friends who would be there for me in a heartbeat. My life may be boring and sometimes, yes, I want more, but it is fulfilled. I have more than most people do.

Therefore, I have decided that setting New Years resolutions is for fools. Sure, I still need to rid myself of all that baby weight. Sure, I still need to minimize my debts. Sure, I really need to focus on completing my master’s degree. Sure, I have a list of things I should and would like to get too, but the only thing I want to do is enjoy life a little bit more. I want to enjoy the life I already have. “Cry a little less, laugh a little more” (I took that line from a Tim McGraw song). And I will get to all those other things. I am just not doing to dwell on them if I don’t nor am I going to make a list that I will never complete. 

Life’s too short. I know, but for now, I just want to take that journey as slow as I possibly can. I am going to cherish every minute of every day and stop dwelling on the things I cannot change. And nothing, including RA, is going to stop me.

As for the rest of you fools, feel free to continue making lists that you don’t have time for and will give up on by April 1^st. Life is a blessing. Go out and enjoy it with the ones you love instead.

mood: cold

 

For everyone who thinks you need snow for a delightful Christmas, bah humbug to you! The weather really is frightful outside.  But, this is expected, considering yesterday was the official start of winter. Now I am wondering what possessed me to move back home. I hated the weather when I grew up here and I still hate it. I am dreaming of warm, sunny places. Nine below is a crime, and we have a wind chill warning in effect today. What is even more ridiculous is that it was in the sixties a couple weeks ago. Sometimes, I think that wind chill factors only apply to us in the northern part of the United States and down south, no one has even heard of them. Ohioans know that wind chill factors are the combination of temperature and wind speed and how they affect human comfort levels. This is how the cold is felt on exposed skin (as if anyone is crazy enough to expose their skin in their weather). Ironically, this does not apply to inanimate objects or even other animals and plants. Actually, it doesn’t even apply to anyone sheltered from the wind. Makes very little sense, doesn’t it. Whatever – I think wind chill factors are nonsense and only make sense to scientists in the Antarctic. Besides, when it is that cold outside, most of us are smart enough to be sheltered from the wind thus the wind chill factor doesn’t even apply (Apparently, I am no genius). Ambiguous, if you ask me, but don’t, please. 

Nevertheless, here is a history lesson I borrowed from Wikipedia. The first wind chill tables and formulas were developed by Paul Sniple and Charles Passel while working in the Antarctic before World War II. They were made available to the National Weather Service sometime in the 1970s. Sniple and Passel based their research on the cooling rate of a small plastic bottle as its contents turned to ice while suspended in the wind on their hut roof, at the same level as the anemometer (An instrument for measuring wind force and velocity). In conclusion, the wind-chill index is said to provide a good indication of the severity of the weather.

Moreover, in 2001, the National Weather Service implemented a new wind chill index. The newer version is only used in the U.S. and Canada and it is determined by looking at skin temperature under various wind speeds and temperatures. The model is based on correlations of wind speed and heat transfer rates. Heat transfer is calculated for a bare face in wind, facing wind and while walking into it. Also, the wind chill only applies to temperatures at or below 50 °F and wind speeds above 3mph. Additionally, the method for calculation has been controversial (shocker, anyone?) because experts disagree on whether the model should be based on exposed skin versus covered skin.  Also, resistance to cold varies from person to person and/or exposure levels. Frostbite can also be applied, but that is a whole other matter that I am not prepared to research. If you ask me, it’s a bunch a woobla for someone else to worry about since I plan on staying inside.  

So, if you are one of those people wishing for a White Christmas this winter, I am sending a bah humbug your way.   Next year, I will enjoy my Christmas some where sunny and warm, but in the meantime, I will be wondering what kind of idiot moves to back to Cleveland or wishes for this kind of weather. 
 

Kyle works in our IST department. Kyle came by earlier and took my computer processor for updates thus forcing me to do the unspeakable. What is that you ask? Well, after a week of living in the piles on my messy desk, I cleaned it. Yes, folks, you heard the exclusive here. I cleaned my desk and I have the pictures to prove it.

No one realized how ashamed of the mess I was but I had no control over the situation. I am a Type A personality, meaning, well as my husband quite often tells me, I am nuts. Because I am a Type A person, I hate waiting in lines, to me life is about rush and last, I am always aware of the time and how little of it I have. (My poor children!) Type A personalities also are highly competitive and strong achievers. Of course, Type A natured persons may have problems such as hypertension, heart disease, stress and social isolation. (Really, my poor children.) Guilt is also another problem for Type A’s (poor me).

Unfortunately for this Type A, my husband has a Type B personality – one which I often times find very infuriating. The man was born relaxed and the last thing on his mind is time. He never rushes, never worries and never seems to care about a darn thing – must be nice.

Well, enough about my Type A nature and additional items on the list of ways my husband makes my blood boil. Right now, my biggest achievement is cleaning my desk and hey, I am proud. So again, thank you Kyle from IST for inadvertently rescuing me from the monster I call my desk.  I believe a nice thank you note is in order here.

mood: crazy

.

Could it get any worse? Look at these lovely pictures of my workstation. My desk looks more disorganized than my eight year old’s bedroom. (Good thing he doesn’t read my blog.) It is not that I am a slob, far from it. I am one of those Type A persons who will not leave work with a cluttered desk and usually, most of my major assignments are concluded before the day is over. Aside from the fact that I have received a new attorney assignment while another assistant is out on medical leave, my mind is more cluttered than my desk. I returned from my maternity leave on October 22 and I still can’t seem to get my mind out of the gutter.

I haven’t figured out what has me bored with my job…well more than the usual. I take that back. I am not only bored with my job, but I am bored with my life. Boredom, is that what happened when you suddenly realize that, well, you are turning into your mother? Or Lynnette Scavio from Desperate Housewives?

Whatever it is, it is making me wish I had a more meaningful life. Yes, I love being a mom (well…sometimes, I don’t) and I have a wonderful husband (well, wonderful is probably an overstatment– he is like a child, but with a job), a highly entertaining mother and siblings (dysfunctional is more like it), and a few close friends (who I should call more often), but when did my life become so uninspiring? The only person I would probably (with emphasis) inspire is an old woman in a nursing home with dementia or probably one of my deceased grandmothers. I am so tired of my boring, uninteresting, tedious, dull, dreary, mind-numbing, tiresome, lackluster, unexciting, monotonous, wearisome, humdrum and uninspiring life (I ran out of synonyms for boring and these are the only ones Word suggested) that is has come down to defining my boredom and taking pictures of my messy desk.

I guess I will be off looking for some inspiration. If you have any, please lend it my way. In the meantime, I hope your desk isn’t as messy as mine. I will, however, not take this to heart. After all, Albert Einstein’s desk was messier.
 

mood: tired

I finally did it! I told my husband to get off his butt and start helping out around the house. (Well, I haven’t done that in about a month.) Of course, it did no good, but I was stressed out and I wanted to take it out on someone and better him than the kids. You know how some days being supermom is overrated? Well, today was one of those days. I long for some peace and quiet. I want to remember what silence sounds like. I actually want to hear myself think for a change. But granted, the only place I “hear” silence (I guess technically speaking, you can’t hear silence) is on my way to work every morning after the chaos of the morning rush in my home. And yes, my husband sleeps through the morning rush chaos and sometimes, I think he sleeps through our marriage.

I would trade every piece of jewelry in my jewelry box for some peace and quiet – not that it would buy me much time. 63 minutes – that is what the average person gets of peace and quiet every day. The average person, huh? Apparently, Supermom isn’t the average person because even when the kids are put to bed or dropped off to school and daycare and while driving into work, my mind is constantly full of more chaos (the same kind that keeps me up at night), and contemplating about the things I need to do or should have done today. 

And a media researcher says the average person gets 63 minutes of peace and quiet? I am still dumbfounded on that.  That research, first of all, must have been by a man and second, he never bothered to ask a mom, a supermom to be exact. Maybe some of those researchers that did the survey could come to my home and give me 63 minutes of peace and quiet, not everyday, but just for one day.

mood: annoyed

Since I was a kid, I hated to wait despite my mother frantically (yes, frantically) telling me that the best things come to those who wait. Mom’s advice never stopped me from locating the Christmas (or my birthday) gifts early nor did it keep me from spoiling a surprise, even one I worked hard to plan. I, as an adult, of course, have gotten better at waiting, but my eight year old has, much to my dismay, inherited the horrible quality I once and still deep inside possess. 

So as I type, and this is what I do for a living, might I add, I am reminded that taking life slowly and living for moment matters more than it ever did. Rheumatoid arthritis has now taken over my life. I am in pain everyday and, despite the pain, I manage to make it through everyday. My hands hurt as I type reminding me what RA is capable of and what a future with RA holds. Every morning I wake up with swollen feet that continue to hurt throughout the day, never easing up. When I get up in the night for the baby’s nightly feeding, I try to carefully carry him (so afraid to drop him) despite the painful twinge in my back. My RA seems to have evolved quickly in the last three months and the pain has become a daily part of my life. There isn’t a day that has gone by that I am not in pain. That is what is like living with RA.

I was diagnosed a few days before Thanksgiving despite being in constant pain for several months. For years, I had aches and pains that I ignored. The more recent pain started with a twinge in my lower back when I was about six months pregnant that I ignored assuming it had to do with my pregnancy. Now six months later, the pain is unbearable and no amount of pain medication totally diminishes the pain. I haven’t asked my doctor for any pain medications as I am not willing to take narcotic pain relievers. My first appointment with my rheumatologist is January 26 and a long time to wait, but according to my family physician, this doctor is the best and it is fine to wait. (I guess I should have told my doctor about the Christmas gifts.)

Unfortunately for me, RA won’t wait. It wants to eat me up alive along with my way of making a living. There is no question that my job as a legal assistant is contributing to my pain and perhaps, promoting the progression of the disease. This is where I want to scream, why me? What did I do to deserve this?  Not only is RA not allowing me to enjoy life and to be the best mother that I can be, but it also plans on taking away my family’s needed income. Eventually, the pain will make it difficult for me to continue to work, but right now, I am not ready for any more changes in my life. Moreover, RA isn’t going to wait for me to get my act together nor is it going to allow me the time to figure out just how to I will accomplish that.

I am stepping back in time to a month ago when Dr. R informed me that my pain could be RA. I went home and prayed with all my heart that whatever was wrong with me had a cure. Regrettably, as I have quickly found out, there is no cure for RA and not only that, it is chronic and debilitating. It will not get worse before it gets better; it will only get worse. So I have decided since RA won’t wait, neither will I. I won’t dwell on my condition because RA is going to make me wait as it progresses. Dwelling won’t change the fact that I have RA nor will it change the development of the disease. Dwelling will only hurt the ones I love and as any cancer sufferer will tell you (my sister included), getting better is all about your attitude. Of course, I won’t get better, but on the other hand, I won’t allow RA to control my life.  RA will just have to wait to destroy my life. And yes, Mom still says that the best things come to those who wait and even though I am older, I still don’t believe her.  
 

I decided this morning that no one in this world could be more blessed than I am. I want to be angry and enraged, but what would that accomplish? The realization that I have RA has finally hit me. I already knew, but I was praying that it wasn’t true. I can continue to ramble, but I know that for everything in my life that has hurt, there was something better to replace it. Every test I have been given led to me here to the place I have been trying to find. My comfort zone so to speak. 

I have been blessed with five children, three of whom I have tried desperately to reconnect with (emotionally and physically) after my ex-husband took them out of my life eight years ago. I thought this was the final blow, and after losing my daughters and struggling to gain my life back, raising my eight year old on my own for many years, struggling to find a meaning to my life, believing and trusting in love after how badly I had been hurt, and now, being blessed with another child, a child that I told myself I didn’t deserve, it had to be. A couple months ago, I found out my younger sister had cancer, and it tore me inside, and I wished that I could make the cancer go away or somehow, take on some of her pain, but as my favorite blogger often reminds herself and her readers that she “kicked cancer’s ass”, I too can live with this and not because I am strong, far from it, but because I am blessed.

I think about how fortunate I have been in my life and how lucky I have been. Yes, I have struggled, but I was resilient and I didn’t have time to give up. I had others who needed me to be strong. And yes, I can be weak. I can fall down and not want to get up, and there are days where the pain is so bad, I want to hide in my bed and wish it all away, but what would that accomplish? How can I teach my children to be strong and to always reach further and that giving up is not an option, if I do not practice what I am preaching? 

mood: blank

Short week…longer days

Just because this week is short doesn’t mean it hasn’t gone by slow. Between shopping for Thanksgiving on Sunday, complaining to a doctor about my ailments on Monday, and Tuesday, being overwhelmed at the job – I am ready to call it a week. However, my week is not over. Still have to deal with all the last minute duties of the job prior to a four-day holiday weekend, still have to deal with a lavish Thanksgiving dinner, still have to inform my family that I have rheumatoid arthritis, and last, I have to find a specialist to monitor my condition. I thought that I would be relieved to find out why I was in so much pain, but now, I am worried about how it will affect the ones I love. 

Unfortunately, the cause of rheumatoid arthritis is unknown and there no cure. In some cases, patients may not experience symptoms for long periods of time. However, once RA causes pain and flare ups that are diagnosable, it has the potential to cause joint destruction and functional disability.  

I have done my research and am still waiting for more test results, and even though the waiting and the anticipating has been difficult, feeling that I am not in control of my world is even worse. I have spent my whole life trying to be this superwoman caring for everyone around me and now, I feel disappointed that I can no longer do that.

Even though there is no cure, scientists all over the world are studying new areas of treatment, including those that stop the inflammation factors of RA. Scientists are also researching new methods for earlier diagnosis and more accurate treatment. Also, early treatment of RA results in better outcomes, so I am hopeful. I am young and I have a long road ahead of me.

In the meantime, I am going to enjoy the holidays and make the best of what God has given me. I have so much to be grateful for, RA won’t stop me. 

mood: hopeful

There times in my life where I had to struggle like I am sure many Americans are doing right now. Most of us are not well off, but we make ends meet. Sometimes, we think that we don’t have enough to give especially with how tough times are. Our economy is in the worst shape it has been since the Great Depression, companies are asking for bailouts and hardworking Americans are still losing jobs. However, I have always believed that kindness comes in small packages and no matter how tough we have it, I am pretty sure others have it tougher. In the times I struggled, I was fortunate to have help and kindness on my side and I have never forgotten that. No one should forget how a small gesture can make someone’s day, month or even year. 

A local radio station has proposed what they call the “Drive Through Difference”. When you get to the drive-through window, pay for the person behind you. You don’t have to do this just at the drive-through. Do it in every aspect of your life. If you are in the line at the grocery store and you see someone with only a few items, let them pass in front of you or even pay for someone’s coffee while in the line at Starbucks. Small gesture, big difference. 

As for that radio station, it is WGAR 99.5 in Cleveland. They have a note on their website that you can download, print, and give to the drive though worker to pass along to the person behind you in the drive through that you paid for.

God bless everyone this holiday season. 

mood: annoyed

What causes the most stress during the holiday season? You guessed it – money issues! A December 2004 survey conducted by the American Psychological Association found that 61% of Americans listed money as being the top cause of holiday stress. As for this holiday season, one cannot help but think about money. And why not? Prior to this historical election, the U.S. government approved a $700 billion bailout for Wall Street giants to be paid back by the American taxpayers.  Now, we, the American people, are being asked to bail out the auto industry.
 

It is no wonder consumer confidence is at an all time low. The American economy has this year (as of September 2008) lost 760,000 jobs with that number growing. The financial crisis is weighing down on American families and meanwhile, CEOs of the three automakers are asking for a $25 billion bailout.   The three CEOs don’t know a thing or two about you and me. They traveled to Washington taking three separate private jets, with cost of fueling each jet about $20,000 versus paying $600 to $1,000 to fly commercially.  

 Source: http://www.conference-board.org/economics/ConsumerConfidence.cfm

 
I am not sure I can feel sorry for these CEOs, but I am glad to see them beg. They aren’t worrying about rising costs for food, fuel and housing like you and me. They aren’t worrying about how they will pay their bills and feed their families should they lose their jobs. And they sure as heck aren’t worried about spending money this holiday season. They aren’t worried about whether Santa will bring presents for their children this year or whether they will be able to make a memorable Christmas for their families.

While, there may be valid reasons to bail out Detroit, loss of jobs being number one, I am not sure we should bail out companies who will spend the cash irresponsibly and come begging for more later on. Michael Moore, interviewed by Larry King last night, clarified that point:

http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/11/20/lkl.michael.moore/index.html

Moore: “Absolutely. I'll tell you, it was hilarious just watching these CEOs there (Tuesday) and (Wednesday) testifying in Congress, saying that, you know, that the problem wasn't theirs, you know, the cars they were building. It was the financial situation that we're in now.

The problem is the cars they've been building. They've never listened to the consumers. They've just gone about it their own wrong way. I'll tell you, you know, I'm of mixed mind about this bailout, Larry, because I don't think these companies, with these management people, should be given a dime, because that's just going to be money going up in smoke or off to other countries.

GM is currently building a $300 million factory in Russia right now to build SUVs, right outside of St. Petersburg. That's where your money's going to go, no matter what they say”.

My advice to our lawmakers – “Tis the season to be Scourge”. A blank check is not going to fix a problem that has been evolving for decades. Detroit is asking for a bailout so that they can restructure and compete with foreign automakers, but that is not the problem that put them in this mess in the first place. The problem is in their business model and mainly, as noted by Moore, their refusal to listen to the consumer. The auto industry did this to themselves and $25 billion will not fix a mess that has been 50 plus years in the making. While I understand that thousands of workers will lose their jobs, if even one of the automakers goes bankrupt, I also feel that in the long term, these workers will be able to find jobs in better industries and that will survive the free market. It seems tragic to allow this to happen, but in the long-term, it is probably the best route for this country’s economy.

mood: drained

A friend suggested I should make some time for myself. Down time, she called it. Of course, I know what down time is, I just can’t quite remember enjoying it. A memory that stands out for me has to do with sleeping before I became a mom. Back then, I loved to sleep and I didn’t have a care in the world. Now, I would pay an entire months pay to sleep as soundly and as worry-free as I did in those days. 

A friend’s mom often says that being a parent is like “a life sentence without parole”. Is it ever? The worry never ends. The only time I feel less worry is when my boys are around me, but it doesn’t mean I don’t worry about other things. I even worry about their futures. I worry about how I am raising them and if I am doing enough so that they turn into decent men. I worry about the present and the choices that I make for them now and even the choices that they make. (And they are only eight years old and two months!)   

Now, as I yawn, I decide that I must re-examine the down time issue. In truth, life does take a toll, and between my job and my home life, I don’t always make time for myself. And I have to admit, I am quite often tired and stressed.  

My predicament – Taking time for myself makes me feel guilty and I won’t deny that I do not miss my kids. What mother doesn’t? 

After some repeated convincing from my (experienced mom) friend (whose kids are all grown up), I have decided I am going to let go of my guilt. After all, my family doesn’t need a stressed/burned out me. They don’t need the long-term effects my stress either, and so, today, I have had an epiphany (Hallelujah! I have seen the light!) and that epiphany is about letting go of my guilt. And so, for those hypocrite do-it-all and make-it-look-easy moms, get of my guilty mind and stay far away – I am not having any of that today. (We can, however, revisit that issue another day.)

As for now, I will be planning my down time and while I have my down time, I will try not to feel guilty or miss my kids. I will just have to save that guilt for another day.

Last, my friend asked that I post my new found revelation on my blog so that she can have written proof that I promised myself (and her) that I would take some down time and not feel guilty.  And I will try my best and should I feel guilty, well, I will just keep that to myself. J

mood: loved

Mommy Brain
 
If you've left the crayons to melt in the car,
And forgotten just where the car keys are,
There's a perfectly good way to explain:
You see, you've come down with "Mommy Brain."
 
 
When you're not sure where the past 8 hours went,
Or whether the phone bill check's been sent,
If you've left the laundry drying in the rain,
It's just--you guessed it--Mommy Brain.
 
 
If you find yourself chatting for hours on end
About diaper prices with your cyberfriends,
You've just caught a particularly virulent strain
Of that affliction known as Mommy Brain.
 
 
If you left your bags at the grocery store
Or completely forgot what you went there for,
If you called the cat by your baby's name,
You can bet that Mommy Brain's to blame.
 
 
And if you know the words to "Goodnight Moon" by heart,
Or you study your sleeping babe like a work of art,
If you're always surprised by how time is flying, 
And the thought of that first birthday starts you crying.....
 
 
It's unavoidable girls, and I feel your pain,
For I, too, suffer from Mommy Brain.
But I'll admit one thing--of this I'm sure:
I hope they never find a cure.
 
©1998 Carlotta Stankiewicz

mood: tired

Mommy brain - Katherine Ellison wrote an entire book about it. Meanwhile, here I am trying to figure out how I misplaced my driver’s license, let along have time to read Ms. Ellison’s book. I tried to retrace my steps but my days are such a blur. My husband wants to know why the cereal is in the fridge and where the milk is. And where did I put those car keys? Good thing, hubby has a spare. One of these days, my boss is going to freak out since I can’t remember where I put anything or what he politely asked me to do? As a matter of fact…I even forgot what I was going to type…I got distracted…you see. Sleep deprivation and demanding children (an 8 year old and 2 month old) will do that to you.

Did I pick up the dry-cleaning? Did I remember to mail out those checks for that stack of bills, which if I didn’t mail out, I am not sure where they would be? Hubby is in a crabby mood because I keep forgetting to get that list of invoices that are past due so that he can get his books in order. And yes, the checkbook, another overdraft which I can’t tell my darling husband about, because I keep forgetting to put this and that in the register. And that deposit, was it made? Ah, if I only knew. And guess what, the research says it is all in our heads. In our heads! Ah yes, another step back for feminism. Moreover, Ellison tells us that we can “stimulate and enrich” our brain and be smarter!  How exactly will that happen? When I go back to my pre-pregnancy figure and a not worn-out uterus!

What I have learned is that the mommy brain goes hand and hand with being super moms.   Yes, Super Mom to the rescue! Now the book I should be reading is “The Secret Life of Super Mom” by Kathy Buckworth, but I do not have to read it since it is the sad story of my life. Thank you Kathy for reminding us that “Supermom DOESN'T have a pristine house, immaculate polite children and a thriving professional life.” 

“No, the real Supermom always leaves the office too early and arrives home too late.

She's: also:
- Sending her sick child to school anyway, hoping the fever's not so high it will attract the nurse's attention
- Praying that multivitamins will make up for the children having breakfast cereal for dinner (again)
- Hoping her husband will be asleep by the time she goes upstairs, so she can get right to sleep
- Battling her arch-nemesis, the Stay-at-Home Mom in the PTA who keeps asking her to bake for the fundraiser

And that's the dichotomy of the working woman's reality-the twin enemies of time and guilt. Now that Supermom's secrets are out, her life would make a great situation comedy.”

Yes, thank you Kathy Buckworth for writing the story of my life. Not only do I have the Mommy Brain Disease, but now my dirty laundry has been aired. Got love it!

Now, where are those car keys?

mood: impressed

Thanks to DVR, my eight year old has been watching the last episode of Monday Night Raw, live from Manchester, England, for three days now. I think he has analyzed the episode several times and is hung on the latest match up with Chris Jericho and Shawn Michaels, Last Man Standing. Chris Jericho wins this time, and I believe Michaels won the last time, but I have lost track of who won what. I have to admit, however, that Chris Jericho makes my blood boil and I am always rooting for Shawn Michaels. (And yes, I know it isn’t real, but it is still fun to watch.) Despite my son’s love for the feud between the two, he informed me this morning that he wants the feud to end because he is “really getting sick of the two of them”. I have been asked to write letters to the McMahon family, as well as Jericho and Michaels asking them to end this feud. 

My son seems to think this feud just recently started between the two. What he does not know is that it is one that goes back through WWE history. I did some internet research and found that the feud may go back as early as Survivor Series 2002. As for this year, Summer Slam 2008 is when it all hit the fan for Shawn Michaels. After his defeat by Chris Jericho, he was terribly injured and Jericho won by default. Michaels announced his retirement and Jericho intervened. A disagreement ensued and Jericho made an attempt to punch Michaels and ended up punching Michaels’ wife. That led to Michaels challenging Jericho for an unsanctioned match at Unforgiven in which he defeated Jericho. So Jericho defeats Michaels, Michaels defeats Jericho, Jericho defeats Michaels, etc. – makes you wonder whose turn it is, but not why my head is spinning.  

As for me, I will be getting out the stationery and writing letters to the McMahon family, Chris Jericho and Shawn Michaels asking them to end this feud. My eight year old seems to think just because he gets his way with me, he will get his way with the WWE. And if the WWE is listening, my eight year old would like you to know that the storyline is getting pretty boring and he suggests you find a new one…perhaps a feud between Kane and the Undertaker or bringing the Edge back to raise more havoc.  Maybe a letter to Vicki Guererro might also be warranted because I am really getting tired of her weeping over her (supposedly dead) husband that the “Undertaker took away” (pathetic), but as for now, I will be making the case for my eight year old.