In which my day gets better...

I was having a perfectly awful day yesterday. My eyes were actually burning with the tears I was not crying. But I had a girl scout meeting to lead after work and there was no time for self pity, so I put my big girl panties on and took care of business. After the meeting, my daughter and I stopped at the gas station to fill up. I was pumping gas when a truck pulled into the bay on the other side of the pump. A silver haired fox with a George Hamilton tan peaks around the gas pump and checks me out. As I'm hanging the pump up, he walks past and I say to him "What are you looking at?" Not in a confrontational way, with the emphasis on 'you'. In a curious way, with a slight emphasis on 'what'. I thought perhaps he was eyeing the new ink on my foot? and he says to me, "I'm looking at you, baby", emphasis on 'you', and keeps walking. "Niiicce" I say, as I put the cap back on my gas tank.

Not perfect is well, perfect for me

Many of my friends tell me that I am a very calm parent. I have always shrugged it off; its not difficult to not yell and scream at my children. I have noticed other parents having difficulty not screaming at their children, but I have never been one of those people. No big deal.

I think I really believe and hear what they are saying now. If I were ever going to scream and/or lose it with my child, today would have been the day. It didn't happen. Her friend looks at me and says "you are so calm, my mother would be freaking out right now". I wasn't even tempted. There are times when the crime is also the punishment. This is one of those times. No need to yell, no need to make her feel worse. She feels bad. She gets it. She said to me, something like -I think when you come from a good family, like I do, then feeling as guilty as I do is punishment enough-. My goal isn't to make her feel bad, it's just to get her to think about possible consequences and err on the side of caution. And to know that I am here for her even when she isn't being the perfect young woman everyone expects her to be.

It's funny, my friends often say things about how perfect my two older girls are...I know they aren't perfect and I love them even more for it.

Dead Trees and Food Stamps

The big blue New Post button keeps mocking me.

I heard on the radio on the way home today that there is a bill before Congress to stop giving foodstamps to families when a family member is on Strike. It made me want to hurl. First of all, each and every time my husband went on strike, it was for such a short amount of time that filing for foodstamps would have been fruitless. Secondly, the Union helped us pay for our groceries while he was on strike. So what I'm saying is the person is likely on strike trying to negotiate better wages to GET OFF foodstamps that he/she was on BEFORE the strike! I want to slap our politicians when they act so damn stupid.

I've had a lot on my mind this past week. Familial dances, dead trees, treadless tires, and such. I need a haircut. Oh and the paperwork, let's not forget all the paperwork.

So I think to combat all the mental and emotional stress I am going to work in my yard this weekend. Assuming I can get anything done with the two dead pine trees that are now all cut up and littering my yard. The point is, I am going to get outside in the sunshine and do some manual labor. This will no doubt help clear the cobwebs.

If anyone can find my silver cleaner, I would be obliged. I seemed to have misplaced it in the past two weeks.