Is is hypocritical for a parent to want her children to do better than she did? To pass the tests that she failed so miserably in their shoes? What is parenting, if not preparing fledgeling human beings for the great big world before turning them loose in it? And what better way to do that than to turn my own mistakes and failings into life-lessons that my children can learn from instead of repeating?
Perhaps I should back up and explain just what the hell I'm blathering on about. As you may or may not know (or care), I am the mother of three boys at varying ages and stages. My oldest, Joshua, to whom I gave birth when I was little more than a kid myself, is now 14 (soon to be 15). Parenting Josh is an interesting endeavor, being that unlike his two younger brothers who live with me, he's back in my home state with his father, my ex-husband. So, instead of (cue super hero music) Hands-on Mommy, he is limited to sound bites in the form of conversations over the phone.
I would love to be able to say that I trust in his father to emulate the type of man I hope Josh will grow up to be, but ... well, he is my ex husband. If he were that type of man, we would have celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary this past March, and this would be a very different blog, indeed.
Where was I? Ah yes! Josh. So, I've been dreading the ever-important Sex Talk for years, but I knew that if I took my parents' approach to the subject (which was to ignore it and hope that it went away, or that I join a convent of my own free will), then I would end up a grandmother at the ripe old age of 40 - or younger. As it is, I'm sure I had waited too long with Josh, since he's now the same age I was when I sneaked out of a window of my father's home to go down the street and "lose it" at a neighbor's house. But, the opportunity to segue into that conversation never presented itself ... and then there's the fact that I'm Mom, and by extension female, so it would probably be doubly embarrassing for the poor kid.
... so I was biding my time ...
The child in question and I were on the phone the other day, just talking - I don't even remember about what, exactly. Out of nowhere, the subject of a girlfriend popped up, and I thought, "Oh crap, Mom. A girlfriend! When did this happen?"
I didn't let on that the topic had just sucker-punched me. Instead, I made small talk about how everyone knows your business when you live in a small town like he does. I asked what he and said girlfriend did for dates, since he was a Freshman and didn't have a car.
Yes, I was stalling. I did and didn't want to broach the subject of my 14 year old baby having sex, but I did what any concerned mother would do and blundered into the next query, which was "Has your dad had the sex talk with you, son?" Yeah, Mom ... very smooth! (insert eye-roll here)
The 15 seconds of stunned silence after that question said it all.
"What? ... Mom!" was the response I got. (body blow!)
"I'll take that as a 'no'," says I.
"No ... but Mimi did! Mom, I don't want to talk about this with you."
"Too bad. Mimi, huh?" Mimi is my step-mother. "Yeah, I know all about Mimi's sex talk, and I'm afraid 'Use your condom sense. The end.' doesn't really work for me." It really doesn't.
I'll pause this little dialogue here to expound on why that is. The conversation didn't progress much further than that, anyway. We had been talking as I was on the way home from work. A short time later, my mortified son correctly perceived that I had reached my destination, and spied an opportunity to beat a hasty retreat. He mumbled something about me needing to tend to dinner, and he needing to do anything other than talk about whether or not he was still a virgin. I think I heard the words "hammer" and "thumb nail" as he told me he loved me and rang off.
I had done it, though. I opened the subject of my child's sexuality without turning into a mumbling, stuttering mess. Yes, it's embarrassing, and I'd have rather been engaged in a root canal. But, it's so important to me that my sons - all of them - get my perspective on the subject, so they at least have it rattling around in their heads when they're faced with the decisions they'll have to make in the future.
I mean no offense to my step-mother. She's a wonderful woman, and she obviously had the stones to wade into those murky waters with my son way before I did. But, her take on the subject assumes a certain level of defeat on the teen sex front. It assumes that they're going to do it anyway, and all we can hope for is that they take the necessary precautions to stave off STD and procreation.
I want my children to value their sexuality more than I did mine. I don't want them to have to deal with the level of emotional rejection that comes along with a sexually intimate relationship going sideways on them. I want them wholly focused on the things that are so much more important for them, right now. The pursuit of sex is a distraction Josh can't afford in his life, at this point. His body may be telling him that he's physically ready and able to handle it, but I know he's definitely not emotionally ready.
... and I don't want him giving pieces of his heart to every girl who looks his way the same way his mother did in her youth ...
So, what do I do? Ignore it and hope that he'll figure out the right thing on his own? Or, do I do the hard thing? Pull up my big-girl Underoos, and finish the discussion I started - and hopefully give him a different perspective from what he's receiving from the world around him ...
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
So you want to be a blogger ...
I did!
Well ... truth be told, no so much a blogger, per se, but ... yeah. I started the stupid blog. I came out of the starting blocks strong and then ... what? Collapsed after 5 yards? Yikes! 20 years of smoking will do that to a girl, I guess. Hey! As of this post I am 1 year and 2 months smoke-free so, you there, with the pretty pink lungs - put down your torch and pitch fork! It's a metaphor! A literary tool! I've kicked the habit, really!
The point is, I wanted to write - if for no other reason than for my own sanity. And I wanted to share - if for no other reason than for my own (and maybe your) amusement. So, we'll ... what? Call the year and half between the last post and this one a hiatus? Yeah. That's what it was. But, at least it won't be difficult to catch up, right?
So, let's do just that, shall we?
Let's see ... I'm still working on the a fore mentioned short story. It was becoming a novel in my mind, and then was condensed back down to a short story. ... aaand then a novel again, as I got lost in the importance and sheer magnitude (not to mention brilliance, did I say brilliance?) of the story I just HAD to tell.
Are you rolling your eyes at me yet, 'cause I sure am! What is it about the creative mind that makes it tend to take itself waaaaay too seriously? I mean, come on!
The end result has been a lot of me spinning my wheels, doing yet MORE research, solidifying characters in notes, and doing very little solid writing. tsk tsk
The really good news is that for the past year, I've given myself over to the pursuit of my other great love: music. Preparing myself for, and then joining up with the praise and worship team at church has stretched me in so many good ways. Having the honor of sharing the stage with some wonderfully talented musicians has been great! In the past, I'd have been happy to (and did frequently) describe myself as a performer, not a musician. Now I have a burning desire to learn about this medium that I love so much. I'm learning to read music notation, I'm picking up a new instrument - actually 2 once I get the piano moved to the house - and delving into music theory while I'm at it. Good stuff, right?? I really have no grand agenda in this pursuit, other than to just do something worthwhile with my "free" time.Well, there's that along with the need to feel useful on the weeks that I get to help lead worship. It's a bit intimidating being surrounded by such talent, and it's a lot easier to just give myself over to worship if I feel like I'm making a contribution.
Add to that a healthy dose of my full time job (the one for which I get paid in US currency), along with my other full time job and actual vocation (the one for which I get paid in hugs, kisses and general warm fuzzies-as well as dirty dishes and laundry and ...), and I barely have time to think, let alone breathe, or write! But I'm still eking out way too much time for the television, somehow. Go figure.
In a move of Pattonesque strategic brilliance (there's that word again), I've combated the idiot box by moving my office up to the loft, so that I can have peace and quiet - away from prying eyes - to get into whatever shenanigans I see fit. If I want to plunk around awkwardly on my bass, I can. If I want to read, I can do so in silence. If I feel the need to practice my French pronunciation without explaining to everyone in the house WHY I'm learning a different language, I can do that too! By the way, for no reason other than I wanted to see if I could, alright?? ... just in case you're curious too.
OR! If, instead, I want to do none of the above in favor of banging this bit of drivel out of my keyboard in the small hours of the morning, well, you get the picture. Here I am. ... and I'll most likely be back sooner rather than later. It's cheaper than therapy.
Well ... truth be told, no so much a blogger, per se, but ... yeah. I started the stupid blog. I came out of the starting blocks strong and then ... what? Collapsed after 5 yards? Yikes! 20 years of smoking will do that to a girl, I guess. Hey! As of this post I am 1 year and 2 months smoke-free so, you there, with the pretty pink lungs - put down your torch and pitch fork! It's a metaphor! A literary tool! I've kicked the habit, really!
The point is, I wanted to write - if for no other reason than for my own sanity. And I wanted to share - if for no other reason than for my own (and maybe your) amusement. So, we'll ... what? Call the year and half between the last post and this one a hiatus? Yeah. That's what it was. But, at least it won't be difficult to catch up, right?
So, let's do just that, shall we?
Let's see ... I'm still working on the a fore mentioned short story. It was becoming a novel in my mind, and then was condensed back down to a short story. ... aaand then a novel again, as I got lost in the importance and sheer magnitude (not to mention brilliance, did I say brilliance?) of the story I just HAD to tell.
Are you rolling your eyes at me yet, 'cause I sure am! What is it about the creative mind that makes it tend to take itself waaaaay too seriously? I mean, come on!
The end result has been a lot of me spinning my wheels, doing yet MORE research, solidifying characters in notes, and doing very little solid writing. tsk tsk
The really good news is that for the past year, I've given myself over to the pursuit of my other great love: music. Preparing myself for, and then joining up with the praise and worship team at church has stretched me in so many good ways. Having the honor of sharing the stage with some wonderfully talented musicians has been great! In the past, I'd have been happy to (and did frequently) describe myself as a performer, not a musician. Now I have a burning desire to learn about this medium that I love so much. I'm learning to read music notation, I'm picking up a new instrument - actually 2 once I get the piano moved to the house - and delving into music theory while I'm at it. Good stuff, right?? I really have no grand agenda in this pursuit, other than to just do something worthwhile with my "free" time.Well, there's that along with the need to feel useful on the weeks that I get to help lead worship. It's a bit intimidating being surrounded by such talent, and it's a lot easier to just give myself over to worship if I feel like I'm making a contribution.
Add to that a healthy dose of my full time job (the one for which I get paid in US currency), along with my other full time job and actual vocation (the one for which I get paid in hugs, kisses and general warm fuzzies-as well as dirty dishes and laundry and ...), and I barely have time to think, let alone breathe, or write! But I'm still eking out way too much time for the television, somehow. Go figure.
In a move of Pattonesque strategic brilliance (there's that word again), I've combated the idiot box by moving my office up to the loft, so that I can have peace and quiet - away from prying eyes - to get into whatever shenanigans I see fit. If I want to plunk around awkwardly on my bass, I can. If I want to read, I can do so in silence. If I feel the need to practice my French pronunciation without explaining to everyone in the house WHY I'm learning a different language, I can do that too! By the way, for no reason other than I wanted to see if I could, alright?? ... just in case you're curious too.
OR! If, instead, I want to do none of the above in favor of banging this bit of drivel out of my keyboard in the small hours of the morning, well, you get the picture. Here I am. ... and I'll most likely be back sooner rather than later. It's cheaper than therapy.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Proud Inhabitant of the Procrasti-Nation
I have, since early childhood, nurtured and perfected the art of procrastination. As a matter of fact, I have considered myself a master craftsman in the field. As a wee lass, I would put off telling my parents about a big project until sometimes the night before it was due ... if at all. And, I can recall many a weekends' outing to Saint Mary's University or UTSA libraries to do some last minute research for term papers during my high-school years.
Thinking back, those are some of my fondest memories, actually. I didn't have a car until just after graduation, so I had to depend on the boyfriend de jour, or my best friend (who was usually in need of a jaunt to the library resulting from her own predilection towards procrastination) to take me to the local stacks. So, rarely did I ever have to face the mountains of potential term-paper fodder alone. As such, after weeks of procrastinating the actual trip to the library, I could spend hours fooling about with my trusty side-kick instead of actually working on the term paper research while at the library.
If memory serves, my reports and papers (as well as essay exams) ended up being 40% actual material and a good 60% "fluff". The amazing thing to me is that I always managed to pull A's. In fact, I may have learned some sort of lasting life lesson had my procrastination ever bit me in the arse, but it never did. On the contrary, I seemed to thrive on the pressure of impending doom.
"This all very interesting, Sam. But what brought on this little jaunt down memory lane?"
I'm so very glad you asked, kind reader.
I was recently on Facebook, and I happened across the "What 'The Office' Character Are You?" quiz. I'm a fan of the show, so I dove into the inane questions to see what they could portend about my life, as it relates to Dunder Mifflin.
Voilà! I am Jim Halpert. Not too shabby! He's cute. He's funny. ... he spends more time talking to the receptionist and/or harassing unsuspecting work-mates than he does on his actual job. In fact, let's go to the text accompanying the outcome of this wonderful little quiz, shall we?
Wait! I'm not like that, am I? Well, not anymore, at least.
... right??
Hrmmm. Let's take a look at the evidence.
If it pleases the court:
Exhibit A - I opened this post, and began writing on November 4th (the night I actually took the quiz). But then, I just moved on to other things, namely starting and outlining three other "future" blog posts (which, as you may have noticed, have not been posted either). Today is the 15th, and I'm not altogether sure that it'll even get finished and posted today.
Exhibit B - My short story. I've been in research and character development for quite some time now, but I've only actually written the opening paragraph. In my defense, there's quite a bit of research to be done, as it's a piece of historical fiction. My OCD demands that I get the background information just right. I want to know the time/place/events surrounding my characters very well so that I'm completely comfortable writing their dialog, and making them move about in the story. But I've only spent just a handful of days emersed in my research stuffs, truth be told. I can't expect the information to hop off the pages and into my brain. Perhaps if I fell asleep at the keybord with Google Books up. Genius! Could I expect some bizarre form of internet osmosis to take place? Or if I could, just once, jack in to the 'Matrix' and learn that way. Oh the thinks I could think!!
But I digress (more often than not, and at great length)...
There are various points in the day (or, more accurately, the evening - as I work during the day for the majority of the week) in which I find my mind turning to one or more of the things that I want to get done. ... and if that something is on my "Procrastinating for One Reason or Another" list, the mind takes an immediate u-turn to the list of things that I maybe could do instead. High atop that list of late has been: a. puttering around on Facebook, b. playing on the Playstation, c. watching shows I've "dvr-ed" from the History Channel or Palladia, d. reading someone else's opes (or, is it opera? ...)
- insert 20 mintues while the author got sidetracked looking up the correct plural form of the word "opus" -
Your honor, the prosecution rests.
Thinking back, those are some of my fondest memories, actually. I didn't have a car until just after graduation, so I had to depend on the boyfriend de jour, or my best friend (who was usually in need of a jaunt to the library resulting from her own predilection towards procrastination) to take me to the local stacks. So, rarely did I ever have to face the mountains of potential term-paper fodder alone. As such, after weeks of procrastinating the actual trip to the library, I could spend hours fooling about with my trusty side-kick instead of actually working on the term paper research while at the library.
If memory serves, my reports and papers (as well as essay exams) ended up being 40% actual material and a good 60% "fluff". The amazing thing to me is that I always managed to pull A's. In fact, I may have learned some sort of lasting life lesson had my procrastination ever bit me in the arse, but it never did. On the contrary, I seemed to thrive on the pressure of impending doom.
"This all very interesting, Sam. But what brought on this little jaunt down memory lane?"
I'm so very glad you asked, kind reader.
I was recently on Facebook, and I happened across the "What 'The Office' Character Are You?" quiz. I'm a fan of the show, so I dove into the inane questions to see what they could portend about my life, as it relates to Dunder Mifflin.
Voilà! I am Jim Halpert. Not too shabby! He's cute. He's funny. ... he spends more time talking to the receptionist and/or harassing unsuspecting work-mates than he does on his actual job. In fact, let's go to the text accompanying the outcome of this wonderful little quiz, shall we?
"You are Jim Halpert, an employee of great untapped potential. Rather than spending your time on your work, however, you do what is necessary and spend the rest of your time goofing off."
Wait! I'm not like that, am I? Well, not anymore, at least.
... right??
Hrmmm. Let's take a look at the evidence.
If it pleases the court:
Exhibit A - I opened this post, and began writing on November 4th (the night I actually took the quiz). But then, I just moved on to other things, namely starting and outlining three other "future" blog posts (which, as you may have noticed, have not been posted either). Today is the 15th, and I'm not altogether sure that it'll even get finished and posted today.
Exhibit B - My short story. I've been in research and character development for quite some time now, but I've only actually written the opening paragraph. In my defense, there's quite a bit of research to be done, as it's a piece of historical fiction. My OCD demands that I get the background information just right. I want to know the time/place/events surrounding my characters very well so that I'm completely comfortable writing their dialog, and making them move about in the story. But I've only spent just a handful of days emersed in my research stuffs, truth be told. I can't expect the information to hop off the pages and into my brain. Perhaps if I fell asleep at the keybord with Google Books up. Genius! Could I expect some bizarre form of internet osmosis to take place? Or if I could, just once, jack in to the 'Matrix' and learn that way. Oh the thinks I could think!!
But I digress (more often than not, and at great length)...
There are various points in the day (or, more accurately, the evening - as I work during the day for the majority of the week) in which I find my mind turning to one or more of the things that I want to get done. ... and if that something is on my "Procrastinating for One Reason or Another" list, the mind takes an immediate u-turn to the list of things that I maybe could do instead. High atop that list of late has been: a. puttering around on Facebook, b. playing on the Playstation, c. watching shows I've "dvr-ed" from the History Channel or Palladia, d. reading someone else's opes (or, is it opera? ...)
- insert 20 mintues while the author got sidetracked looking up the correct plural form of the word "opus" -
Your honor, the prosecution rests.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A bit of an introduction ...
If you're here, it's because you either know me, or have known some long since past iteration of the me who has grown into what I am today. Either way, welcome to my little corner of the ether. I was inspired to take my writing out of the notebooks I keep hidden away, and put it out on the "interwebs" by my long lost brother (from anotha mutha), who's blog link you can find to the right (no pressure, Rick). Anyway, that's the 'how'. On to the 'why' ...
I have been told by more than one person that I am very tough to get close to. I don't mean that in the romantic sense, because my physical self has never been as closely guarded as has been my real essence: my feelings, my insight, my id. I am mostly inclined to keep my own council with regard to things that are of import, and there are very few with whom I can say I share any more but the most superficial details about what I think, how I feel, or how I view this world. So, the unfortunate truth is that to say you "know" me is to say you know one of the many "me-masks" that I put on for your benefit. Maybe I'm no different than anyone else in this respect, but I digress. If you've ever found yourself wondering what's really going on behind these hazel eyes, then you may find what you're looking for here.
I'm going to pause and say that this is a mostly selfish venture on my part. While I am posting this blog on the internet, and am leaving it open for anyone and everyone who happens upon it to comment as they wish, I'm mostly doing this for me - not so much for you, the reader. Writers have to write, after all ... it's what we do. This is part of my cobweb clearing process. I have, up to this point, kept my observations and rantings neatly tucked away in my notebooks, thereby keeping the hapless outside world safe from me (and vice versa?). Bearing that in mind, I don't know that I'll have any more of an audience with my stuff out in the open than I do with it closeted away ~ but in case a few of you decide to strap in and ride along with me, I suppose I should lay down some facts that will help to shed some light on my paradigm.
I am, in regard to my political views, a conservative (not Republican, but conservative - there is a difference). I am also a Christian (non-denominational, if it matters or you're curious). These are two facts about me that you already know, if you're more than a casual acquaintance, because I do not and will not ever hide, deny, or make excuses for them. That being said, however, I do not particularly feel I have been called to be an evangelist, and only feel called to be an apologist when asked why I believe what I do. So there you go. I do not proselytize, which is an affront to some who share my faith - but at the same time, I will never hesitate to "give an answer to anyone who asks about the hope that lies within" me.
The other great love that defines my world-view is that which I bear for the "Arts". I read voraciously, and have what can only be described as eclectic musical tastes. It would seem to some that these other things which I appreciate are "too worldly," and are set in direct opposition to the first two aspects of my nature which I've just described. I have an avid appreciation for human expression, and a deep respect for anyone who writes or performs anything that makes me feel. While I appreciate the beauty of art which glorifies the Creator, what I am usually drawn to is more visceral (a song about unrequited emotion, a movie about hardship, a play depicting loss ... opera!). Give me emotion, give me feeling! Express your reaction to the human condition! These are things that strike accord with me. As a rule, the sires of these progeny do not share my conservative Christian views. And, conversely, other Christians might view these things that I openly profess to love as damaging to my Testimony.
So, here I am, the apparent walking contradiction. A tale of two Sammies ... it was the best of times, it was the worst of times... If you hold me up on any sort of a pedestal, don't be surprised when I knock myself right off of it. I'm removing the filter that usually rests between my brain and my fingers, so if you continue to read, you do so at the risk of really getting to know me. Scared yet? I am!
So, without further ado, welcome to the parlor which is situated between my ears. Make yourself comfortable, taking care to mind the sharp corners - Oh! and watch out for the carnivorous dust bunnies ...
I have been told by more than one person that I am very tough to get close to. I don't mean that in the romantic sense, because my physical self has never been as closely guarded as has been my real essence: my feelings, my insight, my id. I am mostly inclined to keep my own council with regard to things that are of import, and there are very few with whom I can say I share any more but the most superficial details about what I think, how I feel, or how I view this world. So, the unfortunate truth is that to say you "know" me is to say you know one of the many "me-masks" that I put on for your benefit. Maybe I'm no different than anyone else in this respect, but I digress. If you've ever found yourself wondering what's really going on behind these hazel eyes, then you may find what you're looking for here.
I'm going to pause and say that this is a mostly selfish venture on my part. While I am posting this blog on the internet, and am leaving it open for anyone and everyone who happens upon it to comment as they wish, I'm mostly doing this for me - not so much for you, the reader. Writers have to write, after all ... it's what we do. This is part of my cobweb clearing process. I have, up to this point, kept my observations and rantings neatly tucked away in my notebooks, thereby keeping the hapless outside world safe from me (and vice versa?). Bearing that in mind, I don't know that I'll have any more of an audience with my stuff out in the open than I do with it closeted away ~ but in case a few of you decide to strap in and ride along with me, I suppose I should lay down some facts that will help to shed some light on my paradigm.
I am, in regard to my political views, a conservative (not Republican, but conservative - there is a difference). I am also a Christian (non-denominational, if it matters or you're curious). These are two facts about me that you already know, if you're more than a casual acquaintance, because I do not and will not ever hide, deny, or make excuses for them. That being said, however, I do not particularly feel I have been called to be an evangelist, and only feel called to be an apologist when asked why I believe what I do. So there you go. I do not proselytize, which is an affront to some who share my faith - but at the same time, I will never hesitate to "give an answer to anyone who asks about the hope that lies within" me.
The other great love that defines my world-view is that which I bear for the "Arts". I read voraciously, and have what can only be described as eclectic musical tastes. It would seem to some that these other things which I appreciate are "too worldly," and are set in direct opposition to the first two aspects of my nature which I've just described. I have an avid appreciation for human expression, and a deep respect for anyone who writes or performs anything that makes me feel. While I appreciate the beauty of art which glorifies the Creator, what I am usually drawn to is more visceral (a song about unrequited emotion, a movie about hardship, a play depicting loss ... opera!). Give me emotion, give me feeling! Express your reaction to the human condition! These are things that strike accord with me. As a rule, the sires of these progeny do not share my conservative Christian views. And, conversely, other Christians might view these things that I openly profess to love as damaging to my Testimony.
So, here I am, the apparent walking contradiction. A tale of two Sammies ... it was the best of times, it was the worst of times... If you hold me up on any sort of a pedestal, don't be surprised when I knock myself right off of it. I'm removing the filter that usually rests between my brain and my fingers, so if you continue to read, you do so at the risk of really getting to know me. Scared yet? I am!
So, without further ado, welcome to the parlor which is situated between my ears. Make yourself comfortable, taking care to mind the sharp corners - Oh! and watch out for the carnivorous dust bunnies ...
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