In recent weeks, I've been disturbed by things I see that are the direct 'fruits' of the bruhaha over the HHS mandate. In the media, and in some FB posts, I read some pretty rough stuff! All I can say is, 'Wow!'. When did women come to the point where they think that crudeness becomes them?
As a woman, I believe I can and should speak for women. First off, let me say this: I LOVE men. I do not view men as trying to oppress women. I don't doubt that there are men who do that, and that it has happened in the past. Unfortunately, that is true. But... every man I have had the good fortune of knowing has always been fair and respectful of me.
I grew up with a father who always taught me that the sky is the limit. He never forced gender roles down my throat--in fact, many of the things he gave me weren't often thought of as 'feminine'.
For instance, he gave me fishing equipment, hiking boots, a barn coat, a CO2 pistol, a CB radio, and many other such things. (He also gave me Love's Baby Soft perfume!)
I have often fished with my Daddy, and we like to go for jaunts in the wild, walking through thick brush, while he points out various plants to me. He takes me to the shooting range and instructs me on the proper handling of firearms. He taught me about the Erie Canal, taking me to points where it used to run, and explained about Indian tribes who lived nearby. He has expounded on the local Indians and their trails. We have watched countless Cowboy flicks together, and spent many hours engaged in intellectual discussions.
Dad has taught me math and reading, how to ride a bike, how to swim, and how to identify birds and trees. I have never heard a dirty joke or rude comment come from my father. He has never tried to hold a women down and 'oppress' her in any way.
I have two siblings, both brothers, and they often roughhoused with me. Shaun, my big brother, used to make me play a game he made up called 'Boot Camp', where he would be the D.I. and I had to do all the tough stuff he put me through. I remember rolling down hills (GRASS stains?!), doing pushups, and running until I was out of breath. My brothers and I played ball together, ran laps, played tag, and enjoyed bike rides. My brothers have grown into men of integrity and goodness. They show no signs of wanting to hold women back!
I never felt like I had to prove myself as a female in a man's world. I felt comfortable with me, and I embraced my feminine side. I always loved baby dolls. I had over 60 of them as a child, and each one had a name and a special place in my heart. I always knew I wanted to be a mother.
My mom is a true feminist and a great influence on me. She is the eldest child of eight, and has a wildly independent streak. She taught me (through example) that to be myself was all that mattered. She worked at the Westinghouse right out of high school, and bid on a job in the shop where she could earn more money, instead of doing office work. She worked along men, and she was fine with that. She wore black jeans that she paid two bucks for. She shunned makeup, wearing a smattering of red lipstick that complimented her almost black hair.
Mom didn't care so much about marriage, so she explored life, and put herself through college. She had aspirations to move to the west coast and settle in as a writer. She taught school as she neared the end of her College education, and went on to work as a teacher. She graduated with a dual major in English and Comprehensive Social Studies. Mom took pre-med classes because she had a thirst for learning! The advisors were puzzled as to why she would take hard courses that weren't necessary, but she loved to challenge herself.
She met my father and that steered her in a different direction, as she found a new desire to settle down. In 1960, on New Year's Eve, at age 31, she married my dad.
Every one of my uncles (seven in all) were/are highly respectful of women. None of them spoke ill of females, but rather, were somewhat in awe of them. There were no crass words, ill opinions, rude remarks. No ogling, no centerfolds. The men in my life are men of integrity who love women as a magnificent creature!
My grandfathers were like my uncles. They were good and pure, with utmost respect for the ladies. They always showed me love, and nothing else.
I have a lot of male friends...they are mostly similar to the men in my family. I have run into the few who are the 'bubba' type--who give men a bad name. But, for the most part, I have found that men are wonderful just as they are. And I know that women are wonderful as they are, too!
I LOVE that I am a woman. I think it is utterly wonderful that I can do what I can do! I am nurturing. I can be a mom. I can be a wife. I love all those things. I can be gentle. I can be soft. My figure is curvy. I like that. My hands are small. I like that. I sometimes need a guy to help me open a jar. What is wrong with being who and what you are????
I love to take care of my family. I enjoy providing their home, their meals, their support. I find it highly satisfying to hold a child, or to comfort someone. Afterall, who can be all that, other than a MOM?
It hurts me when I read the crass comments of late...the ones where females are reduced to their genitalia (and I mean--the crudest terms), and their militant attitude. I don't want to be militant. I want to be genuine.
I embrace and love the fact that my Catholic faith elevates women. Women simply are the heart of any society. What more can a girl ask for???
Our wombs are supposed to be the safest, warmest, nurturing place. Our bodies do not belong exclusively to ourselves...they are there to enable us to be useful and helpful to our families and society.
When and where did people begin to believe the lie that our fertility is a curse?
I recognize that not all my readers will agree with me. I just want to assert that I love everything that being a woman means, and I don't think it is beneficial to act crude or speak in such base terms. It demeans women.
A woman whom I greatly admire, Edith Stein, was a German Jew who was independent, brilliant, strong. She recognized the light of Christ and became a Christian. This woman went to the gas chambers of Nazi Germany, and embraced her fellow Jews with comforting arms and words as they took their last breaths. That is a real hero! A real woman!
Well, that's enough for now...
XXXOOOAnnie
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Saturday Morning Cartoons? Or indoctrination?
In the '70's, my brothers and I watched Saturday morning cartoons every week. We looked forward to getting up before dawn, sitting in our P.J.'s in front of a glowing TV screen in a dimly lit living room. We often crunched on sugar laden cereal, sometimes straight from the box.
Our parents were up before we were on every other morning of the week, but they usually slept in for a couple of hours on Saturdays. The coziness and laid back way we started the day was a relief after five days of hurrying to get to school each morning.
Some of our favorite cartoons were Scooby Doo, Bugs Bunny/Road Runner, The Jetsons, and The Pink Panther. My older brother liked Johnny Quest, which I wasn't a huge fan of, but watched anyway. I was never too big on Underdog, either.
The commercials were always aimed at us kids--either cereal commercials, or ads for snack foods, or something about toys. The toy commercials were what inspired our Christmas lists. Those ads could make almost any toy seem like the answer to all our prayers! G.I. Joe (remember kung fu grip?) was a hero like none other! And Spiro Graph--hours and hours of joy and fun! Lite Brite, a very boring concept, seemed to be the epitome of excitement when we watched little kids using the light up toys. Saturday mornings were a virtual playland that oozed from our TV screen.
After the cartoons ended, we ran outside to play. We spent most saturday afternoons and evenings outdoors with neighbor kids, running, plotting, imaginative games, and bicycles. Even on the coldest days, we donned leggings, boots, mittens and hoods to get out into the fresh air that we craved and didn't get enough of during the school week.
So, in what way did Saturday morning cartoons harm us? Did the sugary cereal make us fat? NO! We were so thin, we looked like we could blow away in a stiff wind. Did watching cartoon characters dropping anvils on one another cause us to become violent? NO! We are a generation that holds onto basic civility and good manners. (For the most part.)
Did the ads harm us? NO! We never got everything we asked for at Christmas, usually one item out of 20, but we were always satisfied and happy. We didn't get to eat fast food or Hostess Ho-Ho's just because we enjoyed the commercials. Mom and Dad had control over the grocery list, and we were lucky to get a dime or quarter every month or two. No one handed us money, except for our bachelor uncle, who occasionally pulled some change from his pocke to divvy up between us. We couldn't just buy everything we wanted.
I've been raising my children since Ian came along in 1986. When he was old enough to watch Saturday cartoons, John and I set forth to renew that childhood ritual. He woke up at the crack of dawn from his early years to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Muppet Babies, and Winnie The Pooh. During this era, cartoons were transitioning from entertainment to 'educational'.
As each of our kids was born, I noticed that the ritual was becoming less and less important to them. They rarely cared about watching cartoons. That's when I began to realize how poorly made the modern cartoons were: they weren't entertaining and fun like they had been in my childhood. They became too preachy! No more fun, kids, now everything you watch will have a lesson for you to learn! Be tolerant. Exercise. Eat wisely. Blah, blah, blah.
Therese, being my youngest, and on the verge of becoming a 10 year old, woke up today and I urged her to put on the TV. She was like a ball of energy and I woke up with a migraine. I wasn't ready to jump feet first into my day, and was hoping for a small reprieve.
The TV was on for a few short moments when I realized Therese was completely disinterested, and then she put on her clothes and was out the door. The TV stayed on for awhile, and I began to pay attention to it. The ads that John and I have been making fun of for the past several years suddenly took on a sinister cast--and it wasn't because of 'Simon Bar Sinister', who no longer graces our TV's on Saturdays!
No, this darkness was the commercials themselves! EVERY single ad was a government sponsored indoctrination attempt! One was about how to get more exercise. Another one was about how to eat right, informing young mind's about their dietary needs. I suddenly thought about the past five to 10 years of ads during children's programming and it dawned on me that the government has sneakily taken over.
There is the ad I see over and over that is about accepting each other, all people of all races and creeds. There are the ones about bullying. Do I have a problem with kids being overweight, and for bullying, or for discrimination? Of course I do.
But I have a bigger problem with the government using propaganda in the form of 'feel good' ads mainly aired during children's programming. I know what they're up to. Parents need, more than ever before, to do their job right! If we don't teach our children the values we hold dear, they become 'programmed' fools as adults, who buy every line the government hands them.
If you don't have youngsters, put on cartoons and watch the ads. Become informed! I do not have cable/dish, so I can't say what is being shown there. I imagine that everything I see during limited (network) children's programming is exaggerated to the NTH degree on Disney/Nickelodeon/Cartoon Network.
To those who say these changes needed to happen, I say, 'Rubbish'! My generation didn't have all the social issues that today's kids do. We grew up just fine. We didn't have every aspect of our lives scrutinized. We were raised with common sense! Remember the 70's ad that featured a young boy who watched his dad smoking? Heaven forbid that his father was a bad influence on the child...but did it help? NO! Most of my peers smoked or still smoke.
People! Wake up!
Young people smoke more than ever. Why didn't they get the message? The same thing for drinking! Ian grew up going to D.A.R.E. classes at school. About 99.9% of his classmates eventually took up smoking, drinking, and drugs. I shudder when my younger kids tell me what they hear and see from their peers. Things are getting worse with every passing year!
The way kids learn right from wrong, healthy from unhealthy, etc., is primarily from their parents. When I was growing up, and tempted to do anything outside of my moral compass, guess what the deciding factor was? I couldn't bear the thought that I could let my parents down. I wasn't worried about some ad I might have seen on TV. I thought of how much they loved me, and I wanted to stay obedient and faithful to these people!
I believe in passing on that thing called integrity. I hope my kids have been learning this from my example and my relationship with them...
I don't want some Big Brother meddlers to be the big influence in my children's minds.
HUGSxxxAnnie
Our parents were up before we were on every other morning of the week, but they usually slept in for a couple of hours on Saturdays. The coziness and laid back way we started the day was a relief after five days of hurrying to get to school each morning.
Some of our favorite cartoons were Scooby Doo, Bugs Bunny/Road Runner, The Jetsons, and The Pink Panther. My older brother liked Johnny Quest, which I wasn't a huge fan of, but watched anyway. I was never too big on Underdog, either.
The commercials were always aimed at us kids--either cereal commercials, or ads for snack foods, or something about toys. The toy commercials were what inspired our Christmas lists. Those ads could make almost any toy seem like the answer to all our prayers! G.I. Joe (remember kung fu grip?) was a hero like none other! And Spiro Graph--hours and hours of joy and fun! Lite Brite, a very boring concept, seemed to be the epitome of excitement when we watched little kids using the light up toys. Saturday mornings were a virtual playland that oozed from our TV screen.
After the cartoons ended, we ran outside to play. We spent most saturday afternoons and evenings outdoors with neighbor kids, running, plotting, imaginative games, and bicycles. Even on the coldest days, we donned leggings, boots, mittens and hoods to get out into the fresh air that we craved and didn't get enough of during the school week.
So, in what way did Saturday morning cartoons harm us? Did the sugary cereal make us fat? NO! We were so thin, we looked like we could blow away in a stiff wind. Did watching cartoon characters dropping anvils on one another cause us to become violent? NO! We are a generation that holds onto basic civility and good manners. (For the most part.)
Did the ads harm us? NO! We never got everything we asked for at Christmas, usually one item out of 20, but we were always satisfied and happy. We didn't get to eat fast food or Hostess Ho-Ho's just because we enjoyed the commercials. Mom and Dad had control over the grocery list, and we were lucky to get a dime or quarter every month or two. No one handed us money, except for our bachelor uncle, who occasionally pulled some change from his pocke to divvy up between us. We couldn't just buy everything we wanted.
I've been raising my children since Ian came along in 1986. When he was old enough to watch Saturday cartoons, John and I set forth to renew that childhood ritual. He woke up at the crack of dawn from his early years to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Muppet Babies, and Winnie The Pooh. During this era, cartoons were transitioning from entertainment to 'educational'.
As each of our kids was born, I noticed that the ritual was becoming less and less important to them. They rarely cared about watching cartoons. That's when I began to realize how poorly made the modern cartoons were: they weren't entertaining and fun like they had been in my childhood. They became too preachy! No more fun, kids, now everything you watch will have a lesson for you to learn! Be tolerant. Exercise. Eat wisely. Blah, blah, blah.
Therese, being my youngest, and on the verge of becoming a 10 year old, woke up today and I urged her to put on the TV. She was like a ball of energy and I woke up with a migraine. I wasn't ready to jump feet first into my day, and was hoping for a small reprieve.
The TV was on for a few short moments when I realized Therese was completely disinterested, and then she put on her clothes and was out the door. The TV stayed on for awhile, and I began to pay attention to it. The ads that John and I have been making fun of for the past several years suddenly took on a sinister cast--and it wasn't because of 'Simon Bar Sinister', who no longer graces our TV's on Saturdays!
No, this darkness was the commercials themselves! EVERY single ad was a government sponsored indoctrination attempt! One was about how to get more exercise. Another one was about how to eat right, informing young mind's about their dietary needs. I suddenly thought about the past five to 10 years of ads during children's programming and it dawned on me that the government has sneakily taken over.
There is the ad I see over and over that is about accepting each other, all people of all races and creeds. There are the ones about bullying. Do I have a problem with kids being overweight, and for bullying, or for discrimination? Of course I do.
But I have a bigger problem with the government using propaganda in the form of 'feel good' ads mainly aired during children's programming. I know what they're up to. Parents need, more than ever before, to do their job right! If we don't teach our children the values we hold dear, they become 'programmed' fools as adults, who buy every line the government hands them.
If you don't have youngsters, put on cartoons and watch the ads. Become informed! I do not have cable/dish, so I can't say what is being shown there. I imagine that everything I see during limited (network) children's programming is exaggerated to the NTH degree on Disney/Nickelodeon/Cartoon Network.
To those who say these changes needed to happen, I say, 'Rubbish'! My generation didn't have all the social issues that today's kids do. We grew up just fine. We didn't have every aspect of our lives scrutinized. We were raised with common sense! Remember the 70's ad that featured a young boy who watched his dad smoking? Heaven forbid that his father was a bad influence on the child...but did it help? NO! Most of my peers smoked or still smoke.
People! Wake up!
Young people smoke more than ever. Why didn't they get the message? The same thing for drinking! Ian grew up going to D.A.R.E. classes at school. About 99.9% of his classmates eventually took up smoking, drinking, and drugs. I shudder when my younger kids tell me what they hear and see from their peers. Things are getting worse with every passing year!
The way kids learn right from wrong, healthy from unhealthy, etc., is primarily from their parents. When I was growing up, and tempted to do anything outside of my moral compass, guess what the deciding factor was? I couldn't bear the thought that I could let my parents down. I wasn't worried about some ad I might have seen on TV. I thought of how much they loved me, and I wanted to stay obedient and faithful to these people!
I believe in passing on that thing called integrity. I hope my kids have been learning this from my example and my relationship with them...
I don't want some Big Brother meddlers to be the big influence in my children's minds.
HUGSxxxAnnie
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Tradition, Tradition, TRADITION!
The savory smell of turkey, celery, and onion tantalizes me this morning. It's already been in the oven for 2 and a half hours, roasting away. I'm watching the start of the Macy's Thanksgiving parade in my pajamas with Tony and Therese, while the other kids are still fast asleep. The best thing about this parade is watching the numbers from Broadway musicals, and the Rockettes. It's the next best thing to being there (and in my pj's!).
I baked my pies yesterday, and really can't wait to dig into some pumpkin pie!!! I almost sliced it for breakfast, but realized that would spoil the anticipation of waiting till after dinner.
Thanksgiving is low on the totem pool of my favorite holidays. It seems a little 'bland', especially in years past. The thing I appreciate about Thanksgiving, however, is all the family traditions we have and have had in the past. The memories I hold are very dear to my heart.
As a child, we usually spent Thanksgiving at my dad's homestead with my Grandpa, Uncles Bill and Jack, Uncle Jim, Aunt Maggie, Uncle Tom and Aunt Jane. The table was set with a lacey white cloth and pretty china plates and glassware. My uncles and Dad usually found a spot on the living room floor after dinner to lie down for some TV football. (While the ladies went to the kitchen sink to do DISHES--what was with THAT?)
I doubt that a Thanksgiving ever came and went without my Aunt Maggie telling me that I was 'snoopy' (her word for 'picky') because I didn't like vegetables.
I always enjoyed seeing my uncles and aunts who had 'come down' from Cleveland. They always brought their 'kids' with them, too--Twiggy and Chugga--a couple of dachshunds!
Some years, we stayed home and Mom did the cooking. She didn't make turkeys most years, she preferred to roast a large chicken, which was just as tasty! Mom even let us drink from wine glasses, which is a tradition I've passed on to my own kids. They will have sparkling cider this year--nothing alcoholic! Sorry, kiddos!
After marrying John and having my own children, we have fallen into a comfortable tradition of having my parents over each year, and sometimes my Aunt Maggie, who is now the last of my dad's siblings.
I always make a turkey with all the traditional sides. John loves brown and serve rolls (I can take 'em or leave 'em), so I always buy several packages of them. (The kids love them too.) He calls them 'burn' and serve rolls.
I guess the thing I have learned to appreciate the most about this holiday is that it IS bland. The thing that seemed boring as a kid and young adult has come as a breath of fresh air to a middle aged mom who is tired from all the harried stuff of life. It feels good to sit here in my penguin pajamas, coffee in hand, and not have to run people to school or do any other number of things I have to do on a 'normal' day.
HUGSxxxAnnie
I baked my pies yesterday, and really can't wait to dig into some pumpkin pie!!! I almost sliced it for breakfast, but realized that would spoil the anticipation of waiting till after dinner.
Thanksgiving is low on the totem pool of my favorite holidays. It seems a little 'bland', especially in years past. The thing I appreciate about Thanksgiving, however, is all the family traditions we have and have had in the past. The memories I hold are very dear to my heart.
As a child, we usually spent Thanksgiving at my dad's homestead with my Grandpa, Uncles Bill and Jack, Uncle Jim, Aunt Maggie, Uncle Tom and Aunt Jane. The table was set with a lacey white cloth and pretty china plates and glassware. My uncles and Dad usually found a spot on the living room floor after dinner to lie down for some TV football. (While the ladies went to the kitchen sink to do DISHES--what was with THAT?)
I doubt that a Thanksgiving ever came and went without my Aunt Maggie telling me that I was 'snoopy' (her word for 'picky') because I didn't like vegetables.
I always enjoyed seeing my uncles and aunts who had 'come down' from Cleveland. They always brought their 'kids' with them, too--Twiggy and Chugga--a couple of dachshunds!
Some years, we stayed home and Mom did the cooking. She didn't make turkeys most years, she preferred to roast a large chicken, which was just as tasty! Mom even let us drink from wine glasses, which is a tradition I've passed on to my own kids. They will have sparkling cider this year--nothing alcoholic! Sorry, kiddos!
After marrying John and having my own children, we have fallen into a comfortable tradition of having my parents over each year, and sometimes my Aunt Maggie, who is now the last of my dad's siblings.
I always make a turkey with all the traditional sides. John loves brown and serve rolls (I can take 'em or leave 'em), so I always buy several packages of them. (The kids love them too.) He calls them 'burn' and serve rolls.
I guess the thing I have learned to appreciate the most about this holiday is that it IS bland. The thing that seemed boring as a kid and young adult has come as a breath of fresh air to a middle aged mom who is tired from all the harried stuff of life. It feels good to sit here in my penguin pajamas, coffee in hand, and not have to run people to school or do any other number of things I have to do on a 'normal' day.
HUGSxxxAnnie
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Did you ever....? SHOCKING revelations behind closed doors!!!
Throughout the day, I find myself doing 'unorthodox' things and I started wondering how many others do stuff like that? I wonder how many of my readers will admit to doing some of these things? Or maybe they'll contribute something else to the list?
Here's a list, off the top of my head, of kooky things I've been known to do once or twice...
Used a butter knife as a screw driver.
Crammed the washing machine too full because I had 'just a little more clothes' over one load, and dumped in extra detergent. (And prayed I didn't have a Brady Bunch moment with too many suds.)
Measured ingredients for a recipe by pouring the substance out and thinking, 'That looks to be about a half a cup.'.
Threw panty hose in the washer and crossed my fingers that they wouldn't snag.
Left clothes in the washer overnight and instead of rewashing them (due to musty odor), threw extra dryer sheets in the dryer to refresh them.
Driven the kids to school in my pajamas. (I've been doing that a lot lately.)
Slept without a sheet on my bed because I was too tired to put one on it.
Eaten something crumbly over the sink so I wouldn't have to dirty any dishes.
Worn mismatched socks because I couldn't find any that matched.
Gave the kids mismatched socks. See above.
Served potato chips as a side dish. (Usually a Saturday thing.)
Eaten cake for breakfast the day after someone's birthday in this house.
Tried to vaccuum fur/fleas off the dog...with zero success...
Yikes, this is a BAD one...told my kids the answer to homework problem/s because they were taking too long to do it.
Used tape to fix a falling hem.
Trying just once to substitute instant potatoes for real mashed potatoes. I never got away with that again!
******Okay, so you get the idea...that's just the tip of the iceberg. Now you see that I'm not a perfect mom and wife afterall. Are you disappointed? I'd like to hear some confessions from you now?!
HUGSxxxAnnie
Here's a list, off the top of my head, of kooky things I've been known to do once or twice...
Used a butter knife as a screw driver.
Crammed the washing machine too full because I had 'just a little more clothes' over one load, and dumped in extra detergent. (And prayed I didn't have a Brady Bunch moment with too many suds.)
Measured ingredients for a recipe by pouring the substance out and thinking, 'That looks to be about a half a cup.'.
Threw panty hose in the washer and crossed my fingers that they wouldn't snag.
Left clothes in the washer overnight and instead of rewashing them (due to musty odor), threw extra dryer sheets in the dryer to refresh them.
Driven the kids to school in my pajamas. (I've been doing that a lot lately.)
Slept without a sheet on my bed because I was too tired to put one on it.
Eaten something crumbly over the sink so I wouldn't have to dirty any dishes.
Worn mismatched socks because I couldn't find any that matched.
Gave the kids mismatched socks. See above.
Served potato chips as a side dish. (Usually a Saturday thing.)
Eaten cake for breakfast the day after someone's birthday in this house.
Tried to vaccuum fur/fleas off the dog...with zero success...
Yikes, this is a BAD one...told my kids the answer to homework problem/s because they were taking too long to do it.
Used tape to fix a falling hem.
Trying just once to substitute instant potatoes for real mashed potatoes. I never got away with that again!
******Okay, so you get the idea...that's just the tip of the iceberg. Now you see that I'm not a perfect mom and wife afterall. Are you disappointed? I'd like to hear some confessions from you now?!
HUGSxxxAnnie
Monday, October 3, 2011
Discouraged
There are layers of problems in my life. I want to solve one thing, only to realize it hinges on something else that needs fixed. I live in an almost constant state of frustration over things that I feel like I have no control over.
A week or so ago, our hot water went out because the basement was flooding, due to the main (only) drain backing up. The plumbers 'fixed' it, no guarantee--of course... and today... I had to take an icy cold shower. John was a half hour late to work, trying to light the pilot, kneeling in icky sewage water. (Thank goodness for this man who loves me so much.)
The fix was no fix. We've been expecting this for years. Every year, the plumbers unclog the drain with the warning that we really need to replace the drain pipe. This would cost us thousands of dollars, and it will be a major pain in the butt. (Digging up the yard, turning off the water, etc.)
Well, it looks like we may have run out of luck and will need to do this.
I feel weighed down. I have personal issues that are mine alone. They aren't family things, or marriage things. These are my own private struggles between me and God. Those things alone can (and do) bring me to my knees in discouragement. Like everyone, I have temptations. I have weaknesses. I have faults. I have sins. The only bright spot in this is that I know that in order to bear fruit, I must be crushed like the grapes that become the wine. So, I bear the crushing in order to bring forth something fruitful.
So, in utter humility, I plead with God to help me through this dark night of my soul. It has its peaks and valleys, it isn't all despair and gloom. But, when it is, it takes every ounce of my strength to cope.
And then...there is...life in general. Keeping up with the bills. God has never let us go without, but we have chosen the path of family life, with a houseful of kids and a large grocery bill. And all the accompanying things--clothing, shelter, utilities x8. I don't want this to sound at all like a complaint. I would never choose to change a single thing about my family. Each member of the Elliott family is dearest and most precious to my heart. The money is a passing issue, but their very lives are everything.
Add into the mix the very real problem of the HOUSE. This house, on most days, looks like it has been burglarized. Drawers left open. Stuff on the floor. A real disaster area. I have always been one to crave an orderly home. I don't care if it is a showplace, I'm not that picky. But, this is not acceptable. I have all but given up. That makes me so angry with myself because I have NEVER been a person to give up. I'm very stubborn. When I want to be working on something vital, it always gets pushed aside because I have to do recovery mode with the house.
I am so tired. I've been running on empty for the last decade. I think I've really done an honest to goodness 'best attempt' at being the best mom and wife I know how to be. But I have somehow failed miserably in the area of teaching these people how to be responsible. I don't know what happened. I am supremely angry with myself for this. I would chalk it up to personality, but each kid has a different personality, so I can't use that as an 'out'. They all seem to be unconcerned that this house is a wreck and I am the only one who cares. (John helps when he can. This is not about him.)
I have tried talking and explaining how this impacts me. I have tried ordering them around. The only thing I haven't done (but many people have urged me to do this) is to start throwing away things that matter to them. I guess that's my weak spot. I really hate to do that.
Now, I don't want to give the impression that they are doing this on purpose to annoy me.
They are good kids/young adults. They do love me. They just don't care about neatness, so they think I should just forget about it, too. I tend to always try to see the good in all things. I see that I have children who are very interesting, intelligent, thoughtful, fun people. When I'm really feeling low, they are there with hugs and prayers, and words of encouragement.
There is that ONE thing, though...that big white elephant in the room...they are all Oscar Madisons and I'm a Felix Unger.
Ah well. I've said enough on this subject and it does no good. Time to plow thru the mess and try to make things a little neater for my own sake.
HUGSxxxAnnie
A week or so ago, our hot water went out because the basement was flooding, due to the main (only) drain backing up. The plumbers 'fixed' it, no guarantee--of course... and today... I had to take an icy cold shower. John was a half hour late to work, trying to light the pilot, kneeling in icky sewage water. (Thank goodness for this man who loves me so much.)
The fix was no fix. We've been expecting this for years. Every year, the plumbers unclog the drain with the warning that we really need to replace the drain pipe. This would cost us thousands of dollars, and it will be a major pain in the butt. (Digging up the yard, turning off the water, etc.)
Well, it looks like we may have run out of luck and will need to do this.
I feel weighed down. I have personal issues that are mine alone. They aren't family things, or marriage things. These are my own private struggles between me and God. Those things alone can (and do) bring me to my knees in discouragement. Like everyone, I have temptations. I have weaknesses. I have faults. I have sins. The only bright spot in this is that I know that in order to bear fruit, I must be crushed like the grapes that become the wine. So, I bear the crushing in order to bring forth something fruitful.
So, in utter humility, I plead with God to help me through this dark night of my soul. It has its peaks and valleys, it isn't all despair and gloom. But, when it is, it takes every ounce of my strength to cope.
And then...there is...life in general. Keeping up with the bills. God has never let us go without, but we have chosen the path of family life, with a houseful of kids and a large grocery bill. And all the accompanying things--clothing, shelter, utilities x8. I don't want this to sound at all like a complaint. I would never choose to change a single thing about my family. Each member of the Elliott family is dearest and most precious to my heart. The money is a passing issue, but their very lives are everything.
Add into the mix the very real problem of the HOUSE. This house, on most days, looks like it has been burglarized. Drawers left open. Stuff on the floor. A real disaster area. I have always been one to crave an orderly home. I don't care if it is a showplace, I'm not that picky. But, this is not acceptable. I have all but given up. That makes me so angry with myself because I have NEVER been a person to give up. I'm very stubborn. When I want to be working on something vital, it always gets pushed aside because I have to do recovery mode with the house.
I am so tired. I've been running on empty for the last decade. I think I've really done an honest to goodness 'best attempt' at being the best mom and wife I know how to be. But I have somehow failed miserably in the area of teaching these people how to be responsible. I don't know what happened. I am supremely angry with myself for this. I would chalk it up to personality, but each kid has a different personality, so I can't use that as an 'out'. They all seem to be unconcerned that this house is a wreck and I am the only one who cares. (John helps when he can. This is not about him.)
I have tried talking and explaining how this impacts me. I have tried ordering them around. The only thing I haven't done (but many people have urged me to do this) is to start throwing away things that matter to them. I guess that's my weak spot. I really hate to do that.
Now, I don't want to give the impression that they are doing this on purpose to annoy me.
They are good kids/young adults. They do love me. They just don't care about neatness, so they think I should just forget about it, too. I tend to always try to see the good in all things. I see that I have children who are very interesting, intelligent, thoughtful, fun people. When I'm really feeling low, they are there with hugs and prayers, and words of encouragement.
There is that ONE thing, though...that big white elephant in the room...they are all Oscar Madisons and I'm a Felix Unger.
Ah well. I've said enough on this subject and it does no good. Time to plow thru the mess and try to make things a little neater for my own sake.
HUGSxxxAnnie
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Yummy and fast recipe invented by ME!
I have a confession to make: I love pizza. I also love Velveeta cheese. So, when I make my own pizza, I usually make one of the pizzas with Velveeta as a topping. Some of my kids love that, too.
I have an extremely easy and quick way to have a 'pizza'--hot and ready to eat--in less than 3 minutes! Yes, you saw that right! If you don't like Velveeta, that's okay, you can substitute mozzarella for it.
What you need:
2 soft flour tortillas
1 jar of your favorite spaghetti sauce (mine happens to be Ragu)
Velveeta (I use the low fat variety--it tastes every bit as rich and cheesy as its full fat cousin)
**feel free to add pepperoni, cut up peppers, or precooked bacon, grated parmesan or romano cheese, if you like
Spread about 1 to 2 tbs. of sauce on top of one tortilla with spoon. Top with grated cheese (if desired), place other tortilla on top of that. Spread 2 tbs. sauce on tortilla, then place thin slices of Velveeta on top of that. (Space them out.) Microwave for 1 to 1:30 minutes. Enjoy!!!
You might have to eat this with a fork, it tends to be messy!
HUGSxxxAnnie
I have an extremely easy and quick way to have a 'pizza'--hot and ready to eat--in less than 3 minutes! Yes, you saw that right! If you don't like Velveeta, that's okay, you can substitute mozzarella for it.
What you need:
2 soft flour tortillas
1 jar of your favorite spaghetti sauce (mine happens to be Ragu)
Velveeta (I use the low fat variety--it tastes every bit as rich and cheesy as its full fat cousin)
**feel free to add pepperoni, cut up peppers, or precooked bacon, grated parmesan or romano cheese, if you like
Spread about 1 to 2 tbs. of sauce on top of one tortilla with spoon. Top with grated cheese (if desired), place other tortilla on top of that. Spread 2 tbs. sauce on tortilla, then place thin slices of Velveeta on top of that. (Space them out.) Microwave for 1 to 1:30 minutes. Enjoy!!!
You might have to eat this with a fork, it tends to be messy!
HUGSxxxAnnie
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Simmering thoughts and boiling memories
I used to keep a journal...I kept it almost daily for about 20 years and it kind of fizzled at that point. I think because I write online, I lost my enthusiasm for the notebook.
One of these days I am going to look up my entry from September 11, 2001. JohnPaul would have been three years old, and the other kids were all school age. Maria was in 1st grade, Tony--3rd, Jacob--6th, and Ian--9th. I remember the weather vividly because it was one of those ideal late summer days...the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the air was fresh, and there were barely any clouds to be seen.
After having seen the kids all out the door, I remember having something exciting to report to my mom (now I don't remember what it was), so I hurriedly rang her on the phone. When she answered, I was anxious to jump right in an tell her my news, but she cut me off. "Did you see the news?" It was just after 9:00 and I had not put the TV on.
I answered her, "No." She told me something strange had happened, that an airplane had struck a sky scraper in NYC.
The magnitude of that didn't hit me yet. I figured a pilot made an error in judgment and was flying too low or something. I pictured a single passenger plane.
So, I said, "Hmmm, that's wierd.", then continued my story. She seemed rather distracted and said maybe I might want to put my TV on, so we said 'goodbye' and I turned the tube on.
The Today Show was on. I remember sitting there with JohnPaul, watching the recap of the collision, when the 2nd plane hit the towers. That's when I knew something was really wrong. I could not believe what I had just seen happen live.
We stayed glued to the TV most of the day. It was surreal. Life changed that day in many ways...
When I decide to get my notebook journal out, if I see anything posted in it of interest, I will share it on here. It might not say much of anything; I actually do not remember writing anything.
So, here we are, coming up on the 10th anniversary of this tragedy. I seems crazy to think about that being 10 years! Shortly after that, John's mother was diagnosed with cancer, and given two weeks to live. She died in December, just a few weeks before Therese was born.
Today I sent Therese off to her first day of 4th grade. JohnPaul, who was three years old that day, went to his first day of 8th grade. Maria is now a high school junior, and the three young men are Penn Staters.
In that decade, my hair has become streaked with grays. I have become a different type of mom than I was then--no longer the pregnant and harried mom of babies and little kids, but the mature mother of mostly young adults.
10 years. Wow.
HUGSxxxAnnie
One of these days I am going to look up my entry from September 11, 2001. JohnPaul would have been three years old, and the other kids were all school age. Maria was in 1st grade, Tony--3rd, Jacob--6th, and Ian--9th. I remember the weather vividly because it was one of those ideal late summer days...the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the air was fresh, and there were barely any clouds to be seen.
After having seen the kids all out the door, I remember having something exciting to report to my mom (now I don't remember what it was), so I hurriedly rang her on the phone. When she answered, I was anxious to jump right in an tell her my news, but she cut me off. "Did you see the news?" It was just after 9:00 and I had not put the TV on.
I answered her, "No." She told me something strange had happened, that an airplane had struck a sky scraper in NYC.
The magnitude of that didn't hit me yet. I figured a pilot made an error in judgment and was flying too low or something. I pictured a single passenger plane.
So, I said, "Hmmm, that's wierd.", then continued my story. She seemed rather distracted and said maybe I might want to put my TV on, so we said 'goodbye' and I turned the tube on.
The Today Show was on. I remember sitting there with JohnPaul, watching the recap of the collision, when the 2nd plane hit the towers. That's when I knew something was really wrong. I could not believe what I had just seen happen live.
We stayed glued to the TV most of the day. It was surreal. Life changed that day in many ways...
When I decide to get my notebook journal out, if I see anything posted in it of interest, I will share it on here. It might not say much of anything; I actually do not remember writing anything.
So, here we are, coming up on the 10th anniversary of this tragedy. I seems crazy to think about that being 10 years! Shortly after that, John's mother was diagnosed with cancer, and given two weeks to live. She died in December, just a few weeks before Therese was born.
Today I sent Therese off to her first day of 4th grade. JohnPaul, who was three years old that day, went to his first day of 8th grade. Maria is now a high school junior, and the three young men are Penn Staters.
In that decade, my hair has become streaked with grays. I have become a different type of mom than I was then--no longer the pregnant and harried mom of babies and little kids, but the mature mother of mostly young adults.
10 years. Wow.
HUGSxxxAnnie
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