Colder on the Inside

This February has been colder on the inside.  Weather-wise, you see, it has been moderate.  Possibly even "unseasonably warm".  This February, though, has found other ways to get us.

First of all, I am trying very hard not to lose patience with Josh.  I know it must be hard to work full time and take classes.  However, I cannot make myself think that he is really a college student.  I know you are scowling in disapproval at my saying it, but I really can't help it.  I went to college.  I sat in classes.  I walked in all weathers.  I was homesick.  Yes, that's "went" to college stuff.  But how about the just college stuff?  I bought a blue book for nearly every test.  You know what that means?  It means short answer.  It means writing a sentence that sounds like it came from a college student, not a kid.  It means a certain standard.  It also means a lot of reading, and a lot of remembering.  Josh has his books read TO him online.  His tests are multiple choice.  And he doesn't read.  He just has the book next to him when he does homework or tests.  And you know what else?  He'll have a specialized degree, and I won't.  It's his last semester.  I'm sick and tired of the complaining.  First of all, if you are a senior, it is SUPPOSED TO BE HARD.  Second of all, my Freshman work was that hard, so I don't wanna hear it.

But I am still trying like hell to be supportive.  He also has a lot of work that he has to do at home.  I, as you may recall, have been helping with that.  However, he gave the kids new chores to do this week, and I can't help but notice that they are the ones he was supposed to be doing all this time (not that he did).

Well, all of that is an undercurrent.  We maintain, like we always have.  No big changes have occurred. 

Not so, my friends.

An old friend of mine announced yesterday that his mother died.  I'd met her, years ago.  It's very sad, because he was one of those guys who was a grown-up long before he graduated high school, and I think he defined himself a great deal by how he took care of his mother.

Even sadder, a sweet man, who I wish I knew better, recently lost his wife.  His facebook posts are real tear jerkers. 

I guess I've finally achieved the age where my friends' husbands and wives die.  It's awful to think of.  Worse than divorces, really.  Sorrow and grief are just so much harder to turn into motivation than anger is.

Such a nice man.  Such a nice family.  4 very sweet kids.  I thought so when we all ran into each other at the store a few years ago, but didn't pursue the friendship.  Really, he was Josh's friend, but Josh always pursues friendships in the same way.  He says, "Give me a call sometime!"  If he gets a call, they hang out.  If not, he just thinks of them fondly from afar.  I am the inviting sort.  How did we ever get married?

Speaking of inviting, Look what I've got:   http://www.marylandheights.com/index.aspx?page=613

Please come, it will be a great festival.  It's free, you know, and family friendly. 


A little introspection is a good thing, especially on Ash Wednesday.  Whatever your beliefs, it is healthy to consider the excesses of your life, the need of the lives of others, and contemplate changes you can make that could benefit both.  Or even just to ask yourself, "Am I the best person I could be, given what I am and what I have?"

Me?  No.  Not really.  I could do more.  I could give more.  I could complain less.  I could resent less.  I could reproach less.

I think I am a reproachful parent.  I try to avoid violent explosions of temper.  I try to praise the positive.  I could be better.

We've already addressed that I'm a crappy wife.

Apparently, I am also a bad daughter.  See, Josh is taking me to Baltimore for our anniversary.  It's the first trip we've taken together since we moved to MO.  Josh made all the arrangements, and possibly from lack of experience, didn't make them in the optimal order.  When my mom called and I told her, she assumed the only reason I told her was so that she would watch the kids.  I assumed that Mariah would be doing that, mainly.  I guess I shouldn't have called until that was all settled.  Enough of that for now.  She also cancelled a lunch with her friend because I am going to Rolla on Friday.  See?  You didn't believe me, but it's true.

You know what?  I'm going to go.  I think I need to lie down.  I've been busy with research, newsletters, PR stuff, web site feedback, Josh's survey, checking homework, helping with music lessons, laundry, cooking, and all my own stuff.  Maybe I'm not so much contemplative as I am cranky and sensitive.

Let's try this again later.

Please and Thank You

First, I would like to rant a little about someone else's children. There are four children that live up the street: an older boy, a younger boy, and twin girls in the middle. They are identical, and very friendly. But here's the thing: they are amazingly rude guests. They came to play in the yard with us today, after I came back from practice. Josh went to mow the lawn and we were all cheerfully talking about dogs and twirling Abbie's purple umbrella. Then the younger boy showed up. We wandered the front yard. We almost took the kids out in the wagon, but Josh has put some things in it, and it will have to be cleaned before it can convey humans, so that was out. It was then that it started. "Can we take Jake to the other side of the yard?" No. "Why not?" "Can we go inside and play with toys?" No. "Why not?" "Can I just go in and get some toys to bring outside?" No. "Why not?" I took them to the backyard at that point. "Can we go in your basement?" NO! "Why not?" Then I look up, and the boy walks into my house.

"I'm sorry, but it's time for my kids to go in now. You'll have to go home. We'll play some other time." Boy does not go. I HATE it when people force me to be rude. "Out. Time to go home." And only then does he recognize that he has imposed.

Am I the only one in the world who has been taught that you don't get to boss other people around in their own houses? Isn't the thing to have the child who lives there go and ask for things? We were taught that the host provides what he thinks necessary, and the guest either accepts or declines with excruciating politeness - even at the neighbor's house.

Growl.

So, I went to practice today. I am pretty nearly able to do most things. Ha. The stretching was very good, and I can carry light things if I carry them well above my hip area, and I can play. Well, as well as I ever could. Yay! I played Omiyage. Fun. I still don't know a few parts, but I wasn't as awful as I thought I would be. The rest of the practice I wasn't doing much, but that's probably for the best, this time.

Everyone is so excited about Japan! It's a happy environment. Love it. I bet I know a few people who will be doing lots of laundry this week. I know they are all going to have a fantastic time. I hope they also do a great job performing. Such a neat opportunity. Helena is going to be in charge of practice while they are gone. Hmm. Might be a few late starts...

Maybe I need to tell her that I won't be at practice on Grant's actual birthday.

We made...what would you call them...nachos? Non-nachos? How about Munchos? Anyway, they were salsa chips topped with Mexican blend cheese, leftover taco meat, tomatoes, black olives and sour cream. Pretty yummy. Kinda like a taco salad without the lettuce. Well, that was our super early dinner.

We're trying to keep the kids awake so they will go to bed at a reasonable time tonight. Sometimes we lose this battle, and sometimes we win, but aren't certain it was worth the unpleasantness. I'm hoping for the other, and most rare option, which is that the children play happily and then go to sleep quickly. It's the stuff Mommy dreams are made of.

Ever meet one of those people who is wrapped up in philosophy? I mean, asking questions is a healthy thing. And so is trying to think of answers to said questions. But you really have to navigate in the reality you were born into, so sitting around and wondering whether you are real or whether God exists or is evil or good or oblivious or whatever gets filed into the "Spare Time" pigeonhole in my mental filing system. Not the base of my pyramid, if you get me. I could never be a philosopher. I could never live in the same house with a philosopher. But I would so much rather that than sit here and listen to Josh doing math problems. Ick. Math.

Do you think we really exist?

Just kidding.

Although, I could get interested in a philosophy based on Judith Martin. By the way, let's take a poll:

Do you know who Judith Martin is? Don't cheat, now. I will be expecting honest answers from all zero of you who regularly write me.

I've eaten nearly all of the fancy tea cookies my grandmother bought for me, and all without the benefit of tea. I should have made a cup when it was raining.

What is tomorrow? I hope it will involve a trip to Wal-mart. I'm almost out of soap.

Happy Sunday evening, All. I recommend sitting on your porch or closest equivalent and drinking iced tea. It's just about right for that, this evening.