I am, believe it or not, the world's worst procrastinator. I will wait until the last possible second to do whatever it is I have to do. I promise. Now... with that said, I'm a speedy project tackler. I can whip out a little girl's dress in under 2 hours, I can clean my house in the same flashy amount of time, 8 loads of laundry can be knocked out in one afternoon, dinner can be on the table in 20 minutes. I work well under pressure! This is a positive...
However, I like to sleep and many times I stay up late finishing what should have been finished, I end up having to forgo my daily shower because I'm in a time crunch, or we're late. Always. We are always LATE! And this ladies and gents, is because I'm a procrastinator! Not because I'm lazy or can't tell time or don't wear a watch, although there may be some truth to all of those (at least I think I can tell time, maybe I can't). But simply because I put everything in my life off until the last possible second!
Do you know how much easier my life would be if I re-packed my diaper bag every night? Or prepacked Carson's lunch for school? Or did laundry daily instead of once every couple of weeks? Or, and this one is my favorite, put things where they go instead of piling things on my kitchen counter?
I am the Queen of "I'll Do It Later". I prefer to watch TV, play in my garden, sit with my husband, play with my kiddos, SHOP! But at the same time, and here is where you get to meet my split personalities.... I am so anal retentive and I HATE clutter and I HATE filth! It eats at me. I mean seriously eats away at me until I just want to throw everything away and start over! So... I need to stop procrastinating. I think it will make me a calmer person. Maybe. Hopefully.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Curbing an Emtional Outburst
The latest statistics tell us that 1,837,529 acres of Texas lands have been consumed by wildfires and that 902 homes have been lost. Meteorologists are not predicting any major relief until June or July. The Texas Forest Service is continually updating the Current Texas Wildfire Situation, as they are calling it, on their website. 208 out of the 254 counties in Texas are currently burning and reporting burn bans.
Facts are without emotion. Facts tell you what is going on. We rely on facts to keep us informed and moving forward. But what these facts don't tell you about, are the 100+ year old ranches being burned to a crisp. The miles and miles of fence line, expensive fence line, that will need to be replaced by ranchers who've done their best to just hold on to their land through the economical crisis of the past few years. You read 902 homes and it shakes you but it just says homes. Some of these homes are 100 years old. These are the homesteads where great-grandparents and grandparents were born, were raised, were wed. Texas Historical Markers dot the landscape of our great state telling the stories of men and women who chose the rugged land of South West Texas to bring their families and to build their life stories. Small towns gather memorabilia for their museums, which would not be so interesting in any "city museum", but tell the stories of communities that were built based on cattle and sheep and goats and family lineage that stayed in place for over a century.
I am the great-great-grand daughter of the first graduate of Ozona High School. The West and Carson families have made their homes their for over a century. Continuing a tradition of ranching throughout the years and growing with the times. There isn't an abundance of livestock anymore, as that does not bring in the money. So we lease land for hunting and drilling and hope that every year we make enough to keep it all but not enough that the government will tax us into destitution. We hold onto the land at all cost. It, is our history. Our roots are deep. No matter where we go, where we live, the land is our home.
Sleepy Hollow. That is the Carson ranch. My Daddy has worked their his whole life, with the exception of his time served in the Army and in Vietnam. I am a person who is deeply connected to my history. My family history sits at the core of who I am. I believe in knowing where I came from. That knowing is what builds you. My summers and holidays were spent in the cab of my Daddy's truck going to the ranch. Playing games with the women at the hunting camp and checking wind mills and tanks and troughs and feeding livestock. This fire is not just burning the land.
I feel it, 7 hours away in Frisco, Texas. To know that the house that has stood since 1914 is threatened by wildfires, burns behind my eyelids. To know that memories of Thanksgivings and SkipBo games and lazy afternoons on the screened porch and baking Snickerdoodles with NoNo and picking Figs for preserves are threatened by wildfires, burns my throat. To know that there is absolutely nothing I can do makes the heat wash over me in waves. We will lose the Hunting Camp and there is not much we can do about that. We will rebuild. It is not a question, we just will.
But when I turn on my Television in the morning and our President is taking time to address the ridiculous questions of his birth. When the most brilliant minds of our great nation are reduced to bickering school children. When the people of our country are more interested in petty debates and flashy speeches. I burn yet again. I want to scream. I want to physically shake these people who are "in charge". What will it take for the media to understand that there are so many more important things to be reporting on. The story is not old! These fires are not yesterday's headlines! The federal government should be sending help! The federal government should be focused on our land, on our borders, we are not the international police force. Our President and our Congressmen and our Senators... our leaders should be listening to the people of this nation. But they are not. And they will not. They listen to money. And we the people, have very little of that.
Our country is falling apart at the seams. The fabric of our nation is unraveling because we have chosen to take sides. To align ourselves with a group of 'like" minded individuals. We have all chosen to stop looking at our neighbors and our fellow community members as a part of the whole. We now see people as either with us or against us. What will it take to simply have us line up side by side and rebuild our nation? 9-11 worked for a while, Hurricane Katrina worked for a while. But nothing seems to work for very long. It is time to simply get over ourselves.
So until that time I'll continue to burn as the land of my ancestors is currently burning. Floods and tornadoes and death and life altering changes are rocking our country and yet we fight for our right to be louder that the person next to us. We are failing our children and our grandchildren. We are failing ourselves.
If I seem emotional, if I seem not altogether gathered in my thought process it is because I know not where to begin. My brain is filled to overflowing with thoughts and anger and passion. The fire rages loudly and over rides all emotion. Your skin crawls with the heat and you hear it eating away at everything, you smell the smoke and you can see the yellow and orange flames burning brightly right before your eyes. And you taste. You taste the mesquite and the cedar and the death of the land on the tip of your tongue. I don't have to be there. It all burns in my mind's eye, inside me, right here. Seven hours away.
Facts are without emotion. Facts tell you what is going on. We rely on facts to keep us informed and moving forward. But what these facts don't tell you about, are the 100+ year old ranches being burned to a crisp. The miles and miles of fence line, expensive fence line, that will need to be replaced by ranchers who've done their best to just hold on to their land through the economical crisis of the past few years. You read 902 homes and it shakes you but it just says homes. Some of these homes are 100 years old. These are the homesteads where great-grandparents and grandparents were born, were raised, were wed. Texas Historical Markers dot the landscape of our great state telling the stories of men and women who chose the rugged land of South West Texas to bring their families and to build their life stories. Small towns gather memorabilia for their museums, which would not be so interesting in any "city museum", but tell the stories of communities that were built based on cattle and sheep and goats and family lineage that stayed in place for over a century.
I am the great-great-grand daughter of the first graduate of Ozona High School. The West and Carson families have made their homes their for over a century. Continuing a tradition of ranching throughout the years and growing with the times. There isn't an abundance of livestock anymore, as that does not bring in the money. So we lease land for hunting and drilling and hope that every year we make enough to keep it all but not enough that the government will tax us into destitution. We hold onto the land at all cost. It, is our history. Our roots are deep. No matter where we go, where we live, the land is our home.
Sleepy Hollow. That is the Carson ranch. My Daddy has worked their his whole life, with the exception of his time served in the Army and in Vietnam. I am a person who is deeply connected to my history. My family history sits at the core of who I am. I believe in knowing where I came from. That knowing is what builds you. My summers and holidays were spent in the cab of my Daddy's truck going to the ranch. Playing games with the women at the hunting camp and checking wind mills and tanks and troughs and feeding livestock. This fire is not just burning the land.
I feel it, 7 hours away in Frisco, Texas. To know that the house that has stood since 1914 is threatened by wildfires, burns behind my eyelids. To know that memories of Thanksgivings and SkipBo games and lazy afternoons on the screened porch and baking Snickerdoodles with NoNo and picking Figs for preserves are threatened by wildfires, burns my throat. To know that there is absolutely nothing I can do makes the heat wash over me in waves. We will lose the Hunting Camp and there is not much we can do about that. We will rebuild. It is not a question, we just will.
But when I turn on my Television in the morning and our President is taking time to address the ridiculous questions of his birth. When the most brilliant minds of our great nation are reduced to bickering school children. When the people of our country are more interested in petty debates and flashy speeches. I burn yet again. I want to scream. I want to physically shake these people who are "in charge". What will it take for the media to understand that there are so many more important things to be reporting on. The story is not old! These fires are not yesterday's headlines! The federal government should be sending help! The federal government should be focused on our land, on our borders, we are not the international police force. Our President and our Congressmen and our Senators... our leaders should be listening to the people of this nation. But they are not. And they will not. They listen to money. And we the people, have very little of that.
Our country is falling apart at the seams. The fabric of our nation is unraveling because we have chosen to take sides. To align ourselves with a group of 'like" minded individuals. We have all chosen to stop looking at our neighbors and our fellow community members as a part of the whole. We now see people as either with us or against us. What will it take to simply have us line up side by side and rebuild our nation? 9-11 worked for a while, Hurricane Katrina worked for a while. But nothing seems to work for very long. It is time to simply get over ourselves.
So until that time I'll continue to burn as the land of my ancestors is currently burning. Floods and tornadoes and death and life altering changes are rocking our country and yet we fight for our right to be louder that the person next to us. We are failing our children and our grandchildren. We are failing ourselves.
If I seem emotional, if I seem not altogether gathered in my thought process it is because I know not where to begin. My brain is filled to overflowing with thoughts and anger and passion. The fire rages loudly and over rides all emotion. Your skin crawls with the heat and you hear it eating away at everything, you smell the smoke and you can see the yellow and orange flames burning brightly right before your eyes. And you taste. You taste the mesquite and the cedar and the death of the land on the tip of your tongue. I don't have to be there. It all burns in my mind's eye, inside me, right here. Seven hours away.
Monday, April 18, 2011
On My Mind
So lately a lot of things have been driving me crazy. To the point that I can't focus on any one thing for longer that 2 minutes which make it next to impossible to write a coherent, thought provoking yet funny blog about any one topic. But today I am going to do it!
Starting with fat kids.
I know chubby babies are cute. The endless rolls of baby soft skin and triple chins and fat bulges are adorable on infants and toddlers, especially little girls in swimsuits. We pinch there adorably over flowing cheeks and gaggle along with our mommy friends about how we have to clean between their rolls of fat.
But not so much on the ten year boy old whose sitting on the bench at the park playing his Nintendo DS. Sweating from the 75 degree heat and red in the face because obviously the exertion of walking from the car to that bench, over-taxed his limited to non-existent endurance levels. And then his mother hands him a snack and I start seeing red, and not just his face. I mean I feel my head cloud over with anger and my eyes are unable to stay focused on anything else. The child walked 20 yards! And he sat his large rear end down and you gave him a snack! I'll grant you it is 3pm and he may just have gotten out of school and he might genuinely be hungry and we should definitely fuel our kids bodies. But somehow I think the Slim Jim and the Diet Coke are just not what Dr. Oz had in mind.
That my followers, is child abuse. Just as dangerous and just as traumatic as taking a right fist to his eye or swift kick to his groin. And ultimately just as painful. This child has been set up for failure. His Mother is over weight as are his two little sisters, but at least they are running around the park and climbing on the equipment.
In fact let's start with good 'ol Mom. When does the laziness kick in? Am I just not there yet? Have I just not reached the "I don't give a shit" place in my parenting journey? Because she definitely has. I normally would grant any mom the courtesy of it has been a rough day. But this is an ongoing occurrence at our park with this particular little family. I'm not trying to be mean and I can see the other side of the coin. Yes, she probably does not have any positive female influences, yes, she could probably use a friend, yes I don't know what it's like in her home. But that is not what my blog is about today and I will not be swayed by my self inflicted guilt over my own weight struggles.
I want to scream, "YOU ARE KILLING YOUR CHILDREN!" and "YOUR SETTING THEM UP FOR A LIFE OF FAILURE!" and "YOUR CHILDREN WILL NEVER HAVE ANY SELF CONFIDENCE!". But I don't. I won't. I'll probably never say anything at all. But it's not because I don't care. It's because I don't like confrontation. And things like that never go well. And maybe I don't care enough... that however is for another day.
So let me say this here instead. Who knows, maybe she's a friend of a friend of a friend. Enabling your children to become obese is just as abusive as beating them or vocally torturing them. Healthy eating habits start in the home as do healthy exercise habits. And study after study after study show that parents who exercise and eat healthy raise kids who do the same. No matter how much I want to eat fried chicken every single night, I don't. No matter how much I want to eat that half gallon of dark chocolate ice cream, I don't. And even though most days, I do not feel like walking to the park with my kiddos or even taking them outside really, I still do. I am their protector, their life style educator and it's up to me to make sure they realize that their bodies are their temples and that they must respect them. Because if I don't no one else will.
So fat kids piss me off. Because it isn't within their control. If a kid under the age of 12 is obese it's the parents fault. Simple as that. Someone enabled them to be that way and it's wrong and it's abusive and it needs to be stopped. But I'm pretty sure if I called CPS with the "She's making them fat" argument I'd get laughed at. So I'll rant and rave here.
Starting with fat kids.
I know chubby babies are cute. The endless rolls of baby soft skin and triple chins and fat bulges are adorable on infants and toddlers, especially little girls in swimsuits. We pinch there adorably over flowing cheeks and gaggle along with our mommy friends about how we have to clean between their rolls of fat.
But not so much on the ten year boy old whose sitting on the bench at the park playing his Nintendo DS. Sweating from the 75 degree heat and red in the face because obviously the exertion of walking from the car to that bench, over-taxed his limited to non-existent endurance levels. And then his mother hands him a snack and I start seeing red, and not just his face. I mean I feel my head cloud over with anger and my eyes are unable to stay focused on anything else. The child walked 20 yards! And he sat his large rear end down and you gave him a snack! I'll grant you it is 3pm and he may just have gotten out of school and he might genuinely be hungry and we should definitely fuel our kids bodies. But somehow I think the Slim Jim and the Diet Coke are just not what Dr. Oz had in mind.
That my followers, is child abuse. Just as dangerous and just as traumatic as taking a right fist to his eye or swift kick to his groin. And ultimately just as painful. This child has been set up for failure. His Mother is over weight as are his two little sisters, but at least they are running around the park and climbing on the equipment.
In fact let's start with good 'ol Mom. When does the laziness kick in? Am I just not there yet? Have I just not reached the "I don't give a shit" place in my parenting journey? Because she definitely has. I normally would grant any mom the courtesy of it has been a rough day. But this is an ongoing occurrence at our park with this particular little family. I'm not trying to be mean and I can see the other side of the coin. Yes, she probably does not have any positive female influences, yes, she could probably use a friend, yes I don't know what it's like in her home. But that is not what my blog is about today and I will not be swayed by my self inflicted guilt over my own weight struggles.
I want to scream, "YOU ARE KILLING YOUR CHILDREN!" and "YOUR SETTING THEM UP FOR A LIFE OF FAILURE!" and "YOUR CHILDREN WILL NEVER HAVE ANY SELF CONFIDENCE!". But I don't. I won't. I'll probably never say anything at all. But it's not because I don't care. It's because I don't like confrontation. And things like that never go well. And maybe I don't care enough... that however is for another day.
So let me say this here instead. Who knows, maybe she's a friend of a friend of a friend. Enabling your children to become obese is just as abusive as beating them or vocally torturing them. Healthy eating habits start in the home as do healthy exercise habits. And study after study after study show that parents who exercise and eat healthy raise kids who do the same. No matter how much I want to eat fried chicken every single night, I don't. No matter how much I want to eat that half gallon of dark chocolate ice cream, I don't. And even though most days, I do not feel like walking to the park with my kiddos or even taking them outside really, I still do. I am their protector, their life style educator and it's up to me to make sure they realize that their bodies are their temples and that they must respect them. Because if I don't no one else will.
So fat kids piss me off. Because it isn't within their control. If a kid under the age of 12 is obese it's the parents fault. Simple as that. Someone enabled them to be that way and it's wrong and it's abusive and it needs to be stopped. But I'm pretty sure if I called CPS with the "She's making them fat" argument I'd get laughed at. So I'll rant and rave here.
#15: The Improv!!!
Laughter is the best medicine... this is true, very true. Yet, most of the time I completely forget how important it is. I mean I laugh, don't get me wrong. My kids are funny, my hubby is funny, I have funny friends, I do stupid things, but there is just something about a comedian! we saw Christopher Titus at The Improv on Saturday night. He was hilarious! I mean the kind of funny that makes your stomach hurt the next day from laughing so hard. The ind fo funny that keeps you laughing for days. This kind of laughter is needed in a healthy life, I believe.
Ticket prices aren't all that bad, it's a nice venue and I really enjoyed myself and I don't think I can put a price on that at all! So it's time to start looking at the calendar! I'm scheduling some laughter!
Ticket prices aren't all that bad, it's a nice venue and I really enjoyed myself and I don't think I can put a price on that at all! So it's time to start looking at the calendar! I'm scheduling some laughter!
#14: Volunteer
I used to do this a lot. Community Service was something I just did. It was expected of me and at some point growing up, its stopped be a requirement and started being something I just enjoyed. It always provided me with a sense of accomplishment. Knowing I had helped, however small the action was. In small towns, community service is at the epicenter of everything. Anything that happens in a small town has a large number of volunteers backing it. Bake sales, festivals, town dances, everything! And I miss it.
I feel it's important that my boys know how important volunteering is. To not expect anything in return for your service. A lot of young people seem endlessly entitled to me and I want my boys to understand how vital community service is. It starts at home right?
I feel it's important that my boys know how important volunteering is. To not expect anything in return for your service. A lot of young people seem endlessly entitled to me and I want my boys to understand how vital community service is. It starts at home right?
#13: Attend more Live Music Events
I thought about specifying concerts but... bands in bars or at The Arboretum work just as well also. I'm not a big music listener. I know, I know this seems weird for anyone from my general generation to read or understand. But I don't turn on music and blast out my ears and dance like a crazy person all over my house. I use music to motivate me while I work out. I listen to country stations in the car and if I must choose something to listen to while traveling it is usually Broadway musicals... they are like listening to more lively books on tape and they keep me awake.
But lately I have found myself drawn to music... consider me a late bloomer. At least I bloomed late in one department! Mostly Pop, which I realize make some of you want to vomit however, I have nothing to judge it against, my ears like what they like. I'm drawn to cheesy movies, plays and TV also so I guess it makes sense. I've always loved 80's rock (thank you Haley and Julie) and still love early 90's anything with the exception of grunge.
Certain songs take me back: Torn by Natalie Imbruglia will come on and I'm instantly 14 again. Jack and Diane by John Cougar Mellencamp and I'm 16 riding shotgun in Jessica's Camry doing absolutely nothing productive. Wilson Phillips reminds me of being a little girl and wanting nothing more than to be exactly like my sisters. Pat Green and Charlie Robison remind me of being 18 and wishing for nothing else than to be 21 so I could buy my own beer instead of flirting with some guy to buy it for me. U2 reminds me of Jason, specifically With or Without You.
The point is, my new found "passion" for music should be explored and I choose to do this by attending concerts. Or any music event. I'm too anxious most of the time. I've never been a sit and enjoy the music type of person but I think I'm becoming one. It probably has something to do with my need for calm and peace after my busy never ending mommy days. I find that I can lose myself in the music. So lose myself I will!
But lately I have found myself drawn to music... consider me a late bloomer. At least I bloomed late in one department! Mostly Pop, which I realize make some of you want to vomit however, I have nothing to judge it against, my ears like what they like. I'm drawn to cheesy movies, plays and TV also so I guess it makes sense. I've always loved 80's rock (thank you Haley and Julie) and still love early 90's anything with the exception of grunge.
Certain songs take me back: Torn by Natalie Imbruglia will come on and I'm instantly 14 again. Jack and Diane by John Cougar Mellencamp and I'm 16 riding shotgun in Jessica's Camry doing absolutely nothing productive. Wilson Phillips reminds me of being a little girl and wanting nothing more than to be exactly like my sisters. Pat Green and Charlie Robison remind me of being 18 and wishing for nothing else than to be 21 so I could buy my own beer instead of flirting with some guy to buy it for me. U2 reminds me of Jason, specifically With or Without You.
The point is, my new found "passion" for music should be explored and I choose to do this by attending concerts. Or any music event. I'm too anxious most of the time. I've never been a sit and enjoy the music type of person but I think I'm becoming one. It probably has something to do with my need for calm and peace after my busy never ending mommy days. I find that I can lose myself in the music. So lose myself I will!
#12: Play Golf
This seems so simple! I love to play. I always did. And at one point in time I was pretty damn good. But I went to college, I got married, I had babies and now I don't play anymore. I'd just like to play once or twice a month. And it's doesn't even have to be 18 holes! I'll play 9 or just hit some balls at the driving range. Anyway I can get the sticks in my hands again, I'll take it!
Monday, April 11, 2011
#11: Paint My Bedroom
If you've been in my house you know that decorating is one of my hobbies. I just love to do it. I love color and texture and fabric. I love interesting art pieces and love finding how to mix modern accents with my very traditional yet eclectic home. I don't fit in one style, I love too many things!
Most rooms have been designs and re-designed. Paint samples have been poured over and contemplated, fabrics, chosen and re-chosen. Our bedroom furniture was purchased before the house. I adore it! Very traditional, very large four poster bed. The fabrics are less traditional, more eclectic. Purples, golds, oranges, reds and this really pretty oyster shell ivory color. Rich. That is what I was going for. Not like "money=rich" but more "sumptuous=rich". A bedroom, especially a married couples bedroom, should be sexy. Very, very sexy. But not porn store sexy.
So I've bounced around paint colors over and over and over and it's time to pick one and do it!
Most rooms have been designs and re-designed. Paint samples have been poured over and contemplated, fabrics, chosen and re-chosen. Our bedroom furniture was purchased before the house. I adore it! Very traditional, very large four poster bed. The fabrics are less traditional, more eclectic. Purples, golds, oranges, reds and this really pretty oyster shell ivory color. Rich. That is what I was going for. Not like "money=rich" but more "sumptuous=rich". A bedroom, especially a married couples bedroom, should be sexy. Very, very sexy. But not porn store sexy.
So I've bounced around paint colors over and over and over and it's time to pick one and do it!
#9: Run a Half Marathon
This, honestly, seems scarier to me than natural child birth. I'm for cereals here! No Trix! Those people who "run"... I mean really run... the ones whose focus seems like it can eat you alive. Those people are the people that my nightmares are made of. This falls in line with REAL Athletics... which I always shied away from. I was a dancer. A golfer. A fisherman. Sports to me are a little wider in definition than to others. Athletics are a different topic altogether. And running is definitely one of those athletic things. But one thing, this 30 before 30 is all about, is tackling demons. Slaying my inner dragons. Facing my fears and proving that strength and perseverance and pure stubborn will power exist within me. I know I'm a strong person. But I'm also the type of person who can easily move on, put the goals aside, readdress them at a later date. Pretend that I don't have dreams and that I'm okay with mediocre. So... I'm going to run a half marathon. End of discussion.
#8: Learn to Love Running
I believe I can do this. I really, really do. It's an easy workout, it can be done anywhere, it doesn't require specialized equipment. And as I'm learning from my trainer I probably hate it currently because my muscles don't know how to do it right. You think that running should be simple. As a child it seems simple. You just do it, to get somewhere faster than you can while walking. You just ran! Well I lost this uninhibited mode of transportation somewhere (my guess, is that when coaches decided to make it a sport I lost all interest). And since my #9 require that I learn to run and at least halfway enjoy it, learning to love running seemed a perfect fit for my #8.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)