Our Middle

Suzi gave me a couple of books yesterday for inspiration and one of them is a book that the lady has all these questions that are supposed to make you "think" about stuff. For me, thinking is a simple process. I would MUCH RATHER think about something that has an answer. A problem with a solution - I might not know what the solution IS, but it's there and I can find it.

One of the questions reads: What is in between our inside and our outside? The answer comes to me instantly: our middle. Done. Now, if this person was before me, asking me this question, here is where she would start backpedaling. "No, ok, but - " or "All right, but - " or "That's not really what I meant" or on and on and on. People make up these things and inside their own head they sound so complicated. Then they put them out there in the world and they're like "Look how complicated I am. Look at the type of stuff I think up. Aren't I inspiring?"

And my own friends agree and think these people are inspiring. And they expect me to find this inspirational and "get me thinking" about what is between my inside and my outside. Well, I know the answer. My middle.

But I have something for you all to debate amongst yourselves. In New York, that little ball of fried dough that comes out of the middle of the donut, we call a "munchkin". That's what they are a Dunkin' Donuts. For us, it's like when you call a copy a "xerox" or a tissue a "kleenex". Here and in Florida, they call it a donut hole. Now, before you go talking smack about New Yorkers, I want you to think about this: holes are not balls. You can have a ball-shaped hole. But a hole, by definition, is an empty space. A hollowed place in something solid. An empty pit. Look it up.

On that note, here is a stamp I carved for our Soul Garden chatters yesterday:

I AM good enough

and so are YOU.

One of the girls in Suzi's newest class (Soul Garden) mentioned how she had done something at work that made her feel stupid and how she felt like everyone was talking about her and what she'd done. I've been there. Totally there. Paranoid. I know I'm paranoid, and I know that people really aren't that interested in me - certainly not interested enough to talk about. I also know that IN OUR MINDS we accuse people of doing things we would never do. Would you really laugh at a coworker for making a mistake? No. They're probably not laughing at you, either.

So I have a challenge. You ready? What I'd like is for you (yes, you) to reverse this thinking. Instead of shrugging off the good things you do every day and ruminating on the bad things, celebrate the good things. Today I did NOT lock myself out of my apartment!! Today I did NOT spill tea when I poured it!! Today I did NOT burn the cupcakes I baked!! Today I did NOT forget to brush my teeth!! Fuck yeah! I'm on a freaking roll!!

Wanna hear about the rest of my day? Mini and I walked to Target (it's 1.5 miles) and I didn't wear a bra. I ate a good breakfast but a crappy lunch. I printed a bunch of pictures to put around the huge canvas if the twins stadium I bought for my husband's birthday. I made a few journal cards. I let my computer die. I called my brother to check on my sister-in-law. I put one friend in touch with another who needed her. It's nearly 5pm and I haven't showered. I have homework that isn't done, and finals I haven't studied for, but I'm going to spend some time painting with my son instead - because it makes me happy and him happy. I'm AWESOME. Why do I let myself forget that? Why do I let SOMEONE ELSE decide that I'm not awesome? Why on earth would I believe them??

What IS that??

This is my hair. It's black. Those little streaks? White and yellow paint. I'm out in public, after a shower, when I notice this...

It makes me notice these things, too...

This is what happens when you paint near your computer!

Don't get me wrong - I have no problem with the paint on the computer, it was just an observation!

BIrthday pretzels!

Pretzel story: my friend Jess sent me these for my birthday. They were supposed to come two-day shipping, so I would have gotten them Friday. She texted, wanted to know if I'd gotten them. Nope. Since I live in an apartment and it's not a walk-up, the process is for the UPS man to check the call box (I'm not in there because they wouldn't put an out-of-state number in the box and I'm not changing the cell phone number I've had for a zillion years), and then to leave a sticky note on the glass door with my name and apartment number on it, telling me that the package is in the apartment office. Then I take the sticky note over to the office, with a picture ID, and they have a book with the deliveries (which are locked in a closet) written down - when they came in, how they came in (USP, USPS, etc), the name and apartment of the person. If it's on the list, they get it out of the closet, check your ID, you sign, they give it over.

My friend Jess calls UPS and they tell her it didn't get on the right truck, it's going to be late. She, of course, is pissed. It's HOT, those are CHOCOLATE, she's picturing disaster. They tell her it won't make it to me until Monday and she raises hell and they agree to send a fresh one - once this one gets here.

Monday comes and she calls me - gives me the time of delivery and the name of the person who signed for it. I look for the door sticky and it's not there, but when I actually go out into the lobby, it's sitting on the floor. So I stick it in  my notebook and write down the name of the person and blah, blah, blah. But I have school on Monday nights, and I didn't want to traipse over to the office myself and be confronted with a box that was too big for me to carry home (it's a long story, but I can't carry things with both hands, my right arm is not fully functional). Tuesday I forgot about it, we took Liam to the park when Tim got home, made fajitas, and watched the Olympics. Wednesday Tim was off and I was going to spend most of the day studying and then meeting a friend, and then studying some more. So he goes to the office for the package, then comes to pick me up that evening. He tells me there was a package in the office, but it was my contributor's copy of Suzi's book, NOT the box from my friend. Well, my friend had called UPS, confirmed the delivery, and given me a name to yell at if I needed to.

6:44 Wednesday evening, we go to the office. The sign says "open". The hours posted are 10A-7P. The doors are locked. There are people inside. I pull out my phone to call and make a fuss (embrace the mayhem)  when the girl who is supposed to be inside, helping the boy who is obviously on his day off and there to give her a hand, walks up. She lets us in, with an attitude. I explain the deal. She opens the book and points to the page where Tim's signature clearly says he's picked up a package that was delivered Monday. I tell her again that he picked up a package, but NOT the one that I know is there. Instead of looking for the actual package, she pages through EVERY piece of paper in that book, determined to prove me wrong. RIDICULOUS. She finally opens the closet and looks for the box, and it's RIGHT THERE.

So I rip it open on the seat of the car, preparing to take pictures for my angry friend so she can send them to UPS, and here is what I found:

Look at that! Perfection:

The cold packs were still cold! How great is that?? They're super tasty, too. Worth the wait!

I win!

GIANT Post-its!!

Who else tells you about these things?? You can get these 12x12 sticky notes at Target

The use of You

I've noticed a lot of people make art and/or journal pages with the word YOU when I wish they would say I. "You are enough" is not as powerful of a statement as "I am enough". We already mostly feel like the people in our lives are good enough, that's why we love them. The statement we need to see and hear and tell ourselves isn't about YOU. It's about I.

I am enough.
I am loved.
I am beautiful.

Say it. Write it. Put it in your art. Feel it.

That's me. I'm in class right now. Hair up and messy and needing to be colored. Didn't brush my teeth. It was 104 degrees today and I walked back and forth to lunch and Michael's and haven't showered yet. My shirt is from 2001, which is actually declared on my left sleeve since it was a gift from my big sister in SAI. I'm struggling to make a 3D castle in Autodesk 3DS Max 2012 (teacher is helping someone else right now). I'm wearing shorts, sneakers, and two different socks. I AM ENOUGH. Non-showered, messy haired, unbrushed teeth, mismatch socks and all. It's ALL enough. Perfectly enough. And If I can make a castle? So much the better.

Jetpens

I signed up with Jetpens to be a product tester or reviewer or whatever. It was a couple of months ago and I totally forgot about it, figuring since I'm a nobody they wouldn't send me stuff. Then they did and I'm supposed to review it and link it to them and if my blog generates enough interest, they'll send me more stuff.

Here is what they sent me:

It's tiny and has thin shitty paper.

Probably NOT the review they were hoping for, huh? Click the link to Jetpens and check out the site if you want to buy a stupid, crappy little notebook. Thanks for nothing, Jetpens!

Things People Say

There are things that people's children say to my son that he finds confusing. Example: "watch out". Seriously, people - THIS is what you say to your kids instead of "excuse me"? Watch out? There was a little boy in the pool at the same time we were and he kept saying "Hey, kid, watch out!" and Liam didn't know he was speaking to him, because those simply aren't words he knows. We also don't say "look out" or "beep beep". How many people do you know how say "beep beep" to other humans but who have NEVER honked their car horn because "that's rude"? ADULTS who say this as if we were all Sesame Street characters? I'm not a muppet, and I have been known to say "Oh, did you mean 'excuse me'?"

Second: "huh?" How many times a day does someone look at you with that dumb, scrunched up, "I'm an idiot" face and say "Huh?" like you're the stupid one? My son says "I'm sorry, could you say that again?" or "I didn't understand what you said." Or something along those lines. If you give my son the idiot face and say "Huh?" he's probably just going to look at you, eyebrows raised, and wait for you to form intelligent words.

I'm in school with a girl who speaks like a thug. There is not a single word where she says "ing", it's always "in". As in "Where we goin' for dinner?" and "I was workin' all day." and "We were hangin' out." She slurs her words slightly, like she's too lazy to move her tongue. In spite of these things, she seems reasonably intelligent, gets relatively good grades, and will be competing with me for the same jobs in a year. Now, my work is better than hers, my portfolio is better than hers, and I can't help but listen to her talk and think "Why would someone hire her over me? She sounds like a gangster." Pretend it doesn't make a difference, but it does.

Would you say "watch out" to a stranger? A coworker? Your boss? If not, why would you say it to the people closest to you? Do you forget your pleases and thank yous when you're at Thanksgiving dinner with the family? How about Tuesday night on the couch with pizza? Every generation says the one after them is screwing up the world. Lately all we hear about is how rude and impatient children are. Guess where they learn that? Oh, yeah - right at the family table.

Ha! I typed this up a few days ago and was letting it settle a little before posting it. It's kind of angry, isn't it? And yet, true, so I'm posting it anyway.

In other news, The Peeper is caught!

So, I guess I haven't really told you guys but there's been a man peeping in our windows for a couple of years. My upstairs neighbors called the police a few times, but they always came outside, saw him, he took off, THEN they called the police. I haven't really stressed about it, except I don't let Liam walk around the house naked. I don't care who sees me, but pedophiles make me sick.

Last Saturday, Tim caught him IN THE ACT. He was coming home from work at 3am, saw the man, turned off his car and called the police - while he WATCHED the guy move from window to window. Den, Liam's room, my room. Tim told the 911 operator that he was worried the guy would run if he saw police, and she told him not to worry about it.

Tim watched while a policeman walked up to the transform box the guy was hiding behind and flashed his flashlight and the guy ran. Tim said two other policemen came out of nowhere and tackled his ass. Cuffed him, took Tim's statement, told him they've been trying for a couple of years to catch this guy, and then gave him a card with Victim's Services stuff on it! We're VICTIMS! Who knew? Apparently I should be more upset about this than I am, but I just can't work myself up to it. Liam sleeps in my room, and my blinds are ALWAYS closed - even during the day - so I don't really see the point of the peeping.

Here's the newspaper article all about it: Peeper. He's still in jail and is not getting out, except to be deported. Good stuff, right? The legal system at work! We tried to find his mug shot, but we haven't been able to so far.

Confusion

I hear parents confuse their children every single day and then punish them for it. My own mother was puzzled about why I would put my one-year-old in time out for pressing the Power button on the TV. Was is an enormous deal that he was pressing the button? Of course not. My issue was this: If I let him do it here, he's not going to understand why he can't do it somewhere else. I've walked into restaurants where a small child or two are wandering aimlessly around while their parents eat. Then when they see us come in they're like "OK, guys. Someone's here. You gotta come sit down." And while the kids are screaming and crying because they don't understand, the parents are saying things like: "I told you you could only do that until someone else got here." Just the other day I was at our local indoor play area and heard a mom telling her three-year-old daughter that she could no longer shove her baby doll stroller down the slides because there were other kids there now. The little girl was obviously baffled and simply stood there for awhile trying to understand what she'd done wrong, why she wasn't allowed to play with her doll in the way she was five minutes ago. What do those other kids have to do with her behavior? Answer: NOTHING.

I don't give parenting advice. I don't think I have any useful advice to give. Except maybe one thing: behavior can't be modified for different situations. If it's not OK to shove your baby doll stroller down the slide when other kids are there, then it's not OK. If it's not OK for kids to wander around restaurants when other people are there, then it's not OK. So may people are like "I don't understand why my kid is acting like this." when they know perfectly well it's because "last time" this was ok and "this time" it's not. OR they say "Oh, it's because last time when no one was with us, I let her do..." First of all, if you think it's OK for your kid to do something LET THEM DO IT. I am absolutely NOT going to decide how your kids should behave - unless it affects MY kid. You want your kids to run along the benches in the play area, that's totally fine. NO, I'm not going to let my kid. Because I said so, that's why. If your kid reaches for food on my plate, I will absolutely stop that behavior myself but if you want her to grab stuff of your plate, that's COMPLETELY FINE. My kid is going to sit with his butt on the chair and use a fork. He's going to say please and thank you, and speak in a nice tone of voice - and I don't have to say these things to him repeatedly because this is how I expect him to act ALL THE TIME. Not just in front of people. I might have to remind him to put his butt down, or to not hold his fork like a shovel. But he's not going to look at me, baffled. He's going to say "Oh, yeah." and adjust to how he knows I expect him to behave.

I know, I ramble and most of you guys probably don't even have kids, so you're thinking "What's the POINT?" My point is this: I am teaching my child NOT ONLY how to behave correctly, but also that we do NOT change our behavior depending on people or situations. We do the RIGHT THING when other people are there AND when we're by ourselves or alone. I am NOT a different person depending on who is there. I am also teaching him that he is not the only person on the planet and that the world doesn't revolve around him. That things are not always equal. He knows he can't have every single thing he wants. Don't get me wrong - I spoil him as much as possible. Sometimes we eat ice cream instead of dinner. But he also knows that when I say NO, that's my final answer. There is no begging. Mommy does NOT give in. I'm firm. He knows he doesn't rule the roost. But today when he gets off the bus and I'm waiting at the end of the sidewalk, he'll RUN to me with his arms open RIDICULOUSLY wide and I'll scoop him off his feet and spin him around and then we'll make cookies. Because I love him and he knows it.

I just want to add this: I know that different parenting stuff works for different people. Kids are all different, parents are all different. People are all different! I just think it's sad when people confuse their kids and then get all angry with them. Just do what you think is right, what works for you - and do it consistently. Screw everyone else. Go with what works, what feels right. Don't let "other people" decide how you let your child behave. What you think is right IS what's right. It is. No matter what anyone else says.

The secret of the Rubik's Cube!

My brother always gets all annoyed with his Rubik's cube because he can "do" one side. That's fine, it's exactly how you start. But here's the thing.  This is NOT necessarily correct:

 THIS is how you know it's correct:

This photo is borrowed from Ajae - see how the green is all done but there's orange, red, and yellow all next to each other? That can't be correct. 

So that is my (very well-known) secret for you. Start with one side - but make sure ALL the colors line up. The rest is CAKE!

FUDGE!!!

Yes, is IS awesome!!

Christmas Tree :)

I'm surprised how much I love our Christmas tree!! We live in a small place and we're pretty..."poor" doesn't seem like the right way to put it, but I'm not sure what the "correct" term would be. So, small place, one teeny half-filled box of decorations (the tree is the ONLY thing that gets decorated), I was feeling a little sad about it. Especially because of the Thanksgiving incident at Kelly's, and they have such a beautiful house and so does Ajae, and they both get a LOT more festive (at least cosmetically!) for the holidays. But I am in LOVE with this tree! 

Look how pretty it is!!

And here is is all tacky'd up, just how I like it! 

AND, you see that sliding door behind it? When you pull into our apartment complex, we live in the first apartment in the first building, and you can see the tree through the glass door!! It's pretty and I love it. 

Christmas decorations...

Kelly sent me a picture of five or six HUGE plastic bins of Christmas decorations she had the kids haul up from the basement and this is what I sent her back:

That's every single bit of my Christmas decorations!! Does that make me a terrible person? I LOVE Christmas, but we live in a small apartment with a small child. So it's not like I could put out ceramic houses or anything. Last year was the first time in seven years of marriage that we even had a tree...