Lost Causes or the Patron Saint

In the past seven days, the issue of prayer came up in two of my books, neither were on theology. Humor and hopelessly romantic despondency themed, on women making a change in life. One a book of fiction the other a book on personal self discovery. The more I compare the contents more common themes come to mind. Coincidence? Oprah, God bless her soul, once said there is no such things and I agree. So as I read or should I say devoured the books while on vacation, I marveled on the idea of prayer, so much so, I added a prayer to a God, who ever was listening at the time and one to St Jude, the patron Saint of lost causes, not that a lost cause existed but a prayer never the less for any assistance to help with my issue.

As the pages turned and St Jude became a desperate metaphor in the one book, it made me think of how my little issue could be a lost cause and ammended my prayer accordingly. I love the power of prayer and from time to time I like to use it when necessary. Usually I like solving things completely on my own, independently. But in this occasion, I left on vacation with an aching desire for something to turn out it my favor. So, there not so crazy an idea but much like the heroine in the book, desperate. And so, while in the mountains, I took the time to reflect and pray a little bit more adding details to each one. At one point, I outlined exactly word for word how my prayer should be answered. Talk about being presumptuous, a bad habit of mine.

Seven days later, after piling into my home with luggage, toys, shoes and several insect bites, I took a chance of glancing at the phone. Yes, there was a message. I reviewed the callers and seen part of my prayer was answered but avoided listening to the actual message. Twenty-four hours later, my son pushed play while I showered and happily expressed I had a meeting the next day, to my delight. Half my prayer was answered. So, if my prayer to God and to Ste Jude worked and now I waited for the final results, I impatiently asked in one last addendum for an answer to come by the next day, no sense in letting the suspense eat at me.

Picture my cockiness and over confident self rubbishing through life with my nose in the air. Mind you I did thank the Gods for everything and began thinking of the thank you I would write. In fact it happened today and lst night I went to bed with sugar plum fairies in my dreams. Boy did I get my answer faster than I expected and astonished more so with the results.

So here goes, I thank you St Jude for answering my prayers in a timely and efficient manner and quite surprisingly too and for answering all my future prayers. I may not completely understand how I got what was giveth but I know there is a reason. And in time I will understand. Have a great day in Saintville and keep up the good work.

Birthdays

Is it just me or do most women over 40 feel the same way about birthdays as they do about, let's say, going to the dentist? With another one under the belt this past week, there was little build up to it. I marvelled birthdays past but now with each passing year it reminds me of this analogy a friend said years ago: "Double your age, when we turn 20 we can easily see ourselves at 40, at 30 we can easily see ourselves at 60, 40 is somewhat different, seeing ourselves at 80 is tricky." That puts things into perspective.

This year, I bought my own cake, hot husband with instructions in hand did not buy me anything after the costly microwave repair I took as a birthday present. Imagine, I choose an appliance as a birthday present, this says much. In keeping with the festive mood, the cake made it ways onto the forks of my always hungry boys and the only lingering thought of my birthday was the cards on my table from the boys.

Hot husband gave me a silly card of love, when opened a couple moved and the husband dipped his wife and kissed her. I opened it once and the couple became unglued, falling to the floor. I wondered, is this a sign.

Birthdays were a big deal to me. My mom made me one birthday party when I turned seven. I got a new blue bike and as I went to make my wish, my younger sister blew out my candle. Hence my fascination with birthdays, my sister can attest to it. By the end of the summer my bike made it into the hands of my brother and his friends for parts. Growing up I imagined finding a spouse who would throw me surprise parties to show his undying love for me. For years I would secretly wishing coming home to a surprise birthday party, with my house filled with friends. It didn't happen but a girl can dream. Hot husband is not a party planner but he can throw a very intimate dinner for two together on occasion. I just made an excuse for my husband, ugh.

Birthdays also signified a new beginning, a year ahead filled with hope. That this would be the year things come together, finally. Full of hope and a little fear that things would remain the same. I am not quite sure of what I wanted to change or gain but it was there. I put a lot of stock in birthdays probably as much as people put into New Years resolutions. In my early twenties, I purchased all the magazines for the birthday horoscopes. At times, grudgingly rereading them months later to discover my life swayed in different directions. Hence, birthdays.

Since turning forty, by the way, I threw my own party and celebrated the big 4-0 in style. Birthdays took on a whole new life or lack their of. Sneakingly suspicious, I did an informal poll amongst 40-45ish women and discover my neurosis on birthdays was actually quite prevalent among the group. I summed it up to the next big one is 50, which is the new 30 and I have ever intention of soaking those years up too. So for all those celebrating, I mean just having another birthday, happy one. :)

Rain, rain go away

Come back another day, no come back after Labor Day. In the the northeast, it has rained everyday for the past to weeks. Hello, it's not Vancouver, Mother Nature!!!

Today, the first day of vacation at the cottage will most likely end at home. The boys and I will trek to the cottage and see if it's safe. The word on the cabin circuit is that some small bridges washed from this rain that has plagued us . I am not worried it affecting my cottage but we'll see.
Reminiscent of last year, the rain hampers summer plans and forces us to stay in our homes. Unlike Vancouver where the residents acclimatize to wet weather and go on with their lives, Northeasterners whine and complain and stay in doors. We deserve better after making it through the long winters.

As my dad would say the only thing this much rain is good for are the farmers and their fields. Enjoy.

Happy Father's Day

It my second father's day without mine. Today, I will remember him as this bigger than life figure in my life like only a daughter can.

My dad was not the best dad growing up. My parents' marriage was tumultuous at best with an undying love for one another mixed in there. Much like oil and vinegar. Strange but true my parents dated for years after the divorce, living seperately and happily for a while. My dad began making grand gestures most of the time involving his children but my mother didn't fall for them. They cut each other loose for good when I was about 18 and heading to college.

My dad took it bad and I didn't see him regularly for a couple of years. Then my mom died suddenly and my dad was now a single father of a large broad of children. He stood up to the plate humbly and greatly.

He became an attentive dad in our lives regularly and I loved and cherished every moment. He was there for the birth of my son, for most birthday parties and holiday dinners. He was a great dad. The other day I caught myself looking up his long winding road for his pickup. A tell tale sign he's home but instead their was a foreign vehicle in his parking spot. In that moment, I missed him dearly. Just a quick visit on my lunch hour, catch up as we sat in front of his blaring television of some hunting or fishing show. My dad was a man's man. An outdoorsman who spent many hours in the bush or at his cabin until the day he died. Sometimes, he had papers for me to read over for him other times he would complain about his sons. Sometimes, he would recount stories from his youth. All times I would sit there like a perfect daughter and listen.

But life goes on: we are born and we die. It's fact. What's even truer is today is a day to celebrate your dad whether he is here in flesh or spirit. Enjoy and have a wonderful day.

Friends

Dinner with my BFF and her family last night was a blast. Now that our children are older, they actually play with one another. So there we sat, two girls who met in college and remained good friends for over 20 years, smiled and admired our brood.

We came from opposite worlds: a rez kid and a worldly girl. Our differences are as huge as our similarities. Some years later: we celebrate Orthodox Easter through our husbands, live ten minutes apart, not planned, our children are similar in ages and we married within a year of each other. Our differences are what brought us together, she came from stable family, while my parents were divorced. She lived all over the world by time she was 18, I lived in one place all my life. She was a straight shooter while I continually tested the limits in much of everything. She has only a brother, I have five sisters.

There were years we didn't see each other and years we were in constant touch. Today, we both plan events at our respective jobs, although on much different scales. We both have a mother-in-law and no father-in-law. While I am quick on the trigger, she is more forbearing. I complain, she listens. She hates talking on the phone, I just started hating talking on the phone. We share our everyday mothering experiences, talk about our husbands, laugh and sometimes cry.

She is simply a great friend.

Happy Easter - "Christos Anesti!"

When I was young Easter marked the one event of the year I could count on when my mother adorned her daughters with new clothes for church. One year, I got a new tan knee length coat, another year a new dress and the next a new hat. Skipping ropes, marbles and chocolate were added bonus too. At that young age, I had no clue Easter would come twice in my home as an adult. Traditional Easter this coming weekend and Orthodox Easter the following.

This Sunday, Easter is with my sister and her family. She's doing most of the cooking and baking, something she loves. Of course, my boys will overdose on chocolate, luckily they can run it off outdoors. Best is spending the day with my sisters and their families.

Next Sunday, Orthodox Easter is at my home and celebrated with my in-laws and some of my family too. In my books, it tops celebrations. It's the most important time in the Orthodox calendar culminating with a huge festive dinner on Sunday.

What's not to love. Happy Easter, "Christos Anesti!"

Random Things about Me

1. I am lucky in a dumb way
2. I like to argue just to argue
3. I am clumsy
4. Seven is my favorite number
5. Forgot the exact date I met my husband
6. Talk too much
7. Hate to answer my cell phone but love to call on it
8. Been called a queen on more than one occasion
9. My uncle thinks I met Nelson Mandela instead I visited Madame Toussauds in London
10. I was a tomboy in my teens
11. I find British humor down right hilarious and entertaining
12. Got dumped once for not having a car
13. I pile things
14. Would love to try speed dating to see what all the fuss is about
15. I am a terrible singer
16. I love the Rolling Stones
17. The human brain fascinates me
18. Love my siblings but always wished I was an only child
19. Paris is still on my agenda of things to do before a certain age
20. Have an affinity for purses and shoes.

Trust your gut

I need to learn to trust more in general. Maybe, beginning with myself or more precisely my gut. As an idiot who prided herself in following my intuition there are times when it goes over my head.

Last week is a prime example with my son's practice mix up by the coach. None the less, leaving a couple of hockey mom's in a tizzy, including myself. But in the span of a couple of hours, my gut gave me clues that I ignored, no less than three times. That's where I am an idiot because I even read a book on using your intuition.

So trust your gut. It comes in all shapes and forms.

Year of the Whiners

I am changing the Year of the Ox to the Year of the Whiners. Is it just me or does it seem like people are whining more than ever? Take for example the moan spewed by Bernie Madoff about his house arrest, liking living in a penthouse paid for by some 13,000 investor’s money is a hardship, imagine Riker’s. Or Gwyneth Paltrow’s pretentious spiel as a down to earth perfect whiny ass rich actress who finds it pompous to be photographed with her husband. Or the ex-wife of a retired famous baseball player chasing him down NYC streets yelling and screaming he’s a loser. Closer to home, I noted it in my boys, in acquaintances. This general whimper is everywhere.

I noted this rash bellyache syndrome in the past couple of weeks. Gone are the days we read about the flamboyant lifestyles Wall Street or the celebrity hogs vying for 15 minutes of fame. You can name last year as the “Year of the Wannabe.” I Wannabe an A-List actor, banker, chef, perfect real-wife, motorcycle mechanic…… You get the gist of last year. Gone with them are the days of excess.

Now are the days of whining. Is it in the cards or in the stars this particular month or year is all about “poor me”? Am I spewing the whine as I write about it? Probably. It’s the year we hear it in all areas, for some people whine is all they can do as they lose their home to foreclosure or their job to downsizing. Who can blame the average folk for being caught in the middle of a very deep recession? We can listen because it’s sad and heart wrenching to us. We want to help, we want to be good neighbors, caring citizens because most of us are just regular average folks.

It it is quite difficult to endure the whine of people who are not in contention to lose their job or their home, who command a high or wealthy lifestyle and complain publicly when it's in jeopardy. It irks even the saintliest of people to hear of these types people cry foul. And that’s my point, this is the Year of The Whine not the Ox. Where's the ear plugs, honey.

Mind Your Own Business: MYOB

I sat my son down the other day and with an authoritative mom voice telling him to mind his own business (MYOB) at school. It comes on the heel of situations, let's say, that involve my boy. To illustrate how to MYOB I gave lame examples of walking away from situations, playing in another areas in the school yard and explicitly remind him to keep his hands to himself.

Then I thought about it this morning and MYOB is easier said than done even for adults. Imagine we stay in our own business and not in others? What fun would that be? Frankly, an entire industry is based on this: celebrity media. Imagine they mind their own business making check out lines bland of glossy magazines. Now that's some revolution. Some celebrities would cry foul.

MYOB is a novel concept and works quite effectively staving off visits to the principle's office if my son wraps his mind around it. Can adults do the same? Actually, in a span of 24 hours count how many times your focus is on others. The problems occurs when we finish observing and involve ourselves through opinion, comments and/or discussions of others business.

Call it human nature to some degree that we cannot stay in our own business. It's a trait intrinsic to us to be inquisitive and explore. But we can establish boundaries on a personal level to stay in our own business. Do you really need to know your neighbors salary or an acquaintances relationship story? No, but finding out certain things about others drives our curiosity and makes us want to get in their business.

MYOB is really easier said than done but attainable to some extent. Does it really matter that your neighbor's salary is less than yours and that an acquaintance is lucky in love. What matters is you, really! It's the message I spew daily to my boys hoping they we get it.

It's been a while......

It's has been quite a number of days since I posted any items due to the lack of time, hmmm. My day begins quite early or used too. Normally, I am up just before six am, shower, let my hair air dry somewhat. My hair is very thick and takes 15 minutes to blow dry so I shower early and let it room dry so by time I make my way to dress and fancy up for the day, it takes only five minutes to blow dry. Since leaving my job last year, my routine morphed into a late sleeper, 7 am, at best leaving little or no time to write in blissful peace and quiet. Once 7:30 rolls around the boys are up and Hot Husband is on his way to work. Some days I am out the door with the boys. As most moms know life is quite hectic between 4pm and 9pm with preparing dinner, homework, baths, laundry, the list goes on. By time I have time to myself it's 9:30pm, 10pm. I tried a couple of times to write in bed with my laptop or note pad to no avail, my eyes slowly close, nodding off several times before calling it quits and going to bed.

So I am basically blaming my busy life as a mom and wife, aaagghhhh. That reminds me of Miranda in the Sex in the City movie, using her career, her son and her husband as an excuse for her woes.

But it's not only that, there are times when everything is perfect except the words and ideas do not flow. So, today, I am going to look for ways to stay motivated and find time during my day to jot down some of my ideas.

New Year's Resolutions: Bah Humbug

Not one for making or keeping a New Year's Resolution because they set you up for failure. Many, many years ago with good intentions my list of resolutions made it into my journal. Wholeheartedly and wishful thinking, I put admirable and at best unachievable goals like lose 20 pounds by Valentine's Day. Uggg, 20 pounds less would put me in the hospital. Or dump the cheating boyfriend, find a boyfriend. Or quit smoking. Or fit into a size eight tight fit CK jeans. All unrealistic and doomed to fail except maybe the cheating boyfriend.

I did eventually quit smoking without a New Year's resolution and I did lose the 20 pounds only to get them back in my forties. It is not to say do not try, by all means do. It's been said the more times tried any one particular goal eventually will lead to success. Like changing your career, how doing you know it will succeed? You don't. We all need goals in much of anything we do, however; with all the hype that starting a new year with a list of them don't you think it's a bit much. Start a goal anytime of the year. I quit smoking in the month of August with no much fanfare but a deep rooted determination. I lost 30 pounds before, during and after the holidays and dumped the cheating boyfriend in the fall of 1988.

Any day is a good day to achieve a goal. New Year's can be one of them but there are 364 other days to choose from too.