Soap Box

All right - its time again for me to climb up on my soap box and tell you how I feel. :)

Today's victim, er...topic would be people who use the word "retarded" to describe things that they find either odd, stupid, defective, slow, or some other real or imagined hindrance. 

I've never been able to use the word in a derogatory way.  I feel skeevy being around people who use it so lightly, so flippantly.  I can recall using it once - and I felt so bad that I just couldn't do it again.  Just last week at work I heard it and was like - Yeah, I don't like that word.  The person who said it agreed that it shouldn't have been said, but....it was already out there.  Why do we think that's ok? 

For a long time, I used the word "renob" instead.  Like "boner" but backwards - Boner Stabone, anyone?  And now I can't use that because it sounds too much like I'm going to say "retard" instead.  Ugh.  

I know that a lot of people lately are all touchy-feely and think that we're raising overly sensitive kids.  I agree on a lot of fronts with that, but I don't feel that this is one that is being overly sensitive.  Why would it be ok?  

T-Dogg came home from school one day last year and they had a session about replacing the "R Word" with Respect.  And I looked at him and asked - would you have ever used it in a "bad" way?  Because I don't want to set the example that it's ok to do so.  And so I know, without a doubt, that he has never heard it from either his mom or his dad in the derogatory way. That fact makes me feel like we're doing a good job.  Sure, he's 7 and can't tie his shoes yet, but he knows the difference between right and wrong.  :) 

You may now resume your regularly scheduled programming.

Cleanin cleanin cleanin

I am in a Clean Sweep mood.  Remember that show?  It was great, with Peter the organizer and the somewhat irritating construction guy who could build anything?  Loved it. 

DH and I cleaned out the garage yesterday.  Big pile of toss, big pile of "needs to leave this house" and unfortunately, the biggest pile was keep.  Sigh.  Though, to be fair, the most stuff was Christmas, Halloween and Easter things.  And I was able to organize a bunch more of it into tubs because I've gotten rid of SO MUCH OTHER STUFF that I have this huge pile of empty plastic tubs.

The only room in the house that still needs some help would be the office/guest room/crafty room.  I found some shelving at IKEA that I want to get.   Oh and I need to redo the pantry.  And the china hutch.  Ok, so I guess I still have some work to do. :)

So why do I love cleaning out that clutter but hate regular ol' cleaning? 

Yes, me too!

Yes, I'm writing tonight about it being time to go back to school.  Yes, I know that everyone and their DOG for pete's sake have written about this if they have a child who will be going to school or if they once smelled a child who was walking by on their way to school.   Whatever, don't judge. 

So anyway.  Two years ago, our oldest went to Kindergarten.  We went to a back-to-school night about a week before school started that was specifically for kindergarteners.  It was great.  They met the teachers, unpacked their stuff, learned where the bathrooms and gym and lunch room were.  It was all very organized and orderly and put this first time momma at ease. 

Now, back-to-school night is with all kids - Pre-K through Seniors.  It's a madhouse.  Not much organization when you're walking around.  Sure, we got their stuff put away and met their teachers (2nd Grade and Kindergarten) and the water fountains and whatnot.  But I still feel so disorganized.  Like, did I tell the teachers that the boys are riding the bus home instead of to the after-school program?  Did I mention to J-Bird's teacher that he just got his glasses earlier this week and we need to be watching him a little closer to make sure he gets used to them?  Did I tell T-Dogg's teacher that he just had his adenoids out and has been having a sore neck? 

No, I don't know that I told them any of that.   I can't guarantee that I sent my two oldest boys to school with all the prep that I could do for them and with them.  And I agonized all day. 

Did they make it home on the right bus?  Yep.  Did J-Bird lose/break/mangle his glasses?  Nope.  Were they worn out and ready for an early bedtime tonight?  Damn straight.  Ah, my work here is done.  :)

Only to do over again and again for the next how many years??? 

Oh my.

The other night, J-bird gives me a hug and then asks if he touched my privates.  Um, no, no you did not. 

"But isn't your wiener right there?" he asked.

"No, mommy doesn't have a wiener." 

"Are you kidding me? Are you joking with me?  How do you pee?"

So T-Dogg pipes up from the table with, "girls use their butts." 

Ah, yes, the old pee out your butt trick.  It's a fan favorite, I'm sure.  As the only girl in a house with 4 boys in it, I think I deserve to have three locks on the bathroom door.  Just to be safe.  Sigh. 

All this while DH sits at the table doing homework.  His shoulders were shaking but he wouldn't look up and help me out.  Bastard.

I don't get it.

So a few weeks ago, I was leaving a meeting and heading back to my office.  I was driving through an alley and stopped where it met the street, where there was quite a line-up of vehicles waiting for the traffic light to change.

Directly in front of me was some sort of SUV, it was red but I couldn't tell you what kind, because I'm a girl.  In the backseat, which was level with my eyes, was a little boy.  He was probably 2 years old, 3 at most.  The window was down and he was wearing the cutest little sunglasses and was singing along with some song on the radio.  I couldn't hear him, but I could see his mouth just going. 

I smiled at him and he smiled back at me.  I wiggled my fingers and he wiggled back at me.  And then...even though the light hadn't changed yet, his mom inches the SUV forward and his window slowly raises until it's closed. 

Um really?  Am I some scary chick?  I've got three boys of my own - and I don't mind when people make goofy faces at them and make them laugh.  Sometimes I am a little leery when we're out in the open or in a store and someone comes right up to them and gets in our space.  But to be completely safe, in your own car, all buckled and feel the need to cut off the interaction?  It's not like I parked, got out of my Yukon and walked up to his window.  No, I stayed in my vehicle, all my windows up, just waiting my turn to get onto the street. 

Do we really have reason to be THAT nervous?  Ok, I mean, I work in FARGO for pete's sake.  I was just so surprised and I'm sure I made a face like - REALLY??? 

Trust me, I can be a mama bear too but I just thought that was overboard.  What do you think?   Sure, maybe they have had some bad experiences but wow.  I'm still floored. 

I fought the law and ... I won

Well, maybe I shouldn't say that I fought the LAW per se, but more like a determined Target employee.

I'm about to reveal something that I don't believe I have ever shared with anyone.  Not even DH knows this one.  Ok, so I may have told a friend after a few Morgan Diets, but I don't recall and so I'm going to say that IF that has happened, it doesn't count. :)

So in the summer before 8th grade, I was at the mall with my mom and sister.  We had a set time to meet and I was wandering somewhat aimlessly - at Dayton's or JC Penney's eyeing the Guess? and Girbaud jeans that I knew my mom would not spring for.  I finally started through Target (which at that time was attached to the mall in Grand Forks).  I had no money.  I had no ambition.  Maybe I wanted to feel pretty, I don't know. All I know is that somehow, I ended up with a compact of compressed powder in my hands and a pounding heart as I eluded capture. 

I guess I should clarify.  Or maybe you figured it out.  You are a smartie after all. 

I got it in my head that if I took it OUT of its packaging, no alarms would go off and it'd be easy to pass off as if I had carried it INTO the store with me.  But I didn't.  Oh no, I sure didn't.  And seriously, my heart is pounding now even admitting this!  20 years have passed and I still am nervous to say it out loud! 

Enter one determined Target employee.  I was in some of the clothing racks and kind of had my hands in where the clothes touched each other - very hard to see.  But I guess he saw.  I don't know what, maybe it was the guilty face.  Or the fact that the packaging I removed had fallen to the ground.  I don't know.  All I know is that he gave me a look.  And I freaked. 

Enter my stealth evading of capture.   I walked calmly, if quickly.  Weaving in and out of clothing racks, areas of the store and I did catch sight of him a couple of times.  Until at last.  I passed through to the promised land - the courtyard of the mall.  Out of Target.  No alarms.  No bells.  No whistles.  No employee chasing me out of the store.  I totally won. 

And I am SOOOO happy that Target is no longer attached to the mall in Grand Forks.  I can shop in peace when I'm in town there.  No worries that the dedicated Target employee will recognize me and chase me down now!  Muah ah ah ah. 

The guilt.  All for what - $4.59 Covergirl makeup?  Such is the life. 

Hug it Out

How do you know when someone is a hugger or not?  Do you hug anyway?  Is there a hugging etiquette out there? 

I'm a hugger.  I love to hug.  I like to hug hello, goodbye, sorry to hear about that, yay for you and yours, etc.  Any occasion is a good time for a hug.

BUT there is always a little voice in my head that questions whether or not the recipient is happy to get hugged or not.  If you're hugging good-bye, do you have to hug EVERYONE or just a select few?  And how long is too long?  There's always that almost imperceptible shift when either the hugger or the huggee decide that it's been long enough and try to extricate themselves from the embrace. 

We had friends in Denver who were actually kissers.  Like smack dab on the mouth when they saw you.  They were from NYC, so maybe that's the way things are done out there, ehhh??  (Imagine Buddy Valastro saying that with an East Coast accent - not so much the Fonz). 

I have a friend who is most definitely NOT a hugger.  She looks completely uncomfortable when you make the move to hug her and just kind of gives you a pat on the back as she's searching for the exits with her eyes.  I've got other friends who hold on for dear life and you're considering gnawing off their arms to get them to let go.

My boys love hugs.  And I am taking advantage of it while I still can.  I know that eventually they will stop running for hugs from mom.  But for now...I will hug on them as much as possible!  Gotta get my fix somehow!  (J-bird ran up to me tonight for a quick hug after he hadn't seen me for a couple hours and I couldn't stop thinking about how sweet it was.  Had to write a post). :)