A Nod to Good Friends

A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him, I may think aloud.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Early this evening I dropped a friend of at the airport who made the effort to visit with me during a business trip from London. Her visit was short and sweet and though we hadn't seen each other in six months we reconnected from where we left off -- it was a great visit and I thoroughly enjoyed her company. As we said goodbye to each other I felt truly honored and proud to know her. Why? Because she is a good friend in the truest, most honorable, sincerest and purest forms. In all the years I have known her, she has never faltered or betrayed me.

I've known this friend since our first days of high school and we are both still connected to other friends from our high school years. These friends too, are just as important to me with reciprocal amounts of sincerity and honesty. I have no doubt in my mind that they have a huge part in shaping the person I am today. Never have they faltered from their post of trusted and reliable friend. Sure, there will be periods of time that we do not speak with each other as our lives take control of us and our time becomes a precious commodity, but doubt has never cast a shadow over our friendship. For that I am very grateful and feel so very blessed.

My fortune of good friendships does not end here though. As I've moved through life, from England to the United States, from single life to married life, from student to motherhood I have found new unbridled friendships. They are as expressive as they are real. Without them, my world would be a lonely and unforgiving place. The time, thought and consideration they have given me has been immeasurable.

To all of you, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm so proud and so honored to call you a friend and I thank you for accepting me and showing me kindness.

I love you.

Mother's Day

It is Mother's Day in England today, also known as "Mothering Sunday". I dutiful sent of a card to my mother (amazing feat for me, as I've failed at the task for many a year -- sorry mum) and gave her a call early in the morning 12am California time, 8am GMT.

I celebrated the day through my children. Every hold, every gesture, every touch embraced with the gratitude that I have two healthy, happy children to call my own. After all, it is for them and their reliance and trust in me that I can call myself a mother. The way I see it, Mother's Day is a day to celebrate the birth of my children as much as it is to be honored for the role I play in raising them.

I got to wonder though. What is the history behind mothers day and why is it celebrated on a different time of year to the U.S.A. ? My family and friends, I have the answer for you. It turns out to be quite interesting if care to read on.

Mother's Day, also commonly referred to as "Mothering Sunday", is believed to have originated from the 16th century in England and is celebrated on the fourth day of Lent (three weeks before Easter). Traditionally it was used as a day when church goers would visit their "Mother Church" to meet with extended family, honor Jesus Christ and the Mother Mary. To some extent Christians still attend their Mother Church but for the most part Mother's Day has evolved into celebrating and giving thanks to Mothers.

Mother's Day in the U.S.A. on the other hand, considered an import from England, was originally initiated after the American Civil War with the intent to invite women to call for peace but was not formally recognized May 10, 1908 in West Virginia. Six years later, in 1914, President Woodrow Wilson declared the first Mother's Day as a day for Americans to show the flag in honor of mothers who had lost sons in combat.

For more detailed information please refer to my favorite quick reference, Wikipedia, that the above was obtained from.

White Collar Sweat Shop

I read this book in college and was well aware, from first hand experience and that of my husband, the kind of hostile environment corporate work was becoming -- longer working hours, extended work weeks that rolled over into the weekend, fewer perks, less job security and the list goes on. The voices of my parents and grandparents juxtaposed the images of White Collar Sweat Shop in the background with talks of trade unions, wage vs. salary and job security and I realized how quickly time can change all things, great and small. After all, all I'm really talking about here is thirty or so years between two generations.

I joked recently to a friend that my new fantasy was to be a "housewife in the fifties". At least then, I said, "I'd be recognized for the "work" I was doing and I'd have my husband back at a reasonable hour with plenty of opportunity for some relaxed family time." This joke, and partial wishful thinking, would have ruffled my feminist feathers when I was graduating from high school sixteen years ago but today it is a reflection of my growing frustration with the demands made upon my family.

To cut to the chase, the last few months have been a real test of patience and understanding. My husband (whom I love more than ever, and more with each day that passes)has been working insane hours. Without having actually logged his hours of work I'd guesstimate he's at least putting in eighty hours a week. He regularly stays overnight near his customer sites and within the last three months has been out of state on business two times. We've all definitely felt the strain.

My husband recognizes the time he's missing out on with his children and the time he's missing out with me as much as we all miss his presence. The whole family has been learning to accept our new reality as my husband's work continues to demand so much of him and his time. Dinner time when daddy's home now becomes something to celebrate, embrace and enjoy. The map puzzle of the United States gets pulled out anytime Daddy goes out of state so we can see where Daddy is travelling to, my trips to the market with both kids have become increasingly educational and fun (for the kids) and less errand like, cooking dinner has become an art form as I entertain my one and a half year old wrapped around my leg or otherwise entertained by the washing machine on its final spin , and run commentary on my four and half year old performing animal sounds and gestures (or operate the remote control for the DVD player) all while I'm thinking of what tomorrow is going to bring.

As I sit here tonight and reflect on all of this, I realize that I have finally come to accept the new reality I've found myself in and have stopped trying to change the things I can't change and started to appreciate all that I have that much more. It has been and is a challenge to find the right balance of meeting my own needs and that of my family, but when I've got it right -- the result has been magical, priceless and seemingly timeless.

Maggie: The Things She Says

Oh Maggie, Oh Maggie. You make my heart sing.

I just have to share a couple of things Maggie recently said to me through the course of the last few days.

While we were working on a puzzle together that detailed the alphabet and an occupation to match Maggie announced in a rather authoritative style that, "A fire-fighter is a person that comes to your house with a hose and makes the fire disappear and a police-officer is someone who helps you get home when you're lost." Oh how I wish I had the cam-corder running.

Breakfast time: After cleaning her plate from one of her many favorite breakfasts' (egg in a hole with maple syrup) she threw her hands in the air, jumped down from the table and said, "Oh! I need to run and wash my hands. They're stickier than a frogs tongue!"

And last, but not least...

Most recently, Maggie has become very interested in her dear grandparents from England. It's clear that she loves them very much despite that fact that she does not get to seem them as often as we would all like. She has volunteered to draw pictures for them and initiated phone calls and video conferencing. It warms my heart that she has a bond with my parents despite the mere 5456 plus miles between Bourne, the U.K. and California the U.S.A.-- not to mention the eight hours time difference.

However, I'm beginning to get a little puzzled by some of her comments as according to Maggie, she's been having several conversations with Grandpa Brian I do not know about. On the way to school last week she told me the Grandpa Brian said, "... dinosaurs are still alive. They're just very good hiders and like to eat meat." There was another comment she gave me last week about something grandpa Brian said too -- unfortunately I cannot recall the details but I'll be sure to post in comments if it comes back to me.

Now, is it just a mother's love that enjoys such comments or are they endearing to others too?

Just a Mom

Here's a copy of an email a good friend of mine forwarded to me. I loved it, and can certainly see why she thought to send it to me. Proud to be a SAHM.


JUST A MOM?
A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 'S office
Was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.
She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the recorder,
"do you have a job or are you just a......?"
"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.
"I'm a Mom"
"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it,"
Said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the
Same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.
The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised,
Efficient and possessed of a high sounding title like,
"Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."
"What is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it?
I do not know.
The words simply popped out.
"I'm a Research Associate in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and
Looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.
Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written,
In bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest,
"just what you do in your field?"
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice,
I heard myself reply,
"I have a continuing program of research,
[what mother doesn't)
In the laboratory and in the field,
(normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family)
And already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities,
(any mother care to disagree?)
And I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it).
But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards re more of a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
Completed the form, stood up and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,
(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program,
Testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and ndispensable to mankind than
"just another Mom." Motherhood!
What a glorious career!
Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers
"Senior Research associates in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations"
And great grandmothers
"Executive Senior Research Associates"?
I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts
"Associate Research Assistants".

Please send this to another Mom,
Grandmother,
Aunt,

And other friends you know.
May your troubles be less,
Your blessings be more
And nothing but happiness come through your door,
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

My House

One step at a time. That's what my mother used to tell me as I was growing up, especially when I had some anxieties or challanges ahead of me. My anxieties these days, more often than not surround the health and well being of my family, and into that comes my house -- my home. Oh gosh, how it consumes my daily worries. The clutter is endless the pet hair is insurmountable, not to mention the laundry and paring of odd socks.

This is not the first and I have no doubt it will not be the last entry I write about my house, my home -- after all it is where I live, sleep, work and entertain. But folks, I believe or rather I hope that I have turned a corner and reached a new reality where I will be a little less cluttered and little less overwhelmed with the daily grind of it all.

Yes Sir, things are looking up. To begin, I no longer have to climb over clutter to get in and out of bed. That's got to be a good thing. I am also the proud owner of two new slip covered footstools for the living room that not only can I rest my tired feet on at the end of the day, but I can also stow away the kids toys.

IKEA, that is where I spent my weekend. On Saturday I was browsing their catalogue looking for solutions to hide and minimize our clutter and on Sunday I was at one of their stores selecting the perfect species of footstool. Here is a picture of our new footstools. I sure hope they (we got two of them) help with the clutter.

Eleven months and some

I never meant to leave my post, but I guess I just got swept along by the tide of life.

Some quick updates reference my last few posts -:

England was fantastic. Better than I could have planned and definitely something I would do again, in a heartbeat.

I passed the CBEST (first attempt too!)

I'm still cooking (a few nights a week) and have purchased two new cookbooks which I love and will blog about them on another date.

I officially graduated from CSULB. Finally!

Maggie has started swimming lessons and loves it. Loves it, loves it. Loves it.

Ryan started walking a few weeks ago now and fills my eyes with tears of joy on a daily basis. No longer a baby, not quite a boy.

And my current concerns are...
Researching and preparing Maggie for kindergaten, encouraging Ryan to talk and eat something other than apples, grapes, crackers and grahams and trying to figure out how to turn my house into a home -- free of clutter, dust bunnies and odd socks.