Forgiveness

Since Ryan has remarried and had the new baby, he and his wife have been on a moderately successful PR blitz to give their relationship some legitimacy. Their idea being that the past is the past and let's just forget about all that stuff and move on. To that end, Ryan inquired as to whether I might ever develop a friendly relationship with his wife. You see she is no longer the calculating hussy who set about to destroy my family...she is his wife and the mother of his child. Surely we have loads in common now. Think of all the fun we could have. We could sit around reminiscing about the good old days... "Remember when I was in labor and you came to the hospital and everybody but me knew that you were messing around with my husband?" "What about all the times you would call the house and hang up when I answered?" Then we could braid each other's hair and make brownies or something.

I didn't argue. I just calmly informed him that that was Not.Gonna.Happen. He didn't press the issue but I knew it was bound to surface again. When he came to pick the girls up this weekend he casually asked me if I had a bible concordance he could look at. I gave it to him. He sat down with it at the kitchen table and flipped pages for about 90 seconds. He looked up and said "Do you know where that verse comes from that talks about loving your enemy?" I walked to the table found the verse he was requesting and pointed to the entry. "Do you have a bible around here?" he asked? I could have pointed out that he knew perfectly well that there were at least six bibles on the three bookshelves surrounding him on each wall, but I could already tell that he was putting on a little show and I admit, I was curious as to how it would play out. I handed him the bible. He read the verse out loud...twice, interrupted only by his loud "Hmmms" and deep sighing. I ignored him and continued folding the laundry until he got tired of waiting for me and packed the kids up to leave.

Of course, I know Ryan well enough to ascertain that I was supposed to ask him why he was interested in that particular verse. This would be his opening to show me how hypocritical my feelings were toward his wife. People like this love nothing more than "catching" some professed Christian acting in a way that contradicts the bible and , honestly, any other time I would have taken the bait and verbally shredded his ass for even considering a debate with me on a biblical topic. I didn't argue with him this time because...he's right.

I have no snappy comeback. I am a professed Christian. I am a Baptist Sunday School teacher. I have read the bible backwards and forwards. I know what it says. But I still cannot feel anything but contempt for this woman. I know I am supposed to forgive her but I don't know how. And I am completely ashamed that I have given her so much control over my emotions. The crazy part is that I have completely forgiven Ryan. The strongest emotion that man elicits in me now is "bemusement". So doesn't it stand to reason that if I could forgive the man who was supposed to love us that I could forgive this stranger who never swore any allegiance to my family in the first place?

I try desperately to live my life with a little dignity and class. It's important to me to try to rise above my baser instincts. But in four years I have not even made eye contact with her because I am convinced that if she speaks directly to me, all the rage I have swallowed for so long will culminate in my beating the holy hell out of her in a scene which would make the worst episode of "Jerry Springer" look like "Masterpiece Theater". Surely I am better than that.

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting

I’m through with doubt
There’s nothing left for me to figure out
I’ve paid a price
And I’ll keep paying

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
‘Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is you think I should

I know you said
Can’t you just get over it
It turned my whole world around
And I kind of like it

I made my bed and I sleep like a baby
With no regrets and I don’t mind sayin’
It’s a sad sad story when a mother will teach her
Daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger...

Women In Art

In the beginning...

The first blog I ever read was Eschaton. It was around 2002 and between Ryan's very conservative family and our circle of friends at church, I couldn't find very many people who agreed with my political ideology. While I have always had a fairly argumentative nature, the post Clinton world had taught me to keep my mouth shut. At that point, I was still a stay-at-home mom so I was isolated in a lot of ways until I discovered that the internet could be used for more than shopping. I stumbled into the blogosphere and happily took up residence. I didn't and don't always agree with their views and I like being detached enough to never contemplate political blogging myself. I abandon them on weekends, holidays and vacations but Monday morning generally finds me perusing my small cadre of blogs before I "really" start working.

This is my favorite blog post...ever. It never fails to make me laugh.

6 to 8 black men

Disregard the video and just listen...worth the six minutes...I promise.

Book Review

I recently finished The Piano Tuner a novel by Daniel Mason. The idea of the book is much more intriguing than the actual work. The basic story is that Edgar Drake, the piano tuner, is commissioned in 1886 by the British military to travel to Burma to tune the piano of an eccentric doctor/captain/diplomat stationed there. The book is very descriptive and the subtlety of the writing is quite beautiful. My only real complaint is that the book doesn't seem fully realized. At the point that Mason ends the novel, I was just beginning to get interested. I was frustrated by the ending which seemed, to me, to be the easy way out for the author. Not unlike the hastily written last paragraph of my senior term paper. Obviously, I understand. I just expect published authors to do better. I will admit that the book has made me contemplate one question at length...Can an extraordinary experience that occurs in your super-ordinary life change you to the degree that you are unrecognizable to yourself or others?

(On a completely immature note...when I was searching Amazon.com for the picture above, I just typed "piano tuner" into the search bar. This was the second listing in the results. I had no idea such a genre even existed. I am so naive. If I had known, Christmas shopping would have been much easier last year.)

Killing time...

In an ongoing effort to accomplish nothing at work...ever, I stumbled across this website today. This diagram brought me so much joy...


So if you get a chance and you also intend to waste an entire afternoon, go here and just savor the deliciousness.

Reason

Stephen Breyer is on his way to becoming my favorite Supreme Court Justice.

"I began to see that the true division of importance in the world is not between different countries. The important division is between those who are committed to reason, to working out things, to understanding other people, to peaceful resolution of their differences ... and those who don't think that."

Ummm.Hell yeah!

Plenty

So this post has got me thinking about money...or the lack of it. I feel incredibly blessed because I usually have a dollar or two left at the end of the pay period. But savings are nonexistent and that bothers me. There is nothing for a rainy day and, really, what are the chances it's not going to rain? I feel that I suffer from lowered expectations in that my financial situation today, while still pitiful, is so much better than it was a few years ago.

When Ryan left he also quit his job so,for a while, there was absolutely no money coming in to my household at all. Lots of people encouraged me to sell the house and move in with my mom and dad. I just couldn't do it. I felt like a bomb had gone off in my life and, for whatever reason, I clung to that house like it was a life raft. I was desperately and unsuccessfully trying to find a job so many of my family members tried to give me financial help. All that "help" went to cover the mortgage which still left me with that pesky problem of feeding my children which ultimately led to the most humiliating experience of my entire life. I applied for Food Stamps. Now as an admitted bleeding-heart liberal, I have always thought that financial assistance from the government was a necessary and effective program...for other people. And so I sat in a plastic chair in that shabby government office filled with the most hopeless people a society can produce and I shamefully counted myself among them.
The food stamps lasted for six months and ended at almost the exact time that I got hired full-time at my current job. I never received any other assistance and I had my Scarlett O'Hara moment wherein I proclaimed that "As God as my witness..." I would never allow my family to be in that situation again.

That degrading memory haunts me but it also serves as a necessary touchstone. I'm not able to give my kids every material thing they desire. They attend school with kids who live in homes that make ours look like the servant's quarters. But the bills are paid, usually on time. The cupboard is full of food. The mortgage is current. Everybody got new backpacks, lunch boxes and school clothes. And when it starts raining, we'll just have to borrow a friggin umbrella :)

Vacation

I'm not sure you can characterize something as a "getaway" if you have to take two cars, 15 bags of groceries, 5 little girls and two teenage boys. Nevertheless, we did just that. With much fanfare, I loaded all five girls into the mini van and began, what would become, a vain pursuit of Kevin, who was supposed to be just ahead of me in the car with Dylan and Dylan's friend Connor. Our destination...Gatlinburg.

(I should also note that Emily was not able to go with us because she was in Florida visiting a friend for a few weeks. I really missed her because, not only is she a big help and pretty good company for me, the kids will actually do what she tells them. Even my own kids. Seriously.)

After confirming the directions, I quickly abandoned my attempt to keep up on the interstate. Kevin assured me he never got above 80mph and I assured him that he was lying. Anyway, we settled on the fact that perhaps my speedometer was broken. The drive went great and, miraculously, we made it all the way to Pigeon Forge without a bathroom stop.


We arrived at the cabin and had one of the best moments of the whole vacation watching the kids reaction to the place. I realized it's probably not a good idea to stay somewhere on vacation that is nicer than the home that you live in for the rest of the year. I came to this realization watching my kids run from one room to another screaming "It has a hot tub!"... "jacuzzi!"..."pool table!" "stairs!" They acted like those disadvantaged kids that get sent on vacation by charitable organizations. ...and I guess, in a sense, they were :)

The place was just fantastic. The fact that we had to drive up the side of a friggin mountain to get to it really didn't diminish our love for the location and amenities.

The girls could not get enough of the hot tub. Do not be fooled. The same kids that will do anything to get out of taking a bath will drive you insane asking to get into a hot tub.

Monday, Kevin spent about 672 dollars for us all to play putt-putt. We all had a great time. And, really, it was money well spent because A) Kevin and I both won a free game that we will never get to redeem but damn it, we won something and B) I got a great picture that Kevin won't let me blog but will make it onto a coffee mug at some time in the future.

Tuesday, we visited Dollywood which was the only disappointment of the whole trip. It rained...a lot. When the weather was cooperating, Kevin and the boys rode the big roller coasters and I ventured to the other side of the park in search of something a little tamer for the girls to do. The only downside to this plan is that there were three girls too short to ride unaccompanied and just one of me. I had been hyping an amusement park trip to my girls for over 6 months so I was a little bummed when we sloshed out that afternoon having spent 150 bucks to ride 5 rides.

The kids got over their disappointment in a hurry when we spent that evening at the Dixie Stampede. Admittedly, it's an overpriced, cheesey production. But how many times can you actually say that you watched pig races, mini buffaloes, and dance numbers featuring costumes too tacky for Dolly Parton herself while simultaneously tearing apart a rotisserie chicken with your bare hands? The kids are still talking about it.

Last year, the girls and I went on vacation with my parents. And while I was never alone, I was awfully lonely. It's no fun being the single parent in a world that seems completely populated by happy, intact families. So this vacation was a lot more work, more kids, more money and more drama. But at the end of every day there was this...


And I can honestly say that, for my little portion of the family, it was one of our best times ever because when mama is happy...well, you know...

Grandpa ...

Remember last week? George Bush had to be sedated for a colonoscopy so Dick Cheney was the "acting" president for two hours. (My question - when is he not the "acting president?) Fortunately, during that two hours he didn't authorize an attack on Canada (they're sneaky and their bacon is just ham and they will not admit it) or nullify our constitution...wait...oh nevermind. He spent those sweet 120 minutes of unchecked power ...writing a letter to his grandchildren. No. Seriously. And this letter just happened to be given to the conservative "Weekly Standard" who published the text as follows:

"Dear Kate, Elizabeth, Grace, Philip, Richard and Sam," he began. "As I write this, our nation is engaged in a war with terrorists of global reach. My principal focus as Vice President has been to help protect the American people and our way of life. The vigilance, diligence and unwavering commitment of those who protect our Nation has kept us safe from terrorist attacks of the kind we faced on September 11, 2001. We owe a special debt of gratitude to the members of our armed forces, intelligence agencies, law enforcement agencies and others who serve and sacrifice to keep us safe and free."

"As you grow, you will come to understand the sacrifices that each generation makes to preserve freedom and democracy for future generations, and you will assume the important responsibilities of citizens in our society. I ask of you as my grandchildren what I asked of my daughters, that you always strive in your lives to do what is right."

"May God bless and protect you.
Richard B. Cheney
Acting President of the United States
(Grandpa Cheney)"

Heartwarming, ain't it? Makes me miss my own grandpa. I have so many fond memories of curling up in his lap and begging him just one more time to tell me the story about our imminent deaths as a result of the Islamofacist terrorists.

Book Review

In my mind I carry a list. It contains all the books I am "supposed" to read. Their titles come from lots of places. Mostly friends recommendations, yearly lists of the "100 Greatest Novels of All Time", and most regrettably, I get a lot of ideas from those goobers who frequent "Listmania" on Amazon.com. I read quite a bit but the list never seems to get smaller. A small portion is made up of books I just don't want to read but feel, somehow, that I really should. I dread them. These are the books you think you might just save to read in case you ever have to serve a lengthy prison sentence.

So,bearing all this in mind, I embarked upon The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. This book has been on my list for a long time. I was an English major in college and I was particularly obsessed with southern literature which sounds like a genre dedicated to stories about pick-up trucks and old dogs but actually encompasses some of the finest literary voices of the 20th century. Think O'Conner, Welty, Faulkner, Conroy.

I just had a bad attitude about this book. I'm not sure why except...well...look at this picture.

She doesn't strike you as a real fun gal, does she? Nevertheless, I began. I was unimpressed. I kept thinking "Could one of the most lauded novels ever really center on two deaf mutes in a friggin Mill town?"

And then it happened. As only the best writing can, it overwhelmed me. I began to wonder why the characters acted a certain way or why McCullers chose to maneuver them in such a manner. She doesn't write any backstory for her characters. They just begin. Lots of writers do this but very few create characters that make you want to know their genesis. I found myself wondering what motivated this odd cast that she had assembled. She never tells the reader. There is no closure. And therein lies the greatness.

Reading this book, for me, was like exercising a muscle that you had not used for years. Certainly, I have never stopped reading, but I think that since the girls were born, I had abandoned the idea of analyzing the books I read. It wasn't a conscious decision. It just wasn't a priority between colic, diapers and happy meals. I think, for a while, I lost me. Reading this book helped me remember who I am.