Monday, February 25, 2008

The Y's in My Life

Boys are definately different than girls. I have been learning that for almost 21 years now. Some days the point gets driven home harder than others.

Today on the way home from lacrosse practice the 15 year old was discussing a friend's girlfriend and how the boy is "whipped" by her. As he described her I amazed him with being able to fill in with things like "I'll bet she doesn't have many girlfriends," and "is she trying to limit his time with his guy friends?" I then informed him girls like this usually view other girls as a threat and it comes from being insecure. Warming to my subject, since my two boys seemed enthralled by my almost limitless font of knowledge, I said, "It isn't wise to have only guy friends - they just aren't the same as girlfriends."

The older one chimed in with a big grin, "I know! Guys like to just let 'em rip really loud. My coach can rip 'em so loud and so nasty, it clears the circle at practice!" (just in case you are wondering - they are describing flatulence) He then added, "I love being a guy!" To which the younger one in the back seat seconded with a "me too!"

Number one son's birthday is tomorrow. He will be 21. Being the usual boys that they are, the younger two have done nothing as far as purchasing a gift or making a card. I went upstairs and asked #2 what he thought of getting #1 twenty-one different treat items and filling a basket. He nodded then said, "how about beers?" I gave my meanest motherly frown to curtail such thinking. That's when #3 came out of his bedroom. I told him of my incredible birthday idea. He nodded and said, "So, should we get him 21 beers?"

I give up.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Yes We Can!

I did something last night. I went to the Barack Obama political rally in Houston. With over 16,000 of my friends.
Let me preface with this - I have been a card carrying Republican since I was 18. I am proudly conservative. But, in the last four years a bad taste has formed in my mouth. So, I have become a campaign groupie.
You see, the same friend that went with me last night, went with me to see John Edwards when he came to town about 6 months ago. We have decided that the older we get, we are tending to be a bit more liberal in our outlook. I liked John Edwards at his rally (once he stood up on his box and I could see his tiny cute self) but he lost me on the Universal Health Care and I knew I couldn't vote for him.
Barack Obama has caught my interest. I didn't think he had the charisma. He does. Trust me. I was in a completely packed venue last night that could not have been more excited and full of energy. But, do you know what was really exciting? We were a true cross section of America. There was every color, every age and from what I could tell by superficial standards, every economic level.
I like what the man has to say. He talks of changing Washington and I for one, think its needs some changing. The status quo is not working any longer.
Obama talks of health care, especially for all children. His plan to pay for it is better than any other I have heard. Let's face it, the Republican "No Child Left Behind" has left many battered and in the dust. My friend who was with me works in the public school system. She sees it everyday.
Obama talks of hope and I know I could use a little hope for my country right now.
Obama talks of pulling all troops out of Iraq by 2009. That was when the tears were stinging behind my eyes and I stood. And clapped. Hard. I am a mother. A mother of one who will be graduating from college in 15 months as a second lieutenent in the U.S. Army. When he was a toddler I held his hand to keep him safe. I provided shelter, proper nutrition, and a good education to bring him up the best way I knew how. Even though he will be 21 next week, I am still out there protecting him in the only way I know how. If a vote for Obama means he will not go to war in a country where we seem to have lost our way, then I have switched parties.
Maybe its time for a change.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

My Own Little "Crash"

I think people are racist without even realizing it. They think they aren't, but humans can't help themselves (see the movie "Crash" for confirmation of this). Like seeks like. That's just how our brains work so we cannot help a certain extent of our behavior.

But, sometimes it can be a little funny. Take my mother (please!)...

First, a little background. My parents are white and from the mid-west where at the time they were growing up, there was no other color to be found. Everyone was pale. My parents are 70 and 71 now, so have tended to grow up with certain ideas about other races but no real firsthand experience. I guess what I am asking is please forgive them. They know not what they do.

Here is our phone conversation the other day:

My Mom: "Your dad and I went to see two movies this week." (that is a big deal in itself)

Me: What movies?

My Mom: "Fools Gold" - which was cute and just o.k., and "Welcome Home, Roscoe Jenkins". That movie was so funny! We laughed and laughed! You know what? It made me wish I had a black friend."

Me: (in horror) "Mom! You can't say that! That's racist!"

My Mom: "No, it isn't! They are funny people!"

My parents are a lost cause. Don't even get me started on my dad and his rampages about the "homosexuals who are taking over the city council" in his town. The funny thing about that? My parents closest neighbors and friends are lesbians. They have these two women over for dinner all the time.

I suppose I am racist also, but I hope only in this - I do not like people who act like trash, but trash comes in all colors. I guess I am a full-fledged, card carrying, Britney Spears racist.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

The Last Word

If you could know how or when you were going to die, would you want to? My answer to that would be no, but I believe I know what would be my last word before I go to meet my Maker.

I had a car accident this week. It ended up being minor, but only by sheer luck. When one is traveling at the speed of 60 mph, it is extremely hard to come to a stop and things happen quickly. I was entering our beloved Beltway 8 here in Houston. While accelerating up to the rate (most people do 80 on the beltway - I usually do 65 - 70) I noticed the traffic in the right lane was going slower than 65 and prepared to go around them. Glancing in the side mirror - noted the lane was clear - when I glanced back in front they had all SLAMMED THEIR BRAKES ON! Knowing I could not stop in time, I turned to try and miss the truck in front of me, clipped his bumper and sent him flying across every lane of traffic. He came to a stop up against the center barrier, facing the opposite direction. The stability control in my Sequoia was amazing because I thought I was going to roll but didn't, instead I came to a stop at the next exit. Luckily, we were both okay.

I was talking on my phone when the accident happened. Not sure if the phone played into it - I was fully aware of what happened but this coworker/friend (he wishes to use an alias and thoughtfully provided one for me) "Dick Vixxxen", heard it all. When we spoke later in the day, Dick mentioned how he heard everything. I said, "you heard me screaming?" To which Dick replied, "yeah, the f word!"

Roll back the clock about 10 years: Minor accident - very good friend of mine in the car with me. After the police finished and we drove away, she informed me that when the girl hit me I yelled not only the F word but I decorated it with the word Mother in front.

Here is my concern. I don't really want either derivation to be my last word on earth. I need to start practicing some new ones. Maybe "BINGO!" or "DOMINO!" or what about "HALLELUJAH!" (that might prepare the Big Man Upstairs of my arrival whereupon I am sure to get my mouth washed out with soap!). Suggestions?

Sunday, February 03, 2008

You Are What You Eat

My latest fascination is with a show on the BBCA called "You Are What You Eat."

From here on out please read this post with a British accent.

The show is bloody brilliant! This dietician lady, Gillian, surprises fat people in the UK and then forces them to see what they eat in a week and then change their diets. (I am waiting for the sister show - "Orthodontics - Its not just for America!!")

One 18 year old girl only ate McDonald's hamburgers and chips (fries). Gillian made an entire sculpture of a person out of fatty, raw hamburger meat to shock this girl and her parents into changing all of their habits. The girl was 6 stones overweight (btw - a stone = 14 lbs.).

One father of three drank 12 pints of Guiness every day and ate ginormous portions of fatty, fried foods. After Gillian badgered him (and his enabling wife) he changed his wicked ways and dropped over 4 stones.

My favorite part of the show? When Gillian examines their "poo" (isn't that cute - instead of shit, poop, b.m., excrement or crap - she calls it poo! Don't you love the English and their cute words??) She makes the people poop into a pan and then covering their faces with masks, they take a look at it. She can diagnose if you are low in vitamin (and she says it vitamin with a short vowel sound on the i) B, zinc, fiber and so on. Looking at your own poo seems to be quite the wake up call.

Here at home, I am always trying to get my cheeseburger lovin' crew on board the eatin' healthy bandwagon. I seem to receive the most resistance in a surprising area. The husband. I can yak and yak about eating healthy and healthy choices while we are sitting in a restaurant, he will look right at me, nodding in agreement and then turn around and order the burger and fries.

I have threatened to send someone to look at his poo. Any volunteers?