Week 2 - More Eh on the Vegetarian Diet

Having trouble uploading the video but week 2 offers similar results to week 1. In a nut shell (or less actually) one pound lighter. I guess this is going to be a lesson in patience, which is not one of my virtues. I hope you all will "hang in there" for a year because at this rate, that is how long getting to my goal is going to take.

Are They My Kids Or Are They My Grown-Ups?

I am in a state of mom madness. I have a daughter, 10 (in training to turn into a teenager and drag me through hell - for the the fourth time!), twin 19-year-olds and one 20-year-old. All are currently living at home. Amanda, my oldest, is here for one semester to take a class that is not currently offered at SJSU and Christine and Jennifer are in their second year of community college before transferring to university. And then there is Grace, going in to 5th grade. So basically - full house.

So here is my mom mantra: "I am not your friend, I am your mother".

Let me back up a bit and give you an historical perspective on that statement as it pertains to how I was perceived in my home. To say I was not popular with my girls (or some of their friends) would be a gross understatement. First of all, I believed it, I meant it and they knew it. Secondly, in holding my ground, I guaranteed myself at least 4 years of being absolutely hated and despised. In case you're wondering, this was not fun. (Did you hear that girls? I did not have fun "ruining" your lives!) And I think it could probably be scientifically proven that it is during this 4 year hate period that women of similar mindset start to look like old hags with gray hair, wrinkles, and saggy butts. Its exactly the same thing that happens between the first and last day of any U.S. president. Look at the pictures. Same 4 years.

On the other hand, women who come out of this period looking great have either had surgery or, have shitty kids. Because they chose to be "a friend". Obviously I am over-generalizing here. There are exceptions but needless to say, my daughters would have rather had a "friend". And had I caved, I would look fabulous. Have you ever noticed how Lindsay Lohen, Brittany Spears, Paris Hilton, and the Kardashian girls all claimed, as teens: "my mom is my best friend".? Sexy, youthful moms. I rest my case.

Amanda used to routinely tell me with snarl and contempt in her voice (as well as in every fiber in her body), that her other friends had "nice" moms who they could tell "anything" to. To that, all I could say was that my girls didn't need to tell me "anything". Because I already knew "everything". And I wasn't about to be "understanding" about any of it. I wasn't going to talk it over, over a latte at Starbucks. I was not going to make it easy for them to do what I knew they shouldn't be doing - even though I knew everyone else was doing it. Even if I had done it at their age. Especially if I had done it at their age. So if they were going to defy me anyway, they were going to have to work hard at doing it because it was going to require stealth planning and strategy to get away with it. Sometimes they did. But often, they didn't. Hence, hate.

Okay, so we really are beyond that now. They've grown up and become adults. Well, semi-adults. At least in my mind. Which is where mom madness comes in. While I am in full mom mode for my 10 year old, I am supposed to be - what? - to my older girls? They are legal adults now, but still unexperienced young people. They want to make their own lives. While still living at home. Uh - I think not.

I mean, I still have rules, right? And when they are living under my roof, they abide, right? Or they can get their own place, right? Right??

Except, it looks an awful like when they were in high school. And as much as I feel I am entitled to set the rules in my own home, I kind of feel like maybe their freedoms should extend a little beyond a later curfew. But I don't seem to be able to let go of them as my children and embrace them as adults. At least not while they still leave messes all over the house.

The truth is I do not know how to be a mom to semi-adult. I don't know how to be okay with choices they may make that I do not like. I do not know where to draw the line. I do not know how to try to "discipline" them for breaking the rules - without feeling like an ass. And I think there hasn't been enough time between the time they hated me and now for them to warm to being friends. And frankly, I'm not sure I can be their friend until they are 52 with college aged daughters of their own.

So I'm left out here in "mom limbo". But I've got to figure it out or I am going to look like absolute hell by the time they graduate college.

Work Hard, Play Later

Christine answers, perhaps not so candidly. But she definitely got the message.

Monday Sermon

Grace , through the kindness of good friends, received tickets to the Jonas Brother's concert at the Staples Center on Friday night. A HUGE fan, she had the time of her life and was as excited as I have ever seen her. She came home and breathlessly chattered on about her experience until she was hoarse. But before she went to bed, she told of another "new experience" she witnessed that night. The sight of a homeless man, laying inside a cardboard box with his back to the opening. And she could see that he was crying because his shoulders and back were shaking rhythmically, in the manner they do when you are wracked with sobs. It was him she remembered when she got into bed.

Say what you want about Michael Jackson. He was very weird at best, but he wrote, without a doubt, the most amazing anthem for social responsibility ever. And if every single person took these words seriously, we wouldn't be fighting about health care reform, joblessness and homelessness. Its called "Man in the Mirror" and in the unlikely event that you haven't heard it, or couldn't make out all the words, here are the lyrics:

I'm gonna make a change, for once in my life

Its gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference, gonna make it right

As I turn up the collar on my favorite winter coat

the wind is blowin' my mind

I see the kids in the street with not enough to eat

Who am I to be blind pretending not to see their need?

A summer's disregard, a broken bottle top, and one man's soul

They follow each other on the wind you know, cause they got nowhere to go

That's why I want you to know

I'm starting with the man in the mirror, I'm asking him to change his ways

And no message could have been any clearer

If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change.

I've been a victim of a selfish kind of love, its time that I realize

That there are some with no home, not a nickel to loan

Could it be, really me, pretending that they're not alone?

A willow deeply scarred, somebody's broken heart, and a washed out dream

They follow the pattern of the wind you see, cause they got no place to be

That's why I'm starting with me.

You gotta get it right while you got the time

Cause when you close your heart you close your mind.

I don't know what I can add to that. Except that I have a heightened awareness of need these days. And even in unemployment, I'm one of the lucky ones. I know there are people from all walks of life in desperate situations right now - you do not have to look far to find them. There has never been a time when the phrase "There but for the grace of God, go I" has been so close to home.

So, when you are at the grocery store and they ask if you want to donate one dollar to the cause - do it. If you get a legitimate solicitation over the phone for the needy - give to it. If you are asked to donate something - find it and donate it. A little bit here and there by everyone can change everything. Sponsor a child, pay someone's rent, stock the food banks, give blood, give time. Tithe. And then, tell no one. The treasure in heaven you store will be worth it.

Finally, before you log off your computer, go to Kiva.org and check out what a loan of $25.00 or more can do for people around the world.

And all the people said - amen.

What a Difference a Party Makes

Yesterday started tough. I was out of sorts getting out of bed. I felt all day like I had to pull myself back from the edge. You know those days. When people irritate you for nothing more than breathing.

These kind of days are particularly difficult days for my family because the minimal measure of patience I usually operate with is gone entirely. Everyone tries to stay out of my way - but unless they gather up their things and move out altogether, its useless.

So sorry, family. Again.

Further contributing to my irritation was the fact that we had an obligation last night. Now it is important to note that the day before, it was a party we were going to, but yesterday it turned into an obligation. And I was wishing Rica was turning 50 next year when I would certainly feel better. And besides, Rica doesn't look anything like 50 so the fact that someone was making it a big deal was frankly a little insulting to the rest of us half-centurions who, when revealing our age, don't even get the courtesy of a feigned look of surprise. So Happy damned Birthday Rica.

But happily, we went and the obligation turned back into a party.

We live in the most beautiful place in the world, Thousand Oaks/Westlake Village. We have rolling green hills and blue skies, the Santa Monica mountains, protected space, oak trees and a beautifully planned, pristine community. No window bars. No graffiti. Google us if you don't believe. And there is a neighborhood in Westlake that is on the lake and all the houses have their own boats to sail around in and it-is-sublime! So we were off to a good start when the party turned out to be there.

It was a smallish dinner party held on the deck of her ex-mother-in-law's house (yes, that's how much everyone loves Rica), right on the lake with candles and twinkle lights and nice people. We watched the sun set and it made gorgeous gold and pink colors on the water. Bob and I wound up sitting at a table with friends we have known for many years, along with a couple of new people who we really liked. We were pretty loud. Such is our nature. The primary conversation was over whether or not to legalize marijuana. Mostly - and I was surprised - the occupants at our table were for it. For the record, I am not. More interesting to me was the fact that I was the only democrat at the table (except for maybe the new people) so go figure. It just goes to show, conservatives can, under the right "influences", be the life of the party. (I'm going to catch hell for that remark - so please, all my republican friends, its just a joke.) But with that said it spawned a lively debate which was, in spite of the controversial nature of the subject matter, fun.

Also - and this was great - an old friend of ours told me, just as a matter of fact (and without any kind of flirtatious or inappropriate inference), that he thought I was beautiful. And I am going to presume that he was not talking about my mind. Not that a beautiful mind isn't something to want, but who wants to hear about it at 52?

But mostly, I just was aware. Aware of how blessed I am. Friends, my darling husband, celebration, good food, good conversation, good music, beautiful surroundings. The birthday girl was an inspiration as well. She accepted tribute after tribute with grace, laughing with ease and, with extreme good nature, laughed harder than anyone else when it was discovered (under scrutiny) that one of the photos of her that made up a displayed collage of her life, revealed a bit more of her body that one would normally present in public. I would have died. Rica, charming and lovely, thought it was hilarious. So it was. A lesson in rolling with the punches. And so, I ended my day in a much better place.

Oh those crazy 50-year-olds!!!

Week One - Eh

I CANNOT CONTROL WHAT FRAME THE VIDEO FREEZES ON. (I know you are laughing, Ted!) I do not walk the earth looking like this.

The good thing about video blogging your diet is that you can't lie.

Forward

So I did hear a final word from the company that was trying to hire me. They are a small company and they cannot offer what I was asking.

In a way, there is relief in this word. The job was really far away. The hours would have been tough. The benefit package was a big obstacle. SO that leaves me back in limbo. Ah well.

I was just on mediabistro.com and watched a little short called "Lemonade" about people who have been let go from the world of advertising and done something completely different with their lives. I think this is finally sinking in for me. So - all those in favor of me making six figures writing this blog all day say "aye".

You laugh but people do. Not me necessarily, but people. And there may be a few dollars in it down the road if this continues to grow.

Or there may be a book in me. My friend Cindy says my life is like a John Irving novel. Anyone still like John Irving?

Here's another idea: I finally get the real estate license my husband has been nagging me to get and go into business with him. The market is opening up slightly to investors. His business seems to be picking up a little bit. Plus, after 18 years of marriage, I know how to get along with him - or not - based on what the situation calls for. The only risk factor in such an endeavor might be homicide. But there is probably insurance for that.

Or I might wait for the right thing to come my way - whatever that is.

The fact is, nay say all you like but God has been providing for us. Income has been coming from here and there, keeping us in a good place. I do not presume this will last beyond today, but it has given me a respite and I am content in it. And I would LOVE to do something new. And I think my purse is really getting cleaned out so that when I jump in the deep end (and I feel it coming), it won't weigh me down. In fact my purse might just offer some buoyancy.

And maybe I will become a motivational speaker. I would love that. I've mentioned this before. Motivational speaker may sound crazy but in this little "Lemonade" film I just mentioned, one guy got laid off from his job in advertising and pursued a new direction by becoming a woman. What I am suggesting is not nearly as complicated.