Will Meme for Food

You may know that I kind of drew that weird, sudden, arbitrary line in the sand, and decided to no longer participate in any memes. I was pretty heavy into them, and I needed a clean break. So I quit.... cold turkey. And while I am generally very pleased with my decision, I am not unaware of the consequences. I have definitely isolated myself, somewhat. Also, now being left to my own devices for topic inspiration, I have found myself lacking at times. Seriously lacking.

And I am so seriously off-track right now. Enough about me.

So my old buddy, CaJoh, is celebrating his birthday today. And what I love about CaJoh, other than the fact that his nom de plume makes him sound like a cult leader, is the inspired simplicity of his blog.

What does any of this mean? And why should you care? Okay, well, here... let me spell it out:

CaJoh + Meme = Friday's Feast (yay!)

It's a simple one, really. You just have to talk about food (oh darn, right?). So I am going to dig deep within me for any vestigial memeing abilities, and see if I remember how to play.

Here's what I have to say about food:

1. You really can acquire a taste for those God-awful, healthy bran muffins (the hungrier and more desperate you are, the better).

2. If you are interested in obtaining the worst morning breath known to mankind, eat something with pesto for dinner the night before.

3. And now for my all-time favorite, which bears frequent repetition... Oatmeal is a totally acceptable and healthy dinner for your children (and disillusioned but hungry husband).

Happy Birthday, my friend, and Happy Weekend to the rest of you. Oh, and don't get used to all of this sociability... Back to our regularly scheduled programming posthaste!

Past Due

I've been more than a little fascinated lately by the life-cycle of the blog. Oh, you didn't know there's such a thing? Ah, but there is... and if you look closely, you, too, can easily identify the various stages, and their inherent characteristics. It doesn't take a scientist (which is good, because I ain't one) to figure it out. I won't bore you with the whole explanation, because it has been discussed by bloggers big and small around here.

Now, what is intriguing is how most blogs seem to stall at the cocoon spinning phase, and either just crawl around as a perpetual caterpillar, hungry for comments and approval, or feel the need to change, begin to spin its cozy transformational bed, but then kind of just fall off the tree, never to be heard from again. Rare is the blog that truly undergoes the somewhat painful metamorphosis and grows its gorgeous wings. And the simple reason why?

Fear.

Fear of "letting down readers".

Fear of sounding stupid.

Fear of being boring.

Fear of saying what you actually mean and being judged a bitch. Or uncool. Or unenlightened. Or ungreen. Or just plain mean. And who wants to be considered mean?

Well, that's all going to change. At least around here. I freely admit that I have been guilty of some serious self-censoring, and I don't like it. My one purpose for starting my blog was to, for once in my life, be truly authentic. To just be me. To say what I want to say. Embrace what I really feel. To write about what is inside of me, instead of continuing to portray a character that people around me expect and enjoy, at the expense of my soul.

And if people don't like it, and suddenly I am alone? Well, at least my one constant companion will be a lot easier to look in the eye.

So if you're up for saying what you mean, without fear of being thought of as mean, with no regard to obligation or perception, grab a button (stage left), and... well... say what you mean! Even if it's silly, boring, controversial, sad, happy, upsetting or confusing, if you feel it in your heart, it is worth being read, comments be damned!

Finally, I have to give a big shout out to my pal, Em, who heard my heart, helped me figure out what I was feeling, and then grabbed my hand and jumped off of this bridge with me. And while she was busy taking care of me, she found the time to design that cool button that says it all.

Teen Talk: The Reunion Show

Back by popular demand... The child formerly known as Sweet Mr. Beans, who now, clearly, is working hard to shake the 'sweet', and well on his way to embracing the whole teen attitude thing. I may have to just recast the role if he doesn't shape up. Or maybe I can just claim him to be his own evil twin.

The Sordid Truth

So here it is... the truth. I have been avoiding you. All of you. And I guess what I am hoping is you will maybe understand. If not, well then so be it. Please be patient and know that any irritation in my 'voice' is not, I repeat, not directed at you. But since it is illegal to throttle my children and abandon them on the street, I must take my frustrations out on the innocent... you.

Now, why have I been ignoring all the wonderful, optimistic, conscientious, inspiring tales of raising the next generation? Because suddenly I see the futility of it all. The societal judgment lingering in the air, for nothing, has gotten the better of me. The angst over breast or bottle, TV or no TV, green or... well, apparently there is no other choice besides green, or our kids, and the world as we know it, will all just instantly go to Hell.

I guess it seems harsh and, well, rude, to say it just doesn't matter if you do or do not grow your own squash to then boil (But not too long or all the nutrients will evaporate and your children will get rickets. Or is it scurvy?), and then mash, and then strain, and then mash again, and then feed to your children as they listen to Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

And do you know how I know it doesn't matter? Because I've done it. And you know what? My kids still talk back to me. They forget their homework at school. They complain about taking the trash out every single time, even though they have been taking out the trash twice weekly for the last 4 years. They fail tests. They go out with friends, in actual moving vehicles, and don't answer their cell phone for hours at a time. Yes, it happens.

The pressure on teens today is insane, and even in the most laid back of households, they feel it. Kids are depressed, kids feel lonely and isolated, and it has very, very little to do with whether or not they learned the alphabet in Chinese as a toddler. They react to things with little regard to the 'tools' they learned during circle time in kindergarten. Hormones are raging, chemicals in the brain are on the loose, disaster looms around every corner. Yes, it happens.

Or maybe at this point, you are thinking, "Well, it won't happen in my house." And maybe it won't. But it probably will. And, like me, you will be ill prepared for the constant frustration and emotional wrangling.

But, at least I know that when the day comes and my boys are standing in front of a judge, awaiting their sentence, they will remember to say "Yes Ma'am". And the nutrition they banked as infants will sustain them through years of prison food.

Teen Talk Sans Teens (Thank God)

Okay, forget the teens. I have no words of wisdom regarding those curious creatures, as mine are sending me perilously close to the edge. However, I thought I would share with you a nice little treat waiting for me when I came home from a stressful afternoon of having to interact with actual living, breathing human beings. Enjoy. Oh, and those disturbing black marks on the side of my washing machine are from this hose thing that keeps my mudroom from flooding.

I Pledge...

To wish my good pal, Em, the happiest birthday EVER!

She has a spirit that shines, a heart that radiates goodness, and the soul of the kind of mother I strive to be.

5 Things I Hate About Back To School Night

1. I am not the one who, by law, must go to school. I have already been through school. Just teach my kids already, and leave me out of it.

2. It goes against my policy of ignoring and avoiding everyone around me.

3. I have to get out of my pajamas. I tried staying in them one year, and the comfort wasn't worth the dirty/concerned looks I received.

4. It always interferes with some highly anticipated Season Premiere. ANTM, Biggest Loser, DWTS... you name it, I'll have to miss it. Curses!

5. The Teacher's Pets. Yes, they come in grown-up sizes, too. And they sit in the front row, nod their heads maniacally as the teacher speaks, and inevitably figure out a way to 'name drop' their own kids' names, LIKE ANYONE CARES. And of course, they force us to stay after the bell, asking ridiculous questions about the curriculum, LIKE ANYONE CARES.

I'm tempted to play hooky this year, but I want to go scour the walls for my kid's essay/poem/picture hanging there haphazardly. What can I say? I may have a bad attitude, but I still think my kids are the best, just like everyone else.

Oh, and in a show of solidarity with my pal Em, over at Life, Liberty and the Pursuit..., for each comment I receive, I will donate one can of food to the local food bank. Limit one comment per customer, s'il vous plaît.