A Musical Timeline

Today, for the first time ever, I listened to the purchase history on iTunes without skipping around. Embarking on a musical journey of my life. My first stop; my very first download from the week my son was born; "Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Certainly not the most Zen songs, but I love classic rock as did my OB. It was played in the OR during my emergency c-section (he was pulled out during the guitar solo). 

After TJ was born, I must have been nostalgic, a bit fragile and completely unaware about how much I missed my Dad, who had passed away several years prior.  My next selections were songs from my childhood and the memories flooded back.  My older sister, who was a very sensitive soul, would be terrified and burst into tears when my dad belted the chorus to Ray Charles', "Hit the Road Jack".  It is utterly amazing at how our bodies find a way to deal with things our consciences refuse to acknowledge.



We often talk about how much our lives have been altered since our kids were born. Mainly to indicate a reduction in the quality of our lives. Certainly, we are more tired, rushing around from point A to B; we no longer have Saturday and Sunday to lounge around leisurely and make up for our busy weeks. Vacations are no longer spent lounging around with umbrella drinks.  Oh I am pretty sure my quality of life (by strict definition)  has decreased substantially, but I find it hard to remember what I did with all my free time. Would I have walked all the streets of Paris without the baby carriage; would I have been to all the street vendors selling delicious crepes or had as much gelato in Italy after my toddler exercised his "outside voice" in the Sistine Chapel (a big non no). I am happy I had that wasted free time of my youth. Maybe I couldn't appreciate today with out having experienced it. But most importantly, I thank my kids.  Because of them I am forced to live moment by  moment, step by step, taking each word literally, appreciating the very simple things life has to offer; a true gift in a fast paced world.

A Bully by any other name would be as mean?

The expression "bully for you" was originally intended as praise.  Over time it became modified to convey sarcasm. The word bully in the 1500's was a term of endearment for one's sweetheart.

If it is possible for a good word to go bad, is it also possible that schools and the community at large are missing the potential in children who act out before our negative associations and declared truths about these children become their self-fulfilled prophecy as they become young adults. How can the school recognize kids?  How as a community do we work together to tap into their natural abilities? Has fear made society too reactive?

I feel the fear of being called a bully also prevents many people from owning up to bad behavior for fear of ostracism.

Laundry Day

I am not really sure where the term laundry day comes from.  Anyone out there really have one day per week they do laundry and if so are you a nudist? For me a more fitting designation would be, Laundry life. Just like no one ever informs you pregnancy is actually 10 months long and  the real miracle of childbirth is that anyone agrees to  have more than one child. Laundry day is a big fat lie.. A chore that never goes away. In fact, I dust around the folded clothes on the bench at the end of my bed rather than giving them the satisfaction of putting them away. What! Only to be worn again?  Not a chance.  Growing up in a family of 14, our family had a dirty little secret.  The sock box, a milk crate, that lived in our formal dining room after my mother, understandably so, met her match or last unmatched sock for the final time. To this day I wear unmatched socks with reckless abandon. Hopefully I won't be judged if I ever get in a car accident.