Call Me Maybe

Admittedly, their verses need some work, but overall, I'd have to say who wouldn't want to call these cuties!

The 2012 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition

One of the realities of raising boys in this sex-crazed-soft-porn-is-acceptable little world is the difficultly that it is to protect the boys of having such images burned into their little brains at an early age.

 I remember reading a story somewhere or hearing advice once about a mom who avoided the check out lines with magazines to protect her children from the sexualization displayed on the covers, opting to have a battle over candy bars now rather than facing other more subliminally ingrained battles later.

I remember there was a time I took that advice to heart, but somewhere along the way I forgot it.

Until today.

Today ISH and I were on our regular Monday grocery run and, after scoping outing which line was the shortest, I pulled into lane 8. And what should be there as a last ditch effort for an impulse buy but this season's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.

"Ugh!" I thought.  "Lord please protect my boys."

And as the words were going from my mind to the Father ISH says "Oh."

"Oh?" I replied

"Oh, that-" he said pointing to the SI cover.

"Oh :( " I thought

"-that is really inappropriate." ISH said with as much disdain as can come from a six-year-old lisp-y little mouth.

"Yes. It is." I said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Why do they want to put that on the cover?" ISH asked me.

"Because some men like her and some women want to be her and they think it's a good way to sell magazines."

"Well I don't."  (Lord keep this innocence about him)

"Me neither buddy." I said as I started to put my groceries on the checkout line belt feeling as though I had somehow avoided a storm.

"Now that-" he said with his eyes getting bigger, pointing the Food Network Magazine cover of a Bacon, Egg, and Cheese tart, "that's what they need to have on the cover.  That's what they need more of."

I giggled.

"Yes buddy, I agree."

 

Carrie Underwood's Amazing Leg Workout

My guess my friends is that it doesn't involve sitting on the couch searching through Pinterest.

 

A Night of Twisters

I'm an Okie. Born. Raised.

I remember times when Mom would give us a bag and tell us to go upstairs and grab what we wanted to keep.  Times of sitting in my parent's closet, listening to the weather broadcasting from my brother's Transformer radio.

Every time we emerged from the closet- house in tact. With tornados far from us.

And while, when I was younger, there were close calls like the May 3rd tornado, I have never been scared of tornados.

But then I had kids and a house. And somehow my outlook changed.

So today when the sky turned green and began to churn like an upset stomach- I knew that doesn't mean anything good was yet to come.

So as I went through the house taking pictures for photographic proof should we need to file insurance claims, LK packed the car with our dog, the kids, the hard drive and my dad's guitar.  And then we all went to safety.  But in the end, we piled it all back in the car and went back to our home. With tornados far from us.

And here I sit, in my undamaged house, viewing pictures of all that others lost.  Hearing the story of people who's bathtub safety plan didn't work. Hearing stories of the missing child in Four Corners.  Seeing houses leveled.  And I think how blessed I have been that in 30 years of living in Oklahoma,  I have never had to experience what people are experiencing tonight.

Tonight I am thankful for the shelter Oklahoma Christian provided for us- such a calming thought to know we had somewhere safe to go.  Tonight I am thankful for the excellent forewarning we had.  And I am thankful that everyone I know is safe.

My heart and my prayers are with those who cannot say the same.

On the Off Chance They Are Right

LK and I are spending time in B'ville at the Price Tower and surrounding area.  I'm such a fan of architecture and this has been one of those places I've always wanted to experience.  Given I grew up only a few hours from here it's hard to see why it's taken me this long to come.

(And if you're a Frank Llyod Wright hater, keep it to yourself. I know the design flaws of the lit-from-within-fireplace that has no way to change the light bulb, but that doesn't discount the harmony of his designs)

So here we are, kid-less and enjoying a vacation in our own state.  And if the world does in fact end today, I can't think of a better person to be with.

WHAT?

I was cleaning out the garage yesterday - moving things from place to place trying to clean up the aftermath of our half-year-back move.  While I'm working ISH looks at me from his spot on the floor where he had spent the last half-hour coloring.  "Wow Mommy.  You've moved a lot of stuff.  That's some hard work .... (wait for it)... for a woman."

WHAT?

So I'm not sure who of you out there taught him this or thinks it's funny. ... But I have my guesses .... and you're all in trouble!

College and Marriage

LK posting an interesting blog today that reflects on a study that notes how

highly-educated women (at least a 4-year degree) have a lower[ing] divorce rate and much lower incidence of children outside of marriage.

His post also reflects on how the study says that

Surprisingly the moderately-educated, or ‘Middle America’ (some post-secondary education but no degree) are trending worse than the poor [in their divorce rates].

LK postulates on why this could be and comments on how he's glad to be married to a degree-holding college girl (that would be me).  So here's my two cents on it.

To me it's like the conversation I had with a friend who lacked one class to graduate but instead of taking that one class (a gen ed class at that) he was applying for a job and leaving his studies, and he wanted my opinion on how his resume sounded.  I told him that personally, the fact that he lacked one class and could not list a degree on the resume even with all those hours under his belt would raise many a red flag as an employer about his ability to start and complete a task.

So, perhaps completing college is not only evident of someone who can handle delayed gratification, and not only understands that what she does today will have a lasting effect on what can then be accomplished tomorrow, and not only shows someone's ability to work with group projects (a necessity in college as well as marriage), but that it also shows a person who is able to not just start something but see it through to it's intended end.  Perhaps that is why women with a diploma on the wall fair better.

Perhaps.

Random Thought Thursday: The Santa Question

What time is it: 345P

Where am I: on campus waiting for Geo during piano practice

Listening to: Geo play the piano- auto correcting the line he keeps missing in Ode to Joy.

Last ate: Ramen- the dietary staple of my life as I work at New House which does not yet have a refrigerator.

Thoughts:
I was asked point blank yesterday about Santa by my youngest. Strangely we don't talk about Santa around here, or didn't really until Geo came home from first grade educating us all on the wonders that is.

But strangely, I found myself caught. I don't want to tell my child that there is a kind and loving man watching everything that goes on and if we are good this man will reward us... to only later tell him said man isn't really real but oh by the way let me tell you about God...

So I didn't want to say the truth but didn't want to burst his little happy Santa-loving heart.

Instead, I played the "what do you mean by is Santa real" question to see exactly what he was wanting to know. It boiled down to the question of can Santa go back up the chimney, and he seemed satisfied with the idea he came to that Santa must go out the door.

In my defense I never did say he's real- and in fact once said he wasn't- but then the talent of ISH's selective hearing tuned that out (he, of course, gets that talent from his father).

So I'm curious- do you do Santa? Do you tell your kids he's real? Do you go the route of a past friend of mine whose mom put footprints near the fireplace in the name of childhood magic? Do you squelch any Santa talk in the name of full on honesty? Or do you find yourself somewhere in between?

And in my own defense- at least Agatha the Gift Bearing Beagle did actually exist.

The Crazy Target Lady

I won't be getting up to fight off crowds at 3, 4, or 5am. I won't be camping out in front of stores to be the first through the doors. Why? Because unlike this women, I have not lost my mind.



Seriously lady, seek medical attention.

TSA a follow up thought

I know, I know, I just published something on the TSA all but moments ago.  But then Yahoo News had to go and post and article with the statement:

A year ago, [authorities] prevented a Christmas Day attempt to blow up a flight to Detroit with a bomb hidden in a passenger's clothes.

For the record- the authorities let the one-way-ticket-buying, pay-in-cash, on-a-watch-list, no-luggage-carrying, would-be bomber on board.  The would-be attack could have been prevented not by backscatters and shouldn't-you-buy-me-dinner-first pat downs but by the authorities actually paying attention to the flags raised by the systems already in place. 


And for the record it was not the authorities who stopped the would-be attack.

Abdulmutallab spent about 20 minutes in the bathroom as it approached Detroit, and then covered himself with a blanket after returning to his seat. Other passengers then heard popping noises, smelled a foul odor, and some saw Abdulmutallab’s trouser leg and the wall of the plane on fire. Fellow passenger Jasper Schuringa, a Dutch film director, jumped on Abdulmutallab and subdued him as flight attendants used fire extinguishers to douse the flames.^[118]

Stepping down off my soap box for a little while now,

Thoughts on the TSA

I'll admit, typing that header alone has me wonder if I'll now be flagged for searching when I travel next.  But I, like others, have concerns that I want to process through on the new TSA screenings. And honestly, it's one of those jumbled-thoughts-where-to-start sort of processing so stick with me here.

When LK first told me about these scanners and pat downs I told him the article was wrong.  I live in America, I told him- they won't let those things happen.  There's no way that's legal.  No way that is really happening. But it is.  And that alone has me a bit turned around.

I'm all for profiling those who need to be profiled.  When I worked inside the a brick and mortar agency, I once called the FBI because a family came in wanting to buy their daughter a one-way ticket from Memphis to Tehran on a specific day, specific flights, routing specifically through Amsterdam and wanted to pay cash.  When I gave them an extremely high rate for that day, they didn't want me to look into other options and they didn't want to give me any contact information.  To me, that was enough to raise a flag or two and I reported it.

And I'm all for airport security.  I enjoy traveling and would prefer to not die mid flight, so checking for weapons is okay by me.

What I'm not okay with, like many travelers (though surprisingly not as many as I thought), is the backscatter machines and the amazingly up-close and personal body checks.  So bare with me as I try to explain why.

Backscatter-
Where do these pictures go?  I googled TSA images and was able to find several pics online- though most of them appeared to be given to the media from the TSA.  What I found wasn't as graphic as this website suggested back in January that they would be, but on the two sites I found I was able to copy the picture like the January website said, Crtl + i and was able to, how shall I put this, see more of these people than I wanted to.  With today's information age, how can be sure these pictures will never get out?

Honestly, if you want to backscatter me, fine.  If you want to put my picture up online, fine (after all, it would provide interesting results the next time I google my name), but stick my child in one of those machines and have the possibility that his picture could be out on some website and watch this mama bear roar.

Plus, tell me how you can be so sure some closet pedophile isn't on the other side of that machine.  How can I be sure my child isn't the victim of someone's sick obsession simply because we wanted to board a plane.

Pat Downs-
For the last three years I've worked with women who are the survivors of abuse.  In our group we don't even hug the other person without asking first because you can never know what will set off the other. People of past abuse don't normally like close physical contact and unwanted physical contact can be a trigger for very bad things. Tell me how these experiences aren't asking for a survivor to go into a panic attack just because they wanted to travel.

Tell me how in the name of security things like this are necessary. Tell me how in the name of security I either get to give you an all but naked picture of myself or I have to let you grope me in order to go through security.  And that really?!?!?!?  once I've started the process my only 3rd option is the threat of a huge fine?  How does that work?!  Especially when the TSA website isn't even all updated on which airports have these systems and which don't on the off chance that I wanted to pick the option of driving further to fly from an airport that currently won't subject me to this mess.

So basically what I'm wondering is this- and, if someone can help me understand this I'd be more than happy to oblige with these security measures when needed- how is that in the last nine years security has gotten more and more out of hand and yet their measures have all been a matter a whiplash reaction to what they didn't catch the first go round.  As one report today noted:

Since 9/11, the only two terrorist threats to U.S. airlines were the shoe bomber (December 2001) and the underwear bomber (December 2009). Both of these individuals rang every bell there was to say, “Look, I am a terrorist!” Both of came from foreign airports and passed through security checks that should have stopped them long before they walked onto airliners.

Isn't it worth thinking about for just a minute- just to stop and think before sending out some new and invasive rule- that these people got through security and that

It should be noted that the new full-body scanners would not have singled out either of these two individuals, who checked in for international flights with one-way tickets purchased with cash and no luggage. Furthermore, it was the passengers and flight attendants who stopped these would-be bombers, not the Transportation Security Administration (TSA).

This people all but wore a shirt that said I'M A TERRORIST! And yet the TSA thinks all these new measures is what is going to keep us safer?  Ignoring all the one-way tickets, paid in cash, no luggage, flags and rely on groping them as the fail-proof measure?

This same report pointed out that:

Wouldn’t our skies be safer if we used the security procedures employed by some foreign countries and had layers of well-trained experts, who by asking simple questions can recognize those who appear suspicious? Israel's El Al Airlines, for example, has developed one of the most successful security programs in the world. Its security starts before anyone approaches the airport screening lines and incorporates layers of verification using well-trained security professionals.

And in Israel people don't get felt up just for wanting to get Grandma.

And another thought.  As of November 1 the TSA now requires me, as a travel agent, or you if you book a flight online for yourself, to enter in vast amounts of information.  What is the purpose of that whole mess if they're just going to backscatter me anyway?

To me, there are too many "unanswereds" out there for me to be okay with this.

That's why I agree with what National Opt Out Day is doing.  They're not asking for you to stage a sit in and protest the whole messy thing, or asking you to make a scene.  They're very clear that

There is no intent or desire to delay passengers en route to friends and family over Thanksgiving.  People also need to remember to stay within the confines of the law and the regulations of TSA when exercising their right to a pat down.

But that the reason they want everyone to opt out so that people will be able to

sit around the dinner table, eating turkey, [and talk] about their experience - what constitutes an unreasonable search, how forceful of a pat down will we allow on certain areas of our body, and that of our children, and how much privacy are we will to give up for flying?

But don't let it stop there.  The next step, as they say, is to tell the government about your experience.  On their website they list several places to submit your TSA experience.  But one that don't have listed is the US Travel Association.  Who wants to know people's experiences because they believe by hearing about them, they can address Congress and ask can we do better.

And as I end these can-this-really-be-processing-thoughts the travel agent in me feels the need to tell anyone who will be traveling on Wednesday, opting out or not, please please please arrive earlier than you normally would.  My guess is places with backscatters will be more of a zoo than normal holiday traffic would cause and places without them will still have TSA agents on pretty high alert.

This will, above all, not be a good day to tell them you have a live chicken in your bag- believe you me. But then, that would be another story for another day.

A Champion for Thanksgiving

As I walked into Lowes two weeks before Halloween and saw their Christmas tree display already up, I felt sorry for Thanksgiving.

As my blog reader went from how to decorate for Halloween to to how to decorate for Christmas, I felt sorry for Thanksgiving.

As I drove past a local university and saw the fence around the student housing decorated with "Merry Christmas," I felt sorry for Thanksgiving.

Since when did we go straight for give me candy to give me presents without stopping even for one small month to at least give thanks?

Memphis Women and Good Fried Chicken

I can remember one of the first times LK and I drove around Memphis.  It was late and after looking around I asked if we were on the wrong side of town.  "No," he answered.  "We're just in Memphis."

A few months later we would go on to buy our first house not even a mile from the gas station parking lot where I made my "bad neighborhood" inquiry.  And while the women from the suburbs whom I worked with, and the people from the delta town in Mississippi where we worship, and my parents (if they were to tell you the truth) all thought we were crazy for choosing to live in Memphis, it became home- our first home together.


In Memphis I found the open door to a job that I love and have been doing for the past (as of this week) 8 years (I suppose it's about time to start calling this a career).  In Memphis we had our first home, our first dog, our first over-night house guest, and our first child.  In Memphis we learned how to drive defensively and in Memphis we watched our first fight between two women who decided to duke it out on the highway- beating each other with their shoes! (Only in Memphis).


And since we were so far away from our biological families, in Memphis we learned how to make "family" out of the people around us (which would include people like the moms from the play group once Geo came along, the fellow grad students who would get together monthly and dream how we were all going to change the world, the previously mentioned suburbanites from my Wolf-Chase-Mall office building, and Randy- our perpetually drunk neighbor who tried to pay LK back for something or another with his food stamps).


And, of course, in Memphis we had great barbeque.


So when I stumbled upon the blog I Love Memphis it spoke deep to the place inside me that still, after after six years removed from it's city limits, wakes up some nights craving a barbeque sandwich with the slaw on top the way Tops Barbeque would make it.  And so I decided to follow her story.


On Thursday the author wrote a great summary of why she and her friends think Memphis is a great place.  For those of you who have never lived within the Memphis city limits, you'll just have to take her word for it.

Memphis is great because nothing here comes easily.

In this town, nothing is handed to you. Staying positive in Memphis requires overcoming a checkered history, chronically low civic self esteem, and the fact that other people constantly suggesting the easy way out.

I’ve thought about the easy ways out quite a bit. There seems to be a lot of conversation about them lately. Conversations that start with “have you ever thought about moving to (insert “cooler” city)”. Conversations about where I see myself in five years, doing the work that I do in a town like this. Questions about why I chose to come back here, buy a house and make a life.

Choosing Memphis isn’t always easy. I’ve joked about feeling like I’m married to the city, like I have to stay with it and make it work, no matter what.

But here’s the thing about Memphis: there’s loads of opportunity. In other cities, if you want to start something – a business, an event, a flashmob – chances are, someone’s already doing it. Here, there’s plenty of room to experiment, to try, and to learn.

Memphis is a city full of secrets. Some of the most amazing places and things here are hidden. You have to work to find them, but once you discover that amazing hidden patio or unguarded pool or bar in a warehouse neighborhood, there’s a thrilling sense of victory and discovery.

Living in Memphis can make you more open minded and  willing to try something new.

Living in Memphis makes you strong.

The beauty of Thy peace

I'm going to start this post with a disclaimer: Warning- it's very possible what follows could be seen as a rant. I don't intend it to be that way, but a warning none-the-less. There, if you get to the bottom of this post and think "Wow! She really ranted there didn't she!" I can point to this disclaimer and say, I told you it was coming.

The other day I came across a blog written by a stay at home mom. I'm going to straight up admit I have not read her blog so I can pass no judgement on it's content. What I do want to discuss though is her blog description:

Confessions on motherhood, from an overachieving, stress junkie stay-at-home mommy with a sweet tooth (and a Martha complex)

She even has a little badge that you can put on your blog if you'd like to identify with her Type A stress junkie approach to life.  And in trying to figure out why the whole thing hit me wrong, I put my finger on the idea so many (even myself at a time) buy into - that stress coupled with overachievement is a good thing- something "badge worthy."

I remember when I was younger and I had my daytimer full of meetings and events and I rushed from one place to the other telling others how little sleep I got the night before as some sort of indication of my value. It was as though I believed that the busier I was, the more important I was. As though to say if you're not stressed, you must not be doing it right. And I hung my hat on my achievements.

Fast forward to the 30-something me -- but please keep in mind that I do not sit here on some lotus pillow in an enlightened state of Zen adulthood. I still get stressed. Just ask LK and he'll tell you about the other night when I was rattling off in a 90 mile an hour fashion all the things I needed to have accomplished before we left town. There are times when stress just happens.  And my daytimer is still full, especially now that kid's activities are added into the mix of my own.

So what's the difference between the type-A stressed out mommy and the approach I'm suggesting?

The difference is balance.  It's peace. The difference is now I recognize the stress and work to remove it rather than glorify it.  The difference is now, while my daytimer is full, it is also balanced.

To me now, the words of "Dear Lord and Father of Mankind" perfectly sums it up:

Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
till all [my] strivings cease;
take from [my] soul the strain and stress,
and let [my] ordered [life] confess
the beauty of Thy peace.

Back in the jam-packed-daytimer-crazy-stress days I hated the word "still."  The song "Be still and know that I am God" made me shutter.  To me I had the whole lack-of-motion-mediation thought going on when I heard the word "still" and I hated it because, let's face it- I'm an active person.  Someone once asked how I fit everything into my day- my response was that I don't sit still very easily.  So the thought that still could be anything but annoying didn't register.

I still don't like the word all that much but I can understand it better.  The way I see it now is that "still" does not mean I can't move- because even when I'm sitting still some part of my body if still fidgeting.  But instead, I try view it as an acronym.

                                                          Show

                                                          That

                                                          I

                                                          Love the

                                                          Lord

Because, if I love Him, I'm going to trust him.  I'm going to let him order my life and my priorities. I'm going to see that hanging my hat on my achievements, that living life to the point of becoming a "stress junkie" doesn't show the world where my values lie.  But if I live a STILL life, then my actions will show what matters most.

So today I'm adding a badge to the side of my blog. A badge to remind me that it is the beauty of a God ordered life, a life that comes from living with a STILL state of mind.  The life that I want to strive for, not the life of a stressed-junkie, overachieving mommy. So if you identify as being someone that has this state of mind, or identify as someone who wants to have it, please feel free to take the badge and put it on your blog as a reminder to yourself that stress and overachievement is not the mark of a successful woman, but having a STILL life is.

One Drop

At the beginning of Wishing Well's documentary on the water crisis in Rwanda, the narrator says that people may view their lives as one drop- as something insignificant- but that like rain when one drop follows another amazing things can happen.

For some, April 30 was just one drop, one day in the line of many other insignificant days, but for Geo, this was the day that he discovered something larger than himself.

On April 30, Geo and ISH were able to attend a reception for His Excellency Paul Kigame and Mrs. Kigame on the campus of Oklahoma Christian University. And later that night they  attended a dinner where His Excellency talked about all the good that Rwanda has to offer and where Wishing Well was given a platform to talk about how clean water is necessary if Rwanda is going to continue to develop. Both boys came home from that evening in shock.

"Mommy, they don't have clean water in Rwandan!" they told me in disbelief.

"Well what should be do about that?" I asked.

"We should give money so they can dig wells." Geo told me

"And when I'm bigger, I'll go and help them dig." ISH added.

My heart melted. But that was only the beginning.

The next week Geo was chosen to be the "Star Student" for his class and was given the job of decorating a poster board with information about himself. One of the pictures he wanted to use was the picture of him with His Excellency and Mrs. Kagame.

"And I can have a bag to show my friends where to put their money, so they can help give water too." Geo said putting a few pennies in the bag so his friends could have an visual aid.

Floored!

My six year old was choosing to use his "about me" project as a platform to help others. (Please note it was also special hat day on the day he took the poster board to school. Hats from Venice are not part of his regular school attire.)

He was so excited when he came home from school on Monday telling me how kids said they were going to bring money. What was even more exciting was that they did!

Geo raised 6.31 (including the few pennies he'd thrown in to start the ball rolling) and then he and ISH gave an additional 2.65 of their own allowance matched "dollar-for-dollar" by me and LK to start early teaching them the value of matching gifts.

And today Geo made the trip to the OC Campus to donate his 11.61 to the Wishing Well's cause.

I'm so proud of Geo, and hope this is the beginning of him seeing creative ways to help others. One drop in the many of his life, I pray.

... though it should be said that the best part of the interaction with Ryan Groves, head of Wishing Well, was when after talking about the wells, looking at a few pictures of watching the video that won the Million Miles contest, Geo turned to Ryan and said "My car smells like sugar." He was right. It did.

Pulling the plug?

The other night LK mentioned that with all we're involved in we've been watching much less TV (this is not a bad thing) and that maybe it was time to pull the cable plug. Our at home lives use to be filled with CNN at lunch and CSI/Numbers/______ fill in the blank of some other random show in the evenings.  And now with guitar, silks, reading, games nights, etc, maybe we didn't need the expense of something we're really not using.

Strangely, my response was that we shouldn't.  That we might miss something.  That we might want to watch a movie and not be able to see what's on the 750+ channels available to us.

But then LK left town for 5 days and I turned the TV on for company.  The result?

My to-do list didn't turn into done and my concentration lacked it's focus as I found myself flipping through channels convinced there was something worth watching out there.

So, perhaps this is the beginning of us becoming an out-of-media's-touch home.  And strangely enough, I'm okay with that.