On Inheriting Silliness and Certain Instant Death

     Weird is a word often used by my children and husband to describe me. I'm OK with that for more than one reason. I can think of many other things that are true that I'd rather not be called out for. I'm sure, too, that others outside of my family wouldn't hesitate to admit I'm weird. I embrace the moniker and wear it as a badge of honor. Just this week my youngest commented on how weird I am. That touched off a conversation about my closest friends and how they too are weird like myself. I love it!

Of one thing I am very certain.... I am definitely a solid representative of my Mother's bloodline. I've thought for the majority of my adult life that I inherited my silliness straight from my grandfather. I have such fond memories of my grandfather talking the craziness that I often hear coming out of my own mouth. My grandfather's easy chair to my young eyes was the pseudo command post of my grandparent's home.  My grandfather sat there and talked craziness and acted like he was in charge. For the most part I saw him as a big kid in a grandpa suit. The truth I can see now is that my grandmother was both the brains and the muscle of the operation. As a child I didn't care so much who was actually in charge. I just appreciated the silly times. I can still see and hear in my mind the trip my grandfather would make multiple times per day from his easy chair to the bathroom. My grandparent's house was really small. It only took about 20 steps to get from his chair to the bathroom. He was a WWII veteran. He always rose from his chair pretty slowly. After he got done sputtering and groaning to get up he would generally launch into some kind of crazy talk. The one I remember the most is a line of a song he would sing. He would belt out "I was riding in the snow, in my Chevrolet" to the tune of Jingle Bells. That's the only line he'd ever sing. He also had a song about John Brown's mule, complete with authentic donkey noises.  I don't remember the words, only the donkey noises. Ask me sometime and I'll demonstrate :)

For the last years of her life my grandfather's mother lived with my grandparents. We called her Mama Hodgins. We spent lots of time with her. I have very, very fond memories of her. She was the sweetest little old lady. I don't feel like I ever knew her really well as she died when I was 12. I do, however, remember specific things about her that make me think perhaps she was silly too. I think immediately about a picture of her with my brother and I. We were really little and apparently had gotten loose in the house  "naked as jaybirds". Somehow we ended up standing in her lap. In the picture she has her hands strategically placed across us so that our "specials" were covered. I haven't seen that picture in a long time but I'm pretty sure she's giggling in the picture. I remember too that she had lots of odd notions. That is part of what my family sees that has brought them to label me as weird. One famous notion she had was that peppermint will cure you of most anything. Because my grandparent's house was small and there were often lots of us in it, sometimes one or more of us would have to sleep with Mama Hodgins. I remember lots of nights being awakened by her and made to suck on a peppermint. We weren't allowed to bite it or chew it. We had to stay awake until it had completely melted. I think I recall her doing that if we would cough in the night. I had terrible allergies and coughed a lot at night. I always thought that was the weirdest thing for a person to do to a kid. The only good part about it was that we got to eat candy in the night. I just wished she didn't have to wake me up. There were some nights that I asked for a peppermint as we were going to bed so I wouldn't cough later. She often fell for it.

I have so many stories of odd family members. The one story that that I believe is the capstone of our family weirdness concerns a family myth perpetuated by Mama Hodgins. I don't know anything about the origin of the story. I just know that it was taken very seriously in my family.  According to Mama Hodgins, a person should NEVER, EVER have fish (of any kind) and ice cream at the same meal. I have fuzzy memories of that  being extended to not having fish and ice cream in the same day.  I have shared that story with lots of people in my lifetime. They all laugh. The truth is... I can't bring myself to try it. According to the family myth, a person who eats fish and ice cream in the same meal dies. That may very well be why I don't eat much fish. If I've gotta choose one or the other, I choose ice cream. Strangely enough, every time I have fish, I crave ice cream. That's likely because it's strictly forbidden.

So, I come by my weirdness honestly. It's a large part of what makes me myself.

On Growing Responsible Adults

How to grow a responsible adult:

1) Obtain child
2) Teach him/her stuff
3) Provide opportunity
4) BE DISAPPOINTED!!!
5) Realize you've done what you can
6) Patiently endure the years
7) Hope for the best

It's very hard sometimes not to feel like a complete and utter failure as a parent. I spent some time today considering my expectations for my children and do not believe that I am an unrealistic parent.

I want the very best for my children. I tell them this all the time. Hubby Guy and I are forever trying to teach them how to be successful. BUT... It seems all that good wisdom stuff goes in one ear and out the other.

When I was 10 and 14 I remember feeling like I knew everything. I also know that I got in trouble for decisions I made that made no sense to my parents. With all these many years of perspective I'm able to see that more times than they would like to hear about I was right and they were wrong. I did plenty of stuff that made my parents scratch their heads and I turned out great. Even knowing that, I have a hard time extending grace to my own children when they stand by their decisions.

My inner control freak has a terrible time with the notion that things I tell my children go seemingly ignored. I consider myself a pretty patient individual. This parenting stuff, however, is brutal. I want to be able to tell right now that they are gonna turn out ok. I want to know right now that they'll be able to hold a job. I want to know that they will have some integrity and strength of character. I want to know that they will live according to the Bible. And.... I can't know any of those things right now. And they show few signs of any of that coming to fruition.

In the meantime, we continue to scroll messages through their stubborn little ears. Hopefully, some of the messages are imprinting on their memory banks. Also, I'm trying to learn to dial back freakazoid uber mom who preaches first and asks questions second. I'm trying to remember that they are people too. They have brains of their own and they should be allowed enough rope to work with. And sometimes... I'm very chincy with the rope.

On Topical Solutions

Pinterest is SO BORING!!! Merciful heavens..... I really have no use for it. However, I've determined that I could lose myself for a wholly unnatural amount of time in the Blogiverse. I find the ramblings of others endlessly entertaining.

I'm troubled, though. I often scratch my head in wonderment about what spurs people to talk about some of the stuff I've read on various blogs. I guess I just don't consider myself witty enough to share with any success about the mundane stuff that I do from day to day.

So... I'm doin' an experiment. Give me a topic. I'll write something about it.

On Who Reads This Thing

OK.... so my stat counter thingy tells me that I out words out there and people ACTUALLY read what I say. That blows my mind :) Hopefully you randoms out there are at least mildly entertained. Thanks for reading!

On Creepin' our Inspiration

I had a conversation recently with a bunch of high school girls. We were chatting about "girl crushes". We all agreed that the concept doesn't lie only with a small group of "weirdos". It was apparent by our impromptu straw poll that having a "girl crush"  is a widely-held practice among women.

I wrote here about the concept of "secret friends". Well, a "girl crush" is a different thing entirely. I define it as follows: Regarding another girl/woman with awe because she possesses qualities you admire/wish you had. Said girl/woman generally is someone you have little to zero contact with and who you may or may not have enough in common to be friends with were you to actually meet.

As I don't wish to embarrass myself, my girl crushes will absolutely not be shared here. I do have them, however.

I have an acquaintance who has a blog/vlog. I haven't seen her in about 10 years. The last few days I've been catching up. This is what got me to thinking about girl crushes. The concept of girl crushes does involve observing a person that doesn't directly know they are being observed. E.g. Watching the tv show she stars in, reading all of her books, etc. Choosing to be in the public eye supposes the notion of others seeing whatever it is you put out there. Now... my acquaintance graciously invites her audience to enjoy her   blog/vlog, but.... watching 20 or so episodes of her vlog back to back at a time does seem like I'm just plain creepin' - invited or not. AND... she's more of a secret friend for me anyway. The two of us are definitely kindred spirits.

Because I'm the analytical sort, I was considering (as I was creepin' through vlog episodes) the sources from which I draw inspiration. Two of my answers were, of course, secret friends and girl crushes. When we are little we look to parents, siblings, and friends for cues on how to be and ideas for stuff to get into. As we age and our world gets bigger, countless sources for inspiration materialize. I believe our personal convictions as well as our personal tastes draw us to particular people. It's logical to me that women would be drawn to other women (regardless of what you name the practice) because we can closer identify with them than we can dudes. So there.... notion de-mystified!

In case you want to check out the blog/vlog of my not-so-secret-friend. You can find her here

I'm a Big Scaredy-Cat

I met AN OLYMPIAN!!!!!

I was at our State Qualifier meet last weekend. We had just gotten there and I was chillin' waiting for things to get started. A woman/coach walked into the gym. She caught my eye because she looked familiar. I noticed another coach talking to her.

Well.... during the coaches meeting I sat next to him. He asked me if I remembered Hope Spivey. Well, duh!! Yes, I was a fan. She was on the 1988 Olympic team. That Olympics happened while I was still competing. The coach I noticed was her!!!! And, our gymnasts ended up in the same group so I conversed with her. Here is a video:

Hope Spivey 1988 Olympics

Now... the girls don't know who she is because they weren't even born in 1988. So I told them. I was just in awe. And.... I am shy. So I was too shy to talk to her about anything other than the task at hand. BUT.... my oldest and a girl from my team approached her and told her I was a big fan and asked for her autograph. How embarrassing!! Anyway... so I have her autograph. After I got over being embarrassed I thought that was pretty cool that they did that for me. That was pretty sweet. I am left, however, still feeling like a dork for not just talking to her.

On Glimpses of My Other Self

Today my "boss" rode in my car. I say "boss" because she is, but she doesn't illicit the stereotypical "the-boss-is-coming" feelings for me. I happen to like her a lot. She's super easy to work for and with.

She and I have had conversations before about how we agree that we have distinct personas that show up to specific venues (away-from-work Stef vs at-work Stef) Our paths don't cross outside of the office so we're pretty much left to wonder about the other sides of each other we claim exist.

The odd part of her riding in my car is the notion that my car is the place on the planet (except my kitchen when no one is home) where I feel most free to be me. See here for more on that. Anyway, other than my family members, others rarely ride in my vehicle. So for me, the experience feels a lot like inviting another person to read my diary or something like that. I feel like maybe they can sense leftover crazy in the space; Or perhaps I'm afraid I might burst into song.

When I worked in the rehab department at the hospital in Florida, I learned that physical therapists are a lot like other physical therapists, occupational therapists are a lot like other occupational therapists, speech pathologists are a lot like other speech pathologists, etc. I also learned that each specialty seems to have a particular skill set where they excel. Now I work with athletic trainers. I've learned that athletic trainers are a lot like other athletic trainers. They also have a skill set where they excel. It seems to me that athletic trainers are quite skilled at gathering information and noticing details. In the case of my "boss", I can say something in passing that is truly unimportant and it may well come up in conversation months later. I don't know why after 5 years that still surprises me.

So boss-lady climbed into my ride today and I was so entertained by her commentary revolving around things she noticed. She has even nick-named my vehicle. That's so funny to me. Apparently she got a glimpse of away-from-work Stef. I think she liked her.