Honey-Do

Spring has sprung, and with it an event that my husband dreads every year: the awful "honey-do" list.

As I yield a pretty mean hammer and drill, I only put items on here that are absolutely impossible for me to do. I can hang a picture and even put together a storage cabinet from a kit, but adding an outlet to the kid's bathroom is something I will never attempt. Unless I feel the need to get an instant perm from the electrical shock I will inevitably give myself.

With the arrival of warm weather, however, my husband has other priorities. They are:

1) playing golf
2) watching golf on tv
and
3) dreaming about playing and watching golf.

As you can imagine, this causes some conflict in our household. I need a hand, and he wants to chase little white balls around with metal sticks.

Since I have made it a priority this year to work on my patience, I try to put the honey-do list in perspective. I try to remember that my husband is a hard worker and is also taking a very difficult electrical licensing class right now. Frankly, he needs a break once in awhile.

Also, if a to-do item sits on a list for awhile, so what? The world will not end if the lawn is not fertilized tomorrow.

So I will continue to smile as he heads out the door with his golf clubs, promising that he will get to the list soon. After all, patience is a virtue.

Besides, if he lets that list go for too long, I have some great hiding places for those clubs.

Dumbing Down

I have been asking myself the same question over and over lately: When did I become so stupid?

According to my teen and pre-teen, I have apparently become the stupidest person in the world. This is evident in the fact that they seem to roll their eyes at everything I say lately.

Although I have been on the earth for forty-plus years, I apparently know nothing and understand nothing. I had an argument with my daughter before school the other day all because I would not allow her to simply roll out of bed and get on the bus. I am critical of everything she does and, of course, "don't understand" anything. All this because I insisted she do something with her hair.

When Sean was on crutches and I had to drive him to and from school, I thought he would die from embarrassment. I was absolutely not allowed to get out of the car to help him under any circumstances and should stay as hidden as possible. I considered renting a white cargo van and wearing dark glasses, a hat and a fake beard simply to spare him the humiliation of the entire middle school realizing that he actually had a mother.

What happened to the days when they hung on every word and I was the center of their universe? I suppose it is called "growing up."

It is only natural for teens and pre-teens to begin questioning beliefs and testing limits. I can remember living in constant fear at that age that my own mother would say and do something that I deemed embarrassing in front of my own friends. And "something embarrassing" usually consisted of being in the same room.

I can accept this (although I call them on the eye rolling and mumbling) as long as they understand that there is no compromising on certain prinicples. When my son decided recently that there are too many rules in our household, he informed me that when he is 16 he is doing whatever he wants. I informed him that if he thinks that will happen, he better have a full-time job and his butt better be out of my house.

Rules regarding morality, grades, curfews, substance abuse and going to church will never change as long as my children are living under my roof. Period. As I have told them before: If you don't like it, get you own house.

My kids know the saying ad nauseam: This is not a democracy. This is a dictatorship. Heil, Mamma!

Birds Of A Feather Sure Make A Mess

One of my favorite ways to pass the time is to watch birds. I have set up two bird feeders outside my kitchen windows, which we keep filled year round.

It is amazing the number and variety of birds that get into the habit of coming to your yard when you feed them consistently. We have logged nearly 30 species of birds over the year. We even had a bluebird--the only one I have ever seen--coming to our feeders for awhile.

There is a downside to this wonderful spectacle of nature. Birds sure do make a mess.

Now that the snow has melted, it is obvious how much the birds have used our deck for "target practice" over the winter. I cannot tell at this point if the deck is supposed to be solid brown or brown with white polka dots.

Apparently I have also spoiled these birds so much that they now refuse to eat any seed that falls on the ground. Even ground feeders like the mourning doves now land in the bird feeders. I got a second surprise when the snow melted--a vast amount of moldy birdseed covering an expanse of lawn and garden.

As much of a pain as it is to clean up these messes, I would not dream of removing the feeders. There is something relaxing about spending a few moments watching the birds go through their daily routines.

Also, you would not believe how much bird watching can entertain cats. We refer to the kitchen windows as "kitty tv" since at least one cat is always sitting on the kitty perch chattering to the birds. This breaks up their daily routine of eating, sleeping, chasing catnip mice, sleeping some more, knocking down any breakables they can find, and sleeping.

So I will continue the expense of purchasing large bags of bird seed and the occasional forays outside with a scrub brush and rake to clean up what the birds have left us.

You'd think they'd come up with a better way to say "thanks."

One Smart Cookie

March is one of my favorite times of year. Not only does it mean that the end of winter is near, but the beginning of this glorious month signifies the delivery of Girl Scout Cookies in our area.

We look forward all year to these delicacies arriving on our doorstep. Nothing cures the winter blahs better than diving headfirst into a box of Samoas.

The Girl Scouts actually do a pretty good job of marketing these cookies. They are only available once a year in limited quantites. They have even expanded by allowing certain companies like Dairy Queen and the makers of Edy's Ice Cream to add the cookies to their products for a short time.

Of course, you know the Girl Scouts have got you hooked when you are willing to pay $3.50 for a box containing 16 cookies.

Sadly these sweets do not last forever. We have had them for less than a week, and my 12-year-old son has already devoured two boxes of the chocolate-covered peanut butter ones on his own. I ordered the Thank You Berry Much cookies for my daughter and I since Sean does not care for cranberries. He has eaten half the box. Now he is eyeing up my Thin Mints.

This means war. No one comes between me and my Thin Mints.

I was wathching a show called "Worlds's Dumbest Criminals" which featured a segment on two teenage girls stealing money from a Girl Scout selling cookies in front of a supermarket. When a news crew arrived to cover the story and talk to the very upset young girl, these two teenagers actually came back to the supermarket looking for their 15 minutes of fame. They told the news crew they took the money because it was an "easy crime." Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum were then arrested.

One of the show's hosts declared they had actually botched the crime as she would have gone for the cookies. She explained that she can always make money. She can't make Thin Mints.

I saw news coverage once of an overturned armored truck that spilled money all over a highway and resulted in several motorists exiting their vehicles for a cash-grabbing frenzy. Can you imagine the chaos if it were a truck full of Girl Scout cookies? I would never dream of stealing money that isn't mine, but I have to wonder if I would not be one of those people running around with arms full of cookie boxes screaming, "Hands off the shortbreads--they're mine!"

Since my conscience would never allow me to do this and the odds of a tractor trailer loaded with Girl Scout cookies crashing in front of my house are slim, I will have to be content to enjoy the sugary bounty while it lasts. Soon enough, the boxes will be emptied, the cupboards will be devoid of cookies for another year and semi-healthy eating habits will return to our household.

But all hope is not lost. I have devised a plan to make this fleeting season last a bit longer.

I have hidden the Thin Mints. They will have to torture the location out of me.

Looking For The Blessings In Disguise

We started 2010 with high hopes for a better year after a rather traumatic 2009, but it appears we are off to a rocky start.

Last Saturday, Sean and I were sitting a stop light on our way home from his basketball game when an elderly man plowed into the back of our minivan, sending our van into the back of the vehicle stopped in front of us.

Fortunately, I was far enough away from the little Honda ahead of us (which contained a father and his young daughter) that the damage to the front of the van was not severe and the Honda barely had a scratch. The back of my van, however, had caved in and the car that hit us was totaled.

I called 911 and requested an ambulance at the scene because the elderly couple in the car that hit us were obviously injured. The woman in the passenger seat, who was blind, was screaming. She apparently was not wearing a seatbelt and her head hit the windshield. The gentleman seemed to be in better shape at first, but quickly bacame agitated. He said he was diabetic and could not remember the last time he had an insulin shot and complained of pain in his chest.

The police believe the man was going into shock due to low insulin levels. A witness said he was travelling about 35 miles per hour and never hit his brakes before crashing into us. As of the weekend, police were unable to talk to him because his condition was very unstable.

I have not heard any more about this couple but am keeping them in my prayers. The police indicated they would let me know if the gentleman did not make it and would send out a detective to speak to me as part of their investigation. I figure no news is good news.

As for me, my back took a good wrenching as a result of being thrown back and forth, but there are no vertebrate fractures or ruptured disks. The soreness should go away in a few days.

At first we thought Sean had escaped unscathed. He was seated in the middle of the van and his knees had hit the seat in front of him, but he had no pain or obvious injuries.

On Sunday night, he started complaining about pain in his left knee and could not put weight on his leg. I took him to his doctor on Monday morning, who said the knee was swollen but did not suspect any major damage. However, he ordered an x-ray just to be sure. Unfortunately, the x-ray revealed that Sean's left knee is fractured.

He is now on crutches with his knee wrapped in an ace bandage, but is pain-free as long as he keeps weight off of his leg. A visit to an orthopedic surgeon on Friday will let us know the next step.

As upsetting as it is to have my child injured, I am trying to remember how much worse it could have been. I try to make it a habit not to stop right on top of other vehicles and was about six feet behind the car in front of me. Had I been closer, the impact to the front of the van would have been more severe, seriously injuring not only both Sean and I but also the father and daughter in the Honda. It could have also sent that car into the one in front of it.

This is also the first time since I lost my job that I am actually glad not to be working outside my home. I can now take Sean to and from school instead of having him struggle to get on and off the school bus in crutches.

I think the best thing any of us can do in these situations is look for those little blessings in disguise and thank God that situations and circumstances were not different. It is truly amazing how some minor decision or small annoyance can turn out to make the biggest difference.

I suppose there is some truth to the saying that everything happens for a reason. God truly does work in mysterious ways sometimes.

Turn On The Lights And Break Out The Prozac--Winter Is Here!

According to a news report I heard this morning, yesterday--the last Monday in January--is the most depressing day of the year.

I find it hard to believe that a Monday in January could be more depressing than April 15th or opening day of the Detroit Lions football season, but that's just my opinion.

According to the news, not only are the days still relatively short, but the Christmas decorations are put away and the holiday bills have begun to arrive. Those facts coupled with a long stretch of winter still ahead of us apparently increase depression.

There is probably some truth in this. If I don't have the windows uncovered to let in what little daylight there seems to be and keep myself occupied, I find myself wanting to eat an entire box of chocolates while drinking a bottle of wine as I lay in bed reading "The Bell Jar." If alcohol, excess pounds and a Sylvia Platt novel aren't a cry for help, I don't know what is.

Studies have proven that those of us not exposing ourselves to enough light this time of year can suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). I can almost hear the electric meter spinning with all of the lights I have been keeping on lately.

I may owe my soul to the electric company, but I figure it is better than being a candidate for psychotherapy. Or perhaps "a better candidate" would be a more accurate description.

I should probably turn on more lights--I feel a chocolate craving coming on. Guess I should also cancel the DVR recording of "Ordinary People."

Politics As Usual, Unfortunately

If I see one more image of Harry Reid on television or hear his name mentioned on any news program, I am going to throw something at my television.

The news media has latched on to the latest political faux pas and, naturally, is rehashing it ad nauseam.

I get what old Harry was trying to say. He was stating that most white Americans would prefer to vote for an African American candidate who looks and sounds more like them.

Of course, he could have stated this in a more delicate way, but politicians always need to learn from the "Open Mouth, Insert Foot" School of Political Science. He also could have kept his mouth shut, which politicians never seem to learn.

Instead, we have the annual media circus parading through Washington and politicians on both sides tripping over themselves to demand resignations and assess blame.

As I see it, the only purpose this serves is to keep people from wanting to enter the political arena. In every political race--no matter if it is local or national--it seems less time is spent explaining how a candidate would fix problems in favor of seeing how much dirt they can dig up on their opponent.

Who wants to run for office when some researcher may discover that your great grandmother's uncle's sister-in-law's cousin twice removed once loaned a cup of sugar to a neighbor whose father's stepmother's nephew's dry cleaner had ties with the Mafia? Obviously, this candidate has organized crime connections. At least his shirts might if they were labeled "dry clean only."

The only thing the current political climate is good for is discouraging people who may actually be able to solve some of our most pressing problems from serving their communities. People with integrity and intelligence now fear putting themselves in the spotlight, and that is the true political disgrace.

As for me, I would never in a million years run for political office. The opposing party would sick PETA on me. I accidentally ran over a squirrel a few weeks ago.