A Follow-Up on Priorities

A parental mastermind or a twisted she-devil? You decide...

PLAN: Align my children's priorities with my own.

LEVEL OF SUCCESS: Fairly high thus far.

If you will recall, last week I was attempting to diminish the level of fighting going on between my children.

EXECUTION: One child had to find his own ride to scouts. He was uncomfortable making the call. Another child had no way to get himself to the store to purchase supplies for his school project. He wisely used the rest of the week to put forth a little effort at kindness, and caught a lift in Mom's Taxi the day before it was due. Sadly, he also had a poetry project due the same day, and two hours of football practice. It's so tough when things get done at the last minute.

GENERAL RESULTS: In a Pavlovian way, I have turned the word "PRIORITY" into a saliva-producing bell. Except instead of saliva, I get forced kindness. In all fairness, they are making more of an effort. It's a little funny to watch them try so hard, especially when they don't really mean it. My favorite is when I see them doing something "nice" for a sibling and they ask me, "MOM! Can this be a PRIORITY?"

I think this has been an effective experiment. I would like to see increased results, and will continue to implement the Priority Tactic. It is significantly harder for one out of three of my children. Two seem to catch the drift. One seems to catch the drift only when it is convenient for him. Which is inconvenient for me. Bummer.

Tunesday: Hey Mr. DJ

Zhane. Remember them? I wanted to name my first daughter Zhane. (Pronounced Jah-nay) Noe was probably a better choice. This song came out I think around 1993. Weekend nights, college parties, nothing but good times and great dancing.

I realized I've had very few female artists featured in my Tunesdays, so I tried to think of my favorites. These ladies haven't put out too much, but what they have is fantastic. Their upbeat stuff will make you feel like no one on earth can dance better than you, and their slow jams will make you cry. Plus, anyone who can rock the nearly-shaved head like they can is absolutely cool in my book.

If you listen to this song, you will want to let go of your stress and have yourself a little fun. Isn't that what music is all about anyway? Taking you somewhere you can't quite go on your own? Thank goodness for it.

A Shifting of Priorities

My Priorities At The Moment:

1. Have my children show kindness to one another, instead of being so stinking mean and rude to each other all the time.




My Children's Priorities At The Moment:

1. Arrive at football practice on time so as not to have to run additional, punitive laps.

2. Get to the store to purchase supplies for a school project.

3. Show up at Scouts on Thursday for a super fun biking activity.

4. Eat a snack after school.

5. Finish homework (oral reading to Mom) so they can go out for recess the next day.


My priority is simply not being met. In spite of numerous discussions, family lessons, polite requests, one or two lectures, and ample opportunity, it seems that MY priority is just not a priority for MY CHILDREN.


Therefore...
their priorities have dropped way down to the bottom of my priority list. For example:

Arriving at football on time isn't important to me right now. Bummer about the punitive laps. Purchasing supplies for the school project doesn't seem like a valuable way to spend my own money. I'm not biking on Thursday, why would it be important for me to load someone else's bike into my van and then use my precious time to drive to the activity? After school snacks cost money and require my effort to prepare. That has moved WAAAAY down on my list of important things to do. Listening to children read books out loud so I can sign off their homework assignments? Nah.

Here's to hoping there's a major shift in priorities in the immediate future, so everyone can live in peace and harmony.

Tunesday: Everything

The first time I heard of Michael Buble I was working in the back room stocking shelves at Bath and Body Works. There was this uber-Baptist chick who worked there, and while the rest of the crew was bringing in slammin hip hop and velvety RnB tracks to pass the time, she was constantly throwing on "inspriational" music. I thought she was a bit of a zealot, and she was totally obsessed with Michael Buble. So due to her need to save my soul, and the weirdness of the name "BOOBLAY", I have always avoided listening to him.
I have no idea how old or new this song is, but I recently heard it and fell in love with it. I didn't even know it was Michael BOOBLAY until I was already hooked. So he has now managed to sneak his way into my music library. Darn.
Anyway, do you ever sometimes listen to a love song from the perspective of a parent? I mean, it doesn't work for all of them, for example anything that makes reference to dimming the lights and lighting the candles wouldn't work. But this one, for the most part, makes a cool love song for your kids. We've been listening to it every morning getting ready for school, and I always make a silly point to dedicate it to my kids, and tell them that they are my everything. It's fun. Try it at your house.
PS Good luck getting past his cheezy variety-show mannerisms. You may want to leave the video playing and navigate away to a new tab, so you only listen to him. He is so Osmondesque, it's creepy.

Something That Worked For Me

I'm not a fan of discussing my issues with the world. Particularly marital issues. But I have also come to the realization that we learn things from each other when we discuss with discretion. So here is something I learned today.

I went to church this morning beyond angry with my husband. And he was none too thrilled with me. I sat as far away from him on the bench as I could without being overly noticeable to the general congregation.
I am a crier. I cry easily and often. It's so annoying. So when I'm mad, I cry. In an effort not to repeat the mistakes of my first marriage, I try very hard to be cognizant of the things I need to improve about myself. I was feeling very slighted in my efforts, and found it difficult not to cry during the services. The only thing worse than crying is crying publicly. I was getting angrier by the minute due to the argument we'd had, as well as the humiliation of crying in front of people.
Then I felt a prompting to hold my husband's hand.

HA. Seriously? I immediately ran through the list of reasons he did not deserve even the slightest nod of kindness from me. I felt very justified in scooting another inch away from him. Then I remembered something I read recently, which suggested that if we always act on our first inclinations of kindness, it will make a huge difference in our ability to soften our feelings. But seriously. If I held his hand, it would be like saying, "You win, and I am saying sorry, and I am not HALF as sorry as YOU had BETTER BE." I argued with myself for about five minutes, knowing what was right but wanting not to have to make the first move.

In the end, I held his hand. And after about forty seconds, I realized I was glad I did it. And after about 45 seconds, I realized he was glad too. And just like that, an entire day's worth of anger and frustration was over. The moral of the story is this: try to listen to the inner voice. Then be willing to set your pride aside and do what it says. It will probably work. Plus, it will save you a lot of money on make-up presents.

Tunesday: Lemonade

I can't remember exactly when this song found its way into my library, but I do remember it was a summertime... probably about five years ago? I loved it the first time I heard it. The name of the song is Lemonade, and the guy who sings it (Jeremy Manongdo) goes by the name Passion.
We had an event occur in our family yesterday that rocked us. It was disappointing and frustrating and sad. But by the end of the day, I didn't think there was any way I could love my husband more than I did. He was by my side, on my team, and I knew he felt what I was feeling.
My favorite line in this song is "You're soothing like the ocean rushing on the sand." I love the beach, and that line just makes sense to me.
Anyway... I love my husband and I feel like with him, I can do hard things. Thanks for being exactly what I need, baby.

*This version gets a little silly. Download the original track, without the college kids laughing in the background. You will love it.

Movie and a Book

We like to watch movies. Sometimes it takes us a few weeks to get through a whole movie, because we are so busy, plus usually I fall asleep before it ends. But we finally got through this one:

I realize it's not new. But my husband assured me it was a goodie. Have you seen it? If not, allow me to ruin the ending for you. She dies. It's horrific and depressing, and it ruined the entire movie for me. Skip finds it annoying that I expect all movies to have a happy ending. What. I do. There's enough sadness in real life. Hollywood needs to make me happy.

Hilary Swank was pretty good in her role as trailer trash who makes it big by optimistically working her way into women's boxing. You really root for her the whole movie. And then, BAM! Championship fight, grand prize... you guessed it... one million dollars. She takes a cheap hit from an animal of an opponent, falls wrong onto a chair, and breaks her neck. The rest of the movie she is paralyzed and dying. Clint Eastwood, Mr. Flint and Steel, is softened by her innocence and determination. He spends most of the movie chasing demons from his past, avoiding repentance, and lashing out at the world. And in the end, instead of finding redemption in a truly honest way, he "honors her wishes" by unplugging her breathing tube and injecting her with adrenaline. I mean, I woulda begged the guy to do the same thing for me, make no mistake. But the whole movie was so depressing, and his noble act of assisted suicide was very confusing to my conscience.

Don't see it. Unless you like that sort of thing.

Moving on.

I read this:

We like Tupac's music around here. We obviously don't listen to it very much because it is not appropriate for children, and we always seem to have some of those floating around. I am not trying to put the guy on a pedestal here. He was clearly a self-professed thug. Just ask his abs. But this book was written from the viewpoint of a young black girl whose life was profoundly affected by Pac's music. I actually checked it out of our school library... it's a Newberry Honoree. If you'd like to take a look into a life vastly different from your own and still feel connected to the honest emotions of it all, then read this. I cried a little. But I cried a lot at Million Dollar Baby, and I rate things based on the type and quantity of tears they make me shed.

The end.

A-HA!

I figured it out! I listened to the President's Speech backwards. Yes. And do you know what he said? Here are the highlights I pulled out:

-Support North Korea. NUKES RULE!

-While in school, boys should sneak into the bathroom with other boys, and girls should sneak into the bathroom with other girls because homosexuality is acceptable, even encouraged, in order to boost Democratic votes.

-Blacks unite! We can get rid of all the white people if we continue to proliferate our race. I'll make sure you get the funding you need to keep having babies, stay on welfare, and then we'll cut a deal with the Iranians to wipe out all the Causcasians.

-While we're at it, get your mom and dad to support my health care reform, so we can get rid of some of the older people in this country. They are such a drag to our society! Let's make like the Eskimos and float the nearly-deads out to sea on a small ice chunk. But only the white ones.

Seriously. I am so confused about the controversy surrounding this speech. Did you watch it? "Stay in school, work hard, do your best, overcome your challenges." The guy is a slug.

I fear for our country and its self-centered paranoias.

Ba-De-Yah, Say That You'll Remember...

September. Around here it means this:
Back to school for them.

Football for him. Lots and lots of football. Six hours of practices a week, games on Saturdays. When it's not being played, it's being watched. Good thing I enjoy it, or we could have problems.

More time instructing cadets for him.

And more insanity for me. We are busy, and having this full time job will take a lot of adjusting on my part. I no longer have any free time during the day to get errands done and take care of the house. I love my new job and am thrilled I got it. But I am absolutely ready for bed at the end of the day. Also, I have wasted a lot of brain power trying to understand this local billboard:

What's up with it? It's for duct cleaning. But there's a girl with red hair resting on a brunette woman's chest, while a semi-beared dark-haired man appears out of the concrete, with his eyes closed. Is he looking at them? Is he stalking them? Is he thinking of ways to poison their air? Or clean it? Is he the dad? Is he falling asleep because there is too much carbon monoxide in their home and therefore they need to take better care of their family air? Meanwhile, six hideous turquoise vans sit at the ready. Are they backups for the Scooby Doo Mystery Mobile? Are they going to run over the half-concrete man? I don't get it. Plus, what does this mean: "BREATH CLEAN AIR."

Someone 'splain me.

So that's it. September in a nutshell.

Tunesday: Retro Uh-Oh.

Last night, Skip and I were playing cards before we turned in for the night. This song was on the playlist, and when it came on, I started laughing. One eyebrow raised, the man says, "Yes??"
I say, "One day, my Dad and I were strolling around a KOA campground in Nephi, Utah. This was about my late teens/early twenties. We pass a small cabin and he says to me, 'Andrea. Do you see that cabin right there?' And I reply, 'Yes.' He then says to me, 'That's the cabin where you were conceived.'"

It was perhaps the most traumatic moment of my life. No child should ever be forced to learn that they were not actually dropped off by the stork. However, in honor of my parents and as a way of saying, "Hey, thanks for good times at the KOA." i offer this little number.

I love Marvin Gaye, and am convinced he was put on earth simply to improve the love lives of the human race. God bless you, MG.

ps I kinda wish this is still the way people danced. It would make chaperoning so much easier.