Rubbed the wrong way...

I'm so irritated right now, testy, annoyed and I wish that I was still taking Tae Kwon Do just so I could punch or kick some stranger. Funny too because I was in a pretty good mood just a bit ago. I think it's the constant flood of personalities and demands and needs and voices and, and, all of it coming from four different directions all at once. I can be folding the laundry or typing on the computer and all of a sudden it's like the Hiroshima of noise and other people's needs right in my ears and on top of my head and I feel compelled to put my hands over my ears and scream until it goes away... but it doesn't and then it passes, well, sometimes it passes. In this case, it didn't.

I get overwhelmed with all of it; technology, bills, shopping, organizing, working, playing, even picking kids up at different schools. Some days when they are all out of the house, I feel like I'm in the middle of someone else's movie reel; it's quiet and I can actually think for a minute or two and then wham! the phone rings, the dog barks, the neighbor knocks on the door, the timer goes off on the dryer and my head starts to spin again only this time without three voices yelling out, "Mom, where's the WD40?, Mom why does he keep hitting me? Mom can I have 3 Oreos? Mom, there's a delivery guy here... Mom, Mom, Mom..." and then, shut down or, in this case anger. I'd go and work out but I'm just too damn tired now to get up off this chair and the thought of doing one more thing just adds to the irritation. But you know what? Chocolate might help.

I spiral down very easily, but lately I've been able to pick myself up pretty easily too. It depends upon what is causing the spiral. If a person or people is or are causing it, I can usually let it go... usually. But if the person in question has done something that cannot be dealt with immediately then it eats away at me like an ulcer. I sit and the thoughts fester like cold sores in my mind and I begin to think the worst and then, wham! it's back on to something else. I so wish that people could read my mind some days so that they would know exactly what I need when I need it. Not all the time, but sometimes would be nice; not having to say it. And once again, being in a household of non-analytics (growing men), most of the time I have to pretty much spell it out for them, Tim included. Once Tim asked me to make him a "Honey Do" List and leave it on the fridge. Once... I told him that if he ever asked me what HE needed to do and then I had to write it down for him again that he'd better add file for divorce to that list. I ripped up the paper and said, "Look the fuck around, there's your list" and I walked away. Harsh? Not at all considering that a grown man was asking me what he should be doing? I think not.

I also have a hard time with stupid questions. If you've ever had a teacher or an authority figure tell you that there is no such thing as a stupid question, they were lying to you because there are and if you learn from your mistakes, STOP asking them. Think before you speak which is mostly the problem with which to begin. In addition, people who don't do what they said they were going to do and it affects me and my plans, well that just ticks me off to no end. See, I'm not much of a planner; I'm more of a fly by the seat of my pants type of woman. I want to do something, I'm there and if I don't then don't bug me about it. But when I want to do something and I actually planned it and I'm counting on someone and then they flake... the steam starts to bellow out of my ears and my eyes and my brain until I feel completely fried.

And to top it all off, I've given up red meat and I'm thinking about giving up chicken and turkey too. I don't know if I can give up fish; now or ever, but I might consider it in the future. I'm reading this book, The Omnivore's Dilemma and it is completely changing the way that I look at food and not only what I eat, but how I shop and how my whole family is involved in the food chain. It is enlightening and disturbing and it's made me angry too because I love steak and hamburgers and spaghetti and changing the course of a diet that has been 40 years in the making well, let's just say that my body and my mind are doing some serious re-adjusting. I might have to start smoking pot;maybe that will balance it out. Hey, it's an herb. I don't know; it's like starting a new diet, a new way of thinking I guess, a new mentality and right now that mentality is racked with anger...

I haven't been running either. We did that half marathon 2 weeks ago and although I've been working out every day in some way, I haven't thrown on my shoes and gone for a run and I can tell that my body needs it, my mind needs it. There is something liberating about the repetition of your feet moving you forward and nothing but you and the road. There doesn't have to be any equipment, any plan, you just... go. I might drag myself up in a few minutes and go, I might. Hell, I might do a lot of things.

I try very hard to reconcile being a woman with being a mother and most of the time, I fail. Trying to create a balance often throws me off balance entirely and I'm a hamster, spinning my short little legs on the wheel, going nowhere while thinking desperately, if I could just go a little faster, I could get there. If I could just... If only... and Valentine's Day. With the exception of a friend whose birthday is that day, did I mention that the day might as well be Satan's birthday? I think that it is the most ridiculous, stupid, pointless waste of money, time and effort on the planet. Well, not the most, but it is right up there with Coke Zero. I mean really? Flowers, candy, lingerie? Diamonds, dinner, cards, well, actually, I like the cards, but I'm a write a note kind of girl so that's okay and as much as I like sexy lingerie, it's expensive and it ends up on the floor in less than a minute anyway. So now, when I want something sexy I buy it for myself, to actually wear and if Tim happens to see it then that's okay too, but good lord, have you been to Victoria's Secret lately? I paid $48 for a bra the other day. It's one of the best bras I've ever owned, but fifty damn dollars. I almost hyperventilated in the store. But, I digress. Valentine's Day; the lamest of all "holidays" and you really can't even call it that to begin with now can you? It's a day for little kids and old people and teenage girls who are pining away for their "love." Everyone else can suck it as far as I'm concerned and yes, you may quote me.

So that's it I suppose. I've sat here brooding long enough. Time to go and hunt down some ice cream or maybe go for a run or try again to chase the husband around the house, but even that isn't sounding so appealing. Man, I really am in the dumpster... somebody throw me a life line.

A little ramble...

I turned to Tim this morning and said straight out, "I need to have sex; I need someone to put his hands and mouth on my body..." and then I waited. Nothing, no response but a smirk. So I added, "What's it gonna take?" and he laughed and said, "500 bucks?" and then I laughed. As he was leaving for work I yelled out, "I'm serious" and he yelled back while continuing to laugh, "Okay, good luck with that." Bastard. Well, it was kind of funny, but you know what, I'm getting sick and tired of that man playing hard to get. We both know he's easy so I just don't get the game playing; his acting like a teenage girl who I have to flirt with and coddle and PAY? Where's my copy of the marriage contract, I have rights too you know...

I like to mess with Tim because he takes it well and because he's smart and funny and he always seems to come back with something that makes me laugh or that really pisses me off and, honestly, I like both of those results. I won't tell him that, but he's my husband, there are so many things already that he doesn't know, why start telling him things now. It will only confuse him. I'd like to say that I have a theme for this particular lavaload of words that is rushing out of my head, but I don't. I thought that I'd just randomly "spew" ideas; that does not sound good, not at all so I am definitely going to leave it in.

I think it is rare when you can find someone with whom you have a real connection and I'm not talking about Tim now; I'm talking about more of a friend, more of a friendship that bends itself to your will but which also tests you at the same time. I am a firm believer in the kind of Karma that twists itself around and which puts people in one another's paths and I definitely believe that people come into my life for reasons that I cannot begin to explain. And, if I say that I just sense it, well, that will sound too Psychic Network so I'll just say that I believe it and leave it at that. For instance, the students in my classes; most of them are there because the time slot allowed them to be there, but every so often, there are one or two who happen to end up in there because of some ill fated computer error or because of an alternative scheduling issue and sometimes, not always, but sometimes, there is a reason that they are in my class and not someone else's. The sad part is that I don't always recognize when that is the case, but every so often I do and it cements it all together: me, them, a purpose, even if it is only a brief encounter...

Boys, it's like raising boys. Why am I living in a house of penises? I know, cheap trick, but you're listening now or staying with me for a minute. Even the cats are male and the bearded dragon. It's just Riley, the dog and me and if you think that you are being original by thinking, well at least she's got another bitch to hang out with then you can just forget it; been there, heard that. So, Riley and I try to hold it together amidst the fog of caveman like odor and aura that permeates our household. And don't get me wrong, I like men; rugged, strong, sweaty, athletic, among other things, but I digress. What I don't like are sweaty soccer socks stuffed into bedsheets and yogurt containers that are left at the bottom of a hamper or half starved animals who sit at the dinner table and eat like they've never had a meal before and when you ask them a question, they just grunt. Yeah, well same to you Porky. Cultivating manners and dinner conversation with boys who are 13, 11 and 4 respectively well, let's just say that sometimes I feel like ramming the fork into my right eye instead of carrying on a conversation with any of them.

I pointed to Tim before he went to sleep tonight and I said, "You are going out on a date this weekend" and he smiled and asked, "With who?" Laughter on that one, "You are taking me out on a date this weekend and we are going to end up in the backseat of the car or at a hotel" "Really?" he raised his eyebrows and I winked at him mysteriously. He said, "Hmmm" and rolled over. I waited, it couldn't be that simple, "Yvette, we don't really have money for a hotel room right now" You can see me rolling my eyes in defeat right then can't you? "Okay, backseat it is then" and he laughed. My husband of 17 years laughed once again even though I really wasn't kidding, not about this.

I wish I understood them more or even half the time. I wish I had more patience for when they start whaling on each other. I wish that, just once, one of them would sit down and color with me or actually want to read a story. Raising boys is like praying for rain in a drought... you just don't know what the outcome will be and even if you did, you can't guarantee that everything will turn out okay. Maybe that could be said for girls too, but I'll bet you that it wouldn't smell nearly as bad... Sheesh.

Top Ten reasons to have children...

10. You can force them to take out the trash...

9. You can answer most all questions with, "Because I said so..."

8. There might be someone there to take care of you when you no longer can...

7. Halloween candy

6. Someone to tell you, "I will be sad and I will miss you a lot when you die..."

5. Tax Break

4. Someone to blame for why your body no longer looks like it did when you were 20..

3. Cool toys to play with...

2. It's another chance for you to "turn out okay..."

1. Sometimes it takes a lot of practice to make them...

Doing something well...

There is a lot that can be said about doing something well; really putting the effort in and then having the outcome match that effort. The challenge and the struggle, even if you "fail," are what's important, at least that's what I always thought. Competition is crucial, pushing yourself to the limit, even moreso, but feeling good about yourself when you know that you don't have anything more to give? Well, let's just say that THAT feeling is something you wish that you could experience everyday. See, I just don't understand mediocrity. Oh, don't get me wrong, I am a very average person, even below average in many things that matter like parenting, but, my mediocrity stems from those things in which I do not engage. In those arenas in which I throw myself to the lions, I either do my best or I kill myself trying. And, my point here is that I am raising a virtual bunch of mediocritites and yes, I've just coined that word, maybe the Oxford English Dictionary will include it next year in their annual list of new words to be published. Hell, they put bromance in this year's, I might have a shot.

My theory here is that, by example, my heathen, spoiled, undisciplined, slacker children will see that there is much to be said for hard work and effort and that when they see me busting my ass to do the laundry or take out the trash and grade papers and play with Ty and attempt to cook dinner, that they will come over and help me, that ultimately, they will smile and ask, "And how can we make your life easier Mother?" But no, not my boys. Sure, they are funny and charming and they make me laugh more than they make me cry, but wait, they are still young. But their idea of a work ethic is grabbing the first plate to dish out the food that they didn't make and then rolling their eyes when I ask them to clear their plates from the table. Now I realize that most of this is my fault and I am taking my share of the responsibility here, of course I am. How could I not? What I need to change is my triage mentality of parenting and I need to move more into preventative parenting. One can only hope that it is not too late... For example, Nick complained of a stomach ache a bit ago, so I told him to go and lay down in my bed for half an hour; it's cooler in my room. He did and I sat in his room typing on the computer. Alas, he walks into his room, not ten minutes later to say, red faced, "Mom, I don't feel so..." and projectile vomiting all over the carpet. I guess it was a good thing that he drank that milk with dinner. So, as I scrubbed the vomit out of the beige colored carpet (Tim's idea), I contemplated the notion that children, like Play-Doh, take the shape of whatever mold you press them into, willingly, ably and without question. I guess the questions come later, but by then I can just kick them out of the house. My first question would have been, "Why didn't you just go into the bathroom?" But I already know the answer. I could see it on his face; he was coming to find me, in the hope that I could make it better. I couldn't and now his room smells like curdled milk...

As a teacher, the type of student who infuriates me beyond all others, besides the heckler, is the one who was SO capable and smart and has so much potential, but who chooses to fail because he/she is just plain lazy. I've had students who worked extremely hard and they still failed, but then there was one of these kids across from them and it makes me crazy. They have so much going for them, but, for whatever reasons, they just don't do what they need to do. Case in point, my jackass 13 year old son Jake. I love Jake, you know I do and I chose the word jackass specifically here because a donkey will kick and bray and remain absolutely stubborn and resolute in his determination once he is fixated on something. Well, chuckle, meet Jake. If there were such a thing as a verbal oilspill, my son would have overflown by now. He is funny and charming and he has a great sense of humor. BUT he is also loud, obnoxious and he is constantly trying to find a shortcut to every single thing that he has to do that he doesn't want to do. And he is going to be one of those adults who is hit hard in the face with reality when he goes out into the world on his own. He and I have had numerous long talks about his life and his goals and his dreams and at almost 14, time is running out for my role in his decision making process. A few more years and he will have to figure it out and I will no longer hold the mold, by then, he will have broken mine and begun to form his own. At least I hope so. He will blatantly say to me, "I didn't do it because I didn't want to..." as if that were going to hold any kind of water with me. Nope, in my boat he'd be cast overboard with no life preserver. I just want him to understand that the reward is inherent in the work that he puts into whatever he wants to do or be and if he cannot follow mine or Tim's example then I'm going to just have to start beating his ass...

Rosh, Emma, Coco and I (not counting Salvador because he runs great no matter what) ran a 1/2 marathon last Sunday and not one of us wanted to do it. On top of which, Coco and Rosh were both nursing legitimate injuries and Emma, man, she was nursing a hangover and not having run for awhile and me, well, I'm just the chronic wet blanket in the group anyway so, we stood around before the race, bitching and complaining and knowing that none of us SHOULD run, but when the gun went off, guess where we were? Right there, off and... running. To top it all off, Coco beat us all and finished with a great time, but the point here is that we did finish and it was brutal. The course was lame and we were all hurting and none of us wanted to be there, but we said we were going to run it and so we did. Consequences abound, but that's exactly my point; say you're going to do it and then beat the shit out of that rug until all the dust and dirt are pummeled right out, until there is no blood, sweat or tears left to share or to complain about, even if you might imagine that there are.

There are so many things that I don't attempt to do because I know that I won't do well at them and it's not the lack of success that keeps me from it, it's the downright knowledge that I have limitations so I would rather focus on the things that I can do and that mean something to me. And those are the things that I will put to bed, smiling as my own face hits the pillow at night. I really would like to change the world; to leave an indelible print that people could follow. To ultimately know that my life meant something more than packing lunches and cleaning up vomit, important in their own right, but not so much in the way of making a difference in people's lives. (insert sigh here) So, deep down, in my heart, maybe even in my soul, I know what I need to do; I just need to find the strength and the will and the time to do it and then I need to do it well. It really is that simple or...maybe it isn't.

Ironman...

Sometimes when I am in the "hot box" otherwise known as the Bikram yoga studio; as in, tonight at the 5:00 class and I am on the border of hallicinating or crying or vomiting because the room is just too damn hot, I start to think to myself, "I've had three children, I've run a marathon, I've been married for 17 years, so shut the hell up, stop whining and do this thing!" But tonight I had to leave the room twice because it was too hot and I wasn't the only one, but the thing is, I'm learning or maybe re-learing my limits and I'm accepting them, um, okay, acknowledging them? I might be just a tad bit away from acceptance just yet.

I called my cousin Shannon. I mean I facebooked her; same as calling these days and I told her that we should train to do the Ironman triathlon. I didn't give any dates or numbers or a plan even, I just decided, what the hell, why not? She sent me back a message saying that she'd love to (gotta be in the genes I'm thinking although Rosh is not related to me and she's as balls out crazy as I am), but that 2012 might be a better time because of her schedule and her two little girls. My kids are getting bigger, but she is still working full time and is a full time mom so we agreed that we'd talk it over and take some time to train and then, we'd just do it. So I'm putting it down on paper. It might not happen in 2012, but in this, the decade of my forties, I will attempt to complete an Ironman triathlon. Now I say attempt because I know that I have the fortitude and the stamina to train for one and I also know that life puts up so many unexpected roadblocks that I have to be prepared for anything. And, since there are numerous other physical challenges that I want to take on, I must consider these as well. I suppose that I should fit some parenting in there too somewhere. My point, and I do have one is that once I say I'm going to do it, then I'm going to do it. And that's all she wrote...

Well, not all. So here I sit in the dark on a Saturday night so tired that I can barely see straight, listening to the labored breathing of the four year old with whom I bunk these days because he is "fraid of duh dawk Mom" and I contemplate the mass amount of hours and the grueling training that this endeavor will involve and I smile just thinking about it because like any other goal that requires diligence and hard work; just the thought of competing makes my fingertips tingle and my eyes light up and the endorphins begin to go... I hadn't thought about it in a while because I had been so out of shape for so many years, using the "I had babies" slogan, which I would never say is an excuse because, let's face it, pregnancy changes your body. Even those superwomen who fit back into their skinny jeans upon leaving the hospital will attest to the fact that parts of their bodies will never be the same again, no matter how many squats or leg lifts they do. And because I had forgotten how good it felt to be in shape, I also forgot how those feelings spill over into other areas of your life, making you want to continue the process over and over. Rinse and repeat if you will. I don't have to be a size 2, hell, I don't think I ever was a size 2, at least not since I was a child, but that's beside the point; the point is that I missed that strenuous physical activity that I had engaged in as an athlete prior to having had my children. Sure my body and mind were younger and more capable of recovery, but now, it is remembering a lot of what it had forgotten and it wants it back with a vengeance. One of my brothers asked me the other night if I wasn't getting a little OCD with the exercise. Of course not, I just reminded him of that very idea; that feeling of feeling athletic and how I missed it. He nodded, he knew what I was talking about. Besides, I just ate a pint of Haagen Dazs and I have to counterbalance my fat and caloric intake. Run to eat not eat to run... in this case, exercise.

I'm one of those people who has to constantly look forward, to the next thing and I have to set a new goal. Whatever that goal is, small, big, personal, saving humanity, you know, the usual. I mean, I ran the New York marathon this past year. The New York marathon, yes, it's a big deal, but I'm already thinking, When can I do it again and how can I improve my time and which charity can I run for next time? For me, life is too valuable to waste and although I do waste too much on trivial, nonsensical things; working my body and mind are not two of them. It keeps me in check and reminds me that if I can control this one aspect of my life that I can then be better for my family and my job and my world. And at the very least, I'm not nearly as angry as I usually am...

I hope to live long enough to see my children finish school, get married and maybe even have children of their own. And I'd like to think that I could do all of these things from a place of good health and peace; a place where my children don't have to argue over who has to take care of mom. Jake will just stick me in a home, of that I am quite positive while Nick might let me come and live with him; the jury is still out on Ty and I'm guessing that after the kids are grown that Tim will just up and boot me out; I'm living on borrowed time as it is. Maybe if I can nail down a full time job... hmmm, nah, might interfere with my yoga time.

So, the ironman, impossible you think? Have you been listening to anything that I've said this past year? Do you not know me at all? Wait for it... 2012 is right around the corner...

Entertainment value...

I find it both amusing and interesting that people are reading my thoughts and that they are now commenting on them. Amusing because I don't know many of those people and interesting because I do know many of them. I received a message from someone in Russia, RUSSIA for crying out loud who just wanted to let me know that she thought that I was "funny" and that she likes to read about my kids and my life. Global communication has taken on a whole new meaning for a mom who blogs...

I was thinking about the lottery today, well, about what it would have been like to win that huge jackpot and I let myself imagine the possibilities if I won that kind of money. After about 10 minutes I had to stop because my heart was racing and my palms were sweating and since I don't even buy lottery tickets, I guess the whole exercise is futile. But sometimes it's fun to think about all of the nonsensical and entertaining things that could be done with a ridiculous amount of money. We went to see a movie last week, the 5 of us and, you do the math, but after, we agreed that an outing like that was going to have to be reserved for special occasions only. Seriously, almost a hundred bucks? It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. And I love going to the movies, but it has now moved into the realm of "once in awhile" treats, like Dodger games and Kings games and the theater. I love plays by the way and I love the LA Phil and I love to go to productions and sporting events and I would definitely use some of my new found fortune to do some of those activities. Even running events are costing more. $108 for a 1/2 marathon? I might have to just go down to the beach and run my own, well, me and Rosh. Forget the medals and the shirts and the 2,999 other people. I'm going to have to go rogue on this one. So, this notion makes me think about what else "entertains" me these days versus what used to and, sadly, how much it cost.

Museums... fantastic. The Getty, free admission right? Yep, but oh, um, $15 to park? What the fuck is that? Better carpool on that one. And Disneyland... forget it, definitely not the happiest place on earth unless you are a kid and you aren't paying for anything. And concerts, I love concerts, but talk about forking over half a paycheck. And going out to dinner, okay I'm just going to stop now. Depressing. I thought back to the stuff that we used to do as teenagers, when we were dating, when we had very little money and surprisingly, I smiled as I began to remember.

We used to go dancing and although there was a cover charge and sometimes a drink charge, you could stay at a club for hours on end so the charges were appropriate for how much time we got to spend at a place. We spent days, weeks, months down at the beach, skating, reading, drinking (again, not as costly during the afternoons); I remember getting so drunk one time that I rode my bike right off the strand and onto the sand. I don't quite remember how I made it back... We went to high school sporting events and parties that only required a keg and however much liquor people could borrow, buy or steal I guess. We took ice blocks up to the golf course in PV and rode down the hills. We hopped the fence at the drive in and sat between the cars and illegally watched free movies; sometimes, when we were younger, we'd take eggs and throw them at the screen so that they dripped down and left these huge marks and then we'd crack up when the movie came on and the screen was laden with yolk marks. When we were teenagers we'd throw people in the trunks and in the backseats of cars and we'd sneak in to the drivein. We'd sit out on people's lawns on warm days and listen to music, talking, sometimes drinking(notice a theme here?) We'd bike ride everywhere and we'd play strip poker which is always good clean fun and most of the time, free. We'd grab tennis rackets and head to the high schools, playing for hours and sometimes we'd bowl, in the afternoon. Maybe it's a question of tastes changing; now we like to do things that require more money and, ultimately, coupons... but it's nice to do things that are reminiscent of those times when 5 bucks could buy you a a whole day's worth of fun...

Girls night out is a fun activity that sometimes costs a lot, but that one is very worth it, just for the laughter alone. Playing indoor soccer can be costly, but also an activity that releases those precious endorphins and, a whole lot of anger and frustration at the same time. Gardening and watering in the yard while wearing a huge hat is also an activity that doesn't demand much nor does pulling weeds or shooting hoops or feeding the ducks at Wilderness park. Making brownies, coloring, reading or painting my toenails are activities that entertain me at a discount price.

I guess it's because we need more stimulation as we get older or grow up, yes, I set myself up for that one so go ahead and laugh or think what you will for a second, okay, done? But, if I'm going to be entertained to the point where I forget about the annoyances and frustrations of my everyday existence like the fact that I'm home with two sick kids today (help me) then it better be something that I'm looking forward to doing and that can keep my attention for longer than the two seconds that the four year old allows me to be out of his sight line. Is it bad to say that I look forward to the days when Ty goes to preschool... hell no it isn't. It makes me, probably for the first time, completely normal. I love to play Scrabble and do crossword puzzles, I like to play cards (for money) and I love to sit in Ty's little pool on hot days. OH and water balloons, I love to fill up and throw water balloon, yes, at my children...

So, any ideas on how to entertain me? I'm open for suggestions. All I can say is that, please make it semi cheap and please let it be something that doesn't involve a complicated set of rules or some prerequisite of which I have no knowledge, like beer pong. And, if it involves alcohol and music, hey, all the better. Or being naked? Hmmm... just wanted to see if you were still paying attention. Hi Russia girl!

Nick turns 11...

Today is my middle son, Nick Thomas's eleventh birthday and the poor kid has not been feeling well all day. He was coughing and he even vomited a couple of times; not too badly, but enough so that he just felt down and well, sick. He wanted to go to dinner with the family and he said earlier, when he was sitting in the bathtub, "I know I don't feel good, but I really want to go to dinner and spend my birthday with the people I love." How damn cute is that? So, we went and it was fun, but he came home feeling really sick and now he's asleep.

I guess I should write about Nick since it's his birthday, but Nick is kind of my private child meaning that his life and his situation are more for our family than for all of you who read this drivel as I write it. I could go on with anecdotes about Jake and Ty FOREVER, but Nick, he's the one that I hold very close to my heart so to speak and he is the one who I will worry about long after he's left home. Jake and Ty will be fine; they may not go to college or get the job of their dreams, but they'll survive because they are both gregarious and they reach out to people as if people were their means of life support. They like to be around a lot of people, they like to be the center of attention and they both tend to thrive in a chaotic environment. Whereas Nick is much more like Tim; solid, pensive, introverted, maybe even sensitive. Nick is sensitive but the jury is still out on Tim...

One of the things that I've really hated seeing over the years, particularly with raising boys is this dick swinging attitude that is perpetuated by a large population of the male species. Of course I'm generalizing and I've touched on this before when mentioning coaches, but I never claimed to be politically correct nor have I ever counterargued my own ineptitude(s) and faults. Besides, if I've said it once, I've said it five thousand times, these are my thoughts so (insert expletive of your choice here) if you don't like it. The thing about the "dick swingers" and for those of you who do not know to what I refer, it's basically that quasi-cultural bias that reeks of a time when men were men and women, well, they weren't the same as men. But this isn't about women; it's about that slap on the back, play football, fuck the cheerleader, beat the shit out of the freshman or homosexual or the weak guy; the guy who is different from the others; different in a way that is palpable, noticeable, real, type of guys. The boys who didn't play sports, who didn't date the "popular" girls, who chose hobbies and activities that suited them and not necessarily the prototype "mold" that is often ingrained in boys from the time that they are small. "Want to be a real man son? You've got to kick the shit out that kid." Yeah okay tough guy and who's going to homeschool him when he gets expelled for bullying or fighting? See, boys who are quieter, loners, who choose to be outside of the mainstream, they do have a tougher go of it. I've seen it, I see it all the time. I taught high school and middle school and as the years go by, it doesn't change, it just takes a slightly different shape.

Nick told me that he didn't want to play baseball this season and I didn't ask him why. I just asked him if he was sure and he said, "Yeah Mom." And that was it. I think that this was the last season for soccer too. I have no problem with it and I loved that he said that next year, when he goes to middle school that he'd like to be in the Chorus or maybe the Band. And he'd like to learn to speak Spanish and maybe take Hip Hop lessons. All of this from a boy who says very little, who spends a great deal of time alone, who reads like books are crack and he's addicted, who loves video games and has become so adept at playing that he has to explain the simplest moves to his out of practice parents. Nick is a bright, sweet, loving boy who is trying to forge a place in a world that begs him to turn to athletes and movie stars and Ninja Warriors to use as his role models. When really, for a kid like him, he needs to be turning to Gustavo Dudamel or Ray Bradbury or Eric Clapton or Steve Jobs or someone who could turn to him and say, you know what Nick, the measure of a man is not the size of his triceps or how many chicks he banged in high school; the measure of a man is the confidence and the pride that he carries and that defines him throughout his life. Those are the kinds of role models that my son needs and that we continue to point out or try to have him turn to when he needs some "guidance."

The thing is, I look at Nick and I see a boy who does things his own way, in his own time and although society works the other way around with us trying to "fit in;" I don't see that for Nick. He will try and he will figure out what works for him, but he will also find it in a way that suits him, not everyone else. I just hope that it is a path not inundated with narrow minded simpletons who are too immature or naive enough to accept and to validate the true differences in people. Who am I kidding? Would it be too much to do covert ops when he goes to high school? I just don't want him to feel like he has to be any certain way or do any certain thing; that he should be happy with who he is. One of the things that I've told Jake over the years, well, the past couple of years and I tell Nick too, but he tends to roll his eyes at me is that if someone doesn't like you, then it's fine. For every person that doesn't like you, there are dozens who do or will as you grow up. It's harder for them to see as kids because they and we all want to be accepted and loved and they want to fit in. And being a teenager is hell on earth for many kids; surviving those years is their own personal war and sometimes it is a a miracle if they get out alive. Just watch the news, sadly... I also tell them that it is not important what other people think about them unless they value that person and his/her opinion. I told a friend once that I don't care what other people think about me and that is completely true. I really couldn't care less, but here's the thing; I do care, very deeply what the people I love think and that is why it does hurt sometimes and it is painful when they hold a mirror up to my behavior and they say, "Take a good look Yvette, it's not what you think." Then it is often time to re-evaluate. I can't live my life worrying that people might not like me or that they are talking about me behind my back. At this point, I'd be worried if they weren't. So, I am teaching my boys to ride their own waves, even if they have to splash about and tumble and wait to produce them on their own.

I found out that I was pregnant with Nick on my 30th birthday. We went and saw a play at the Geffen that night, and all through dinner, all I could think about was "a baby, another baby." 9 months to the day, on the actual holiday, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Nick entered the world, all 9 pounds, 5 ounces of him. Black hair, perfect, little fingers, such a good sleeper and eater, quiet, never a behavior problem... I have many dreams for you my middle child, but the biggest one is that you find the self confidence that will carry you through your days and which will help serve as a shield to fend off the doubts and the worries and the pain that will certainly accompany you during those days.

I hope your eleventh year is filled with wonder and love and a limitless amount of moments that make you smile. Happy Birthday Nicky. I love you...