The curse of the New Year's Resolutions

Last year JCK decided to take a stand. She was tired of being bullied and prodded into making those infernal New Year's Resolutions. You know the ones. Yes, those ones. The ones that die a quick death as soon as they are uttered. JCK likes to call this...The curse of the New Year's Resolutions.

So, JCK being a bit smug and secretly mocking all those around her who earnestly declared their 2010 resolutions, decided to have a resolution...to have NO resolutions. JCK likes to feel that she is different. Even if it doesn't get her anywhere.

Sadly, JCK and her vainglorious stand of NO Resolutions didn't lighten her load. Instead the juicy juice thrill of not having the burden of New Year's Resolutions faded out with a whimper. Sometime in mid-spring.

So, this year JCK is going to join the masses! The masses of Do-Gooders who desire personal change. Who yearn to reinvent themselves, if not the world, with their resolutions. Yes! JCK will clutch those resolutions, once she makes them... to her wildly beating heart. This time...this time, she will NOT bow out.

JCK also surmounts that perilous cliff side perch of the number Five uh-OH! this next year...2011. September comes around fast when you're edging toward one of those Big 0 birthdays. And, unfortunately for JCK, time moves forward not backward as she might wish.

Will JCK follow in her, much older by 4 years, husband's footsteps? Will she traverse the Grand Canyon for her 50th birthday, rim to rim in one day? Sadly, NO. The only rims JCK believes in peering into are the rim of a box of chocolates and that Jack O'clock whiskey glass...

But, JCK believes in physical challenges! Yes, she does! JCK envisions for her 50th birthday...sitting in a Paris cafe, eating stinky cheeses and fresh bread. She will be wearing a chapeau tilted over one ear, just so. And her golden, red or brunette locks will gently stir as she turns her head. Wig makers abound in Paris! She will walk by the Seine, stopping to jot down poetry. And when that gets too exhausting, she will nap without mussing her hair.

After she leaves le France, JCK will pop over to Scotland to see a manly man in a kilt...just once. Or twice... Hell, JCK might be so distracted she'll play peek-a-boo THREE times

*****************YOOO HOOO...JCK!?

Ahem! AHEM!...Oh, Yes! The New Year's Resolutions! Please stand by as JCK ponders this awesome task. It may take some time...


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And you, dear reader, what are your resolutions for 2011?



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Painting "Last Ride" by Chuck Gumpert.

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Merry, Merry!

Blessings to you and your family on this day...and all the days to come.

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...Gingerbread and Transformers Battle

JCK is hoping that you are pulling out the Merry! After all, you still have 2 days left until Christmas. Although it looked like Row, Row, Row your Boat had become a reality, the rain has finally stopped... JCK keeps listening to that noisy SILENCE in the Night.

The Motherscribe Household has been on mandatory storm watch for almost a week. Children have been seen climbing on furniture, screaming at the top of their lungs, and using their naughty little hands to poke, prod and all around bother other folks and each other. JCK has been grateful no one can read her thoughts. Madness! Pure, madness!

JCK herself has been seen dangling from her very last nerve. And then some. JCK doesn't know how other people manage to keep themselves sane in a rainy world. JCK lives in Southern California. She admits to being a bit of a woos, but COME ON PEOPLE, 6 days of rain!

There were many games played inside the Motherscribe residence this week. When JCK's children are not screaming and climbing on furniture, she is proud of their creativity. One day there was a rousing game of...Gingerbread and Transformers Battle. It was explained to JCK by GIRL that it couldn't be called Gingerbread Men and Transformers Battle, because there was a Gingerbread Lady. JCK was seen flushing with pride. Her daughter is obviously tapping in to her inner warrior Woman. Even if her inner woman resembles Gingerbread. And is stuffed.

The Motherscribe kitchen was full of flour and sugar and molasses and red hots this week. Several batches of homemade gingerbread cookies and fudge were whipped up. BOY & GIRL got in on the action and one fun evening was spent cutting out and decorating gingerbread. GIRL loves color and BOY believes in the overuse of red hots.

This year JCK admits to being a bit over baked. But, her spirits are high, and she wishes all of her readers a wonderful Christmas full of love and laughter. And, if the FA LA LA gets too much for her, JCK will sit herself down on the vacuum in the hall closet, close the door, and be grateful. Because she is blessed. With family, friends, and a vacuum cleaner that doesn't have to be turned on...

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Santa and rainbows

BOY: Mommy, I don't believe in Santa Claus.

JCK: What?! How come?

BOY: I think he is a rainbow.

JCK isn't quite sure she understands the correlation, but wishes she could see those kind of rainbows...

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JCK is just one nut short of a fruitcake

JCK has now entered via centrifugal force into the HOLIDAY ZONE. She is unprepared. She is behind. She is in ...trouble.

JCK wishes to be that woman. You know the one. The calm, collected, rational one. The one who purchases "just the right gift" for everyone on her list...throughout the year. And, doesn't leave everything until the last possible minute...

When the calendar turns to December, that woman, that accomplished woman, can fully enjoy spending time with her family, baking goodies and volunteering at her children's school for the gazillion creative activities that are planned. Activities that bring tears to JCK's bleary red eyes. Because they truly are that wonderful.

Alas, that woman does not reside at Casa de Motherscribe. No, no, no. There may be some bell ringing (STOP THAT, BOY!), and holiday cheer (GIRL, could you PLEASE stop singing THAT song over and OVER!) around the edges. But, at this point, poor JCK, is just one nut short of a fruitcake. And, that fruitcake keeps turning up. Like an old fishnet...

Is JCK foolish to yearn for that serenity? Where one can look like Martha Stewart with her calm (albeit maniacal) smile? Where everything is SIMPLE. EASY. AND...just so LOVELY. Except for that brief stint at jail time. JCK ain't gonna go there, SISTAH.

So, JCK is taking deep breaths. When she can. Reassuring herself that everything Will. Get. Done. That her children see magic everywhere, and it doesn't take much.

Sometimes JCK reminisces about her own early childhood at Christmastime. And it was pretty great. Her mother was always baking, and the house was full of decorative wonder. She's sure her mother probably was frazzled, but it isn't what she remembers. And this gives her hope. For five minutes. Because her mother is endowed with limitless energy, and sadly, ...JCK is not.

JCK is getting a greater understanding into her Sixties childhood by her recent addiction to Mad Men. Child rearing was different then. Less watchful. More freedom. More punishment...

At the end of Season Two, Betty closes up her 8 year old daughter in a coat closet for a few minutes, after pulling her by her ponytail from the bathroom, where she was caught trying out a cigarette. (JCK wishes to note that she isn't surprised that Betty's daughter is curious, since her parents emit so much smoke themselves...as to rival a 1970's Pinto Station Wagon. Added note: this was JCK's first car, so she should know.)

JCK believes that it was probably not uncommon in that earlier era for mothers to close up children in coat closets for short periods. (Note: Betty didn't leave her in the closet. She talked to her through the closet door, and then let her out.) JCK's husband believes that JCK is WRONG. JCK thinks it is not beyond imagining. JCK would like to think that she would NEVER put her children in a coat closet. Yet, there are those days...

JCK is also jealous of Betty's wardrobe. And youthful glow...

However, a far likelier scenario would be that JCK would go into the coat closet herself. To hide from her children. Little darlings most of the time. Sometimes not. Sometimes very not.

This morning, as JCK was racing around encouraging, and encouraging, and stridently encouraging her children to get dressed, solving her daughter's wardrobe crisis and her son's inability to focus on anything other than building LEGO, she talked to herself. Audibly.

JCK: BOY, your mommy is a bit nutty. HaHa! (JCK emitted a little nervous haha. Discomfited by the fact that she had uttered her "words of truth" aloud.)

JCK: Maybe not. Maybe I'm not so nutty.

BOY: Oh, yes, Mommy. YOU are nutty. You really CRACK me up, mom. You really do. I think about you, and I just crack up!

There you have it. Even her children know it. JCK is just one nut short of a fruitcake. She hopes she's in good company. Please tell her she is not alone...




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Photo of The Fruitcake Lady courtesy of: thedailyblender.blogspot.com

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The elusive Chorister Star

A year ago, we withdrew BOY from choir, because his impulse control was such that he couldn't participate. It was a relief for all of us.

For myself, as my heart ached to see him unable to keep his body in his seat, or not speak out whenever a thought popped into his head that he wanted to share. For GIRL, as she worried about BOY, and it affected her enjoyment of choir. And, perhaps most important of all, it was a relief for BOY. After a full day of Kindergarten, a choir class in which he was required to do things he wasn't capable of doing made him feel bad, because he knew he couldn't do it. Then.

This fall he and I decided he was ready to try again. Oh, the growth! It's been such a joy to see him participate fully with his friends. And, to watch how proud he is of his hard work. And, he told me...Mom, it's REALLY hard work.

Not the singing, or the accompanying with the small instruments. No, the hard work is keeping his body still and following the rules.

The choir teacher is a hard task master. But, she's an amazing artist, and all of the choirs she directs are phenomenal. BOY & GIRL love being with their friends and learning the music.

Each week three students are rewarded with The Chorister Star. It recognizes their good listening, keeping their bodies where they are supposed to be, and participating fully.

Yesterday, BOY earned his first Chorister Star. He was so proud! At the end of class he came running up the stairs, made a beeline for me, and proudly stuck out his chest to show me the elusive Chorister Star.

He's wanted it for a long time. Ever since last year, when for the 3 weeks we did choir, all he wanted was the Chorister Star.And, there were tears each week, because he didn't have one. Now he's got one! What a lovely symbol of his maturation.

After class, one of the women expressed excitement, yet surprise that BOY had earned a star. I wouldn't have thought that possible, she said. For a moment I was angry. Then I was overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Because, I am his mother. And...I believe in him. All the way....

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a bit more time with her...in order to say good-bye

On Wednesday I took our dog, Cali, to the Vet. She hadn't been eating much at all over the last week. She's old. 13 1/2. I thought maybe she was having teeth/gum issues. Unfortunately, not...

It's cancer. And, she doesn't have much time. The doctor found a very large tumor on the back of her tongue, which is why she was having difficulty eating/swallowing. She was prescribed an antibiotic, pain medication and an anti-inflammatory. The prescriptions are to give us a bit more time with her...in order to say good-bye.

She's been an outdoor dog since the children were born. Now she's set up in the playroom at night. She's getting lots of love and attention. The medicine makes her drowsy.

It was hard to tell the children. BOY was especially upset. Now that a couple of days have passed, and she doesn't look any different, they have the illusion that she is OK. And, really... we are all clinging to that illusion. For as long as we can. I don't know how much longer she will be with us.

All I know is that the staccato of my fingers hitting the key board mirrors the echoing thud in my heart...

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