In A World Of Wi-Fi

Between trying to figure out this blasted Windows 8 and Office365, I am nearing the edge of pure madness. I do not handle change well.

Wait.

Let me rephrase that...
I do not handle unnecessary change well.

There is a difference.

I have papers to write, deadlines to meet, and a headache from all the nonsense my computer screen is throwing at me. Seriously. Can't we all just get along? I mean, I know my laptop can't hear me, but my pleas for mercy overflow nonetheless. {Sigh}. It doesn't matter. My cries fall on deaf ears, or keyboard as it would be, and I find myself wandering into the ever-comforting glow of the blog neighborhood.

Now this I understand.

The husband looks at me from time to time and smiles. Poor guy. He thinks I am working away when really I am just sitting here thinking about that stupid car commercial we watched earlier. You might have seen it. A Chevy and a Ford are compared (imagine that) with one having the wonders of wi-fi and smiling kids zoned out on tablets and smiling parents high on the silence. The flipside of this is the less fortunate having to deal with no wi-fi on the road and less than quiet kids. I suppose the message is the virtual world is a happy world.

As the commercial faded out and the gloom of the world came back on in the form of the six o'clock news, the husband made what I considered to be a very profound statement,

"I'm glad we never had any of that and our kids learned how to talk with us."

I thought about that as we sat in silence. I can remember having three little kids crammed into a vehicle and wishing beyond wishing that we had those new-fangled  DVD systems for the car. We knew others that did and they all raved about the peace and quiet such systems brought to any excursion, no matter how long or short. Once, for a brief period and for a reason I can't recall, we borrowed some kind of contraption for a road trip. I can't really say if we liked it or not... that's one of those memories that have faded along with the pitter-patter of little feet. The point is, I suppose, is that instead of logging out of life and signing into the constant glow of a computer screen, our kids ultimately had nothing better to do than to talk to us.

Sometimes loud.
Sometimes whiny.

But always real.

Today we have three young adults who, oddly enough, seem to actually enjoy conversations with us old folks. Maybe it has to do with all those books we read to them as kids. Maybe it something with all those meals we ate around a table.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's because we could never afford all that entertainment stuff and were forced to acknowledge life head on and not muffle it through the foam and cords of headphones. A stretch, I'm sure, but something to think about, I'm certain. If nothing else, it took my mind off my own reality if even for a short time.

Now,

Back to my own problems.
Your prayers are appreciated.

Image provided by keyword "Windows 8 Nightmare." Thanks, frustrated user. I can totally relate.

The Procrastination Queen

While the rest of the world discusses Bruce Jenner and other oddities of the universe, another noteworthy event took place today that would otherwise go unnoticed except for me and this marvel of a thing called blogging at my fingertips...

A scrapbook was finished.

I've never been one to boast about being an "on time" kinda girl. Slow and steady wins the race, as the saying goes. I definitely fall into that category. It's who I am. Of course, the downside of all this procrastination is that this scrapbook for the oldest was finished just in time (?) to start the one for the middle so I can try to get to the one for the youngest. Keep in mind the middle graduated last year and the youngest graduates next year.

That's 2014 and 2016, in case you're keeping track-
And puts the finish line somewhere around 2020.

At least I've got a game plan.

My Undoing

Few things in life drive me crazy. I mean, I'm relatively a calm person. I don't get overly anxious. I don't do drama (unless you count that stint in the eighth grade). I pretty much keep it simple.

This fly, however.

This hovering, buzzing, teasing fly is going to drive me INSANE.

It taunts me as I sit on the couch. It follows me to the kitchen and wreaks havoc while my hands are otherwise occupied. It has even managed to annoy the cats.

This fly, people, has got to go DOWN.



Really? you ask.
Is this all you've got? you wonder.



Well,

I could tell you how I have roamed the house today arguing with emotions while the laundry was folded. Or I could mention the fact that I became one of THOSE people who pump gas in their pajama pants.

But then, that might make you rethink my opening remarks.

Maybe it's not the FLY making me insane.

Maybe it's life at the moment.


Nah.

It's the fly.






Absolutely.

Summer Plans

For some strange reason known only to God Himself, I was up early today.

No alarm.
No where to be.

Wide awake.

I entertained myself by watching mindless television (are there really any fans of The View out there?), attempted to remove the acrylic from my nails (no amount of YouTube videos can help with this one), and cleaned our bathroom with straight-out bleach (no sense saving the nails at that point). I have sang karaoke to the cats, fishtail-braided my hair, and made a run to the post office that conveniently passed by a Starbucks.

Thus begins my summer vacation.

Last year summer was all about my dad. What I would give to be making that long drive back to spend just one more month of June with him. I would stay longer and worry less. I would watch NASCAR and westerns and let him try to explain C-Span to me just one more time.

And yet here we are in a different year. Time certainly does march forward. This summer I will say good-bye to the middle and launch the youngest on her final high school year. I will welcome visits with the oldest while the husband and I learn to live with what is becoming an increasingly empty house.

I will clean out bedrooms.
I will conquer Windows 8.
I will take back the front porch.

And you better believe, I will be sleeping late.

It's how I do summer.

I Will Not Go Quietly. Will You?

My focus should be on creating exams and writing papers and possibly (just possibly) folding the clothes in the basket of clean laundry that sits beside me. I could run the dishwasher or go for a walk or (slight gasp) actually read a book non-school related.

Bake a cake.
Call my mom.

Finish that scrapbook from 2012.

Instead of the many, many things that I could be doing, I find my mind wandering between World War II questions and the current world situation. I eat a bowl of cereal and think about our boy and instantly feel sick. My emotions have run amok.

This boy of ours. About to join the ranks of those defending our freedom. Adamant that he wants no big to-do about his departure. Willing to quietly slip away and conquer a dream he's had for quite some time.

While his mother, on the other hand, wants to scream from the rooftops just to see if anyone's listening. Wants to grab the local idiot and shake them by the neck and say,

This life is not about you.

Running your mouth screaming freedom of speech.
    Destroying property claiming freedom of expression.
        Taking God out of my country citing freedom of religion.

All while we idly stand by and overdose on reality television.

I have no time for celebrity foolishness or talk show opinions. I don't share political propaganda via social media. I am by no means perfect, but may heaven help me if I bury my head in the sand.

The words of Dwight D. Eisenhower ring loudly in my ears. Speaking to those soldiers who were about to embark on the greatest military invasion the world has ever known, he said (in part*),

Your task will not be an easy one.

 Your enemy is well trained, well equipped, and battle-hardened.

 He will fight savagely.

I have full confidence in your courage,

 devotion to duty, and skill in battle. 

We will accept nothing less than full victory. 

Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God

 upon this great and noble undertaking. 

I cannot help but reflect on how those words still ring true today. June 6, 1944, may be well behind us, but the battle is ever before us. Let us not wait until Memorial Day or Independence Day or Veteran's Day to support a country, a flag, a cause for which much blood was shed.

Vietnam Wall. Photo by me. Sacrifice by many.

I am tired of making excuses, tired of worrying whom I might offend, and tired of the media giving valuable air time to fools making a mockery of their freedom.

Period.



*You can read or listen to Eisenhower's full speech HERE.

Sleep On That

So I can tell it's going to be one of those nights. A night if I don't talk, I won't sleep, and by talking... I mean writing. It is, after all, how we non-talkative people survive, We want to talk when there's no one around to hear us talk or maybe, just maybe, we use that as an excuse because we really don't want to run the risk of someone actually talking back.

Yes. I am exhausting myself.

I am drowning in a sea of negativity.
Overwhelmed by constant whining.
And totally taken under by complaining.

Grown-ups can be so annoying.

What ever happened to finishing well? Doing our best? Putting others before ourselves? I'm reminded of a song I use to sing with a 4th - 6th grade class: JOY.

Jesus and
Others and
You.

When will we ever learn that when we put ourselves first, it is always going to fall short. I don't know how to put this mildly... it rather stinks. There's a stench in the air when we try to take center stage. Period. The last time I checked, it wasn't suppose to be about us.

I know, I know. This particular post probably has its own stench about it. My mind has just been flooded the last few days. Flooded with memories. Flooded with reminders. Flooded with lessons learned when I forgot that it wasn't all about me. I despise seeing others struggle with the same thing, especially when they don't even recognize struggle.

ADULTS, haughty with their nose in the air, convinced that there is no authority over them. KIDS, indignant to authority because they are imitating those same adults in their life.

Rebellion runs rampant and the good people of the world shake their head and wonder why (slight hint of sarcasm there). As a wise man once said, "When kids are out of control, they are in control." That statement ought to stop a few of us in our tracks.

I was reminded today of a couple of scriptures:

As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. Proverbs 27:17.
As water reflects the face, so one's life reflects the heart. Proverbs 27:19.
One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin. Proverbs 18:24.

I could keep going. Proverbs, after all, has a lot going on. I suppose my point- scratch that- HIS point has been made. We need to be careful. Our actions matter. CHARACTER MATTERS. Nobody buys your baloney when the stink from the rind runs them off.

Or something like that.

Finish WELL, people. Put Jesus first. Imitate HIM. Put others second. SERVE them. Put yourself last...

And bask in the gratefulness.

God is good.

I am thankful for Him, my family, my country, my friends, and my job.

I pray the lessons I have learned, I will never forget.




Now, I can sleep.

Growing Pains That Feel Good

Typically I would bemoan the fact that my kids are growing up... you know, the "I'm so proud of them, but where have my babies gone" song. Trust me, I know that one well. Today, however, I found myself singing a different kind of tune.

The kind that lowered our phone bill.

A month or so ago (I do tend to get a little behind on these things), the middle proudly made his own cell phone purchase with his own cell phone plan. "I've got this, Mom," he said. Indeed, he did. When I made the customer service call today to officially drop his line from our family plan, the nice lady asked me why I was cancelling that particular service. I simply said, "My boy is moving on and taking care of it himself."

What a grand feeling.

In addition to that happiness at the end of the rainbow, the oldest told me recently that I can drop him from our insurance because, to paraphrase and echo the words of his brother, "I've got this, Mom."

It really doesn't take much to make me smile.