Monthly Archives: December 2009

My First Race

Today is the day.  Back in the summer of 2007, when I started walking every day, I swore I would never be a runner.  About two months through summer and Labor Day rolled around and I started running.

I laugh because at first it was running to the  next mailbox then walking a bit.  Then, I would find two or three mailboxes in a row and run between them.  Then, more walking.

Today I will run a race.  Even when I decided I liked running, I would laugh at people who would ask, “why don’t you sign up for this or that?”  I would gently explain the running was health thing.  I did it for me, alone.  I even went so far as to tell a friend I was running away from all the diseases my parents and heredity were trying to give me.

Today, that will change.  I am set to run the It’s a Wonderful Run 5K in Seneca Falls.  It is going to be cold so it is good that it is only a bit over 3 miles.  It is going to in the evening so it is good I have some reflective items.

Today, I will join the camaraderie of running from somewhere other than the side of the road.  Today, I will run a race.  Today, I will aim to finish – as most first timers aim to do.  Today, I will aim for a number but will not tell anyone what that number is.  Today, I will run!


Pleasure

This entry is where my entry this morning/afternoon was suppose to go.  Unfortunately, I was not lubricated enough to discuss pleasure this morning.  I am now downing my third beer and am getting much happier and a bit more risqué in my thinking/writing.

After reading “Men’s Junk” at Momalom.com, I got to thinking about pleasure, about why we want it and why we avoid it.  I know an entry about penises got me thinking like that.  So, let’s think about that.

Pleasure, especially sexual pleasure, is something that we should all enjoy.  While we may want to wait until we are married or in a committed relationship, we should all look for pleasure in our lives.  Whether the pleasure comes from sex or from talking or from intellectual pursuits, we need it in our lives.

Yet, so many of us let pleasure have a back seat.  We do not think it is necessary.  Let’s take pleasure in the form or intellectual pursuits as an example.  If we derive pleasure in this way, why would we not continually pursue education?  Why would we not think that life long learning is a necessity?
If we look at it, as the author of “Men’s Junk” did, from a sexual angle, just think of those of us who do not like sex.  Sometimes there are psychological reasons for this that are totally understandable.  My guess is that there are equally as many people who do not enjoy sex for other reasons:  their parents made them think it was dirty; they can only think of their penis or vagina in terms of functionality, not sexual pleasure; or other reasons.

I want to focus in on why we deny ourselves and our significant others sexual pleasure.  Do we all really believe that sex is dirty?  Come on!  You may need a shower afterwards but not because you are dirty but because you are so damn hot.  Sexual needs are real and need to be satisfied.

To that end, how can anyone believe that their significant other’s sexual organ – whether a penis or a vagina – is not to be touched, is not to be enjoyed by both parties?  There is no reason to deny pleasure to your partner.  Trust me, in the end, your partner will reward you with pleasure in return.


Christmas Years Ago

It was years ago – many but not so many she does not recall the feelings of shame and embarrassment.  This time of year she usually can push these memories out of her mind but for some reason, this year she cannot.

She had still not found a full time job other than working at the local shipping store.  She was making minimum wage but it was not enough with six kids to feed and all their needs.  Kids under 13 tend to outgrow things all the time.  To keep them in jeans and shoes, boots and winter coats was difficult.

On top of that, she did not feel like she could turn down hours at work and so she was paying for babysitting at night while she worked as late as the store needed her.  The kids needed her, too, but at this point in time, money was important.  He never took the kids that first year or two.  Even after that, he seldom took them all at once.  She never had down time, just work or mom time.

The day care owner approached her that day with an odd look on her face.  They knew each other outside of the day care setting as they also went to the same church.  She wanted to have the ladies’ group at church adopt her family for Christmas.  “Here is what was needed,” the provider explained.

“Could she think this over,” she asked the provider.  She did not want to appear to be looking a gift horse in the mouth but she just didn’t like taking hand outs.  That spring had sealed it for her.  She had gone to DSS to apply for food stamps.  The hardest question was about the car.  Yes, a car that was not in her name but in his.  Yes, a car that she drove still but could not sell and that was what they were asking her to do.  They thought she should sell the car to feed her kids.  Well, if it came to that, she would find a way but then, how would she get to work?

“Isn’t that counterproductive,” she asked the case worker.  Evidently not as the case worker ignored her question.  The case worker just spoke of that as a male power trip.  The appointment was embarrassing in itself.  She would get through it, though, for the kids.  Eventually, she managed to get a second appointment and some emergency aid.  This helped as the job she had at that time was not even full time.

The summer wore into fall and then winter.  The job went from 10 hours a week to 30 to 45.  She and the kids had moved twice due to rent being too much.  She really liked this newest place and hoped the kids did also.  The food stamps, which really helped as she could buy food that was good for the kids – fresh fruits, fresh veggies and something other than frozen meats.  Christmas was coming as Thanksgiving had just passed.

Then came the request from the day care provider.  Could she endure more embarrassment so that the kids would have a good holiday?  Could she put her pride aside one more time?  How could she say no?  How could she say yes?

She slowly decided that she had no choice.  What she was making, even working 45 to 50 hours a week, all went to utilities, rent, insurance.  She didn’t have a penny left for gifts.  She really wanted to send out Christmas cards, to make everyone think this was fine.  She couldn’t do that either.

She talked longer with the day care provider.  She took a list home with her.  She needed to get clothing sizes and a toy want from each child.  She needed to list something she would want.

When the call came that it was all at the day care provider’s home to pick up, she didn’t know what to do.  The suggestion was to come to the back door.  Her husband would help load the car so she could take the church gifts home and hide them before coming back to pick up the kids.  A solid plan except when she got to the day care provider’s, there was not enough room for all the gifts in her car.  It didn’t matter.  She was crying so hard she probably shouldn’t drive right away anyhow.

The day care provider rethought what was going to happen.  She put the kids in her client’s car and told her to call when they were asleep that night.  Her husband would drive the gifts over to the house.

The gifts were wonderful.  The kids all received a book, a toy, a new outfit.  She even received some clothing, a nightgown.  The surprise was all the day in, day out household supplies that came with the gifts.  There was food.  There was a gift certificate for a local grocery.  There was cleaning supplies, laundry detergent.

Christmas that year had been saved from the clutches of defeat, her defeat of feeling she couldn’t do it.  Christmas had come despite her lacking, or so she thought.


Sleep!

I admit it.  I like sleep.  I like getting in between my flannel sheets and cuddling down into my mattress and sleeping.  I like it for any of a number of reasons.

Sleep is restorative.  When you have had one of “those days,” it is helpful to take a good book and/or a mug of herbal tea to your bed and rest.

And here is my big admission for the day – I am still marveling at that word admission ever since I read the book Admission and realized it has two meanings – letting in and letting out as in this admission I am about to make.  I crawled between the flannel sheets last night at 7 pm.

No, there was no one else in the bed with me.  I was not crawling in for a night of debauchery or drunkenness, as many of my blogging friends have tried to do this week. I was exhausted.  I read and watched some mindless television from 7 to 8 pm and at 8:15 pm asked #6 to come into my room, make sure I had my alarm set for 6 am and turn out the light – sneaky I know, but that way I didn’t have to get out of the warmth of the flannel.

I woke up, totally without the alarm’s aid, at 5:30 am this morning.  I stayed in the warmth of my bed until 5:45 but that nine hours of sleep has put me in a great mood today.  Yes, I should have been doing holiday “stuff” last night.  No, I have not yet decorated for the holidays.  No, I have not sent out my Christmas card.  I don’t care!  I was tired.  I slept.

I leave you with these two thoughts below.  Neither are mine but both are important.

Giving your body and mind a break

For 16 hours a day, you drive your body hard. You put pressure on joints for hours on end, you expose it to who knows what kinds of germs and bacteria, you put it under major strain and stress, you demand everything it can do and some things that it can’t. Let your body have the other 8 hours to itself. It’s earned it. After a long day, your body needs to heal and recover. Let your muscles and joints take a break. Your immune system needs strengthened and cannot always be stretched to its limits. Your body has a way of letting you know when it’s not getting the rest it needs–it wears down and feels fatigued. And eventually it breaks down. So do everything you can to pay your body back by getting a good dose of sleep. It will love you for it.

A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor’s book.

- Irish Proverb

So, get a good night’s rest tonight!


This and That

I have to tell you that I have had so many entry ideas running around inside my head I have been paralyzed.  I have been unable to get any of them out.  These wonderful inspirations are coming from the Half Drunk Challenge that Momalom.com has put out and continues for the next two days.  So, with the little time I have left in today – yes, I realize it is just barely noon but I still have to run and then back to Oneonta for a swim/dive meet, I am going to put some thoughts out there.  And, I am going to start with a reaction or two that came flitting into my mind when I read “Men’s Junk.”

I am going to preface my thoughts with this statement.  I am going to talk about penises because the original post did.  I am going to talk about penises because that is what I know best in this context.  I have to presume that there are lesbians out there that feel the same way about vaginas as some women do about penises but for me, this is going to be about penises – sort of and mostly.

As I was reading the original author’s thoughts, I got to thinking about parenting and penises.  Yes, I know that usually a woman needs a penis to get pregnant and become a parent but that is not quite where I am going.

As children grow up, a lot of their values and later thoughts are formed.  Are we doing these children any service by teaching them to call penises and vaginas by “pet names,” regardless of how cute these names may sound when a two year old blurts them out at the mall Santa or when it is quiet in church.

A lot of the disdain and general lack of support by women for penises comes from what they learned as a child.  If your mother always referred to your penis by some strange name or something that may indicate it is only for urinating – I cannot tell you the number of women I hear calling, even to other adults, their sons’ penis “wee wee,” chances are you are not going to want to become friends with your husband/boyfriend/lover/significant other’s penis.

When children are old enough to say the words vagina and penis, parents should encourage the proper terminology.  Parents should also make sure that children know that these organs have many reasons for being.

Let’s take this story which comes courtesy of #1 when he was not quite two.  I was rather largely pregnant with twins as #1′s second birthday approached.  He was two so there was not, in my mind, any reason to correct him when he said there were babies growing in my stomach/tummy.  For the most part, and as far as a two year old is concerned, that is where the babies were.  Actually for the 25 year old me, it was hard to believe my uterus could expand as much as it was for the twins so how could I expect a two year old male to get it.

Then came the morning I was sitting home on disability and having a cup of tea.  It was a morning that #1 was not at preschool as he was young and only went two days a week.  Being the good pregnant woman, I was having herbal tea – a habit I continue to this day.  #1 came over and started batting at my cup and telling me to stop.  I got up out of the chair and put the cup on the kitchen counter where #1 could not reach it.  I called to him and explained I had put my tea down but he should not bat at hot liquids – always a teachable moment.  He said, “Mommy canNOT drink hot tea.  It will burn the babies in her tummy.”

I was stunned.  The teachable moment was not about the hot liquid burning him if he caused me to spill the tea.  The teachable moment was going to be female anatomy.  I sat him on what was left of my lap and started in.  In the end, I settled for mommies have compartments and babies are not in the same one that hot tea goes to.  It was the best I had for a two year old.  I didn’t think uterus was necessary but I did tell him, at the end of the talk, that it was called a uterus.  Thankfully, this was not what he screamed out in church that weekend.

So parents, take note.  You form the way your children will look at sex of all kinds and how they will look at reproductive organs at a very young age.

Next – and heaven help you all as I think this is going to be a long one, let’s look at the adult point of view.  I happen to like sex.  I have always liked sex.  I am not sure that the person who wrote “Men’s Junk” does but maybe.  Hard to tell.  I like the pleasure and the release that comes through sex.  I also love the children that I have and they come through sex, too.

I have to be honest.  I like penises, at least most of them that I have met.  I am not afraid, whether at a fancy restaurant for a tete a tete or in the bedroom, to run my hand over a man’s thigh – providing that is where our relationship is – or even over his penis.  I know what turns a man on and am not afraid to discuss it with my children.  They do get a little queasy when mom discusses these things but we have had the discussions – from trust to sex to how to put on condoms to love.

I have explained to my children that a relationship needs to be two-way, sort of like those radios they wanted as kids.  It does no good if one person in the relationship isn’t really in it.  You need to talk about all kinds of things, including what give you and your SO pleasure.  If you do not discuss these things, how are you to know?  We are all so different individually that just thinking you know what will pleasure someone else is not good enough.

There are some ways, other than talking, that might help you find these pleasure areas.  If there is a great deal of trust in the relationship, it is possible you can “feel your way” around what will give your SO pleasure.  Sometimes, this exploration is fun but if you accidentally do something not so pleasurable, this can also be a problem.

Anyway, the long and the short – no pun intended as far as the penises go – remains that communication is tops for any kind of relationship:  man/woman, man/man, woman/man, parent/child,etc.  You have to talk.  You have to trust.  You have to explore.  All of these are forms of communication that are so  necessary.  And just remember, as a parent, there are tons of teachable moments so teach your child/children that the body is a beautiful thing and meant to be enjoyed.


First Real Snow

So we had a bit of snow in October.  I freaked out a bit on that as I was heading to Fishkill the morning that it fell.  I am not a big drive in the snow fan.

Then, we got some true accumulation Tuesday into Wednesday which, of course, freaked me out again as Wednesday was a trip to Oneonta that could not be postponed.  In that light, you all get to see what Oneonta looks like and what SUNY-Oneonta looks like in the snow.


Condiments and Sandwiches in the DVD

Salt in the DVD player?  I was laughing as I read Aidan’s tweet over Steve’s shoulder.  You see, I am writing half-drunk blog entries out longhand while awaiting my turn on a computer somewhere in my house.

All I could think was salt in the DVD player has to be easier to deal with than peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the VCR.  Salt in the DVD has to be easier to clean out than getting the technician, in 1985 – when VCR technology was still fairly new, to remove a Matchbox car from the VCR.

And while I am on some of my pet peeves, why does Barbie have high heel feet?  She has the “perfect” figure so shouldn’t she get flat feet.  At least if she had flat feet like my Skipper doll did, stepping on those damn shoes in the middle of the night, while retrieving #5 or #6 for feedings, would not have hurt nearly as much!


From #5

For all of us who are drinking and blogging…


#5 AGAIN

Almost as if he has been reading my blog, I just received a text from #5.  Just to refresh everyone’s memory – mine included – #5 just turned 19 in October and goes to a state university that is a dry campus.  Also to refresh your memories, this week is the week of the half drunk challenge.  And, just to put your minds at ease, NO I am not drunk or drinking – other than ginger and lemon tea – at 8:45 am.

Anyhow, the text message from #5 – whom I will see on Wednesday as I am traveling to Oneonta with a good friend who has an interview at the other college in town – was could you please bring me a bottle of red wine when you come.

A bit of background here.  I have never allowed – when I was awake – my underaged children to drink in my house.  I do not  condone underage drinking.  I am, though, a realist and know that my kids do drink, not the 15 year old yet but the other five.  I am also a realist in that I know #5 will get the bottle of wine from someone else if I decide to not take it with me.

My older children, numbers 1 through 4, have accused me of getting soft.  I have allowed #6 to do things that I would have let #1 do when he was this age.  I have not yelled and screamed at #5 about bringing alcohol into the house – though I have made him dump out alcohol I have found.  What my older children do not realize is I am not getting soft, I am just plain tired.  I am tired of being the one to be on booze patrol.  I am tired of being the “bitch” mom that no one wants around.  I am tired of trying to parent – though I know I still have decades of parenting ahead of me.  I want to take a break.  I almost feel like I deserve a break.

So, now back to #5.  Do I take him a bottle of red wine?  Do I ignore the fact that campus is a dry campus?  Do I ignore the fact that he is not legally able to drink?

What say you all?


Winter

Winter has finally started to rear what some may call its ugly head in upstate New York.  Yes, we had a small taste in October but that was followed by mild weather so did not stay with us long at all.

Today, I am hearing and seeing winter, along with feeling it in the cold that is out there.  The sand truck just came down the hill where I live at the bottom.  You may wonder how I know.  It is because the truck turns onto my road and either backs into my driveway or backs through the intersection so as to go up the hill next.  The back up noises have woken me up many mornings.

Then, there is the look.  I just came back inside.  As I was pouring a cup of coffee, I glanced out the kitchen window which points east.  The colors, though faint, in the sky made me run for my wool socks, boots, winter jacket, hat and gloves … and my digital camera, of course.  Out in the 24F weather I went to snap shots.  Below is what it looks like in my neighborhood today.


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