Who's the Boss

It's May the what? It's hard to believe, but my big girl is graduating from Kindergarten already in just a few short weeks. I've included a link of her Kindergarten school news station debut. Kids. I think they exist to amaze and challenge us everyday. They remind us of where we came from and how we should look at things. For Mother's day Abby made me a wonderful book at school about all my favorite things... my favorite color (green), my favorite food (sushi)... and my favorite thing to do when I have time to myself.... "kill the gophers." Huh? Where did that come from? I guess I do spend a lot of time trying to rid my garden of pesky gophers. It's hilarious how children perceive the world.

As I sit here, waiting patiently and longingly for the AC repair man to save me from this torrid weather, I scream quietly inside. He tells me when he's coming (somewhere between 3:00 pm and whenever he feels like it), and I sit. I sit. And I sit waiting. I can't make him come any faster and if I get mad at him, he may decide to not show at all. And then who's laughing? I am totally and completely at his mercy. Who exactly is in charge here? I'm a paying customer, right? But who's the one sitting at home with no AC. I left my job to be at home with the kids and decided that I didn't want to work for someone else anymore. I had had enough of dictatorial supervisors and office politics. I want to be my own boss, I said. Except, I'm not really the boss. I still have to answer to my clients. They're the ones that have the money and can tell me they do or don't like my work. So, I ask myself, who's really in charge? CEO's still answer to the board, adults answer to their spouses or to their children (sometimes), and the fate of my comfort lies in the hands of an AC repair man. It's this vicious race we are bound to run in as humans. We run and run trying to lead the pack to find that we are all really just running in one big circle with no finish line. Why don't we all just stop running? Then we could just get fat and sit in one big happy circle - just a thought I had while I was in the carpool lane this afternoon.

When I grow older losing my hair, many years from now...

That's a song I used to love in my youth. It's fun to sing songs about growing old when you're young. Not so fun now that I'm growing older. Also not fun is realizing that your jokes are not translating the way you want to the younger, hipper crowd. (Also not hip: using vocabulary like "hip.") For example, I decided recently that I wanted to resurrect some one-liners from television and movies that I thought were great during their heyday. One such quote is, "Have mercy." Perhaps I don't have John Stamos' delivery, but I just don't seem to be getting the gut-busting, side-splitting response that I had anticipated. Another sign of my progressing age: I go to neighborhood watch meetings and plot to catch loitering cars parked with teenagers in them. I hang out with 50 year-olds in my classes and talk about horticulture. The other day I said to my husband, "I could spend all day at the [plant] nursery." I love to go on and on about all the cool options my minivan has. Yesterday I had fun reminiscing with a man I was sitting next to about 8-tracks, and the funny thing is that I was born in the cassette tape era. My idea of luxury is hanging out at a Korean bath house and getting my butt scrubbed. Lately, I have, more often than not, looked around and found myself in a room or venue full of old Jewish people. Who am I?

I made a pact with myself starting this past year that I would embrace every year as I'm living it. I will not long for the past nor will I dread the future. Even when my kids go around bragging that their parents are the most weird and uncool adults on earth, I hereby promise not to: wear ultra mini-skirts (unless my husband requests me to wear them), shop at Forever 21 (or any other store that contains greater than 50% Lycra), text incessantly in secret languages for no apparent reason, pimp my ride to get attention at preschool drop-off/pick-up, borrow from my daughters' wardrobes (unless it looks better on me than them), and take a knife or needle to my face or body. Check back in with me in another decade or so and see how I'm doing with these. And feel free to remind me anytime you see me backsliding. Just a gentle tug on the back of my Lycra/spandex/viscose miniskirt will do.

Manic Monday

It's Monday again. Dread. I have so much homework again. Why does school always look so appealing when you're not in school? I took a class last semester that was so frustrating because the instructor wasn't good at teaching and didn't assign homework, so 80% of the class was lost all the time. In my evaluation at the end of the semester, I actually told the prof. to assign more homework, because almost every class was wasted having to repeatedly go over things a few of us already understood. Oh well, if he did take my advice, at least I'm not taking that class this year. So, this is my last semester of my program. I'm excited. Not only do I feel great about successfully completing the program, I have a lot to look forward to. I have a few projects lined up already and am getting validation from my peers and instructors that I have what it takes. I'm really nervous because I'm working on a friend's house right now and the installation is happening at this moment. I have a clear picture in my head of what I want it to look like, but I'm not sure how it will look in the end: did I choose the right plant material; are the plants I specified the correct size; will the hardscape be laid properly and complement the natural look I'm trying to achieve; will the flow of the yard be smooth and not awkward; and will the homeowners be able to enjoy the space and fully utilize it as I intended. There's just too much think about.

I had a hard week, partly because I had so much going on. I was trying to pack it all in and maximize all my time, and as a result I wound up neglecting the things that were important to me; the things that really matter: my family. I'm always making choices that at time seem to be good, but in the larger scheme of things, affect others. Almost all my decisions affect my family, even the mundane ones. Even the decision about whether to go to the market today will affect the quality of meals they consume for the rest of the week. My decision about whether I should pursue my career soon will affect schedules and inconvenience everyone.

In life, there is a balance. Even if we're not conscience of that balance, we feel it all the time. When our hormones are not in balance, we are emotional or irrational. When our schedules are not in balance, we feel out of control. When our quotient of give and take is not level, we feel drained or guilty. When our relationships are not balanced, people get disappointed and hurt. And when we are not in God's word, we find the temptation to sin far outweighs the will to do what is right. When I lack balance, I find myself easily tipping over.

In recent years I have found solstice in bonding with other Christian married women with children. Sometimes these women are the only people I know who understand all the pressing concerns that come with raising little developing brains and personalities. And I've gotten back in touch with the life I once had as a citizen of the work force. Finding my strengths in the work world I think has helped me be a better wife, because I am more at peace with my life and because I am able to reconnect with my husband in an area of our lives that was becoming more divergent. As a woman and a type-A personality, I want it all. I want to be a good mom and wife and landscape designer and church member and friend and pupil and daughter and sister and neice and whatever other roles I must fill. I must not disappoint anyone. But sometimes I feel like I'm disappointing everyone, especially the ones I care about most, because of my selfish desire to not want to disappoint anyone. How does this happen? This is yet another area of my life in which I need balance.

Life is hard. Have I said that before? Even when you have it as good as I have, it's still hard. I'm not saying my life is nearly as hard as the impoverished children in Africa. I am certainly blessed with more than I ever deserve. Life just seems far more complex than I ever wanted it to be. It's like my faith. I used to just love God like a child - simple and innocent. The more I study His word, the more unanswered questions I have and the more I feel agony for my sin. I do love Him more deeply because I understand His grace more and more, but it's not just a nice, love-dovey, one-dimensional, God-in-heaven type of feeling anymore. There's blood that had to be shed, there's disobedience, there's suffering. What pulls me up in the end? Knowing that God is the author and perfector of everything. Even my suffering and sin has an end - for His good purpose and His glory, so that we may enjoy Him forever. I endure it all for Him.

Officially becoming an adult

I consider myself an adult because I have:

1. learned to set goals for myself and at least make a plan to achieve them.
2. more often tried to choose what's good for me over what I really want. And sometimes these choices have become more automatic.
3. had a relationship with someone of the opposite sex for more than a year and not killed him (yet).
4. planned a trip from start to finish and included all the essentials (I'm getting good at this one).
5. stopped getting carded by the grocery store checkout guy (even though it says they have to ask EVERYONE that looks under 36 or 37).
6. fallen out of MTV's target age group. All of a sudden in the past few years, MTV has become progressively more stupid to me.
7. developed a severe distrust and fear of teenagers.
8. made Costco my first place to shop. If Costco had a wedding registry when we were getting married, you know I'd be all over that.
9. stopped needing to get somewhere or do something ALL the time.
10. learned to savor the good things in life: such as time with those you love and time without those you love.
11. lost the desire to listen to loud music, drink excessively, and ride life-threatening roller coasters.
12. had a live baby come out of me (twice) and given all that is within me to raise them.
13. taught a child something useful.

And finally, I can now say that I've planned and executed 2 semi-formal dinner parties, one of which I planned the menu and prepared the food for as well. After 7 years of marriage, I pulled out flatware and dinnerware that I didn't think I'd ever see again. And all of a sudden I felt so different, as if all my childhood tea parties and pretend banquets had been preparing me for this moment. I know I'm already an adult, but suddenly I feel more official. I feel as if I've entered a new stage of adulthood... "formal (dinner party) adulthood."

Men are from Mars

Some of the ladies and I were talking about doing something for our husbands. Something nice. What do men want? When men think about presents for their wives, they automatically go to gadgets and electronics, things they themselves would appreciate. And when women try to find the perfect gift for their man, they think of things like massages at a spa and a nice dinner. I guess it's all part of our inability to put ourselves in the other sex's shoes. So, some of the ladies suggested a spa day for our men. What did the men come up with instead? A trip to the shooting range followed by a satisfying steak dinner. Could men and women be any more different?

Celebrity sighting

So we had our first sighting today - I mean that a random stranger recognized us while we were out and asked us if we were the couple on reDesign. It caught me off guard at first. I didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or proud. My friend Julie was there at the time and she got me thinking. She seems to think there are tons of other people out there that will recognize us, but not say anything. This thought has started to get me really self conscious. All of a sudden I see people staring at me and can't help but wonder what they're thinking and what they'll say behind our backs: "Oh snap. I saw that girl from last week's reDesign episode picking her nose." or "That guy from that show we saw is really obnoxious. He wouldn't even give us an autograph. Jerk." Will stardom change us? I hope not. Joe seems to think that it's not a big deal and that not many people really watch the show. Oh well, whatever the case, I guess I'm going to have to watch myself in public and not be so vulgar or lewd anymore.