Spa-ctacular

In light of a recent exciting judgement that has Facebook lit up with both rainbow flags and bibles, I have decided to write about something completely different.   I will not be adding judgement to judgement because you have seen my recent likes (#lovewins) and I have seen yours and we know where we stand. Rather, I thought we could all stand to hear about my day at the spa.  I may not have said more than twenty words all day while I was there, but boy was I thinking them!

My loving husband and children gave me a spa package at Lake Austin Spa for Mother's Day and I got the chance to use it this past weekend.  Luxury, right?  Yes.  But don't be jealous: you will get to retire one day and I will work until I die.  Seriously, you will be tan and fit from your retired lifestyle and I will be stooped over and inside my orthopedic shoes eight hours a day as I welcome people into Walmart.  Anyway, this was a very nice chance to be away, to be waited on and to just be quiet for a day.  Plus I got to wear a robe all day and use as many glasses and towels as I wanted!  This was truly luxury at its finest.

I was given a brief tour, handed my sandals and robe and left on my own to figure out what I was going to do.  I changed and headed up for my massage.  Just typing about it makes my shoulders relax.  There have been times I have gone for a massage and had a lot of trouble getting my brain to turn off.  It would pepper me with ridiculous thoughts or questions, things like "Is that my stomach?" or "Is she going to be a talker?  Please don't let her be a talker!" and "Did I turn the curling iron off??" and it would take me forty minutes to settle down and then the massage was almost over.  However, this time I told my brain ahead of time not to ruin it and the masseuse started with some deep yoga like breathing that made me initially want to giggle, but turned very soothing.  It was hypnotic and calming and, in turn, I was very calm.  I think at one point she had both elbows and maybe a knee in my shoulder at once but that was okay; it felt great.  There wasn't a kink left in any of my upper back.  I left there a little light headed and chill and headed down to my healthy lunch.

I will say it was a little weird to be eating alone, especially when lately the only eating I do alone is stealth chocolate eating as quickly and quietly as possible.  Also, it felt weird to have someone wait on me while I was wearing a bathrobe.  However, the food was great and healthy and I just listened in on all the conversations around me.  It was here that I noticed that everyone seemed to be here with a friend or a group.  I was really enjoying this being alone and being quiet and didn't feel bad being on my own.  I noticed another woman alone and as the day progressed and our paths continued to cross I realized quickly that while I was alone because I wanted to be alone, she was alone because she was a bitch.  She was rude to the staff, impatient in the Blue Room, critical of lunch and I heard her disparaging the towels.  The towels.  The white loops of heaven that were knitted from clouds and angel tears and in every corner, folded and ready for you to take a new one.  I could understand if she was disparaging of the threadbare, indiscriminately colored, slightly summer camp smelling towels we use at home, but here?  That is just one very unhappy woman.

Heaven: folded and stacked.

I had time before my next appointment and headed down to the pool.  There I sat and read a book without having to look up and count heads.  Bliss!  When it began to rain, I moved into the cabana.  When I got bored of the cabana, I moved back inside and thought I would use the hot tub.  The hot tub, sauna, steam room area is a clothing optional area and I'll admit, I thought about it.  However, I also thought about the glee the staff had in their voice when they said it was clothing optional and I just know that they are secretly filming and mocking every naked person in there.  I did not want to end up mocked at their Christmas party this year, so I left my bathing suit on.  Just as I turned to hang up my robe, a very naked woman slipped herself into the hot tub.  AHHHH!  A flurry of thoughts assaulted me quickly such as "What do I do now?" "Do I go in?"  "Do I not go in?"  "I really don't like saunas."  "Why is she even here?"  "This is my day!".  I decided to go in and walked in slowly keeping my eyes fixed on a point high above the windows and nowhere in her general area, the same way you would during a PAP smear.  The minute I sat down, and again it was nowhere near her and at no point did I sneak a look at anything, she harrumphed and boosted herself out of the pool.  That was nothing I ever, ever need to see again and I assure you, I will use a ladder every time I get out of a body of water going forward.  Shudder. 

Finally it was time for my last even of the day, the facial.  I think that the facial lady hated me instantly.  I felt her judgement as she looked at my skin and heard it as she mentioned my spotting.  I laid there with my eyes closed and listened to how she was going to have to use Vitamin C to do something about the spotting.  Yes, yes, I am a speckled as an egg, get on with the warm towels.  For the record, I know.  I am not sure why I am spotting all over my face in weird spots and I am using things to correct it.  I also choose not to look too closely; this is the same trick I use between threadings when I am rocking a unibrow.  The lecture was over and the warm towels began.  Ahh, relaxing contentment up until she started extractions which is a big word meaning pimple popping.  Yes, I can grow pimples and wrinkles at the same time, I am that talented!  I had my eyes closed but given the amount of pressure she was exerting I am pretty sure she had both elbows and one knee involved as she went about her business.  I then let this crazy woman at my face with a needle to extract some millia on my forehead.  Millia are apparently prehistoric pimples I have been growing since my teen years that never surfaced.  It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good either.  She said I would have two red dots on my forehead while they healed.  She did not say it would look like a cobra bit me in my sleep.  She may have been disdainful of my skin, but she did a great job and my face was smooth and crazy young looking when she was done.  She handed me a list of what she used and pointed me to the gift shop and I thanked her and tossed the list out.  You know that if I can't get it at Target, I am not going to get it.

Sadly it was now time to go.  No more alone time, no more Blue Room with its squishy chairs that made reading perfect, time to go home.  I dressed back in my street clothes and left my robe and sandals in a neat pile.  I drank one more glass of water because it was minty and there and brought my number of cups used in one day to at least fifteen.  Plus one mug.  And forty-two of the most beautiful towels you have ever seen.  It'll be the memory of those towels that get me through my days as a Walmart greeter.  

Teach Your Children

I have a confession to make.  It is now the second week of summer vacation and my children have yet to do any math.  I know!  I should definitely have my mom card taken away.  I am failing them, especially because neither one enjoys math nor do they do exceptionally well at it.  

Why am I setting them up for such failure?  I guess because it is summer and I spend the school year harassing and haranguing them about math, reading, and getting out of bed.  I plan their logistics, organize their lives and gear and it gets to be wearing on us all.  I'll get us all from Point A to Point B with everything we need for the day, but there is not a lot of enjoyment in that.  I need, we need, this summer to just enjoy ourselves; to remember how to enjoy being together.  These kids of mine are getting big awfully fast and I just want to slow down a little and see them, really see them.

I forgot how happy SG is when she wakes up on her own time.  How much patience she has for her brother and how much sparkle she has when she is not laboring over homework after a long day at school.  Many times she told me how hard she worked in Athletics and while I heard her, I was not always listening.  Attentively anyway.  I was listening with my eyes, ears and heart last week while I watched her keep up with the boys and just whole-heartedly go after the drills at her Strength camp.  My girl, the one who galloped instead of running the first ten years of her life, is an athlete.  They say you can explode with pride but it was more than that for me; I spontaneously combusted with pride.  My plans for her this summer include watching her throw her head back and squeal with laughter, trying weird hair tricks I see on Facebook on her glorious mane of hair and sitting down and listening when she is talking.

The boy and I have had quite a year and we need a summer before he strolls in middle school this fall. I am on him a lot to get this done, or did you do this or good grief WHY is there a colander in the middle of the living room?  We need this time for me to step back and for him to step up and show me what he can do without me telling him to do it.  I watched him at his parkour class today and I got great joy out of watching him and secondly watching him look over each time he did something to see if I was watching.  The boy that has been stiff arming me all year still likes to know I am watching.  Point taken buddy, I'm watching.  My plans for him include seven million games of basketball in the driveway, laughing when his jokes aren't funny and watching him jump into the pool too many times to count.

In addition to actually seeing my kids and enjoying them, I want to teach them important things.  Things like how to cook rice or pasta or how to clean up dog poop, all valuable things to know.  Plus their newfound knowledge could eventually make my life easier, as in "I will be home in 30 minutes, start some rice" or "Mom the dog pooped in the dining room, but don't worry, I already picked it up."  I want to teach them that they should always try something new.  I want them to learn that it is okay to be bored.  I am not threatening them with chores if they say they are bored, but I am not offering to fix it either.  They will figure something out and then they can continue to figure something out as life goes on.  Finally, I want them to really understand that your brother or sister can be more than just your sibling, they can be your friend.  I may need to revisit that one myself.

                                     

 

I am not sure what will happen if we don't do any math or any other school type learning this summer.  I might be condemning them to a lifetime of state schools and a career in public service.  There are worse things in life though and for me one of those worse things would not be just stopping to enjoy them.  Or letting them just be kids: lazy, a little smelly, crazy funny and amazing kids.  

Are We There Yet?

To me it feels like the last few weeks of school are like the last few hours of a road trip home: endless.  You know where you are, you know how much longer it takes to get there and still you are hoping to beat the time/space thing and go faster and get there quicker than you ever have.  However, on this last leg, you are weary, you are tired of everything and everyone and even though you are going as fast as you can, it still seems like it takes forever to get there.

I'm not the only one counting down

I got through the “itises” of April only to be faced with how very long the month of May can be.  Being at school but dreaming about summer makes for some long weeks.  May is busy, crazy, let’s get everything done month and ohmygosh we have to get it all done now!  We need to send $5 here and $10 here and read this email about what happens next Thursday.  I get emails to both home and work, skim them twice and forget about them instantly.  I barely made it onto the Sign-Up Genius in time to get the last easy slot for the end of year party.  Five minutes more and I would have had to bring something other than napkins or water.  The horror!  Exhibition, Welcome to Band, sports banquets, 5^th grade graduation and teacher gifts all this week.  It is like adding a flat tire and a full bladder in the last 20 minutes from home. 

Happily, we are in the home stretch; just finals left at the school here this week and we are down to under 20 kids who still owe a book.  My running around school with my stamper of shame last week paid off!  It really can’t come a minute too soon.  If we were all weary of each other before, we are now down right sick of one another.  Well, at least in our school setting; we still like each other outside of school.  I love the kids who hang out here with us but I need them to stop talking to me.  Right now.  They are getting emotional because they are leaving and I am getting emotional because they won’t stop talking. 

I don’t have much planned for summer but that doesn’t matter, I just want to get there.  I want to sleep in until 6am or maybe even 7!  I want to listen to my own kids talk and not feel beaten down because I have already listened to kids talk all day.  I want to sit by the pool and talk with friends I haven’t seen much since last summer.  I want to take day trips, but no long road trips as I am still recovering from last year’s trip of epic proportions.  I want to not plan lunches until lunch time and please God, no sad salads for lunch all summer long.  I want to exercise a lot and at a decent hour because I can.  I have a stack of books set aside to read and I want to tear into them voraciously and devour each and every one.  I want to force SG to play board games and she will because I have outlawed all screens until after 1pm each day.  I am a mean mom like that.  I want to play 21 in the driveway with the boy but definitely not any of those weird collectable card games he likes.  I just want to be there!

Four more days and we will be there. I can’t wait to say “YES” to the “Are we there yet?” that keeps repeating in my head.   I am not sure any of us are finishing strong but that’s okay because we were strong August through April.  May is for getting ‘er done and this last week in June is like finally reaching your exit on the highway: you’re not quite there but you are so super close that you know you are going to make it.  Hang on summer!  We’re coming!!

The Storm

They followed the others feet through the darkened theater and into the brightly lit hall.  As their eyes adjusted to the light they could see the swarm of people ahead of them.  The air became fetid with nervous breaths, nervous sweat and nervous stomachs.  Every spoken word seemed to add to the already heavy air, heavy mind, and heavy hearts.  Snatches of conversations wormed their way into their ears and they became five years old and soothed with the words of their mother saying that everything was going to be fine, they became fifty and anxious because of texts from home saying scary words like flood, tornado, missing.  They inched their way through the press of bodies and found a spot on the wall.  The carpeted wall offered a modicum of support and they sank their bodies eagerly into the nubs somehow believing that this would keep them upright, this would hold them together, and this would be their safety.  From here they sank slowly to the ground; not because their legs were trembling, rather the lower they got, the safer they felt.  They were small here, inconspicuous, nothing.  They would have stayed there too if not for the tremors.  The crowd’s anxiety was pulled down into the popcorn-littered floor and it served as a conduit passing the fear from person to person.  Desperate for air that was not rank with the fear around them they stood and pushed their way to the front.  It was cooler in the front and the first deep breath of cleaner air wiped the fugue from their brain.  They no longer took the fear of those around them; they cleansed their lungs and their thoughts and knew they would be fine.  They would not die; not here of all places.  They remarked on how if death did occur here they would haunt this place in a most unhappy manner.  Laughter and warmth flowed through them and it carried them up and out and to the door.  

The rain assaulted them with biblical proportions: it fell, it poured, it submerged and drowned.    They were soaked within their first two steps; running through the ankle high water.  Splashing, soaking, drenched and soggy they waded to the car.  The car that was parked so far away they wondered if they had passed it until there it was, suddenly, right in front of them.  Refuge.  Safety. Comfort.  They poured themselves into the car and sat, breathing heavily, wiping the rain from their face in order to see.  Windows fogged as the car purred to a start.  The windshield wipers furiously attacked the rain off of the window as if repulsed and unable to swish it away fast enough.  The lightning lit up the sky in flashes brighter than any sun and the thunder dropped down right on top of them.  They were no longer scared; they felt safe within the small confines of the car.  They headed home and they knew would get there despite the rising waters and threatening storm.  They imagined alternate endings to the movie that was never finished and the miles clicked away faster than before.  Soon they were turning into their neighborhood, onto their street and then with purpose, into their driveway.  They ran through the door and shook the last bits of fear and rain from their hair.  They stood there soaked as their clothes dripped onto the floor and their words dripped of determination.  They were home, they were safe and they were grateful.

Speak Loudly and Carry a Big Stick

Did you ever read something and as you are reading it think “Wait, am I really reading this?”  That was me this morning as I read this article from the Austin American Statesman entitled “As women take majority on City Council, staff warned to expect more questions, longer talks”.  Read full article here.  I’m sorry, warned?  Is this like a storm warning or a tornado warning?  Run!  Take cover!  Women on City Council!  AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Apparently, Austin City Council is now comprised of 7 women and 4 men.  The City Manager’s office felt this was such a change from business as normal that they called in some experts to speak on “how to talk to a female-dominated City Council”.  Experts on how to speak to women.  Again, I’m sorry, but are we running a city or trying to date each other?  It’s business people.  Just business.  Man, woman, black, white, mixed.  It. Is. Business.

Feeling my anger?  Wait, because it only gets better.  They fly in a guy from Florida to talk about working with women and his first bullet point is that “Women ask a lot of questions”.  How did he glean this factual information?  He got this first hand from listening to his 11 year old daughter and then applying it to women he worked with.  He says that his daughter asked him a lot of questions on the way to a game and he had to patiently reply to them.  Dad of the year material right here!!  He goes on to say women are less likely to read agenda information and ask questions instead and how he applies the patience he learned from being a Dad to the women he works with as well.  Wait!  Forget Dad of the year, this man is a TRUE humanitarian. 

Mad yet?  Hold on, you'll love this.  His next point is that women don’t like to deal with numbers.  I myself hate math but to say women don’t like to deal with numbers?  I am now boiling over and I hope you are as well.  A man today, in the year 2015, is saying something akin to “don’t worry your pretty little head with this man stuff” and we are PAYING him to say this!! Don’t anyone tell AISD.  Their CFO is a woman!!  A woman! And she is in charge of numbers and money and stuff.

Finally, this Mensa member concludes with if Hillary Clinton is elected that women will take over everywhere.  There will women be in charge from the bottom to the top he claims, so boys, better behave.  Watch what you say, use your nice words and however much you might want to Don Draper your secretary, you better not.  Once Hillary is in, she will make women in charge of everything and your days as top dog are over.  Actually, I am sure once she is in all men will be fitted with a tracking device, pumped full of Soma and exist only to fulfill our every desire.  That is what her campaign is being built around, right?  Forget a chicken in every pot; we are going to have a woman in every leadership role throughout the country!

The author of this article interviews a woman who studies gender issues and is a professor at McCombs Business School at UT.  Two women talking?  Can you imagine all the questions that they asked each other?  I hope that no numbers were involved without a man being there to help them out.  This professor very kindly refutes the nonsense our so-called woman expert prattled on about.  I really was too angry to read anymore and just skimmed the rest of it.  I couldn’t let it go and printed it out at work and have shocked, appalled and angered the other women I work with too.  The fact that the City of Austin flew this yahoo here to talk about working with women and then labeled it as training and made city staff attend absolutely boggles my mind.  I cannot imagine being a city employee and having to listen to that drivel. I really don’t think I would have made it past his opening remark.  I would have yelled “sic semper tyrannis” and rushed the stage.   

I recently worked with a small group of students reviewing US History.  All of those kids can tell you what the 19^th Amendment changed because I was pretty passionate about explaining it and basically told them they had to remember it.  (Those of you who don’t know, first of all shame on you, second it was votes for women)  

March on sisters!

Every week I would ask them my favorite amendment and every week they would laugh and say “19^th.”  When I read articles like the one that has me all fired up today, I realize we need to be teaching them more than the 19^th amendment.  We need to be teaching our kids, and especially our girls, how we are still fighting; we may have gotten our vote, but that almost a hundred years later, we are still struggling to be heard.  I wish that everyone would join me in the 21^st century and realize that we are all equal.  We are all just people who have our strengths and our weaknesses, but that those strength and weaknesses come from our personality, not our gender. 

Works Cited

Rockwell, Lilly. "As Women Take Majority on Austin City Council, Staff Warned to Expect More Questions, Longer Talks." Cityhall.blog.statesman.com. Austin American Statesman, 12 May 2015. Web. 13 May 2015.

What We Really, Really Want

As I work with men and am a mother, I have been asked what it is we mothers really want for Mother’s Day.  What we want is so very simple: to be loved, to be acknowledged, to be adored and then we want you to leave us alone.  We want you to take the kids and the dogs and anything else small and underfoot and go have a great day.  Come back sweaty and exhausted and smiling ear to ear and tell us all about it, but give us three hours to ourselves so we can miss you.  This is especially true if your kids are littles.  Guys, take those littles to the park, run them into the ground and bring them home limp and pliable with exhaustion.  She will have spent those alone hours doing things she wanted to do, in the middle of the day!  No, you don’t need to know what it is.  Maybe it is catching up on TV or reading a book or simply sitting in the quiet and smiling.  Whatever she does, she will enjoy it.

Mr. Frog got it right.

For the men who say things like “My wife isn’t my mother”, I simply say “You jerk.”  Were you in the delivery room?  Did you see what she went through to bring out the life you helped create?  You owe her an internal organ let alone a card or some flowers or the chance to lie in bed while you make breakfast.  Remember that Father’s Day is a month away and what comes around goes around because you are not her father now, are you?

If you have middle to older children, remind them that Mother’s Day is this Sunday.  Put the pressure on the kid with the good heart to make a card, draw a picture, and use their words to tell mom they really do still love her.  Then pressure her/him even more to guilt the other kids into doing the same.  Preteens and teens aren’t as forthcoming with love as they are with sarcasm and derisive sneers, so we need that one day to be reminded that they do actually love us and like us a little bit.  It gives us the energy to keep trying with them.  We are the ones they blame when they can’t find something or they are running late or they told us they needed this thing ten minutes before they needed it.  This can get old.  A well written card or just an “I love you Mom” will keep us in the game without being mean for quite a while.

We really don’t want much at all. Let us revel in the fact that we are givers of life and that they, and you, appreciate us for it.  Say things like “I know I always made you clean up the vomit and well, I really appreciate you for that.”  Or “I know our kids are horrible, hot messes right now, but there is no one else I would rather do this with”.  Little things guys.  We are the people who oooh over a sweaty handful of dandelions picked out of the front yard or exclaim over the crumpled art project in the bottom of a backpack; we don’t need grand gestures, we just need gestures.  

The Early Bird Gets Tired

I do not enjoy working out at 5:30am but my choices are really limited during the school year.  I have a hard time trying to work out after work because kids take precedence and truthfully, all I really want to do is come home and take off my shoes and bra.  My only other choice is to go round and I have promised Bill I won't do that until my sixties.  Oh I will be a happy and fat old lady!

For those of you wondering if a 5:30am workout is worth it, it always is.  However, I wanted to break it down for you so you know exactly what you are in store for.  

Timeline for a 5:30am Workout

Bedtime the Night Before:  set alarm for 4:30am. Die a little inside.

Midnight: Wake up to pee.  Pee.  Go back to sleep smiling because you have 4.5 hours left to sleep.

3am: Wake up to pee.  Pee.  Toss, turn and levitate over the bed because you know your alarm is going to ring any second.

4:20am: fall into deep sleep

4:30: turn alarm off and wonder if you should pretend you don't hear it.

4:32am: get up because you have to pee.  Pee.  Figure as long as you are up you might as well get dressed to work out.

4:40am: eat a little something and drink coffee because you tried working out before without it and wanted to cry and throw up the entire time.

5:30am: start working out and hating your life.

5:40am: sandbag your way through workout because it is 5:40 in the morning.

5:45am: Trainer calls you out for sandbagging your workout.  Hate trainer and want to kick him.  Only thing stopping you is that you lack energy to lift your leg.

6:00am:  come in last during all the sprints and wish a 60 year old round woman would join your exercise group so she could come in last and you could feel better about yourself.

6:15am - cut workout short because you have to get kids on bus.  Feel good and rushed.

6:30am - run into house, wake everyone up, shower.  Continue to sweat for one hour despite showering.

8:00 to 10:00am - you are flying high on endorphins and caffeine.  Annoy your coworkers to no end because you are flying high on endorphins and caffeine.

10:00am - 12:00pm - grunt and/or groan every time you stand or sit down because you did not stretch and you are tightening up and already sore.

12:00pm - realize that wash and wear hair is not really a style you can pull off.

Right??

1:00pm - eat lunch and revive a little.

2:00pm: crash.  Drink Diet Coke despite promising yourself earlier in the week that was the only Diet Coke you would drink.

3:00pm: consume everything chocolate in sight as your already sweet sweet tooth has been ignited by the evil of aspartame.

4:30pm: drive home starving.

5:00pm: get home and realize you still have to make dinner.  Cry a little.

5:05pm:  call husband and ask him to pick up dinner on the way home.  It's Thai so you can still feel like you are eating healthy.

6:00pm - 7:00pm:  talk husband's ear off about your day, your workout, your enthusiasm for life.  Also try, and fail, to engage him in important things like finance, parenting or plans for summer.

7:05pm:  stop talking.

7:07pm: fall asleep sitting straight up.

8:00pm - give up all pretenses of not being asleep in chair.  Go to bed.

Repeat this twice a week until school lets out and you can work out at a normal time.  We are down to five more weeks of school, so that means only 10 more 5:30am workouts.  I will be glad to work out at a normal time and Bill will be glad that I can stay up til at least 9pm on a Friday.  He shouldn't worry because I know when I get old and grow round, I will be up late every night.  When else am I going to eat all that ice cream??