Bikes In Honduras

Marcela, 31, Marissa's mom, was reminding me of how frustrated I'd been trying to teach her to ride a bike long ago.  I'd become her mom when she was 7, most kids already know how to ride a bike then.

"Like we even had bikes in Honduras?" she reminded me.

Gosh, how quickly I've forgotten about the soul-numbing poverty of Honduras in the 1970s.

Because I'm more than a little nervous about being a single old lady having to eat cat food out of a can at some future date, because I'd retired early and taken a 14% pension cut for the rest of my life, because I'm dumb enough to read sensationalistic news stories, I do always have my eye out for potential employment someday - even though I'll clearly be elderly at the time.

I'd ran out early onto the beach down in St. Pete to see the sunrise and found a John Deere tractor hard at work, smoothing and raking the sand.  Not a bad job.  I could do that.

See the tractor to the right there in the distance?

But for now, I'm up to my eyeballs in projects and plans.  With Kevin and Lauren here I'd allowed myself to rush through my chores half-heartedly in a lackadaisical manner, knowing my work would still be waiting on me later.  Duh, it's never completed.

Kevin and I went to see the James Bond movie, Skyfall, yesterday while the kids were in school.  How cool was that?  We had the entire theater to ourselves, whispering was unnecessary, and it was a great movie.

Yolie'd gone with Sarah to the yoga class that Sarah teaches, Kevin and I'd considered it, but punked out, choosing a long walk instead.  Something I need to force myself to do more often.  I love doing it, but I get busy and put it off.

One of my Emotional Twins has been winding himself into a sparking, highly-charged  emotional knot, his anxiety spiking over nothing, his inability to be reasoned with at times is more than a little frustrating for me.  I feel a flame-out coming on.  Even if I never completely succeed in teaching him some better coping skills, I know it won't be due to a lack of trying on my part.

But oh my goodness, I could haul manure all day long and not be half as emotionally whacked out as I am after a day of dealing with his skyrocketing anxiety.

It's much, much improved over the years, and it's not a constant thing, but when it hits, oh my.

Kevin set off his usual amazing display of fireworks last night, the kids loved it as do I.  It's too mainstream for New Year's Eve, but was just right on January 4th for this oppositional defiant family.

My 14 year old son has been emotionally difficult as well, touchy and irritable, but I'm attributing it to Holiday Hell.  Talking with another woman whose significant other had suffered an emotionally and physically abusive childhood due to a parent's alcoholism, learning how she still deals with her mate's plunging lows, it just makes me wonder about it all.

Pouring ourselves into our children, nurturing and keeping them safe - what better job on earth could there be?

Personally I believe that all holidays are way over-rated, and the entire stinking world gets too overly-stimulated, expectations become impossibly difficult to attain, leaving disappointment, stress, and blame everywhere.

Something's just wrong with this picture, and with our society.

Simplify folks, produce, don't consume, sloooooow down, be mindful, breathe Cindy.

The Simple Dollar wrote about the enormous media pressure to buy stuff, The Grist tweeted a 'get rid of stuff' article link, telling folks that they now spend weeks, if not months, of their lives rooting around in their stuff for what they need. Don't go buy more crap with which to organize, instead try owning less crap that needs to be organized.

The more cleaned-off surfaces I see around here, the better my brain, my heart and soul can function.

I'm concentrating on walls, floors and ceilings.  If it isn't hung up, do we really need it?  I'm not a figurine collector, decorations don't appeal to me, if I can't read it, do I need it?  Or grow it.  Gotta grow it.

Thank you Lord for making me this way, it seems oh so much easier than those who are chasing every fad, dependent upon the opinions of others, or of those that have such a deep need that is never fulfilled no matter what they buy.

I kinda think it's about the doing, the being, not the having, nor the accumulating.

If I'm wrong?  Then I'm a happy wrong.

And as an elderly lady?  I'm not gonna go get a job, I'll reduce my standard of living even further, I'll grown what I eat, I'll downsize.  I'm not worried...because I'm kinda not a spender.

I am, however, emotionally deflated a bit this morning after having to say good-bye to Lauren and Kevin, two of the finest, most wonderful people on this planet.  I sure do love 'em both.

And a shout-out to another lovely niece, Katie, my future Notre Dame graduate, for sending Grandma the coolest book on earth.  And Riga?  Oh my goodness.  I'm still grinning.