enlightened by a blackout

it is always interesting the variety of responses people have in different situations. whether it is a serious tragedy or a minor inconvenience, there is always a wide range of response. sometimes it is conditional and people may not react the same way to every situation - however, i think ultimately and for the most part our inherent nature will always rear itself in its truest form. there are a thousand quotes about adversity and showing true character, but i found some answers last night while experiencing what one may call a "minor catastrophe" 

at about 11:30 pm. gary and i were jarred from sleep by our barking dog, people outside talking, and car lights shining in our window.  after a minute or so we realized the electricity had gone out. not a big deal, especially in the middle of the night. however on a muggy night, with anticipation of waking up to another hot day - the small (very small) part of me that actually thinks ahead... started to panic. it was very mild panic, but enough to not let me go back to sleep right away. not to mention the creepy silence from everything being turned  off - no ac hum, no fridge or fan buzz - was hard to ignore. 

so how do people react in crisis? well in the microcosm of my neighborhood (obviously an excellent representation for the rest of society) this is what we had - 

a.  the aggressive alpha go-getters: meet my neighbors. within seconds they had car lights shining, cell phones in hand and cigarettes lit like emergency flares holding the philadelphia convention in the middle of the street. they were problem solving, hypothesizing, checking on people, and cursing the electric company. these people are going to protect the herd. i suggested that gary join them to see what was up, but he was clearly not breaking character....

b.the complete apathetic: meet gary: my man, my protector and my provider.......(ahem) the man  barely woke up enough to process the fact the electric was out. he did the most important thing first, though,  check for his iphone - and then crawled back into bed. being a hermit-vampire he was more than thrilled at the extra darkness he had going for his 10 hour snooze, but was somewhat annoyed that i didn't share his optimism...

c. the knee-jerk irrational: you guessed it - that's me! people can react irrationally at a variety of levels. some can get really extremist, start looting stores and shooting trespassers. i am your totally passive, friendly irrational. the irrational person wants to do something amid the crisis, but they aren't really sure what to do. for instance, i decided to logically start lighting about a dozen candles - because it was almost midnight and i really needed some good illumination?!?! well of course, how can you clean in the dark? that's right. i tidied up our disgusting house, because in the event of a blackout someone might need to stop by for a cup of sugar  and i just can't have them think we live like pigs (my mother would be so proud). other more aggressive irrationals are going to aim a gun in your face - i just may shoot you with a spray of fresh linen febreeze. 

so to recap - when in a catastrophe, you should probably not call on the thomas family, we are useless. gary will be busy setting the alarm for noon on his iphone and i will only be able to give you tips on how to clean house by candle light and a fisher price dinosaur flashlight that roars every time you turn it on....

oh and a shout out to the dog, Gunner, who after taking on 'go-getter' personality and waking up the family, promptly laid in the floor and slept the rest of the night (Gary may hate that dog, but they are brothers separated at birth when it comes down to it...) 

Mark of Freedom

This weekend was about independence, freedom, democracy...all the things that make this country such a wonderfully unique and blessed place to live.
Voltaire says, "Man is free at the moment he wishes to be." There is nothing better than witnessing people exercise their freedoms, especially on the day their country celebrates liberty. This is not something you have to go searching for in our nation's capitol or at picket lines or in the court room - I spent this weekend just hanging around small towns and watched as ordinary people declared their freedom everywhere.

Saturday morning I was met in the Dollar Store parking lot by a man who practiced his freedom to drive his personal vehicle sans shirt. This middle age man did so appropriately with his hard rock screaming through his speakers and his tats glistening in the sunlight. The beauty of this situation is watching someone exercise their freedom to be belly bare, despite a full gut and course body hair, with no hesitation. I was further impressed by this proud citizen when he so dutifully observed the dress code of our fine country by digging in the back of his Bronco for a shirt in order complete that natural cause and effect where shirts and shoes yield service. Naturally, he produced a fine, white, tank-top; dare I say that it was airbrushed. Carry on, fearless American.

Later that same afternoon while in the parking lot of the ONLY place to be on our country's birthday weekend, Wal-Mart, I witnessed yet another taxpaying resident practicing her freedom to completely snub the law, and moreover the safety of her offspring. This brave woman crept into her handicap parking spot with her windows down and Lil' Wayne rattling the Supercenter doors.  It was this loud announcement of her arrival that made me turn around to see a bold American flick her cigarette out one window, while her toddler stood in the front seat, hanging onto the door of the opposite window doing an impressive balancing act for her teeny tiny body. Now, if that is not quintessential life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness - I don't know what is.

Sunday, Americans paraded their biggest demonstrations of independence. And in the course of human events typical for this day it came time to light fireworks.  What better way to mark freedom and the solemn, contemplative, sound words of our our country's forefathers than with unabashed recklessness in the presence of fire? I am proud to be married to a man that did not deny his inalienable right to blow up some really wicked pyrotechnics. And in this case NOT all men are created equal, because there are only a few folks out there daft enough to light heavy duty fireworks for their first time ever dressed in shorts. So kudos to my husband who practiced his right to bear calves while setting off fireworks.  Like most freedoms, though, his was not totally "free" - there was a price to pay...

Because of the loud booms and no sight of her daddy, Charley freaked out over the fireworks and begged to go inside. Disappointed at my wimpy child, I went inside but not before Charley was appropriately scarred for life (or at least the evening). Just a few lightings into the show, Gary and his pyro partner lit a fairly large rocket that did not detonate in the air, but on the ground - more specifically onto Gary's calf. All Charley heard was an explosion and her dad yell, "Ow!" While there are bombs bursting in front of her she begins bursting into complete hysterics and we go inside.  Meanwhile, I have no clue if Gary's leg is still in tact, but I still hear the blasts (and so does Charley as she buries her face deeper and deeper into the couch with each one) I assume, the patriot is safe.  When silence resumed and my wound up toddler caught her breath, we ventured outside to check on daddy.  In the darkness, with only his word to go on it seemed as if Gary was okay.  It was not until next day the soldier would reveal his battle wounds - and it was gross.

But the best part of all was that Gary's stamp of freedom, his patriotic mark of the BIRTH of our nation was in the single, blatant shape of a very specific cell that has a compact head attached to long flagella...

Nothing says, "Happy Birthday, America" like a limb branded by a recreation rocket made in China and in the shape of a sperm. Way to go, Gary! Thomas J and the crew would be proud.

So go forth citizens and celebrate your rights in all their glory - shirtless or careless - just don't take your rights for granted!

Flush-tered

Just an update on the potty training...
Since we have started potty training, we have had many messes - including the BIG one that occurred when I thought she was taking a nap, but instead she pooped in her Pull-Up, removed the 'Dapper' (as she calls it) and proceeded to throw/smear/spread her mess. Only a mother can look at that filth and think, "Hey, at least she wanted the diaper off when it was dirty - that is a step in the right direction." All the while I was sobbing, FeBreezing, and Cloroxing simultaneously.

Despite the many, many messes - what is it about your tiny offspring peeing and pooping in the toilet that makes you get a little teary eyed, dance like a fool, shower them in praise, and toss stickers like rappers throw money? It is those FEW moments I feel like I am on to something and our hard work has paid off.

Unfortunately though,  I am slowly realizing (and even more slowly admitting) that we may not be ready for potty training. When I mentioned the potty and she fell to her knees and cried, exhausted at the thought of sitting on the toilet again, it seems as if this is not her time. So I wasted a lot of time and energy for this transition/milestone just so some illiterate, illogical, immature being that has only been on this earth for 2 years could stop the whole process. I am getting shaken down by a diaper clad, 33 lb kid who smears her poop on the wall. Super. Apparently, I have a strong-willed kid that wants things on her terms. Awesome for her when she is in the board room refusing to give in, but not so easy when she is excusing herself from lunch table at McNabb Middle so her incompetent mother who works down the hall can change her diaper. Okay, okay - I know it won't get that bad and at the most I will probably be dealing with the diapers a just few more months. Man, this is tough.  You don't want to coddle your child and set the tone for some Veruca Salt-"but-daddy--I-want-an-Oompa-Loompa-now" spoiled brat, but I am not sure I want to screw her up forever over bowel movements to the point she puffs an inhaler every time she hears a toilet flush (I think Freud has a whole chapter about that). I have heard over and over again that you have to wait until the kid is ready, but I really wanted to believe that I could work some mommy magic and do this thing on my terms - not so much, not this battle.

So I'm backing off, waving the white Clorox wipe,and putting the potty timer away for now. In all honestly my sanity and Swifter need a break anyway.  Here is to trying a more "lax" approach.