Crisis Management

I have a theory as to why the current administration and government is struggling with the economy, the oil crisis clean up in the Gulf of Mexico, problems of trespassing and bullying in Arizona, unpleasant political dialogues and demagoguery, spins of the news right, left and out and out wrong, the absence of jobs, the misbehavior of Washington and Wallstreet and a dearth of movies that anyone other than uber fanboys and fangirls want to see.   The political and pundit class severely under represents Moms of many.  Lest you think I'm merely advocating for my own small subset within the population, understand Moms of many are used to dealing with many of the crisis's facing America today. 

Consider that Moms of three or more often are called upon to 1) stretch an existing budget to fit more and more people's needs.  They are also experts on explaining, It doesn't matter how much YOU want it, the answer is No.

 2) We spend much of our day resolving property disputes that are sometimes aggressive and unpleasant; that's my hairbrush! No it's NOT!  That's my seat, I was sitting there.  MOMMMMMM!  Expert moms know the answer to this is nobody wins, no one gets the hair brush and no one gets the seat.  

3) We specialize in anonymous clean ups of messes no one else deems tolerable or possible to fix.  You --get those scrubbers out there.  You, stop sweeping sand over the oil and clean the thing up properly or I'll make you stay here until it's done.   You, quit tattle-tailing  on everyone else and get to work cleaning.   No one is getting to do anything else, no BBQ's, no swimming, no parties, no golfing no nothing until this mess is cleaned up.

4) We always have work that can be assigned if people are disagreeable.  Who doesn't think Congress could use an extra chore or two (Peace through work) or at least a time out? Also, we don't let our kids get away with half measures.  You have to read the book before you can write the report.  Congress, you have to read the damn bill before you may start counting your votes.

5) We don't have to know what exactly happened to know what is wrong and who done it; Perfect knowledge of the facts is not necessary for us to act, perfect knowledge of the characters involved, that we have.   I can look at my children in the kitchen and know who snuck my birthday chocolate.  

So, for the good of my country, I humbly suggest the next commission formed by the President be front loaded not with political hacks or professorial theorists but Moms of four or more; practical pragmatist experienced seasoned Moms.  We'll reign in Congress.  We'll sure it's fair.  And as an added bonus, we'll even help Michelle with getting people to eat their fruits and veggies.  We can do it.  

Wonder if I could be appointed the Mother Czar?

Turning 44

Today I'm 44.  Every year I have the good fortune of having my birthday associated with a long weekend or at least a few stray fire crackers.  Every year, I make goals for the coming year.  I don't have a set pattern or number, but this year, I've decided to adopt 44 just for the artistic sense of the thing. Some of them might even happen with a fierce bit of doing.  So here are my birthday wishes for the next 365 days.

44) Exercise every day for 30 minutes doing something!
43) Learn to appreciate wine such that I can have a marginal knowledge of it.
42) Finish learning Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata
41) Make jam. (I don't know how).
40) Read a book a month.
39) Plow through the writing of the rest of Helen.
38) Pray for  my family and friends more.
37) Get the back basement the way it is supposed to be.
36) Paint or draw more often.
35) Call my friends and family on a weekly basis. (I can be pretty spacy).
34) Play with my children instead of getting caught up on everything that doesn't matter.
33) See a Whale in the wild.
32) Visit some new states.
31) Catch a ball at a baseball game.
30) Float down a river.
29) Learn to play the guitar.
28) Become a lecture or Eucharistic Minister at mass.
27) Improve my writing/grammar/technical knowledge of the craft.
26) Lose 20 pounds.
25) Get more involved in community doing something. (Don't know what yet).
24) Publish more.
23) Tour the White House (I've never done it).
22) Go to Politics and Prose (bookstore with live readings, I've always wanted to go).
21) See a concert at Wolftrap.
20) Go to the Sugarloaf Craft festival (I've never been).
19) Be able to sink a ball with my break shot (right now it stinks royally).
18) Date night once every two weeks.
17) Make a habit of weekly adoration.
16) Use the good crystal and good china more often because every day is a special occasion.
15) Become syndicated. (Note to self, begin process of applying for syndication doofus).
14) Dance, sing and laugh more.
13) Take kids tubing --winter.
12) Fish this summer at least until I catch a fish. 
11) Send Birthday cards and gifts out on time.
10) Ride a horse.
9) Learn how to do some basic home repair/decor work.
8) Finish a half marathon.
7) Go to an Opera so I can experience it.
6) Learn to walk on my hands. (Not everything I want to do is meaningful).
5) Learn to write with my left hand.  (Not everything I want to learn is important either).
4) Collect my family's stories (Both sides and as many generational ones as possible).
3) Waste less time and want for less time.
2)  Discipline myself about reading news and politics on the internet and about writing, so that it does not trump the rest of life.
1) Tell everyone I love them more often, and show it daily. 

Now I'm going to blow out my candles and eat some cake.  The exercise bit?  I'm going to go out for a date night tonight and we're going to walk three miles. 
 

MOM CSI

When you walk into the kitchen and find five snips three inches long of brown hair, it only takes a survey of the heads about you to know who done it.  Getting them to fess up is another matter. 

Me: This is your hair.  It's your color.  Why didn't you come to me to get the pony tail out?

Child with oddly shaped hair: I didn't cut it.

Fear strikes my heart as I envision another child being perhaps involved in this process.  Me: Then who did?

Child with bad hair cut: My hair isn't cut.

I take the pieces and show how they fit exactly where her ponytail that I fixed for her this morning complete with a bow to prove that her hair is in fact no longer attached to her head. 

Child shuts eyes and screams louder.  Stop bothering me!

I hold up small plastic scissors also left at the scene of the crime.  "These are yours." 

She stomps off into a corner.

Bad cop is not working, switching to good cop.  "Did your ponytail bother you?"

She nods sorrowfully. 

"Why didn't you come see me?"

"I couldn't find you."

Now I was in the living room or my bedroom with the obnoxious task of laundry so it is likely that she simply avoided where I might be for fear of being coopted into service or she simply had a problem and decided to solve it herself --most likely.  

"Why didn't you find your sisters or brothers?  They could have helped you."

"I know. But I had the scissors.  It was fun."

New rule for child: Cutting is only for paper.  New rule for me:  Hide the scissors and she's never getting ponytails again.