Facebook has its time and place

I feel like I have been absent from Blogging for a long time. Heck my readership is like 4 a day now, don't even know why those 4 people even tune in. But today, that may be a good thing because I am going to use this time to vent.

I have mentioned before that my friends and I have joined the Facebook generation. And it has been pretty cool. Good things happened through Facebook.

I was able to re-connect as an adult with my cousins and really get to know them as the wonderful man and women that they are. This proved to be invaluable when the tragedy of my cousin Desha's death hit us. We were already connected and able to console each other, something that might have been difficult to do 6 months prior. I have learned through Facebook that they are some tough cookies, that they have friends that love them like sisters and that they really love their family. Sure, everyone thought that "25 things" was a total waste!

I have re-connected with college friends. I am proud to see that we have all turned into respectable, productive adults. I have agreed with my best high school buddy that the friends we made in college really and truly are friends for life. I know it sounds weird, but true.

All this is great and good, but there is a downside to this electronic wonder. Social networking has its time and place.

Here's my issue, my sister CALLED me yesterday and told me that my mother's best friend had lost her long, hard battle with cancer on Sunday afternoon. How did my sister find out? Cate's daughter told my mother on a WALL POST a day later.

30+ years of friendship -- a wall post? WTF?

I know it is hard. Making or receiving that heart-stopping phone call.

After 30 years of friendship...30 years that included potty training, carpooling, volunteering, and crafting. To parenting wild teenagers, sick children, even grandchildren. 30 years of mother-in-law stories, road-trips, vacations, prayers, and operations, to be reduced to a Facebook post. Social networking my ass.

I hope my kids hear me now, give my friends the consideration they deserve and call them please.

And for dear Cate, who for some reason I could still only call "Mrs. C" to her face even at 43:

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord.
And let perpetual light shine upon her.
May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in peace.
Amen.

Give Jesus a big high five for me, make him some chicken wings and a have cold one on me.

Life with boys

"Get the baseball bat!"

Sounds of thumping, doors opening and closing.

"Over here, over here!"

Now, if you are the mother to girls, your immediate thought might be that they are organizing a quick pick-up game of softball. Mother to boys? Forget it.

All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. My mind actually was miles ahead of my butt which remained firmly planted in this office chair. I actually had to will myself to get up and investigate.

My motherly instincts were correct.

Now before you pre-judge and assume that my children are juvenile delinquents setting out to straighten out the wayward neighbor, put your mind at rest.

They were just going to chop a tree down.

Heaven help me.

Definition

So I am sitting here at school, I am the "punishment" today. Can't behave like a high schooler? Well, then you can sit with Mrs. D this afternoon. I wonder if my husband feels the same way?

I have a little extra time. A few students came in from art class to ask their soccer coach if they could draw her and an object that defines her. Interesting assignment. Could you name one thing that defines you? We thought about it for a while. Something religious, sporty, materialistic?

I love Traci's answer. So perfect, especially for someone in her profession. A clock -- an hourglass -- a watch.

What do you think defines her?

Patience.

Something to strive for for me personally.

Head hanging...

I feel like I should play Taps or something. My laptop is dead.
I know... weep, mourn, carry on.

She is the victim of a light saber battle. They won't admit to a direct cause yet... but they reluctantly admitted to watching it crash onto the floor. The fact that there were flashes of light and thumping coming from the family room just prior to my sitting down and discovering that horrid blue screen; or that the room was eerily quiet should have alerted me. Moms of boys, you know that "sound".

Thank goodness I bought an external hard drive and backed up fairly recently. However, all my bookmarks are toast, all my links to my cool mommy bloggers that I never got around to adding to the sidebar--- GONE.

What will I do? Actually, the time I spent on the computer reading blogs and chatting with my electronic friends has been replaced with Facebook. So sad! How did I get here?

Claire and her friend Andrew have delighted in making fun of their parents who "speak in FB status" now. Lame, I know. But now, I have to sit at the desk and WAIT MY TURN for the big computer. Ugh, who wants to do that? I am the mother... I should be able to get on WHENEVER. School? Please. I have Facebooking/e-mailing/blogging to do. So here I sit at 12:30 am trying to squeak out something that resembles an intelligent thought.

Hey, maybe I'll have time for laundry, or *gasp* mopping the kitchen floor.

Yea, right.

Imagine

On the eve of the anniversary of Roe v. Wade and one day into this historic presidency. I want to share this.

That's it.

Imagine...

My laptop is back! Yay! New power cords make all the difference in the world when you have a battery that is crap -- and a battery that keeps a charge for 10 minutes is exactly that, crap.

Thank your for your prayers. My sister-in-law is reconnecting with the fight inside her. This will be a hard fought battle fought with determination and with a LOT of help from her prayer warriors, and I don't use that term loosely. I don't mean to make this look like I am taking this lightly-- I just can't seem to write about it-- cathartic writing-- my ass...

Tomorrow I will start my new year -- another attempt at my own personal NaBloPoMo...I have been such a slacker -- I was actually approved for bloggher ads and never got off my butt and sent in the paper work. Why, this never-read bag of words might actually buy me a cup of coffee every few months...if I actually got some motivation.

Keep praying -- for everyone devastated by illness and fear.

Wordless

Blogging is kind of a weird concept. I always looked at it as a way to keep the brain cells synapsing, the creative juices flowing. For some people it is an on-line diary, for others it is a whine-fest, a bitch-fest or even a prayer-fest. I don't know exactly where I fall in those lines.

I want to write about silly things tonight. About the silly reasons I still love NOLA, about crazy Christmas tales, my love for really stupid sit-coms or despite this stupid drought-- I am tired of rain.

Everytime I push myself to the benign I end up facing the one thing I don't want to.

My sister-in-law is in a hospital, she and her husband and children are devastated by the diagnosis of cancer. How can I write silly things?

Merry Christmas!

My favorite time is right now, after the commercial Christmas... I find that I get so caught up in my "Martha-ness" that I actually can't wait for it to "be over". How sad is that? That is why I am so glad that we have always stressed the liturgical Christmas season-- the 12 days of Christmas. A time where we can sit back and relax and enjoy family and the season. Even if that means that we are the only family in Roswell without a tree in the garbage on Jan. 1st.

Today is the feast day of the Holy Family and we spent the day in celebration of family. OK, so the teens may have hummed a dirge or two as we forced asked them nicely to join us for an afternoon of games and fun with cousin Eileen, their grandfather's 1st cousin. A retired teacher who still sounds like she is F.O.B. (fresh off the boat) a wonderful woman who has spent the last 50 years telling children what to do and when. Starting to get it? Mix my monkeys, my sisters' monkeys and the rest of the gang (18 people) on a rainy day in a 2 bedroom apartment. Throw some Bingo cards and you get...

a nice day.

Because in the end its all about being around the people that you love- quirks and all. (Even if the people you love actually claim to win BINGO 4 times on ONE card!)

I am about to get the prayer warriors charging, but I can't go there tonight. Please as you say your prayers, please add a special one for my sister-in-law who has been in the hospital since the 23rd.

Dear Lord, please bestow your grace and strength on Biffy, her children, husband and family through this trying time. Remind them of your undying love.

I have been sucked into the vortex of Facebook and I can't get out.

While I was busy "friending" people far and near I did learn a few things. I thought I might share a few pearls of wisdom-- you know, to help you make it through the season.

* DO NOT wear heels to work all day to "dress up those jeans" and THEN wear 4" heels to your husband's office party. While you will feel sexy (who can resist a hot red heel) you will find yourself UNABLE to take part in a normal conversation with anyone under 6'2". All you will be capable of thinking about is the throbbing pain in the balls of your foot. This will make you resent the boss's wife for not just standing on a chair so you didn't have to bend down to hear her.

* DO NOT allow your anxious teenagers to talk you into putting up the tree RIGHT AWAY--AS SOON as the Thanksgiving dishes are washed. This will cause you to say, "If you want it so bad, you do it." This will lead to a lopsided tree that the perfectionist in you will constantly want to rearrange -- even after the lights and bulbs are on. This will lead your teens to remind you that you are always too critical...which cannot be a good thing for them so close to Christmas.

*DO appreciate your family's affection for bacon. As "breakfast for dinner" used to be a treat, it will become OLD quite fast.

*DO remember that YOU encouraged your children to have independent thoughts. Remind yourself of this constantly when they are complaining about eggs for dinner again. Try to forget the memory of your mother's horrified description of her friend who *gasp* served canned soup and sandwiches for dinner. Tell mom that you made cordon-bleu last night.

*be happy for the lessons you have learned in special ed-- especially when to engage in conversations. Acknowledge to your oldest that yes this is a life long battle for you, but those baby steps made you very happy when you avoided the man having a conversation with his pinkie finger in Wendy's the other night.

Wendy's? Remember the complaints about eggs? Mother of the year, I'm telling you, mother of the year.

Advent

Enough said.
This is a nice re-entry into blog life. (Sorry I have been so remiss!)

Just remember, it began with worship.