Feelin’ Pretty Cool tyvm
03 Mar 2010 Leave a Comment
in child, children, family, feminism, girls, mother Tags: basketball, cool, cool runnings, family, mommy dearest, teenagers, texting
Monday evening I spent two hours at a very emotional basketball playoff—my son’s last ditch effort to win and move on. Sadly, that win didn’t happen because they got their butts handed to them. Not one man on his team was on their game and when they realized that…they started to have fun! Glad basketball is over and we can move on to baseball which will be the thing that moves Liam out of my house and in to college…bring it on!!!
Sitting on the bleachers next to me was a very lovely teenage girl (whom I know well). She told me I was “cool.” Not the first time I’ve heard that from my son’s set (or my daughter’s either), but hearing her say that gave me a warm fuzzy.
YES! I’m cool! (pump fist).
What makes someone my age “cool” to the kids? Is it the way I dress? If jeans, sweats, UGGs or flip flops make me cool…that’s easy! Is it the big car with heated seats? Once, one of the girls in my son’s friend circle told me she liked how I smelled…hmm….ok. Thanks. Does my perfume make me cool?
Is it the wild and wacky dancing in the rain with kids in their skivvies? That was fun and very cool.
Is it because my head stays attached to my shoulders and I simply sigh heavily when I hear swear words and trash talk coming from the next room or the back seat? (I don’t condone it, but it’s not the mountain to die on either).
I must be cool because my kids still tell me everything (well, nearly) and so do their friends. That will change, I’m sure, but for now I probably have Too Much Information and I will protect that.
“It’s cause you’re the warm, fuzzy, squishy cool mom…that’s why our friends tell you everything.”
See…I’m cool, man!
I’ve been sucked in by some of the music my kids listen to….loving Owl City and Lady Gaga (um, yes). Now it’s my job to convince them that the Grateful Dead, Elton John and The Who are cool too. But can’t wait to take Erin to her first concert in a few weeks….TRAIN!!! We’re there babes! “Hey Soul, Sister!”
At the basketball game Monday night I was texting Liam’s best friend. (This is the boy I refer to as “Son #3″. Our house is his second home and vice versa for Liam. I treat him as I do my own.) He was sitting far away from me with the opposing team’s cheering section, so I decided to text him and tell him off for being on the wrong side of the gym. And, I just like messing with him.
Me: “I can c u. Sitting with the enemy.”
#3: “LOL Mrs. G, he’s my old football coach.”
Me: “Fine! LOL, I was just kidding.”
#3: “Ok. And it’s jk fyi.”
What? He’s correcting my text lingo? Really?
A few moments later, Son #3 sheepishly makes his way to my side on the bleachers. He wasn’t really coming to see me, but to check out the two pretty teenage girls next to me. He sat down behind me…
Me: “What the heck, Dude. You feel the need to correct my texts or something?”
#3: “Yeah, Mom. You old people need to get with it.”
Me: “Wow! You just earned yourself very loud country music on the way home.”
#3: “Oh yea? Well, I’ll just turn up the iPod super loud and play the Beastie Boys to fight back!”
He knows how much I hate the Beastie Boys so he often does that to me.
Son #3 slithers off the bleachers but I got a high five on the way out…that’s cool.
I will never know what makes teenagers and tweens think a grown up deserves the label “cool.” That’s okay, I’m happy to bask in it as long as I’m able..
I can live with that.
In the meant time….
I’ll just rotflmao at all their craziness…idk, seems like fun to be a kid these days.
And wth, it’s ok to be cool.
ode to sushi and girls
04 Feb 2008 1 Comment
in feminism, friendship, girlfriends, girls, sushi
I went out for sushi a few nights ago. I love the stuff, but my last fix was so long ago that I had begun to feel like a sushi virgin. A dear friend suggested it and I’m so glad I went! There’s something about the prettiness of the food that makes it taste so much better. Granted, I’ll probably die of mercury poisoning within a week, but it’ll be worth it.
That night out also got me thinking about friendship between women. There is something about hanging out with the girls that makes life so much more tolerable than if we surround ourselves only with our husbands and children. Where else can you talk about your neurotic nature without judgment. Let’s face it; women are all a little nuts about something or other and we all understand that in someone else. Where else can we talk about our bodies (and other people’s bodies) in explicit detail and not feel embarrassed. We’ve all got the same parts and since we’re required to pop out babies and then breast feed, we no longer feel as though our bodies are our own. Our girlfriends “get” that. Women that have had those pleasures simply don’t mind talking about boobs.
Another great positive about hanging out with the girls is that we’re all different. The men we’re married to are so similar to ourselves. (That happens after the first week of marriage). It’s nice to be with someone who you could never live with but yet are willing to spill your guts to.
For example: I am so disorganized and laid back about my living spaces. I haven’t decorated my house in the four years we’ve been here. I haven’t bought new furniture or painted more than one or two walls. Yet, many of my friends live in perfectly coiffed homes and spend time cleaning each day. Not me! We could never live together.
My sushi buddy and I are so alike in so many ways, and so different in others. I am short; she’s tall. I hate exercise; she’s paid to do it. I’m a home body; she travels a lot. I love gardening; she’s not too sure. But…we both like big cars and wearing sweats all day. We both drink too much coffee. We both have drive and desire to succeed. Our sons are interchangable and I’d trust her with mine and she trusts me with hers.
And, we both love sushi.
All women are so much alike and yet so different. We pool our resources and our passions and mingle in this place of total acceptance regardless of who we are and where we’re from. We relish other’s life experiences and ponder over what it would be like to be someone else for a day. We care very deeply for our families and yet we’re all “the worst mother in the world” at one time or another. We all “get it” when no one else can.
We could never live together; but we’d die without each other.
Women in Leadership pt 2.
25 Nov 2007 4 Comments
in Bible, Christianity, discrimination, feminism, religion, Uncategorized, women preacher
So, let’s get back to this for a second. I need to preface this by stating most of what I write is merely opinion and personal thought, not backed by real support. For that, I rely on others who actually have the time to think about it deeply. I don’t spend much time dwelling on this subject as it pertains to the church as a whole. I care about it because it pertains to me as an individual woman and just might affect my life a little. Yes, that’s shallow and selfish. I’m okay with that.
First, we need to differentiate between women in “leadership” and women in “ministry.” Women have been ministers as long as we have recorded church history. Face it, it took a woman to bring Christ to life in human form, didn’t it? In the early church women were part of the gang. In England, the queen was head of state, therefore, head of church on some level. We have deaconesses in our church. (No deacons in sight though which is a little puzzling.) We also have a woman elder. No one yet has called her an “elderess”. Good thing too, it sounds like the name for an itch inducing weed on the forest floor.
I have always imagined the deaconess role in our church to be a little bit of a softer, gentler thing. It takes an amazingly special and patient person for this (and we’ve got two of those). From my limited knowledge, she functions much like the pastor’s wife (no offense, mother) in assuming counseling roles and general relationship building things. Driving people to appointments, visiting the sick, praying with people who need that touch. She also gets to assemble and disassemble the communion table and wash all those silly little plastic cups we use. Wahoo! So, would a deacon do those things? I doubt it. He’d be too busy working out why the toilet in the women’s room downstairs is still “out of order” and other more manly things. Or would he?
Then, there’s our woman elder, who is a wise and wonderful lady. Involving herself with lofty and weighty decisions regarding the church. Voting, alongside the men, on churchy stuff that impact everyone. Along with the deaconesses and the rest of the leadership team, these ladies have just a little bit of influence on what we do.
We also allow a woman to lead worship in our church. She gets to help decide the tone of the whole service and what people will be singing as they leave. That’s a mighty powerful position to be in.
So, why is it so dang hard to take the leap to allowing a woman to preach? Oh, wait….we have had that happen! I forgot about that. It’s not often, but it does occur.
Gosh, now it’s getting more complicated.
I guess the thing we’re really stuck on is not “leadership” but “authority.” Yikes! There’s a big difference there, my friends. Many toes could be trampled if we allowed a woman to actually have authority over all of the aforementioned proceedings.
I don’t know yet what I personally feel is the right thing to do. What I want and what is right are often two entirely different things. Prayerful questioning of God on this one hasn’t actually helped me yet. It has left me more confused. I can’t yet get a clear picture from either my conversations with Him or reading what others think.
I also can’t let go of the feeling that, as somewhat of an opinionated strong-willed woman, to say “no” to women in authority is to shut myself down a little.
So You Say