Category: Uncategorized

The S-words

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized8 Comments

There are two words in the English language that when directed at me start my blood boiling, set my teeth on edge and make me want to claw the speaker’s eyes out. Also lots of other cliches, idioms, proverbs and phrases of anger and annoyance. They are:

should

selfish

I have to admit, that my biggest character flaw is that I hate being told what to do. My family will attest that this trait can make me hard to get along with. Sometimes there are things I should do. For example, I just had gum surgery. I should floss more; I should use my Waterpik; I should use my sonic toothbrush; and I should be gentle when I brush. I really should do those things, and I’m making a concerted effort to be better about the hours of oral hygine necessary to accomplish the four shoulds. That said, all of these tasks are palatable because I’m the one saying should.

My husband and I have an annual fight, which we’ve avoided in 2016 for the first time in 20 years. (He finally wised up to the fact that he can control if this fight occurs or not.) Normally a few weeks before New Years he starts making suggestions for OUR resolutions.

“We should pick a room every week and focus on organizing and really cleaning that room.”

“We should plan meals every week.”

“You should figure out something to do to make yourself happy.”

Let me do a quick translation of the above innocuous statements.

“You have too much crap and I can’t organized it without you, so would you mind getting rid of some of this useless stuff so I don’t have to look at it? You are a bad person.”

“I’m tired of the meals you make and you do a bad job grocery shopping. You waste food and our family eats like crap. No wonder you need to lose a few pounds. You are a bad person.”

“Why are you such a grouch? I’m sick of living with a miserable wench. Will you do something about your attitude? You are a bad person.”

See, even writing these I can sense how ridiculous they are, but I can’t help it. The word “should” gets uttered in my direction, even softened by a “we” instead of a “you,” and I go crazy. I can take constructive criticism and people can tell me what to do. I’m old enough now that I can listen, process and appreciate helpful direction, once I have a chance to take a deep breath, squelch my innate aggravation, remind myself that I know I’m not perfect and the person in front of me is trying to be helpful. (Thankfully I’ve had the same manager for years now and we are used to each other’s idiosyncrasies, so performance review time isn’t so bad.) However, all that goes out the window when a “should” is included.  Should is a code word for “there is something wrong with you and I’m finally going to break the bad news to you, but I’m not willing to be part of the solution: you are the problem.”  I despise should.  Yay to a 2016 New Year with no Afthead-shoulds.

Now let’s talk about the other pet-peeve: selfish.  Selfish is a code word for “you live your life differently than I want you to, so I label you as a human being – selfish.”  Thankfully selfish is not a word thrown around as lightly as should, but I can recite for you every single time someone has thrown that arrow in my direction.  Each time, I was not being selfish, but I was making a choice that the other person didn’t agree with.  I wasn’t having children yet.  I was taking advantage of opportunities presented when others didn’t.  I was capitalizing on an opportunity I created.  Sure, I make selfish choices all the time.  I choose to do what is best for me, my family, or my situation instead of optimizing life for someone else.  However, I’m deep enough into this parenting thing to know that you don’t label a person by their actions.  You don’t call someone selfish because they make a choice that appears selfish to you.  Selfishly, I waited until I was 33 to have my daughter, because that was what I needed to do for my family.  Selfishly, I’ll make the most of an opportunity presented if I am the best person to do the job.  I am not a selfish though, and I’ll appreciate you not calling me that.

Let’s turn to Google for a definition, shall we?

selfish
adjective
(of a person, action, or motive) lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one’s own personal profit or pleasure

I can give several examples of my not-selfish qualities: I coach my daughter’s soccer team, I foster kittens, I contribute to charity, I parent, and I manage a team of fabulous people.  Sure, I have self-serving reasons I do all of these things, but none of them is chiefly concerned with my “personal profit or pleasure.”  My profit or my pleasure is an aspect of each of those activities, but it is not the major reason I do them.  However, I accept that some people may not see it that way, and they are welcome to question my motivations, but they are not welcome to call me names.

Words do matter, and many people have hot button words, which unfortunately, you usually don’t realize until you’ve uttered them and felt the over-the-top response crash over you.  Now at least mine are out there in the blogosphere for anyone to read, so when you say “Johanna, you should be less selfish” you’ll understand when my head explodes.  Boom!

New Years Peas

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized3 Comments

As long as I can remember, I have been forced encouraged to eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s day.  My dad is from Texas and this is a tradition he brings to the family.  Not normally the superstitious one, we have a hard time avoiding eating our annual good luck peas.  Even now when I have my own family and my own household, I get the text or call asking if I’ve had my black-eyed peas.

As a child, I remember the peas tasting exactly like dirt.  Sometime the dirt bits were boiled with ham to make them ham-flavored dirt.  Sometimes they were just plain old boiled dirt.  More than once I ate the dirt like it was a pill: no chewing, just swallowing.

Then my dad discovered the black-eyed pea dip.  This year my recipe looked like this:

2 cans of black eyed peas

1/2 onion chopped coarsely

1 can of Rotel tomatoes

1 package of Women’s Bean Project Green Chili Salsa Mix seasoning*

Juice of half a lime

1 Tbsp of water if the dip seems dry

Put everything together in a bowl the morning of New Years Eve.  Let the flavors mingle during the day.  The dip will be tasty by the evening and even tastier by the next day’s celebrations.

Now it’s not the most appetizing looking dip, but trust me, if you have to eat dirt bits, this is the way to do it.  The dirt flavor is hardly noticeable with all the spices and it’s so easy to put together. To be fair, the dip is also helped by the fact that legumes are trendy now, as opposed to when I was a kid.   Our good luck dip was enjoyed at both our New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day parties.  No one had to be coerced to try it…well, except the kids.  None of the kids ate the dirt dip.  Don’t tell my dad….

Happy New Year!

 

*The Woman’s Bean Project is one of my favorite local charities, and they ship all over the United States.  Their mission, according to their website, is “to change women’s lives by providing stepping stones to self-sufficiency through social enterprise.  They train impoverished women how to succeed in the workplace”.  Their food is delicious and every purchase helps a woman move toward a sustainable career.  They have helped 800 women move into personal responsibility.  I recommend the salsa dips, the cornbread, and the split pea soup.  Yum!  You can also order their products on Amazon and Overstock.com, or check their website for local retailers in your area.

Knitting Knew Year

On By aftheadIn Knitting, Uncategorized11 Comments

Oh my blogging friends, I have missed you.  Since December 10th I’ve had gum surgery, had an allergic reaction to my antibiotics, got canker sores at each of the 17 sites I had stitches in my mouth and pulled off the annual miracle we call Christmas.  I have so much to tell you!  There are posts floating around my head about friends, Christmas, books, gum surgery, anniversaries and work.  And so many blogs to read!  I am terribly behind!  So to ease my way out of my no-blogging streak, I’ll start with the knitting I accomplished over the last few weeks.

#1: Headband and fingerless gloves for mom

A few weeks before Christmas mom asked me if I could knit her a headband.  I have a knitting pattern I love for headbands.  I’ve made at least four of them, and they come together in no time.  The pattern is just interesting enough to keep me engaged and it comes together in a flash.

Normally, I’m not a fan of lace or cables in variegated yarn, but there were very important reasons I used this yarn for this project: it was in my stash, it is pretty, and it isn’t itchy.  Both my mom and my daughter have a severe dislike for wool and find things itchy that I think are soft and smooth.  As a knitter, that’s a bummer, but when someone asks you to make one of your favorite knitted projects, you do what you can with what you have on hand and that meant variegated alpaca.  (Especially because I couldn’t drive to the local yarn shop while taking heavy duty painkillers.  However, I could manage to follow lace and cable charts.  Go figure.)

This is my favorite of these headbands I’ve made.  I used a smaller needle (10) and it’s much nicer in a tighter knit: it isn’t so loosy goosey on your head, it’s warmer, and it isn’t as wide across the head as my other ones.  I stitched on an antique button and voila!  Christmas gift finished…. except… there was a decent amount of yarn left.  So, I started hunting on Ravelry for patterns that didn’t need much yarn and could be knit on a size 10 needle.  When I came across these owl fingerless gloves I knew I had my winner.  My mom has given me patterns with these cabled owls on them before, and mentioned her knitting friends making them.  These subliminal hints meant she would love them.  I couldn’t resist!  I was nervous though, because the pattern called for 100 yds of chunky yarn, my skein only had 110 yards to begin with, and I’d already knit a headband.  Feeling braved and doped up, I cast on my first mitt.  I shortened the cuff a bit, and in the end had about three yards of yarn to spare.  Plenty!  I had to go to the craft store on Christmas Eve Eve for the button eyes, and stitched them on just in time.  I’m thrilled with the pattern and the results.  The mitts are soft, pretty, and practical.  My mom loved the set.

#2: Mittens for the kiddo

Feeling inspired after Christmas, and with my mouth still in agony, I picked up my sweater I’ve been working on for a few years and started to work on it.  I cast on the neckline and got that finished, but I’m worried it’s too short and a bit wonky.  Ugh.  Hoping blocking would fix my problem, I started to finish up the sleeves until I was waylaid by a little voice and some big blue eyes saying, “Mommy, would you make me some gloves?”  Well, knowing that my daughter never asks for knitted objects and often turns her nose up at sweaters made out of yarn softer than butter, I seized the opportunity.  However, I don’t love anyone enough to make gloves – all those fingers to get the right size and all those joins, gak – but she was okay with mittens, but with tops.  “Not like Nanna’s mittens.”  Back to the yarn closet, and this time we found two skeins of yarn that met her color and “not itchy” requirements.

One Monday night football game and the one with the thin striped was done.  She tried it on and loved it.  Then I asked, “Do you want them the same, or mismatched?”  I was telepathically sending her “mismatched” vibes, because second mittens are so boring.  My powers must be strong, because she was thrilled with the idea of coordinated mittens.  One day of college bowl games today and the second one was done.


Her nine year old friend dubbed them “Totally cool” this evening so I know they will be worn the rest of the winter.  They could use some blocking, but given how much they’ve already been on her hands they may end up staying a little irregular.  I’d rather have them loved than perfect.

Pay no attention to my messy house in the background.  Did I not mention gum surgery and Christmas?  (Ha ha, just kidding you.  My house is always messy.)

Happy Knew Year!

Wishing you the little things

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized3 Comments

On the eve of Christmas Eve I thank you all for reading my ramblings, and hope you all have a joyful Christmas, if you celebrate, and a couple of awesome days if you don’t.  (Okay, have awesome days even if you do celebrate Christmas.)

Remember to pause and enjoy the little things.  Me?  I stopped to appreciate  4737-4745 on the longest ever hopscotch this morning.  If only I’d had more time, I would have hopped them all.

 
I’ll be back with a vengance on the 26th!  We have so much to talk about.  Gum surgery, traveling stories, knitted objects, and more. I think there may even be a year-of-Afthead celebration to occur.  

Enjoy the little things!

Afthead Hannukah 

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized2 Comments

I’ve finally recovered enough from my gum surgery to post again.  Thank goodness, because I almost missed blogging about Hannukah!  

Mr. Afthead and our daughter lit the candles before leaving to watch the University of Denver hockey game tonight.  (I wasn’t invited because I’ve yet to stay awake past 9:00 since Thursday’s surgery). We don’t do any presents for Hannukah, so the tradition is just about lighting the candles.  Mr. Afthead’s father is Jewish, so we aren’t:  Judaism is passed on through the mother’s side.  Our celebration is cultural and not religious.  As someone who didn’t grow up with this celebration, I have grown to love the moments of quiet calm for eight nights during this busy season.  

It’s also a touch point every year to measure how much my daughter has grown: this year she can light the candles from the middle candle, the shamash, and recite the prayer herself, in Hebrew.  By next year she may be able to even light the shamash herself.  

Happy Hannukah to any of you who celebrate and happy holidays to everyone from the Afthead family!

Why am I so angry?

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized12 Comments

I have two big fears in life: broken glass and dentists.  If you were at my house for dinner and shattered your glass to bits on my floor, I’d likely tell you it was no problem and move everyone out of the way so I could sweep up the shards of glass like a normal person.  When you left, I’d start my obsessive routine, vigilantly seeking out every foot-embedding tiny invisible knife.  I’d sweep, and vacuum, and mop and vacuum again.  Even with all that, I’d find a lone sliver somewhere in the coming days while I walked through my house in shoes, because I know those evil glass bits are lurking.  My glass fear is one that I can hide from all but my closest relations.

My dentist fear is a whole different level of fear.   I have fainted dead away twice in my life: both at dentist offices.  I have been known to sit in my car and put my head down after an appointment so I don’t faint on the drive home.  I have had 7 crowns, 2 root canals, more fillings than I have teeth and my wisdom teeth out.  The fear that proceeded all of those pales to my current fear:  gum surgery.

It’s a simple surgery.  It’s a graft on one tooth.  I’ll be fine.  I know this in my logical brain.  My emotional brain?  Well, when I went to visit the nice gum doctor and he pulled out his notebook of gum surgery before and after pictures I did not faint and I did not vomit, which I was proud of.  However, when the nice man finished with his horror show of gum pictures and asked me if I had any questions I looked at him, took a deep breath, and burst out crying.  He looked at me like I had leprosy.

See, the dentist fear isn’t controllable.  It makes me faint and cry in public.  This appointment, the one where I learned I was having gum surgery, it was a month ago.  A month I have been dreading the surgery.  A month I’ve been having nightmares about what is going to happen.  A month of seeing his folder of surgical details looking at me.   A month of planning logistics.  My favorite, is that I have to have someone drive me because of my “pre-medication” and the instructions say in bold, “Do not take a taxi while taking your pre-medication.”  This little tidbit might be the only thing keeping me sane.  Is a bus okay?  What about Uber?  A train?  I mean, I can’t drive and in bold cannot take a taxi, but no other forms of transportation are discussed.

So, why am I grouchy?  Because I deal with this kind of irrational fear for a week or two, but after a month  my edges are raw.  I can’t take in any more.  Anything can send me into a tailspin: my daughter asking for an iPad from Santa, my husband lecturing me on her lack of after school activities, deciding if we should order Christmas cards, and holiday family budget discussions.  All of those have sent me into a tailspin.  I have explained my craziness to my husband, but somehow he is incapable of turning off normal topics of conversation this week.  He can’t stop himself from asking, on a lunch date, if I really need him home on Friday, because he’s really busy at work right now.

Last night?  I dreamed I bled out and my family came home to find me dead because I was left alone after gum surgery.  Lordy.  I need to get this procedure over with so I don’t lose my mind.  I’m dreading Thursday, but it can’t come soon enough for the Aftheads.

Spoiled Rotten?

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized16 Comments

My daughter is an only child.  My husband and I chose to have just one.  We made that decision for a host of reasons including:

  1. We want to be as involved as possible in her life, while still both working and maintaining our own lives.
  2. We wanted to be able to experience her life together, rather than the divide and conquer method.
  3. I am a crazy tree-hugger and know the impact each additional person has on this earth.
  4. Having kids is a crap shoot.  Heck, life is a crap shoot.  We had one healthy kid and that’s a miracle and amazing.  I don’t need to roll the dice again.

I could go on and on, but I’m not trying to convince  you or anyone else that we made the right decision.  We made the right decision for our family.  Most days I’m really happy with the size and makeup of our family.  Do I worry about our decision?  Of course.  I’m a parent.  I worry.  That’s what I do.

  1. I worry that she’s going to be some kind of social misfit because she doesn’t have the influence of another kid at home to learn from.
  2. I worry that our holidays and traditions are boring and lame because there is just one kid.  Christmas morning has to be more magical the more kids you have, provided that you have the means for those kids, right?
  3. My daughter won’t play a sport, take a class, or do much of anything without a friend.  A sibling would provide a built in other person to hang out with.  I worry that she’s missing out on opportunities because she won’t do things alone.
  4. I’m afraid she’s spoiled rotten and a spoiled brat.

Trust me.  I worry about #4.  It is the thing about only children, isn’t it?   Spoiled is the stereotype. Well that and weird, but I believe in my heart of hearts that every single human being on this earth is weird.  My kid would be weird no matter what.  She’s just a different weird then she would be if she had a sibling.

But I digress.  Only children are spoiled.  They get everything they want.  They don’t have to learn how to share.  Their parents dote endlessly on them.  Their parents helicopter them to no end because there is no other child to focus on.

Do I spoil my daughter?  I don’t have multiple kids to make life fair for.  We need a new family laptop?  I give her the old one so she has her own computer.  If I had two kids they’d have to share that computer.  She looses her gloves at school?  I gripe, but just get a new pair.  We are fiscally conservative and I can afford a new pair.  I’m more annoyed about the time it takes for me to buy her the new pair.  My husband and I coached her soccer team together.  Both of us took hours out of our week to coach our only child.  I’d say that spoiled her, but she hated it, so probably not.

My daughter is an individual though.  She is like her dad.  She doesn’t really want stuff.  Her list to Santa this year consists of the following:

  1. Tic tacs, orange.
  2. Rocks
  3. Notebook
  4. Beanie Boo
  5. Magic Set
  6. Broncos Jersey

What an amazing list.  So reasonable, especially when split between Santa, Mom, Dad, Grandma, Papa, Nanna, Grandpa and the two aunts and uncles who buy for her.  Oh but wait.  There are two other items, and that’s where the problem comes in.

  1. iPad
  2. Dash and Dot robots

My daughter wants the same setup she has in her STEM lab at school so she can program robots at home.  This, my friends, is when the “OH MY KID IS SPOILED” freakout starts.  It goes like this:

  • Mom voice: She wants to program robots.  That’s so cool.  I was a programmer, so maybe she wants to grow up and be like me.  That would be a great career for her.
  • Head voice: WHO THE HELL GETS AN IPOD FOR THEIR KID FOR CHRISTMAS?  Only the parent of a spoiled brat only child.  That’s who!
  • Mom voice: Whoa.  We don’t even have an iPad.  She uses them at school.  It could be a family present.  In this day and age it isn’t that extravagant for a family to have an iPad.
  • Head voice: SHE IS NEVER GOING TO LEARN THE VALUE OF THINGS IF SHE GETS EVERYTHING SHE WANTS!  WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING HER IF SHE GETS EVERYTHING ON HER CHRISTMAS LIST?  ISN’T IT IMPORTANT FOR HER TO LEARN DISAPPOINTMENT?!?!
  • Mom voice: There are eight things on her list.  She doesn’t ask for that much.  She’s a good kid.  She’s generous and caring and a good friend.  Stop freaking out.
  • Head voice:  SHE’S GOING TO BE A SERIAL KILLER!!!

Forever some reason, my worst case parenting scenario always ends with serial killer.  As much as I know that some of this worry is self inflicted, there is also a weird societal side of this craziness.  Today, we were at Michaels buying craft supplies for our annual “kids make holiday presents party.”  My well spoken confident daughter was explaining to the checkout person that we were having a party so she and her friends could make presents for their parents and siblings.

The man asked her, “How many siblings do you have?”

She replied, “None, I’m an only child.”

“Well, I bet you are spoiled rotten.”

I yammered something about how no she wasn’t spoiled rotten that she had a cousin and some second cousins and no I’m not a bad mom and I really have good reasons for only having one child and I’m going to write a blog post about this you creep.  (Actually, I stopped after the strange cousin justification.)  He went on to tell me that he was one of fourteen kids and that his wife was an only child.  We pretended it was totally normal that he’d called my kid “spoiled rotten.”

So let me just state here my kid is not spoiled rotten.  According to Google the definition of spoil is:

spoil
verb
harm the character of (a child) by being too lenient or indulgent.
“the last thing I want to do is spoil Thomas”
Okay.  I can be lenient.  I can be indulgent.  However, not to the extent that I am not harming my child.  (Head voice: Well, maybe I am.  I mean would I really know if she was being harmed?)
Shut up head voice!  Okay, am pretty sure I am no harming my child, and I know she is not rotten.  She is a sweet kid who, as I was blogging this, came and slipped a finger knit necklace around my neck.  She is teaching her new friend how to finger knit so she can make a necklace for her mom.  She is not rotten.
Head voice: But will she become rotten if I get her an iPad?!?  Will that be the last straw?  What if the iPad makes her a serial killer???
Sigh.  Stupid head voice.

Winter Rainbow?

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized9 Comments

Yes, I know.  I said I was going to take today off, but there was a rainbow in the clouds this morning.  A rainbow when it was 20 degrees out and not raining.  It is a nature mystery that I had to share.  

Anyone know what this meteorological phenomena is called?  Google is failing me.  

Let’s hear it for the goals!

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized8 Comments

30 posts in 30 days.  Done.  I blogged everyday in November, except one and I posted two the next day to make for the missed day.  I posted silly haiku, opinions, and a tribute to an inch tall Santa.  I told the story of my foster cats and shared my blog on Facebook for the first time so my shelter friends could read my post.  Tomorrow I’ll look at stats and do some analysis to see what worked and what didn’t.

I am proud of myself.  Normally I’m not a goal setter;  I break my New Years resolutions by January 5th.  But I stuck with this.  I learned that my fiction suffers when I write all the time, because it is hard to be thoughtful on a deadline and my fiction needs thought.  I have a 5-6 part serial short piece that I’d planned on posting this month, but I never got to it.  December will be the month of fiction.  I learned that I can produce whimsy on the fly, and sorrow.  I learned that I can write really long posts on my smartphone there are  I other options.  (Argh!  I never wrote the “forgotten backpack” post.  Putting it on the list.)  I learned that my blog reading suffers when I write every day, and I miss reading what you all write. I met some great new blogging colleagues this month and look forward to reading more from them.  

Thanks to those who read along and congrats to those who wrote with me.  Pat yourselves on the back and don’t be a stranger in December!

We shoot people here

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized10 Comments

Where I live we kill people with guns.  On average our state is highlighted in the national news every four years, but the shootings are more frequent as of late: before this week, the last one was two years ago.  We kill people at school, at the movies, and at the doctor’s office.  Really ordinary places where you don’t expect to get shot, but in Colorado, that’s what happens.

These places aren’t in the bad part of town.  They aren’t the shootings we dismiss because they happen to poor people.  They happen in wealthy suburbs, near college campuses, and just down the street from our airport.  They are all nice places to have your life unexpectedly ended.

Perhaps we should change our state motto from the Latin Nil Sine Numine (nothing without Providence) to Nil Sine Caedis (nothing without slaughter).  I’m not a Latin expert, so there might be a better phrase to use, but I think it’s important to prepare our visitors and residents to be gunned down at the dentist, the shopping mall, or at school – normal ordinary places.

I spent the years before I decided to have a baby getting my annual exams from Rocky Mountain Planned Parenthood.  Not the one in Colorado Springs, but one in my home town.  I swam and debated at Arapahoe High School.  Every time I come home from the airport I drive past the movie theater where people were shot for watching Batman.  I’ve got a friend who went to high school with Harris and Klebold.  It’s hard to live in our beautiful state and not have a connection to a shooting, because we shoot people here every so often.

According to our official website the name of our state, Colorado, “has its origin in the Spanish language, as the word for ‘colored red’.”  That seems an appropriate first acknowledgement of the blood that spills here every few years.

Where I live we kill people with guns.