Domestic Psychology

Not my cup of tea

Embarrassed this happened in TN:

“Eavesdropping on the Pajamas Media livestream is interesting stuff.

Bridget Geegan Blanton of Smart Girl Media was just asked how she handles those awkward moments when she’s volunteering at a voter registration drive and a Democrat tries to register to vote with her.

“The law requires me to give (a voter registration form) to anyone who asks for it,” she said. “But I’m not legally obligated to mail it in.”

In any case, she said, Democrats shouldn’t approach her booth in the first place. She signals her intentions by hanging an American flag before every event. “That should tell them whose side I’m on.”

h/t KnoxViews

Lost & Found

At the end and beginning of every school year, a list of volunteer opportunities comes home with every child. Sometimes, the job duties are obvious and you instantly know if it’s something you feel qualified to do. Treasurer? I think we’ll let a CPA do that job. Parliamentarian? I’m pretty confidant that there are some parents with legal training who would do that much better than I could. Other times, the job isn’t completely clear. Cafeteria? Umm, cut off crusts and open milk cartons? Grounds? Lawn mowing and floor mopping? I have worn many different hats at schools, but I think my favorite at the elementary school is this year’s job, Lost & Found.

I confess that I thought the job would be getting lost items reunited with their owners. Only ONCE have I truly helped someone find a missing belonging. There are also the less than a dozen items labeled with names that I send to the office for redistribution to students. The job is really to empty the Lost & Found nook at the end of every month. I fill two to four lawn sized trash bags with coats, jackets, mittens, hats, lunchboxes and various odd items. I wash them all and donate them somewhere. That’s it. Lost & Found is really Laundry & Charity. This is the best volunteer job ever.

So far this year, I have donated to Goodwill, Saving Little Hearts, Christenberry Elementary and two others that I can’t seem to remember. This month I ran out of big shopping bags that I had saved from Christmas shopping and I didn’t know how I was going to send the mountain of coats, hats and mittens to Christenberry. Chris at Kohl’s on Morrell kindly donated enough brand new bags to last through the end of the year. The awesomeness of this job never ends. The ONLY thing that even slightly tasks my brain? Choosing who will get the next month’s “new-to-you” jackets. I know the fundraiser committees need people to get dropped in dunk tanks and the carpool committees need people standing in the rain at way-too-early o’clock, but trust me when I tell you that you want to work on the Lost & Found at your school. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.

Now about that end of Eighth Grade Party . . .

my third boob

Remember when I demonstrated my special sense of coordination at the end of December? I pretty much avoided touching my bruised knees for a week or so and then I completely forgot about them after I burned my face with a flattening iron. A few weeks ago, my left knee felt hot and when I rubbed it, it felt . . . odd. It felt like my knee had a breast implant. Well, I’ve never actually touched an artificial breast, but I’m pretty sure that it would feel something like my knee felt.

I did what I usually do when I have a boo-boo. I waited for it to go away on its’ own. Unfortunately, instead of shrinking, my knee boob ached and the lump that was still visible through my jeans made the dreaded panty line seem desirable. On a less vain note, the knee boob made kneeling excruciatingly painful and this caused the twice daily Lego/Playmobile disaster cleanup to take much longer than it should have taken. Eventually, I showed Doug my knee boob and after gagging, he made a doctor appointment for me.

I prepared for the appointment by digging a dust covered skirt out of the closet in an effort to avoid the need to disrobe at the doctor’s office. I enjoyed the dry humor of my doctor and his nurse’s seemingly unwitting role as the straight man for his jokes. I tweeted nervously while they noisily prepared for their highly scientific plan to “drain it and see what’s in there.” I didn’t make a sound when the doctor numbed my knee with super unpleasant needle sticks. I made casual small talk as the doctor readied the syringe with a needle the size of a coffee stirrer. As the words “expect clear liquid” left his lips and blood filled the turkey baster, I sat calmly.

I was the poster child for good patient until the doctor’s soothing voice explaining the inner workings of my knee started to bounce about my head like a moth in a ceiling light. At the same time that I found myself unable to focus on his words, I felt the room spinning and had to instantly decide if I should ignore the symptoms of what was coming next and risk falling off the exam table or announce my weeny-hood. I chose the latter. The doctor acted like he’d lost a bet. “I would have seen it coming if you weren’t wearing lipstick.” I leaned back as the doctor and nurse grabbed my ankles and hoisted them up in the air. At that moment, my clever skirt plan failed me completely. I was walked out of the exam room by a tiny nurse and handed to a husband just like every other 70-year-old in the building.

I started my day with three boobs and ended it as a senior citizen.

Dear Harold Ford Jr,

This didn’t help.

pink and blue

LOST thoughts

Finally! After the world’s longest hiatus, LOST is back. The final season promos have been almost entirely composed of scenes from previous episodes. There was ONE shot of a familiar character in a brand new scenario, but that disappeared quickly, so I don’t think we’re supposed to have seen it. It changes that particular character’s group on the island and adds credence to some popular theories about the less explained characters. Today, we got something old and something new. Click here only if you want to see it, but be warned that I am going to talk about it now. If you don’t want to know, stop reading.

Did you watch the last part twice to check the background? Did you read the first few comments? Notice the authenticity of the source? So, my initial reaction was that it’s a tease. A dream or imaginary scenario of what Jack thought was going to happen. This was immediately followed by a disbelief that the show has any time left to waste on dream realities, the history of Jack’s tattoos or Nikki and Paulo. Besides, Jack smugly enjoying his triumph is also the end of Rose’s happily ever after.

My guess for now is going to be that what we saw the very first episode of LOST, was not the very first time that has happened. We just jumped in to watch the latest round of an ongoing game. A game with characters that learn and react differently each time. The latest round may have some of the characters on a plane, but they are still on the board and very much in play. Maybe this season will be the one that finally resolves the game. Maybe I am completely wrong. The show’s creators have promised that at the end of this episode, we will have all the clues needed to understand the big picture and see the finish line. I take that to mean that I will spend Tuesday night formulating a new theory instead of sleeping.

Tuesday night, I won’t be able to start watching until the children are all tucked in bed. That means I’ll be an hour behind everyone else. In anticipation of your live blogging/tweeting/facebooking, I’ll have to power down the computer until I’ve seen the entire LA X. When I return to the computer, I expect several declarations that people have “figured it all out” as well as a lot of confused and frustrated viewers. I plan to be completely entertained and amused for the last section of the LOST roller coaster. Well, unless the show echoes a pessimistic, apocalyptic Cloverfield ending. If that happens, you’ll be watching a video of me burning the series DVDs that we own. I don’t think that’s the direction it’s going. I expect LOST to end with a very open-to-interpretation finale that will keep everyone talking and wondering.

late night snowball fight

snow day

I know that it is 2:10 in the afternoon and the roads and skies are clear. School could have released one hour early instead of being closed the entire day. However, the looks on faces when school was canceled last night, were absolutely priceless. Sparkling eyes and contagious giggles electrified the air. There was even a little happy dance. I think the joy outweighs the risk of running out of allotted snow days. The giggling, dancing teachers clearly needed an unscheduled play day.

keep them behind a locked gate

After meeting opposition at every proposed site, the plan to create permanent supportive housing for the chronically homeless all over Knox County has ended where so many wanted it to be, Lakeshore. Pessimistic voices argue that this keeps the mentally ill homeless near mental health services. Optimistic voices argue that Lakeshore is lovely and one of their favorite places to go for a walk. How many of those voices have ever been inside the locked buildings at Lakeshore? How many had no idea there are still patients at Lakeshore? How many understand that Lakeshore is not an out-patient medical center, but a crisis stabilization facility? How can they miss all the news reports that identify Lakeshore as the forensic facility for people whose dangerous crimes may have been connected to personal illness?

Do I take my children to the trails at Lakeshore? Of course I do. The difference is that those buildings with locked doors aren’t invisible to me. I am constantly aware of their presence and the seriously ill people inside them. People who are struggling to survive. People in very real pain. People who have been victimized by their extreme vulnerability. Human beings in locked rooms, in locked buildings, behind locked gates. Lakeshore is a hospital and no matter how much they have to sell their land to stay in business for the people who desperately need care, it is still a place where sick people go to get better.

Is permanent supportive housing a place for people with special needs who lack the support systems needed to fully function in society? If so, why isn’t it being put in neighborhoods with other people? Group homes belong among other homes. Apartments cluster with other multi-family housing facilities. Where are the other families living at Lakeshore? They are not there. Where can the PSH residents go when they need a cup of sugar? Shall they knock on the hospital door? Even the Lakeshore chapel was sold to make additional parking for soccer moms. That’s not a community. It’s a business. It’s not a business that will hire them though.

Oh, ha-ha Cathy. You’re so stupid to claim Lakeshore is not a community. Look at all the people walking their dogs and watching children play soccer. If a crowd of strangers decided to let their dogs poop on my street, they would not make this a community. Community is the all of the neighbors who know each other. Community is the ability to walk next door for a cup of milk or collect a neighbor’s mail when they are on vacation. Community is knowing that everyone in this neighborhood recognizes my children and keeps an eye on what they are doing just as I know and watch over their children. Community is not a place surrounded by gates and designed for lock-down protocol. Not gates to keep the scary out, but gates to control the residents and keep them inside the facility. Gates to keep the mentally ill and now the homeless out of sight and out of mind.

The people who don’t want this site discussed because they think this is the issue that will put someone in or keep someone out of the mayoral office are helping nobody. Constant media attention has made politicians completely ineffective people whose primary goal is their next elected office. The only decision politicians make that isn’t based solely on campaigning are the ones they make when they take off their britches. I know that the League of Women Voters could revoke my membership for saying that, but I suspect they recognize frustration and aggravation as the predecessors to focus and motivation.

Can I have a fill-in-the-blank?

“Mom, can I have a clubhouse.”
<- insert tape #492 -> “Well, maybe this summer your dad can build something…”
“No, I mean a real clubhouse. Like in Up.”
<- blink, blink -> “Where?”
“Me and C are gonna make the empty house down the street our clubhouse.”
“No, you’re not. That house belongs to someone. You can’t go in there.”
“Nobody lives there. Nobody has ever lived there.”
“Someone did live there before you were born, but that house is still someone else’s house.”
“Well, they’re not using it. I think they lost it.”
“You might be right, but you still can’t play in it.”
<- sigh -> “Now we hafta find another clubhouse.”