Hacked

Yesterday, I wrote a post for Grace the Spot about e-mail inboxes and proposed a little game in which you take the most recent 10 e-mails that you received and see what they say about you. Go check it out here! Today, my inbox really doesn't reflect anything about me because it's filled with e-mails from friends and family talking about erectile dysfunction. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Vikki, why are your friends and family cuckoo for cock?" Well, it appears that our account was hacked and sent Viagra spam to all of the contacts in our address book. That's right folks - our account sent out hundreds of e-mails to people offering to hook them up with some fine Canadian Viagra. Did I mention that I had many, many school contacts in there from various volunteer stuff I've done? Yeah, well I did. I can only imagine how many Lake Country parents are sitting around tonight thinking, "Huh. Who knew? I thought they were lesbians." So, if you got spam from me - I apologize. Please know that if I was going to give you something from Canada, I would give you a maple leaf...or a moose...or a hockey team...or some civil rights! I can't really give you any of those things but I can give you Canadian Lesbo Twins!

Alligator from Tegan and Sara on Vimeo.

I am so ready for vacation.

Wax On

When Miguel was young, he came to us and asked us to enroll him in a martial arts class and we said, "no". Luisa felt that learning to kick and punch efficiently might not be the best activity for a child who struggles with impulsivity and my reason? Well, my reason was simple - he was a boy and I didn't want that kind of boy. I pictured my son as that macho blonde kid in Karate Kid that makes Ralph Macchio's character miserable. We said "no" numerous time over the years and never provided much of an explanation to him. Ours was the word on high, not to be questioned. The answer was no. Just no. This past fall, Zeca came to us and asked to do martial arts and we were thrilled with the idea. I relished the thought of my girl kickin' some ass and we signed her up for classes. Looking back, I'm surprised that Miguel said nothing because he is pretty big on righteous indignation.  But, he was quiet until Zeca earned her orange belt. Then, he came to us and he begged. He told us that he would commit to it, that he would never complain about going to class, that he would listen to us and respect us and do whatever we asked of him if we would just let him do martial arts and I looked into his eyes and realized what a horrible mistake we had made. Luisa's concerns were real but mine were not. I had failed to see him as the person he is and saw him only as the person I was afraid he might become.

We all make mistakes. We know this intellectually and can easily discuss our mistakes from that perspective. We talk about our humanity, about our flaws, about the unrealistic expectations of perfection. I'm an expert at talking about my mistakes but having children has forced me to feel the impact of those mistakes. We as parents have so much power. Sometimes, we use it well. Sometimes, we don't. Sometimes, we exert our control without much thought at all. I have made decisions that hurt my children and I can't unmake those decisions or erase that hurt. I can, however, take responsibility for them. I can admit when I am wrong - I must admit when I am wrong. And, when words are not enough, I must be willing to do more.

Blah Blah Blah

It's rainy and gray here today, a good day for writing music or reading a book or sleeping. I'm not doing any of those things, though. I'm working from home but find myself wandering through the house aimlessly, pondering all the things I could do rather than plowing through the things I should do. I haven't been terribly productive lately. I should have finished the laundry yesterday but I downloaded karoake versions of Lady GaGa songs instead.

I should have done some writing last night but I colored sugar instead. I didn't even know this was possible until my faithful friend, The Internet, showed me the way.

I should clean the gerbil cage tonight but I will, most likely, photograph peeps instead.

All that stuff in italics I wrote earlier today. I couldn't even finish a blog post! Today, unable to face having to wash an extra dish, I ate leftover enchiladas from the pan. From the freakin' pan, people! That is so wrong on so many levels. Next thing you know, I'll be drinking milk out of the carton and wiping my mouth on my sleeve. Rather than dwell on all that I haven't done, I've decided to recount what I have done in the past few days to see if it makes me feel better. I have fed and watered the children. I ran them all over town. I wrote this for Grace the Spot. I learned to color sugar which I find very exciting but Miguel gives only a 1 on the excitement scale. I put a load of sheets in the wash (I haven't put them in the dryer but we're not dwelling, NOT dwelling!). I took out the recycling. I washed 4, 016 dirty dishes. I vacuumed and picked up the house. I also worked. Oh...and I wrote this very horrible blog post! Hey...I am feeling a little bit better - I did do some things. 

So, I'm calling it a day and hoping that this post helped clear the way for more creative and thoughtful posts to come.