Dedicated to All the Working Moms

17 May

“It was a dark and stormy night.”  

It really was!  I was in second grade.   My little sister and I bundled up in blankets together on the couch, too afraid to go to our shared bedroom.  Gale winds of about 60 mph roared outside.  From the toy corner, our Lite Brite flashed my house and tree design anytime the electricity flickered.  I freaked me out and I ran into the kitchen to find my mom.  She was leaning against the counter, studying a thick book by the flickering light of our gas burning stove.  She poured me a glass of milk and unplugged the sinister toy.

The next day, we learned that a neighbor in our trailer park lost the roof to her home.  We found the door to our hot water heater in our side yard.  Mom, studier by flame and braver of other-worldly Lite Brites, got out her toolbox and screwed it back into place.  

A year later, she landed a teaching job in Oregon and us three girls moved.

Today, Donna Summer died.  And I’m so sad.  ”She Works Hard for the Money” always reminds me of that night and I always sing it at the top of my lungs.  

This one goes out, not just to my mom, but to all the working moms out there.  

  • To my mother-in-law, Karen, who works as a surgical nurse.  When JP was in grade school, she had to move away from her husband and two sons to find work.  She called home every other night to talk to her boys.  Six months later they were all reunited.  When I asked how she did it, she said she refused to cry on the phone, but after she hung up, that was another story.
  • To my friend, Ali, who put herself through technical school right after having her son.  Her husband’s construction company suffered from the economy and she worked during naps and at night to make ends meet, even when they had to rent out their house and move in with her mother. They are now back in their own home.
  • To my friend, Amy, whose husband lost his job.  He’s now working again, but at a severely reduced wage.  They downsized to an apartment and she went from part-time work to learning a new human resources job and putting in overtime, with three teenagers at home.  Her oldest son just won a full scholarship to ASU.
  • And to my friend, Amber, whose husband also lost his job.  She lost hers just a few months later, right after having her baby.  He’s now back to work, as well, but also at reduced wages.  And while she looks for work, she’s nearly finished her first novel and is building a photography business.

Ladies, this one is for you!  (Check out the dancing conductor.)

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Speaking of Gorgeous, Hello Seattle in Spring

16 May

If so be, you ask me where they do grow?  

I answer, there, where my Julia’s lips do smile;

There’s the land, or cherry-isle.

–Robert Herrick (Cherry-Ripe)

The University of Washing Campus is world renowned for their Yoshino Cherry Trees, purchased in the 1939, but moved onto the UW campus in the 1960s due to construction.  

Here’s the crazy part:  Until MSN ran a few cover photos about cherry blossoms around the world, in which the UW trees made the list along side Japan and Washington DC,  I didn’t know these trees were there, approximately 1.2 miles from my front door!  I know…  sad shake of head.  But hello, field trip.

This shot was taken by my hubs, who just wanted to give my camera a try. Show off…

This one is for Heidi’s Black & White Wednesday.

 

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Well, Hello Gorgeous!

19 Apr

As only the great Barbra can say it, that’s how I felt last week.

The day I expressed my outrage here over the media’s treatment of Ashley Judd, this lil blog became a tad more popular.  Friends posted it on Facebook and tweeted it here and there (thank you, everyone!), and the numbers began climbing.

That afternoon, before I left for the gym, I’d had 60+ visitors, well above my modest but loyal following of 20 or so lovelies.  (Hi Mom!)  Excited, I hoped for breaking 75 or so by that evening.

Side note:  Yes, bloggers care if people read their stuff.  Well, I do, anyways. I’d like you to “like” me, read me and, should I ever finish a novel, buy me.  I like praise.   I like hugs.  And I like kittens.  Ya know, in case you were wondering…

When I came back an hour later, I checked in again, hoping for good news.  I blinked.

“Well, that’s obviously wrong.  Stupid WordPress, now what have they mixed up?”  I turned the browser off and on and reloaded the page.

I blinked again.  The number was higher.

512 hits?

Noooo…  I tried to breathe.  I hit refresh again.  This time, it came in at 538.

I walked slowly to the kitchen, slowly drank a glass of water, and slowly approached the computer again.  In case of hidden cameras, I tried to appear calm, collected.

Refresh.  572.

What’s going on?  I scanned my list of referrers and my heart stopped.  Halfway down the list, I see the words “ashleyjudd.com.”

After 30 seconds of jumping up and down,  I did what any self-respecting girl in her 15-minute brush with fame would do.  I called my mommy.

An hour later, and well into the 700′s, my hubby came home.  After babbling excitedly with both mom and two girlfriends, all of whom loyally jumped right into my jumping frenzy, I felt sure JP would be thrilled too.

He looked at the screen.  He looked at my enthusiastic face.  He said, “That’s nice.”  And then walked into the kitchen, asking over his shoulder what was for dinner.

Ummm, dinner?  Someone in Armenia and several someones in the Philippines clicked on my blog, and you want dinner?  Frustrated, I said something flippant like, “It figures you wouldn’t be excited for me.  You don’t understand,” and stalked off to take a shower.  

Twenty minutes later, I came back, less sweaty, but only slightly less indignant.  I found dinner on the stove.  And a sign hanging from our kitchen doorway.

He understood.

My stats have returned to normal land, but the sign still hangs there and he still jokes about hitting his head against some excitement.  I won’t be taking it down anytime soon.

Thank you to all for visiting!  And especially to those who spoke out against media bullying of “beauty.”  We made a statement!

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