Really

My 18 year old is a great kid, really! He handles his own schedule at school, serves at church, has a great group of friends. Josh is a loving big brother, is always willing to lend a hand, cares deeply about people. This boy is always studying and learning wayyyy beyond the scope of what is required for school. He's reliable and fun to be around. And Hot! The kid has a body that just won't stop, got his braces off recently (did I mention he helped pay for them) and he has blue eyes, longer brown hair and wears a bandanna. As a headband. Everyday.

Uhh..bandanna and long hair? Not what I pictured when I wrote the storybook of his life; but, considering that his father wore overalls to high school. Yep! Overalls over a hoodie no-less. So yeah! I'm OK with long hair and a bandanna. Even the pink one. Mostly.

Now, our church prefers the clean cut look. Most everyone knows what a Mormon Missionary looks like, short hair, white shirt, tie. Preferred look, fine with me, I'm also fine with the NO alcohol/tobacco/drugs rule, NO pre-marital sex, No lying, stealing, cheating,and sassing your momma rules. But, lets face it, all these rules are only effective if he makes the choice; his Dad and I can teach the benefits and pitfalls of keeping or ignoring rules but ultimately it's up to him.

And, as I've mentioned he's making amazing choices. But, alas the long hair.

Last year as his older brother Jacob was preparing for a mission, Josh was Mr. Clean cut and was really hard on his big brother for having a longer hair style. Then something changed, Josh refused haircuts and stood up for his brother saying he thought Jacob should be able to wear his hair however he wanted until his 2 year church mission began. Jacob left and Joshua continued to grow his hair and began to get harassed, by people at church and in the community mostly in the form of teasing lots of it.

One day a few months ago I asked Josh what had changed Mr.Clean Cut into a bandanna wearing Hippie. He explained that he found himself judging his big brother, who, like him, was following all the rules except the hair suggestion. He realized that judging another for the choices they make is a greater sin then the breaking of the rule and chose to overcome his judgmental nature by creating the same experience for himself. Walking past the barbers chair in his brothers moccasins, so to speak.


Yesterday as I went through the mail I came across a letter addressed to, Mr. Joshua Smith. Inside were a picture cut from the Newspaper of two returning missionaries and a picture printed from a police record site of a long haired criminal, carefully selected to have hair close to the same style as Joshua's, and a letter that went something like this:

Joshua,

Look at these two pictures which one represents the values you hold dear. Your example has led to half the boys your age choosing a long hair style. You are not following church leaders and need to set a better example.

A Friend

Actually it was much more harshly worded and left the impression that Joshua was choosing the lifestyle of a hardened criminal because of the length of his hair.

I was livid!

Joshua read the letter then responded to my fuming by relating this story. Two Buddhist Monks came to a river crossing. A woman, also at the crossing but unable to cross on her own, was picked up and carried by one of the Monks across the river. The Monks continued on their way, after traveling several miles one stopped, turned angrily to his companion and said, "Brother, I am unable to continue with out letting you know my feelings. The monks voice rose as he corrected his companion, "We have strict rules governing our conduct, rules that allow us to be our best, serve most effectively and protect us from a lower way of life. One of those rules forbids us to have any physical contact with a woman. You have broken this rule and I must, as your brother, point out this sin."

The other replied, "Brother, I put down the woman many miles ago, you have carried her all this way."

"Mom, sometimes we get so caught up keeping the rules that we forget the purpose of the rules. I am learning from this experience how judgmental and condemning of others I have been and still am. Put it down it's OK!"

Well, shut my face!

I told you he was a great kid.

And, "Friend". Really?

Because Someone Asked

I'm updating because someone asked. It's not my fault.

I could also be avoiding some other projects that really need to get done...possibly.

I attended Life the Universe and Everything last weekend. Thanks Mark for the invitation. LTUE is a conference for fantasy fiction writers and illustrators. Despite knowing this I was still a little shocked when the First Contact panel was about Alien/Human contact. Let's just say, "A couple of the attendees were likely writing Auto-biographical not fictional accounts."

Lets see, the Killer Breakfast, (I'm told it was my first Dungeons and Dragons session, booyah!) was great fun! And, I was reminded that it has been a REALLY long time since high school writing classes. Reminders of Story Arcs and Characterization and How to Draw Really Great Under Sea Creatures were not only a good review but, encouraging coming from actually published authors and artists.

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Last night was the Blue and Gold Banquet for Cub Scouts. I'm kinda into Cub Scouts, shocking, I know. Waking up to help a 9 year old and an 8 year old make a cake each and making sure 6 year old felt included by allowing him to squirt water into the humongous tub of Homemade Root Beer we were bringing was delightful indeed. As a bonus I got to mop my floors, always a joy! The night turned out well, way to go, paulbrowning, a mighty Cub Master and why weren't you at LTUE, I saw no illustrations finer than yours. Did I mention I got out of cooking dinner?

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I'm going to have to start running each day if the next task on my "Balls" quest is going to work out. I'm pretty sure the 4 walks I managed to walk in February will prove to be little deterrent to the aching muscles and huffing/puffing that is to come. I am determined though!

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Help! The fridge is empty again and the cupboards are barren? One little Three-Day-Weekend and it's like an Egyptian Locust Plague.

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And, battery is dying the torment is over!

What a Sweetheart

In honor of Valentines day I thought I'd share a couple Adorable Hubby moments. I've picked up some extra shifts in February. We could really use the additional fundage but nine nights of 9PM to 7AM is tough. Almost as tough as trying to fall to sleep all alone and freezing cold in my semi-dark bedroom.

This past week when I got home, all the boys were ready to go to school and our bed was made with my side folded down and a couple of heated corn bags for my feet. What a sweetie.

Adorable Hubby is always doing thoughtful little things like that.

Yesterday at the end of my shower I took down the shower curtain and threw it away, shudder! Disgusting, but not nearly as bad as the toilet.

Adorable Hubby and I ran some errands, including buying a new shower curtain then, as we were headed home, he said, "For your Valentines gift how about if I clean the toilet for you." Ahhh the sweetness.

15 minutes later I walked in the bathroom to see Adorable Hubby, scrubber in hand, up to his elbow in toilet water...ACKKKKK!

I'm pretty sure that he's gonna want me to hold that hand at some point this Valentines weekend. He'll maybe even use that hand to brush a lock of hair out of my eyes then tenderly cup my cheek as he gently kisses me...

Classifieds

Tonight #3 chucked a Swiss Army Wallet tin at either Adorable Hubby or #2, I don't think he really cared who he hit, nor do I think he had a good reason to chuck it. Boys just throw stuff.

Unfortunately for him Adorable Hubby, who was a paper boy for many years, caught it and chucked it back at #3 who turned sideways and took the dead on accurate hit to the shoulder. Thus began a discussion of skills acquired as a newspaper boy.

Remember newspapers? They used to be delivered by cute neighborhood boys to your porch or roof or driveway. Your dad used to read the Headlines, then the Editorial page, followed by a discussion with your mom about the idiot opinions of some people and then, if you were lucky, he would read the Funnies hand them to your mom to read and then you got them. If you we're like me you made do with the classified adds (specifically the Personals, always great entertainment, and possibly the Lost pets column on a big news and opinions day) until those treasured Funnies were finally available.

For twenty years of married life, Adorable Hubby and I have never got the paper. I should get one for the coupons but knowing myself, well... Adorable Hubby knowing myself, that is just another well intentioned stack waiting for me to get too. We DO NOT need another one of those.

I do, however, really need to take out a classified.

You see, I have decided to quit fighting to change my sleeping pattern from days to nights every seven days. I've always been a bit of a night owl so, instead of trying unsuccessfully to adjust I'm just going to stay up until 2:30 AM on the weeks I don't work then I'll sleep in until 11:30AM. Now that I've grown accustomed to the embarrassment of hearing the boys tell random strangers at the door and on the phone that I'm still asleep in the middle of the day, it should all work out.

But, nights get lonely. I need a night owl friend.

I'm working on my add, not sure whether to place it in the Help Wanted, Personal, or Missing Pets section.

Wanted: Night time friend. Should enjoy mid-night movies and re-runs of Law And Order SVU. Be available for trips to Wal-Mart and all night drug stores. Toilet cleaning skills are a must. Good listener. Sense of humor. Daily bathing and teeth brushing required(just in case homeless people still use newspapers for warmth). Laundry skills not required but helpful. Knowledge of local all-night establishments is essential. Interviews conducted every other 7 nights at Blockbuster video on center street.

And speaking of classifieds, remember The Pina Colada Song? "...If you like Pina Coladas, getting caught in the rain. If you're not into yoga, if you have half-a-brain. If you like making love at midnight with two dudes and a cake..."

Turns out there aren't two dudes and a cake involved. I'm a little sad about that, Adorable Hubby is still laughing.

Word Of The Year

So today while making Chicken, Vegetable Tortellini soup, and doing the dishes and making snowmen cookies that, sadly, looked nothing like I'd pictured and only slightly resembled snowmen, I thought of my word for the year.

Two years ago, "light" worked out well I was able to cast a lot of light on some dark beliefs that had kept me trapped in, well, the dark

Then last year was, "experience". Yay me! I learned how to spell it and I learned a lot about experience. My feelings/learning's are best summarized here.

I have spent all of January trying to find just the right word, a word that will give me the courage to step into the light, experience without fear and walk joyfully through the next half of my life a changed woman.

Drummmmm, rollllllll!

My word for 2011 is BALLS, as in, time to grow a pair and do some stuff.

I'm off to a good start, I signed up for a writers conference in February.

I am registering for a 10k in June.

I must say, however, the most ballsy thing I've done so far is publicly owning my word, I think I'll have a t-shirt made...

See, I always worry what people will think. I try to let only the appropriate, sweet parts of me show... this year I'll be, uhhh, showing my balls. Hmm, well...something like that.

Judgers (so a word) beware, this girl's growing balls and she's not afraid to use 'em.

Now, I realize I run the risk of blending into my background, I am surrounded by a lot of testosterone producing danglies. I assure you this is all about me being a more beautiful, God lovin, happy, sexy, crazy WOMAN. So don't you worry.

And, thanks to all for your vote of Boy Raising Advice confidence. I'm planning on Thursdays as the post day.

Woo Hoo! 2011's gonna be great!

Well That's A Relief

I have mentioned that growing up in an all brother house makes teaching female pronouns, challenging. It's not that we don't use she , her, hers, she's ever I do occasionally talk about myself and other girly types. But, apparantly, exposure to a word and frequent practice of a word are worlds apart.

It is a never ending source of entertainment to watch my 8 or 9 year old struggle to speak about a member of the opposite sex. "He's...uhh, hers...mmmm she's, well, what I'm trying to say is, this shoe came off that girl's foot." Never ending entertainment for others that is, it makes me feel like a communications teacher failure.

Imagine my relief this morning at hearing an 11 year old neighbor boy, also a member of an all brothers house, say, "Did you know my dog Duke was a girl? That's so weird that he was a girl but he had a boy name."

My boys nodded with empathy. "Wow, that really sucks for him," they agreed.

I'm Thinking of Stuff

That title should scare you, it does me.

So, I've been thinking of writing a weekly post filled with boy raising wisdom...

What think you?

Obviously I have a little experience in the subject matter.

It should be entertaining.

I promise it will be out of the box.

Sooooo, yays? nays?

Like I need your permission to write about stuff on MY blog; but, really your opinion does matter to me. Really it does.