Some wait until their loved ones are asleep to sneak to the liquor cabinet, the internet for dubious lacivious pleasures, to the fridge for the forbidden snack. But then, there is me: denying myself the extra hour of sleep for you, dear reader! I've been herding three small children for the last fourteen days of holiday school break. I know there are others of you who share my pain. To blog for me is to hear for the first time today, perhaps, my  own voice in my head. Thank you.

I know you other Matriarchs (and Patriarchs!) understand! Let us not undersell the majesty of the role of mother, though, with the simple label "Mommy." Oh, no. It is not "Mommy" who strategizes a catering menu for a week, constructs a shopping list broken down by grocery store departments. "Mommy" suggests a softness not inherent in The Matriarch who dons her New Balances for the hours in Target with her list broken down by departments, holiday joy set in her sights.

Of course, there is a method to the madness. We have values, we Matriarchs. Smells and memories for our children and loved ones, sights and joys to treasure and pass on. Which is one of the reasons I am pleased to wait for the small ones to abed, even the weary Knight of Local Technological Corporation to doff his shield for the eve, to steal the chance to possibly connect and share with some of you other royals who live and get it.

And what cannot be lost: the incredible luxury in what we live. As we prepare to usher in and celebrate the new year, Matriarchs can't just be responsible for the catering and the cleaning. It's also about passing on the the awareness of the luxury in which we enjoy here in Collin County; the kind of wealth that the Matriarch in Afghanistan. in Iraq, in Darfur could only imagine in her wildest dreams.

I am blessed to be here in North Texas with you and your children in 2011! Stayed tuned! I got more. Please: know you are wealthy beyond belief. Act accordingly. I'll do the same.

Who the hell uses celery seed and what aisle is it on??

I just gots to give a shout out to the other women who are doing exactly what I am today...wondering where the hell the flour sifter is and if it could be actually possible that I haven't used it since 1998. Kitchen Bouquet? Are you kidding me? What IS that, and what's in it? And if you're checking gramma's recipe, WHAT EXACTLY IS OLEO and on what planet can I procure it???

Time for several belly breaths. I mean, was it really necessary for me to create and decorate both gingerbread men and sugar cookies with the kids? And made chocolate candy? AND my grandmother's signature dessert (actually, it's funny: both sides of the family had the recipe. The Catholic side called it Better Than Sex and the Baptist side called it Sin. Makes sense).

But I digress. All I know is between three meals, two snacks, and two deserts today combined with two casseroles tomorrow I have officially flipped my culinary wig. Not counting the trip to the grocery store (the third in as many days!), I have been on my feet cooking and cleaning more than Florence from The Jeffersons. Have I mentioned my recalcitrant family will probably wrinkle their collective nose at my beloved, traditional family dishes as well, just to make all this furious activity a little more insane?

Just a reminder, ladies. I know you're out there, going great guns in the final 48 hours. You're infusing all the food with tons of love and perhaps a pinch of resentment when folks don't notice and appreciate your toiling as much as you'd like. It's fever pitch time...except it really doesn't have to be.

Realize: It comes without pumpkin pie spice as well as boxes and bags (and what's up with that cheat anyway?? Back in my Momma's day you used your three separate bottles of cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice all together...and you liked it!).

Enjoy this time. They won't remember what they ate, but they will remember Yulezilla. Peace on Earth, darlings, and pass the potatoes flavored with the best kind of Christmas spirit.



 

Word up, Dr. Drew...

"We have gone through a 30-year period where terribly unhealthy things that contribute to unhappiness have been normalized as 'just another choice,' just another way of doing things, when in fact that's bullshit. Divorce is an extremely unhappy, extremely stressful, extremely problematic thing. Thank god it's an option for some people. But...it impacts people's mental health. The least it does it create problems around intimacy until the fourth decade of life. It tends to normalize after that. But it takes people to their 30s or 40s to, under the best of situations, to expunge the experience. That's a lot of suffering. And that's often a lot of failed relationships and other failed relationships and more children exposed to divorce. The problem with divorce is that people consider it an option. You just shouldn't consider it an option unless it's absolutely necessary."

Dr. Drew, y'all....

Unsolicited adivce: or, shut up and listen

Ooh, an aggressive title got your attention! Stay tuned for the twist, though, because my thesis is multi-layered. Here's my unsolicited advice of the day: you really need to get off your cell phone during certain times. Tweeting during funerals, for example, should be widely panned. Texting and driving makes you a nightmare. And don't get me started about cell phones during date night....Grrrr.

I know, I know, I have the electronic tether too. Emails, tweets, calls, texts, daily calendar reminders all make my pants vibrate every other minute just like yours. But there's one time in particular I want to talk about when it's really, really important to step away from the Crackberry that doesn't get much attention.

Whether you are a dad or a mom, if you are a parent whose children attend school or daycare, I implore you to not be staring at/talking to an electronic device when either picking up or dropping off your kid/s. Of course, those of y'all who know me are aware as a counselor, I'm big into the concept of mindfulness: being here now. And I get it that Megatronics Corp expects you to do those conferences calls at their beck, so to speak.

But partings and comings-together are incredibly important in your relationship with your children. They need and deserve your full attention when leaving for school. School time might have been awhile back for you, but this is their life and challenge now. They're small or young, and this is their gladiator arena. They want to look in your eyes as they go in, see your smile, see your calm assurance for and interest in them. They need kisses and hugs for which you are actively present.

Pick-up time is key as well...your child, whether or not they act like it, want to know you are interested in seeing them again, interested in the story (even though teens can make it tough). They want to nestle back into the family, feel snug again. They may wear their heinie on their shoulders, but this tendency does not make it any less true that they crave your attention as much as any two year old.

Thank God for the concept of good-enough parenting. I hardly claim to be the perfect mother (actually milk might come out of my family's collective nose at my making that proclamation), but being in counseling practice and by being dragged into maturity by my own brood, I have figured out that you don't need to be perfect...or anything near. Like Woody Allen says about life, turns out 80% of good parenting is just showing up.

Take a Lick of the Valium Block Already, It's Christmas

Okay, people! Clearly you are in need of some advice from McKinney's premiere mom/counselor. Come, sit down a minute. You've been stressed. You're road raging. You're snarling at sales representatives. I'm sorry to say it, but you look miserable. McKinney Momma to the rescue! Luckily, I am always ready with the advice.

Decide now you're going to enjoy yourself, dammit. Make a conscious decision to put your eyes on the positive and overlook the faults of others. Where you put those peepers magnifies. Side note: use of terms like "peepers" makes me seem 120 years old. 23 skiddoo!

Use your senses to really put yourself in the moment when the good is happening...smell it, taste it, touch it, hear it! Christmas is a time for wonderful sights, smells, and sensations. The more you stay in the moment, the more joy can register in your brain.

Make an exercise of finding the reason to be grateful in any moment. For example, sure you're stuck in traffic, but are you with screaming kids? Hey, a reason to be happy. You're probably in a climate controlled car with your choice of audio, too, so not too shabby. Guy in front of you has 20 items instead of less? Focus on how lucky you are to pick out food at the grocery store and take it home. Your address does not include the word "Darfur" in it. You're blessed. Consciously reflect on that fact.

Nourish your body with breath,movement and mostly plants to eat. Get enough rest. It's a choice.

Giving to people really does light up the brain in a bio-chemical way. Look into giving a damn.

Play! It's Christmas! Make a cookie, sing a carol (I like "Nuttin for Christmas" right now), wrap a gift, pay it forward with a random act of kindness. Watch the Charlie Brown special in footie pajamas.

Now, I hope to see y'all out in a much better humor. You're welcome.

Let nothing you dismay...

Did you know that you can follow the Dalai Lama and Deepak Chopra on Twitter? Me, too, of course, but I digress (it's at Eliskacounce. Follow me! I'm feeling along in the Twittaverse). Weird to think about clerics and monks tweeting. Do they have Blackberries?

At any rate, I love that I can get updates about Miley Cyrus' leather pants and bong usage right alongside words of wisdom from religious figures. The Dalai Lama (and I have to get away from the visual of him in his robe hunched over his IPhone...surely he cusses AT and T too) tweeted yesterday this quote:

"Remember that calmness and compassion are an important part of living a fruitful, positive human life."

Holla, brotha (I'm almost certain I would ssy something different to him in person). I would like to retweet your idea of calm and compassion, particularly for my fellow Collin County citzens during this holiday season. Be CALM when the salespeople appear slow or perhaps lobotomized. Be COMPASSIONATE with the road rager, for he knows not what he does.

Be kind, becuase everyone you meet is fighting a great battle, no matter how much money they do or do not have. Your act will be rewarded in a fruitful and positive life.

McKinney Momma Holidrama

The only way to make it through this time of year and come out on the other side with any semblance of sanity is to retreat to the moment. Find joy in what you can...I did a little inner dance over self-adhesive stamps this morning, for example, when I had to mail forty Christmas cards. Can you imagine the licking?? On the other hand, stop imagining the licking.

Slow down. Do whatever you're doing with deliberateness instead of the usual crazed done-and-I'm-on-to-the-next one we Mommies do so well. Bake the cookies to bake the cookies...smell, taste, really hear and experience each moment. Stop. Hear the carol. Notice your feelings.

All too soon the magic of watching Christmas through your young children's eyes will be over. Enjoy them now. Christmas is amazing for  them, no matter what material goods they might be receiving. Talk about the magic, the believing, the spirit.

I'm also a big believer in the best Christmas tradition as having fun. Please don't let your children remember you as the Yulezilla who would rather have every detail of the decorating and menu perfect than have family members enjoy themselves and you. They won't remember what present you got them this particular year or even if the turkey was dry or delicious. They will absolutely remember you crying and cursing in the bathroom with the door locked.

Good luck with the holidrama!

The Bitch Goddess Megatronics Corporation

My husband's job with Megatronics (not its real name) giveth, but damn, do it taketh away. I'm thrilled with the health insurance; God forbid that ever goes away with my three Typhoid Mary children, but really. Laptop open constantly, all hours day and night, holidays. No time off...even at the holidays. Oh, the days are there, but Megatronics will punish you for using them. Phone bud in the ear, mumbling like a schizophrenic.

This is not a rant against my husband! To his credit, he's doing everything he can to keep me supporting the entire economy of North Texas. But Megatronics is sucking the life out of my already health-compromised husband. He's complicit, of course, but that's for another blog.

It's such a Dickensian dirty little secret, isn't it? You work for one of these big companies, and in this economy everyone's so damn happy to not have been amongst the quarter of staff fired in 08 or 09. Please, sir? May I have some more? You WILL work as many hours as we ask, salary boy, and you will smile and ask for more or go without treatment for your lemon of a liver.

Sick kids? Oh well. Unfed animals? Too bad. Skyrocketing divorce rates among workers who literally are expected to be up at any hour of day or night to answer an email, engineer software, or be on a conference call to India? Alas. I am working very hard not to put an expletive in front of "India," by the way, because I'm a good Southern girl with appropriate breeding. But I am starting to bristle whenever I hear the accent.

But you'd be proud! I'm adjusting. I am here to be the maker of the home for now, while the babies are small. And to support my other wives and mommies. Holla back, those ladies who do all the housework, all the shopping, the maintenance of every social relationship, the cooking, the butt wiping, and some of you work full time too...just not at the Megatronics job that carries the insurance, so you draw the short stick and suck it up for the good of your family.

You do not go unseen or unsung! March on, my domestic sistahs!! I gots love for ya!

Out of the mouths of babes

So this was fun. Got up Saturday morning, managed to get two of three of the offspring stuffed into holiday-appropriate garb by 8am (ugh! It's Saturday!) and packed into the Blazebago to truck down to Megopolis to a charity event featuring, of course, Santa. Naturally the middle kid is scared of Santa, so I've got 1of 3 and 3 of 3 (just deal with the geeky Borg reference) trundling down the road on time with not a small amount of Mommy sweat shed.

Now, naturally I have to get lost because my iPhone is an iPain in my iAss and gives me the wrong directions. So, a frantic call to hubby at home with Skeerdy who saves my aforementioned  ass with directions to where I am actually going.

Having arrived on two wheels into the parking lot, we are thankfully on time thanks to my earliness neurosis. I can relax! I foolishly think. We have snacks, we see Santa (kick ass Santa, by the way: if you're local, look into the December 12 Hope's Door Santa thing in Lewisville. He rocked!), I'm feeling like we may escape with few or no emotional scars. Alas, it will not bear out.

Here's the gem, the parenting moments we all cherish. That I will look back on and laaaaauughh..... I am chatting up the CEO of the organization sponsoring the event, networking my brilliant counseling behind off, thinking how it's all going well, talking to her about possibly volunteering for her in the spring. I'm telling her about how I am making some changes professionally in the spring, would she be interested in my being a part of the organization...here's what rolls out of my seven year old son:

"Hi! Yeah, we can't afford the country club any more so my mom's coming home!"

And...scene.


 

Toys R Us is a Canto of Hell

I should have known pulling up in the parking lot...as I waited patiently for my spot, bitch rolls right in in front. Welcome to the Me First population of Collin County Texas, where we love me some me. Parking lot of course nothing but SUVs and minivans, including of course mine, the Blazebago. Fifteen minutes after opening and the place is packed. Hey, where's that recession? Damn, I thought everyone was too poor to collect more lead-painted Chinese toys this year. Thought the new hot toy was twine, for Chrissakes, listening to the news.

Clearly Texas has Frugality Fatigue as the place is crawling with parents, faces haunted like hostages, attempting to wheel squeaky, delapidated carts in between aisles a cart and a half wide. Children scream. Women in questionably waisted jeans stand slack-jawed in front of the Pink Aisle...Barbie? Hello Kitty? Lobotomy?

Faces are grim. It's December the 1st, and they've already got the Look. But is it good news or bad that all these men and women are willing to wait in line for twenty minutes for the priviledge of owning a talking General Grievous? God help us all.