What the Hell?

I do not label myself based on politics.  I may be labeled a liberal by conservatives or a conservative by liberals, but I really do not give a rat's ass.  What I am is a self thinking adult, I like to call myself a Humanist.  I do not blindly follow ANY doctrine just because it is affiliated with a certain party/religion/group. I try to base my decisions on rational facts.   I look at the pros/cons and then I make my own decision....some of which are based on emotion, I will confess.  For example, I do not, will not ever, shop at Wal-Mart.  I would rather spend extra money at another store, or drive extra miles than to give my money to them.  I base this a personal decision on their policies towards women, benefits, and "take over the world" mentality.  Hooters is another establishment that doesn't get my money.  It isn't even based on fact, but just my emotional feeling that women shouldn't have to dress provocatively to make money.  Do their wings taste bad if the girls aren't in hoochie clothes?  The difference is I have the right to choose who gets my money, but I do not think that companies can morally say who they can take their money from.  

Recently all the hoopla about Chick-fil-A has been making me confused and angry.  I do not know if it was a brilliant way to get fat, lemming like Americans to eat more Fried Chicken, or if the ownership of that company really does not like 1/10th of the human population and feels that their money isn't good enough for them.  Whatever it is, I will NOT be eating there (although admittedly I don't know if I ever have eaten there).  To PROFIT off of alienating a group of people who just want to live their lives is shameful.  I thought being a Christian meant that you have love and forgiveness for ALL people?  I thought that being an American means protecting the rights of all?  I don't even care that they label themselves as a Christian establishment and are closed on Sundays.  What bothers me is that they label themselves a Christian establishment and PROMOTE the hatred of human beings who are different.  

When did Americans get so sanctimonious?

The Statue of Liberty tells us: "Give me your tired, your poor/ Your huddled masses yearning to breath free/ The wretched refuse of your teeming shore/ Send these, The homeless, tempest-tossed to me/ I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"  I do not see anything in that statement about not letting in someone based on their sexual orientation.  

I get that people join certain organizations (and I am pretty upset with the Boy Scouts right now, but that is a rant for another day) because those organizations are in line with their personal belief systems.  However, an establishment that is for profit really should be open to ALL people, and their policy shouldn't be to not hire/serve/cater to humans who are different.  Would it be okay to start a restaurant that says no one with Autism can eat there because they may disturb the other patrons? It would be wrong because people with Autism are born that way....Just like people who are LGBT.  Would anyone choose to be something that they know will result in them being the target of hatred, fear and persecution?  Not if they have one ounce of intelligence in their brains. A better idea would be for Chick-fil-A to limit their service to obese people, however I guess the part about gluttony being a sin doesn't matter as much to them as other passages in the Bible.

I have friends who I adore, love and cherish who believe differently than me and have different lifestyles than mine, and that is Okay!  I would never base my friendship on if someone believes like me or agrees with me.  I welcome their differences and always learn something or think about an issue I have not had to face before.   I have friends that are gay, friends that are tea-baggers, Muslim friends, funny friends, serious friends, friends that are liberals, and friends that are just as confused as I am.  It makes my life more enriched and allows me to better formulate my own personal opinion based on FACTS and not what I see on the news or am "instructed" to believe by politicians and other organizations.  

Life is only black and white until you are forced into the gray.  Usually you are forced into the gray because someone you love and adore goes through something that makes you open your eyes and have empathy.  I hope for my children that they are not gay, because every parent does not want their child to be persecuted.  However, if one or more of them are, I will still love, support, and make my own damn fried chicken for them!

I encourage you all to think about if someone you love dearly was told they were wrong/sinful/an abomination because of a circumstance of their birth.  Does any other human being really have the right to judge?  And, if we are judging, shouldn't we judge on all criterion not just the ones that suit us and allow us to feel superior to others?  Pride from self-righteousness  is a sin too.......

Rant over...sorry if anyone was offended by my opinion.  That's okay if you are different, I will love and respect you anyway!

No, I am not the stripper, I work here!

As most of you know, I work in a traditionally man's job.  I am a facilities engineer/energy conservation champion for a 2.4 million square foot manufacturing plant.  I have worked at manufacturing plants as an engineer for over 12 years.  I like it, I really do!  There are times when I hate it, but isn't that pretty much every person's job?  I was first introduced to the "joys" of being a female in a plant environment was when I was 18 going on 19.  You see, Momginerd wasn't ALWAYS the biggest studious Nerd I grew into.  I had a short period in college when life was more about boys, partying, sports,  and anything BUT studying.  I was lucky in high school in that I made really good grades with minimal effort.  However, the rigors of a challenging college where everyone was intelligent was a different experience for me.  All of a sudden, I was making letter grades that I had never even seen before!  I got a C on my semester report card, and a bunch of Bs but the usual A's were woefully missing.....in my family an A- was questioned, so you can imagine how a C went over like a turd in the punch bowl.

"Nic, clean all of these with toxic chemicals and a paint brush"

My wise father decided that it may be time for me to learn a lesson.  I do not come from a family of Office Workers.  My grandfather was a Coal Miner, my grandmother a Seamstress, my dad started his career as a skilled trades worker, and continued to work in automotive manufacturing for over 35 years.  The value of hard work was one that had been instilled in me my whole life...second only to the value of the dollar and the importance of an education.  For Pops to believe that I was wasting all 3 of his hard taught lessons led him to scheme the ultimate revenge:  He arranged for me to work in a machining shop for the summer....not in the office, but actually IN THE SHOP, as the only female.  Mind you, this was quite a few years ago, and this was an "old school" shop that was not unionized (thus how he could arrange for his 18 year old daughter to work 72 hours a week, I am sure).  I worked 12 hours a day 6 days per week.  I wore: Safety glasses, long sleeves, long pants, hair in a bun, mesh gloves, and steel toed shoes.  Isn't that the ultimate outfit for a cute little 18 year old to wear? Oh, and in case you don't have the full picture of this "opportunity," I had to drive about 30 minutes each way for a start time at 6:30 AM and there was NO air-conditioning in the shop.  Not only did I look gorgeous, I smelled FANTASTIC by the end of the day.

This is an industrial press similar to the ones used in my shop

Since I obviously had no skilled trades experience, I was informed that I would be the shop machine cleaner, and if I was really lucky, I could work my way up to loading/unloading parts from the presses.  Oh Goody!  Anyway, I show up for my first day with my required safety equipment and my brown bag lunch.  On that first day, my start was later than normal since I had to go get a physical and drug test prior to starting.  I walk into the shop and a guy comes up to me and says: "Oh you must be here for the retirement party!"  I replied, "I don't think so...."  My confusion was at a high level at this point.  He then escorts me to an area of the plant and asks me, "Where is your boom box?"  Confusion mounting even more, I replied, "I really didn't think this would be the sort of job where I would need one."  Now, he is looking at ME very quizzically.  We continue walking through the plant, and I notice I am getting a lot of very "interested" stares, and the guys are following along like I am the Pied Piper or someting.  Now, this was not normal for me at all, but I was beginning to think I may like working there!  We finally reach the back of the plant and everyone starts gathering around and staring at me.  I was thinking, "Wow! they must be SO happy to have a fresh face in here, look at how eagerly they are looking at me!"  So, I said, "Thanks for gathering together to welcome me here, do you know what I will be doing?"

At that point, 45 men started realizing that there may be some confusion as to who and what I was doing there.  One of them, after a very long pregnant pause, said, "You aren't here to strip for Fred on his last day of work?"  I then stammered, with much embarrassment, "Um, no, I am your new employee."  That response was met with many people talking at once.  Some of the snippets I remember included:
1.  WTF? A GIRL in here?
2.  Ummmmm.....where IS the stripper then?
3.  She won't last 2 days after this! (I detected much glee with this one)
4.  Who did she piss off to have to work here?

The stripper did end up showing up about 15 minutes later, much to the relief of the guys and the mortification of myself.  I oftentimes wonder what the hell my dad thought of the fact that his lesson led me to be mistaken for a stripper....I do chuckle, now, but at the time you can believe the lesson was learned, and I can honestly say all that hard earned money, stripping machines of their grime, not me of my clothes, led to a marked improvement in my study skills and grades.  Lesson learned, Dad!

I think the funniest (Now, not then) days must have been when my dad or uncle would visit the shop for business and see me working covered head to toe in metal shavings and grease.  I literally had to strip to my skivvys at the entryway to the house before my parents would let me enter.  I spent much time that summer with a needle digging out shavings from my hands, face, scalp, neck, etc....If nothing else, that experience taught me to work smarter not harder, and to dress ALWAYS in a way to NOT be mistaken as a stripper!

Until next time,
Nic

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Giving birth does NOT make you a mother!

This is not going to be my usual informative or quirky post.  I recently went through an emotional trauma, and need to voice my rant.  If you are offended, I will apologize in advance.  If you are moved, saddened, irate, etc, then I hope it moves you to be more aware that you should be kind to all, for everyone is suffering their own battles.  This is also the hardest post I have ever written, since I have made it my policy to not bare myself emotionally naked to anyone. 

My birth mother died 3 weeks ago today.  She was never a "mother" to me.  She was guilty of atrocities that in today's society would warrant her losing parental rights and perhaps even being charged with neglect/abuse.  This post is not about MY history of abuse.  It is about breaking the chain and putting on your big girl or boy underwear and moving on.  It is not easy....not by a very long shot.  Everyone can't do it either, I know this and I accept that fact.  I consider myself one of the LUCKY people.  I have always had a brain that divided everything up into "logical" and "illogical."  Sometimes, that made it even harder to deal with.  I mean, what little girl doesn't want her mommy to love her? To buy her Christmas or Birthday Presents? To hear the words "I am proud of you?"  Those are things I never received from my birth mother....and now, the little girl who still resides way deep inside her armoured house has to deal with the fact she never will.  But, the "logical" part of my brain accepted and embraced that I was better off without her in my life.  I have a wonderful life with a loving Partner, and 3 talented, beautiful, and kind children.  Am I perfect? No, I am far from it...I do know that I have some lasting psychological damage from my early childhood that I fight daily...I am insecure, defensive and hold people at arm's length.  I strive daily to overcome these, and frankly, I believe that almost everyone who KNOWS me would be surprised to hear about the circumstances of my childhood. 

I firmly believe I was saved because SHE did manage to give me up to my Dad when I was 8.  This must have been a huge thing for her....not because she harboured of any love for me, but because of the money she lost from child support.  I am sure that could have purchased her a lot of booze and drugs, because heaven knows she never spent a cent of it on me when she did have custody.  She made the decision that she wanted to run off somewhere (Alaska, I think), so she gave up custody to my dad.  Thankfully, my dad was, and is, a wonderful person.  He was hard and had extraordinary expectations of me, but I know it was because he was fearful that I may become a lot like Her.  And truthfully, I am still unsure of if he even knows everything that SHE did to me when I was with her.  She would threaten me with even worse torture if she ever found out I told anyone.  And I believed her....who was I to not?  She was my supposed "mother" after all.

Unfortunately, the circumstances of HER death were horrific.  She was murdered by a 23 year old drug addict in her own bedroom.  Because of these circumstances, the police and DA from her area have found and contacted me as her "next of kin."  I find this very ironic, because honestly, if you would have asked me 4 weeks ago where she was or if she was alive, I would have had no clue or care.  In my mind, she was dead to me over 20 years ago when she dropped off the face of the earth.  Now, however, I have had to deal with the police, the morgue, the coroner, HER family (most of whom never attempted to contact me either), the mortuary, the victims of violent crimes task force, and best of all the damn media...all over a person who didn't give two shits about me. You cannot imagine the awkwardness of the conversations with these people who are looking for information, of which I have none.  Hell, I think I only have 1 or 2 pictures of her and they were from when I was an infant.   

The DA even mentioned that I may be subpoenaed for his trial.  I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice when I asked "as a witness for the defence or the prosecution?"  I had to honestly tell him that any testimony he received from me would most likely not garner any sympathy for HER from the jury.  I told him that I want justice, as I would for any stranger who died in those circumstances, but that as far as personal investment in the case, I would give it as much effort as she gave to being a mother to me.  I somehow do not think I will be subpoenaed any time soon.  Yes, this sounds harsh, but I have worked hard to have a "normal" life, and more importantly to create normalcy for my precious children...none of whom she ever even saw a picture of and probably didn't know existed...just like they don't know about her.  I will continue to work hard to protect them from her and her "family" for as long as I live.  My kids deserve happiness and the confidence gained by being loved unconditionally, and not to be like me and always waiting for HER words of "You are a ugly horrible person and no one will ever love you" to come true in my life. 

At the end of the day, I firmly believe I have thus far lived my life in a way to make my DAD proud.  I KNOW that when I die, people will not be fighting over who HAS to take care of my remains, and I will not be a burden that no one wants to shoulder.  My epitaph will hopefully read:  Here lies a woman who brought joy, love and humor into the lives she touched.  And, hopefully, it will be a big party with lots of wine, laughter, and joyous stories of experiences shared and enjoyed. 

So, I guess this turned out to not really be about being a mother, but more about accepting that your past does not have to be the mold for the rest of your life. Accept that it has happened, figure out what works for you, and then move on to become the best authentic person you can.  There will be obstacles in the path, but if you keep you eye on your goals, you can get there....With some help from friends, loved ones, and perhaps a little vino wouldn't hurt either!

Nic

P.S.  If you are one of my wonderful in real life friends, I'd appreciate your discretion about this when I am with my kids. 

Kids say the Darndest Things!

I am sure all kids do this, and I love hearing the stories about how they were coined.  My kids have all made up words that have become part of my family's everyday conversations.  In fact, I have even heard some of my kids friends' parents use some of them on occasion.  Shouldn't my kids get royalties or something?

Here are some of the more stellar words:

1.  Yesternightago - Sometime in the past couple of days.  Manudo coined this when she was about 2 years old.  She would use it to recall some event that had occurred somewhere between 2 - 3 days in the past.  "I took a bath yesternightago, so I must still be clean!"

2.  Mahtato - Some genetic cross between a potato and a tomato.  Princepessa does not like tomatoes, she loves potatoes, but mahtatoes are just okay.  WTF?

3.  Jenky - Something that has a flaw or defect.  "Mom I booted up the computer, but the screen looks jenky."  At this point it was giving us the famed "blue screen of death."

4. Ogrit - Yogurt in a tube, preferably with Shrek on the packaging...lmao.

5.  Aberolli - Like ravioli, but with pesto sauce instead of red sauce.

6. Bombfire - A really BIG bonfire.  Bubbie is always asking us to make a Bombfire in the back yard. 

Of course there are the words that they just plain said wrong growing up too. 

1.  Bubbie called a Truck a Fu*k for about 2 years.

2.  All my kids called spaghetti Pahsghetti.

4.  Bubbie was actually coined by Manudo who instead of calling him her little brother called him her little bubbie and it just stuck!

5.  You don't take a vacation, you go on becation.

6.  Princepessa once told a waitress at a restaurant we stopped at while driving to my parent's house for becation that we were going to see Grammy's Vagina.  We were travelling to Virginia!

What are some of the funny words your kids have made up or mispronounced?  I'd love to see your comments!

Nic

Things overheard by my offspring lately.....

So, as you may be aware, my offspring/demonspawn/trolls/angels/kids (all depending on the day), have had the misfortune to develop my sarcastic sense of humor.  Recently I have overheard them say the following things to each other:

Bubbie to Manudo:  "I am so sorry that it didn't work out with that boy.  I hope you don't become an old lady who cleans houses and has like 90 cats and lives in a creepy house (Manudo is 12, btw)".  After I recovered laughing hysterically, I realized he was referencing the term OLD MAID!  When I asked him why he thought that she would be someone who is old, cleans houses and has a lot of cats, he responded:  "Well she does seem to like cats more than me, and if she treats her boyfriends like she treats me, no one will want her, and she is so much better at cleaning the bathroom than me!"


Bubbie to Princepessa: Hey, did you know you are adopted?
Princepessa:  You are such a liar, I know for a FACT that is not true!
Bubbie:  REALLY? How? 
Princepessa: Mom already has said, 100 times, that if she didn't give birth to me she would have sold me on eBay!

Bubbie: *crickets*

Manudo to Princepessa:  Why are you so annoying?
Princepessa:  Because one day you are going to be grown up and move away, and I am making sure you remember me!
Manudo: Aren't you going to grow up and move away too?

Princepessa: No, why would I?  Mom is here to cook all my meals, drive me everywhere, and clean up all my stuff!

Princepessa to me:  Can I have some bacon?

Me:  Sure, why do you want some now? (It was 1:00 PM)

Princepessa:  Bacon makes all the world's troubles go away!

Me to Bubbie:  Get in here and pick up this mess, NOW! (after the 3rd nicer request)

Bubbie:  Meow!

Me:  Who are you saying "Meow" to? Me?

Bubbie: Because you said it first! (I am now thinking I have stepped into some Laurel and Hardy routine)

Me:  No I didn't!  I said clean up your mess NOW!

Bubbie:  Meow

Me:  What are you doing?  Go clean your room!

Bubbie: Stop saying for me to clean my room "meow" because you know I can't resist meowing back when I hear a cat.

Me: Jesus Christ!  Just go clean your room THIS INSTANT, please.

Bubbie:  My name is NOT Jesus, I thought you would have known that by now, mom.

Me:  You have until the count of 3, 1! 2!

Bubbie:  sounds of muttering accompanied by opening of drawers.

Me to spawn:  What is the matter with you guys?  Do you need written instructions on how to change the toilet paper roll when it is empty?

Manudo:  Only if it has a flow chart and pictures, please. 

Me:  GRRRRRRRRRRR

What gems have you overheard lately? 

Nic