This just gets better all the time

Nobody said motherhood was going to be easy. My mother often tells me, when I complain to her, "This, too, shall pass."

Well, mom is right. Nobody ever graduated high school wearing diapers.

Another thing that happens sometimes? You can get even with your kids.

Now that I have kids of my own, I understand the kinds of things that drove my mother crazy because oftentimes, the same things really push my buttons.

This year, it's nose, chin, lip, and hand prints on the patio door and picture window.

Slowly, as the steam builds and pushes out my ears, I'd grab the windex and a rag and spritz & wipe away. A day or so, or even an hour later, the prints would mysteriously reappear. I'd threaten, "Next time I see prints on the window, YOU'RE GONNA CLEAN'EM OFF, NOT ME!"

Naturally, the prints would reappear and I would clean them off.

Earlier this week, I glanced at the patio door and noticed nose, lip, chin, cheek, hand, whatever prints on the door, inside and out. I grabbed the windex and a couple of rags and announced to the kids that after breakfast, I had a fun thing for them to do.

I handed them the windex and the rags, and instructed them to spritz and wipe the smudges. My daughter made half-hearted wipe, leaving a few drools of windex behind. "Wipe that again," I said, "it has to be dry completely."

"I thought you said this was gonna be FUN," she retorted.

I paused for a moment. "Well, isn't it? Someone thought it was fun for me, I thought I'd just share the joy."

That made her pause for a moment.

My son - he's Mr. Helpful anyway, so he wasn't much phased by this additional chore.

I do find it interesting that when the kids take over things like cleaning windows they've smudged, or sweeping the kitchen floor, they suddenly feel ownership. "I just SWEPT this floor," my daughter wailed, as she noticed dirt tracked across the kitchen.

I chuckled evilly to myself. Ah ha. If you want things maintained a little bit about the house, set the kids on it. When they have to do the work of cleaning up after others, they'll appreciate a bit more the work you have to do.

Now, if I could only get them to do the bathroom. . .

Vampires, Werewolves, and other Beasties in book form

There's a vampire craze sweeping the nation, at least when it comes to reading material. Of course, there's the original vampire novel, Bram Stoker's "Dracula." Somebody, please tell me if I'm wrong in saying that Stoker's novel was the first about vampires. It may not have been, for all I know, but it surely is one of the definitive sources for all the vampire literature that followed its publication in 1897.

Vampire stories abound for the young adult set, and the "Twilight" series penned by Stephanie Meyer crossed the library shelf for teen readers and was embraced and consumed equally by adults. I noticed lots of pre-teens reading the series, as well.

Vampire novels were popular before "Twilight" hit the scenes, and I admit it: I like vampires, ghosts, and other things that go bump in the night. Even bats are ok, as long as they stay in the story and don't flit about my room. So I took my librarian's word for it that I should try the Laurell K. Hamilton series featuring her vampire executioner, Anita Blake. Naturally, at the library, the entire series was not available all at once. So I started with book 3, and worked my way around what was available on the shelf - still haven't gotten book 1, but I'll get there, eventually.

I found the series in the "general fiction" section of my local library. If you shop for it at your local bookstore, you'll want to check "science fiction/fantasy." There are a few reasons for this, but bear with me, here.

First, I like Anita Blake. She's a no-nonsense, Dirty Harry in female form kind of woman. She's armed and dangerous, knows how to lock and load, and she deals with some pretty creepy . . . creeps. Ghouls, the living dead - well, she is sometimes called upon to raise the dead for various reasons, some of them considered legal in Blake's world - werewolves, wereleopards, were-anythings - any supernatural creature or being you can imagine. She has a background story that is pretty interesting, and I think it would be good to have . . . dare I say it . . . less sex in the novels and more . . . introspection? storyline about Anita? . . . something? But, that's just my opinion. Blake is not a one-dimensional character.

The books are written with a wry, dark sense of humor. If Janet Evanovich's bounty hunter character Stephanie Plum ("One for the Money," and others) were a bit darker in humor and dealt with the supernatural, and were less - loveably bumbling? - she might be a lot like Hamilton's Anita Blake.

If the reader can buy into the idea of a world where vampires and other supernatural creatures might have legal rights, and can mingle with the regular humans sometimes without repercussions, then you've bought into the fictional elements of the story. Contemplating the issues that come up in the novels regarding the preternatural beings can give the reader lots of food for thought about our own policies and politics, but that's for another time.

The fantasy parts come next.

Due to forces beyond her control (spoiler alert), Anita Blake finds herself in love with not only a werewolf (mild-mannered middle school teacher by day, Richard) but also being pursued by a vampire (Jean-Claude). Through other forces beyond her control, and there are always those to contend with throughout the series,Anita becomes a succubus (a female demon supposed to have sex with a man while he sleeps - except Anita isn't a demon, and then men are definitely not sleeping when she has sex with them). The odd part about all this (as if it isn't odd enough already) is the need to feed this new "power" strikes Anita at any time of day or night, and when it strikes, she has to have sex right now, and it may not always matter which guy is available.

As Anita collects lovers, she also starts to collect otherworldy powers to go along with her ability to raise the dead.

So, here's the fantasy.

Anita has umpteen lovers now. Richard (werewolf), Jean-Claude (vampire), Asher (vampire), Micah (wereleopard), Nathaniel (werewolf), and a few others whose names I can't recall off the top of my head.

I won't bother trying to explain the were-animals or vampire bits. Suffice it to say that all the men in Anita's life are, of course, buff to the extreme and each represents some facet of what all of us women out there would like in the ideal, perfect man. Aside from never being able to be in broad daylight for any length of time, or having to avoid full moons, of course.

Hey, I did say you'd find the novels in the science fiction/fantasy section, right?

They're all employed, they're all handsome and ripped to the extreme, they all know how to fight and defend themselves and others (admit it: which of you out there has wondered at one point or another if a man would bloody someone else to defend your honor?) and of course, they all are pretty hot in the sack, too.

Richard is the teacher. He's smart, sensitive, whiny, full of doubts.

Jean-Claude is a few centuries old, suave, handsome, willing to wait for Anita because heck - he's waited a few centuries, what's a few more? He swings both ways, making a nice threesome with Asher, another centuries old vampire with his own batch of insecurities which Anita manages to handle nicely.

Micah is the perfect man. He agrees with nearly everything Anita says and does, and if he doesn't agree, he manages to work things around until Anita sees his point of view and thinks it's her own idea.

Let me remind you that I did point out this is science fiction/fantasy.

Nathanial is the man-wife everybody wants. He's totally domestic - cooks, cleans, and works as a stripper. You can work out whatever that's supposed to mean on your own. Oh, and two of the guys share a house with Anita.

Anyway, as I progressed through this series, there was less going on about Anita slaying vampires (now that she loves one or four or however many) or dealing with suspenseful creepy graveyard stuff and a whole lot more going on about which guy or guys she's going to have sex with next.

This, I learn, after recommending this series to a friend, saying, "Your teenage daughter might like this, it's about vampires."

Oh dear. Here I made a recommendation after reading just one book.

Well, teenagers may find them vastly educational, covering topics that they won't hear about in the district-approved sexual education curriculum.

For adult readers, forge ahead if this is your kind of thing. The Anita Blake series isn't much different from the ordinary bodice-ripping romance novel, except there aren't any lusty pirates swashbuckling around. It does contain the usual plot twists, suspense, mystery, and there is a creep-factor.

You'll definitely know it's fantasy when you read, though. After all, how many men do you know who would willingly have sex with one woman when there are other men present? In the bed? How many would willingly share the only woman in their lives with other men, and not feel threatened? Except for Richard, who wants Anita to himself, but that ain't gonna happen any time soon. How many women (realistically) would truthfully have all these hot guys at their disposal any time of night or day?

Well, I did say you'd find the novels in science fiction/fantasy, didn't I? Oh, I guess I did.

Hamilton has another series she pens, with the main character being a fairy named Meredith Gentry. I picked up #2 in this set, and here's the first couple of sentences:

"Moonlight silvered the room, painting the bed in a hundred shades of grey, white, and black. The two men in the bed were deeply asleep. So deeply that when I crawled out from between them, they barely stirred.."(page 1, 'A Caress of Twilight').

Yikes. I guess this series will likely be more about the sex than about . . . plot? Otherworldly realms? I don't know - I haven't gotten past the first paragraph yet.

I'll let you know if I do.

The Blake & Gentry series are definitely an escape from ordinary life, and if you like your romance spiced with lots of heavy breathing and a dash of supernatural fantasy and suspense, then you'll probably enjoy reading Hamilton's novels.

I'd give them 3 preternatural neck bites out of 5. You can choose which creature bites you. Just be sure your tetenus vaccine is current.

Cell Phone Adrenaline

I'm the reluctant owner of a cell phone.

My husband and I never wanted to be one of those people who had dramatic ring tones for every caller in our list. We didn't want to be the ones whose phone would go off at inopportune moments just so others could hear us saying, "Oh, nothing. What are YOU doing?" Or worse yet, having others hear us say, "Can you hear me now?"

My spouse and I fought this for years, and conceded two years ago that a cell phone would be a handy thing since one of us was always on the road for one thing or another. So we did the unthinkable - purchased one cell phone, and shared it.

The next unthinkable thing was, we didn't share the number with anybody. Only those we called managed to capture the number, not that it did much good. Typically, unless we were out of the house and on a road trip, the cell phone was off.

As my husband's job evolved, the need for another cell phone made itself obvious. I got a new one early in the year, and while it was an upgrade from our first model, it had one tiny little problem.

Frequently, I'd get a "check call 34 restriction" message. I had no idea what this meant. Perhaps it was code language for "You are too stupid to possess a cell phone let alone ever attempt to use one." All I knew for sure was when that message appeared on the screen, I couldn't make any outgoing calls.

Well-intentioned people would try to help me. "Well, where were you when you tried to make the call," they'd ask. Here are some of the answers:

• In my car, in a parking lot, at a complete standstill.
• Still within the county line.
• Within the city limits.
• In the mall.
• In my house.
• In my front yard.
• In my back yard.
• On my porch.
• On the back deck.
• In the neighbor's yard.

Sometimes, if I turned off the phone and turned it on again in quick succession, I'd be able to place the call. Other times, if I drove or moved ten feet in any direction, I'd be able to place the call. Most of the time, I just couldn't place the call.
Perhaps "Check call 34 restriction" really meant "No matter what you do, you will forever be tormented with this mysterious message."
I put up with this for six months. I rarely used the phone, I reasoned, so why worry about it.
The high water mark came last week when our neighbor was having some construction work done. By construction work, I mean there were well-built guys roaming the yard, some shirtless, with heavy equipment capable of digging mass graves.
As I'm in my kitchen window, trying to unobtrusively peek at the eye candy, my lights go out. Evidently, whoever called Miss Dig and thus the utility companies, neglected to let the power company know that my power line was running underground somewhere near where the digging was going on. I didn't know this at the time, however.
Aside from the obvious problem of fricasseed construction worker - and thankfully, nobody was injured - this presents some problems for me. My daughter pointed out the refrigerator had quit humming. I thought at first maybe we'd blown a fuse - after all, we learned early on never to run the dishwasher, toaster, microwave, radio, and oven all at the same time. Maybe running the toaster and the refrigerator was going to have permanent, negative effects until we called in an electrician.
Nope. No blown fuse.
Turns out it was the construction guys.
I also had no phone service. Whatever mysteries of the universe conspire to get electric and phone service worked well to also cancel those out. This also meant no Internet. Ah ha! The cell phone!
I attempt to place a call. I wanted to ask dear old dad, who is an expert on such things, if it's possible for part of your electric service to be knocked out. Oddly enough, the air conditioning was still on, there were lights in other parts of the house, but nothing clicked on in the kitchen, dining room, or basement. So - was it the construction next door, or was it some fluke with one of the services?
My call wouldn't go through. "Check call 34 restriction."
???
I imagined an automated voice, "You are so freaking screwed with this cell phone. Any further attempt to dial will result in loss of fingers and sanity."
I tried the call again in the back yard, front yard, garage, various parts of the house. No luck. I then resorted to what people used to do when there were no cell phones: I walked next door and asked my other neighbor if I could use the phone.
I have very nice neighbors. They even let me come inside the house to dial, and listened, rather amused, as I relayed my question. The man of the house even walked back to my yard to ask the construction guys what was going on. I pointed out that they'd hit a line to my house, and this could be a problem since we'd just been grocery shopping and the refrigerator was ominiously silent.
The guys didn't look too happy. Not only had someone failed to properly mark the electric service, but now they had to call the power company in to fix things. Which they did.
That made me happy. But I still had this nagging issue with the cell phone.
Once power was restored, I got online and started tapping away and discovered others who use the Tracfone brand were having similar issues with some of the Tracfone models. One blogger suggested deleting all received and outgoing calls.
I deleted all eight of my received calls.
I deleted all twenty of my outgoing calls.
Still got that "check call 34 restriction" message.
(cue automated voice: "Your brain is too small for this cell phone! Please hang up and try your call later.")
In desperation, I emailed the company and politely but firmly stated, "MAKE IT GO AWAY. The phone is no good to me if I can't use it."
To my surprise, Tracfone responded immediately. They called me. I talked to an honest-to-goodness real, live person who took down the details of the cell phone problem. Days later, a brand-spanking new cell phone arrived along with a postage-paid return envelope for me to return the old one.
After spending 45 minutes conversing with Timbuktu, my husband managed to have the new cell phone set up for use. I was near ecstatic.
Either this phone was simpler to use, or I was getting more adept with using the features. Whatever, I was no longer hearing that automated voice in my head saying, "You are so beyond technologically challenged that we can't believe you can even use a rotary dial phone."
At least, I was feeling good about it until the first time the phone rang.
I was sitting in my son's first grade classroom, talking with his teacher. The room was quiet - school hasn't started yet, the teachers are just getting things ready. Suddenly, I heard a loud jangle and something in my pocket started to vibrate wildly.
I jolted in my chair as though I'd been bitten by a snake (or, perhaps, a bat or bedbug - but that's another story). Embarrassed, I realized that sound was coming from me. . . I excused myself, and answered the cell phone in the hallway.
My husband laughed for five minutes after I explained why it took so long to answer the phone.
I'm thinking that the extremely loud ringtone volume needs to be turned down, and the vibrate function only needs to go on if I'm in a meeting of some sort.
Thing is, I'm not sure if I can have one function without the other.
I've checked the manual, and there's no sign either way.
I may just have to go back to rotary-dial phones.

Batter Up?

I'm sick to death of bats.

With any luck, that statement will not prove true in a matter of weeks or months.

See, depending on who you talk to, sleeping with the bat (and I don't mean Batman or the baseball variety) means you *must* get rabies vaccinations.

A week ago and some days, we spent an weekend at a friend's place Up North. We had an unexpected guest overnight in the bedroom. Paranoia set in after my husband found an online article about a Michigan family who found a bat in their child's room, and they were all getting vaccinated.

The CDC web site likes to hedge its bets, telling you to "seek medical advice" if you've awakened to find a bat flapping about your room.

The local health departments will tell you that rabies vaccines are a must because you won't always know if you've been bitten.

Your family physician may tell you otherwise, depending on the incident, because you'd definitely know if you'd been bitten.

Our furry winged friend slowly circulated the room. It didn't actively dive bomb us. The bat hid in the house during the daytime, choosing not to exit through the open window. It made its departure much later the following evening, after terrorizing our friend's elderly mother.

When should one absolutely get the shots? That's a gray area, too. You "might" not know if you've been bitten, say some. Others argue that you'd "definitely know" if you'd been bitten.

Were you bitten, asked our family physician.

Not that I'm aware of, I replied.

The health department will call me some time today to see if we've followed up on getting shots, which are no longer given in the abdomen, by the way: shots are administered in the thigh or arm.

Well, I followed through with what the CDC web site recommends, and sought medical advice. Our medical advice was, "don't worry about it."

So, I'm trying not to worry about it - though in all honesty, my feelings are divided. One part of me screams, "GET THE VACCINES!!!!!" The other part of me says, rolling its eyes in disbelief, "Come on, nobody was bitten. This is a no brainer. The area where you stayed has no reports of rabid bats."

Ever have a bat in your house? What did you do?

I'll give you a hint, if you ever have that situation. If you were sleeping, and wake up to find a bat, kill it. Take it in for testing. If it's rabid, you get the shots. If it isn't, you don't get the shots. We, in our altruistic moment, decided to let the bugger go free - it wasn't acting erratically, it wasn't acting "sick." But - had we had the bat for testing, we wouldn't have to spend time agonizing over whether or not we made the right decision.

I'll check back in a year, assuming I'm still around.



For more information about bats and signs & symptoms of rabies, check the highlighted links in this article or see my post at Spanitz Consulting.

Pencils, Books, and Bullies

It's that time of year when we're all saying, "When does school start? I'm sick of seeing kids all over the place!"

It's also the time of year when kids who get bullied at school wish that summer would just extend itself into one. . . long . . . well, summer vacation.

If you're the parent of one of those, I encourage - no - insist - you pick up a copy of "The Everything Parent's Guide to Dealing with Bullies." The chapters can easily 'stand alone' for easy reference, and the book as a whole is a comprehensive field guide to the whole murky bully issue.

For a more complete review, see my post at Spanitz Consulting.

I don't know about you, but I tend to cheer for the underdog. I watched all the Revenge of the Nerds movies, and thought they were great. How much fun it was to see the tormentors finally become the tormented. Then again, maybe I just harbored a secret lust for watching Robert Carradine.

Either way, it was refreshing to see a film where the nerdy guys place first. Sometimes, it actually happens in real life.

For far too many people, though, being picked on in school leaves lasting scars.

I used to get picked on from time to time. This is probably a revelation for anyone reading this who knows me from school days, but it did happen. Hearing frequently that I was "flat as a board and never been nailed" may have been the height of clever humor for the guy who made it a point to encounter me daily and shout that out, but it was utter torture for me. Pimple faced gorilla was another thing I used to hear, but considering who that comment came from, I was able to dismiss it.

Why is that? If the person insulting you is, in your mind, even nastier than your own self, does it make it easier to brush off the insult? What if that guy had been cute and popular? Would I have been mortified that my bad acne was all he could see of me?

Somebody ask Dr. Phil and get back to me on that.

I hate to see, and hear about, kids being bullied. Having two of my own, keeping an eye out for bullying is a thing that is near and dear to my heart. When you have kids who don't fit the mold of what others see as normal or acceptable, you learn quickly that you're going to have to advocate for them.

The Everything Parents Guide/Bullies also gives lots of good tips on "bully proofing" your kids, and they don't involve clever ambushes at the bus stop or the walking route home from school. The Guide also attempts to dispell some of the bully myths we all hear, like "it's just part of life, every kid goes through it." Or, "That bully has low self-esteem."

Sometimes, bullies just like to bully for no other reason than they can. For some kids, that's enough. Really.

Little bullies tend to grow up to be bigger, adult bullies unless they learn better social skills. And some of them never learn better social skills, because others are too afraid to say, "Hey, you're really being an asshole, and that hurts. Knock it off." Plus, there are far too many adults who overlook it as "boys being boys" or "that's just how girls can be."

It also takes the bullied kids time to learn the skills it takes to handle the bullies - those can involve dealing with their own self-esteem, and their own social skills.

No one, regardless of age, odd little quirks, beliefs, or whatever - no one deserves to be bullied. No one "asks for it" because they're different.

Hey, I'm a boy whose favorite color is pink. Would you come over here and call me a faggot?

Not.

I bet any of you reading this can name at least three adult bullies you know and are in regular contact with. I bet you can also name the kids who tormented you in school. Do you remember the kids you tormented? If we're honest with ourselves, we'll recognize that in the social foodchain of school, there were people we picked on either directly, or indirectly because we allowed others to do it and didn't stop them.

Are you strong enough to try and change that behavior in your own kids?

My First Foray into the Fray

This is a first for me, setting up a blog. I'm only doing it to appease and please a fellow blogger, Suzanne, of GenerationXpert fame. Well, and to also give my gracious host of previous rants, Spanitz Consulting, a bit of a break, too. If you browse the Spanitz site, you'll find a link for "fun stuff," and from that page, I direct your attention to "check out guest authors here." Once you click that link, you'll find my rants, which have been posted since about 1999. You'll also find other authors, though they don't get on one quite as often as I do.

I'll still be posting to Spanitz Consulting, and chances are good that some of the things found there will also be posted, in part, here. The posts here will likely be shorter, though.

You wouldn't think doing a blog would be the kind of thing to make me nervous. I'm capable of speaking in front of crowds without breaking into a sweat, but I am one of those people who is very good at social gaffes of all varieties. In other words, I tend to say the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.

There are actually people who coined the part of the WWJD phrase before it became popular, only they would say, "What would Kathy do?" as their guideline in tough situations.

Boy, were they ever fooled.

Little did they know that Kathy really sweated it out trying to be sure she was tactful and kind and not that Holstein cow in the china shop when it came to doing the right thing and handling difficult situations.

Anyway, after a little encouragement from Suzanne and Spanitz Consulting, I decided it was time to torment the blogging world with my rude remarks, because it's so much easier to think while you type rather than pause, reread, and say to yourself, "I can't possibly put that in writing."

Hell yes, you can. And chances are, I will.