I Am Woman Hear Me Roar

Apparently I have this reputation for being a big mouth ready to take on anyone who crosses me or ticks me off. I'm not quite sure how I got this. I mean, okay, when I was a child I would throw tantrums and yell my little lungs out and as a pre-teen and teen, I walked around angry at everyone...everyone except my posse, of course. I would yell at my mother, sneer at my father, ignore my sister (which was just fine with her!) and the like. I mellowed with age. By the time I was in my early 20's, I was basically nice to everyone, even my mom if I didn't see her too often. I would still get ticked off, but I would keep it more to myself because I was pretty much afraid of causing a scene. Imagine that? Me? Afraid of the attention? Well, negative attention? You bet your sweet bippy! Now I'm more afraid of hurting people's feelings or having them misunderstand what I'm saying or worst of all, yell at me that I choose silence rather than say something negative or react negatively. I try not to let anyone walk on me (at least not too much anyway), but I hold my tongue more often than not.

So why do I have this reputation? I honestly don't get it. Even now, with a gaggle of new wonderful friends, friends who didn't know me in the "angry years", I'm viewed as this "take no prisoners" kind of woman. I have never yelled at anyone...well, aside from my kids and my husband but that's just a right, isn't it? I've had plenty of opportunities to let people know how angry or hurt they've made me or to stop speaking to them or taking their phone calls, but I never took them. Over the years I have had a few confrontations with close family members and even a couple of friends, one with a now ex-friend, but only if I was drawn in. And even then, the quick-thinking "big mouth" of yesteryear would get tongue-tied and upset to tears. So not worth it. I think there are very few reasons that will support making a scene or hurting someone with words spoken in anger. You can never ever ever take back words. The recipient will never ever ever forget what you said. They may forgive, if you're lucky, but they'll never forget. So there will always be a riff between you.

When I was 18, I couldn't care less about that. If I had something on my mind, or you made me angry, you knew about it; no holds barred. But I was young and socially retarded; as I think all teenagers are to some degree. I was raised in a family that squabbled a lot and made up shortly afterward so I just assumed that would work with the rest of the world. I was wrong. I learned that pretty quickly and after a few bosses would tell me on my exit interview after being fired. Oh yes, my mouth got me into trouble many times back then.

But by changing my outlook along the way and maturing into real adulthood, I learned my lesson. I've probably mellowed too much as there are some who will take advantage along the way, but I'd rather be happy and have the people around me be happy with me than to let a few bad apples ruin all the work I've done on myself.

...However, watch out. I may decide since I can't beat 'em I'll join 'em and then boy oh boy, you'll hear me roar!! (insert wink here)

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

My last excuse for unemployment just got on the school bus!

Actually, that's not true...if I tell myself I can't even think about getting a "real" job until my house is organized, clean, and running like a well-oiled machine, I figure I buy myself another few years!

Where to begin? Signed-up with FlyLady.net, check. Started a To-Do list, check. Sat down and had a cup of coffee, check. Checked my email and Facebook page, check....oh, wait! I'm off-track already!! Better change delay in employment to the high school years!

I honestly don't know how my mother did it; she had SEVEN little people to keep clean, well-fed and clothed. At one point, she had six in school at one time (she just recently spoke about her morning sandwich assembly line)!! I don't ever remember having a dirty house and we could never afford take-out.

Of course, she did have her minions...as soon as you hit a certain age, you were on the Chore Distribution List. Such duties included but were not limited to, based on age and gender, polishing (not dusting) the furniture in an assigned room, vacuuming said room, mowing the lawn, taking out the garbage, emptying the dishwasher, and doing the pots after dinner. "Whose turn is it to do the pots?" "Hers, I did them last." "No you didn't, I did!" "Okay, you can wash and you can dry, problem solved!" See, my mom didn't keep a list or chore chart. She would just point and assign. We'd whine and make an attempt to get out of it (at least I did), but it never worked. Short of high fever or violent vomiting, you were stuck. And you couldn't see your friends until it was finished. Had we eliminated the whining and grumbling, it would have taken anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour and then we'd be free to roam. Even though she told me this 9,999 times, I never listened...well, that mustn't be true since I heard the exact words coming out of my mouth recently and decided I must have heard that from her because I would never come up with that phrase on my own!

So here's how I think a Saturday chore list would have looked like for my mother circa 1970:

Jim, mow lawn and clean bedroom.
Barry, take out garbage and clean bedroom.
Chris, clean playroom and clean bedroom. (I'm thinking since he had his piano in there and the thing was HUGE, I can make this assumption!)
Mary Ann, help me clean kitchen, help Jeannie and Eileen polish and vacuum, clean bedroom. (and by "help" I mean "do it completely over since I'm sure they'll do a less than par job")
Stephen, clean bedroom (that would be enough work for any man (though I should talk!)
Jeannie, polish living room, dining room, family room, clean bedroom.
Eileen, vacuum living room, dining room, family room, clean bedroom.

Of course, at the end of the day, the bedrooms would have been minimally tidied, much less cleaned (except maybe Mary Ann's); my dad would lose is patience with Jimmy and take over mowing the lawn the "right way"; the garbage would be taken out only because it was overflowing and Barry would probably have the bag handed to him; the play room would remain relatively untouched save for the piano which would shine like a new penny! In 1970, Jeannie and I would have spent two minutes doing our chores and then be sent outside to play (aka, get out of the way) and Mary Ann would spend the majority of her Saturday cleaning with my mom. That would change in a few years when Jeannie and I wouldn't have the excuse of youth on our side.

These are only assumptions. I can see my inbox filling up with sibling emails with all the writing in capital letters and exclamation points. However, although these are assumptions based on a little girl's memory, it's the list I'll have in a couple of years... though with far less minions to divide the work. Until then, I guess I'll have to do it myself...or go make another cup of coffee!


~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Just when I was getting used to the idea...

Just when I thought I was okay with the idea of my babies going to school in September leaving me alone for the first time since February of 2004, I have to find an old videotape of them at one and two years old. Yikes!! I was transported back in time to baby squeals and clapping hands and cheers for sliding down a slide by themselves; to both Leo and Cat walking around like drunks trying to steady themselves on two legs; to...to....

I remember when Cat was born and my mom brought Leo to the hospital to see us. I started to cry when he came through the door because, overnight, my baby turned into a toddler!! I mean he was HUGE!! All of a sudden, due to this tiny little eight pound eight ounce infant girl in my arms, I came to the realization that he aged from a baby to the 15 month old he was. It was very sad for me.

So you'd think I'd have learned my lesson and NOT watched the tape marked "Leo's 1st Birthday" or the tape marked "Summer 2006", right? Yeah, NO! Not only am I subjected to the seem-splitting speed of time, I watch film of my sweet basset hound no longer with us. Oy! I am, however, very proud of myself for keeping it together while the kids giggled and gawked over the babies that were once them. Their giggles and self-mocking were really fun to watch. I would have coverage of Leo staggering around forever (very scintillating stuff!) and go to fast forward to find something with Cat in it and she'd cry "Don't! I want to see him!!" Leo, of course, was happy to move on from Baby Cat to Baby Leo; no problem!

When Leo was a baby, people would stop me and admire him and tell me to enjoy every minute because before you know it, he'll be going off to school, losing teeth, and talking back. I would politely promise to enjoy the time but in my mind I was praying for the day he'd sleep through the night or get past the horrendous teething stage or get big enough to fit into that adorable outfit in the next size. I decided those people were just waxing romantic and time would always go as slowly as it did(especially leading up to nap time!)

But watching those videos was a real wake-up call and I have to apologize to all those admirers for doubting their words. Time has gone by in the blink of an eye. Not just with my own kids, but others' as well. My nephews and nieces have children, some of those children are starting high school. Contemporaries from high school are having college graduation parties for their children or have even become grandparents. I'm not there yet, but after my epiphany I know that it's virtually around the corner!! I mean, I watch commercials about daughters getting their driver's license and driving off down the street while their father stands in the driveway lost...I tear up for Pete's sake! Geez.

The flight of time is probably the oldest and most common complaint among parents but I think each one feels that no one else can come close to understanding the way they feel about it. But we do. I think there will be a lot of parental melancholy when the first day of school comes around, as there is every year, I'm sure, due to Kindergarten-, high school-, and college-bound babies leaving the nest. I'll get over it, of course, until the next major milestone anyway!