This Kid Is Your Kid...This Kid Is My Kid...

There comes a point in every parent's life when you look at your kid(s) and decide, that kid is most definitely like you...or in this case: me.  We've known it for some time, but last night solidified that...

While cleaning up from our delicious dinner, my oldest was standing at the foot of the table and loudly exclaimed to me, "Well, I *am* your kid!"  That was to say, she was trying to verbalize that she thought she was just like me.  Haha, kid...no.  You may look just like me, but you do not act like me.  Noooooo, no.

My son, our beloved middle, who was STILL eating when everyone else had already left the table; loudly exclaimed that HE was my child.  Again, no.  His father hung his head and laughed.

"Oh, baby, you are certainly just as cute as your mama...but you are Daddy through and through."

Together these children, baffled, asked, "Are any of us your kid?!?"

Right then, as if on cue, my youngest - who had at that point been "practicing" piano in the living room [by lying on the piano bench and pretending to write in her theory book] while half singing to herself bellowed in a most decidedly baritone voice, "Hey!!! I know aliens!"  ...and then giggled.

Their father, whose head was still hanging, began to shake with mirth.

"Aaaaaand, that one there [pointing into the living room]  That's my kid."

My Anniversary

I've now hit the one year anniversary of when I was let go from my job due to outsourcing.  It's also the one year anniversary of finding who I really am. The one year anniversary of feeling valuable.  The one year anniversary of realizing that I *CAN* totally do it [whatever IT may be].

I'll admit, I was terrified when it first happened.  Having had a job since I was 12, much of my identity was caught up in the fact that I was good at what I did, and that I was a hard worker.  I've come to know that none of that changed; only the mere what of what I was doing altered.  In a moment of self-pityand distress, I confided all my self-doubt in a friend (who is wiser than she gives herself credit for, and has come to mean more to me than she could possibly know), who told me, "You've got this.  You'll be just fine.  Just. Go. Do. It."

And I did.  I've done more things than I thought myself capable of and tried doing things I never imagined were done by everyday people in the past year than I have in my lifetime; sum total.  Sure I've failed, but I've also succeeded...tremendously.  I no longer look at obstacles or new ideas with an underlying fear, but with humor and pride; because my friend was 100% right: I've totally got this.

I've made bread, and yogurt [and I'm going to make cheese next, because: why not?!?].  I've canned jams and sauces.  I've destroyed a bathroom...and then fixed it.  I've overseen home repairs.  I've sewed.  I've crocheted.  I've managed projects.  I've been a General Contractor of Life.  And contrary to my initial unease: it all pays very well.

My paychecks these days consist of mainly hugs and kisses.  I get weekly snuggle bonuses.  I've heard sentences that make me want to cry:
"You made this?  It's awesome!"
"I love XXXXX that you do/make best!"
"I don't know what I'd do without you!"
"You're amazing!"

I find the times of thinking I am a sucky mom/wife are diminishing daily.  I find my self worth inversely correlated to that and therefore increasing daily.  Most of all, I'm happy.  Not that I wasn't happy before, but a new found inner peace kind of happy.

With that, I look forward to what this next year is going to bring me...  and I rub my hands together and think, "Bring on that cheese.  I'm ready for it!"

It Drives Me Crazy...

So, here I am once more feeling like a maniacal ranter over The Who's song Eminence Front [the first time was when the company I formerly worked for used it as background music to their "Rah, Rah Get on board" with our Corporate Kool-Aid 'culture' reform].  I realize that I am smarter than the average bear, but that one just blew my mind, until...

A car company recently decided to use this song to promote their overpriced cars that masquerade as luxury SUVs.  The song is clearly discernible for those who appreciate classic rock.  To verify that I wasn't insane as I started my rant to my husband [who at this point stares at me, while I believe, praying that when I explode it doesn't get on him], I picked up my phone and used my handy little song app that only needs a small portion of a song to go fetch it, so you may purchase it or read the lyrics; or in this case - validate my ire.

Immediately, I am incredibly incensed [I cannot begin to explain why this pisses me off, rather than amuses me...but it does.  Anger me, that is].  How on earth could a marketing team use a song and not pay any attention to WHAT the song is about and stands for?!?  At the very least, I would hope these educated folks would have looked up the lyrics [assuming they are Millennials who didn't grow up with a parent or two listening to this on the radio].  Or, even better...Wikipedia the song.  Not difficult.  Unless you're illiterate and unable to browse the interwebs?  Hmph.

In any case, one would find that the lyrics BLATANTLY discuss putting up a front or facade to make things appear not as they are, but as they 'should' be.  Ok, idiot marketing ppl...completely disregard that, but at least pay some heed to the fact that the man who wrote the song even admits it's about snorting too much blow.  Good God!  For that reason alone, you should possibly avoid using this song, no matter how catchy it's hook is, to sell any product outside of say...Uh, Cocaine.  And last I checked, most drug dealers aren't putting ads on prime time television...yet.

15 minutes into my diatribe, my husband calmly informs me that they really probably never listened to the actual lyrics of this song.  Ever.  Hiroshima...In my living room.  How could you not, if you decide to use the hook for, what I assume is, a multi-million dollar advertising campaign.  That would be like the EEOC using the song Brown Sugar to promote Equal Opportunity Employment for minority women, purely because they enjoyed those sick beats.  Well, maybe not that bad...  But, you're getting my drift?

In my mind, the ad agency picked a song with a recognizable and awesome tune to play, not too quietly, in the background of an automobile commerical.  A song about taking too much drugs, the need to keep up with the Jones' and putting on airs to make sure everyone thinks you are something much more than you are...and base a campaign for a gas guzzling, expensive, not quite luxury but wishes it was, SUV on it?  Bravo.  Well done.