Ohio Moms Blog

Family Time

 A couple of months ago, my family was at another couple's house for dinner.  While my friend and I talking and sipped our beers, our husbands and children disappeared to the basement.

They emerged hours later, with bleary eyes and smiles across their faces.  My daughter exclaimed, "Mom!  We just played the best game!  Dad says we're going to go buy it tomorrow!"

And, we did.

When I was a kid, my family would gather together and play Monopoly for hours, work on jigsaw puzzles, or go outside for a rousing game of kickball.  We played cards, backgammon and checkers.  We enjoyed these things because we enjoyed each other.  We didn't play games in silence.  We actually had conversations.

Inside Information

I did something awful.  I read my daughter's diary.

I thought I would find valuable information about the thoughts in her 11 year old head.  I thought I would find out what she and her friends are up to.  I know it was wrong to read her personal journal, but in today's world, I can't help but feel that parents need all the help we can get to keep our children safe.  I would do it again if I thought I would learn something that would help me protect her.

Although there was a little bit of information about her friends and about boys, most of her entries spoke of her disdain for her little brother and me.

It turns out that what I consider mundane requests ("Pick up your socks."  "Clean your room.") are actually quite bossy to an 11 year old.  By reading her diary I realized that my methods of trying to get her to be more responsible are making her feel like I treat her poorly.

Not in My Back Yard

The neighborhood where I live was recently up in arms because of a proposal for the development of a gas station.  Though the land where the construction would take place is situated on a major thoroughfare and has been abandoned for quite some time, the residents located nearest the lot were vehemently opposed.

I wholeheartedly disagree with them.

This gas station is affiliated with a local grocery store's loyalty program.  There isn't another gas station around for miles where their shoppers can receive a discount.  People would travel into our area just to buy gas, which is apparently part of the argument.

People don't want the extra traffic, though the lot is located on the corner of one of Columbus' main roads and a road which dead-ends into a river.  It would be impossible for people to use neighborhood streets as a short-cut.  The only way in and out would be on the road that is already well-traveled.

Keep Your Hands Off My Faith

It has always been rather unpopular to be Catholic, but never more so than in the last few weeks.

The claims against priests in Germany, Ireland and New Zealand have brought to light the issue of child abuse within the church.  Again.  I call these allegations "claims", but I have no doubt the abuse happened.  America has been down this road before, priests were proved guilty.  If it happened here, it happened there too.

Do I think these priests need to be defrocked?  Yes.  Do I think they need to be punished to the fullest extent of the law?  Yes.  The church should pay for therapy for the victims, they should pay restitution and they should continue to educate the clergy and parishioners, so this never happens again.

I can't begin to tell you how much these stories break my heart.  Being violated, especially by someone who is supposed to lead you in your faith, is unimaginable.

Lunch Lady Revolution

I am a lunch lady.  I used to have a high-paying, high-pressure career, but I bid it farewell when my kids were born. 

My son has medical problems, sometimes chokes when he eats and this school year was his first one that he would eat lunch at school.  A job opened up in the cafeteria and I took it.  It was a no-brainer, really.  It was a chance to earn a little money (and I mean a little money), work the same days my kids attend school and possibly save my kids' life.  See?  No-brainer.

Lately, I have been hearing a lot about Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution.  Jamie is a chef (better known as The Naked Chef), from England, who is attempting to change the way America eats.  I applaud him for it.

He has started a campaign to raise awareness about what our kids are getting in their school lunches.  His program featured a school where the kids were fed pizza for breakfast and chicken nuggets for lunch.  It was enough to make a lunch lady like me turn over in her orthopedic shoes.

See, we don't eat that way at our school.  Today I made a tossed salad with iceberg and romaine lettuce, fresh carrots, cabbage and cucumber.  Tomorrow we're having bananas.  It the last week we have served freshly sliced apples and oranges as well.  Today's dessert was peaches.

Do we serve crap too?  Sure we do.  Twice this school year I have made instant potatoes.  We have fries and government meat a lot.  We are not above tater tots.

Mustering the Strength

My daughter is 11 years old.  At what point do I tell her that I was a victim of violence?

When do I share the fact that I was once a broken and abused girl?  That I had a boyfriend who punched me, slapped me, kicked me and called me names constantly.  I feel it's something she should know.

I want her to learn from my mistakes and know that she never deserves it if someone treats her that way.  I want her to have the strength to walk away from a bad situation.  I want her to know to know that she, alone, holds that power..

But, in empowering her, I will be telling her that I once was weak.  I allowed these things to happen and that makes me someone other than the mother she knows.  Her image of me will be forever changed.  I will be responsible for making her see that I was once very different.  That's not an easy thing to knowingly do.

On the Road...Again

Yesterday, was my eleven year old daughter's last basketball game of the season.  Tomorrow, she starts track practice. 

Her school softball season runs April through the end of May, then she plays in a summer league in June and July.  She is also in choir and Girl Scouts and has played soccer every fall (though this year she wants to give golf a try).  I was able to talk her out of band, simply because it costs too much.

My son is in Cub Scouts, which sometimes meets twice a week and he will start baseball practice soon.  He also wants to take swim lessons and play an instrument.

City Life

My best friend lives in a newer house, in an upscale suburb.  She has lots of space, lots of storage and her gorgeous home is located on a quiet cul-de-sac where her son can safely play.  It's a beautiful place to live, but it's not for me.

I live in the city.  I can walk to restaurants, parks, schools, the library, the post office, a farmer's market and my bank.  I can catch a city bus, if I so desire, but if I choose to drive, I am just seconds from the highway and minutes from downtown.

My house is old.  It has water problems, peeling paint, tiny closets and it's sinking so much that we had to try and jack up the foundation.  There are huge, old trees in my yard that produce more leaves than any human being should have to rake, our garage floor is cracked and we've had to replace the roof...twice.

Ohio is for (Pet) Lovers

Roughly a year before I was born, my family bought a dog.  Cleo was a toy fox terrier and was the baby of the family.  At least, until I came along.  Once I was born, Cleo stopped getting all of the attention and she developed quite an attitude.  Especially with me.

As I grew older it didn't matter to me that Cleo hated me and snarled every time I came near her.  I loved her anyway.  It also didn't matter that she didn't appreciate my love for her until she was old, deaf and nearly blind.  She was so elderlyand frail that she may not have even known it was me, but my love for her never wavered.  Cleo made me a dog person, even if it took 15 years to earn her loyalty. 

There have been a lot of dogs in my life since Cleo died.  Roscoe, Alex, Buttons, Ozzie, Bowse, Boomer, Brutus, Scout, Blue and Daisy.  Each one a different personality.  Each one holding a special place in my heart.

I have often written about the two dogs we have now.  They keep life interesting and fun, even if that fun is riddled with dog hair and muddy paw prints.  As an occasional pet blogger, I was excited to hear about BlogPaws, which is a new site dedicated to the on-line pet community.  It will be a place where I can share things with other dog lovers, get new ideas and gain insight into content creation that pet owners will appreciate.

Winter is Not Such a Wonderland

I am a native Ohioan, so snow, sleet and salt trucks are nothing new to me.  We don't recall winters by what happened in our lives, but by how much snow we trudged through. 

I remember being six years old when the Blizzard of 1978 rolled through Columbus.  There wasn't much snow, but the wind blew it into drifts as tall as I was.  I remember standing atop one of them and looking down at my mom's car.  At that age, I may as well have been standing upon a mountain.

Shortly after that, I began my hate/hate relationship with Ohio winters.  I don't like to be cold, I don't like the slushy, muddy mess and I don't like driving in bad weather.  I especially dislike the fact that the sky is mostly gray from December through March.  I miss the sun so much during this period that I have considered buying one of those "happy lights".  Seriously.