Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Barbie Doll

This is blog three in a series of three. Read blog one here. Read blog two here.

I've never been much of a girly-girl. Sure I liked high-heels and make-up. Mini-skirts and dangle earrings. I also liked beer and fighting. So I blazed my own path. I'm not interested in opinion or advice (well some is ok).

It's what I do.

I'm strong. I'm smart. I'm honest. I'm also Irish. That means I can take a punch and hold a grudge. Not necessarily in that order.

I got a pretty good kick in the teeth this week. But, like everything else, I survived. Not only will I survive. I'll be strenghtened. Every aspect of my life will be better than it was.

I'm amazed at my family. We can do some jacked-up stupid things but no matter what, in the end, we have each other. It's what we are. It's who we are. It's how we are. We are family... and all that crap!

Dylan has borne the brunt of the past week. He's the one that needs to walk into the building every day. Face his team. His peers. It was the talk of the school. And it's his walk to walk. And he has to do it alone. And he's doing an incredible job.

I was angry. Really, really angry. At Pat. At the situation. At the over-reaction. At other things. That anger was starting to inform Dylan's behavior. Last night during dinner we were talking and I didn't like what I was seeing or hearing. Until I realized he was parroting me. I squashed it. Then and there. I let the anger go.

Nothing is more important than my family. Anger is useless and drags you to a level that's not healthy.

I've talked a lot about the lessons for the kids and Pat. My lesson. I have courage and honesty. I own my mistakes and I let them make me better. As for the universe. I have one thing to say...

Next.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Pat

This is blog two in a series of three. Read blog one here. Read blog three here.

My family recently experienced tremendous upheaval. Thankfully no one died and no one was injured. However, it threw us into an ugly and nasty place.

My husband was fired. He was the head coach of the Plymouth North Boys Lacrosse team. Parents trusted him with their sons and he let them down. One parent complained about a remark that he made in front of the players and he was fired.

Did he make a crude and vulgar remark on the practice field. Yes. He admitted it. To everyone and anyone that has asked. He has stood up and said he did. What he said was not racist. It was not sexist. It did not incite violence. It was not bullying. It was not aimed at, or directed toward, a player or another person. It was an crude remark and he should never have said it.

We have nothing to hide and we have offered to tell anyone over the age of 18 what, exactly, he said. Several people have actually said no, it didn’t matter because they know him and trust him. Others we've told. Almost to a person they told him it was crude and offensive. They also told him they don't believe he should have been fired for it.

Pat has also defended the school. He has told players and parents that he put himself in the position to be fired. Ms. McSweeney has a difficult job. One I wouldn't want. Do we think she handed out an overly harsh punishment? Yes. But had he not made the remark he would not have lost his job. Period. End of story. The ultimate responsiblity lies with Pat, it always has and we've always said that.

By now, you’re saying to yourselves “It’s her husband, of course she’s defending him!” Let me be clear: had the email accusation been correct, I’d have opened the can of whoop ass myself. In fact, I would be leading the charge to have him not only dismissed as head coach but also as my husband. See, in the anonymous email it said that while in a huddle he told his players about private acts that we perform. That’s right. In the privacy of our bedroom. Want to know how I know that's a lie? Pat would never do that – ever. He has too much respect for me as a person, a woman, and his wife. The mother of his children. Oh, and his 15-year-old son was there. MY son.

Our lives have been turmoil. Phones ringing, buzzing, and jittering day and night. People stopping by the house. The outpouring of support for him personally and upset at his firing has been overwhelming. I knew Pat made a difference in his players’ lives but until this happened I had no idea how much they loved and respected him.

We’ve finally had a chance to catch our breath. I’m sorting out the lessons here. The kids, especially my son, are hurt and confused. Pat and I have to pull it together and heal our family. How do we want to frame this? How we handle it, will have a deep and lasting impact on them both. All of us really.

Talking to the kids about it, I’ve been impressed with how maturely they have both handled it. We were open and honest about what he said and the context in which it was said. They understand that their Dad had a lapse in judgment and he has paid an extremely high price for that lapse. They have learned that our family has an enormous group of friends and supporters in Plymouth and we can never truly express how much every phone call, email, text, or facebook message has meant to us. Truly we are humbled.

We, as a family, will be learning from this event for a long time. Some of the initial lessons we have discussed with the kids are: taking responsibility for your actions; that actions have consequences; that your reputation can see you through difficult times so be careful what you put out in the world.

My mantra over the last few days has been: Bad things happen. They can make you bitter or they can make you better.

I choose better. Every single time.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Coach

This is blog one in a series of three. Read blog two here. Read blog three here.

Let me tell you about a man. Not a perfect man. Not even close. But a good man. An honest man. A man that was able to look beyond the nonsense and see potential. Potential in the troublemaker; in the borderline student; in the restless; and the outcast. A man that sees potential in the future. In the faces and hearts of young men.

A man that with patience, and understanding, and humor built self-esteem one block at a time. A man that motivates young men to look into themselves and want to be better. Better athletes, better students, better men.

There are no perfect people in the world but some – the lucky ones – have a rare and special talent and they get the opportunity to use it. Not only use it but perfect it and make the world a better place.

Pat has that. You can see it when he’s on the field. Or in a group of his players. Pat’s a coach. Not a “live through the kids” coach. A real coach. One who understands that the sport, in his case lacrosse, is used to benefit the players. Not his desire. Not his ego. Not his agenda.

Pat got shafted – hard! By anonymous. It's a shame that selfish, small-minded people will never understand doing something for the simple joy of doing it. To be a positive influence in the world. To affect change at the human level and doing it with dignity and respect and love.

I’m not done on this topic; not by a long shot. I will find anonymous. I have a pretty good idea but thinking and knowing are different and since I have morals and a code of ethics that informs my life, I won’t say. They know who they are.

They harmed a good and decent man and his family. My family. And that is unforgivable.

More important than that (yes, more important than my family) they harmed other people’s children. Boys – young men – that had a positive, amazing man in their lives and now they don’t.

Shame on them.

Friday, March 18, 2011

I Am A Liberal - Part the Second

This is the second in a series. To read the first, click here

The Nanny-State

That's what they call us. They say we want to intervene in peoples' lives. Tell them how to live. What to eat. When to exercise. Blah. Blah. Blah.

You know what. It's true. I do. My secret, all-consuming passion is to make sure that everyone has access to healthy, natural food. I want urban and rural recreation areas that are safe and well-maintained. I want pregnant women to have access to adequate pre- and post-natal care. I want children to have access to early education programs no matter their socio-economic background. I want to teach the world to learn so they can buy themselves a Coke!

These, to me, seem like reasonable and appropriate uses of public funds. You know taxes. Remember, I LOVE them. Sometimes I don't think we pay enough to be truly effective. That’s right; I said it and you can quote me on that.

It's why I'm annoyed about the retaliatory vote to defund the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and the important and necessary programming that it funds. You know, those lefty-subversives: Elmo and Big Bird. Seriously. Who doesn't think Caillou is a smarmy little commie bastard? And Rosita on Sesame Street, anchor-baby! Oh, don't get me started on Ernie and Bert. Oh. My. God. It is a bastion of liberalism. Maybe they are right. Hahaha - just kidding. They're ridiculous!

I know another group that believes in the Nanny-State. Hint: it’s not liberals. But the only thing they seem to want to regulate is our bodies. Who we do, how we do, and where we do. It's been said that they want to shrink the size of government so it fits in the bedroom; or a uterus. Guess what? Stay out of both. I don't care what Bill and Jeff do as long as they both consent. Karen and Peggy too (you go girls)!

Abortion's another thing. It's legal you know. It has been for years. Keep it that way. You know the best thing about choice. You get to choose NO. Anytime you want. I'm done dicing up the abortion debate. Have one or don't. It's really that simple. Listen carefully: I don't care if you get raped; have consensual, unprotected sex; or have a health-risk from a pregnancy abortion is a decision between a woman and whomever SHE brings into it. Be that her partner, her spouse, her doctor or her god. I don't care what your views are. Don't want one don't have one. Easy. Peasey. Lemon. Squeezy.

Conservatives are on a mission to destroy everything they deem supportive of Democrats and the Democratic Party. UnionsP; making it more difficult to voteP; defunding educationP. It's only going to get worse.

I have a word of caution for my left-handed friends – watch your backs, you may be next…

Thursday, March 10, 2011

And my American Idol is....

Jennifer Lopez!

I have surprised myself with how big my girl-crush on JLo has become. Seriously, I could watch a whole hour of Ms. Lopez smiling and saying nice things to people. I'm not kidding. I’ve watched stupider shows.

I'm in awe of how she is able to extract the essence from a less-than-stellar performance, examine it, and hand it back with a recommendation. And she does this in a way that builds up rather than tears down. Masterful.

Case in point. Naima. Last night was a hot-buttered mess! Don't even argue with me, it was. I love her; she's my favorite girl in the game right now. But last night was just no. Not good. What did JLo say to Miss Hot-Buttered Mess? I'm paraphrasing here "It's really hard to have control when you're jumping around on the stage and singing isn't it? That takes work." Not calling her out in a way designed to embarrass her. No. She was empathizing with her about a shared experience: the difficulty of performing.

In that moment, she gave her several things: her intact dignity, constructive criticism, and a plan to improve.

More of this please, Idol.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

I Love Sunday

I'm not particularly religious. I guess you could say I try to live according to the Christian tenants of "love thy neighbor" and "do onto others..." but with a bit of pagan and secular humanism thrown in. Basically, I'm winging it. It's working for me. Even at my sickest, I trusted science, not God, to make me better.

I don't have the patience or tolerance for organized religion. Really. It annoys me. I know others find peace and solace and community; I find rules and hypocrisy. But that's not the point of this blog.

Why do I love Sunday? It seems to be the day, whether by design or default, that I stay around the house. It's bacon and eggs day. It's laundry day. It's shopping day. It's catch up on homework day. It's the day I feel fully connected to being home. Work a nagging, pesky insect in the corner. I know it's there but it hasn't arrived yet to fully annoy me.

It generally has a pace and rythym that I strive for the rest of the week. Kids (and generally hubby) sleep in. Even the dog sleeps in. Sundy morning is my time. It's quiet and peaceful. I get time to myself to write, uninterrupted.

It's easy like, well Sunday morning (oh come on, you knew it was coming).

Oops, they're starting to stir. Switching to Mom mode in 3... 2...

Friday, March 4, 2011

I Am A Liberal - Part the First

Not just any kind of liberal. No. I'm a special liberal. I'm a progressive liberal. Know what that means? It means I want to take all your money and give it to low-lives and welfare queens; I want crackheads to get all the crack they want and I want you to pay for it; I want to turn the constitution into a party hat, for the crackheads; Oh, and I want to eat your babies. All that's true; except for the part where I don't.

I believe in work. I believe in family. I believe in freedom. I believe in fighting for what's important. I believe in the inherent goodness of people. I believe a nation's greatness is based on how it treats it's most helpless.  I stole that last bit from Aristotle. Pretty good, right? Stick around I might give you more Philosophy 101.

I believe in taxes. There I said it. Taxes. Taxes. Taxes. Know why? I like roads, and police, and firemen, and libraries, and schools. I like knowing that a safety net of social services exists should me, my friends, or someone I don't even know, need it. And no I don't believe that we have an evil cabal of welfare queens and crackheads waiting to suck every last cent out of the system. Do they exist? Sure. But stopping the programs because someone may get something for nothing is foolish and short-sighted. Oh, and no, I don't agree with drug testing AT ALL. Whether I have something to hide or not. It's like saying "Why do you care if government listens to your calls if you're not saying anything incriminating?" Oh, I don't know, a fundamental right to privacy, perhaps. I don't think you abdicate that right if you fall on hard times.

Mostly, though, I believe in the middle class. The backbone of America. The group responsible for making us great. Sure the industrialists had the capital and the means to start companies but without the us, the middle, the workers, the people who pride themselves on hard work, they'd have nothing. Truly nothing. I wasn't born into the middle class. Nope, I'm working class. I envied the middle class. I aspired to the middle class. Teachers, nurses, police, fire. People who make a difference in other's lifes. Union people.

We need the unions. More now than ever. Why do you think they came into existence? Was it because of the safe and secure working environments of the late-1800's and early-1900s? A greedy middle class not satisfied with the benefits of a living wage and reasonable hours? No, they grew from a need. A need that still exists.  Unions are not the reason for the mess this country is in. Try greed, corporate greed. The constant outsourcing of jobs in this country.

Now before you go off assuming I'm some starry-eyed hippie, I'm not. My husband owns his own business and has for years. I understand profit-margin and the need to have a healthy financial company for everyone to prosper. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about greed plain and simple. Not being content with a comfortable life. The relentless pursuit of luxury - no matter the cost.

We're dying. A slow, painful, ugly death. A death that some are happily assisting with.

This turned into a longer blog post than originally intended so I am making the executive decision to turn it into a series. Up next: The Nanny-State