I'm Considering An Exorcism For My Teen Daughter

Tonight my daughter is at her first high school football jamboree. Although I've already been through high school with the three older boys, I'm having some difficulty with Kid 4, the first girl, entering high school.

After just one week I’ve come to the conclusion I only have two choices in how to deal with this.

Option 1: Remind her, ever so lovingly, that I offer a safe place for her to channel her strong-willed nature. However, she has been raised by a strong-willed mother, who at one time tortured her own mother, so no amount of eye rolling or “Oh My Gawd” will be enough to break me. I am stronger than she is.

I think I’m stronger than she is.

Option 2: Dig deep down in to my Catholic roots and perform an exorcism. Because the only explanation for this new behavior spewing from my daughter is she is possessed.

My daughter has always been bossy. Although we prefer to call it, ’strong leadership abilities combined with a lack of maturity to know when to just shut the ef up!'

Each of my older boys survived their teen years. Even more impressive I survived my boys teen years. But this. This is different.

All summer she was my blonde-haired beauty who joined in family conversations. OK maybe she didn’t actually always join in the family fun, but she at least acknowledged we were her family.

But then, a couple days in to her freshman year, she changed. I saw it in her eyes first. She looked at us like we were pond scum.

Then her posture changed. I reached out to hug her and she recoiled like I had leprosy.

Finally, her voice. My years of teaching the kids that it’s not what you say it’s how you say it seemed to have been forgotten. Or, maybe she did mean to say it in the most snotty, condescending way possible.

Yeah, she definitely meant it that way.

Last night her brothers asked me what her problem was. I tried to explain that she’s a teenage girl and teen girls are going through many hormonal changes that can turn them into horrible creatures for a few years.

Her 12-year-old brother summed it up best by saying she’s becoming a mean girl.

It all became clear. I remembered that scene from Mean Girls when Ms. Norbury asks the group to raise their hand if they’ve ever been personally victimized by Regina George.

I slowly raised my hand.

No, no, no. Little girl you will not Regina George me! You will not make your older brothers question the sanity of the entire female gender. You will not prove my own mother true when she said to me, “you’ll understand one day when you have a daughter.”

You can let yourself believe that you know it all, you can believe I am the most horrid mother on the face of the earth, but I have 46 years of stubbornness and leadership ability under my belt.

At least one of us will survive your teen years.

But if it starts to look a little iffy, I have no problem googling “exorcisms for teen girls.”

Don't anyone tell her I posted this picture. But it's
very typical Kid 4 - snap chatting her displeasure at
her mom for the world to see.

Writer's Guilt - The Self Imposed Kind

Tonight I read Murees Dupe's blog about writer's guilt. She linked back to a blog hop writer's group called the Insecure Writer's Support Group - what a fabulous idea!

So tonight's post is number one of my participation in the IWSG. Yes, I realize I'm a day late. But, as an insecure and sometimes lazy writer, I just saw the post tonight.

Why am I feeling insecure as a writer right now?

Because everyone is being too nice to me and telling me how much they are enjoying my book and recent articles.

Stop being so nice to me everyone! It's too much pressure!

I recently had two of my articles picked up by Yahoo, one even made the Yahoo home page. Pretty cool right? But what if it never happens again? What if the best writing I'll ever do has already been done? What if I'm a one-hit wonder?

I've been in a writing lull for a couple weeks now. I'm the type of writer that writes when I'm inspired. But the past couple weeks I've just been hanging out with the kids before they go back to school. Netflix marathons and eating junk food haven't left me very inspired.

So we can add "not a very disciplined writer" to the list of reasons I'm feeling insecure tonight.

I'm sure there are other reasons I'm feeling insecure tonight. But I'm on season three of The Newsroom on Netflix and there's some Haagen-Dazs in the freezer waiting for me.

My BlogTalkRadio Interview

This morning I had the pleasure of speaking with Your True Colours Magazine on BlogTalkRadio.

Your True Colours Magazine is spelled with a "u" because it's all about YOU. It's a pretty neat magazine and the editor, Carolyn Bendall is delightful.

You can click on the link below and listen to the interview.

Your True Colours Image Radio

An Instagram Picture Does Not Make A Yoga Teacher

I sit here tonight not as excited as I should be.

My yoga mat is freshly cleaned, my blocks are packed and I have my registration from printed out. I am ready for my first yoga teacher training since 2012.

I actually had to go back through my certifications and check the dates. Yes, it has been more than three years since I last sat in on a yoga teacher training. It makes me very sad to realize how much time has passed and how much of my old life I've lost.

Of course, in my defense, I've been through some shit these past few years. There was that whole divorce fiasco. And then major turmoil with one of my children. I've written very little about that era here on the blog. In fact, I've just recently started speaking out about how addiction destroys families. You can read the first piece I wrote here, where it got picked up by the Yahoo home page  and a different post over here on Rebelle Society.

As you can see, I sure haven't been slacking these past 40 months. Forty months! I've missed sitting in on yoga teacher trainings as much as I've missed leading trainings.

So I should be more excited to get back to what I love. But I'm not because of recent events.

This week I had a new student in class. A woman probably a little older than me, a few extra pounds and by her own admission has only recently begun to be active again. As I always do, I asked if there was anything I needed to be aware of to make her practice safe and enjoyable for her.

She rattled off the usual things; bad knees, back issues and lack of flexibility. Then she mentioned she also had scoliosis and, oh by the way, her neck was in a lot of pain from the headstand she did on Monday.

Headstand? What?

Yes, this woman with legitimate physical issues that require modification, who had never in her life done yoga before Monday (the two days previous to my class), and who has scoliosis attempted a headstand.

Why? Why did you do that?

Because the teacher told her to.

This other "teacher" has no yoga training. I don't believe she even has any group fitness training. But the gym hired her to "teach" yoga.

And now a new yogi is hurt and afraid of yoga.

I asked if she told the teacher about her limitations. She said not only did the teacher not ask but when she said her neck was hurting the teacher told her she just had to get stronger.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to go find the gym owner and scream at him. I wanted to quit on the spot.

But I didn't. I didn't do any of those things because I just don't think quality, certified yoga teacher training matters all that much any more.

When I look around my area, I am the only certified yoga instructor currently teaching. There are other yoga teachers. But they have no training or very limited online training for the bargain price of just $49.99. Many of their students are getting hurt, seeking out my classes or worse even giving up on yoga altogether.

Now, I'm not saying all this to inflate my ego and I really don't mean this to be a personal attack on anyone in particular. I'm upset at the business. I'm disheartened that someone who watches a YouTube video and then calls them self a yoga teacher gets hired and paid the same amount that I do. I believe it's unfair and unethical to members entering the classroom who, as they rightly should, assume their instructor has yoga training. I'm frustrated at the gyms and fitness centers that not only don't ask for certifications, but don't require certified instructors.

And I'm worried about the future of yoga.

Of course not all yoga teacher trainings are created equal, and we all know Yoga Alliance isn't the best at over seeing yoga schools. Yoga training used to be passed down from teacher to student over years and years of practice and study.  I'm sure there are great teachers who aren't RYT certified, yet who have studied under the masters.

I don't think you'll find those teachers in the gyms and fitness centers where most people are now practicing yoga.

Yoga isn't now, and never was meant to be, a fitness trend. It shouldn't be taught like any general group fitness class. It isn't a "no pain no gain" workout that you grunt and struggle your way through.

Yoga is not an Instagram picture.

But I fear that is what it has been reduced to.

I'm going to try real hard to improve my attitude before I walk in to the yoga teacher training tomorrow. And I'm hoping that after being back in that environment, surrounded by like-minded yogis who care about and value the history and philosophy of yoga, I will be revitalized.

In the meantime, I'm grateful for all my years of very expensive and hours upon hours upon hours of study and training. I welcome those students whose bodies don't look like an Instagram picture and I'll never get tired of watching their excitement as they realize that, because of yoga, their back no longer hurts or their neck pain is gone.

I accept that the only thing I can do, the only way I can hope to bring about change, is to keep studying and to keep teaching. And pass along the yoga to anyone who comes in search of it.

Doesn't Everyone Have A Baseball Field In Their Back Yard?

When my now ex-husband and I bought this house with a huge backyard, the first thing I said was let's mow a ball field into the backyard!

He said no.

Many times over the years I said I was going to mow a ball field and each time he said no. I have no desire to go in to detail here about the control issues surrounding him telling me no, but this one issue became a very big deal to me.

It's been almost exactly three years since the infamous phone call letting me know my marriage was in fact over and I was getting a divorce, and I finally have a ball field in my back yard.

As I was out the other evening mowing the base lines, I kept thinking 'this is mine'. I am no longer controlled by him. I make my own decisions.

I realize to most people mowing the yard, and mowing a ball field into the yard, is a petty act of independence. But to me it is so much more.

It is a sign that I am no longer controlled by a very controlling man. I no longer care what he will think if he finds out. 

I am becoming more free.

Then an interesting thing happened. What started out as a F*** You to a ghost from my past, became an event where I just allowed myself to have fun for the sake of having fun.

The kids and I invited over a bunch of friends for a swim party/play ball/BBQ evening. 

First we played wiffle ball.

Then it was time for kickball.

 

And because our backyard really is that big, why not spray paint a Twister game into the yard too!












The night quickly transformed from past resentments keeping a hold of me to being able to look ahead to a happier, more fun-filled future.

And the ball field will be staying as a reminder that there is a happier future for me and my family.

It's Hot and I'm Cranky

I try so hard to believe people are good and honest.

And really, most of the time I am right. Most people are good and honest people.

But tonight, as I sit here in my 85 degree house at just after midnight, I'm struggling.

The beginning of this summer my central air conditioning officially died. I've had problems with it the past couple summers but have been able to pray it along. Not this year. And because the unit is 24 years old, replacement parts aren't even available.

A new unit cost me $5,000.00.

I don't have $5,000. I don't even have a credit card I can put $5,000 on. So I called the bank, and well, I might have forgotten to tell them I no longer have a job. Either way, they loaned me the $5,000 I needed for a new unit.

And the house was cooler for about a day.

I've called out the AC guy five times since he has installed it. Each time he comes out I get a different reason why the brand new $5,000 unit isn't working.

The latest reason I am being told is I have a 3-ton unit and the size of my house requires a 5-ton unit. Well, there's a couple problems with that theory:

- I've always had a 3-ton unit.
- Last year I had a barely working 3-ton unit that kept my house cooler than my current brand new energy efficient 3-ton unit.
- If my house requires a 5-ton unit, why did this guy sell me a 3-ton unit? He is the same repairman I was using last summer to band aid my unit together. He was already familiar with the size of my house, my duct work, etc. He never ever one time said hey you need a bigger AC unit to properly cool your house.
- This brand new 3-ton unit is supposed to be energy efficient and save me money on my electric bill (hence setting off some of the $5,000 cost). My electric bill came today. Want to guess? My bill is $70 higher this month than it was at the exact same time last year with an old, non-energy efficient unit.

But, the most important part, it's after midnight and my house is still 85 degrees inside. We already have ceiling fans and I've put box fans in every room so we can try and sleep.

When I called today, he told me he will come out tomorrow and "try and figure something out."

Yeah, what we are going to figure out is which you can do faster - give me back my $5,000 or give me a working air conditioning unit.

My friends keep telling me to go on Facebook and warn people against using this guy. I really don't want to do that. Everyone needs to make a living and I don't want to ruin someones business.

But, this needs made right. And it needs made right, right away.

Because the hotter I get, the crankier and louder I'm going to get.

You Just Have To Remember Where To Look