Author Archives: michellereitemeyer

03.19.08
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Spring cleaning or not

For years, the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of Holy Week have been my spring cleaning days. I love to clean, and I especially love to enter the Triduum with a tidy house to match my freshly laundered soul. Ah, the symbolism!

Some years are better than others, but whenever there is an infant about, the reality naturally falls well below my goals. As much as I love a clean house, I love happy babies more. I squeeze the extra chores into naptimes or I get up early or I stay up late, and I do the best I can.

But this year, I haven’t had many breaks from baby-duty. Baby’s first cold turned into baby’s first ear infection, and baby’s preferred place to sleep is in my arms. When I’ve managed to put her down, I am lucky to get a half hour. I’ve gotten most of the dust bunnies out of the upstairs, and some of the windows washed, but the closet organizing and wall-washing will just have to wait for another day, possibly in June, possibly never.

And just in case Mary’s perking up after 24 hours of antibiotics this evening had me thinking I might squeeze in a full day’s labor and get my house shining, I finally concluded, after several days of troubleshooting, that my Animal was not doing its job; it is, in fact, broken! I called the company and they are sending me, for free, a new brush roller, but it won’t get here for seven to ten days.

I’ll keep my hyperventilating to myself.

So in a week or so with no vacuuming, I’ll have fresh dust bunnies to go with my cleansed soul. Lovely.

Hopefully, tomorrow, I will get the kitchen shaped up. I don’t need a vacuum to do that. Holy Thursday Mass is at 5 pm, so we’re having our Passover remembrance meal tomorrow night. I dislike swapping things around, but the schedule will just be too pinched on Thursday. Semper Gumbi.

I eagerly anticipate Easter.

03.17.08
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Driving in the Rain

If you

(with six small children in tow)

go to the auto parts store

(in the pouring rain)

and ask the man

(in a slightly desperate tone)

which brand windshield wipers you should buy, and he

(without hesitation)

answers something German-sounding, you could safely bet that they won’t be cheap.

In fact, you might even wince as you pay for them.

But they will work, and very nicely too.

And, thank the good Lord, the installation was included.

03.14.08
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Severe Weather Alert

Attention: Residents of Hell.

I issue this severe winter weather watch for Friday, March 14th. Fritz is eating macaroni and cheese of his own free will and desire. In recent months, there has been an increased trend for him to actually sample different foods without crying, moaning, or tightening his throat muscles. He even admits to liking some of them. Preliminary research has linked this phenomenon to the sudden, brief drops in temperature in your area. The science suggests that if the trend continues, permanent climate changes may become a reality. In the short term, expect some frost and the possibility of some flurries.

03.12.08
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Just say no.

A few weeks ago, Peter’s favorite color was pink.

Now, pink is for girls, and he, as he has made quite clear, is a boy.

A few weeks ago, the most likely response to any request of Peter would be “no.” Or rather, “NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Peter, get off the table.” “NOOOOOO!”

“Peter, no throwing food.” “NOOOOO!”

“PETER! PUT DOWN THE KNIFE!” “NOOOOO!”

That, too has changed. I think I actually preferred “no.” Because now we have moved on to…

“Why?”

Peter loves “Why?” It makes him smile. Now, mom and dad aren’t yelling at him, and he’s not yelling back. There’s none of this run fast and hide the contraband game that he could never win either. Now Peter succeeds in irritating his parents with hardly any effort at all.

In fact, he even tries to bait us into asking him things to which he can respond “Why?”

Today at nap time, he stuck his finger in his nose. I was nursing the baby in the rocker and didn’t notice right away. “Tell me to get my finger out of my nose, Mom.”

“Peter, that’s yucky.”

“Tell me to get my finger out of my nose,” he said again.

“Peter, get your finger out of your nose.”

“Why?” And he smiled.

“Because it’s yucky.”

He moves his finger to his mouth. “My finger’s not in my mouth, Mom, it’s in my teeth.”

“Peter!”

“Tell me to get my finger out of my mouth, Mom.”

“Peter, go to sleep!”

“Why?”

Arrgh!

03.11.08
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Stranger Than Fiction

This past weekend, Bill and I watched Stranger Than Fiction. We liked it; it provided some food for thought.

From The Internet Movie database comes this review:

No humor, no suspense, no cursing, no use of the “n” word, no frontal nudity, not even rear end nudity, no sex at all, no car chases, no drive-by shootings, no screaming or yelling..just NOTHING to keep a person awake for 2 hours.

They gave it one out of ten stars. If you’re expecting a typical Will Ferrell movie (a la Talladega Nights), this ain’t it. For those of us with entertainment tastes slightly more sophisticated than the average NASCAR fan, it’s not a snoozer. I managed to stay awake, but I totally slept through V For Vendetta with its plethora of violence.

Harold Crick (Ferrell) suddenly begins to hear a voice narrating his life. At first, it is merely obnoxious, and he wonders about his mental health. He then becomes quite alarmed when he hears the narrator casually mention his “imminent death.” He seeks help from a shrink who refers him to a professor of literature (yes, that’s a bit silly, and of course, we all know the guy would end up on anti- psychotic drugs faster than he could just say no, but it works). The professor helps him discern what kind of story he is in (tragedy or comedy), what chance he has for survival, and who the author is. He also encourages Harold to, basically, seize the day, which Harold does.

I venture to guess that very few people would actually want to know the day and time and method by which one would die. Would you have boarded the Titantic if you knew it would sink? Would you not rather sleep late than face the morning commute if you knew someone would spin out of control and nail you? Even soldiers, firefighters, police, and other workers who face danger daily don’t go to work thinking their number is up. They rush into buildings to save lives while praying for a miracle to protect their own.

Harold Crick meets the author and pleads for his life. She gives him her outline of his death, but, being just a tiny bit freaked out by the reality of her character, begins to doubt that she should tell the tale. Harold reads his story, learns of his heroic death, and freely chooses this end. As the author correctly points out, it is one thing to die a hero’s death, but something even greater to freely choose in advance to die a hero’s death.

Although I didn’t notice any mention of it at TIMd, it is glaringly obvious, especially during this Lenten season, that Harold Crick is a Christ-like figure. My guess is that those who didn’t like the movie didn’t get this or aren’t the type to be drawn to such a story (no sex in The Passion, despite the name). I thought that the analogy, though clear, was not blunt. And I appreciate that.

On a completely different note, Bill’s wrist watch recently breathed it’s last tick, and he liked Harold Crick’s watch enough that I got it for him. I wonder if it will spontaneously chime whenever I’m in the vicinity…

03.09.08
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Salt as an evil-repellant

Yesterday, Fritz went to a birthday party which included attending the movie The Spiderwick Chronicles. I’ve not read the books, and hadn’t really heard much about the movie, but I let him go, because he’s nearly ten, the movie was rated PG, and I realize that I can’t hold his hand forever. He, and all my children, will eventually have to live their own life without their mother filtering the things to which they are exposed. It’s things like that which give me growing pains.

He liked it, but admitted it was a little scary. I think he’s proud of himself for braving it without a grownup. This kid, two years ago, could not sit through The Goonies, even with his parents right there telling him it was going to be okay.

This family-friendly review gives it a B+.

Fritz describes the characters putting salt across the windowsills to ward off the monsters or something like that. I find this very curious, since I myself have done the same thing, using blessed salt, especially if the children were having nightmares. I would just like to understand the context under which the salt is used, so if any of you have seen the movie, can you clue me in? (My email address is on the sidebar.)

03.07.08
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Dreaming of brownies

The man and woman were 85 years old, and had been married for sixty years. Though they were far from rich, they managed to get by because they watched their pennies. Though not young, they were both in very good health, largely due to the wife’s insistence on healthy foods and exercise for the last decade.

One day, their good health didn’t help when they went on a rare vacation and their plane crashed, sending them off to Heaven. They reached the pearly gates, and St. Peter escorted them inside. He took them to a beautiful mansion, furnished in gold and fine silks, with a fully stocked kitchen and a waterfall in the master bath. A maid could be seen hanging their favorite clothes in the closet. They gasped in astonishment when he said,

“Welcome to Heaven. This will be your home now.” The old man asked Peter how much all this was going to cost. “Why, nothing,” Peter replied, “Remember, this is your reward in Heaven.”

The old man looked out the window and right there he saw a championship golf course, finer and more beautiful than any ever built on Earth. “What are the greens fees?” grumbled the old man.

“This is heaven,” St. Peter replied. “You can play for free, every day.”

Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with every imaginable cuisine laid out before them, from seafood to steaks to exotic deserts, free flowing beverages. “Don’t even ask,” said St. Peter to the man. “This is Heaven, it is all free for you to enjoy.”

The old man looked around and glanced nervously at his wife. “Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol foods, and the decaffeinated tea?” he asked. “That’s the best part,” St. Peter replied. “You can eat and drink as much as you like of whatever you like, and you will never get fat or sick. This is Heaven!”

The old man pushed, “No gym to work out at?”

“Not unless you want to,” was the answer.

“No testing my sugar or blood pressure or…”

“Never again. All you do here is enjoy yourself.”

The old man glared at his wife and said, “You and your bran muffins. We could have been here ten years ago!”

03.05.08
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More old photos

Upon seeing my posted picture yesterday, my husband said, “I can’t believe I dated a girl with glasses like that!” I retorted, “I can’t believe I dated a dork.”

“A dork?” he said. “Look at me! I’m dashing!”

I married this man because he always keeps me laughing.

In today’s box, I found this photo dated 1989 or 1990. This is his college dorm room (my dorm room was never this messy). Nice computer, huh? That Green Bay metal trash can is still in our possession – we use it for wooden blocks. Also notice the empty Dr. Pepper glass bottle six-pack.
And definitely check out the glasses he’s wearing. He didn’t even need glasses back then (they are reading glasses, and he needs them now). I think we both weighed about 120 lbs in this photo. It was years before I fattened him up enough that I consistently (every day) weighed less than he did. In fact, I still have about 7 pounds on him right now (oh, but just you wait, boy). The boy has no shoulders!

But that’s okay. He was dashing to a young 18 year old.

I dig older men now.
03.05.08
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Blessed are the Self-Centered

Is Angelina Driven to Be a Compulsive Mother? (h/t Danielle Bean)

Several months ago I saw a meme where you bolded the sentences that were true for you. One of them was: People who dress like me are portrayed accurately in movies. I guess they were looking for stereotypes – a goth look or a skaterat look or whatever. I dress like most other moms (T-shirts and comfortable shoes), but I don’t think we have a uniform so to speak. But even if we all dressed exactly alike, I don’t think Hollywood is capable of portraying us or any other normal group of people accurately. I don’t think they have any idea what normal people are really like. This article, which basically addresses Jolie’s role as a mom, is proof of that.

***

“Following a bout with depression, the compulsion to have kids can be a way of self-medicating,” California psychologist Lara Honos-Webb told ABCNEWS.com. “In essence — a distraction and diversion from the inner feeling of emptiness.”

Having kids…at least having more than one or two…is a compulsion. It’s disordered.

***

Studies from NYU’s Center for Advanced Social Science suggest that children from large families don’t fare as well because “parental resources are a fixed pie, and children do better when they get more attention [and money].”

Sure, they do. Rich, spoiled brats are the epitome of well-balanced. It’s all those poor kids who have had to spend their whole childhood sharing and taking turns that grow up to have inner feelings of emptiness.

***

Jolie is not the first Hollywood celebrity to display her children like jewels.

I mean, my goodness, it’s one thing to have children, and quite another to actually spend time with them. Get a nanny for goodness sake!

***

Psychologists say depression is not uncommon among Mother Earth types like Farrow and Jolie. Mother Teresa, the giver of all givers, suffered from clinical depression most of her life, according to a recent story in Time magazine.

“Just as reports revealed a severe 25-year long case of depression for Mother Teresa, any person who rescues others so much so that they neglect or abandon their own spirit, might be headed for a similar state of overwhelm and depression,” said Honos-Webb, who wrote about the topic in her book “Listening to Depression” and has written several books about depression, parenting and the psychology of pregnancy and birthing.

Self-centeredness is the key to true happiness.

***

Having babies can sometimes keep personal problems at bay.

“[It] keeps you busy — if not through adoption, than in pregnancy, you get the oxytocin [often called the ‘hormone of love’] bursts,” said Honos-Webb. “You get attention from other people and you define your own role — all those things manage depression.”

And this is bad. Drugs are a much better way to handle depression. Drugs and therapists. If having babies and raising children makes you happy, you need help.

***

Having children to find happiness is a “recipe for a mental health disaster,” according to Honos-Webb, who coins the phenomenon a “Mother Theresa complex.” The result can be a failure to attach emotionally, causing eating disorders and depression in the children.

“There is such an imbalance to give and not to take,” she said. “On the one hand, Mother Theresa was a saint, but on the other hand, it was a perfect formula for major depression.”

Sainthood ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Really, is eternal happiness worth a few decades of depression? You can’t give, give, give all the time. What’s in it for you? Altruism is so very unhealthy.

***
But, said Honos-Webb, “any psychologist can tell you appearances have nothing to do with a person’s state of mental health. Having a parent who is emotionally disturbed will definitely show up in ways that you won’t see on camera.”

Again, let’s look at Mother Teresa. She looked like she handled her life with joy, but she was depressed. The world is a better place for her labors, but so what? Her personal happiness suffered, and that is the tragedy.

***

Meanwhile, psychologists say Jolie may, indeed, have a real spirituality to her that motivates her to help others.

“That happens being a mother and it’s not pathology,” said Honos-Webb. “It’s a good thing, but it has to be balanced with everyday concerns and attending to your own health.”

“In some ways,” she said, “saving the world is easier than facing our own inner world of emptiness.”

Yes, some amount of giving and self-sacrifice is part of motherhood, but please keep in mind that your personal mental health is paramount. Be sure to retain a certain amount of time and energy to do things just for you. It’s not being selfish, it’s being healthy.

***

Christians call it dying to oneself. Realizing that it’s not all about you.

Hollywood calls it deranged.

Note: depression for mothers is real and not funny. Nowhere in that article does it state as a fact that Angelina Jolie has depression of any kind. The idiots interviewed are speculating that she might be depressed based on her “compulsive” desire to have a lot of children. Women who are depressed should seek counseling from someone other than a celebrity columnist. No mother should feel guilty for having personal time away from her children, especially if it gives fathers more time with them.