Author Archives: michellereitemeyer

05.11.07
by

Easy money

Among the long list of questions asked at my initial OB appointment was if I had any hobbies or activities that would be affected by my pregnancy. With as straight a face as I could manage, I replied that my part-time job as a stripper was beginning to suffer.

New York wants to make strippers get a license to dance. I skimmed through this article which offers not much of interest to me, except for the quote that dancers at one club earn six-figures, which they don’t necessarily declare on their tax returns. Holy cow. How do you convince a twenty-something young woman that this is just not a good way to make money?

05.11.07
by

New Blog Spotlight

G.I. June (Cleaver) – Homefront support from a team of moms who love our country.

And if you don’t know Jennie’s little army, you should read this. What she describes is all too familiar. “Like lifting a scab,” is how my husband described my reaction to reading it. Ay-yup.

05.10.07
by

Hot Off the Press

Press Release

Right now, women across the United States and the blogosphere are searching thrift stores, ebay, and their mother’s linen drawers for aprons to wear May 14th. Some are making their own. Wearing their aprons inside and outside of their homes, Apron Moms will celebrate their pivotal role in making a house a home.

As the search for domestic bliss continues, a search that includes cleaning and decluttering, cooking tasty nutritious meals, educating children, and the care and feeding of husbands, women will celebrate the difference they make in the lives of their families. They know an apron is like a uniform that conveys authority, unconditional regard, and motherly wisdom all at once. Apron Moms know aprons are about cooking and cleaning but they are also about emotional availablity, hospitality, and femininity.

On Monday, May 14th, apron wearing women will drop children off at school,
go to the post office and grocery store, and greet their families at the door
wearing their aprons. Some will go to their work outside of the home. But
regardless of where they spend most of their day, they will post pictures on
their blogs of the places they boldly wear their aprons.

There will be a virtual cocktail party at 5pm CST to giggle about our experiences, to toast the internet’s role in bringing us together, and to plan next year’s Apron Mom March on Washington.

The devil very well may wear Prada but authentically feminine women wear
aprons!

For further information, please email the Kitchen Madonna at kitchenmadonna@mac.com.

Alas, next year I won’t be in the DC area to host any marchers, and photos for the boys’ baseball team are right at the time of the virtual cocktail party. I’ll make a virtual gin and tonic and toast apron-wearers throughout history while the boys pose for their mug shots. Do I dare wear an apron to such an event?

If you don’t have an apron, maybe it’s time to check out KM’s Etsy shop. Surely, she has a style and pattern that will suit your kitchen. Be sure to tell her that I sent you.
05.10.07
by

Time for chores

My day began with Billy throwing up. And doing so rather untidily. He’s rarely sick, so I’m trying not to alarm myself with irrational fears that he caught some incurable and deadly disease at the pediatrician’s office yesterday when he crab-walked on the floor. I’m usually pretty calm about dirt and germs, but the two places where I pretty much freak-out (as much as I am capable of freaking out) about my kids touching things, especially the floor, are doctors’ offices and public restrooms.

I think the pregnancy hormones are making me a bit more panicky than normal.

Thankfully, there is absolutely nothing on my calender for today. Just school.

And my ever-growing to-do list. So, I’ll push-up my sleeves, get out the rug shampooer, and start tackling those chores before the sun’s beckoning rays drag us outside. And today, Petey will get his nap, yes, indeed.

05.09.07
by

Cool, calm, collected…and clean

After getting my IV of coffee this morning, I set to work paying bills online and balancing my checkbook and other thrilling activities that are pretty mindless. Around 730 am, I realized that Pete wasn’t awake yet, even though he’s usually up and about long before 7 am.

Despite nearly 9 years of mommydom, I had a momentary wave of hysteria pass through my body as I thought that possibly something terrible had happened.

And then I instantly calmed myself by remembering that he’s been skimping on naps recently (my fault, not his), and his poor little body was just trying to make up for his missed rests.

Then I thought of Jenny throwing up in her sleep while lying on her back. That sort of a thing killed Elvis; God was looking out for her last night, I am sure. And then I remembered that Billy had thrown up before bed and how my husband’s stomach was upset and I had told him (around 3 am) that we obviously had some sort of virus in the house.

What if Pete had the virus too? What if he had thrown up in his sleep? What if he hadn’t been as lucky as Jenny? Those cold fingers of fear encircled my heart and began to slowly squeeze it.

I had not yet showered. I knew that if I went into his room and peeked in on him, he would wake up and it would be another half hour until I got in the shower. I knew that if I went into his room and he were dead, I likely would not get a shower today at all! And what could I really change about his vital signs by postponing my shower? At the very least, I wouldn’t be apologizing to the police for my appearance and smell if I took a shower first. It would be one less stressor in the tragic situation, knowing that my armpits were powder-fresh.

And so I took my shower, and when I was done, Petey was happily playing with Fritz downstairs. Fritz said he woke up one minute after I went upstairs.

It’s a good thing I didn’t debate much longer.

05.09.07
by

Pregnancy Insomnia

It all started with Katie coming in just before 2:30 am and saying, “Mom, Jenny sounds like she’s throwing up.” She was. While sleeping on her back. I had to wake her up to wash her hair and change her sheets and clothes.

The next thing I knew, it was 4 am and I was still awake and trying to get to sleep, and Bill’s alarm started going off because he needed to get up. I relocated to the couch so his half hour snooze session wouldn’t prolong the onset of my much needed slumber.

I’m not yet thinking straight, and I have a jam-packed day with no time for naps. I’m “taking” my coffee now and soon hope to rejoin the land of the coherent and non-babbling.

Good morning, world.

05.08.07
by

Forgive, or Forget?

In the not too distant past, I forgave a transgression against me. Or so I thought.

It was a whopper of a transgression, and yet the magnitude of the crime made it that much easier to be relatively calm and charitable about the whole event. It’s all those pesky little sins to which we hold tight because we can wrap our fingers around them: a hurtful comment, a thoughtless gesture, even an impersonal traffic violation on the part of a stranger can fire us up all day long. But if someone does some egregious thing and especially if they somehow manage to be defensive about the situation whether from embarrassment or from affected ignorance of how terribly their actions have hurt you, it is too difficult to carry that burden of anger. It is simpler to just forgive their sin and move on. Or so I thought.

Well over a decade ago, a very silly close relative of mine did a youthfully foolish and illegal thing. She used my name and social security number to obtain credit at local department stores, where she then racked up a load of debt. I was mad and didn’t want to have much to do with her for some time. I let the police handle the situation, and I trudged away with shoulders sagging from the weight of resentment and shock.

Two years later, I was getting married. This relative had repented and changed. I thought about the rest of my life, straining hard to see into the far distant future. I thought about the anger and the difficulties in dragging that baggage with me everywhere I went as I had been for two years. I decided I didn’t want to maintain a strained relationship, and so I included her in my wedding. Everyone lauded me my generous act, and the relative was very grateful. But I knew two things. One: it is not very heroic to decide to stop expending your own personal energy in a negative way. Two: choosing to forgive does not bring instantaneous healing.

In fact, the first step in choosing to forgive seemed to be choosing to forget. I could will myself to not view this person as a thief. I could will myself to focus on her positive behavior and characteristics. I could will myself to act polite and charitable and even pleasant. But our relationship was not what it had been before the whole sordid affair. Charity is one thing; actually liking someone is quite another. That part took quite some time. Naturally, the process was speeded by a willful desire on both our parts to make it so. And thank God for these miracles, since she’s now my best friend.

Fast forward to last year and this other situation and this other person who did something even worse. I knew, from experience, that the anger wasn’t worth the effort. And so I forgave her. Or so I thought.

In the last week, an email prayer chain from my old parish has included this person in the list for serious health reasons. My reaction has been less than kind, I must confess. It’s not that I wish ill upon her; it’s more that smug satisfaction that comes from thinking what goes around comes around. Perhaps if she were a bit more right with God, bad luck would not constantly darken her skies with storm clouds. Perhaps these health issues “conveniently” come at a time when she needs extra sympathy and generosity from her latest scam victim.

Awful. Plain awful.

These thoughts are so shockingly uncharitable that I have been forced to really look at myself and how I have personally handled the situation in my heart. Obviously, I have not forgiven her. Obviously, I have not even taken that first step of forgetting the transgression – of thinking of her in a charitable way. Instead, I took a step in the opposite direction and forgot the sin by putting it and her completely out of my mind. No, I haven’t been burdened with anger and resentment, because I have opted to pretend that it never happened.

Pray for your enemies. Not pray that they treat you better or that their lives improve so that your own life will improve, but rather pray for their health and their well-being for their own sake. Since she is not a close relative and wasn’t even a close friend, I don’t think that the sort of healing that I sought in my other situation is necessary. But if we are to share in the Kingdom, I will have to spend all of eternity with her, right? I hope that by praying for her health, I can take the first step toward a truer forgiveness and possibly be able to pray the Lord’s Prayer without shame.

“…forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us…”
05.07.07
by

Getting old, going blind

My husband is 2 years and 7 months older than I am. As he ages, and as his body begins to show that age, I hear the warning alarms for the rapidly approaching demise of my own youth.

Recently, he was diagnosed with arthritis in his knee. I guess it’s common among athletes to suffer early onset of this in particular joints that took a significant beating. Fencing and cross-country running seemed to have done it for him. Nevertheless, hearing the term “arthritis” – an old person’s problem – applied to your husband is a bit hard. On the one hand, there are days I feel quite old with my own aches and stiffness. On the other hand, I’m in my 30’s – I’m young! He’s in his 30’s – he’s young! Young people do not have arthritis.

Also recently, he has noticed difficulty in reading printed material. He knows it’s time to get his eyes checked and that he will likely be prescribed reading glasses. Now, besides arthritis, I can’t think of another problem that screams “old person” than the inability to see small print that is right under your nose. I’ve been teasing him a lot about it. We’ve been playing the “can you read this?” game.

For years, we’ve played the “can you see that?” game. I am horribly near-sighted. Without my glasses, objects three feet away are blurry. My husband, Mr. Perfect Eyes, has found this to be amusing and fascinating. He would ask me to describe my world as I would see it without corrective lenses. To him, it was incredible that clear white letters on huge green street sign were not only not readable, but that I couldn’t even discern that there were letters there at all. Average costs for LASIK surgery are about $2000 per eye. I’ve recently been considering starting a special fund to have this done. It would be nice to be able to see the clock on the bedside table.

Yesterday, I had my own eye exam. It’s been more than 18 months, and it was time for a bit of tweaking to my prescription. The doctor, in his list of questions, mentioned I was still a little young, but…am I having any trouble reading things? I told him about my teasing my husband for just this issue, and he severely advised me to stop laughing at him. When you need reading glasses, and I don’t say “if,” I say “when,” he will be laughing at you! Yes, doctor.

For now, though, thank goodness, I am spared the bifocals. Perhaps I’ll save my pennies and have that corrective surgery done just in time to replace my near-sighted lenses with far-sighted ones. And then the laugh really will be on me.