I'll take tact for 500, Alex.

I hear this term "healthy debate" all the time.  Okay...  I know healthy debates exist and that many people are capable of having them.  I, on the other hand, struggle with this.  Debates are generally not healthy for me because they come with side effects like high blood pressure, sleeplessness, and that curse known as the inability to move on.

There is a time and place for debate, and it doesn't have to be adversarial.  Debate is, by definition, the discussion of two opposing view points.  It doesn't have to be emotional (but for me it automatically is) and it doesn't have to be about winning (but for me everything is).  I believe healthy debate is aimed at enlightening one another on topics about which we tend to have one opinion, the only right opinion...in our own humble opinion. 

While I love learning about everything and feel strongly about many things, I tend to be a listener rather than a debater.  I will listen to two people debate each other all day long, especially when it's without name-calling and condescension.  As soon as those two people turn to me for my opinion, I start to sweat.  And I mean profusely.  I start thinking about the implications of giving my opinion.  Automatically I assume that one of them will not like me if I don't side with them.  (I'm serious.  Apparently, I'm still in middle school.)  I'm afraid that I will hurt someone's feelings, that they will think less of me, that they will think I'm anything from uneducated to elitist, from too liberal to too conservative, from merciless to overly compassionate.  And depending on the subject matter, I'm probably a little bit of all of that (among other things).

The reason I assume that people will label me such things if I give my true opinion is because I do it.  I wholeheartedly albeit ashamedly admit that I am a snap-labeler.  (And the list of character flaws continues to grow....)  But hey, admitting it is the first step, right?  This so called snap-labeling is actually just a nice way of saying that I cast judgment.  It's not that I mean to judge the opinions of others, it just kind of...happens.  Judgment is dangerous.  It insinuates superiority.  It suggests that any of us actually have the authority to judge.  It also prevents us from learning.  Judgment is a barrier. 

It is important for me to note that judgment of someone's opinion on one issue is not the same thing as a judgment of that person.  My own fear of being judged is fed by my lack of confidence and perhaps, because I know that my opinions are not air-tight.  That's why debate is healthy.  It will either change your mind or solidify your original opinion.

Aside from the fear of being snap-labeled, I have a bigger problem with debating.  It's the potential for things to get ugly.  Fast.  I was born into a family of peacemakers (at least, I like to think of it that way.  What we actually do is deny that there's a problem at all, but I digress...).  We have a tendency to sugar-coat things ad nauseum, so as not to make people upset.  What we say is the truth, it's just with carefully chosen words so that we offend as few people as possible.

There's not necessarily anything wrong with that.  Though it's probably a little overkill sometimes.

It sets me up for a list though.  You're going to love it.  (Maybe.)

Jennie's Keys to Healthy Debate
1.  Know what you believe and why.  (Well, duh, right?  But so many people believe something only because they have been told it's what they should believe.)
2.  Say what you want to say in such a way that you "make your point without making an enemy".  (That, friends, is the definition of tact.)

Tact is something our culture lacks.  Kind of like chivalry (which is not completely dead...yet), tact is dying.  We have become so self-centered as a society, that we do not care who we offend, how we say what we believe, or what other people believe is right for them.  We disregard the opinions and feelings of others to pursue our own individual agendas.  I believe that debate (or discussion) can be healthy and is often necessary.  It's how we recognize alternatives.  Debate might not change someone's mind, but it can plant a seed.  The fate of the seed is often unknown.  The seed might ultimately sprout or it might die where it was planted.  But the first step is to plant it.

Seeds aren't generally successful at sprouting when you squash them between your fingertips, throw them on the ground, shove them into the hard dirt by mashing them with the toe of your boot, and walk away.  Seeds require care.  They require a gentle touch.  The soil where the seed will be planted has to be prepped, loosened.  When the seed is in the ground, it's not over.  It needs sunlight, water, and sometimes (for those hard-to-grow types) it requires the extra boost of a little fertilizer simply to grow. 

You can approach the same scenario in two very different ways and come away with two very different results.  The same applies to debate.  If the goal is to convince others that you are in the right, then it matters very much HOW you say what you say, not just what you're saying. No one I have ever known enjoys being ground into the dirt with the toe of a boot.

And that's it, folks.  A two item list.  Now it's time for me to take my own advice and get debating discussing.

And the Mom things continue...

You've heard of and dealt with projectile vomiting many a time, but you are also familiar with the phenomenon of projectile medicine.  This occurs when your children are given any type of medicine other than the beloved "pink stuff" and includes involuntary spraying out of the mouth, most often characterized by the fact that you end up wearing more of it on your shirt than they actually swallow.  The incidence of projectile medicine increases exponentially when you and/or the child are dressed and ready to go somewhere.

There is something about missing out on those last 5-10 minutes of sleep they would have gotten had you not had to wake them up for school/church/an appointment that turns them from the normal angelic child they are into the devil incarnate. 

One of your biggest successes in parenting life is to be able to say, "Hooray!  We weren't that late!"

You keep a "small" stash of snacks in your car in case of emergency.  You never know when you might end up stuck in traffic, stranded in the snowy mountains, or spending an extra three hours at a doctors appointment that should have taken five total minutes.

Of course the best things in life are free, but you also know that some of life's greatest treasures cost one dollar or less, like a bag of popcorn at Target, those little rubber figurines that grow when you put them in water, and $ store coloring books.

You now know not to brag about how healthy your children have been lately.  This will only bring about an onslaught of sickness, including four infected ears and a fridge full of antibiotics.

Because it was Easter, you attempted to get all of your kids to smile and look at the camera, and you got this in the process -

If that doesn't sum it all up in one picture, nothing does.

Outlandish statements made by your children become your primary source of entertainment.  For instance, you overheard this conversation the other day while your husband was bathing your three year old:

3yo:  Why did you take your glasses off, Daddy?
Daddy:  Because I put my contacts in.  Does that bother you?
3yo:  Yes.  It makes me very angry.

And on the way to school:

3yo:  Why is CVS closed?
Me:  They don't open until 8 o'clock.
3yo:  But I see a light on.
Me:  I guess they do that so people don't come in and steal things.
3yo:  But why don't they want people to steal things, Mama?

You've experienced the hallow leg syndrome.  That is, approximately 10 minutes after you get up from a full meal, one or all of your children approach you and say, "I'm still hungry."  Really?  Where are they putting that food?

You're a little frightened by your daughter's amazing acting abilities after she convinced you that she dropped her shoe out of the car window the other day (only to find out she had tucked it down next to her in the carseat).  What is mostly-innocent fun right now could easily transform into full-fledged, convincing lies down the road.  Perhaps you won't encourage her to pursue the dramatic arts after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. - Not sure what the significance is, and half of the hits are probably me, but I realized in passing that we've reached over 10,000 page views.  Not too shabby!  Thanks for reading. 

ahh, Ahhh, AHHH-CHOO!!!!!!

Remember how much I said I love springtime?  I stand by that.  I think.  It's just that I always seem to question myself when The Pollen comes down.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with springtime in the south, you wouldn't understand that The Pollen is indeed a proper noun.

I witness the phenomenon that is The Pollen every year, but I have to admit it seems worse this spring.  Every year the cars are tinged in yellow.  Some years it seems as if there's a yellow haze on the horizon.  But this year, The Pollen seems almost alive.  A plague o' Pollen, if you will.

I should have known it was coming when I read this article on the local news website, entitled 2010 Allergy Season Short but Intense.  Thanks to the torrential downpours monsoons rain we got in the earlier part of the year, and an unseasonably cold winter for central Georgia, the plants and trees decided to wait to blossom all at one time.  An optimist would look at this as a more beautiful spring, but the realist sees this as a nightmare for allergy sufferers.  Pollen of this magnitude makes even the least allergic people feel the effects.  (It's true!  I've heard lots of complaints as I eavesdrop my way through daily life.)

In case words don't do it justice (because they don't and can't), here are some pictures for you.  You may have to click on them to enlarge for the full effect.

These are the tracks through the pollen on our driveway.  You might typically see tracks like this on a dirt road in a drought, or a paved road in the snow but notsomuch on a driveway - because of pollen.

I mean, ick.  If the roads looks like this, so do the insides of our lungs, and even grosser, the undersides of our eyelids!

Here is the doorknob to my office building that I try so hard not to have to touch every morning when I unlock it.

These are the steps that lead up to the dusty doorknob.  The front face of them is the appropriate brick color, the top appears to be a little mildewy or just dirty.  I assure you, it's just covered in The Pollen.

It comes, then, as no surprise at all that this is the pollen forecast,

...hampered only in the slightest by the threat of thunderstorms on Thursday.

I'm no pediatrician, but I am a mom, and I'm blaming my sweet little girls' recent double ear infections on this madness.  And in the spirit of optimism (which, I assure you does not come naturally to me), may this short-but-intense allergy season be over, well, shortly!

And because you'll no doubt need a few of these (or, if you're like me, about twenty of these in rapid succession):

"God Bless You!"

Six year olds are full of it.

And by "it", I mean all of those things you want to write down in the baby book, but can never seem to remember when you pull the thing out.

Ben had a whole weekend full of those things.  Darned if I can remember them now...

But first, I have to back way up.  Because I love for you to have as many details as possible, thereby making even the shortest stories long.  There's no such thing as "long story short" on this blog.  No sir or ma'am.

You see, we're building a playground in our backyard.  To call it a playset or swingset would be a misnomer.  It was inspired by this:

 

What this means is that my industrious husband spent lots of time ciphering with a calculator and spreadsheets, planning out each detail so that we could bring this to our backyard.

Then he rented a truck and hauled a couple of tons of lumber to our driveway.  

(I can't tell a lie, we could stop the project right now and I'd be okay with it.  Just because I got to see Sam drive that gigantic truck.)  Over the next few days, my dad and Ben carried that wood to the backyard.  (Thanks guys!  And hey, I helped...a little.  I carried six whole 10-foot 4x4's.  Then it got dark, so I quit.)

Then the construction started.  And it appears that we could just build an empty shell of a playground and it would be as much fun for the kids.

 

As Sam, my dad, and I worked as a team to fasten the pieces together with giant lag bolts, Ben watched with excited anticipation.  It was a process that involved three different drill bits, one of which was a socket bit to get the bolt into the wood.  The drill Sam used to do the latter was a corded drill.  It is so powerful that I am actually scared to use it.  When the bolt makes it all the way into the wood, the drill keeps going, even after the bit won't turn anymore.  It was jerking my dad's and Sam's arms all over the place.  I'm not confident enough in my wrist strength to be able to resist it's torquing power.  I voiced this out loud to Sam and my dad.  "My wrists just aren't very strong.  I'm scared to use that drill."

And that's when Ben chimed in.  With a chortle as he sat on his duff drinking some sweet tea in the shade, he said, "Heh.  That's because boys are stronger."

Really, Ben?  I had no idea chauvinism was instinctual.  Or do they teach small boys these things in school?  He's lucky I'm not one of those women, or he'd have gotten a swift kick in the you-know-where.  Instead, I couldn't do much but chuckle myself.  The irony of him saying something like that while sitting on his duff drinking sweet tea in the shade was too much.

On Easter Sunday, we took a break from playground construction to do more Easter-y things, like celebrate Jesus's victory over death at church.  We even got a pretty good shot of all three kids all dressed up in their Easter finest.  

Then, we did those other things, like decorate bunny cakes and hunt for eggs.  When the front yard egg hunt was over, Sam checked out some sidewalk chalk that the kids had done with Grandmom the day before.  Upon noticing this one, Ben made the comment that "Abby draws potato people."  

If there's a more appropriate name for that little dude, let me know.   Personally, I think Ben nailed it.  There you have it.  Potato people.

In an effort to make this "short story" no longer than it already is, I'll wrap this up.  I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and even better Easter.  May we all take time to remember that it is about more than bunnies, cute little girl hats, and egg hunts.  It's about the greatest gift that you and I have ever been given.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.  For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world should be saved through Him. John 3:16-17

For Accountability

What better way to stay motivated than to post to the entire interweb that I intend to do something INCREDIBLE in the month of April?  Call it an April Resolution, if you want to, since those January/New Year's things don't really work, but this is the goal:  to exercise every single day in the month of April.

After having a good bit of success with dropping some pounds back in November and December, I have allowed my eating habits to maintain a holiday pace, and have (of course) packed some of those pounds back on.  If you know me at all, you know that my sun rises and sets on food.  I realize that this is not a healthy mindset, but it is who I am.  It's been me for 26 years now.  So that's something that will be very hard to undo.  To be honest, I'm not really even sure that I want to.  I've always kind of felt that exercising was my excuse to eat those foods that I love so dearly.  The problem is that my daily life no longer includes this exercise of which I speak and on which I rely.  So, it's time to change that.  (Especially with summer and bathing suit weather being just around the corner.)

I should tell you that I try not to let the list consume me, but I do tend to keep it in the back of my mind at most times.  There are any number of list items that would help me drop some pounds:

1. Get up when Sam gets up for one month. (0/31) -  If I woke up that early, I would definitely have time for exercise.

25. Drink nothing but water for a week. - As I sit in my office drinking some super-sugary from-a-can cappuccino beverage...  I've progressed leaps and bounds from what I used to be, that is a coke addict (Coca-cola, of course), but I've clearly made up for those missing calories with other things...like cookies.

26. Cook a vegetarian meal. - This would be especially beneficial if incorporated into our menu, say, weekly.


28. Complete a 30 Day Challenge on EA Active. (0/30)  - Okay, to be honest, this is an okay workout, but I'm not sure how well it will help me "lose weight".  It couldn't hurt though.  My problem with this one is that I have trouble sticking with *anything* for 30 days.

30. Play tennis with Sam at least ten times, no matter how horribly he kicks my tail.(0/10)  - I'm ashamed to admit that we haven't done this once in the six months I've been trying to complete list tasks.  I'm also ashamed to admit that I am one of those people who used to scoff at tennis as a "fake" sport.  Then I tried it, and holy cow, it's hard. 

Of course, all of these would help to achieve the following:

27. Reach two new "tens-places" in my weight.  (For instance, if I start at 480lbs, I need to get to 460.)

45. Fit into or give away all of the clothes in my closet.  

And as a progression on 24. Run a 5K., I have decided to sign up for a 10K.  Running is like crack - in a slightly more healthy, but just as demented way.  (And since I can convince myself of anything, I have already talked myself out of the 10K that the local mall is hosting in August.  I mean, seriously, is it even safe to run 10K in August in Georgia?  That sounds like suicide.)

If I weren't so chicken (and embarrassed to admit it), I would post my starting weight here.  But I am, so I won't.  Let's just say, it's a bigger number than it should be.  Let me also say that I don't hate my body, especially after all that it's been through in the past seven years.  I just know it can be better than it is.  I know I can be healthier than I am.  So, here's hoping that a small lifestyle change can make a small difference (or more optimistically, a big difference!).

So this is it.  April 1st.  And as much as I would like to say "April Fools! HAHAHA.  I can't believe you fell for that!", I am actually embarking on a 30 day commitment to exercise.

Thanks for the support!  And as always, thanks for reading!