Mindy and Max's True Life Blog

The Fearless Coping of ADHD, A soon-to-be First Grader, Single Motherhood and Life. Not just any life…our life. And, we wouldn't change a thing.

A few thoughts about perfection…or lack there of. September 9, 2010

Filed under: Funny Shit,Love,Mad Mindy Stories — Mindy Hester @ 2:13 am

Good evening, class. I ask you all to please take your seats and open up to a clean, crisp, fresh page in your notebooks and ready your freshly sharpened #2′s. Because, I am only going to give this lecture once.

Tonight’s lesson is about perfection.
or..
relentless pursuit of;
or the lack of;
or the insistence of;
or the practice and the subsequent failure of;
and finally, the conflict that arises when one wants perfection (and I’m not talking “perfect” perfect, I’m talking about giving yourself that much-needed push to take it to the next level and grow) but the other four want mediocrity. The other four are happy with mediocrity, with stasis with being just okay. And it doesn’t make these four “bad, lazy failure”-types, not by a long shot. These four are talented, creative and pretty fantastic people. The problem is that a member of the aforementioned creative group ( okay..fine..it’s me.) isn’t comfortable with presenting a project that is just “fine”. I hate that word fine. “How are you?” “Oh, I’m FINE”. Do you want to know what I think the hidden message is in that response? It goes like this..

“How are you?”
“Oh, I’m (bored, unchallenged, unmotivated, uninspired, brain-dead and numb from the waist down AND up, chronically and pathetically asleep and unHAPPY” but “fine”. And you?”

Oscar Wilde was once quoted as saying “Perfectionism is a slow, slow death”. But, I am an artist, whether you think my shit is art is your problem. I happen to LOVE my art and I can’t share something I am not proud of. So, when the other four decided that I was too “intense” for them, that didn’t surprise me at all. Not a bit. I wasn’t intense, I was just driven. And, I understand them and what they want from this, I really do. I just have a bigger fire in me that knows that making music is something that keeps me alive. And sane. And happy.

I thank them for allowing me access to their cave and letting me scream like Janis/Axel/Debbie/Iggy one night a week into a dented Shure SM58. But, continuing to sit in that cave would have killed me in the long run. So I have more to thank them for than I first thought.

By the way, I had to get a babysitter for all those rehearsals. If I did the math correctly, at $12/hour, 4 rehearsals (3 hours a piece) …well, it looks like I am out $144.00. You guys can send me a check or cash. I’m flexible.

Rock On! Rally Day! I look forward to the day 10 years from now when I happen by that cave and you are all still there…playing in the band.

 

Darwinian Dating: The Book, The Blog, The Quest September 4, 2010

Filed under: Funny Shit,Love,Mad Mindy Stories — Mindy Hester @ 7:36 pm
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Hello Family & Friends. Happy Labor Day weekend to you all. I hope you have many exciting and fascinating things planned, and that there isn’t a minute to spare come Tuesday morning when you all go back to work and school. Max & I will be taking in a pint of Mead and a tournament of Joust tomorrow when we go with friends to the Renaissance Fair. Wish me luck, I have a very low tolerance for make believe historical spectacles like this. But, it will be funny to get Max to call one of the girls “wench” and get it on camera. Good, clean family fun.

So, as most of you know by now I met my brother Chris a few weeks ago and it was fascinating and fun and amazing and I loved it! We just kind of hung out, talked a LOT, spent time with Max and my family (who loved him) and got to know each other. It was like coming home. He is a brilliant PhD, and author, writer, Heavy Metal enthusiast who brought me a piece of his wedding Kilt and taught me the art of Scotch. He’s unique, except that he is so much like me that it’s scary.

Chris is writing a book, titled “Darwinian Dating”, about finding your perfect mate using the laws of evolution, or really more like what men and woman are looking for down to their base human core. He’s got a blog and I want everyone to log in at least once. It’s www.darwiniandating.blogspot.com. The book is ready to be published but the publisher wants to see more hits to the blog, and to his fan page on Facebook. No one deserves this more than him, so help me get those numbers up. Tell your friends, tell your spouse, tell your mailman! Tell anyone who you know that could use a little up-front and honest advice about the opposite sex. Tell that friend of yours who keeps sitting by the phone waiting for that one guy she met at Starbucks 3 weeks ago to call her, or the guy you know from work who asks you out over and over and over. Hell, email every single one of your past romances and tell them that if they are still holding on…Chris can help them cut the cord. I love my brother and I want to see this happen for him. So….GO. NOW! Use the link, join the Darwinian Dating page on Facebook. Make me happy.

 

Funeral For A Friend Indeed! Toot! Toot! July 1, 2010

Filed under: Funny Shit,Mad Max Stories,Mad Mindy Stories,Uncategorized — Mindy Hester @ 10:14 pm
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RIP Thomas The Tank Engine

Yesterday Max came up to me while I was doing some gardening and said “Mommy, I need your help. I want to bury something.” So, I said “OK, what do you want to bury, is it the cat? Because we talked about this before and I told you what would happen.” He said “No, it’s not the cat. Or the Dog. But, It’s something very special to me and I have to let it go”. He is 6 years old. Six year old’s don’t talk like my kid talks, they don’t FEEL the kind of emotional depth that my kid feels. He’s like a little Buddha, I swear he inspires the hell out of me.

So, I start to dig the hole and he goes into the house to get this special “thing” that he needs to “let go”. (Sorry for all the quotation marks) It’s hot, I dig, I don’t mind because I am thinking to myself that this is gonna be good. Real good.

He walk out carrying his Thomas The Tank Engine original train, cradling it like it had accidentally drown in the tub and he was in shock at what he beheld. He was so tender and gentle, he laid Thomas down in the hole I had dug and quietly asked me to fill it in. I did, as he stood by and watched in silence. When Thomas was good and buried I said “Max, tell Mommy why you wanted to…” ….only to be interrupted by him as he shuushed me. He said “Mom, there is something I’d like to say. Thomas, Thank you for being my friend and playing with me for so many years. But, I am a big boy now, and it’s time that we say goodbye. So goodbye. Now I am going to play with Star Wars Jedi’s and that’s what big boys do. I will miss you.” I am speechless and wishing that I had a video camera on me at ALL TIMES, because this kid does some wild shit. He said “Mommy, would you like to say a few words?”. Can you believe this shit! So, I say” Thomas, thanks for making my boy so happy. But, I guess he’s growing up now and it’s time to move on. Rest in peace, and thanks for the memories”. Max put a flower on Thomas’ “grave” and declared himself a BIG BOY.

I told the BIG BOY that now that things are different and he has buried his “Baby-dom”, he needs to step up to the plate around the house. First thing on the list? Go take out the garbage.

Growing up, what a trip.

 

An Obituary. April 3, 2010

Filed under: Funny Shit,Love,Spirit — Mindy Hester @ 12:31 pm
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In Loving Memory…

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; life isn’t always fair; and maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their own children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student, but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses, and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home, and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled some in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I’m A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Thanks to my Dad for his undying common sense.

 

Mama did a bad, bad thing. But, you can’t die from lack of sleep can you? February 10, 2010

Filed under: Funny Shit,Mad Max Stories,Occupational Therapy — Mindy Hester @ 9:37 pm
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When Max was born I was already on my own. Night feedings were brutal, the days passed in a cloud of sameness, routine and persistent body odor from lack of a single moment to take care of myself. I think back on it now as a year long acid trip, not a bad one, just a really exhausting one.

So when Max turned 4 years old we ditched the crib and bought the famed “BIG BOY BED”. What a landmark event, what an accomplishment. Then what a huge mistake I then made. One that I am paying for EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

It’s a mistake I am sure some of you out there are making on this very night. I did this: I tucked him into bed, snuggled up next to him and stayed with him until he fell asleep. I loved doing this, hearing the change in the pattern of his breathing as he finally drifted off. It was the best part of my day. But, in doing so I taught my son that the only way that he can comfort himself is with me right there next to him. He is now unable to find a safe, cozy place of his own to sleep, all by himself. I lost out on teaching him how to comfort himself, how to feel safe alone and how to be okay being alone.

Because of this, I have NOT slept alone since. Oh, there is no hot guy lying next to me, but a beautiful 5-year-old boy who can’t get comfortable without me. He falls asleep in his own bed but it’s not a few hours later when he crawls back into mine. I pick him up and put him back into his, he waits a few minutes and the process starts over again. It lasts all night. He can’t sleep without me, he is almost 6 years old. I am 40 and I am sleeping every night with a 5-year-old. With help from his OT we have tried lots of tricks:

1. I set up my camping tent right on top of his bed, made him a little hideie-hole. Didn’t work, came down 2 weeks later.

2. Charts, Charts, Charts!!!!!!! I am so sick of charts. The reward system didn’t work for this one. He still came into my bed even with the prospect of being able to go to Toys R Us and pick out anything in the store.

3. The taking away of his Lego’s- May I never have to live through that again, dear G-d. And if you know me, you know I went through some acute withdrawal myself on that one.

4. We put a light up picture frame by his bed with a picture of me. When he wakes up and misses me he reaches over, kisses the picture and goes back to sleep. Piece of Costco crap broke the first night.

5. Melatonin- works. Then he wakes up. You can’t double dose (I asked the pharmacist).

6. Now we are here: He has to ask permission to enter my bed. I am supposed to not utter a word, but get up and escort him back to his bed without speaking. This is where i am stuck. Damn, I’m tired and just want to sleep so 3/4 of the time i just roll over, let him in and go to sleep. Do you blame me? I mean, where’s my 6-8 hours? Bright eyed and bushy-tailed is folklore. Aesop got enough sleep. He was the last.

What do you do? How do you get the kid out of your bed when half the time you can’t stand it and the other half of the time it’s like heaven. Sweet dreams, Max. I hope the restraints I used tonight on you aren’t too tight. Give me a shout if they are, I’ll come loosen them.

Love,
Mommy

 

Give Birth, Eat A Little Something, Shit… then die. February 7, 2010

Filed under: Funny Shit,Love,Mad Mindy Stories,Spirit,Uncategorized,Welcome! — Mindy Hester @ 11:51 pm
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Over the course of the day (actually more like the course of a week, but I am trying not to sound too pathetic) I have been watching very patiently for my female fancy guppy fish to give birth. I have done this before (geek) so I know what to look for and when to expect on the “Big Day” with all it’s preparations.

So Padme Amadala, my guppies name of course, is showing all the signs so I get her into her little breeder box. If you don’t know what that is it’s a plastic floating tank within the tank that let’s her have her own little place to do her thing, with a slotted middle divider so the kids can fall through after being born and go to their “nursery”. I get her in there, float her away into the tank and start the stare down. I am also really experienced at this part.

Ya, know, I’ve given birth. It’s no walk in the park. So I am seeing this girl spaz out all crazy and stuff, flashing her tail back and forth and I feel for her. I do. I am feeling a connection to this fish through our shared, magical experiences of bringing life into this world. I am routing her on, keeping a positive attitude and wishing I had a big glass of Veuve Cliquot to celebrate this great event, Things were in motion, the first one was coming out, It was so cool….and then it just wasn’t.

Padme’s birth routine is a little different than ours. Over the course of 4 hours I watched her systematically give birth to 17 fry. Each birth was the same. She’s squeeze that pup out, not even 5 seconds later she has turned around and popped the little guy back into her mouth for a little nosh. I mean, she’s been through a lot, she’s got to be famished. She than proceeds to take the longest poop I have ever witnessed a fish poop. This goes on forever. Than about 15 min later, another pup comes out and the entire macabre scene repeats itself. This happens 17 times over the course of the night and it’s exhausting, I’m sure she’s tired too but at least she’s getting some protein. At the end, she slowly starts to float tail-up towards the surface of the water, gulps a few times and dies.

Motherhood. Pregnancy is the easy part. This fish didn’t stick around for the wonder years but I got the feeling by her actions tonight that she might not have been Mother Of The Year. But, she was being true to herself and sometimes busy Mom’s find that really hard to do. She knew what she wanted. This was her last supper, her big farewell tour here on earth and she just wanted a party. A couple drinks, some great food, relax on the can for God knows how long, then float up to space like David Bowie and dream the big sleep. I am sure she died a happy fish. Well, at least she had eaten a little something.

I liked my way better. With tears, and laughter and family and friends surrounding my beautiful new boy who I had no intention of eating. I could never be a fish and do what she did. I mean it. I am telling you, that poop lasted FOREVER.

Eat your fiber,
Mindy

 

 
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