Too many Stags

I sometimes forget how outnumbered I am by the stags here at home. If you look around my home you will find Lego pieces, computers, plastic guns and bows and arrows, a dart board, science fiction paperbacks, the Total Gym, paper airplanes, and such. I don't get bothered by this "boy stuff" too much. It's just a matter of finding storage for the stuff. But sometimes I will be putting shoes away and I feel outnumbered:
No wonder I crave "girls day out" sometimes. Even shopping with my stags ends up being about boys ski jackets, lug boots, and Hanes briefs. When it's my turn to get something for myself, I usually wait until I can go out alone because the stags get impatient while I browse through the aisles.

The number of Stags in my life : My brother Leif has a son. I have two sons. My step-sister Ro has 3 sons. John's brother Andre has a son... see what I mean?

The energy in this home changes a little bit when a female comes over. My mom's visits are always nice because just the sound of her voice adds a girly-ness to the background noise of this man cave. My sister-in-law Tina adds her own feminine energy to this space with her delicious home made desserts and her sweet laughter.

The latest estrogen boost was from our son's friend. Her sweetness and style was refreshing and reminded me that there should be more of a balance between the Yin and the Yang in our household. It's easy to just let things keep going in the Stag direction... mud-colored couch, beige carpet, brown wood furniture, grey-toned electronic gadgets. Once in a while I will have to inject our household with some feminine details.

But I can tell this will not be easy. As I type this, Lucas and I are also making a "knight's castle" (his words not mine) out of a large cardboard box. The colors: red, grey, brown, black, green. I asked Lucas, "If you are a knight, then what am I?"

"You're the King," he said without hesitation. Great.

Grateful

John and I were discussing upcoming expenses he will have to take care of as the executor of his father's will and estate in Washington, DC. This topic always gets us both agitated. I think it's because our family is here in the West Coast and he has some very important and very costly business to settle in the East Coast. He cannot personally oversee the work being done by repairmen. He has a stack of papers that need his signature being faxed back and forth to the realtor. He cannot supervise the clean up and removal of items in the property. In the last year and three months, John has devoted so much time, effort, and most importantly, LOTS of money to this endeavor, and he is shouldering the burden alone. In addition, the drain on our finances will not end anytime soon. So I think discussing the matter, even casually, brings up a lot of stress for both of us.

All this is piled on top of the daily responsibilities of parenting, working, housework, etc. It has been a great weight on both of our shoulders. It is easy to look around and wish things could be better, wish we could share this load with someone, wish we were repairing a home of our OWN instead of living in an apartment, wishing this problem would just go away...

Then disaster strikes and puts everything back in perspective. A 9.0 magnitude earthquake strikes the eastern coast of Japan. Then a tsunami created by the quake washes away entire roadways, farms, and towns taking possibly 10,000 lives with it. Factories shut down. Food is scarse. And now the threat of radiation is hanging over Japan and neighboring countries as well. The news shows Japanese citizens, politicians, and even search and rescue workers in tears... almost in disbelief at what has happened to their country.

Just imagining a 20 foot wall of water coming through my home and carrying away everything with it makes all my problems seem small. This disaster was no one's fault. It just happened. Sometimes sh** just happens. I'm going to try focusing on the good and be grateful for all I have (problems too!). I am grateful that everything I hold dear is still here.

Silver for the Stags...

My mother recently gave me her set of silver plated cutlery. She has had this set since she was in the Philippines ??? Instead of waiting to bequeath it to me in her will, she gave it to me early partly to make sure it doesn't get lost in her move from one house to another, and partly (I believe) to see me and my family incorporate the pieces in my home. It was an important moment in my life to open the wooden chest and discover all the pieces that she has held on to all these years. The design on the handles is quite elaborate for my taste. I prefer simple clean lines on my eating utensils, but I felt honored to be able to pull these same pieces out that my mother used every Christmas, Thanksgiving, or other gatherings at her home.

Now, fast-forward 30 years: I will be my mom's age (hopefully). Will my Stags appreciate or even use this same silverware from their grandmother passed down to their mother passed down to them? Silver serving/eating utensils are not the type of thing stags spend time thinking about. Will it end up in a yard sale or ebay auction?

This brings to mind the items people keep to remember/think of someone. I have an Our Lady of Guadalupe pendant from my Grandma Luz. I also still have my wedding gown she made. I will never wear it again, but I just can't seem to part with it. My friend Mary Anne gave me a gold Nefertiti pendant that reminds me of her each and every time I see it... because she IS such a goddess. My friend Carla gave me a journal that reflects so much of her playful personality, it's not possible to see it without thinking of her.

Who knows what my boys will keep for themselves to remember me after I'm gone. Will it be my artwork? My jewelry? Or will they be non-material items? I hope their wives will keep and safeguard a few of my items for the next generation, for my grandchildren, as I tried to do for John's and my mother.

John did keep a few of his mother's things after she passed away. We have 2 framed silk screens from Thailand, a pearl brooch from India, a hand painted fan from Italy, and... of all things... a silver plated water pitcher. What do you know. Stags do appreciate silver ware.

Working at the Speed of Stag

I don't know if it's just the stags I live with, or if all stags work at a certain SLOW pace that make my blood pressure rise. As much as I love my stags, I cannot sit by and watch them take their time to do stuff. My husband now knows me so well. He knows that if I ask him to help me with a project or moving furniture or whatever, if he makes me wait too long, I will do it myself. I mean, really, why am I waiting so long? Is he operating on someone's heart? Is he solving Hilbert's Sixteenth Problem? No. He is killing monsters on his computer. He claims there is no pause button on these games... MmmHmmm.

Maybe the stag's tolerance for unfinished tasks is higher than a female. We females see underwear on the floor and pick it up. Stags lift their foot higher in order to walk over it. The stack of recycling that needs to be taken our becomes inversely proportional to my level of patience. There is hope, though. After 20 years, some stags show signs of progress and improvement. Maybe in another 20 years, I won't have to remind him anymore.