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.

Romantic Stags

Valentines Day is off to a good start. At 8:30 this morning, I drove by a local flower stand at the corner of 19th and Ortega here in SF and there was a line of stags picking out their Valentine's Day presents for their sweethearts. John and I share the opinion that Valentine's day is so commercialized. "The perfect card, the perfect gift, the perfect date . . . Isn't there enough pressure in relationships without having to live up to some romantic ideal on Valentine's Day?" (http://mentalhealth.about.com/library/weekly/aa013100a.htm)

Yet, John's inner romantic still wins and he usually gets me something almost every year. John's gift to me, a bouquet of multi-colored roses arrived this morning with a sweet card. Commercialized or not, I love, love, love the presents from him...*sigh! It turns out that the romantic gene has been passed down to the first-born stag. Last night, Ian got all dressed up and smelling nice for his date with his girl. He asked his foodie friends for a good recommendation and made dinner reservations for a restaurant, Pisces. Armed with a present (a delicate pearl and Swarovski crystal necklace and earring set), he borrowed my car and picked her up all the way from Berkeley... well done, Son! He is off to a good start. Yes, the romantic gene strong in that one!

The little stag is at school right now cutting red construction paper into hearts. He will probably make a card for each of us here at home. Those cards are the best!

Signs of the Stags....

Welcome Year of the Rabbit, the fourth animal in the 12-year cycle of the Chinese Zodiac. Rabbit people (born in 1915, 1927, 1939, 1951, 1963, 1975, 1987, 1999, and 2011) are admired, trusted, and are often financially lucky. To celebrate the year of the Rabbit, I brought home two "money trees", also known as Pachira aquatica. It is commonly given during Chinese New Year and enhances good Feng Shui energy in the home. I don't practice Feng Shui, but I thought that the chances of me killing a low-maintenance, low-light plant are slim. I have a brown thumb, you see.

It turns out that some Chinese Zodiac signs get along better together than others. For example, the Dog (me) is most compatible with the Horse or Tiger and incompatible with the Rooster and Dragon. The Boar or Pig (John) is more compatible with a Rabbit or Goat. The Snake (Ian) gets along well with Rooster and Ox. And finally Monkey (such an appropriate sign for Lucas!) is most compatible with Rat or Dragon.... hmmmm. According to these Zodiac compatibility rules, our little household of wild animals is not very compatible. This might explain the chaos one can hear in the background when we are conversing on the phone.

On the other hand, Zodiac-Shmodiac, I think we get along just fine (most days).

The hyper-focused Stag

Our living room is small. Actually our entire downstairs is small. I can sit with my laptop in the dining room and still sort of be able to read John's computer monitor across the room while he's in the living room. If you've ever been to our place, you know! Today, I have been having trouble getting John's attention. I don't mean in a naughty way or anything. More like when I ask him a question from across the room, he doesn't move, doesn't flinch, and DOES NOT ANSWER for like 5 minutes. By the time he utters an answer, I am left wondering what he is talking about because I already forgot my question. When John is killing monsters, the eyes are continuously glued to the monitor. The ears don't work so well.

So, out of irritation, I pulled up my Yahoo messenger tab on my laptop and typed out a message to John. "This is your wife speaking," and then I pressed "send". I looked across the room to see if he notices the message blinking on the corner of his monitor. His head turned slightly toward the blinking, and I heard the keyboard clicking away.... "I am all ears," he responds.