johnny appleseed? ha.

A couple of weeks ago at work, a fellow co-worker went around and gave everyone a little plastic cup of dirt with a seed planted inside. It's supposed to be some sort of inspirational/metaphorical thingy -- cultivating relationships with our students is similar to growing and caring for a plant.

Yeah, that's nice. I, however, took the cup and just sighed. You see, this is something I have never been able to do. Never, ever, ever have I been able to grow something from a seed. Considering my mom can make a dead stick come to life, you would think I would have a bit of green thumb DNA in me. Nope.

Oh, and I'm serious about the dead stick. She took a stick from a former plant at a former residence and stuck it in the ground at her new house. It came back to life. This is the same woman who can cut a leaf off of a plant, stick it in a cup of water, and eventually turn it into small rain forest.

But not me. You know all those time in elementary school when they have you grow a bean? Never did it. Now, as a parent, all the times my kids come home and hand me their seed cup, it still doesn't happen. Once, Sofia had decorated a beautiful pot at preschool and brought it home filled with dirt and gave it to me. Sorry, kiddo, nothing will be sproutin' from there.

Now, I should say that I am perfectly capable of keeping plants alive and growing. I just can't make one burst out of a seed.

So, I sit at work with my cup full of dirt, while everyone around me oohs and aahhs at the green popping out of the soil in their cups. Some have even named the little sprigs. I'm thinking of taking in a fake flower and sticking it in my cup. I'll even water it and stick it in my sunny window.

Nothing like having your inabilities on display for everyone to see...

Isn't it ironic? Don't cha think?

So, there I am at the Y this morning kicking some elliptical ass when CNN starts showing coverage of the 8.8 earthquake in Chile. Crap. Not another one. Yes, another one.

As I watch the scenes from the rubble, I think of Haiti, and I think of the places in this world where it seems like poverty and devastation are the norm rather than the exception. Feelings of guilt begin to well up inside me. Why am I here in snowy central Ohio sweating with my ipod while there is work to be done out there? Shouldn't I be putting my hands and feet to use for those who could use them? How did I get so lucky to be here and not there?

Then CNN cuts to a commercial break. For Sandals. Yeah, you know the one -- the one with beautiful sandy beaches and clear blue water. The one with the tag line that says something about luxury being included. The one with rich pretty people playing and lazing around drinking froo-froo drinks with little paper umbrellas. Yeah. Nice juxtaposition.

That's our world, boys and girls.

How can one kid talk so much??

Elijah is 3 1/2 and he can't stop talking.

From the moment he opens his eyes until he closes them again, the child has something to say. It is amazing how much one little human person can talk so much about so little. A typical conversation goes something like this:

Eli: Mommy...?

Me: What?

(pause)

Eli: Mommy...?

Me: What????

Eli: I want...uh...I want...Can I watch a movie?

Me: Not right now. Maybe later.

Eli: Um...Um...Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's dad.

Me: Uh huh.

Eli: Can I watch a movie?

Me: Not right now.

Eli: Can I have a snack?

Me: You just finished second breakfast.

Eli: So, can I have a snack?

Me: No.

Eli: You said I'm mean!

And it goes on and on and on from there. I have had to tell him to simply stop talking and have quiet time. I try to remember that Sofia went through the exact same phase at this age and that it will pass. But right now, I think I am going insane.

cosmopolicrap

Do NOT read women's magazines. I don't care what it is -- Cosmo, Redbook, Glamour, Self. Do not read them. If there is one thing in our society (and there isn't just one thing; there are many things) that make women feel less than, it would be these poor excuses for informational resources. They do not truly exist to make you a better you. They exist to make money.

And how do you think they make their money? By capitalizing on our insecurities. How do they do that? Their advertisers. Who are their advertisers? All those companies who need to tell you that you are not pretty enough, thin enough, healthy enough, whatever enough so that you will buy their crap. To emphasize all of this, they use impossible to copy supermodels and actresses to schlep their brands. Photoshopped supermodels and actresses. I mean, c'mon! Why do we look at those pics and really believe that she is perfectly proportioned, with perfect hair and skin, and big boobs that don't droop? Sorry fellas, real boobs don't stand at attention without some help.

And have you every noticed that these magazines just recycle the same old shitty info month after month? Seriously, when does the core information they are spewing ever change? They are very good at connecting to the basic concerns of almost every woman and making us feel like they understand and care. They give us stories of women just like us, going through exactly what we are, and making us feel not so alone with our deficiencies. They give beauty advice so that we can fix all of our flaws. They tell us how to eat and exercise because we just aren't thin enough. Oh, and don't forget that we need to know how to dress from season to season because we just aren't smart enough to figure that out. And men? Are they really that complicated? And how much new sex advice can they possible come up with that's truly new and different?

And what if we did follow all of their advice? Would we be better? Perfect? Doubt it.

So, if you would like to improve your self-esteem a hundred-fold, don't buy them, read them, or even flip through them. That's my advice. And I didn't even need to use a supermodel to give it.