How done is done

When you get married you both bring different customs and practices to the marriage and sometimes they clash. This became blatantly clear when I watched my MIL clean the kitchen floor with the dish rag and put it back in the sink. My Mother would skin my hide if I did that. Most of those things are resolved in the first couple years of marriage but there are always a few differences that linger. If they linger long enough they become issues.



We have an issue with cooking meat in our house which was clearly illustrated a couple of Christmas' ago. Both my parents and my husbands Mom were here to celebrate. My Mom and I had spent the day carefully preparing the turkey. Everything was taken into consideration; how long to thaw it out, how heavy was it, how long would it need to cook and when did we want to eat etc. The potatoes are finished. The gravy made. The vegetables are done and the salad is on the table. The turkey is checked... by my MIL and husband. They took the turkey out earlier then my Mom and I had planned. The meat thermometer had not reached the poultry finished line; it was close but not there. My Mom did not believe the turkey was done and the cooking time and meat thermometer supported her position. She left the room visible upset. However, that turkey came out and was eaten. We survived but it shows the different backgrounds we come from. My family... wait until the thermometer gets there... don't take any chances... it's better dry than under cooked. His family... you don't want to over cook... it will keep cooking even after you take it off the heat... close it good enough... if the rest of the meal is ready the meat is done.

Another thanksgiving we are at my husbands Aunts. The whole family is there and they ask my husband to carve the Turkey. As he cuts into it he realizes the turkey isn't done. Like really isn't done. It's bright pink on the inside. Still slimy. Most people would have put it back in the oven. Not his family. They (my husband) cut off the parts that look done and served it up. Even if I hadn't been pregnant and experiencing some morning sickness I wouldn't have eaten that turkey. Hello- its still raw! I made darn sure Grandma didn't put any of it on my daughter's plate too. She looked at me strange but that's pretty usual.

This particular difference has become an issue. I don't know how many times I have cut into a piece of BBQ to see... not cooked enough... pink chicken or especially pork... still fleshy and put it into the microwave. He even likes his french fries a little on the undercooked side and he gets so offended when I say anything or microwave things. He once told me that he wouldn't cook anymore, after I suggested he ask for a second opinion before he declares something done. That's great! So my options are eat raw meat or do all the cooking.

If I had only known I needed to get food poisoning once to stop the arguments. Things have been a little different since early this summer. We were camping with his mom (who always takes his side on this. "I like mine a little on the rare side" and always seems to be around when it happens. ) and my husband starts cooking up the bacon. Within hours we are all pooping. Thank goodness the girls never ate any. They also didn't eat any potato chips the night before but food poisoning from potato chips sounds a little weak when there is bacon involved. We come home and poop. Three days of pooping with a combined weight loss of 15ish pounds and we know it's food poisoning. The chills and stomach craps. No more said. The doctor confirms it and gives us meds.

A couple days later we are good until... the BBQ starts again at you guessed it... at the MIL's. He hands me a piece of pork saying "This one is cooked the most."

I cut in and there it is... undercooked pork chops... still fleshy... still bleeding... alot. I say "This isn't done."

MIL says "I'll trade maybe there is another one that is done more. I like mine on the rare side."

Husband "I'll put it back on the BBQ"

What? Trade? Back on the BBQ? Never in all my years of marriage has either of these options been available. Gone is the defensiveness in it's place I have accommodation. Finally!
When I go to a restaurant I am asked "How would you like it done?" Somehow my preferences at home were never really acknowledged; until food poisoning. My answer has never changed and never will change. "I would like it cooked, please... No not kicking... Cooked." and I may just start getting it that way.

RUDE

A few months ago my daughter and I were leaving the public library and she noticed a teenager with a very large affro sitting by the door.

"Mommy, he has big hair!!!"

A couple of months ago we were in Ikea and she noticed a wheelchair and asked what it was. The elderly couple stopped shopping to show her how it worked and explain what it was for. They were very gracious with their time and explanation.

My oldest daughter is old enough to notice differences and sometimes comments. These comments are innocent observations that sometimes carry some awkwardness.

Recently I made a comment that was tackless and she repeated it. I was told that I was teaching my daughter to be rude. I took great offense to the accusation so lets talk about rude.

Yes, I was rude in front of my daughter. I told a family member they needed a shower. I was tackless by saying it in front of other family members including my daughter. I regret saying it in front of everyone and I would hesitate to repeat the scenario. However, this person needed a shower and was getting on a plane shortly.

What is rude?

Is it more rude to tell someone they need a shower or knowing refuse to shower leaving the lingering BO smell behind you for everyone to enjoy?

Is it more rude to lay down in the guest room for a nap during the day or fail to stay awake in the living room and end up sleeping on the couch snoring all day?

Is it more rude to sleep in the living room snoring loudly for hours on end or watch TV beside someone who is trying to sleep?

I honestly don't know if this person planned to shower that morning or not. Eventually they did and I don't know if I influenced that choice or not. I do know I should have kept my mouth shut or at least exercised more tack.

I'm sure this individuals perception of the weekend is different that mine. From my point of view it was rude to consider flying on a plane with lingering BO. It was rude to sleep on the couch and chair for hours on end in a common room snoring so loudly that people could not hear the conversation or TV. It was rude to tell me how to parent my child. From their point of view, it was rude of me to comment on their hygiene, especially in front of others. It was rude of me to allow my children to listen to music while they were trying to sleep and it was rude of me to turn the TV up so I could hear it over the snoring.

So what is rude? Is there a degree of rudeness and who gets to decide?

7 degrees of seperation

There are events in our lives that make time stop; sometimes its just for a second. These events aren't always tragic but many of us can remember where we were when we heard about JFK's assassination, the Berlin Wall coming down, Columbine, 911. I don't remember JFK's assassination but I do remember watching the news about the wall and I remember coming home from work and being horrified as I watched live news coverage of kids fleeing from their school. I remember driving to school to coach volleyball and hearing about a plane flying into the north tower. I remember thinking that is must have been a little plane that lost control then hearing the rest of the story after volleyball practice in the staff room. I remember watching the replays on TV. I remember these events; I remember where I was, what I was doing and I remember the feelings I felt. These events were significant. I am saddened for the families even though I didn't know them.

Recently in Calgary there was a horrible murder-suicide. 5 people were killed; 2 of them were children. There was one survivor; a little girl who is the same age and shares the same name as my youngest daughter. When the investigation was done, it was concluded that the father was responsible. Why? Why would someone do that to their own family? I remember where I was when I heard. I remember what I felt and thought. I remember grieving for the grandparents and the little girl. I remember thinking about the last moments this family experienced.

I also remember calling my friend and learning that this family, the one in the paper, was closely associated with my friends. I didn't know the Lall family but I do know people that did. Suddenly the horrific events happened are only 2 degrees of seperation from me. They had friends and family who loved them. My friends have pictures of them in their childhood albums sitting around the table. They have pictures of their families together, 3 generations, sitting on the front lawn enjoying an evening together.

When you hear something like this on the news you are disturbed, shaken, saddened. You are also removed. When you know someone who knew the family, you are disturbed, shaken and saddened on a whole new level. But when you knew the Lalls you grieve. You remember a lifetime of who they were and how they were a part of your life.

My heart goes out to my friends... who have lost their friends.

Just where do we get off?

Just where do we get off? I've recently been reflecting that our generation treat our friends better than our parents. Maybe it's our society but call it what you want, we do treat our friends better than our parents. Think about it for a minute...

When your friends invite you over for dinner the first thing you ask is "What can I bring?" When your parent invite you over for dinner the only thing you ask is "What time should I come?"

I know someone who moved out of their parents house almost a year ago and still hasn't removed their stuff from their old bedroom. The stuff is still spread all over the room; the carpet still needs to be vacummed. The room is unusable. Our old room mates would never let us get away with this.

I know someone else who used to do their grocery shopping at their mom's house. What would your friends say if you came over and emptied out the cupboard? To make matters worse this same person took food from their parents freezer and left it as a thank you at someone else house.

Could you imagine what our friends would say if the next time we go out to a resturant we looked expectantly at them when the bill came... just like we do our parents...?

It makes me think how much we take our parents for granted.

It doesn't get any better when you have kids. It's generally assumed that the grandparents would love to babysit... and if your an hour late that's ok... it's good grandparent time... and it's free and the girl next door costs $6/hr.

I can't speak for the rest of society but I'm going to try better. My parents are important to me so maybe it's time to start treating them more like my friends.