But I suspect you don’t you come here expecting hard news and careful introspection, so here’s a round-up of my last two weeks:

Garage sale madness continued, then not.

Remember the mega sale in April? No? Well, I do and not just because I’m scarred for life from the experience of hauling in and hauling out, storing and sorting family wares for 2 years. They talk about house remodeling sending people to the brink of divorce? Prepping for a garage sale comes close to that. Anyway, I’ll always remember the sale because we made $500 for us and another $100 that went back to family members. Woohoo! Last weekend we decided to try and unload even more at a local “Junk in Your Trunk” sale. These are like flea markets and popular in the UK (called “car boot sales”). We made another $75 and then donated the remaining items to Goodwill. I don’t have the stomach to do this each year — and I hope we never have that much stuff again — but it boosted our vacation fund AND helped to clean out my mother-in-law’s and our house. Bonus: Our neighbors can stop thinking we’re the Clampets moving stuff in and out of our house all the time.

Oh, mother.

Oh, brother. I’ve wanted to write about recent experiences with my mother and mother-in-law – after all, part of my return to blogging was to connect with other members of the “sandwich generation” – but it’s just not my place to write about it in detail. Suffice it to say, I’m worried about each of them and, if I’m being honest with myself, about how their decisions are impacting or will impact my life. Welcome, guilt-ridden Sandwich Member! I’ll leave this topic for now, but will share more later. This weighs on my mind.

I am writing, then not, then I am, then not, then…

Decided I need to buckle down on this. (Again. And again.) After all, now that I’m focusing back on what’s in front of me and no longer busting my ass looking for “other opportunities” I can devote energy to what I enjoy, including writing. I spent time last week writing a query/pitch to collaborate on a book with an independent publisher. I’ve also drafted an essay to submit for an anthology. I, of course, think I’m wonderfully qualified for both of these opportunities. Others may not, but you have to be in it to win it. P.S. Notes, ideas, images for my novel continue to bounce around in my head. I’m hoping they’ll make it to paper this summer. Which brings me to…

Ready for summer “vacation” more than the kids.

Like T-Rex, I’m burned out from the school year and have been suffering from spring fever. This week we spent three long nights at wonderful-but-long school concerts and events – did I mention they were long? We’re finishing up taekwondo lessons next week before taking a break for the summer. (The kids protested at first, but I think they’re so pooped out now they don’t mind.) I’m so ready for summer: we’ll go biking, swim, relax, run around camp…

Oh, wait, I still have to go to work every day! Well, I’m still looking forward to the all that fun crammed into evening hours before 9 p.m. and weekends. Yep, can’t wait for that relaxing, “unscheduled” time.

How about you?

People say motherhood is like riding a roller coaster, but I  think of it as visiting the whole amusement park.

It’s true that we moms experience our share of heart-pounding thrills, those  moments when exhilaration and panic meet. They include a child’s many “firsts”:  His first steps. The first time she performs a solo onstage. The day you know they will leave you to go off to college or to live their own lives.

Raising kids makes us moms want to scream, too – but not in the hands-waving,  “I’m having fun” way! (More like the Edvard Munch way!) From the time my kids  were infants I’ve grit my teeth through stages I thought would never end, only  to be surprised when a “good” stage of childhood ended far too soon…usually  just as I had it figured out. I’m lucky, though. My frustrations have been over  things like tantrums and missed homework assignments; maybe a few outbursts over  my lack of time and sleep. Many moms deal with far worse.

People like to compare motherhood to riding a roller coaster, but a roller  coaster can’t convey the bumper-car silliness of watching your son goof around  in the backyard with his buddies. Or the lazy-river-calm of rocking your baby in  the middle of night. Or feeling like you’ve won the biggest prize in the world  when you see your teenager show extra kindness toward a classmate who’s a little  different or, unexpectedly, toward you.

I’m amazed at how much I’ve learned as a mom and yet how little I know  sometimes. Motherhood has its highs and lows, but it isn’t a closed, predictable  loop. With every sight, every sound, every ride, every day, I discover something  new about my children and myself.

[Now, doesn't that make you want to visit Kennywood or your favorite park?!]

However.

NOW our nights are peppered with reality shows that involve two tracks: 1) Junk (picking through junk; making something out of junk; selling junk) and 2) Killing Things. Oh, I can’t wait for the spam that’s going to come out of this.

We watch Pawn Stars, Hardcore Pawn, Storage Wars (but only the original, like CSI), American Pickers (a family fan favorite!), Auction Kings, The Show About Buying Foreclosures at Auction in Arizona, etc. etc. Where or where are the days of a simple Antiques Roadshow and a few House Hunters?!

We watch shows that involve Swamp People, River Monsters (and, as T-Rex informed me this morning, the behind-the-scenes spinoff, River Monsters: Unhooked!), American Hoggers, Billy Badass Beating Bees (and smokin’ dope). You get the idea.

To make matters worse, the boys in my life — T-Rex and the husband — are fascinated with both tracks. In fact, my better half seems especially taken with the hoggers. I believe he was only half-joking last night when he said he might like to apprentice with Jerry (as long as the gig comes with subtitles). I might have believed him if he had told me he wanted to apprentice with the cute chicks, but no. No, he wants to apprentice with the big guy.

Which is funny because he wouldn’t want to get anywhere near a freakin’ hog, let alone wrestle one to the ground. He just likes that the dogs ride around on top of the Jeep.

If you don’t know what the heck I’m talking about, I’ll sum up the majority of these shows for you:  take what was once a unique profession that now everyone thinks they can and want to do, throw in a bickering brother and sister vying for their dad’s attention (or bickering competitors), add some cool theme music and graphics, and voila! The new reality TV show.

I’m not sure which would be more dangerous:  hoggin’ or “pickin’” with Frank (Frankie) and Mike of American Pickers. Every week they’re one step away from having a barn fall in on them or contracting tetanus and they have to deal with rather interesting “antique” hoarders collectors, many sporting ZZ Top-style beards.

Come to think of it, the two tracks may not be all that different.

I’m starting to think the most dangerous show would be the one where the wife/mom finds unusual and interesting ways to disconnect the TV.

Getting picked (need to versus want to) and its follow-up, But I don’t want to do that, I want to do this.

Why?

I’ve finally accepted after 18 months of “exploring opportunities” outside of my industry that it’s time to stop. I’ve spent a lot-lot-lot of time and effort in my search and find myself in almost the same place as when I started:  working at the same place, in the same industry, as I have for a long-long-long time. However, I say “almost the same” for a few reasons.

I proved to myself I still have marketable skills. (Of course, I wanted to believe this, but after being somewhere so long it’s hard to know for sure.) I also nearly perfected my resume (when is anything ever “perfect”?) and, more importantly, my story, my pitch — what I bring to the table, what I want and what I need at this stage of my career and life, what motivates me, who I am. This is a great exercise for anyone to do, by the way. My story generated enough interest to get interviews and even to be chosen for the final group of candidates in a couple of cases. Maybe in a different job market it would have made the sale. This time, it didn’t.

I am in no way comparing my experience to anyone who is unemployed; there’s a big difference, as Seth would point out, in needing to, not just wanting to, find a new job. (I also don’t write this all boo-hoo because, all things considered, mine is a rather bourgeois problem to have.) So why am I writing this and how does it relate to Seth Godin?

If you need to give yourself a pep talk about changing the course of your career, like I did, or being recognized for your artistic talents, or turning your hobby into a business, or wanting to find a new relationship, or understanding your place in this world, consider…

“…If you’re frustrated that you’re not getting picked, one plan is to up your game, to hustle harder, to figure out how to hone a pitch and push, push, push. But in the era of picking yourself, it seems to me that you’re better off finding a path that doesn’t require you get picked in order to succeed.”

“I know you worked hard on paying your dues, on building your skills and in being next. We all know that. But that doesn’t mean that the picking system is going to work when you need it to.”

“…If you want to devote your work and your efforts to getting picked, that’s your choice, and more power to you. But I think it’s dangerous to start with the assumption that you have no choice.”

Anyone who knows me knows I’m persistent and believe in making choices and putting yourself out there – just read my dating tales in One-Woman Show !! I also believe that God/the universe/lady luck/whoever-and-whatever-you-believe-in and timing play a key role in the outcome and might be trying to tell you something.

It’s time to explore different kinds of opportunities — where I am currently and how I can design the next stage of my career there, in outside creative pursuits, and who knows what else. It’s kind of a relief, really. It’s kind of nice to get back to picking me.

Read Seth’s blog!!

1. Learning martial arts is both empowering and highly entertaining. One second, I’m focused and balancing all Zen-like on one foot before completing a controlled, snappy side kick in perfect form. The next, I’m kicking and throwing my arms around in such a spastastically wild manner Elaine Benes would be in awe. To sum it up: keep at it and keep your sense of humor.

2.  Testing and practice are two different things. I was confident going into my test last night. I had my forms down and felt that the support of my instructors and classmates would carry me through. Besides, I wasn’t saving lives, so, really, how hard could it be?

Like many of my classmates, I experienced the one thing you don’t get in practice:  the pressure of performing in front of 30+ people who have nothing better to do at that moment than to watch you. I ended up rushing through my form, focusing on things I usually don’t consider (“Hey, let me impress that five-year-old in the front row with an amazing jump front kick! See, kid, I’m awesome!”), and then came out of said kick only to realize I had no idea where I was in the routine. I’m sure my pause lasted for only a second or two, but it was disorienting. Then there were the issues of bonking myself in the head during the weapons test and flubbing my way through line sparring.

All of that aside, if there’s a positive about being in your 40′s you know ”the show must go on”. (And empty your bladder before jumping, kicking or, generally, anything.) In other words: It may not be your best ever, but it’s your best at that moment.

3. Everyone is your teacher. My testing partner is a 62-year old woman who started taekwondo because her granddaughters take classes. To look at her, you think “sweet and petite”, but this former Navy engineer is tough as nails and throws a mean punch (thankfully, the no contact kind). My other classmates include two 13-year old boys who are your typical self-conscious, goofy, mostly uncoordinated teens. But, god love ‘em, they accepted practicing with someone their mom’s age without a word, right from the start. My buddy, Jesse, even gave me a big smile and high five after we earned our new belts. Consider this: You can learn something from everyone you meet…regardless of how old — or young — they are.

Bonus Lessons:

Yes, your supporters will help carry you through.

It’s ok. You’re not saving lives.

You’re not Elaine Benes.