Michele Minehart

words & yoga

Month: May 2011 (page 1 of 4)

my husband makes me listen to AM radio

Thus, we’ve heard a lot today about the grief of the Buckeye Nation while we were travelling across a few counties. Now, granted, my sources are limited (610 WTVN and its viewers, then a brief moment with ESPN this evening), but I’ve been able to loosely gather my own opinion on the situation. 

I know, no one asked my opinion. But this is a blog. It’s what I do. I opine. 
I think it’s best for everyone that Jimmy T takes an exit. Here’s my reasoning:
1. First and foremost, Ohio State University is an organization of higher education. It’s a body of people who are dedicated to shaping and developing the lives students. I think the university should choose very carefully, then, what leaders influence these young people and the message they bring. (I could go off on a tangent about what it means that our society associates sporting events so highly with an entity that supposed to be about the chemistry and literature, but I’ll save that for another day). 
1a. This means teaching young people that your actions do matter, that you can’t just sweep your mistakes under a rug and hope SI doesn’t uncover it. Fess up, own up, pay up – learn your lesson and move on. A commentator made a comparison to “it’s what any of us would do for our kids…” and I question the logic behind parents doing just that (though, I do think this might be some sort of greater micro- or macro-cosm of what we’re teaching young people nowadays because I think this is a more comment experience that what we might realize). By aiding and abetting, we aren’t offering our young people the opportunity to learn the valuable lesson of responsibility and accountability. I’ve spoken to a gaggle of teachers and those who work with a younger generation who would agree: we’re not doing anyone favors by dealing with it for them. We can be supportive, loving, forgiving and help ease the burn, but we shouldn’t habitually be teaching young people that you can avoid the heat. Parents – and I do think Tressel is a father figure to many of his boys – should carefully weigh the long-term effects of an attitude of Daddy Fix It. 
2. I read on FB today that “Tressel just cared for his players too much.” Boo. Hickey. Sticks. He cared about the surface area on his body most commonly used to sit upon. If he truly cared about the long-term development of his students, see 1a. I’m not saying he doesn’t care about his kids – I’m positive he does – I’m just saying that they weren’t his primary reasoning. 
2b. Then he lied. Not an action typically associated with caring about others. 
I think Tressel’s a good coach and probably a good person. I’m enough of a cynic to say he’s probably not doing anything that 92% of those in similar situations aren’t already doing. But I’m not sure it matters. Rules – even stupid rules, if that’s what you want to argue – are rules, and all parties involved knew them. And the NCAA, if it wants to be taken seriously on these stances, must enforce to the full extent if it wants players and coaches to know that it is serious. Like the first day of class, the first one to test the lines and boundaries will probably endure a stricter punishment and be made an example of. But that’s classroom management.  It’s sending a message to gain respect. It’s saying, “If you want to play in my club, here are my rules. Or take your ball and go home.” 
So despite the fact that Jim’s a good guy and a great coach, I think OSU made some wise decisions. Sure, there are lots of variables and he’s not the only one who knew and took these actions. But that’s the essence of leadership; taking the fall, and [even if eventually] owning the mistakes comes with the job description. 
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I know I’m not a fashion designer or anything…

I’ve made mention of my lack of fashionability. I’m okay with the fact that when my friends want to go glam, they don’t typically call me for advice. They’d be more likely to call for advice on, say… how to roast a chicken. Or the current developments and trends surrounding food scarcity and waste. Or breastfeeding. I tend to do a lot of breastfeeding. 

But looking good? One might be impressed by my latest bag I picked up at… Target. That is, when I get flashy enough to leave the county to make such a purchase. 
And now that the bar is set low in terms of expectations, let me just express my sheer hatred of maternity clothes. We’ve had a lot of developments in the past decade, many significant contributions to society. I now think it’s time that someone that knows how to wield a pin and needle spend some time on the wears of women in my frequent condition.  
I’ve found a few categories of maternity clothes:
1. Jeans and hoodie. This method of dressing is limited to, oh, not 90-degree weather, but it’s my preferred choice.
2. Ugly. Seriously, who decided that maternity clothes needed to look so… maternal? I’ve never owned so many pastels. I’m surprised that more of the stuff doesn’t feature applicque (um, sorry Google Chrome, but that IS a word) or cartoon characters. If not donning an ugly print, my shirt just hangs wanefully from my enormous belly. At least half of the tops aren’t “maternity” but an XXL that has an “M” on the tag instead. I have a tent in the garage that fits better than the dress I wore to Easter sunrise service. 
3. They just don’t fit. Most of the shorts I own make my buns look like “two pigs fightin’ under a blanket” (2 points if you can name that movie!). My pants from yesterday nearly turned off the circulation to my legs if I sat upright. 
OK, that’s enough whinyness for now. I’ll go dry my hair and go to work where people can look at me with pity over the clothing selection I must clearly be up against.  I consider this a public service announcement, a little bit of Calamine lotion for my sister and whoever else might be trying not to scratch an itch. 
Tune in next time when I let the opinion fly on children’s clothing. Really, who thought a collar on a baby’s pajamas would be an improvement? 
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8am this morning was a long, long time ago.

Everyone needs a bit of randomness in their life:

1. When it comes to pricing, Meijer wins the battle on chicken, Kroger wins on steak. Meijer also won rounds 2, 3 and 4 – veggies, fruit and spaghetti sauce. I didn’t check milk. But the discount on gas for buying groceries at Kroger… this is going to require a bigger spreadsheet. 
2. Never forget that the power to create life is greater than the power to destroy it. Straight from the newest read: Radical Homemakers
3. Just the intro to that book is stirring an itch for more school. I’m currently standing with my back against a wall, swaying side to side, pretending it’s not there. 
4. 2 2-year-old boys that don’t get to see each other very often but love each other very much: buckets of fun. 
5. Baby no. 3 is twice the mover and shaker that the other 2 were. Combined. There’s been so much activity that last night I had a dream that his/her hand was starting to protrude through my stomach and was able to amply grasp items. Freaky. 
6. Tomorrow I have an ultrasound to tell me just how big I really am (apparently we need more accuracy?). Not the way I really want to kick off a weekend, but I suppose it’s better than other medical procedures.
7. I still love my iphone. 
8. The kids were introduced to the idea that the van has a DVD player. They were impressed. Well, Miss M wasn’t… she was facing the back window. She only heard about it. 
9. We broke out the baby doll (with stroller and carrier) that Miss M received when she was born. Watching her carry it around has to be one of the cutest things. Ever. 
10. My lettuce is looking great. Tomatoes not too shabby. The broccoli stands strong. But the weeds are outnumbering productive veggies at a rate of 300 to 1. 
11. Today we bought a singular piece of chicken for $5. The 7 piece meal was $14.79. However, it was only dark meat. Husband and I prefer the breast. So we upgraded to the 8 piece meal for $19.99. There was one breast (we thought that by definition they come in pairs?), the rest was dark meat. KFC might receive a phone call. 
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