Change.

Can't turn on the radio, watch television or surf the Net without that word buzzing like an annoying horsefly at a picnic. Agent for change. Real change. Calling for change. Change is coming. Somebody toss the current political operatives a thesaurus -- or at the very least a dash of imagination.

That said, I won't let personal beliefs get in the way of pragmatism. I know a hot idea when I see one. As one of those sought-after swing voters, a registered Independent who has voted on both sides of the aisle during her own private political career, I have decided to swipe the concept of C-H-A-N-G-E for use in my own life. (Heck, if John McCain has, so can I.)

No longer will experience be the reasoning behind my parental edicts. Now I wear the mantle of revolution. Of transformation.

From my own battleground state, otherwise known as the kitchen, I am ready to shake up the establishment. I am not afraid to buck the status quo. Heretofore I want be known, particularly among the three residential teenagers and their pantry-emptying, video-playing, want-to-sleep-until-noon cohorts, as Mama Maverick. Maverick Mama will be fine, too. Or Mav Mom. Or M-squared. Or the divine double M. (If anything, I'm flexible.)

I suspect I will be accused of flip-flopping. Charges of too liberal or too conservative will fly. My walk-in closet will be examined for skeletons. (Which is quite fine by me since I've been meaning to organize it for months anyway.) And the electorate of my domain will demand that I produce proof of my executive decision-making.

No matter. I'm not afraid. Nor do I fear the very real possibility that the above-mentioned populace will not care for me in my feeble old age. God is with me. As is my ever-dwindling 401(k). I will stick to the issues regardless of how shrill and ridiculous the debate swirls. Here's the platform:

Let's start with the economy. It seems to me that fiscal responsibility has been sorely lacking under my governance. Allowances have been misspent. Handouts have been demanded after intense lobbying by special interests. Misrepresentations about the state of summer jobs surfaced several times a few months back. No more. From now on, kiddies, if you want to spiral your personal deficit ever upwards, my wallet won't come to the rescue. I'm not printing any more money. Consider this my tax rebate.

On to my next favorite subject, education. (Second only to Why is everybody so pinched?) Weekend homework will be done Friday -- not Sunday night in a rush, when everybody's angling for the shared family computer. Projects, be they weekly or quarterly, will have a timeline for surges and draw-downs. Procrastination is out, planning and foresight are in. All intelligence -- school website announcements, online grade reports, handwritten notes in personal agenda -- will be closely scrutinized for distortions and falsifications.

Finally, I want to address the issue of sibling rivalry. This nasty partisanship serves no purpose. I'm tired of the finger-pointing and the blame-gaming. If I hear one more, He used my towel or It wasn't me who left the oven running all night, I will call out the National Guard. The name calling will stop now. Under my new leadership, there will be opportunities to build bridges. Not to nowhere, mind you, but to each other. Working side by side we can build a safer, more prosperous household.

Remember, change, by its very nature, implies one sure thing: We're all in this together.

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