Monthly Archives: September 2010

The important things in life

Work today was filled with, well, work.  I was up to my eye sockets in mounds of never ending stuff.  I was thankful for the cup of Java I had to get me through the day.  But I was so busy that I barely had time to savor the brew.  I fould myself gulping it quickly while trying to appreciate the flavor jolt as my intestines cramped in protest.  And then at times I took several quick gulps afaid to pry it off of my lips for fear of not having another opportunity to experience the devine liquid.  It was during one of these times (after I pried the beverage off of my face and placed it down) that I happened to glance up and realize….ahhhh, now these are the important things in my life!


The Considerate Male

I heard my older son open the fridge and rumble around for awhile. Then I heard the fridge close.  After some time passed,  I opened my fridge to find this…..  

Apparently we need more milk.  How considerate of him to alert us to this fact.  I have informed him that the next time he makes such a discovery he may also dump the “spoiled” milk.  Boys.

People bite

I began to think about this topic after a conversation I recently had with my brother.  We were laughing as we discussed our kids and the way they handle situations at school.  I howled as he told me of his son’s self-confidence when confronted with a remark from an unkind child.  Rather than accepting the remark his son will simply say “Wow, what’s wrong with him?  That was really mean” or “Why are they so mean?”  Never once does he think that he deserved the mean remark.  He is not wired to take it personally nor is he mean natured.  I ABSOLUTELY loved hearing this and wish we all could walk in my nephew’s emotional Teflon coating refusing to allow any junk to stick to us!

After this conversation I began to recall some not so pleasant memories from my childhood and realized that I painfully discovered the fact that people bite when I was fairly young.  I’ll never forget the confidence I walked in as I left the security of my home and entered the jungle called school.   My parents loved me unconditionally and I was sure of my excellence as most kids are at that age.  I knew I had deficiencies however, I was great in spite of them.   It was with this greatness that I confidently waved goodbye to my parents and entered the small brick building filled with kids from all walks of life.  It was in this small brick building that I got my first of many bites and ouch, did it hurt!  I can remember the realization that although I was unconditionally loved by my parents and wonderful in their eyes, I was suddenly vulnerable and somewhat of an easy target for my peers.   Unlike my nephew, I took everything personally.

As a parent I wish I could shield my kids from the unkind aspects of our world however, I realize that getting bit it is a part of life.  It is what we do with the bite and the aftermath that counts.  Do we focus on the bite and allow the bite to grow consuming us with its infectious potential?  Do we become angry and bitter?  Do we become filled with hate?  Do we believe that we deserved the bite?  Do we become paralyzed with fear…afraid of future bites?  Do we attempt to fly under the bite radar and become invisible?  Do we become aggressive?  Do we become passive?  Do we bite others before getting bit?  Oh man, there are so many reactions that one could have and I’ve probably tried them all!  However, as I age and continue to experience the nastiness humans are capable of, I have  found freedom in only one response to the ugliness.  As trivial as this may sound the response that brings true freedom is forgiveness.  We must give these individuals a gift that they do not deserve…the gift of forgiveness.  Freely we have received, freely we must give.  We need to move past the remark or action.  We cannot dwell on them and replay the scenario in our minds.  We need to let the poison roll off of us as we refuse to allow it to take root in our lives and drive on, no looking back.

I think my nephew is onto something and the next time my family or I am faced with biting people we will simply laugh and say “Wow, what’s wrong with them?!”  People bite but we do not have to be biting people.

Permission granted

My youngest asked me if he could pick me a “beautiful red flower.”  I was up to my elbows in paint.  Seriously, I had paint everywhere except on the object I was painting.  I was a little distracted.  I seem to have a habit of being distracted when he asks something that reaps consequences.  Come to think of it, he seems to know just when to strike.  He can see the look of total focus on my face, he can smell the distraction in the air and that’s when he closes in for the kill.  I know it.  Anyway, with my attention diverted to my painting task, I responded “sure.”  Smiling he bolted to pick me the beautiful red flower.  I didn’t give it much thought.  I figured he found one of those small orangish-red weeds in our yard.   I was covered in paint and I think the fumes were interfering with the speed of my mental faculties. 

He returned a short time later.  He was beaming as he said sweetly “Here Mommy!”  In his hands he held my one and only beautiful Red Aster which he removed from my flower bed roots and all.

I took a deep breath…deep breath…deep breath…then whoa, thanks to the can of paint, I began to get light headed.   Face glowing, he stood while grasping the uprooted flower awaiting my reply.  A sudden warm and fuzzy euphoria enveloped me.  I think I was high on paint. 

The Red Aster now sits in a vase on my table along with some wild grass that he finds beautiful.   Fearing that my entire perennial flower bed would be uprooted, I threatened the most extreme consequences if his little fingers dared to touch another “beautiful flower”…permission granted or not!

Guess what my mom taught me to do???

Here’s a hint…..

Yes, we busted out her pressure cooker, blew off the dust, brought it to my home and began the adventure.  I respect those individuals who can because it is a lot of work!  Truth be told my mom did most of the work since I was “learning” but still, we’re talking hours here people.  Even with all of the work there is just something satisfying about looking over rims and rims of jars.  See….

….and thinking ‘I did that!’ Wow.  Now, one may consider tomatoes to be enough for the day but not my mom.  She is a true slave driver and we tease her mercilessly about her whip crackin’ demeanor.  In addition to the gazillion tomatoes, she brought a bushel of green beans too.  My 80+ year old Grammie began slaving away with those experienced bean snapping hands.                                    

Grama threatened instant death…like snapping my neck rather than the beans death….if I placed anymore than a photo of her hands on this site. Sooooo, I will comply since I have a fondness for my cute little neck.   Since Grama is hands off, enjoy more photos of the beans!


OK, enough of the bean photos.  My mom did not say anything about keeping her photo off this site so here is the woman who taught me all I know 🙂
Thanks MOMMY!!!!