Whoo-Whee... this motherhood/adulthood thing is kind of a slog, isn't it?
Goodness. Let's just say that it wasn't the best Monday morning in the world. After tears and conflict last night, there were more tears this morning, as the daughter who had shunned my every question about her performance outfit for dress rehearsal today realized five minutes after we should have been in the car headed to school that she did not actually know where her black shirt and shoes were.
Thus the crying and red face. Breaks my heart to have to let her go like that, but I also know that she needs to learn her own lessons from life and that if I shield her too much, she won't.
My friend and I were commiserating last week: in many ways, teens are much harder than toddlers. With toddlers, they cry and fall apart, but you have final say over what they do. With teens, it's a constant negotiation of limits and power as they try to find their own independence in life. I had no idea that it would still be so demanding, just in a different way.
Or as my friend said, "I thought I was just going to have to change poopy diapers in the middle of the night. I had no idea about all of the work for decades."
Still though, first thing this morning found me at Target, waving my credit card around like a magic emblem. I bought four different black shirts, socks and shoes just in case. I'll return whatever isn't needed, after I see the whole outfit -- at one time -- tonight. Yes, apparently, I do think that I can solve all of life's problems if I simply shop thoroughly enough.
Oh well. Hope all of you out there can at least find some patience within you to be kind to your offspring as needed, and those without parenting demands can find some peace and joy in life as well.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Monday Deadline
Hmm. It's already afternoon, and I barely have an idea for my assignment. All I have is the vaguest of thoughts about a place that I've been to several times. I'll have to write it out and see if it fits together and leads to some sort of life lesson.
Sometimes I don't like doing that because I don't always want to go where my writing takes me. Depends on my mood. I just want to get a block of time and work on it.
Sometimes I don't like doing that because I don't always want to go where my writing takes me. Depends on my mood. I just want to get a block of time and work on it.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Writing Joke
Horoscope says -- Enough of people who are serious. Stick to someone who can make you laugh. (It also says that if being around someone makes you feel bad about yourself, maybe that person isn't a true friend.)
So here's a joke:
A writer died and was given the option of going to heaven or hell.
She decided to check out each place first. As the writer descended into the fiery pits, she saw row upon row of writers chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they were repeatedly whipped with thorny lashes.
"Oh my," said the writer. "Let me see heaven now."
A few moments later, as she ascended into heaven, she saw rows of writers, chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they, too, were whipped with thorny lashes.
"Wait a minute," said the writer. "This is just as bad as hell!"
"Oh no, it's not," replied an unseen voice. "Here, your work gets published."
So here's a joke:
A writer died and was given the option of going to heaven or hell.
She decided to check out each place first. As the writer descended into the fiery pits, she saw row upon row of writers chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they were repeatedly whipped with thorny lashes.
"Oh my," said the writer. "Let me see heaven now."
A few moments later, as she ascended into heaven, she saw rows of writers, chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they, too, were whipped with thorny lashes.
"Wait a minute," said the writer. "This is just as bad as hell!"
"Oh no, it's not," replied an unseen voice. "Here, your work gets published."
Countdown to Christmas - Giving Day Five
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Every table in the B&N Cafe was taken. Some older guy behind me threw his drink away. But the mostly filled up trashcan knocked the lid off as he pushed the cup through. Ice scattered across the floor. Then he just wandered away.
So I got up and cleaned up all the ice, mopping up little puddles with napkins, so that nobody else would slip on it.
Every table in the B&N Cafe was taken. Some older guy behind me threw his drink away. But the mostly filled up trashcan knocked the lid off as he pushed the cup through. Ice scattered across the floor. Then he just wandered away.
So I got up and cleaned up all the ice, mopping up little puddles with napkins, so that nobody else would slip on it.
Think it Through
Here's another moment in my recent life where I used logic before emotion:
I exited Target to find a light rain falling on the grey parking lot mostly filled with cars. I made my way to my favorite parking section. I have a set of spaces where I almost always park, since repeated experience has taught me that those places are never filled, that it's a quick walk across the crosswalk to the door, and it's just generally hassle-free.
I pushed my cart along to where I had left my car. There was a stretch of empty stalls... and no car. Huh?? I know I parked here! Oh my gosh, where is my car? My car has been stolen!!
Then I looked around at the scene. Hold on there, Marie, a different part of my brain chimed in. It's raining. Look at all these other nice cars here. Do you really think someone picked your car to steal? Let's just think this through.
So, I looked one aisle over. Sure enough, there was my car, right where I had parked it.
I exited Target to find a light rain falling on the grey parking lot mostly filled with cars. I made my way to my favorite parking section. I have a set of spaces where I almost always park, since repeated experience has taught me that those places are never filled, that it's a quick walk across the crosswalk to the door, and it's just generally hassle-free.
I pushed my cart along to where I had left my car. There was a stretch of empty stalls... and no car. Huh?? I know I parked here! Oh my gosh, where is my car? My car has been stolen!!
Then I looked around at the scene. Hold on there, Marie, a different part of my brain chimed in. It's raining. Look at all these other nice cars here. Do you really think someone picked your car to steal? Let's just think this through.
So, I looked one aisle over. Sure enough, there was my car, right where I had parked it.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
A Great Gift from the Universe!
I got the best December First present this morning!
My husband and I were milling around the kitchen in our pajamas when we heard a knock on the door. Glanced outside and saw a sheriff's cruiser in front of the house. Hmm, that's usually not the best.
Also when law enforcement knocks, they generally don't want you to go change, fix your hair and tidy up real quick. So I opened the door as I was.
Turned out he was doing routine checks of our area. "Ah, yes," I said, "you won't need to check our street anymore. Come on. I've got paperwork in the car."
He was already being very nice to me, and told me that his partner had filled him in about talking to me before. When I handed over the form, his face broke into a big smile.
"Well, this is just great," he said. "Congratulations."
He took me over to his car to run the info. Because it hasn't had time to clear through the system yet, he gave me his card. "Give it another month and then call me, " he said. "I'll come back out and run everything again, and if it's not clear, I'll help you make phone calls to speed it up."
Yay. Another happy encounter with law enforcement. See, they used to show up randomly but often enough that I was always a little wary and on edge. I hated it whenever someone knocked on the door. Now that whole area of fear has just evaporated out of my life. It feels great!!
And I think the extra security of just being a "normal" person is what let me feel okay getting involved with finding that girl yesterday. It feels good to feel safe just to be my real self.
My husband and I were milling around the kitchen in our pajamas when we heard a knock on the door. Glanced outside and saw a sheriff's cruiser in front of the house. Hmm, that's usually not the best.
Also when law enforcement knocks, they generally don't want you to go change, fix your hair and tidy up real quick. So I opened the door as I was.
Turned out he was doing routine checks of our area. "Ah, yes," I said, "you won't need to check our street anymore. Come on. I've got paperwork in the car."
He was already being very nice to me, and told me that his partner had filled him in about talking to me before. When I handed over the form, his face broke into a big smile.
"Well, this is just great," he said. "Congratulations."
He took me over to his car to run the info. Because it hasn't had time to clear through the system yet, he gave me his card. "Give it another month and then call me, " he said. "I'll come back out and run everything again, and if it's not clear, I'll help you make phone calls to speed it up."
Yay. Another happy encounter with law enforcement. See, they used to show up randomly but often enough that I was always a little wary and on edge. I hated it whenever someone knocked on the door. Now that whole area of fear has just evaporated out of my life. It feels great!!
And I think the extra security of just being a "normal" person is what let me feel okay getting involved with finding that girl yesterday. It feels good to feel safe just to be my real self.
Countdown to Christmas - Giving Day Four
Friday, November 30, 2012
I thought today's mindful giving would be a breeze. I figured I had it in the bag and wouldn't need to give it a second thought. Boy, was I wrong.
See, in my family, for no clear reason, December First is an extra-holiday that we celebrate. It started long ago in our childhoods and has since snowballed into an annual family tradition. We gather together, dine, and have a bout of giving gifts that prepare for the holiday season. So our typical December First presents are things like little decorations or candles. I give the girls games or holiday DVDs and CDs or craft activities. That kind of thing.
It's a day I really enjoy so it has grown year after year. I love to shop for December First gifts in the after-Christmas 70% and 80% discounts. I'll even buy the gifts, wrap and label them and then box them up to wait for the whole year to pass. It was fun last night to watch people open gifts that I had completely forgotten buying!
Now we often have 30 or more gifts to exchange among us, so it's very much like doing a whole Christmas on the first day of the month. Last night I roasted two chickens, made potatoes and butternut squash -- a whole festive meal.
Anyway, I figured that more than covered my day's giving. So imagine my surprise when I was called upon to be heroic. My most important gift yesterday was finding a lost little girl and returning her to her hysterical mother.
I picked my daughter up after school as usual. I stood around talking for a while with a friend, then went to ask one of the teachers about an audition packet for the spring musical. She took me into the office to find a copy, and as B and I were waiting, we noticed that a mom was standing in front of the school crying and talking on a cellphone.
"I can't find her anywhere," she was yelling. "She's gone!"
The office staff started buzzing around their desks in a very worried manner, calling up the substitute teacher and the afterschool duty aides and trying to figure out who saw this mom's daughter last. The principal strode out the door looking very worried as B and I grabbed our paperwork and decided to get out of everyone's way.
As we walked to the car, we could hear the mom sobbing and screaming, in a full hysterical panic. My daughter rubbed my arm, "That's really sad," she said.
"I know."
"Hey, Mom? I really love you."
"I know sweetie. I love you too. I'm glad you're here."
It bothered both of us as we drove away. You know, I thought, if that was my child I wouldn't be getting hysterical just yet. I would be looking for her.
"Hey, B? How about if we drive by the back of the school and just see if we notice a girl or anything going on? It doesn't seem like anyone's really checked that."
My daughter was in total agreement. So we turned away from our house and cruised slowly past the school. Nothing.
I didn't think it was very likely that the girl had been abducted. But I thought she might have tried to go home with a friend and not told her mom yet. So I turned into the nearest neighborhood, looking for kids.
And there she was. In a yard on the corner, playing with two boys.
After a short conversation, it turned out that she thought she was waiting for her grandmother to pick her up. She came right up to my car, even though she should know better. So I called the school and told them she was safe. Then my daughter and I walked her back to the back gate.
The principal was there by then, striding across the soccer field with a look of immense relief on his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," he called five times.
My daughter and I headed home feeling both relieved and rather proud of ourselves. Before you panic, take some time to think it through and work through the logical options. There will always be plenty of time to cry and scream later if it's still necessary.
I thought today's mindful giving would be a breeze. I figured I had it in the bag and wouldn't need to give it a second thought. Boy, was I wrong.
See, in my family, for no clear reason, December First is an extra-holiday that we celebrate. It started long ago in our childhoods and has since snowballed into an annual family tradition. We gather together, dine, and have a bout of giving gifts that prepare for the holiday season. So our typical December First presents are things like little decorations or candles. I give the girls games or holiday DVDs and CDs or craft activities. That kind of thing.
It's a day I really enjoy so it has grown year after year. I love to shop for December First gifts in the after-Christmas 70% and 80% discounts. I'll even buy the gifts, wrap and label them and then box them up to wait for the whole year to pass. It was fun last night to watch people open gifts that I had completely forgotten buying!
Now we often have 30 or more gifts to exchange among us, so it's very much like doing a whole Christmas on the first day of the month. Last night I roasted two chickens, made potatoes and butternut squash -- a whole festive meal.
Anyway, I figured that more than covered my day's giving. So imagine my surprise when I was called upon to be heroic. My most important gift yesterday was finding a lost little girl and returning her to her hysterical mother.
I picked my daughter up after school as usual. I stood around talking for a while with a friend, then went to ask one of the teachers about an audition packet for the spring musical. She took me into the office to find a copy, and as B and I were waiting, we noticed that a mom was standing in front of the school crying and talking on a cellphone.
"I can't find her anywhere," she was yelling. "She's gone!"
The office staff started buzzing around their desks in a very worried manner, calling up the substitute teacher and the afterschool duty aides and trying to figure out who saw this mom's daughter last. The principal strode out the door looking very worried as B and I grabbed our paperwork and decided to get out of everyone's way.
As we walked to the car, we could hear the mom sobbing and screaming, in a full hysterical panic. My daughter rubbed my arm, "That's really sad," she said.
"I know."
"Hey, Mom? I really love you."
"I know sweetie. I love you too. I'm glad you're here."
It bothered both of us as we drove away. You know, I thought, if that was my child I wouldn't be getting hysterical just yet. I would be looking for her.
"Hey, B? How about if we drive by the back of the school and just see if we notice a girl or anything going on? It doesn't seem like anyone's really checked that."
My daughter was in total agreement. So we turned away from our house and cruised slowly past the school. Nothing.
I didn't think it was very likely that the girl had been abducted. But I thought she might have tried to go home with a friend and not told her mom yet. So I turned into the nearest neighborhood, looking for kids.
And there she was. In a yard on the corner, playing with two boys.
After a short conversation, it turned out that she thought she was waiting for her grandmother to pick her up. She came right up to my car, even though she should know better. So I called the school and told them she was safe. Then my daughter and I walked her back to the back gate.
The principal was there by then, striding across the soccer field with a look of immense relief on his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," he called five times.
My daughter and I headed home feeling both relieved and rather proud of ourselves. Before you panic, take some time to think it through and work through the logical options. There will always be plenty of time to cry and scream later if it's still necessary.
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