Albert's family has this tradition: They switch out the dad's first name for his middle name when the first son is born. Albert's son would have been named William Albert...had he married any other girl. It took a few hours to name Jonas. I knew I wanted a "J" name. William Jonas was born on December 27th swaddled between Christmas and Lilli's birthday.
Today Jonas turns 9. There is so much to this guy, but his sense of humor is what nakes him stand out. He loves to pull off his shirt and make his stomach dance. He loves to cross his eyes and make you smile. Jonas is not what you call an old soul. Everything he sees is completely new...even if he has seen it 5 times. He says whoa and awesome a lot. He is genuinely amazed at how stuff works. He still loves stuffed animals, pillow pets, and blankets. He also loves video games and movies. It as if Albert was cloned...I rarely see myself in Jonas, but I see him in me. I see everything he has introduced me to. I cannot walk by certain places without remembering who he introduced me to there. He has a big heart. He is loving and forgiving. I hope that never changes. I hope that I continue to learn from him about how exciting each new day is, how challenging things can be made easy if you only look at the with different eyes, and how life is really all about the dance..but I'll keep my shirt on.
~I hope you had the time of your life~
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
American Women Who Don't Understand Christmas :A Short List
The American woman is unfortunately displayed in television and movies as a bleached blond who needs more boobage, more jewelry, and more pocketbooks. I, in reality, don't know too many of those women. I know women from varying walks of life and few of them are super demanding when it comes to what they want. There are 2 other types of American women though that get little attention even though they make us all miserable. Let's discuss.
1. The "I don't need your charity, lady" lady. She is a strong empowered woman who has WORKED and EARNED the right to have what she wants when SHE wants it. She can be spotted carrying a chip around on her shoulder. She is friendly and talkative as long as you don't try to help her. I was in line at the checkout when the lady behind me started ogling the five dollar toy I had on the conveyor belt. It had been on the clearance shelf and I thought it was cute. We discussed where it was and that she was just too tired to go back that far into the electronics department and get it. I paid for everything and put the toy into a bag of its own, handed it to the cashier and said, "It's hers now. Okay?" You would have thought I spit on the lady the reaction I got. I left the toy, I left the store. My last words were," It's yours! ". There is no thank you from these women. There is only the attitude that they can afford it on their own and they aren't on welfare. Have we come to this in our society where feminists are so belligerent and egotistical that another mom can't just do for a sister at Christmas time?
Girls: you can be brave, you can work, and you can buy your own home without a man. You can cook, clean, fix, buy, sell, and tackle anything. We know this. We got your memo. But if you have no grace when the world steps in to offer you a three dollar cup of coffee or a homemade meal when you are sick then you really better get used to being alone. You may not need a man, but letting other women be nice to you isn't about ego. It's about love. I don't know if you never got love before or if you're just so selfish that you don't want to give any, but that's not how the rest of us work. Get over yourself and let us enjoy the holidays.
2.The "I don't deserve anything THAT nice." martyr woman. She is always doing for others. She gets a gift card at Christmas and spends it on the school secretary. Her house is full of cheap stuff that she gets on sale. I once purchased a really nice (really) housecoat for a friend at Christmas. It was from Victoria's Secret and was very age appropriate and modest. 10 years later it is still in her closet untouched. Rather than giving it away or taking it back she kept it. She says things like,"Ugh, I still cannot believe you wasted your money on me like that. I could never wear something that nice around the house just to wash dishes in." A few years ago I was given a two hundred dollar watch for Christmas. I took it back. My opinion was that I was a mom. mom's don't need watches much less expensive watches. There are always numerous thank yous from women like these, but they come with a BUT....but I'm not going to use it because it's too special and I'm not. Have we as a society taught women that after giving birth, raising a family, and holding down a job that all they really deserve is more work?
Girls: If it's a gift then it comes form a place of appreciation. You do stuff. We see you do stuff. You don't have to go buy the new cookware for yourself. we know you aren't going to buy the awesome Paula Dean cookware, but if we GIVE it to you, why not indulge, use it, love it? I look back o all the nice things I could have had. I look back on all the times I gave up something because I didn't "need" it and it was just too "nice" for me...What does that mean? Ladies if you have a friend that wants to buy you something that's not from the dollar store why can't you appreciate it. Pretty soon the gifts will stop and you will be sad that no one thinks of you. And more importantly why can you not see that YOU are being appreciated. Buying you stuff and giving you stuff is fun. Just like when you give the school secretary stuff, you think it's fun....it works both ways little momma.
All I'm saying is: as of this year I will stop bitching and moaning about price tags on gifts. I know what I give to others and I usually think that they deserve more. If that is reciprocated then fine. Maybe somebody sees me as deserving. Just because I won't do for myself doesn't mean that I should negate what other people do for me. I will take your PAY IT FORWARD moment, and I will choose to pay it forward also. I will see myself as a good person for giving and I will be a good person when receiving.
Much holiday magic to you and yours...even if yours is a crazy American woman.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
We Only Wait Because We Have Hope
You can legally spell Hanukkah any way you want. It doesn't change what this season means to me. The story whether real or embellished, myth or magic, is a very soulful story about hope.
I learned a few years ago about counting. I was in labor and some nurse said something like, "Contractions may last a minute..." she kept talking and I eventually learned that the sentence ended with "...or more and STOP holding your breath. You have to BREATHE!", but I learned that focusing and counting really do help me. I have become so obsessed with it that even when I run I have to time myself. Knowing that I need to do something for 3 minutes helps me have a goal. Counting helps me get through many difficult situations. Focusing on my breathing helps me run better too. Nurses are wise people.
The Hanukkah story is about counting also. We count the days that a group of Jews were locked inside their temple waiting for the end to come. We count the days that the oil that is used in the candles lasted, keeping the darkness away. We count the near misses, the what ifs, and the almosts. We count the children, the doughnuts, the presents. Everything counts and is counted. The real story to me though is the story of hope.The story of a group of people locked inside their temple waiting for their own demise and breathing.
They only wait because they have hope. Otherwise they would march right out there and look the enemy in the face and be destroyed. They wait because they don't want to die. They don't want to lose. They sit and simply breathe.
This year thanks to the media we have seen tragedy and loss. We have suffered emotionally with stories from all over the world. Maybe suffering with someone else for a little while takes our minds off of our own personal demons and enemies, but eventually we have to make a decision. Do we lock ourselves in our own temples, be they our minds, our schools, our homes, or our jobs; stand our ground and breathe, or do we simply pour out the oil, blow out the candles, open the doors and give up?
This season is about hope. A hope for something greater than us. A hope that through miracle or coincidence or scientific theory something will change. Something will call off our enemy. Something will happen to give us a glimpse of daylight. You may be struggling with things that I don't know about. You may be struggling with your spouse, your finances, your kids...your enemy could live 3 blocks from you or on the other side of the world. Your enemy may not have even shown his face yet, but I beg of you this: Keep breathing. Give yourself some time be it a day or 2 weeks...just count. Stand your ground and know that somebody is actually coming with a cavalry. Or maybe just a horse...but we can build a cavalry. You have to let us help. "We" are all the people that have built our own temples and have stood our own ground. "We" are those that love you and want to help you build or rebuild. "We" are everywhere.
Light your candle. Breathe. Count. Just don't give up. (TWLOHA)
http://suicidehotlines.com/national.html
http://www.twloha.com/vision/
I learned a few years ago about counting. I was in labor and some nurse said something like, "Contractions may last a minute..." she kept talking and I eventually learned that the sentence ended with "...or more and STOP holding your breath. You have to BREATHE!", but I learned that focusing and counting really do help me. I have become so obsessed with it that even when I run I have to time myself. Knowing that I need to do something for 3 minutes helps me have a goal. Counting helps me get through many difficult situations. Focusing on my breathing helps me run better too. Nurses are wise people.
The Hanukkah story is about counting also. We count the days that a group of Jews were locked inside their temple waiting for the end to come. We count the days that the oil that is used in the candles lasted, keeping the darkness away. We count the near misses, the what ifs, and the almosts. We count the children, the doughnuts, the presents. Everything counts and is counted. The real story to me though is the story of hope.The story of a group of people locked inside their temple waiting for their own demise and breathing.
They only wait because they have hope. Otherwise they would march right out there and look the enemy in the face and be destroyed. They wait because they don't want to die. They don't want to lose. They sit and simply breathe.
This year thanks to the media we have seen tragedy and loss. We have suffered emotionally with stories from all over the world. Maybe suffering with someone else for a little while takes our minds off of our own personal demons and enemies, but eventually we have to make a decision. Do we lock ourselves in our own temples, be they our minds, our schools, our homes, or our jobs; stand our ground and breathe, or do we simply pour out the oil, blow out the candles, open the doors and give up?
This season is about hope. A hope for something greater than us. A hope that through miracle or coincidence or scientific theory something will change. Something will call off our enemy. Something will happen to give us a glimpse of daylight. You may be struggling with things that I don't know about. You may be struggling with your spouse, your finances, your kids...your enemy could live 3 blocks from you or on the other side of the world. Your enemy may not have even shown his face yet, but I beg of you this: Keep breathing. Give yourself some time be it a day or 2 weeks...just count. Stand your ground and know that somebody is actually coming with a cavalry. Or maybe just a horse...but we can build a cavalry. You have to let us help. "We" are all the people that have built our own temples and have stood our own ground. "We" are those that love you and want to help you build or rebuild. "We" are everywhere.
Light your candle. Breathe. Count. Just don't give up. (TWLOHA)
http://suicidehotlines.com/national.html
http://www.twloha.com/vision/
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Nesting
As we start into this lovely season, a season which some of us cannot enjoy without snow, I have to pause and think about the connections I have made this year and what this time of year means. I have went back and forth over the years, even at one point refusing to have a tree, trying to find exactly what it was I wanted for my family during the holiday season. What did I want to teach them? What did I want them to remember? This is all I've got so far:
We always have a bottled Coke on Christmas Eve. It was Walt's tradition probably dating back to his childhood when Coke was a big deal and the polar bear sold you the concept of a perfect wintry Christmas. We have a friend who still insists on buying us a 6 pack for Christmas and visits Walt's grave with Coke in hand. My dad believed that Christmas Eve was about Christmas music on bad AM stations and about enjoying the lights, and if you felt any differently then you needed to sit down shut up and enjoy it anyway. My kids have their own traditions for Christmas Eve. They stay up late, snuggled together on a couch or on the floor watching George of the Jungle.
We began celebrating Chanakkuh a few years ago. It allows the kids a time to read the stories, practice the fine art of dreidle spinning, listen to some really good music and take some time to appreciate their Israeli blood. It's not a time of education but embracing. For some kids Chanakkuh will be forever part of their lives and for others it will end when they leave home. My job is to try to allow them to see all sides of the season and create their own traditions.
I like the Christmas Eve gatherings in local churches. My favorite has always been the Midnight Mass just because it is so very formal. There is a stoic beauty in watching the nuns come down the aisle and realizing the sacrifice made during this holiday.
Personally this time of year really is about the Solstice. I look at the Winter and see how easy we have it today. I think about what this time of year is supposed to be about and it makes me anxious, yet gives me hope. In the years before grocery stores and all night restaurants we would have been a people that took the month off from school and helped mom and dad prepare the home for the cold days ahead. We would have made a last ditch effort to trade firewood for a neighbor's pig. We would have boarded up the house and grabbed our blankets and waited for the cold to pass, hoping that we would survive on the crops we grew and bartered for. We would have each other. We would hold each other. We would essentially "nest". This is what the holiday is about for me. Taking my children into a warm house and holding on until spring, surviving the longest day and waiting to hear the new birds sing when the sun comes up in Spring. It is a beautiful old holiday dressed in fire, friends, and food. It is a month spent thinking about all we lost and figuring out how to do better next year. For all the commercialization of this holiday, for how we have trivialized it, I am truly ashamed. It is a time when the world is supposed to stop for a few minutes while we figure out how to be a better group of people.
No matter how you celebrate the holiday, I will always have a blanket, a Coke, and a copy of George of the Jungle for you. Because sharing is the real reason for the season. My love to you all dear friends.~Mama Shey
We always have a bottled Coke on Christmas Eve. It was Walt's tradition probably dating back to his childhood when Coke was a big deal and the polar bear sold you the concept of a perfect wintry Christmas. We have a friend who still insists on buying us a 6 pack for Christmas and visits Walt's grave with Coke in hand. My dad believed that Christmas Eve was about Christmas music on bad AM stations and about enjoying the lights, and if you felt any differently then you needed to sit down shut up and enjoy it anyway. My kids have their own traditions for Christmas Eve. They stay up late, snuggled together on a couch or on the floor watching George of the Jungle.
We began celebrating Chanakkuh a few years ago. It allows the kids a time to read the stories, practice the fine art of dreidle spinning, listen to some really good music and take some time to appreciate their Israeli blood. It's not a time of education but embracing. For some kids Chanakkuh will be forever part of their lives and for others it will end when they leave home. My job is to try to allow them to see all sides of the season and create their own traditions.
I like the Christmas Eve gatherings in local churches. My favorite has always been the Midnight Mass just because it is so very formal. There is a stoic beauty in watching the nuns come down the aisle and realizing the sacrifice made during this holiday.
Personally this time of year really is about the Solstice. I look at the Winter and see how easy we have it today. I think about what this time of year is supposed to be about and it makes me anxious, yet gives me hope. In the years before grocery stores and all night restaurants we would have been a people that took the month off from school and helped mom and dad prepare the home for the cold days ahead. We would have made a last ditch effort to trade firewood for a neighbor's pig. We would have boarded up the house and grabbed our blankets and waited for the cold to pass, hoping that we would survive on the crops we grew and bartered for. We would have each other. We would hold each other. We would essentially "nest". This is what the holiday is about for me. Taking my children into a warm house and holding on until spring, surviving the longest day and waiting to hear the new birds sing when the sun comes up in Spring. It is a beautiful old holiday dressed in fire, friends, and food. It is a month spent thinking about all we lost and figuring out how to do better next year. For all the commercialization of this holiday, for how we have trivialized it, I am truly ashamed. It is a time when the world is supposed to stop for a few minutes while we figure out how to be a better group of people.
No matter how you celebrate the holiday, I will always have a blanket, a Coke, and a copy of George of the Jungle for you. Because sharing is the real reason for the season. My love to you all dear friends.~Mama Shey
Monday, November 19, 2012
Black Friday and How Not to be a Jerk
So, here's a little info to get you through your Thanksgiving and Black Friday shopping.
1. The lady working on aisle 9 left her home at 7:00 p.m. to clock in at 7:30. She will work all Thanksgiving night and get home at 5:00a.m. Be nice to her or else.
2. If "Be the change you want to see in the world" is your mantra: You shouldn't be shopping. But if you are you better be the one in that 20 minute checkout line singing Holly Jolly Christmas. Or else.
3. Do not give the checkout lady a hard time about 50 cents or 2 dollars. Not if you're saving 30 bucks. There are scanners alllll over the store. Price check yourself before you get in line or be prepared to accept that measly 2 dollar difference. There are 15 people behind you. Get over it.
4. I don't really care if you're out shopping because this is THE MOST WONDERFUL SPECTACULAR AMAZING SEASON EVER!!!!! or if you're shopping for baby Jesus. If you don't hold the door for grandma or offer to help the lady with a screaming child get out to her car you are a jackass.
5. You're going to have to eat. Don't tell me you just saved 120 dollars on "stuff" then not tip your waitress. She doesn't even get Christmas off. Tip the waitress really reallly well. Or else.
6. So, you went and got yourself a babysitter? Wow. Guess what, mom? The lady on aisle 3 doesn't have that luxury, but really wanted to experience this American tradition. When you hear her baby wailing please remember that your baby is at home wailing at Grandma because he wants more candy, he wants TV time, he wants to stay up late, he wants his mommy. Cut people some slack. If baby Jesus cried you would tell Mary, 'Hey, It means you have a baby. A real life beautiful, warm, healthy baby. Crying is natural." Do not forget to be gentle with people.
7. 3 hours ago you were holding hands and praying with Aunt Betsy about everything under the sun that you were thankful for. And now, now you have your hand stuck to a 300 dollar computer that you could have bought in March for 289 and you are daring anybody to touch it. Remember to be thankful that you live in a country where money and stuff is so readily available.
8. If you go out and use a charge card you didn't save a penny. If you can't do the math on interest rates and monthly payments, you get what you get in life. You get debt for Christmas. Congratulations!!
9. If you see someone struggling with money, do the right thing. The words, "You need this more than I do." are more important now than ever before.
10. If you find yourself cursing......go home. It will all be there Dec. 22nd. and probably cheaper.
11. have fun. be safe. don't yell at people. don't forget to call home to let the people that love you know you are alright.
Whatever you are doing, do it for the right reasons. And sing. You better sing. (or else)
1. The lady working on aisle 9 left her home at 7:00 p.m. to clock in at 7:30. She will work all Thanksgiving night and get home at 5:00a.m. Be nice to her or else.
2. If "Be the change you want to see in the world" is your mantra: You shouldn't be shopping. But if you are you better be the one in that 20 minute checkout line singing Holly Jolly Christmas. Or else.
3. Do not give the checkout lady a hard time about 50 cents or 2 dollars. Not if you're saving 30 bucks. There are scanners alllll over the store. Price check yourself before you get in line or be prepared to accept that measly 2 dollar difference. There are 15 people behind you. Get over it.
4. I don't really care if you're out shopping because this is THE MOST WONDERFUL SPECTACULAR AMAZING SEASON EVER!!!!! or if you're shopping for baby Jesus. If you don't hold the door for grandma or offer to help the lady with a screaming child get out to her car you are a jackass.
5. You're going to have to eat. Don't tell me you just saved 120 dollars on "stuff" then not tip your waitress. She doesn't even get Christmas off. Tip the waitress really reallly well. Or else.
6. So, you went and got yourself a babysitter? Wow. Guess what, mom? The lady on aisle 3 doesn't have that luxury, but really wanted to experience this American tradition. When you hear her baby wailing please remember that your baby is at home wailing at Grandma because he wants more candy, he wants TV time, he wants to stay up late, he wants his mommy. Cut people some slack. If baby Jesus cried you would tell Mary, 'Hey, It means you have a baby. A real life beautiful, warm, healthy baby. Crying is natural." Do not forget to be gentle with people.
7. 3 hours ago you were holding hands and praying with Aunt Betsy about everything under the sun that you were thankful for. And now, now you have your hand stuck to a 300 dollar computer that you could have bought in March for 289 and you are daring anybody to touch it. Remember to be thankful that you live in a country where money and stuff is so readily available.
8. If you go out and use a charge card you didn't save a penny. If you can't do the math on interest rates and monthly payments, you get what you get in life. You get debt for Christmas. Congratulations!!
9. If you see someone struggling with money, do the right thing. The words, "You need this more than I do." are more important now than ever before.
10. If you find yourself cursing......go home. It will all be there Dec. 22nd. and probably cheaper.
11. have fun. be safe. don't yell at people. don't forget to call home to let the people that love you know you are alright.
Whatever you are doing, do it for the right reasons. And sing. You better sing. (or else)
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Who are You in Her Time of Need?
The phone rang last night. Lilli was already in bed and me and the boys were watching X Files. My aunt was on the other end. She wanted to know if I could come down for a few minutes and look at some clothes that my kids might be able to use. I walked down the hill and entered her living room to find bags of clothes everywhere. Clothes were being was sorted into very very small piles, and one very large one. The large pile was clothes that they couldn't use.
A friend's trailer burned. They lost everything. They lost their dog. There is no way to describe the soul stripping pain of such an event, but then, there is a way to add insult to injury.
Growing up with the dad that I had was enlightening. Maybe he didn't finish college but he was pretty smart. I remember this time of year with Walt because he would always make special trips to the grocery store to buy food for the church's food pantry. He mostly went because he felt he needed to make up for all the crap other people left in the pantry. He once found a jar of caviar. Another time he found some super tiny really expensive jars of jam. People literally were "dumping" their Thanksgiving food or Christmas presents that they didn't want into the pantry. This made Walt livid to say the least. I was taken through the grocery store and shown what was appropriate to buy. "You don't buy dented cans. You don't buy food that has been opened and then taped back closed. You give ONLY, do you hear me, ONLY what you yourself would eat." He taught me about powdered milk and how we always are to buy coffee for the pantry because elderly people may not eat breakfast but they will at least have coffee.
I learned from Walt that just because we won't or can't wear it anymore doesn't mean somebody else wants to. There is a difference between things we give to Good Will and things that should hit the trash can. This time of year especially when we are supposed to care for the orphans and the elderly why are we giving them things that aren't good enough for us? Why are we treating them like animals and saying, "Well this is better than nothing" In some cases, no, we should have really stuck with nothing. I opened my own door one day and found a few bags of nondescript food. The boxes weren't labeled. Bags of rice were full but opened and stapled back together. It would have been of more use just to give me the five dollars that was spent on that stuff. I was really hurt that someone thought so little of me and my kids...all the while patting themselves on the back for being a do-gooder. I wouldn't dare feed my kids food that was opened. You're kidding right? And cans without labels...?? please tell me what that's about.
As I sat in my aunt's living room my heart was breaking. Sure, people were giving bags of clothes to a family in need , but there were boots on the floor that only a 2 year old could wear. No one asked or cared about sizes. No one asked or cared what gender the kids were. I appreciated whole heartily what was given to me knowing that they were going to make another trip to ECCCM tomorrow to give up what they couldn't use, but really people: The poor and needy are not your dumping ground. If you're giving them shoes with holes or shoes without mates you aren't getting any G-d points.
G-d wants us to build our houses on rocks? Okay. Then help me find mine. Help the poor, the homeless, the needy identify their rocks. For some it is a ruby. For others, an emerald. Some like marble and others want limestone. The problem is the do-gooders who believe that some of us only deserve asphalt. Every time you give less than what you yourself would eat or wear you are making it abundantly clear that you don't have any respect for me or see the value in me that you see in yourself.
Each time you help someone find their own rock to build on , treating them as if they are gifts from G-d, then you are building up another human being to go out into the world and heal, help, and build. You are not just teaching them to see themselves as worthy, but you are helping them discover beauty in others. We all deserve rocks. It's just abundantly clear how many people have sand handy.
A friend's trailer burned. They lost everything. They lost their dog. There is no way to describe the soul stripping pain of such an event, but then, there is a way to add insult to injury.
Growing up with the dad that I had was enlightening. Maybe he didn't finish college but he was pretty smart. I remember this time of year with Walt because he would always make special trips to the grocery store to buy food for the church's food pantry. He mostly went because he felt he needed to make up for all the crap other people left in the pantry. He once found a jar of caviar. Another time he found some super tiny really expensive jars of jam. People literally were "dumping" their Thanksgiving food or Christmas presents that they didn't want into the pantry. This made Walt livid to say the least. I was taken through the grocery store and shown what was appropriate to buy. "You don't buy dented cans. You don't buy food that has been opened and then taped back closed. You give ONLY, do you hear me, ONLY what you yourself would eat." He taught me about powdered milk and how we always are to buy coffee for the pantry because elderly people may not eat breakfast but they will at least have coffee.
I learned from Walt that just because we won't or can't wear it anymore doesn't mean somebody else wants to. There is a difference between things we give to Good Will and things that should hit the trash can. This time of year especially when we are supposed to care for the orphans and the elderly why are we giving them things that aren't good enough for us? Why are we treating them like animals and saying, "Well this is better than nothing" In some cases, no, we should have really stuck with nothing. I opened my own door one day and found a few bags of nondescript food. The boxes weren't labeled. Bags of rice were full but opened and stapled back together. It would have been of more use just to give me the five dollars that was spent on that stuff. I was really hurt that someone thought so little of me and my kids...all the while patting themselves on the back for being a do-gooder. I wouldn't dare feed my kids food that was opened. You're kidding right? And cans without labels...?? please tell me what that's about.
As I sat in my aunt's living room my heart was breaking. Sure, people were giving bags of clothes to a family in need , but there were boots on the floor that only a 2 year old could wear. No one asked or cared about sizes. No one asked or cared what gender the kids were. I appreciated whole heartily what was given to me knowing that they were going to make another trip to ECCCM tomorrow to give up what they couldn't use, but really people: The poor and needy are not your dumping ground. If you're giving them shoes with holes or shoes without mates you aren't getting any G-d points.
G-d wants us to build our houses on rocks? Okay. Then help me find mine. Help the poor, the homeless, the needy identify their rocks. For some it is a ruby. For others, an emerald. Some like marble and others want limestone. The problem is the do-gooders who believe that some of us only deserve asphalt. Every time you give less than what you yourself would eat or wear you are making it abundantly clear that you don't have any respect for me or see the value in me that you see in yourself.
Each time you help someone find their own rock to build on , treating them as if they are gifts from G-d, then you are building up another human being to go out into the world and heal, help, and build. You are not just teaching them to see themselves as worthy, but you are helping them discover beauty in others. We all deserve rocks. It's just abundantly clear how many people have sand handy.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Willpower and Lipstick
It started with a lump in my breast. Then came a year of startling revelations. I didn't want to have cancer and I didn't want to die holding a son that would never remember his mommy. I was scared and heartbroken. In the end a quick simple out patient procedure found nothing abnormal, but I had decisions to make. Did I want anymore children? The answer was no. Having kids was wonderful, but the thought of leaving one behind that couldn't write his name much less pronounce mine was crushing. After much, much, much deliberation it was decided that my husband would have a vasectomy. It would be a selfless act on his part.
And then we waited. day 4, day 12, day 22, day 29.....sigh.....It was day 29 that did it.
I was in a raw panic. Sheer torture. What the hell just happened.
Day 104. Albert say "I was wondering when you were going to tell me...."
She came into the world bringing with her a softness I had never seen. A beauty and gentleness that I had never allowed myself to tap into. She was plump and round and glowing. It took hours to name her. She was so very tiny. Her willpower brought her here. And nothing has been the same since. They say that some children bring families together. She reminds us every day that she is the center of our universe.
Alice is quick witted, even tempered, and loyal. The problem is that she is so very different from me and Lilli that sometimes we are out of our element with her. And unfortunately we don't get a say so about it. When she was 2 we were looking through a magazine. She found a picture of Diane Kruger (Helen of Troy). Alice points and says, "Do you think that's my real mommy?" She has always been fascinated with trying to find and bond with her own people. We may pass a make-up counter and have to stop because she found some stunning blond that she needs to get to know. She talks consistently about a door on the other side of the sun that leads back to her own world. Alice may love us but I know that she feels urged on by something deeper that wants her to go, meet, grab, grasp, soar. She is looking for those that aren't just lovely on the outside but have the same willpower: The generous of spirit, the rah-rahs that cheer you on regardless of the score, those that believe in fairies and magic. She knows she is fabulous but she questions why we don't see ourselves that way.
I have found a new love of lipstick, make-up, high heels, nail polish, and Reese Peanut Butter Cups thanks to this tiny loud mouthed charmer. She reminds me each day that you need to wear something that makes you look pretty. You need to feel pretty. You need to feel worthy. What is keeping you from smiling when there is so much music playing? What is holding you back and killing your willpower? I will forever be grateful to day 29 and the abundance of life it brought when I thought I was done with new life. I have gone from being the younger mom in the elementary school to being the older. I have gone from hating breakfast to understanding that there is a deep spiritual bond found in sausage and chocolate cake at 7.30 in the morning. I have remembered why it's so important to pray over the flowers after they are planted and talk to them as they grow in sweltering heat. I have had to stop and talk to people that I have nothing in common with because she finds them interesting and worthy.
We are all beautiful, interesting and worthy. You have your own willpower and why the hell don't you wear lipstick when you're angry? It really does make you less angry.... And don't forget to eat your chocolate.
Happy Birthday Tika Rae.
And then we waited. day 4, day 12, day 22, day 29.....sigh.....It was day 29 that did it.
I was in a raw panic. Sheer torture. What the hell just happened.
Day 104. Albert say "I was wondering when you were going to tell me...."
She came into the world bringing with her a softness I had never seen. A beauty and gentleness that I had never allowed myself to tap into. She was plump and round and glowing. It took hours to name her. She was so very tiny. Her willpower brought her here. And nothing has been the same since. They say that some children bring families together. She reminds us every day that she is the center of our universe.
Alice is quick witted, even tempered, and loyal. The problem is that she is so very different from me and Lilli that sometimes we are out of our element with her. And unfortunately we don't get a say so about it. When she was 2 we were looking through a magazine. She found a picture of Diane Kruger (Helen of Troy). Alice points and says, "Do you think that's my real mommy?" She has always been fascinated with trying to find and bond with her own people. We may pass a make-up counter and have to stop because she found some stunning blond that she needs to get to know. She talks consistently about a door on the other side of the sun that leads back to her own world. Alice may love us but I know that she feels urged on by something deeper that wants her to go, meet, grab, grasp, soar. She is looking for those that aren't just lovely on the outside but have the same willpower: The generous of spirit, the rah-rahs that cheer you on regardless of the score, those that believe in fairies and magic. She knows she is fabulous but she questions why we don't see ourselves that way.
I have found a new love of lipstick, make-up, high heels, nail polish, and Reese Peanut Butter Cups thanks to this tiny loud mouthed charmer. She reminds me each day that you need to wear something that makes you look pretty. You need to feel pretty. You need to feel worthy. What is keeping you from smiling when there is so much music playing? What is holding you back and killing your willpower? I will forever be grateful to day 29 and the abundance of life it brought when I thought I was done with new life. I have gone from being the younger mom in the elementary school to being the older. I have gone from hating breakfast to understanding that there is a deep spiritual bond found in sausage and chocolate cake at 7.30 in the morning. I have remembered why it's so important to pray over the flowers after they are planted and talk to them as they grow in sweltering heat. I have had to stop and talk to people that I have nothing in common with because she finds them interesting and worthy.
We are all beautiful, interesting and worthy. You have your own willpower and why the hell don't you wear lipstick when you're angry? It really does make you less angry.... And don't forget to eat your chocolate.
Happy Birthday Tika Rae.
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