Not a Cheese

I am getting old(er) and this is how I know: my mind and body are a-changin'. For instance, my food is out of focus. I sit at the dining room table and look down at my plate only to discover that I can’t quite see what I am eating unless I wear my reading glasses on the tip of my nose. I do a gazillion stomach crunches (give or take a gabillion), and put to use those Pilates moves I learned from my Denise Austin DVD and yet I still have a pooch. I forget everyday words like “paper towel,” “wallet,” “lemon pepper,” and “Angelina Jolie” in the middle of sentences and have to close my eyes to visualize the word I’m in need of. When I “see” it in my head, then I can say it and continue on with my thought. (Annoying to me, somewhat entertaining to my kids.)

There are other clues that I’m creeping up there in age, I am more serious about eating healthy, yet I don’t feel the drive to fit into skinny jeans that have that cutting-off-your-circulation-look. There are more important things to aspire to. Also, I feel bad if I kill a spider or squash a bug. I do my best nowadays to scoop up the critter and set it free outside. Usually, that is. I get teary-eyed when I sing hymns because I know better as I mature that God is for me so no one or nothing can be against me and I'm so grateful. A bad hair day now is what it is, but it doesn’t really affect my day. Perhaps I’m just used to it after all these years. Sigh.

I’m creeping up to age 46. I may be getting old(er), but I really don’t care that much. I choose to smile about it although such an act will certainly add to my laugh lines. And I plan on seeing any future glass of prune juice as half-full.

“Age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese.” -Billie Burke (a.k.a. Glenda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz)

What I've Learned From Books

I love the library. I love the feel of it, the smell, the sounds ("Shhh!), and the candy store excitement I experience when I see all those yummy books!! So although today my plan was to be in the library just long enough for my son to check out a book for a school assignment, I ended up losing myself for much longer in the "New Book" section.

I grabbed a cookbook called "Baked" and a novel that looked intriguing even though I'm not yet done reading the two books that currently live on my nightstand. I thumbed through some new financial books and also one on decorating your house in the style of French Provencial. I could have spent all afternoon perusing the travel books and, if I wanted to, I could have learned a great deal about raising horses or sewing bags for all occasions. Feeling the pressure to make my way to the self-checkout, however, I gave the last shelf in the "New Book" section one more glance and there I found a book that ultimately helped to snap me out of the kid-in-a-candy-store-state I was in. The rather thick book was all about organizing your home office. It had chapter after chapter about organizing files and eliminating unnecessary paperwork. Some of the headings promised fail-proof techniques to keeping your desk clean and your work space efficient...I was tempted to add that book to my pile. I could have easily checked it out, brought it home and read it cover to cover, but this one fact stopped me: while I sat with my cup of tea and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies reading the pages of that book and committing to memory the wise advice it had to offer, I would not be doing what it is that I truly need to do which is CLEAN MY DESK AND GET ORGANIZED! The truth is I know how to do what I have to do, I'd just rather do other things like hang out at the library...and write in my blog! Guilty again.

Rain, Rain...I'm Okay With You

Today marks our 143rd day of rain in a row. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, but the skies have been dumping regularly for a near record amount of time these last few weeks and I can become a bit dramatic after so much cold and wetness. “Oh, the sun will never shine again.” “My legs will be a permanent shade of stark white.” “My hair will stay in its frizzy state until the day I die…which could be soon if I begin to mildew.” These are the thoughts that come to mind and stay a while.

But, like most of us dramatic types, we have the ability to swing the other way when we find a lining that is silver—even a sliver of silver. I found such a lining today. I had 36 minutes to myself in a quiet house this afternoon. While my husband paid his dues and picked up the boys and the other kids in our carpool arrangement, I made tea. I swirled plenty of honey into it (and, I confess, a sprinkle of sugar!) and donned my husband’s cheater glasses. They look ridiculous on me, but they are stronger than my own cheaters, therefore they are my favorites. Then, I grabbed my Anne Perry mystery novel, plopped down on my sagging wing-back chair and indulged in the luxury of reading in the middle of the day even though I had plenty of other things to do. It was, of course, dumping rain outside so I wasn’t about to brave the storm and bring in the trashcan from the curb. I couldn’t force myself to do dishes because inevitably I would have had to look outside at the depressing rain (the window above my sink is impossible to ignore) while I scrubbed a soaking casserole dish. The sight of yet more rain could have been lethal. I didn’t dare throw clothes into the washing machine because the sound of even a drip of more water entering my life very likely would have thrown me into the deep end. Figuratively speaking. So, my best choice on this soggy afternoon was to ignore the work beckoning me and pick up my book for 36 minutes. I enjoyed myself immensely.

So, when it rains tomorrow as predicted, I’ll be ready with my book and silver-lining attitude. If I’m lucky it will pour for at least a good 45 minutes.

Great Day

The first-grade boy I work with was all smiles this week as he engaged in play with other boys at recess. He struggles a bit socially so for weeks we've been working on issues of play. His efforts are already paying off. One day, for example, he was enjoying a rip-roaring game of Four-Square (perhaps you didn't know that Four-Square could be "rip-roaring", but trust me on this), when a few of the other players decided to switch games and use the ball to play Three-Flies-Up--or a version of it, anyway. They invited Sam (not his real name) to join them and together they dove at the ball and each other during the better part of lunch recess. They got muddy and fresh grass stains adorned their clothes like badges of honor. When the dreaded bell rang I met up with Sam and gave him a "high-five." "You played some serious ball out there," I said. He beamed up at me and hugged my leg. "THAT was a great day!"

I love the simplicity of children! Notice Sam did not say, "That was a great recess." To him, his 20 minutes of being included in play and playing hard made his entire day great! His comment has helped me all week to take notice of the "little" things and be grateful. My brother came to visit this week. My sister-in-law sent me an encouraging email. The new recipe I tried for bean soup with bacon turned out just fine. My husband is madly in love with me. God loves me....It's a great day.

Why So Picky?

We all have our likes and dislikes. I, for example, prefer to exercise in the late afternoon/early evening as opposed to sweating off the pounds first thing in the morning. I choose to tune in to light-hearted shows and biographies and stay away from television dramas--especially those with titles that begin with the initials C.S.I. I delight in the sound of loose change being dropped into our antique glass Sparklette's bottle. And I feel a little queasy at the sound of money being thrown out the window--Whoosh! (That's the sound of having to pay for a traffic ticket.) I detest mummy-style sleeping bags, jeans that shrink after the first wash and I am profoundly disappointed when nothing "fun" comes in the mail. I love clean sheets, s'mores and Paris in the spring.

See? I understand likes and dislikes. But what I don't understand is how a certain member of my family can dislike just about all food I put in front of him at dinner--unless it is a hamburger. He picks out the black beans from the taco salad. If I dare try and sneak mushrooms into a sauce, he detects them immediately and spends half his time at the table "fishing" for them and the other half accusing me of trying to poison him. Onions won't be tolerated. Yogurt makes him gag. And, refried beans, apparently, are from the devil. I'm trying to put healthy food on the table, yet every night I am challenged. (Brown rice does not give us worms!) I've threatened this family member ("Go ahead and starve"). I've made compromises. ("Eat three bites of this and then you may have the rest of that.") Etc., etc.

Now it is time, once again, to go downstairs and decide what I will make for dinner tonight. Lucky for you-know-who, I actually feel like making hamburgers. Peace will reign.

Confession

I have not been entirely faithful. Don't get me wrong, I've been faithful to my husband. We've been married for 23 years and I would never do anything to mess up such a great run! I've been faithful to my kids. This morning they all had clean underwear and I'll be sure to serve at least one green vegetable at dinner. I've been faithful to my boss at the store. The store is a sinking ship (we're in liquidation as I write this), but I have taken on extra hours to be a help in the storm and to support my shipmates (and earn the money while I can). I've been faithful to my mother. I call her most days of the week because I miss her and she is my link to "Dancing with the Stars". And although I'm lousy with Facebook, I do try to be a faithful friend and contact people on a regular basis. I meet with a handful of friends on Friday mornings--we're a prayer group that meets at 6:15 a.m. (It has taken me four years, but I now accept the fact that God is actually alert at 6:15 and is all ears even though, personally, I am only half-awake.)

Still, I have not been entirely faithful. I have not been faithful to this blog.

I started this with the idea that I would write in it on a regular basis. I would formulate thoughts and tell of my journey while always giving it a true, positive twist. We all need "positive". And, in most situations there is a positive side to things that can be found if you are willing to clip the rose-colored tinted lenses onto your glasses and tilt your head. Even more than that, however, you must be willing to have faith that God is in control and that He loves you dearly. He has a plan and He wants you to trust Him with it. I confess that I have not been faithful to this blog because I have been challenged in that area over the last handful of months. I've also been spending time writing pieces that come with a paycheck (yay!), but that hasn't left much time to keep this blog filled with words, sentences and deep (positive) meanings. (Besides, is anyone reading this?) I've also been over-the-top busy being faithful to the aforementioned--family, work, friends...

But now, on this 23rd day of August 2009, I hereby renew my vow to this blog (at least on a semi-regular basis)...even if it's only for me.

Overruled!

I was stunned recently when I was chosen to serve on a jury. I thought for sure the defense lawyer, especially, would not want me on this particular case. But after a full day and a half of choosing jurors, it was announced to the 40-plus people still in the courtroom that juror seat number 11 would be mine for the next five days at least. And so it was. (And yes, thanks to me and 11 other jurors, we found the defendant guilty of two out of the three charges. I am a superhero of justice.)

While being in court had its slow, oh-my-gosh-I-can't-keep-my-eyes-open-any-longer moments, it actually had many more interesting and eye-opening ones. I learned quite a bit from my experience and rushed home each evening to try out my new skills on the family. For instance, when my eleven and twelve year-old argued, as usual, over something completely irritating, I asked them to both explain the problem to me as they saw it. I reminded them that they were under oath. When one of them objected to the other's rendition of the issue at hand I either "sustained" the protest or stated, "I'll allow it." I then went into questioning mode, warning them I would not automatically take any evidence they offered as being proof of the truth. I could tell they were impressed with my legal-ease and it seemed to put an end to the fighting. (Either that or they decided that they would rather deal with their differences than have Mom pretend she was a hot-shot lawyer or honorable judge. Whatever. It worked and peace reigned once again in our family--for about 47 minutes.)

Since I was on a roll, I attempted to ask my husband in a conversation about our weekend plans while he watched the news. Upon seeing the puzzled look on his face ("Huh? You talking to me?"), I withdrew my question and told him, "We'll take a short recess." I then waited for commercial break. As Hubby continued in his confused state and why I needed to talk about it "now", I simply retorted, "I'll re-phrase the question." Before Charles Gibson reappeared on the screen and after only a few, "I objects" from me, the two of us were able to firm up satisfactory plans in record time, making both parties happy.

So here is my closing statement: I have renewed respect for our justice system, but I have officially retired from practicing law. Five days was enough. My family, as you may guess, unanimously supports this decision.