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.

Where Are You Going on Vacation?

Milton Berle said, "Laughter is an instant vacation." I was pondering those words this week while fantasizing about a little R & R. It has been a while since I have hopped on a plane or taken a road trip and journeyed to a new destination. I was reminiscing about an experience I had as a teenager when I flew to Orlando with a girlfriend right after we graduated from high school. I remember spending time lounging by the pool at the hotel while thumbing through fashion magazines and sipping my favorite drink: 7-Up (not Sprite, not Sierra Mist), with crushed (not cubed) ice, mixed with the juice (fresh, not concentrated) of half a lime. Ahhh. That vacation, a gazillion years ago, was completely relaxing, but I'm sure I didn't entirely appreciate the luxury of it. Little did I know then that in the future I would marry and have four kids. Vacations with the fam are still memorable, but now often for a completely different reason.

I will never forget, for instance, the vacation we took with the kids to Calistoga outside of Napa. We packed up a carload of "necessities" and headed for the great outdoors--during a heatwave. It wasn't until after the tent was pitched, the sleeping bags were arranged and the picnic table was ready that we realized we had set up camp practically on top of a hornet's nest. Hornets, as it turns out, love baby formula and terrorizing overheated mothers and their young.

Then there was Paris. Ah, Paris. It's lovely in the Springtime. Our whole family was thrilled to be strolling down the Champs d'Elysee. That is until our oldest son opened his mouth and we noticed he was missing something. Moments later we were digging through various trashcans along the street in search of his retainer. Amazingly enough, French garbage, is just as smelly and gross as American garbage. Ooh, la, la.

As a family we learned to hold our breath (and some of us closed our eyes) as we drove through Switzerland in the dead of winter and the clutch went out in our van. "We just lost second gear," my husband announced. "There goes first..." Stopping and starting with traffic in the heart of Zurich with only third and fourth gear made for a memorable trip; one that still makes my armpits perspire. May I breathe now?

And on it goes. There have been leaky poopy diapers on airplanes, hours of frustration as we've driven around (and around) completely lost and in need of directions--in English, and brawling boys in the back seat. In Twin Falls, Idaho we were scolded by the front desk because the kids had "heavy feet" and bothered the guests below us. We have put gasoline in a tank that can only take diesel. And on more than one occasion we have spilled fast food (and drink) in an already filthy, sticky car.

Thinking back on such moments, however, truly does make me smile. I think I'll bring up these memories at dinner tonight and together as a family we can have a good laugh. While we eat our leftover beans and spanish rice we'll enjoy one of those "instant vacations" Milton Berle talked about. Laughter is cheap, but effective R & R.

It Makes a Mother Proud

One morning, while my youngest was shoveling cereal in his mouth, I overheard him talking to himself. This is nothing new--he has a lot to say and sometimes he's his own best listener. But on this particular morning my ears perked up. I recognized what he was uttering and my heart beat with pride. He struggled at first, but as he played around with the words, he finally got it right: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without," he said with his mouth full of Cheerios. I asked him how he knew that saying. "I've heard YOU say it a thousand times," he replied. It's true. That practical American proverb is one of my favorites and it has served me well. Those words ring in my ear, for example, when I think I need to buy a new outfit, ("Make it do, or do without," I tell myself as I first "shop" from my own closet, taking old clothes I have on hand and coordinating them in new ways), or I'm about to run to the store for dinner ingredients and decide to creatively disguise the leftovers, ("Use it up"), and serve them instead.

I hope my boy holds on to those wise words and learns to put them into practice as he experiences life. Today, I am even more purposeful about expressing wise sayings of the past that will serve all of my kids well, now and into the future. When my youngest finished his breakfast on that momentous morning, I handed him his daily chore list, passing on another one of my favorite sayings: "Many hands make light work."