Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability. ~Sam Keen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZ7m_IBX-Yo (Alice Cooper School's Out for Summer)
6:30 a.m. Ah the sounds of peaceful children getting ready for school....
Maggie! Luke! Get up! Maggie drink your coffee and wake up already! Luke, no TV! Who's getting in the shower? Take the dog out! Why are you doing homework now? No, I don't know where your tights are. Get in the shower! Maverick wake up! Luke get the dog she's going nuts, the bunny must be out! Why do you need $5? What do you mean you lost your lunch money? Quit buying Red Bull with it! Starve! No, I don't know where a shoe box is! Get in the shower and actually step closer to the soap! Someone get the dog in, the cops are here again! Maggie, brush your hair, don't just put it in the pony tail! Who's burning the waffles? Why do you need me to sign this detention slip? Where is your homework! Luke, turn the hockey down! Maggie, eat some breakfast! Maverick get out of bed or I'm not driving you! Get the dog, she's eating your waffles! No, you can't wear flip flops again. What do you mean you need your yellow shirt clean today? The bus comes in 10 minutes, where is it? Did you look under the bed? Who has all the towels? Maggie go up to your towel farm again and harvest a load! Brush your teeth, gum does not count! Stop dripping syrup by the computer, eat in the kitchen! Maverick get out of bed or I'm coming in there with the soap and water. Get out of my sock drawer, find your own socks!Are you ready, the bus is on Ferndale! What do you mean you need to be driven today, I haven't showered yet! Maverick are you ready? What do you mean you still need to shave? No, I don't know where the shaving cream is, ask you sister! Get the dog in already! Luke did you eat? Who left the empty cereal box on the counter again, it doesn't throw itself out. No, you can't eat candy for breakfast! Maverick get in the car already. Where's you belt, a shoelace does not count! Pull your pants over that underwear or I'll pull them down. Get the dog out of the window before she breaks another one. Luke, get you homework. Maggie, are these your books? Maverick, where's your backpack? Get the dog and lock her up. No, I don't have $10. You need something signed, where's a pen? Who took the pencil sharpener? Brush your teeth, I mean it. Stop hitting your sister and go out for the bus already! Get the dog! Maverick get in the car!
By this time next week, the sounds of silence and the large smiles of Moms everywhere will fill the air. Can you hear me now? No, we can't!! Yeah!!!
Ah, me time, from 630 to 730, gotta love it. It's not the beach we love, it's this. Summer at last, yippee!!
Monday, June 23, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Muffin Tops
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
Part of the secret of life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside --Mark Twain
Chocolate chip cookie dough. Raw. Extra chips. Good stuff. We always have to make a double batch, half to bake, half to eat. I know, I know, safety should prevent me from eating that. Aren't we all aware that salmonella lurks in raw eggs and we must not eat raw cookie dough anymore? So we stick the bowl in the freezer, make the germs work a little harder to make us sick. After all, there is no such thing as a free lunch. If salmonella wants to attack, then it needs to overcome the obstacle of being frozen. Nothing easy, it must work and strive and adapt like everyone else.
Maggie made cookies the last couple of days. Baked half up for school then forgot them. When Luke asked what was for dinner, I said chocolate chips cookies. And beer. Well, no beer for you, milk. A Mom must have standards. "Cookies?"he said, "you'd need to eat like 16 for dinner."
So, what's your point? I think the 4 food groups are covered, sugar, fat, caffeine and chocolate. Close enough, dig in.
Summer leads to strange meals like chocolate chip cookies. I had no excuse, it wasn't even sweltering heat in Buffalo yesterday, just Friday afternoon and no desire to cook. Called my favorite pizzeria. Closed. Closed, how dare they take a vacation? Don't they know I need grease and I need it now? My arteries were starting to clear up, the blood was flowing easier, we can't have this, the cholesterol count must be maintained at all costs. Who cares what I look like? My clothes fit, I can eat what I want. Life is good.
Well, that was all fine yesterday. Overnight the fat molecules ganged up on me and reproduced. Today I tried on my favorite summer jean shorts. Let's just say that zipping them was a chore. That zipper must be hippo strength to hold it all in. I pushed, I poked, I prodded, I jabbed. I fell down to the floor, sucked in my breath and performed master surgery. I tucked and pushed like I was moving a ton of bricks off my suffocating child, and I finally got the belly in and the zipper up. Yeah! I'm still good. I pause to catch my breath, I turn to the mirror. Muffin tops. There I am, all neatly sucked into the shorts, but the belly has escaped over the top. Huge rolls of fat lay like buckets of lard fighting to escape from the jeans.
Muffin tops. Cookies always go to the muffin tops. Chocolate too. We may as well open a fat pocket there and deposit it in. Smear it on there all melted and see how good it looks. It never goes to the chest, no sirree, only the stomach. Heaven forbid we eat cookies and gain a bra size we want. That would be too easy, no, it has to go to the stomach.
You can eat 4 cookies and gain 5 pounds. My former boss claimed this was impossible, the calories just did not equal out. He would get out the statistical analysis and excel spread sheets to show me how wrong I was. But I know better. I know my body. It really does happen. Women's genetics just work this way, we just need the scientific study to prove it. We need to go on a revolution to study this. The theory is that opposites attract. So it 4 cookies can add 5 pounds overnight, there is another simple food that melts the 5 pounds overnight. We just need to find it.
I just hope its Lays potato chips and Bison French onion chip dip with a Merlot chaser. I think I'll go work on my research right now, muffin tops be damned.
Part of the secret of life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside --Mark Twain
Chocolate chip cookie dough. Raw. Extra chips. Good stuff. We always have to make a double batch, half to bake, half to eat. I know, I know, safety should prevent me from eating that. Aren't we all aware that salmonella lurks in raw eggs and we must not eat raw cookie dough anymore? So we stick the bowl in the freezer, make the germs work a little harder to make us sick. After all, there is no such thing as a free lunch. If salmonella wants to attack, then it needs to overcome the obstacle of being frozen. Nothing easy, it must work and strive and adapt like everyone else.
Maggie made cookies the last couple of days. Baked half up for school then forgot them. When Luke asked what was for dinner, I said chocolate chips cookies. And beer. Well, no beer for you, milk. A Mom must have standards. "Cookies?"he said, "you'd need to eat like 16 for dinner."
So, what's your point? I think the 4 food groups are covered, sugar, fat, caffeine and chocolate. Close enough, dig in.
Summer leads to strange meals like chocolate chip cookies. I had no excuse, it wasn't even sweltering heat in Buffalo yesterday, just Friday afternoon and no desire to cook. Called my favorite pizzeria. Closed. Closed, how dare they take a vacation? Don't they know I need grease and I need it now? My arteries were starting to clear up, the blood was flowing easier, we can't have this, the cholesterol count must be maintained at all costs. Who cares what I look like? My clothes fit, I can eat what I want. Life is good.
Well, that was all fine yesterday. Overnight the fat molecules ganged up on me and reproduced. Today I tried on my favorite summer jean shorts. Let's just say that zipping them was a chore. That zipper must be hippo strength to hold it all in. I pushed, I poked, I prodded, I jabbed. I fell down to the floor, sucked in my breath and performed master surgery. I tucked and pushed like I was moving a ton of bricks off my suffocating child, and I finally got the belly in and the zipper up. Yeah! I'm still good. I pause to catch my breath, I turn to the mirror. Muffin tops. There I am, all neatly sucked into the shorts, but the belly has escaped over the top. Huge rolls of fat lay like buckets of lard fighting to escape from the jeans.
Muffin tops. Cookies always go to the muffin tops. Chocolate too. We may as well open a fat pocket there and deposit it in. Smear it on there all melted and see how good it looks. It never goes to the chest, no sirree, only the stomach. Heaven forbid we eat cookies and gain a bra size we want. That would be too easy, no, it has to go to the stomach.
You can eat 4 cookies and gain 5 pounds. My former boss claimed this was impossible, the calories just did not equal out. He would get out the statistical analysis and excel spread sheets to show me how wrong I was. But I know better. I know my body. It really does happen. Women's genetics just work this way, we just need the scientific study to prove it. We need to go on a revolution to study this. The theory is that opposites attract. So it 4 cookies can add 5 pounds overnight, there is another simple food that melts the 5 pounds overnight. We just need to find it.
I just hope its Lays potato chips and Bison French onion chip dip with a Merlot chaser. I think I'll go work on my research right now, muffin tops be damned.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Happy Birthday
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. - Lucille ball
Today is my gym friend Nurse Sunshine's Birthday. There we were at 5 a.m. doing the treadmill together. I hadn't worked out in 2 weeks due to the sore back, and she really didn't want to get out of bed and go, but did anyway. Talking just made the workout more fun, less mundane. Somehow, the connection between people makes it all worth it on the days our bodies just want to lay in bed and do nothing...for the 5 minutes or so we have before the kids get up.
Nurse Sunshine gives herself the most wonderful birthday present. She wants to spend time with the hubby...aw how romantic, right? Yes, she wants him to spend time with her, doing whatever she wants. There I was, imagining him cooking her a gourmet meal, pouring her a glass of wine, massaging her feet while drawing her a bubble bath, all with the kids at grandmas...but Nurse Sunshine's ideas were even better, more wild, more fun. She spends time with her hubby on her days--Mother's day, birthdays, doing whatever project she most wants completed. It could be mulching the gardens, it could be cleaning and scrubbing the patio. The kids join in too. It becomes family time, with everyone helping out. They get one big thing done that she really likes to look at, to accomplish. What a great idea!
Birthdays really become our days, but how often do we do what we like most? We no longer have the hot dog birthday parties in the backyard like CK had as a child on California Road. Every year, her Mom let her have a group of 15 kids in the backyard for her own party. Both of her grandma's would be there and we would eat lots of ice cream. I so loved walking down the road to her party. It was like it became my own to get to go every year and share it. As CK's sons had birthdays, she continues the tradition of having the special day. Of getting to pick the food, and the event and the theme. Your day, your way.
Sometimes we look at birthdays as times of grief, especially on the "0" birthdays. Its hard to look past the numbers and see the accomplishments. The love, the unions and marriages, the kids, the wonderful jobs, the joyful friendships, the bloom of life no matter what the age. Why do we try to boil all that down to a number, as if that is all that matters? How can we be even begin to condense our souls to that one thing?
I like the idea of making the birthday your day. As woman, we don't do that enough. We really should take one day a month and call it our own, and do what we love, and get things accomplished we want. Feel good for us. Because when we do that, we can give it back to the world tenfold.
Make today and everyday your birthday. You deserve it.
The secret of staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age. - Lucille ball
Today is my gym friend Nurse Sunshine's Birthday. There we were at 5 a.m. doing the treadmill together. I hadn't worked out in 2 weeks due to the sore back, and she really didn't want to get out of bed and go, but did anyway. Talking just made the workout more fun, less mundane. Somehow, the connection between people makes it all worth it on the days our bodies just want to lay in bed and do nothing...for the 5 minutes or so we have before the kids get up.
Nurse Sunshine gives herself the most wonderful birthday present. She wants to spend time with the hubby...aw how romantic, right? Yes, she wants him to spend time with her, doing whatever she wants. There I was, imagining him cooking her a gourmet meal, pouring her a glass of wine, massaging her feet while drawing her a bubble bath, all with the kids at grandmas...but Nurse Sunshine's ideas were even better, more wild, more fun. She spends time with her hubby on her days--Mother's day, birthdays, doing whatever project she most wants completed. It could be mulching the gardens, it could be cleaning and scrubbing the patio. The kids join in too. It becomes family time, with everyone helping out. They get one big thing done that she really likes to look at, to accomplish. What a great idea!
Birthdays really become our days, but how often do we do what we like most? We no longer have the hot dog birthday parties in the backyard like CK had as a child on California Road. Every year, her Mom let her have a group of 15 kids in the backyard for her own party. Both of her grandma's would be there and we would eat lots of ice cream. I so loved walking down the road to her party. It was like it became my own to get to go every year and share it. As CK's sons had birthdays, she continues the tradition of having the special day. Of getting to pick the food, and the event and the theme. Your day, your way.
Sometimes we look at birthdays as times of grief, especially on the "0" birthdays. Its hard to look past the numbers and see the accomplishments. The love, the unions and marriages, the kids, the wonderful jobs, the joyful friendships, the bloom of life no matter what the age. Why do we try to boil all that down to a number, as if that is all that matters? How can we be even begin to condense our souls to that one thing?
I like the idea of making the birthday your day. As woman, we don't do that enough. We really should take one day a month and call it our own, and do what we love, and get things accomplished we want. Feel good for us. Because when we do that, we can give it back to the world tenfold.
Make today and everyday your birthday. You deserve it.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Prayer Garden
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
"Four things for success: work and pray, think and believe"--Norman Vincent Peale
I came across an interesting column in Guideposts June magazine, The Inspired Home by Kelee Katillac. (http://www.guidepostsmag.com/personal-change/positive-people-archive/?i=2240). Kelee likes to take things around the house and look for new uses in any hand-me-down item. This month she had talked about her small garden she put in that she likes to sit and drink lemonade by. She used old paint sticks as stakes for her herbs and tomatoes and such, and decorated them with names of friends she is praying for. So instead of referring to how her tomatoes are doing, she calls them now by the friends names. "Last summer Roy--the Big Boy Tomato-had a real touch-and-go start, at the same time her friends Roy was struggling. She took pretty old plates from thrift shops, and used those as edges for the small garden.
I loved the idea, and decided to put in a small garden myself, in the corner of my yard. Me, another garden? Hard to imagine, since I mainly sponsor weeds for my plants each summer. Nope, I actually went to the flea market yesterday, and picked up quite a few plates at various stands. I already had some herbs to try planting, and added some more. Along the way I noticed a tiny little chair. I decided to paint this and put in near the garden, so the angels have a place to rest while they are praying along with me. I asked the twins what color I should paint the chair, and they told me "Gold and White of course Mom, for the angels."
Today I actually turned over the ground, even though my back is killing me today. I haven't thrown my back out in over 8 years, but here it is again. I decided if I was going to be in pain, there should be a reason for it, it should be big and I should go all the way. So I did. I am sure my chiropractor will love me when I go get adjusted.
I decided to call the garden the prayer garden. It seems its not only me that is having a hard time this year. Lots of illness and deaths among my friends parents. I guess it's just our age, but we all seem to need extra help. Every day someone else is calling with bad news, or maybe good news. Maybe we just have to focus on our loved ones going to their eternal reward and forget about our grief. Maybe we all just need to laugh along with them and picture the voyage as a happy one.
DH's Aunt passed away last week. A very quick spreading cancer took her from us. And as she spoke on her last days, going into hospice, she mentioned to her daughter that she saw her deceased siblings, and Mom and in laws. They all said, come on along, its fine over here. What a nice thought from someone that really wasn't keen on organized religion. To picture here at peace is the best thing.
As I build the prayer garden, I will be adding my own prayers for a new beginning, a new career, and maybe less weeds then usual. I am looking for the old fashioned aluminum rocking chairs to set by the garden and take a load off, and maybe some more flowers to add to the weed collections. With each plant, I will name them and prayer for my sick relatives, out of work friends, and disenfranchised middle-agers. As the plants bloom, I hope so will they, in God's love and peace.
And who knows, maybe the weeds will give me a break this year....NOT.
"Four things for success: work and pray, think and believe"--Norman Vincent Peale
I came across an interesting column in Guideposts June magazine, The Inspired Home by Kelee Katillac. (http://www.guidepostsmag.com/personal-change/positive-people-archive/?i=2240). Kelee likes to take things around the house and look for new uses in any hand-me-down item. This month she had talked about her small garden she put in that she likes to sit and drink lemonade by. She used old paint sticks as stakes for her herbs and tomatoes and such, and decorated them with names of friends she is praying for. So instead of referring to how her tomatoes are doing, she calls them now by the friends names. "Last summer Roy--the Big Boy Tomato-had a real touch-and-go start, at the same time her friends Roy was struggling. She took pretty old plates from thrift shops, and used those as edges for the small garden.
I loved the idea, and decided to put in a small garden myself, in the corner of my yard. Me, another garden? Hard to imagine, since I mainly sponsor weeds for my plants each summer. Nope, I actually went to the flea market yesterday, and picked up quite a few plates at various stands. I already had some herbs to try planting, and added some more. Along the way I noticed a tiny little chair. I decided to paint this and put in near the garden, so the angels have a place to rest while they are praying along with me. I asked the twins what color I should paint the chair, and they told me "Gold and White of course Mom, for the angels."
Today I actually turned over the ground, even though my back is killing me today. I haven't thrown my back out in over 8 years, but here it is again. I decided if I was going to be in pain, there should be a reason for it, it should be big and I should go all the way. So I did. I am sure my chiropractor will love me when I go get adjusted.
I decided to call the garden the prayer garden. It seems its not only me that is having a hard time this year. Lots of illness and deaths among my friends parents. I guess it's just our age, but we all seem to need extra help. Every day someone else is calling with bad news, or maybe good news. Maybe we just have to focus on our loved ones going to their eternal reward and forget about our grief. Maybe we all just need to laugh along with them and picture the voyage as a happy one.
DH's Aunt passed away last week. A very quick spreading cancer took her from us. And as she spoke on her last days, going into hospice, she mentioned to her daughter that she saw her deceased siblings, and Mom and in laws. They all said, come on along, its fine over here. What a nice thought from someone that really wasn't keen on organized religion. To picture here at peace is the best thing.
As I build the prayer garden, I will be adding my own prayers for a new beginning, a new career, and maybe less weeds then usual. I am looking for the old fashioned aluminum rocking chairs to set by the garden and take a load off, and maybe some more flowers to add to the weed collections. With each plant, I will name them and prayer for my sick relatives, out of work friends, and disenfranchised middle-agers. As the plants bloom, I hope so will they, in God's love and peace.
And who knows, maybe the weeds will give me a break this year....NOT.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Passion
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”--Oscar Wilde
What is your passion? What gets your mojo flowing? What fills your body and brain with lust and excitement? What makes you have to have it, do it, see it, need it, read it, touch it?
I'm not talking Clintonesque passion for Monica that left stains on the blue dress. Or Spitzer lust for escorts that toppled the governorship and led late-night top ten lists. And not the desire to be twenty-one, free and in search of love...for the hours between midnight and 6 .a.m. anyway. Certainly not the desire for a Beck's brewskie, Lay's potato chips and Bison French Onion--best in the world-Chip Dip (http://bisonfoods.com/.) Or not even the passion we feel for cheering on our kids, sitting 3 hours in the pouring rain for little league baseball, facing high winds and wind chills below zero in a Buffalo springtime.
Zen, zeal, bliss, joy, freedom to face a life that's yours, your captaincy, your course, your purpose. What's driving your ship? What are your core values that makes your days fly by?
Questions, lots of questions...are there any right answers? We would like to think it's only one thing, like I was born to be a nurse. Or I am a painter. I used to search endlessly for my "one thing" like in the movie City Slickers. I would read the help wanted section of the newspaper and scan the Internet web sites, trying to box myself into one job category. After all, they tell you to read the job descriptions and put the words the headhunters are using in your resume. This way when your are scanned electronically (oh baby, it's feels so good, do it again) that you are picked as the one.
It all comes down to the magic words. "Amazing, funny, talented, creative Mom desires position that encompasses her stellar skills that enable her to get each twin to the right ball park at the right time in the correct uniform (excluding the times the socks disappear, preferring to spend their time in an orgy with the knee-his and boxer shorts) while simultaneously paying bills on-line, getting the barfing dog to the vet and derailing the Skateboarding eldest on his pursuit of demolishing my house and himself. " Somehow the job descriptions don't match my true talents.
Passion, I have decided, is what really needs to drive your life, your career, your Momdome, your fatherhood, your sphere of reality and your corner of the universe. Pursuit of knowledge. Quest for newness. Curiosity. It's the joy that fills your days because it feel right. It's your thing and your path, whatever it may be. It's what leads you load 5 kids in the car and drive 3 hours to see the Rock and Roll hall of fame, even when your parents tell you "Well, you shouldn't be doing that. You are unemployed." And it's what causes you to call your best friend at 5:45 A.M. in the morning and say, "I'll meet you for happy hour tonight. Have my wine ready." and then drive 550 miles to meet her in Richmond, Virginia, with only an email and no maps to guide you. And it's what causes you to know you will be all right because you are finally on your path. Your zen. Your thing.
I like to write. I don't know what that means, but I will keep doing it. And find my way with it, whatever that may lead, and wherever it takes me, and with the people who guide me along the way. And I will read books. And take spinning class. And dance out loud to pretty music at 10 a.m. or sing along with joy because I love the Iris Video from Goo Goo Dolls (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsK90GWBVLY).
Passion, what does it mean? It's simply what makes you you. Whatever makes you feel at home and at peace, is what you should do. We all know the way, but sometimes, our other adult choices get in the way, like the home we own or the place where we live. We think we can't, but that's the problem in itself.
We need to be like the little engine that could, "I think I can. I think I can."
Say Yes. If you haven't read the book, "The Yes Man," a bibliography by Danny Wallace, Get it. It's so funny. And true. The movie comes out in December. And it's really what we need to remember. Follow your passion. Say yes.
"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.”--Oscar Wilde
What is your passion? What gets your mojo flowing? What fills your body and brain with lust and excitement? What makes you have to have it, do it, see it, need it, read it, touch it?
I'm not talking Clintonesque passion for Monica that left stains on the blue dress. Or Spitzer lust for escorts that toppled the governorship and led late-night top ten lists. And not the desire to be twenty-one, free and in search of love...for the hours between midnight and 6 .a.m. anyway. Certainly not the desire for a Beck's brewskie, Lay's potato chips and Bison French Onion--best in the world-Chip Dip (http://bisonfoods.com/.) Or not even the passion we feel for cheering on our kids, sitting 3 hours in the pouring rain for little league baseball, facing high winds and wind chills below zero in a Buffalo springtime.
Zen, zeal, bliss, joy, freedom to face a life that's yours, your captaincy, your course, your purpose. What's driving your ship? What are your core values that makes your days fly by?
Questions, lots of questions...are there any right answers? We would like to think it's only one thing, like I was born to be a nurse. Or I am a painter. I used to search endlessly for my "one thing" like in the movie City Slickers. I would read the help wanted section of the newspaper and scan the Internet web sites, trying to box myself into one job category. After all, they tell you to read the job descriptions and put the words the headhunters are using in your resume. This way when your are scanned electronically (oh baby, it's feels so good, do it again) that you are picked as the one.
It all comes down to the magic words. "Amazing, funny, talented, creative Mom desires position that encompasses her stellar skills that enable her to get each twin to the right ball park at the right time in the correct uniform (excluding the times the socks disappear, preferring to spend their time in an orgy with the knee-his and boxer shorts) while simultaneously paying bills on-line, getting the barfing dog to the vet and derailing the Skateboarding eldest on his pursuit of demolishing my house and himself. " Somehow the job descriptions don't match my true talents.
Passion, I have decided, is what really needs to drive your life, your career, your Momdome, your fatherhood, your sphere of reality and your corner of the universe. Pursuit of knowledge. Quest for newness. Curiosity. It's the joy that fills your days because it feel right. It's your thing and your path, whatever it may be. It's what leads you load 5 kids in the car and drive 3 hours to see the Rock and Roll hall of fame, even when your parents tell you "Well, you shouldn't be doing that. You are unemployed." And it's what causes you to call your best friend at 5:45 A.M. in the morning and say, "I'll meet you for happy hour tonight. Have my wine ready." and then drive 550 miles to meet her in Richmond, Virginia, with only an email and no maps to guide you. And it's what causes you to know you will be all right because you are finally on your path. Your zen. Your thing.
I like to write. I don't know what that means, but I will keep doing it. And find my way with it, whatever that may lead, and wherever it takes me, and with the people who guide me along the way. And I will read books. And take spinning class. And dance out loud to pretty music at 10 a.m. or sing along with joy because I love the Iris Video from Goo Goo Dolls (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsK90GWBVLY).
Passion, what does it mean? It's simply what makes you you. Whatever makes you feel at home and at peace, is what you should do. We all know the way, but sometimes, our other adult choices get in the way, like the home we own or the place where we live. We think we can't, but that's the problem in itself.
We need to be like the little engine that could, "I think I can. I think I can."
Say Yes. If you haven't read the book, "The Yes Man," a bibliography by Danny Wallace, Get it. It's so funny. And true. The movie comes out in December. And it's really what we need to remember. Follow your passion. Say yes.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Evil Bunny
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
I saved the bay window again. It's only the 1000Th time I've had to save it since moving in. A few times I missed. I still have one broken pane from last fall when a tiny little dachshund walked by and Molly went crazy, jumping and barking like the little princess was getting her last bit of food. One foxhound mutt meets a 5 pane bay window, and sometimes we lose.
Tonight, it was the evil bunny. Molly has a piece of yard that is hers. Sometimes the bunnies come right there and poop, just to torment her. Then when she next comes out, she goes nutso. You'd think someone was robbing us. Sometimes they frolic just outside the limit of her tether. They love to see her go berserk, and they gently chew away, grazing on our too long grass. Tonight, the bunny was bold. She moved just a few feet from the window where Molly sits in my great-granddad's horsehair chair. She was gulping on the dandelions that Maverick still had not mowed down. I came over and calmed Molly down, looking to see who was walking by and driving her crazy. No little doxie, just a bunny.
I never watched a bunny eat anything but grass. I have a yard full of lovely white flyaway dandelions. She would calmly sniff a few dandelions, taste the tops of some, and when she finally found one she liked, she would bit it from the bottom and suck it in like a child eats spaghetti, stopping at the flower top. There she would sit, with the flower sticking out of her mouth, chewing away, then suddenly, Plop! the top would get sucked in also.
It was funny to sit and hold Molly still and calmly watch the bunny eat. It made me think of all that window has been through. It's a lovely oak window from the 1960's. When we moved in, it was solid white, and the seat of the window had brown linoleum tiles glued on it. I have fond memories of weeks spent stripping it down during Maverick's nap time, while listening to the OJ trial. And I even remember watching our lady mail carrier walk-by while they announced the verdict, and running out to tell her.
We just finished the window and remodeled the living room when Maverick threw the remote at it and broke a pane. I immediately signed him up for baseball even though he was only 18 moths old!
Next abuse of the window was when the twins were wee babies. 2 a.m. feeding time. I went upstairs and picked them both up from their cribs, came down,got the bottles from the stove and went to the living room to sit in the lazy boy by the bay window to rock them. I would sit with one on each leg, on a pillow, heads propped up with a bottle in each mouth. So I was grabbing pillows, holding babies and bottles. and bending to sit in the chair, all while half asleep. I didn't aim right, and hit the back of the chair while pushing back, not down. Next thing I know, I hit the chair, it flips completely over with me and babies and bottles, snapping up and getting stuck on the window ledge. I'm afraid to try and get out, so I spent 10 minutes trying to wake sleeping DH by screaming my head off. He comes running finally, hitting lights as he goes to see where I am--and 2 lights in a row blow out as he flips the switch. Man, what a night!
Maggie and Luke took out a window while practicing baseball. I was just heading to the door to tell them to turn the other way in the yard, when Luke threw a hard ball and Maggie ducked, letting the ball sail right into the living room. We barely got the window fixed, when the October surprise hit, knocking out 2 more windows. We fixed those and Molly took out another one. Fixed that, and then she cracked another one. I was just saying it's time to fix that one, and here comes the bunny.
And as I sit quietly telling you about the window's adventures, when the little neighbor children come over to get the twins to play. Molly goes nuts, I get up from writing this to grab her again, and you guessed it. She pounced right through as if it was empty and leaped right on the little kindergarten girl.
Maybe I need stock in a glass company.
I saved the bay window again. It's only the 1000Th time I've had to save it since moving in. A few times I missed. I still have one broken pane from last fall when a tiny little dachshund walked by and Molly went crazy, jumping and barking like the little princess was getting her last bit of food. One foxhound mutt meets a 5 pane bay window, and sometimes we lose.
Tonight, it was the evil bunny. Molly has a piece of yard that is hers. Sometimes the bunnies come right there and poop, just to torment her. Then when she next comes out, she goes nutso. You'd think someone was robbing us. Sometimes they frolic just outside the limit of her tether. They love to see her go berserk, and they gently chew away, grazing on our too long grass. Tonight, the bunny was bold. She moved just a few feet from the window where Molly sits in my great-granddad's horsehair chair. She was gulping on the dandelions that Maverick still had not mowed down. I came over and calmed Molly down, looking to see who was walking by and driving her crazy. No little doxie, just a bunny.
I never watched a bunny eat anything but grass. I have a yard full of lovely white flyaway dandelions. She would calmly sniff a few dandelions, taste the tops of some, and when she finally found one she liked, she would bit it from the bottom and suck it in like a child eats spaghetti, stopping at the flower top. There she would sit, with the flower sticking out of her mouth, chewing away, then suddenly, Plop! the top would get sucked in also.
It was funny to sit and hold Molly still and calmly watch the bunny eat. It made me think of all that window has been through. It's a lovely oak window from the 1960's. When we moved in, it was solid white, and the seat of the window had brown linoleum tiles glued on it. I have fond memories of weeks spent stripping it down during Maverick's nap time, while listening to the OJ trial. And I even remember watching our lady mail carrier walk-by while they announced the verdict, and running out to tell her.
We just finished the window and remodeled the living room when Maverick threw the remote at it and broke a pane. I immediately signed him up for baseball even though he was only 18 moths old!
Next abuse of the window was when the twins were wee babies. 2 a.m. feeding time. I went upstairs and picked them both up from their cribs, came down,got the bottles from the stove and went to the living room to sit in the lazy boy by the bay window to rock them. I would sit with one on each leg, on a pillow, heads propped up with a bottle in each mouth. So I was grabbing pillows, holding babies and bottles. and bending to sit in the chair, all while half asleep. I didn't aim right, and hit the back of the chair while pushing back, not down. Next thing I know, I hit the chair, it flips completely over with me and babies and bottles, snapping up and getting stuck on the window ledge. I'm afraid to try and get out, so I spent 10 minutes trying to wake sleeping DH by screaming my head off. He comes running finally, hitting lights as he goes to see where I am--and 2 lights in a row blow out as he flips the switch. Man, what a night!
Maggie and Luke took out a window while practicing baseball. I was just heading to the door to tell them to turn the other way in the yard, when Luke threw a hard ball and Maggie ducked, letting the ball sail right into the living room. We barely got the window fixed, when the October surprise hit, knocking out 2 more windows. We fixed those and Molly took out another one. Fixed that, and then she cracked another one. I was just saying it's time to fix that one, and here comes the bunny.
And as I sit quietly telling you about the window's adventures, when the little neighbor children come over to get the twins to play. Molly goes nuts, I get up from writing this to grab her again, and you guessed it. She pounced right through as if it was empty and leaped right on the little kindergarten girl.
Maybe I need stock in a glass company.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
The Job Fair
Life Balance: a feat we try to achieve while searching to be the best that we can we, while simultaneously raising our children to do the same. This is the equilibrium in our inner life force whereby our heartbeat matches the divine force that exists all around us. When this life balance peaks, our sense of peace, joy, love and wisdom acts as one with our very soul.
If a man is called to be a street sweeper,he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted,or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry.He should sweep streets so well that the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."- Martin Luther King -
Heading to a job fair today. Lots of opportunities to hear about jobs that are available. Uplifting to think of all the possibilities at every company represented there. Challenging to make yourself heard in a chorus of thousands of lost souls looking for their next great job, the next team they want to run passes for, the next symphony for their music to play in.
Mass market hiring can be fun and interesting. When Maggie and Luke heard I was going to a job fair, their faces lit up. Will there be rides? Sure, a Ferris wheel soars you to new heights as you search for the next job. And a roller coaster bounces you up and down, twisting your stomach and shaking up your brain cells as you wait in line to speak to recruiters. And the tilt-a-whirl throws you around and beats you senseless when you whine "no one will hire me." And there is a dunk tank you throws balls at, yelling, "I am NOT unqualified! My skills do meet your needs! I am a good fit!" And they sell grown up job searching candy called "Tums", "Ibuprofen" and "Wine."
No, really Mom, are there rides at the job fairs? Or maybe do they sell crafts and toys too? Or how about cotton candy? No, just selling hope, faith and inspiration. A new job, a new beginning. It's like opening day for baseball. You just never know if this might be your year.
What team uniform will I be wearing? I'm open to all possibilities. Well, maybe not the brown and orange polyester uniform I wore in high school and college while working at Bells supermarkets. That one, I think should be retired. 5 years as a cashier is enough for anyone. We used to spend our nights joking about letting the customers check themselves out....
If we only knew.
Inspiration comes to us all the time. We just need to stop and listen. And believe in ourselves, and our passions, and go with the team that fills that bliss.
Maybe I'll find mine today.
If a man is called to be a street sweeper,he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted,or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry.He should sweep streets so well that the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."- Martin Luther King -
Heading to a job fair today. Lots of opportunities to hear about jobs that are available. Uplifting to think of all the possibilities at every company represented there. Challenging to make yourself heard in a chorus of thousands of lost souls looking for their next great job, the next team they want to run passes for, the next symphony for their music to play in.
Mass market hiring can be fun and interesting. When Maggie and Luke heard I was going to a job fair, their faces lit up. Will there be rides? Sure, a Ferris wheel soars you to new heights as you search for the next job. And a roller coaster bounces you up and down, twisting your stomach and shaking up your brain cells as you wait in line to speak to recruiters. And the tilt-a-whirl throws you around and beats you senseless when you whine "no one will hire me." And there is a dunk tank you throws balls at, yelling, "I am NOT unqualified! My skills do meet your needs! I am a good fit!" And they sell grown up job searching candy called "Tums", "Ibuprofen" and "Wine."
No, really Mom, are there rides at the job fairs? Or maybe do they sell crafts and toys too? Or how about cotton candy? No, just selling hope, faith and inspiration. A new job, a new beginning. It's like opening day for baseball. You just never know if this might be your year.
What team uniform will I be wearing? I'm open to all possibilities. Well, maybe not the brown and orange polyester uniform I wore in high school and college while working at Bells supermarkets. That one, I think should be retired. 5 years as a cashier is enough for anyone. We used to spend our nights joking about letting the customers check themselves out....
If we only knew.
Inspiration comes to us all the time. We just need to stop and listen. And believe in ourselves, and our passions, and go with the team that fills that bliss.
Maybe I'll find mine today.
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