It's been a few weeks. I won't apologize, because first of all, no one reads this anyway, so there is no one to apologize to. Secondly, I am writing here for me. I like to write, this is kind of my journal, and I will write when I want to. So nyah. Third, I was busy with the rest of my life. I had vacation, we had family visiting and it has been CRAZY busy. Fourth, I am in school. I write a lot for the class. In fact, I write for all of the class since its online. And finally, there's no point to writing if one has nothing to say. And I didn't for a while. But now I do.
So...there's my family. Over the fourth of July I spent some time with my younger brother Rob and his family. They came to our house and hung out for a week. They are terrific. The visit was terrific. I enjoyed them thoroughly. We barbecued, we went to parades, took bike rides, had campfires and made s'mores. It was terrific. It was so nice to hang out with them. The other part of the visit I really enjoyed is that my niece and nephews are starting to get more comfortable with me. See, I'm not as cool as my younger brother. He does silly things with the kids. He makes them laugh. He sung them to sleep each night by singing them the "Pencil Neck Geek" song. It's a silly song he made up about how they are all pencil necked geeks and need to go to sleep now. He does all these funny E.T.-type moves and gets them laughing. It riles them up a bit, but it also helps them to feel a real bond with him. The kids all love him for this stuff and he can be a hard act to follow. I am just not that funny or cool. So sometimes I feel overshadowed by his charisma.
But having the kids around for the amount of time they were around helped them to get over being shy around me a little I think. I cooked meals for them, made sure they had clean clothes, provided places to swim, dig, bounce and run. I think they might have sensed that even though I am not the life of the party like Rob is, I love them too. Very much. My nephew Wesley lost a tooth while at the Fourth of July parade. I put it in a gold box for him to take home to his mother, and put it in his back pack. I put bandaids on his knees when he had a minor crash with his bike. I took he and his sister (my niece) to Canobie Lake park. I make them lunch, I take them on walks, and read them stories at night.
I hope that these things leave traces of my love on their hearts. I don't expect them to remember all these little things. In fact, it's fine if they don't remember any specifics. I just hope that all of these little things combined helps them to know that I truly love them. I hope that when and if they think of me they have fond thoughts and feelings.
My nephew Noah is so adorable. He just turned 3 in June and his language skills are growing by leaps and bounds. He is adventurous (make sure you know where he is at all times Gummy! ) and he has a terrific laugh.
Scotty, Noah's brother, loves his Mommy so much. He has to check in with her regularly. It is such a contrast to his all boy ways when he is running around the yard with his cousins. (I think of them as the Three Musketeers, as they do everything together whenever they spend time together). He can be running around the yard playing guns, or hunting, or making jumps for his cars and trucks, and then he will take a minute to go to his Mommy, first three fingers in his mouth, and ask for his blanky. He likes to rub the tag on his blanket. He has done this since he was a baby. It is so soothing to him. Jackie, his Mom, and I have talked frequently about how the fingers he sucks are the same ones she did as a kid. I wonder if thumb/finger sucking is genetic?
Wesley is my oldest brother's (Billy) boy. He is eight. He is lightning fast, quiet, and sweet. I have found it hard to get to know him because he talks so little around me. I think he is a bit intimidated by me for some reason. But I think he is loosening up some though. He loves to play Wii games. He loves bike riding. He loves anything physical.
Brianna, my niece, is Wesley's sister. She is six and so beautiful. She has thick curly black hair. She has this lovely skin and she wants so badly to be with the boys doing what they are doing. But, as I well remember being a sister, she is often excluded from the boys' games. But that's okay because she can hang out with us girls. She loves to swim, is a good painter, and loves to read about horses, ponies and princesses.
I'm sad. I love these kids so much but I'm not sure how often in the future I will get to see them. My brother and his wife divorced, and you know how that can go. I am trying to maintain a friendship with her, and I hope to keep contact, but sometimes these things can be difficult. This is so hard because I like Rachel. I don't fully understand what happened between her and Bill, my brother, but I feel its none of my business anyway. I hope that I can continue to have a relationship with her and the kids, but I am not good at managing conflict. I am hoping to stay away from issues surrounding why she and Bill are no longer married and stick to keeping in touch with her and the kids.
Only time will tell how this goes I guess.
So anyway, after a really fun week with my niece and nephews and my own family, its back to life as usual. I am in my second class of my graduate program, and I hope that I am developing some leadership skills. I feel completely overwhelmed with the work, but I am enjoying the class. I think I might have to reprioritize my life a little so I can continue on in this program however. The pace is just out-of-control. I think I need to focus a bit on time management skills. Just to be sure that I can complete everything. I got an A in my first class, Business Communications, so I am pleased. I also got a 97% on my first paper in my second class, so I am pleased with that. But I need to make sure that I keep a handle on things or they will get away from me.
And sleep. I need sleep on a regular basis or I will fall apart. I have already had one major illness. I need to be sure it doesn't happen again. I can't burn the candle at both ends forever. So I have to get more strict about a routine.
With that in mind, I think I need to go to bed now. I will write more soon, when I have something to say. Check in if you like. I will try to post something new every once in a while.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Can We Move Away from Lukewarm Please?
The school year is over. Phew! I am so glad to be shut of it. I know that those of you who know me will probably be surprised to hear that because my children are doing well in school, but believe me when I say this: I am glad to be done with this school year.
Why? You ask. I'll tell you why. I am glad to be done with this school year because I am tired of dealing with people who don't have my children's best interests at heart. This year has emphasized for me that people in general do only what is absolutely necessary to get by. My children are all very intelligent. I am not bragging when I say this. I am just stating a fact. They think about things in interesting ways. They continually surprise me by the complexity of thought that they are capable of on a regular basis. If you are connected with me through Facebook, you will see a good example of what I mean. My daughter wrote a poem for a class. It is amazing. And she writes stuff like this regularly.
And the school does nothing to encourage her writing ability. Her teacher this year was terrific. But she had a class of 28 to manage. She barely had enough time to handle the requirements of MCAS preparation, let alone focus any attention on a budding writer.
The teacher my son had this year for kindegarten does what she does. The kids tend to like her and benefit from her...my daughter loved her when she had her. But my son could take her or leave her. He did very well in school and brought home glowing reports. But when asked if he would miss her he said, "Nah. Not really." She did nothing memorable with the class, and I can't recall one single thing that Christopher came home bubbling about. Nothing.
So my children cruise through their educational experience unchallenged. They don't stretch themselves. They aren't challenged. They are learning how to conform, to not rock the boat, and to do what is expected of them.
I suppose I should be happy that they are getting A's on their report card. I should expand my chest with pride when reading the "Is a pleasure to have in class" comments. Part of me is glad to see those things for sure. Having friends whose children are really struggling with the world of academia makes me appreciate that I don't have those struggles. (Boy, did that sound snotty or what? Sorry.)But I am not completely happy. I'm not happy because my children can become background. Because they do not have a "problem," they can get passed over. Their talents may not get recognized, polished, or developed. I want them to develop what they have to the fullest potential.
So what do I do? How do I help them to develop the talents and skills that they have? I want them to enjoy being children. I don't want to load them down with extra "work," but I want them to challenge the things they take for granted as constants. I want them to ask why and what if. I want them to poke, stir, add to, change and create. I want them to play. I want them to inquire, investigate and hypothesize. So where do I turn?
My children are amazing, talented, creative, smart, funny, compassionate and kind people. I don't want those things to wither on the vine, unnourished. So where do I turn to feed these soul traits of theirs?
Why? You ask. I'll tell you why. I am glad to be done with this school year because I am tired of dealing with people who don't have my children's best interests at heart. This year has emphasized for me that people in general do only what is absolutely necessary to get by. My children are all very intelligent. I am not bragging when I say this. I am just stating a fact. They think about things in interesting ways. They continually surprise me by the complexity of thought that they are capable of on a regular basis. If you are connected with me through Facebook, you will see a good example of what I mean. My daughter wrote a poem for a class. It is amazing. And she writes stuff like this regularly.
And the school does nothing to encourage her writing ability. Her teacher this year was terrific. But she had a class of 28 to manage. She barely had enough time to handle the requirements of MCAS preparation, let alone focus any attention on a budding writer.
The teacher my son had this year for kindegarten does what she does. The kids tend to like her and benefit from her...my daughter loved her when she had her. But my son could take her or leave her. He did very well in school and brought home glowing reports. But when asked if he would miss her he said, "Nah. Not really." She did nothing memorable with the class, and I can't recall one single thing that Christopher came home bubbling about. Nothing.
So my children cruise through their educational experience unchallenged. They don't stretch themselves. They aren't challenged. They are learning how to conform, to not rock the boat, and to do what is expected of them.
I suppose I should be happy that they are getting A's on their report card. I should expand my chest with pride when reading the "Is a pleasure to have in class" comments. Part of me is glad to see those things for sure. Having friends whose children are really struggling with the world of academia makes me appreciate that I don't have those struggles. (Boy, did that sound snotty or what? Sorry.)But I am not completely happy. I'm not happy because my children can become background. Because they do not have a "problem," they can get passed over. Their talents may not get recognized, polished, or developed. I want them to develop what they have to the fullest potential.
So what do I do? How do I help them to develop the talents and skills that they have? I want them to enjoy being children. I don't want to load them down with extra "work," but I want them to challenge the things they take for granted as constants. I want them to ask why and what if. I want them to poke, stir, add to, change and create. I want them to play. I want them to inquire, investigate and hypothesize. So where do I turn?
My children are amazing, talented, creative, smart, funny, compassionate and kind people. I don't want those things to wither on the vine, unnourished. So where do I turn to feed these soul traits of theirs?
Friday, June 19, 2009
Parenthood...What a Rush
I love watching my children. I am so glad that I am a mother. We are on this crazy ride together and I don't know how to work the control panel, but I don't care. I get to ride with them. I am honored. I close my eyes tight from fear sometimes, but then other times I raise my hands and scream in excitement as we take the next turn and go down the hill.
So life has been exciting lately. It's one of those times where you raise your hands in the air and wave them and scream. My daughter's softball team was in the playoffs. She got to be a part of something really fun. They had their ups and downs, they played their hearts out, and in the end...they took second place. It was a thrilling ride.
Sure, there were parents who were living vicariously through their children. There were a few occasions where I felt I wanted to scream at some of the umpires for forgetting these girls were 9-11 year olds and not pro-level players. And there were times that I wondered if my daughter really wanted to play or if I was pushing this too hard. But in the end, it was a terrific experience for her to be part of a team effort. It was good for her to see that working together for a common goal can turn some real results that feel wonderful.
And you know what? I think she really had fun too. She learned about how to play the game, and I think she learned a little about herself. She learned what was for her and what was not for her. I think we'll sign her up again next year.
Learning about competition is a good thing as well. I mean, so long as she isn't learning to be cutthroat about it. The world is full of competition. She isn't going to get praised for just existing by anyone but her parents. She has to learn to put her best efforts forward. She has to work hard to earn what she gets, and Mickey Mousing it won't cut it. She also needs to learn to be part of a team. To cheer her teammates' efforts on, to pick them up when they are feeling low and to come together and create the positive energy one needs to succeed. She needs to learn to be a good sport too. To learn how to be graceful in the face of defeat. To acknowledge when someone is just better at something than she and that she needs to practice more. Those are important lessons for her to learn.
Christopher learned something this spring too. He learned that he can actually enjoy something we sign him up for. He is the "close your eyes tight and resist" type of guy when it comes to trying new things. He doesn't always understand that sometimes, even though you don't know what something will be like, it might be a good thing. He was so angry with us at the beginning of the spring for signing him up for soccer. He cried, threw tantrums, and refused to participate. But after his first day he discovered that he actually likes soccer. He made some friends, got to do some running (which he loves), and learned a little bit about how to play. So now, not only does he like soccer, but it is actually his favorite activity (yes he did say that).
My Daniel is learning things too. He is learning how to express himself appropriately. He is so affectionate and creative and imaginative. It's wonderful. But he has the soul of an artist I think. With that creativity comes a moodiness. He can go from one extreme to the other in the blink of an eye. Sometimes his emotions get a hold of him and like a tornado, they whip him into a frenzy. He screams, he yells, he stomps his feet and tells you that he doesn't want to see you ever again. But then the storm passes, and he is throwing his arms around you and telling you that he loves you a billion times infinity.
I am so proud of him lately. He is learning how to manage the intensity of his emotions very well. Despite his reluctance to do things that seem hard to him, he is coming along and learning to manage how he feels.
He is learning to follow directions as well. Instead of hiding when he is told to do something, he actually makes an attempt to do it. He may get distracted by other things, he may not complete the job, but he does try. Instead of stuffing his dirty clothes under the love seat, he puts them on the washing machine or near (if not in) his hamper.
Now if we can just get him to hold his hands in the air and scream in excitement, life will be good.
So life has been exciting lately. It's one of those times where you raise your hands in the air and wave them and scream. My daughter's softball team was in the playoffs. She got to be a part of something really fun. They had their ups and downs, they played their hearts out, and in the end...they took second place. It was a thrilling ride.
Sure, there were parents who were living vicariously through their children. There were a few occasions where I felt I wanted to scream at some of the umpires for forgetting these girls were 9-11 year olds and not pro-level players. And there were times that I wondered if my daughter really wanted to play or if I was pushing this too hard. But in the end, it was a terrific experience for her to be part of a team effort. It was good for her to see that working together for a common goal can turn some real results that feel wonderful.
And you know what? I think she really had fun too. She learned about how to play the game, and I think she learned a little about herself. She learned what was for her and what was not for her. I think we'll sign her up again next year.
Learning about competition is a good thing as well. I mean, so long as she isn't learning to be cutthroat about it. The world is full of competition. She isn't going to get praised for just existing by anyone but her parents. She has to learn to put her best efforts forward. She has to work hard to earn what she gets, and Mickey Mousing it won't cut it. She also needs to learn to be part of a team. To cheer her teammates' efforts on, to pick them up when they are feeling low and to come together and create the positive energy one needs to succeed. She needs to learn to be a good sport too. To learn how to be graceful in the face of defeat. To acknowledge when someone is just better at something than she and that she needs to practice more. Those are important lessons for her to learn.
Christopher learned something this spring too. He learned that he can actually enjoy something we sign him up for. He is the "close your eyes tight and resist" type of guy when it comes to trying new things. He doesn't always understand that sometimes, even though you don't know what something will be like, it might be a good thing. He was so angry with us at the beginning of the spring for signing him up for soccer. He cried, threw tantrums, and refused to participate. But after his first day he discovered that he actually likes soccer. He made some friends, got to do some running (which he loves), and learned a little bit about how to play. So now, not only does he like soccer, but it is actually his favorite activity (yes he did say that).
My Daniel is learning things too. He is learning how to express himself appropriately. He is so affectionate and creative and imaginative. It's wonderful. But he has the soul of an artist I think. With that creativity comes a moodiness. He can go from one extreme to the other in the blink of an eye. Sometimes his emotions get a hold of him and like a tornado, they whip him into a frenzy. He screams, he yells, he stomps his feet and tells you that he doesn't want to see you ever again. But then the storm passes, and he is throwing his arms around you and telling you that he loves you a billion times infinity.
I am so proud of him lately. He is learning how to manage the intensity of his emotions very well. Despite his reluctance to do things that seem hard to him, he is coming along and learning to manage how he feels.
He is learning to follow directions as well. Instead of hiding when he is told to do something, he actually makes an attempt to do it. He may get distracted by other things, he may not complete the job, but he does try. Instead of stuffing his dirty clothes under the love seat, he puts them on the washing machine or near (if not in) his hamper.
Now if we can just get him to hold his hands in the air and scream in excitement, life will be good.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Confessions of a Stow-Away Student
So I decided to go to grad school. It's something I have been wanting to do for the last 18 years, and I finally just jumped in and began. I was worried about the money. I was worried about finding the time to study. I was worried about having the ability to achieve academically at this level. I was (and am come to think of it) very worried. But I decided that I wouldn't let that fear keep me back. So I took the plunge.
I am attending Kaplan University Online. My first class is Business Communications. I really hope that I do well, but if my first graded assignment is any indication...I'm in for trouble. I spent HOURS fretting over this assignment. I worked and reworked it. Finally, I turned it in. It was a "Request for Funding" memo. I was clear, I was concise. I had no spelling errors. I had well-structured sentences. I was creative. But I never ACTUALLY asked for the funding. When my teacher pointed this out, I felt like such an onion head. How could I miss adding the main focus of the assignment?
So I am going to go sulk right now. I am doubting my abilities and I think I will console myself with ice cream. Rocky Road I think.
I am attending Kaplan University Online. My first class is Business Communications. I really hope that I do well, but if my first graded assignment is any indication...I'm in for trouble. I spent HOURS fretting over this assignment. I worked and reworked it. Finally, I turned it in. It was a "Request for Funding" memo. I was clear, I was concise. I had no spelling errors. I had well-structured sentences. I was creative. But I never ACTUALLY asked for the funding. When my teacher pointed this out, I felt like such an onion head. How could I miss adding the main focus of the assignment?
So I am going to go sulk right now. I am doubting my abilities and I think I will console myself with ice cream. Rocky Road I think.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Mother's Day ... Thoughts on Being a Mom
So here I am at work. It's just after 4 am and I am 3 hours from the end of my overnight shift. It's been pretty quiet here. A few calls here and there, but nothing really exciting. I've had some time to think. Maybe I will take this time to reflect a bit.
Lately, I have been thinking about what it means to be a mother. What I want for my children and what I should want for my children. I don't know if I have the answer to what being a good mom is, but I hope I can learn before my kids grow up and leave.
So what do I want for my children? What do I think is important? What do I want them to learn, to absorb, and to make a part of themselves? Hmmmmm. First, I want them to be happy, secure individuals. I want them to know that they are loveable. That they deserve love. That they matter. I don't want them to feel entitled, that's different. I don't want them to be demanding. But I want them to be confident. To rest assured that they have a place in the world. They belong. They are important. They matter. I want them to know that this belonging and mattering doesn't depend on their performance. If they screw up, they still belong. They are still loved.
I also want them to know that anything worth having is earned. The world is not their oyster. Or maybe it is if they are willing to be the one to swim to the bottom of the proverbial ocean to get the oyster themselves and pry out the pearl. I have been trying, since my children were very small, to teach them the value of hard work and earning their way. I think I have been going about it all wrong though, as their focus seems to be on money. They feel money is the enemy. Money is bad. I talk with my children frequently about money and how our home and the things they have and enjoy cost money. I don't try to drive it down their throats, but when they complain about not wanting their father or I to leave for work, I will often tell them that we need to go so that we can afford the things we need to live or the things that we want to enjoy.
But I think somehow I am causing them to miss the point. Money is ONLY a tool. It is neither good nor bad. It is useful to obtain the things we need and want. Period. But we shouldn't pursue it endlessly. I think I need to help them focus more on which things we should want to pursue. To my way of thinking, pursuing an understanding of God and those we love should be our main focus. When I refer to those we love, I include love and understanding of oneself. That is one of the most crucial people we need to love and understand. Without this love and understanding, often our perceptions of others become skewed. We have insecurities that cause us to filter out the wrong information when we are dealing with family and friends. If I can teach my children that they are loveable, worthy individuals who are capable of contributing to society in meaningful ways they will be open to learning from life.
So what is my job as a mother? I see my job as multifaceted. I think part of my job is to provide guidance. While I may make many decisions and apply certain rules to their behaviors, I think my overall function in this area is to guide my children. I will do my best to provide the tools they need to learn to make good decisions. Hopefully I will allow them the space to practice making decisions. Some of their decisions will be good ones. Some not so good. I pray I have the strength to let them stand on their own two feet whether those decisions are good or bad. And I pray that they feel they can come to me when their decisions turn out to not be so perfect. If they fall I don't want them to feel they cannot come to me and ask for help.
It's a tough balance. I have high expectations of my children. I expect them to try hard in every area of their lives. I refuse to let them say they can't do something. I don't expect them to be perfect at what they do, but I do expect them to try their very best at everything they try. I hope they experience this expectation as faith in their abilities and not intolerance. I do not want my children to grow up with the idea that everything is going to be handed to them. But I also don't want them to be afraid to fail.
My daughter is a straight A student. I am proud of her. She is in fourth grade and she always brings home glowing reports from school. More important to me than the grade letter however, is the section for the teacher's comments, where the teachers all say that she puts a lot of effort into her studies. She excels in many areas of her studies, but I am most proud of the fact that all her teachers say that she tries hard at everything she does. She told me the other day that she is disappointed with herself if she brings home anything lower than an A. If she gets an A- she is upset. I told her that if she is trying her hardest, it doesn't matter if it's an A or an A-...or even a C. I hope I am doing the right thing telling her this. I don't want her to think a C is okay if that isn't her best effort.
My son Christopher is a wonderful student too. My worry with him is that he is actually a little too hard on himself. He is learning to read. He is doing a great job according to what his teacher says and what I see. But when we read together, he gets so upset if he can't sound out a word. He hits himself in the head and will cry. I tried to tell him the other day that it was okay to make mistakes. He was in school because he doesn't know it all. That was the point of being in school. Everyone makes mistakes and that is okay. He responded with, "I make more mistakes than anyone though Mommy." How do I help my little guy? How do I guide him to make his best effort without creating unneccessary stress for him?
Then there is Daniel. Daniel is almost four, and he is a complicated mix of self-assurance and temper. Trying to motivate my little guy to follow directions and want to participate has been quite a challenge for me. My approval of him has nothing to do with getting him to do what you would like him to do. He can be the sweetest, kindest little boy or the most defiant, frustrating, oppositional individual. It all depends on how you handle him. I wish I could say that I always handled him correctly, but I don't. He does not like to be yelled at, that is for sure. When you really stop and think about it, who does? No one likes to be yelled at. The effect it often has with my Daniel is to make him want to do the direct opposite of what you want him to do. Sometimes I think as he grows that defiance of authority can serve him well. He will question things. He wants to think for himself. He has such a strong ability to imagine the possibilities, create the environments of his choosing, and to love. He is outgoing, friendly and curious. He frequently chats with the neighbors, the cashiers at the grocery store, and random strangers on the street. The world is an interesting place full of things that spark his imagination.
I know that I can't make them learn life's lessons. I know that I am only a part of their world. I am not their whole world. There are other influences on them. Some good (their father), some not so good (television), and I cannot control who they become. I am barely begun on this journey of parenthood, but I feel the weight of this endeavor so deeply.
What will my children become? They are already moving out of that stage of their lives where they need me to be ever present. It's hard for me to see that happening. I am not the central player in their lives any more. My role as mother is already shifting. I am moving from the "Mom as Source" of all role to "Mom as Conduit to" role. I'm not providing them with all their needs anymore...and that's kind of scary for me. Now, lest you think I don't realize the others in our lives that meet the children's needs, let me assure you that I haven't forgotten. They have a terrific father who works hard to provide them with the things that they need. He is our breadwinner, he is a major source of light and humor. He is a steadying force. He is the quiet reassurance that my children need. The lighthouse to their tidal force. But I am talking about my role as Mom here.
So my children's needs are shifting. Their need of me to be their source of all stimulation, food and support is shifting. Now they need me to act as a conduit to experiences. They need me to assure them that they are important. They need me to play games with them. They need me to provide them with experiences that cause them to think about the world around them. They need me to give them a home base to explore from. They need to know that they can venture out into the big wide world and that there is still a place for them when they return either triumphant from their days' adventures, or beat down. Whether we are celebrating or applying healing salves, they need to know there are those who care about them waiting for them at home.
Boy I hope I am doing that job well. I want to foster independence for them. I want them to feel competent as individuals. But I want them to know that on those occassions when things don't work out as they had hoped, I and there father are here for them. I think I do okay teaching them to be independent, but I think my bedside manner when they are not doing so well needs work. I think I am a bit of a hardcase at times. I don't mean to be, but I want my children to understand that the world is not going to change to meet them. They must adapt to the world around them. But I hope I am remembering while I teach them that that they are young. They need. And it's okay to need.
I also want to teach my children the importance of being decent. I was talking with a distant family member today and he put it like this: I see my role as parent like this: I need to teach my children not to be dicks. Crudely put, but dead on in my opinion. That one phrase captures exactly what I want for my children. I want them to have manners, to think about others, and to have integrity. In short, I want to teach them to not be dicks.
We live in a society that is too permissive in my opinion. When someone is rude it is chalked up to a bad day, or it is ignored. On the surface that is. I don't believe that anyone truly forgets if you are rude to them. They can forgive and move on for sure, but when you are rude to someone it isn't forgotten. It is added to their mental database describing who you are to them. Teaching your children to have manners helps them to learn the important role they play in the world around them. It helps them to remember that they are not the only ones who have feelings. It helps them be aware of the needs of others, even if only in a superficial way.
My son Daniel often holds the door for me. He will proclaim, "I am a gentleman Mommy." I usually smile and tell him that yes, he is indeed a gentleman. I hope that this behavior continues as he grows. But it won't unless we encourage it. This encouragement and teaching needs to extend past the superficial act of holding the door though. I must teach my children to think of others' needs in addition to their own. I want my children to grow up knowing that they are part of a larger community. That they have a responsibility to care for that community. It's not just about themselves. There is a larger picture to consider.
So, as Mother's Day begins, I approach it humbly, hoping that I am equal to the task. I hope my children understand how very special they are. I hope I convey to them how important a task raising them is to me. I am hoping as the years progress I will deserve the title of Mom.
My five things:
1.) I am grateful to have such wonderful, smart, creative, beautiful children
2.) I am grateful to have a wonderful partner to raise these children with
3.) I am grateful for those around me that I can learn from to become a better parent
4.) I am grateful for good friends who help support my efforts to be a good mom
5.) I am grateful for the chance God has given me to be a Mom.
Lately, I have been thinking about what it means to be a mother. What I want for my children and what I should want for my children. I don't know if I have the answer to what being a good mom is, but I hope I can learn before my kids grow up and leave.
So what do I want for my children? What do I think is important? What do I want them to learn, to absorb, and to make a part of themselves? Hmmmmm. First, I want them to be happy, secure individuals. I want them to know that they are loveable. That they deserve love. That they matter. I don't want them to feel entitled, that's different. I don't want them to be demanding. But I want them to be confident. To rest assured that they have a place in the world. They belong. They are important. They matter. I want them to know that this belonging and mattering doesn't depend on their performance. If they screw up, they still belong. They are still loved.
I also want them to know that anything worth having is earned. The world is not their oyster. Or maybe it is if they are willing to be the one to swim to the bottom of the proverbial ocean to get the oyster themselves and pry out the pearl. I have been trying, since my children were very small, to teach them the value of hard work and earning their way. I think I have been going about it all wrong though, as their focus seems to be on money. They feel money is the enemy. Money is bad. I talk with my children frequently about money and how our home and the things they have and enjoy cost money. I don't try to drive it down their throats, but when they complain about not wanting their father or I to leave for work, I will often tell them that we need to go so that we can afford the things we need to live or the things that we want to enjoy.
But I think somehow I am causing them to miss the point. Money is ONLY a tool. It is neither good nor bad. It is useful to obtain the things we need and want. Period. But we shouldn't pursue it endlessly. I think I need to help them focus more on which things we should want to pursue. To my way of thinking, pursuing an understanding of God and those we love should be our main focus. When I refer to those we love, I include love and understanding of oneself. That is one of the most crucial people we need to love and understand. Without this love and understanding, often our perceptions of others become skewed. We have insecurities that cause us to filter out the wrong information when we are dealing with family and friends. If I can teach my children that they are loveable, worthy individuals who are capable of contributing to society in meaningful ways they will be open to learning from life.
So what is my job as a mother? I see my job as multifaceted. I think part of my job is to provide guidance. While I may make many decisions and apply certain rules to their behaviors, I think my overall function in this area is to guide my children. I will do my best to provide the tools they need to learn to make good decisions. Hopefully I will allow them the space to practice making decisions. Some of their decisions will be good ones. Some not so good. I pray I have the strength to let them stand on their own two feet whether those decisions are good or bad. And I pray that they feel they can come to me when their decisions turn out to not be so perfect. If they fall I don't want them to feel they cannot come to me and ask for help.
It's a tough balance. I have high expectations of my children. I expect them to try hard in every area of their lives. I refuse to let them say they can't do something. I don't expect them to be perfect at what they do, but I do expect them to try their very best at everything they try. I hope they experience this expectation as faith in their abilities and not intolerance. I do not want my children to grow up with the idea that everything is going to be handed to them. But I also don't want them to be afraid to fail.
My daughter is a straight A student. I am proud of her. She is in fourth grade and she always brings home glowing reports from school. More important to me than the grade letter however, is the section for the teacher's comments, where the teachers all say that she puts a lot of effort into her studies. She excels in many areas of her studies, but I am most proud of the fact that all her teachers say that she tries hard at everything she does. She told me the other day that she is disappointed with herself if she brings home anything lower than an A. If she gets an A- she is upset. I told her that if she is trying her hardest, it doesn't matter if it's an A or an A-...or even a C. I hope I am doing the right thing telling her this. I don't want her to think a C is okay if that isn't her best effort.
My son Christopher is a wonderful student too. My worry with him is that he is actually a little too hard on himself. He is learning to read. He is doing a great job according to what his teacher says and what I see. But when we read together, he gets so upset if he can't sound out a word. He hits himself in the head and will cry. I tried to tell him the other day that it was okay to make mistakes. He was in school because he doesn't know it all. That was the point of being in school. Everyone makes mistakes and that is okay. He responded with, "I make more mistakes than anyone though Mommy." How do I help my little guy? How do I guide him to make his best effort without creating unneccessary stress for him?
Then there is Daniel. Daniel is almost four, and he is a complicated mix of self-assurance and temper. Trying to motivate my little guy to follow directions and want to participate has been quite a challenge for me. My approval of him has nothing to do with getting him to do what you would like him to do. He can be the sweetest, kindest little boy or the most defiant, frustrating, oppositional individual. It all depends on how you handle him. I wish I could say that I always handled him correctly, but I don't. He does not like to be yelled at, that is for sure. When you really stop and think about it, who does? No one likes to be yelled at. The effect it often has with my Daniel is to make him want to do the direct opposite of what you want him to do. Sometimes I think as he grows that defiance of authority can serve him well. He will question things. He wants to think for himself. He has such a strong ability to imagine the possibilities, create the environments of his choosing, and to love. He is outgoing, friendly and curious. He frequently chats with the neighbors, the cashiers at the grocery store, and random strangers on the street. The world is an interesting place full of things that spark his imagination.
I know that I can't make them learn life's lessons. I know that I am only a part of their world. I am not their whole world. There are other influences on them. Some good (their father), some not so good (television), and I cannot control who they become. I am barely begun on this journey of parenthood, but I feel the weight of this endeavor so deeply.
What will my children become? They are already moving out of that stage of their lives where they need me to be ever present. It's hard for me to see that happening. I am not the central player in their lives any more. My role as mother is already shifting. I am moving from the "Mom as Source" of all role to "Mom as Conduit to" role. I'm not providing them with all their needs anymore...and that's kind of scary for me. Now, lest you think I don't realize the others in our lives that meet the children's needs, let me assure you that I haven't forgotten. They have a terrific father who works hard to provide them with the things that they need. He is our breadwinner, he is a major source of light and humor. He is a steadying force. He is the quiet reassurance that my children need. The lighthouse to their tidal force. But I am talking about my role as Mom here.
So my children's needs are shifting. Their need of me to be their source of all stimulation, food and support is shifting. Now they need me to act as a conduit to experiences. They need me to assure them that they are important. They need me to play games with them. They need me to provide them with experiences that cause them to think about the world around them. They need me to give them a home base to explore from. They need to know that they can venture out into the big wide world and that there is still a place for them when they return either triumphant from their days' adventures, or beat down. Whether we are celebrating or applying healing salves, they need to know there are those who care about them waiting for them at home.
Boy I hope I am doing that job well. I want to foster independence for them. I want them to feel competent as individuals. But I want them to know that on those occassions when things don't work out as they had hoped, I and there father are here for them. I think I do okay teaching them to be independent, but I think my bedside manner when they are not doing so well needs work. I think I am a bit of a hardcase at times. I don't mean to be, but I want my children to understand that the world is not going to change to meet them. They must adapt to the world around them. But I hope I am remembering while I teach them that that they are young. They need. And it's okay to need.
I also want to teach my children the importance of being decent. I was talking with a distant family member today and he put it like this: I see my role as parent like this: I need to teach my children not to be dicks. Crudely put, but dead on in my opinion. That one phrase captures exactly what I want for my children. I want them to have manners, to think about others, and to have integrity. In short, I want to teach them to not be dicks.
We live in a society that is too permissive in my opinion. When someone is rude it is chalked up to a bad day, or it is ignored. On the surface that is. I don't believe that anyone truly forgets if you are rude to them. They can forgive and move on for sure, but when you are rude to someone it isn't forgotten. It is added to their mental database describing who you are to them. Teaching your children to have manners helps them to learn the important role they play in the world around them. It helps them to remember that they are not the only ones who have feelings. It helps them be aware of the needs of others, even if only in a superficial way.
My son Daniel often holds the door for me. He will proclaim, "I am a gentleman Mommy." I usually smile and tell him that yes, he is indeed a gentleman. I hope that this behavior continues as he grows. But it won't unless we encourage it. This encouragement and teaching needs to extend past the superficial act of holding the door though. I must teach my children to think of others' needs in addition to their own. I want my children to grow up knowing that they are part of a larger community. That they have a responsibility to care for that community. It's not just about themselves. There is a larger picture to consider.
So, as Mother's Day begins, I approach it humbly, hoping that I am equal to the task. I hope my children understand how very special they are. I hope I convey to them how important a task raising them is to me. I am hoping as the years progress I will deserve the title of Mom.
My five things:
1.) I am grateful to have such wonderful, smart, creative, beautiful children
2.) I am grateful to have a wonderful partner to raise these children with
3.) I am grateful for those around me that I can learn from to become a better parent
4.) I am grateful for good friends who help support my efforts to be a good mom
5.) I am grateful for the chance God has given me to be a Mom.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I arrive at 3pm? No wait midnight? No wait 2:30am?
So after I finished talking with Brian, I went and checked in with the airline. My flight was scheduled to depart on time, and I was there in plenty of time. I sat down in a chair facing the airline's boarding desk, and whipped out my book.
The book I was working on is called "Heart of a Father." This book is a collection of essays from men who either have children with a congenital heart defect, have a heart defect themselves, are married to someone with a congenital heart defect, or are the grandparents of a child with a congenital heart defect. Some of these fathers have children who are babies, some have children who are grown, some fathers' children have died, and some are living with all the implications of having a heart defect themselves.
I became absorbed in the book. The writing is terrific. I cried my eyes out for the men in these essays. The stories of love, loss and support are amazing. They write about how the decisions that they make affect their relationships with their children, how their marriages endure or fail, and how they cope with the stress of needing to work versus their desire to be by the bedsides of their loved ones.
The more I read, the more connected I became with these men. I was devastated after reading the essay of one dad who held his baby as he died in his arms. One dad wrote a series of love letters to his daughter who died at the age of five. Another dad wrote a poem about losing his son.
As I stopped to wipe my eyes, I looked up and noticed that the flight information at the gate had changed. I jumped up and ran to the Continental Airlines desk. "What happened to the flight to Newark?" I demanded. "Where is it?"
"Are you Mrs. Turner? Didn't you hear us? We called for you overhead." The gate attendants looked incredulous.
"No! No I most certainly did NOT hear you call for me! I was sitting right there!" I pointed to the seat in front of the gate.
"We did call for you several times Mrs. Turner, I'm sorry," the attendants looked apologetic.
I instantly burst into tears. "You don't understand. I haven't had a vacation in several years. I haven't been away from my three young children in more than 9.5 YEARS!" I felt hopeless. My ship was sunk before it left port. My chance to kick back, relax and gain a new perspective...gone. What was I going to do? And how was I going to explain this stupid mistake to Steve? Steve had graciously agreed, without argument, to allow me to take this solo trip, and I had spent money that we could not afford to waste. Now that the money was spent, I would STILL not get the rest I was looking for and it was all my fault. How could I miss the flight? Why hadn't I heard them calling me?
"Hold on Mrs. Turner, we are looking to see if we can help you now," the gate attendants looked sympathetic. They said, "We know what you are going through, believe me. We understand the need for a vacation. Hold on." There were two of them. The one with the long dark hair was biting her lower lip and working busily at a terminal, checking flights.
I anxiously awaited their response. Shifting from foot to foot I tried to be patient. I tried to let them work their magic without my interjections. Finally, the woman with the shorter,curlier dark hair and pretty eyes smiled, "We found you a flight to Columbus,OH where you can connect with a flight to Dallas." Oh yay! I was so relieved. To still be able to go on my little adventure. To have a shot at relaxation. The possibility of a fresh new perspective returning to me.
"Oh thank you so much!" I gushed. "I really appreciate your help."
"Do you want a window seat or an aisle?" the woman with the long hair asked.
"I don't care, really. I am just so happy that you could help me at all, I'll take anything," I was feeling buoyant again.
So I was back on track. I was on my way to see my sister. I would be a little later, but I would still get there. I sent a text message to my sister, letting her know that I missed my flight and that I would be arriving a bit later than originally planned. After texting her my flight information I decided to call her anyway, to be sure she knew the score.
When I got Cathy on the phone she asked me, "Do you like Jimmy Buffett?" Are you kidding me? LIKE Jimmy Buffett? I LOVE Jimmy Buffett. Absolutely LOVE him. "Well, Jay got us tickets to go tomorrow night," Cathy informed me. "I'm on my way to go get them right now," she said.
I didn't care how I got there, I decided. If I had to walk there, I would make it in time for Jimmy tomorrow night I told myself mentally. I would not miss the Parrothead scene for all the cheeseburgers in paradise.
This trip was looking up for me. Okay, so I missed my initial flight. I managed to get on another without it costing me anything extra, and it looked like the trip was shaping up to be extra fun. I have always wanted to go to a Jimmy Buffett concert. The cult following he has is legendary. The crowds that tend to follow Jimmy just want to have a good time. Most of them have clearly visited Margaritaville a time or two before coming to the concert. Many are aging Yuppies. But all just want to have a good time without wanting to hurt anybody. I doubt if any of them have visited a mosh pit, but I could be wrong. Jimmy's good time vibe is just what I needed.
My flight to Dallas from Columbus was cancelled due to weather. Apparently there were hail storms moving through the midwest and the airport in Dallas was diverting aircraft because of them. I was quickly rescheduled on a flight to Houston. I thought to myself, "I wonder if Cathy would be up for a road trip to pick me up in Houston?" I hoped that would not become necessary, but didn't know what I should do if I couldn't get a flight out of Columbus to Dallas. I remembered that Houston was a big city. The last time I was there to visit my brother we drove two hours and were still in Houston. Boy I hoped I didn't get stuck in either Columbus or Houston.
The gate was changed. There were some complications due to weather issues, so the overhead announcement was that there was a gate change for my flight from Columbus to Houston. I grabbed my bags (boy was I glad I only had two carryons and no checked baggage), and headed for the gate.
When I got to the gate that was announced on the overhead it did not list Houston as the destination. Monterrey was listed. I approached the desk and was informed that yes, this was the correct gate, they were just waiting for the plane to arrive from Atlanta. Feeling nervous and worried since I had already missed a flight, I uneasily sat down in a chair at the gate. Reflecting on how easy it would be to miss an announcement overhead (it could be very hard to understand what was being said sometimes), I spied a group of flight attendants. I approached them and asked if they were going to be on my flight. When I was informed that yes, they were the flight attendants for my flight, I decided right then and there that I would follow them. Since my plane could not leave without this group of flight attendants, I would stick to them like glue.
One of the flight attendants seemed to have a direct line to the flight tower. She got frequent updates on what was going on and when we were expected to be able to board the plane. She also got an advance warning of a gate change, so it was a rather simple thing to follow the group of the attendants to the new gate. I felt assured that I would be boarding the correct flight if we didn't get cancelled due to the weather.
Finally we were called to board the plane. I quickly texted my sister that I was indeed boarding and got in line. I listened closely and made my way into the plane and found my window seat as soon as I was able to. I buckled my seatbelt, pulled out my book, and waited for the plane to take off. And waited. And waited. After about an hour, the pilot informed us that he was sorry, but for some reason the crew did not have a flight plan in with the paperwork and that they could not take off until they found the flight plan. We would have to wait at the gate until the flight plan was found. If we so desired, we could get off the plane and stretch our legs while they searched for the paper work that they needed.
Nothing doing! There was no way I was leaving the plane, I informed my young seatmate, a high school aged soccer player. I settled down to read, reasoning that if the crew wanted the plane cleared, they would inform me. Soon enough, the pilot was back on the overhead informing us that a flight plan had been located, they were very sorry for the delay, and we would be taking off momentarily.
The in flight movie, which they gave to us free of charge to make up for the delay, was Marley & Me. The ads for this movie make it seem as if the movie is a comedy about the foibles of raising a dog with bad habits. He is lovingly called, "The worst dog ever!" throughout the movie. But the movie is really about the life of a family. The struggle to balance personal satisfaction and happiness with the needs of a young family figure into the story line quite prominently. It struck me as a movie that couples should watch together and discuss. It was very provocative. It was emotional. It was poignant. And timely...at least as far as my life is concerned.
Eventually I did arrive in Dallas. It was 2:30am. I was tired and sore. But I was there. My sister was there, looking relieved and tired. We hugged briefly. She joked around with me about how everyone who goes to visit her misses their flight or has some kind of problem. She took me to a breakfast place that was open all night. We had lattes and banana nut pancakes. It was yummy. Then we went to bed, not to arise until 1pm that afternoon.
On the drive to her place, my sister remarked that I was remarkably calm for the kind of day I had just had. I made the comment to her that after I knew I could still get to Dallas, the rest of it was just fine. I could live with more connections, later arrivals and such, just so long as I knew all would be right in the end.
My five things:
1.) I am grateful for those at Continental Airlines that were willing to help me
2.) I am grateful for Jimmy Buffett
3.) I am grateful for my sister Cathy, who is the queen of hospitality
4.) I am grateful for Jay, my brother-in-law who assisted with my weekend of relaxation
5.) I am grateful for the ability to develop and exercise patience. Good things really DO come to those who wait.
The book I was working on is called "Heart of a Father." This book is a collection of essays from men who either have children with a congenital heart defect, have a heart defect themselves, are married to someone with a congenital heart defect, or are the grandparents of a child with a congenital heart defect. Some of these fathers have children who are babies, some have children who are grown, some fathers' children have died, and some are living with all the implications of having a heart defect themselves.
I became absorbed in the book. The writing is terrific. I cried my eyes out for the men in these essays. The stories of love, loss and support are amazing. They write about how the decisions that they make affect their relationships with their children, how their marriages endure or fail, and how they cope with the stress of needing to work versus their desire to be by the bedsides of their loved ones.
The more I read, the more connected I became with these men. I was devastated after reading the essay of one dad who held his baby as he died in his arms. One dad wrote a series of love letters to his daughter who died at the age of five. Another dad wrote a poem about losing his son.
As I stopped to wipe my eyes, I looked up and noticed that the flight information at the gate had changed. I jumped up and ran to the Continental Airlines desk. "What happened to the flight to Newark?" I demanded. "Where is it?"
"Are you Mrs. Turner? Didn't you hear us? We called for you overhead." The gate attendants looked incredulous.
"No! No I most certainly did NOT hear you call for me! I was sitting right there!" I pointed to the seat in front of the gate.
"We did call for you several times Mrs. Turner, I'm sorry," the attendants looked apologetic.
I instantly burst into tears. "You don't understand. I haven't had a vacation in several years. I haven't been away from my three young children in more than 9.5 YEARS!" I felt hopeless. My ship was sunk before it left port. My chance to kick back, relax and gain a new perspective...gone. What was I going to do? And how was I going to explain this stupid mistake to Steve? Steve had graciously agreed, without argument, to allow me to take this solo trip, and I had spent money that we could not afford to waste. Now that the money was spent, I would STILL not get the rest I was looking for and it was all my fault. How could I miss the flight? Why hadn't I heard them calling me?
"Hold on Mrs. Turner, we are looking to see if we can help you now," the gate attendants looked sympathetic. They said, "We know what you are going through, believe me. We understand the need for a vacation. Hold on." There were two of them. The one with the long dark hair was biting her lower lip and working busily at a terminal, checking flights.
I anxiously awaited their response. Shifting from foot to foot I tried to be patient. I tried to let them work their magic without my interjections. Finally, the woman with the shorter,curlier dark hair and pretty eyes smiled, "We found you a flight to Columbus,OH where you can connect with a flight to Dallas." Oh yay! I was so relieved. To still be able to go on my little adventure. To have a shot at relaxation. The possibility of a fresh new perspective returning to me.
"Oh thank you so much!" I gushed. "I really appreciate your help."
"Do you want a window seat or an aisle?" the woman with the long hair asked.
"I don't care, really. I am just so happy that you could help me at all, I'll take anything," I was feeling buoyant again.
So I was back on track. I was on my way to see my sister. I would be a little later, but I would still get there. I sent a text message to my sister, letting her know that I missed my flight and that I would be arriving a bit later than originally planned. After texting her my flight information I decided to call her anyway, to be sure she knew the score.
When I got Cathy on the phone she asked me, "Do you like Jimmy Buffett?" Are you kidding me? LIKE Jimmy Buffett? I LOVE Jimmy Buffett. Absolutely LOVE him. "Well, Jay got us tickets to go tomorrow night," Cathy informed me. "I'm on my way to go get them right now," she said.
I didn't care how I got there, I decided. If I had to walk there, I would make it in time for Jimmy tomorrow night I told myself mentally. I would not miss the Parrothead scene for all the cheeseburgers in paradise.
This trip was looking up for me. Okay, so I missed my initial flight. I managed to get on another without it costing me anything extra, and it looked like the trip was shaping up to be extra fun. I have always wanted to go to a Jimmy Buffett concert. The cult following he has is legendary. The crowds that tend to follow Jimmy just want to have a good time. Most of them have clearly visited Margaritaville a time or two before coming to the concert. Many are aging Yuppies. But all just want to have a good time without wanting to hurt anybody. I doubt if any of them have visited a mosh pit, but I could be wrong. Jimmy's good time vibe is just what I needed.
My flight to Dallas from Columbus was cancelled due to weather. Apparently there were hail storms moving through the midwest and the airport in Dallas was diverting aircraft because of them. I was quickly rescheduled on a flight to Houston. I thought to myself, "I wonder if Cathy would be up for a road trip to pick me up in Houston?" I hoped that would not become necessary, but didn't know what I should do if I couldn't get a flight out of Columbus to Dallas. I remembered that Houston was a big city. The last time I was there to visit my brother we drove two hours and were still in Houston. Boy I hoped I didn't get stuck in either Columbus or Houston.
The gate was changed. There were some complications due to weather issues, so the overhead announcement was that there was a gate change for my flight from Columbus to Houston. I grabbed my bags (boy was I glad I only had two carryons and no checked baggage), and headed for the gate.
When I got to the gate that was announced on the overhead it did not list Houston as the destination. Monterrey was listed. I approached the desk and was informed that yes, this was the correct gate, they were just waiting for the plane to arrive from Atlanta. Feeling nervous and worried since I had already missed a flight, I uneasily sat down in a chair at the gate. Reflecting on how easy it would be to miss an announcement overhead (it could be very hard to understand what was being said sometimes), I spied a group of flight attendants. I approached them and asked if they were going to be on my flight. When I was informed that yes, they were the flight attendants for my flight, I decided right then and there that I would follow them. Since my plane could not leave without this group of flight attendants, I would stick to them like glue.
One of the flight attendants seemed to have a direct line to the flight tower. She got frequent updates on what was going on and when we were expected to be able to board the plane. She also got an advance warning of a gate change, so it was a rather simple thing to follow the group of the attendants to the new gate. I felt assured that I would be boarding the correct flight if we didn't get cancelled due to the weather.
Finally we were called to board the plane. I quickly texted my sister that I was indeed boarding and got in line. I listened closely and made my way into the plane and found my window seat as soon as I was able to. I buckled my seatbelt, pulled out my book, and waited for the plane to take off. And waited. And waited. After about an hour, the pilot informed us that he was sorry, but for some reason the crew did not have a flight plan in with the paperwork and that they could not take off until they found the flight plan. We would have to wait at the gate until the flight plan was found. If we so desired, we could get off the plane and stretch our legs while they searched for the paper work that they needed.
Nothing doing! There was no way I was leaving the plane, I informed my young seatmate, a high school aged soccer player. I settled down to read, reasoning that if the crew wanted the plane cleared, they would inform me. Soon enough, the pilot was back on the overhead informing us that a flight plan had been located, they were very sorry for the delay, and we would be taking off momentarily.
The in flight movie, which they gave to us free of charge to make up for the delay, was Marley & Me. The ads for this movie make it seem as if the movie is a comedy about the foibles of raising a dog with bad habits. He is lovingly called, "The worst dog ever!" throughout the movie. But the movie is really about the life of a family. The struggle to balance personal satisfaction and happiness with the needs of a young family figure into the story line quite prominently. It struck me as a movie that couples should watch together and discuss. It was very provocative. It was emotional. It was poignant. And timely...at least as far as my life is concerned.
Eventually I did arrive in Dallas. It was 2:30am. I was tired and sore. But I was there. My sister was there, looking relieved and tired. We hugged briefly. She joked around with me about how everyone who goes to visit her misses their flight or has some kind of problem. She took me to a breakfast place that was open all night. We had lattes and banana nut pancakes. It was yummy. Then we went to bed, not to arise until 1pm that afternoon.
On the drive to her place, my sister remarked that I was remarkably calm for the kind of day I had just had. I made the comment to her that after I knew I could still get to Dallas, the rest of it was just fine. I could live with more connections, later arrivals and such, just so long as I knew all would be right in the end.
My five things:
1.) I am grateful for those at Continental Airlines that were willing to help me
2.) I am grateful for Jimmy Buffett
3.) I am grateful for my sister Cathy, who is the queen of hospitality
4.) I am grateful for Jay, my brother-in-law who assisted with my weekend of relaxation
5.) I am grateful for the ability to develop and exercise patience. Good things really DO come to those who wait.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Live Where You Play
So I took my trip to Dallas and, in a word, it was FABULOUS!!! Not without a few hitches, but it was truly fabulous. I am soooooooo glad I went. I hope you don't mind listening to me babble about it as I think I came away with some interesting food for thought. It may take more than one post to truly attend to my thoughts on this trip, so bear with me, okay?
First, let me say, my sister was terrific. Thank you Cathy,if you are reading this. I can't express in words how timely your hospitality was. Not just your hospitality, but your willingness to let bygones be bygones. We have had some differences in the past and truthfully I was worried that they would come into play while I was down in Dallas, but they did not. I had fun, I rested, I relaxed, and I recharged. I was able to do some thinking, and adjust my perspective a bit. It was also a huge help to be able to just have fun. My sister was thoughtful and attentive, and did exactly the right amount of planning. Her ability to go with the flow and be responsive to what I needed was admirable. I wish more people understood how to respond to someone in need (including myself).
I'll recap my trip for you so you can see what I mean. First, I caught a taxi to Logan airport. It was a bit pricey, but I don't do it often, so what the hey? The taxi arrived on time, at 6:45am (ugh!I am NOT an early riser) and we were off. The gentleman who was my chauffer was personable, professional, and prompt. He knew his way around the airport and delivered me to the curbside area for Continental Airlines. All I had to do was step out with my luggage (2 carryons), and check in with skycap.
I was two hours early for my flight, so I felt pretty comfortable. I went through security with only minor problems - my luggage was searched and they found a pair of scissors that I did not know was in my bag (thank you to my children for that I think). After confiscating them I proceeded through without further event.
After ascertaining the location of my gate, I decided to get breakfast at a bar in the area. I sat down, ordered my coffee and french toast, and pulled out a book I was going to read. It was an advanced manuscript copy of a book a friend of mine had asked me to read and review for her, called Heart of a Father. I had begun reading it the previous week, but hadn't had the time I was hoping for to complete it. I was hoping to read it on the flight so I could fill out her survey and give her feedback on the book prior to her sending it to her publisher.
While I was fishing around in my suitcase for the book, a young man pulled up to the bar. He had all his luggage stacked on what looked at first glance to be a wheelchair, but upon taking a second look turned out to be a hand cart. This gentleman looked to be in his early 30's, and the way he was dressed made me think of guys who like to hike in the wilderness, go rock climbing, and love extreme sports of all kinds. He had a bandanna on his head, wore hiking boots, and had a watch on each wrist.
When he pulled up, he said to me, "Do you mind if I pull up here? I don't want to crowd you or anything." I replied, "No, not at all, that's fine." I located my book and pulled it out to read.
"Waitress? Can I please have a beer?" he asked. I thought, "Geesh, this guy is already drinking at 8:00am? Definite problems there." Oh, how judgemental we can be. Without even knowing this man I had already assessed the situation and decided that he had, "issues." When I caught myself doing that, I mentally scolded myself, "Now, you don't know anything about this guy. Maybe he's just travelled from somewhere and his time zones are all goofed up. Besides, it's none of my business."
The "Guy with the Beer" extended his hand, "Hi, I'm Brian. What's your name?" I told him that I was Sheri and inquired about the two wrist watches. "Oh that. I wear the watch with my current time zone on my left wrist and the watch with the time zone I am going to on my right. That way I'm not calling people at the wrong time. It pisses them off when you do that. It also keeps me from missing flights. I've done that before. You know, you think you have two hours between flights but you don't account for the change in time zones."
I proceeded for the next hour and 15 minutes to have one of the single most interesting discussions I have ever had with anyone. I asked Brian what he was travelling for, business or pleasure. He told me both. He said he was a travelling surgical nurse on his way to work in Hawaii for the next six months. He was leaving his wife behind and was hoping to earn her ticket soon.
Brian soon began to inquire of me what my travel was about, business or pleasure. I told Brian that I was a stay at home mother with a part time third shift hospital job and that I was in desperate need of some rest and relaxation. I was hoping to regain some perspective on my life by taking this trip and needed to have some fun.
"You know, God likes us to have fun you know," Brian commented. "Most people don't realize that, but God loves it when we have a good time." Hmmm. Interesting. Most people I talk to either don't care at all about what God wants (if they believe in him), or they think God is only interested in us insofar as we can sacrifice all we are and have in his service. Short term missions to Uraguay to rebuild schools and evangelize the heathen masses. Soup kitchens. Ministries. Sunday schools. Picking up our cross. That kind of stuff. I don't often hear about a God who wants us to go rock climbing, hiking, water skiing and who likes to hear us laugh.
Tell me more Brian. Brian told me about his life and his philosophy. He said, "You gotta live where you play." Why slave your ass off for 50 weeks a year to spend a pantload of money to travel to where you have fun for a mere two weeks? That's no way to live. Brian told me about his life. He found several acres of land on a mountaintop dirt cheap, plopped a simple house on it with a generator and a woodburning stove, and he lives there with his wife year round. People tell him he's crazy to live that way...needing a snowplow on a regular basis to get to his home, having to chop cords of wood to keep heated, and navigating through the occassional blackout by firing up his generator. But he loves it. The manual labor helps him to clear his mind of clutter. He doesn't need a lot of money, and it allows him to pursue his passion as a travelling surgical nurse.
"I always feel like I have to be 'on' I told Brian. I never get to just enjoy life. I have chores, I have obligations, I have committments. I don't have fun."
Brian responded, "Take a bump." Huh? What are you talking about Brian? Before I had a chance to ask the question, Brian said, "If you are ever in a position where the airline asks you to accept a bump from a flight and you have the time, do it. It's totally worth it. And you can get some wonderful R&R that way, really." Brian let that thought sink in for a few moments."You know, I have been bumped 3 times from my flight to Hawaii, and I have almost earned enough for a ticket for my wife to come to Hawaii with me. In addition to that I have had the time to just relax. I don't start my job until Monday, so I can afford to just hang out. The airline has paid for my hotel and given me $600 towards another ticket I can use for my wife," he paused. "It's a great way to relax."
Thank you Brian, I thought. As I was thinking this Brian ordered another beer. I found myself thinking of that Jimmy Buffett song, "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere." Brian was travelling to Hawaii, and I don't remember how many hours behind or ahead of us they are, but I was sure that if he were there, having a beer would not seem so odd. The next time the waitress came by my table, I decided to order a Mimosa. I found myself internally toasting Brian and his philosophy.
The conversation shifted to technology. Brian wanted nothing to do with laptops, cell phones and the like. He was more into writing with an old typewriter he found at a landfill. He loved the clackety-clack of the keys and felt that it was more closely tied to his writing than the quiet click of keys on a desktop or laptop computer. "But I will probably eventually need one," he conceded sadly. "It's the wave of the future. Everyone MUST have access to these annoying devices." He refuses to use the internet, and more power to him. He views himself as one of the last hold-outs, refusing to be sucked into a world of instant gratification. Far too many people see what they want on the internet, hit a key, and presto! The item in question is delivered to their doorstep.
The world of instant gratification and technology led us to conversing about parenting styles. I personally object to raising my children to be connected to computers, television or video games for any real length of time. "When I was raising my children as youngsters," Brian said (and this was where I found out my assessment of his age was all wrong...he was 51), "if it was sunny outside they were told that was where they needed to be...outside. Go look at frogs, birds, bugs, whatever. Go play baseball, football, frisbee. Do whatever "girly" things you can outside. I didn't care. But they were not going to be indoors." Brian and I agree on that subject. It was refreshing to talk to someone else who saw a problem with teaching their children it was okay to be sucked into the mindless drivel on the television, or to play endless rounds of video-games that desensitize them to violence (I know, get off the soap box...but NO, I will not, it's my blog and I can say this if I want to)or to sit in front of a computer that pretends to have answers but doesn't really have good filters. Go outside. Interact with the world. Cut the cords that tether you inside during the sunny blissful days of childhood. Pick flowers. Throw mud. Ride your bike.
The Mimosa went down quickly as we talked more and I felt the drink going to my face, as alcoholic drinks usually do. I am a real lightweight when it comes to drinking and I often finish a drink with my face crimson and heated. I checked my phone for the time and saw that there was approximately a half hour before my flight departed. Even though I was thoroughly enjoying my conversation with Brian, I was anxious to get to my gate as I was fearful of missing my flight (how ironic I would find out later).
Brian got up, shook my hand, and then hugged me. It was nice to talk to someone who got it. Someone who saw how deceptively easy it is to get sucked into a busy life full of nothing. Full of computers, internet shopping and television. Full of empty jobs, oversized empty houses, and devoid of heart.
If Brian was any indication of how my trip was going to be, I was encouraged. Maybe I was making the right decision by going. Maybe it wasn't selfish of me to want to get away for a few days and regroup. Perhaps God had something to say to me and was using Brian to do it. Maybe he had more in store for me. Boy, I couldn't wait to hear it if so.
My five things:
1.) I'm soooo grateful for my sister Cathy
2.) I'm grateful for meeting Brian
3.) I'm grateful for a husband who can support my needs
4.) I'm grateful for possibilities
5.) I'm grateful for renewal
First, let me say, my sister was terrific. Thank you Cathy,if you are reading this. I can't express in words how timely your hospitality was. Not just your hospitality, but your willingness to let bygones be bygones. We have had some differences in the past and truthfully I was worried that they would come into play while I was down in Dallas, but they did not. I had fun, I rested, I relaxed, and I recharged. I was able to do some thinking, and adjust my perspective a bit. It was also a huge help to be able to just have fun. My sister was thoughtful and attentive, and did exactly the right amount of planning. Her ability to go with the flow and be responsive to what I needed was admirable. I wish more people understood how to respond to someone in need (including myself).
I'll recap my trip for you so you can see what I mean. First, I caught a taxi to Logan airport. It was a bit pricey, but I don't do it often, so what the hey? The taxi arrived on time, at 6:45am (ugh!I am NOT an early riser) and we were off. The gentleman who was my chauffer was personable, professional, and prompt. He knew his way around the airport and delivered me to the curbside area for Continental Airlines. All I had to do was step out with my luggage (2 carryons), and check in with skycap.
I was two hours early for my flight, so I felt pretty comfortable. I went through security with only minor problems - my luggage was searched and they found a pair of scissors that I did not know was in my bag (thank you to my children for that I think). After confiscating them I proceeded through without further event.
After ascertaining the location of my gate, I decided to get breakfast at a bar in the area. I sat down, ordered my coffee and french toast, and pulled out a book I was going to read. It was an advanced manuscript copy of a book a friend of mine had asked me to read and review for her, called Heart of a Father. I had begun reading it the previous week, but hadn't had the time I was hoping for to complete it. I was hoping to read it on the flight so I could fill out her survey and give her feedback on the book prior to her sending it to her publisher.
While I was fishing around in my suitcase for the book, a young man pulled up to the bar. He had all his luggage stacked on what looked at first glance to be a wheelchair, but upon taking a second look turned out to be a hand cart. This gentleman looked to be in his early 30's, and the way he was dressed made me think of guys who like to hike in the wilderness, go rock climbing, and love extreme sports of all kinds. He had a bandanna on his head, wore hiking boots, and had a watch on each wrist.
When he pulled up, he said to me, "Do you mind if I pull up here? I don't want to crowd you or anything." I replied, "No, not at all, that's fine." I located my book and pulled it out to read.
"Waitress? Can I please have a beer?" he asked. I thought, "Geesh, this guy is already drinking at 8:00am? Definite problems there." Oh, how judgemental we can be. Without even knowing this man I had already assessed the situation and decided that he had, "issues." When I caught myself doing that, I mentally scolded myself, "Now, you don't know anything about this guy. Maybe he's just travelled from somewhere and his time zones are all goofed up. Besides, it's none of my business."
The "Guy with the Beer" extended his hand, "Hi, I'm Brian. What's your name?" I told him that I was Sheri and inquired about the two wrist watches. "Oh that. I wear the watch with my current time zone on my left wrist and the watch with the time zone I am going to on my right. That way I'm not calling people at the wrong time. It pisses them off when you do that. It also keeps me from missing flights. I've done that before. You know, you think you have two hours between flights but you don't account for the change in time zones."
I proceeded for the next hour and 15 minutes to have one of the single most interesting discussions I have ever had with anyone. I asked Brian what he was travelling for, business or pleasure. He told me both. He said he was a travelling surgical nurse on his way to work in Hawaii for the next six months. He was leaving his wife behind and was hoping to earn her ticket soon.
Brian soon began to inquire of me what my travel was about, business or pleasure. I told Brian that I was a stay at home mother with a part time third shift hospital job and that I was in desperate need of some rest and relaxation. I was hoping to regain some perspective on my life by taking this trip and needed to have some fun.
"You know, God likes us to have fun you know," Brian commented. "Most people don't realize that, but God loves it when we have a good time." Hmmm. Interesting. Most people I talk to either don't care at all about what God wants (if they believe in him), or they think God is only interested in us insofar as we can sacrifice all we are and have in his service. Short term missions to Uraguay to rebuild schools and evangelize the heathen masses. Soup kitchens. Ministries. Sunday schools. Picking up our cross. That kind of stuff. I don't often hear about a God who wants us to go rock climbing, hiking, water skiing and who likes to hear us laugh.
Tell me more Brian. Brian told me about his life and his philosophy. He said, "You gotta live where you play." Why slave your ass off for 50 weeks a year to spend a pantload of money to travel to where you have fun for a mere two weeks? That's no way to live. Brian told me about his life. He found several acres of land on a mountaintop dirt cheap, plopped a simple house on it with a generator and a woodburning stove, and he lives there with his wife year round. People tell him he's crazy to live that way...needing a snowplow on a regular basis to get to his home, having to chop cords of wood to keep heated, and navigating through the occassional blackout by firing up his generator. But he loves it. The manual labor helps him to clear his mind of clutter. He doesn't need a lot of money, and it allows him to pursue his passion as a travelling surgical nurse.
"I always feel like I have to be 'on' I told Brian. I never get to just enjoy life. I have chores, I have obligations, I have committments. I don't have fun."
Brian responded, "Take a bump." Huh? What are you talking about Brian? Before I had a chance to ask the question, Brian said, "If you are ever in a position where the airline asks you to accept a bump from a flight and you have the time, do it. It's totally worth it. And you can get some wonderful R&R that way, really." Brian let that thought sink in for a few moments."You know, I have been bumped 3 times from my flight to Hawaii, and I have almost earned enough for a ticket for my wife to come to Hawaii with me. In addition to that I have had the time to just relax. I don't start my job until Monday, so I can afford to just hang out. The airline has paid for my hotel and given me $600 towards another ticket I can use for my wife," he paused. "It's a great way to relax."
Thank you Brian, I thought. As I was thinking this Brian ordered another beer. I found myself thinking of that Jimmy Buffett song, "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere." Brian was travelling to Hawaii, and I don't remember how many hours behind or ahead of us they are, but I was sure that if he were there, having a beer would not seem so odd. The next time the waitress came by my table, I decided to order a Mimosa. I found myself internally toasting Brian and his philosophy.
The conversation shifted to technology. Brian wanted nothing to do with laptops, cell phones and the like. He was more into writing with an old typewriter he found at a landfill. He loved the clackety-clack of the keys and felt that it was more closely tied to his writing than the quiet click of keys on a desktop or laptop computer. "But I will probably eventually need one," he conceded sadly. "It's the wave of the future. Everyone MUST have access to these annoying devices." He refuses to use the internet, and more power to him. He views himself as one of the last hold-outs, refusing to be sucked into a world of instant gratification. Far too many people see what they want on the internet, hit a key, and presto! The item in question is delivered to their doorstep.
The world of instant gratification and technology led us to conversing about parenting styles. I personally object to raising my children to be connected to computers, television or video games for any real length of time. "When I was raising my children as youngsters," Brian said (and this was where I found out my assessment of his age was all wrong...he was 51), "if it was sunny outside they were told that was where they needed to be...outside. Go look at frogs, birds, bugs, whatever. Go play baseball, football, frisbee. Do whatever "girly" things you can outside. I didn't care. But they were not going to be indoors." Brian and I agree on that subject. It was refreshing to talk to someone else who saw a problem with teaching their children it was okay to be sucked into the mindless drivel on the television, or to play endless rounds of video-games that desensitize them to violence (I know, get off the soap box...but NO, I will not, it's my blog and I can say this if I want to)or to sit in front of a computer that pretends to have answers but doesn't really have good filters. Go outside. Interact with the world. Cut the cords that tether you inside during the sunny blissful days of childhood. Pick flowers. Throw mud. Ride your bike.
The Mimosa went down quickly as we talked more and I felt the drink going to my face, as alcoholic drinks usually do. I am a real lightweight when it comes to drinking and I often finish a drink with my face crimson and heated. I checked my phone for the time and saw that there was approximately a half hour before my flight departed. Even though I was thoroughly enjoying my conversation with Brian, I was anxious to get to my gate as I was fearful of missing my flight (how ironic I would find out later).
Brian got up, shook my hand, and then hugged me. It was nice to talk to someone who got it. Someone who saw how deceptively easy it is to get sucked into a busy life full of nothing. Full of computers, internet shopping and television. Full of empty jobs, oversized empty houses, and devoid of heart.
If Brian was any indication of how my trip was going to be, I was encouraged. Maybe I was making the right decision by going. Maybe it wasn't selfish of me to want to get away for a few days and regroup. Perhaps God had something to say to me and was using Brian to do it. Maybe he had more in store for me. Boy, I couldn't wait to hear it if so.
My five things:
1.) I'm soooo grateful for my sister Cathy
2.) I'm grateful for meeting Brian
3.) I'm grateful for a husband who can support my needs
4.) I'm grateful for possibilities
5.) I'm grateful for renewal
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)