“What I’d like to know is how old does a person have to bebefore they get to do all the fun stuff?” - R L LaFevers, Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos
“One of you grab the iPad and look up stele. Check out the images.” Continue reading →
“What I’d like to know is how old does a person have to be“One of you grab the iPad and look up stele. Check out the images.” Continue reading →
“Mom, didn’t you say you were going to take us to a play about Camelot?” Continue reading →
I am a work in progress and so is this blog.
First, some chronology to set the stage:
5 1/2 years ago - Stuff three boxes, buckle two young kids into car seats, leave husband, nice house, financially secure future, perpetual stomach aches and nicest yard* I’ll ever tend. Continue reading →
I have a choice.
I could wake this morning, annoyed that winter is on its way, and I’ll soon be shoveling walks and hauling firewood; or I could appreciate the built-in exercise routine that doesn’t require a monthly health club fee.
I could be angry that I am a single mom with full responsibility for raising two kids by myself; or I could appreciate how fortunate I am that they are with me 98 percent of the time.
I could be missing the much nicer house we used to live in, and the lack of money worries; or I could appreciate that this home is full of love and comfort, and my kids have learned valuable lessons that come from living within our means.
I could be annoyed by the mess from the English Muffins and coffee makings; or I could appreciate that they can make their own breakfast, and make me a cup while they’re at it.
I could be anxious that I’m single and 49; or I could revel in the sheer joy of being single and 49.
I could be worried about what the future holds, and whether I’ll benefit from the choices I’m making; or I could trust that the level of contentment I see in the three of us is a good indication that we are headed in the right direction.
I could be cranky about having started a bathroom remodel when I know next to nothing about such things; or I could turn this into a homeschool project where all three of us learn in the process.
I could bark at the kids when I can’t handle the mess; or I could acknowledge that this is their house, too, and gently ask them to help when I feel overwhelmed.
__________
I could choose to see what is wrong in our life and our choices; or I could choose to see what is right.
I can choose to wake with a positive attitude and greet my two with a smile and a kind voice that gets the day off to a good start.
I have a choice.
*Thank you, Kate. ;)
She dipped another bite of chicken in ketchup, and stared out the window.
I could see she was contemplating something, but I asked, “Are you going to take that bite?”
She put the fork down and got off her stool. Then, in uncharacteristic fashion, she picked up the stool and slammed it on the floor five times. She sat back down and said, “There!”
I looked at Will to gauge his reaction. This wasn’t like Jenny at all.
“Um, Jen… what was that about?”
“I’m just frustrated with dad. I’m tired of crying. Eight year old girls shouldn’t pout, it’s embarrassing, so I figured I’d slam my stool a few times. I do feel a little better, except look at all the junk on the floor from slamming the stool. Sorry about that.”
_____
I could have launched into another of my “motivating” talks about how feelings are important.
blah blah blah blah blah
I’m tired of hearing myself say the same things over and over again. I have to think they are tired of hearing the same things, too.
So I acknowledged her frustrations. I let her calm herself down. I think I said something wise like, “That sucks, doesn’t it?”
We finished dinner and went outside to skateboard, draw on the sidewalk with chalk, laugh at the cat and walk the hill.
_____
The next morning we eased into home school in our most favorite way – I read a couple chapters to them.
This is the pearl we uncovered that morning:
“… your pain, like all you feel, is great. Yet I fear that instead of stepping through your pain, as you and I have stepped through many a marsh, you have let it cling to you, like the blood-thirsty tick that rides our backs for months on end.” –Eremon, the stag
Therein lies the power in storytelling.
“Mom, will you help me make a bunch of paper airplanes? I’m making an Army of Love.” Jenny showed me how to fold the paper, told me the color order and where the gas tank went, and we made 13 paper jets. As we were folding and coloring and giggling and talking of paper cuts, I asked her how she came up with the idea. “I dunno,” she said. “It’s a good idea. I think they should fly over the world dropping candy hearts, like little love bombs.” Continue reading →
*YCMTSU – You Can’t Make This Shit Up
One night in August of 2009 I was sitting cross-legged on our purple love seat with the laptop on the cushion next to me. I’d been writing on this blog for a couple weeks, and I realized I needed to name the characters. Continue reading →
At 2:00 a.m., those voices in my head can be pretty loud. Continue reading →
There was tech-decking at 2:30 a.m. There were empty cans of Coke on every table, hot chili pepper eating contests, loudest burp contests, and soggy ski pants, mittens, hats, and sweatshirts strewn from one end of the house to the other. Continue reading →
We made Spritz Cookies on Sunday. They’re my favorite Christmas Cookie, and my brother’s, too. And now, they are Jenny’s favorite. Continue reading →