April, 2012


26
Apr 12

Selective Attention and Homemade Tea Bags

her pretend tea bags When I brew a cup of tea, Jenny runs over to stand next to my cup.  Her turned-up nose hovers over the steam as she inhales deeply.  She loves the smell of tea but isn’t fond of the taste.  She often asks if she can dunk my tea bag while she watches the hot water take on the soft yellow of Chamomile.  She likes knowing the color comes from flower petals.

I think she’s drawn to the ritual of the process.  She’s fascinated by the little envelopes that hold the dried leaves.  She likes the names of tea:  English Breakfast, Orange Pekoe, Honey Bush, Peppermint and Lemon Zinger.

And so she spent the better part of a sunny afternoon, sitting out on the patio with paper, embroidery floss, staples, tape and markers to make her own tea bags.  Her tea bags contained imaginary dried petals and herbs.

Will and I marveled at how much they looked like real tea bags.  Maybe these were tea bags for baby dolls.  They might be used for a party with imaginary friends.

Jenny served us up some “steaming hot tea” in pastel-colored cups with mismatched saucers.  Will asked for Peppermint.  I chose Earl Grey. Continue reading →


23
Apr 12

So You Say…

So you say… that you wish you could find extra hours in the day to maybe carve out a compost pile in the backyard, learn to play the fiddle or compile all those photos into scrapbooks; yet you never miss an episode of your favorite TV show.

So you say… you’d like to do a better job of keeping in touch with friends, but there’s never enough time after work, homework, laundry and dinner, especially with the time you spend on Facebook every night.

So you say… you could cut back on hours at work, if only you could get your budget under control, while spending every Saturday at the mall looking for something to fill the void.

So you say… you’ll be able to slow the family pace a bit, right after the next session of swim lessons.  Oh, but there’s another season of soccer coming up and junior has to take soccer with all his buddies.

So you say… you’re going to take this minimalist lifestyle thing seriously, once you buy the shelving to organize all the stuff in storage. Continue reading →


18
Apr 12

It Isn’t Fair But It Is Good


We’d gone in search of lavender fleece.  We came home with jewelry making supplies, three unpainted birdhouses in need of jazz, and half a yard of turquoise fleece for, “You know, mom….  more projects.”

The idea was that each of us would paint a birdhouse.

Will and Jen are coming out of that blissful phase of thinking everything they do is fantastic.  They are starting to compare their creations to others.  But for right now they still relish the act of creating.  That means they get out the paints, sit down on the floor and go to it.

Without a plan.

Without first sketching, erasing, sketching again or starting over. Continue reading →


15
Apr 12

Narcissism – The Crux of the Matter

Me:  “He’s demonstrated that he is more than willing to put in the time.  When other kids his age beg to play Xbox, he searches the internet for tips on golf swings.  Clearly, this is one of his top three passions – it may be the thing he is most passionate about.  We’ve been told by a couple instructors that he is blessed with some natural talent.  We don’t spend money on soccer or baseball or football or guitar or karate.  I really think it’s time we get him some lessons and support him in this thing he loves.”

Him:  “My parents never did that for me.”


13
Apr 12

Time Out

self-care at its finestThe rainy grey skies gave her permission to sink into the couch.

Leaks were collecting in metal bowls that ran the length of the soggy carpet.  She had lined the bowls with paper towels to mute the ping ping as the drips accelerated.

The ping pings soon turned to sploosh splooshes.

The kids would be gone for four hours.

The basket next to the fire was stocked with wood. The fire peaked at her through the glass, giving her its permission. Continue reading →


10
Apr 12

When Enough Is Enough

She could remember when seeing his name in her Inbox made her heart race with excitement.  Now seeing his name in her Inbox made her palms sweat.  She let the cursor hover over his name.  She didn’t want to click to open his email.

She’d have to decide what to write back.

Did she even want to write back?

Being nice was her thing.  She’d been supportive.  She’d been there.  She’d listened and responded.

Was there anything positive coming out of this relationship?  If this was positive, why did it feel bad?

Were there healthier places to invest this energy?

Was she opening and answering emails because she was afraid there wouldn’t be another to come along.

She closed her laptop and stared out the window at the park.

__________

Her daughter came up and said, “Mom…  are you interruptible?  Can I ask you something?”

She looked into her daughter’s blue eyes and found the answer she’d been looking for:

Would she – one day – want her kids to
pin their hopes on this kind of relationship?

 

She opened her laptop and deleted his email before opening it.


5
Apr 12

Perspective

Cabernet and Cheaters are my middle age toolsMy breathing is loud.  I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.  I can’t remember if this is the sixth or seventh lap.

Does it even matter how many times I climb this hill, just as long as I get out here and move?

I get to the top and survey the river.  Through the pounding I hear my thoughts:

  • You are reaching for the cheaters more than you used to.
  • Maybe it’s age that keeps you from remembering how many times you’ve walked up the hill.
  • Remember when your ass was below your waist and not behind your knees?
  • You ought to have given more thought to what it would be like to physically keep up with two young kids at the age of 50.
  • When did you get to the age where  Mom Jeans are comfortable?
  • Isn’t it time to  consider coloring your hair?

I head down the hill and wonder if this upcoming birthday could quietly sneak away in the night without anyone in my family doing anything about it.  Through huffs and puffs, I laugh at myself because I know it’s not so much about the day, as it is about my perceptions of what it’s like to be turning 50. Continue reading →


2
Apr 12

He Might Be A Narcissist If …

… before you were married, he said flattering things about the way you dressed and the clever way you put yourself together.  After marriage, he tells you how he never liked boots with skirts, and that you shouldn’t wear your hair short because it makes your face look full.

… he refuses to suggest that you spend a day doing something you’ve been talking about – something he knows you’ve been dying to do – until you beg him to go with you.

… he spends more time getting ready in the morning than you.  His lotions and potions take up more space in the bathroom than your creams, and he often smells more fragrant than you.

… before marriage he was convinced you did everything perfectly.   Now that you’ve been married for eight months you’ve mysteriously forgotten how to cook an egg, sweep a floor, make a proper bed or keep the car tidy.

… he says you spend too much time reading and not enough time watching the stuff he likes on T.V. Continue reading →