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Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Something To Think About


Quote of the day, according to the 4th grader:

"Mom. Guess what? When your body is naked, it's congruent."

Just a hint-- that means same size, same shape (on both sides). I didn't have the heart to tell her that the older you get, the less true that statement becomes.



Friday, February 22, 2013

Taking Stock


I'm a jumble today. Out of sorts, if you will. The moment my eyes opened this morning, my subconscious decided to take inventory of my life. That never goes well. At least for me.

Here's what it boils down to: I'm sick of doing the same crap I always do. There. I said it. The Husband just might feel the same way about his daily life, but at least he is getting paid. Crap is easier to handle when someone is giving you a paycheck to do it. Just sayin'.

I tried sitting around in my pajamas all morning while looking on Pinterest. I made it until 9:00 am. Last time that happened, I had pneumonia. I just don't feel like doing all the mom stuff I normally do. You know what I'm talking about?

Child #2 broke a shoelace the other day. So, being the good mother that I am, I went to the store In. The. Rain. yesterday to hunt down new ones. I handed them to her this morning and she said, "Oh, no thank you. I think I just want new shoes. Those one's stink." Well, of course.

Child #3 looked at me with disgust this week while stating, "Um. This milk expires IN 2 DAYS!" Apparently, there is an unwritten rule that fresh milk must be available at all times. I wasn't aware.

Maybe I'll just try sitting on the couch today, doing nothing. I haven't really done that before, but it doesn't seem too complicated. Or, I like puzzles. I could do one of those. I'm not really sure what my other options are. What does one do when you're trying to avoid everything that needs to get done? Like buying fresh milk?

I need suggestions. For reals.

I'll just wait right here until you get back to me.


Tuesday, February 19, 2013

The Hills Are Alive


There has been an extreme amount of singing goin' on around here. From Child #2 most specifically. Within the last 2 weeks, I think this girl has sung more than she has spoken. I'm telling you, lots of singing.

On top of regular choir and Region Choir, her advanced group of girls was invited to perform at the music conference in San Antonio. A pretty big deal-io. A super-de-duper huge amount of singing was required for that one. Beautiful stuff, by the way.

She won't sing for me at home. Or really, for anyone. She refuses. I'll catch snippets of her voice when she's upstairs, but that's about all. I've begged, bribed and shamefully threatened bodily injury to try and get her to sing. It's always a 'no'. Most often accompanied with an eye roll. But, I keep trying. I'm nothing if not persistent. Or just stupid.

The music trip occurred last week. 2 days of non-stop stuff. As a bonus, the group took a trip to Austin to visit the Texas Capital. I got a text from one of the chaperones that day telling me that my child was currently rolling down the hill at the Capital.  On purpose. Just because. The sad truth-- I wasn't surprised at all.

I asked her about her jovial tumble once she arrived back home. Apparently the organized tour was "way too boring". She saw the hill and decided to roll. Nice.

Maybe I should try a new angle. Hilltop rolls in exchange for singing for me? Do you think it'll work? Yah, I didn't think so.

 


Friday, February 15, 2013

For When The Small Can Change The World


It's track season. How is this different than cross country season? Instead of running through the woods, they now run on a track in circles. Either way, I'm sitting at an athletic event every week. I've started begging her to become an agoraphobic nerd. Then she'll never want to leave the house. She has sadly informed me it's not gonna happen.

Last week she ran the 2 mile event. Just for your information, that's 8 circles of running. I get tired just watching her. It's a good thing there are bleachers so I can sit and rest.

She and one other girl were the only team members running this event. She told me later that her team mate had moved here recently from a small town. She didn't know many people and she was incredibly nervous. So, they ran. All 8 circles.

Sam crossed the finish line and bent over to catch her breath. She stood for a few seconds and caught my eye. And then, she did the most amazing thing. She started walking back down the track.

Her team mate was the last runner out there. And she was far, far behind. Almost a full lap. So, Sam walked. And walked. Until she reached this girl. And then she started running. With her. All the way to the finish line.

There wasn't any fanfare when these 2 girls crossed the line. Most people had moved on to other things by then. The team coaches were no where to be found. This moment in time went fairly unnoticed. But not to me. My eyes were on this girl with laser precision. She. Moved. Me.

Sam later commented that it "was no big deal". I really don't think she thought much of what she'd done. She seemed to shrug it off as something of ordinary value. When in truth, it was anything but.

Last night I stood at the railing in yet another stadium, watching another 8 circle run. After screaming, "Pump your arms!" as she ran by, a woman appeared next to me. She asked if I was Sam's mom. When I confirmed that I was, she proceeded to explain how moved she was by last week's race. How much of an example Sam had been to her when she ran side-by-side with her team mate. This woman even talked about her on Facebook.

To be honest, I didn't respond to her at first. I don't often get compliments about my kids. So I didn't know how to react. I simply blinked a few times before pulling it together. I was that stunned.

The actions of this 16 year old girl have taught me something. The smallest of moments can be the most extraordinary. The smallest of decisions, the quickest of choices, can change the world. Not the whole world. But someone's. Maybe a lot of someone's.

It lies within us all. That ability to reach out and do good. To be more than our selves. To take the moment to walk back down that track, to reach the one who runs alone. And to run by her side to the finish. Seems to me, that's the perfect kind of race. The kind where winning is determined by what you do with your heart. And by who you truly are.

May we try today to be extraordinary.



Monday, February 11, 2013

How Things Go 'Round Here


"Hey mom, did you know that smelling paint can kill your brain cells?"

Me: "Mmm Hmm."

"Well, you know, you paint a lot."

Me: {squint my eyes and stare}

"How many brain cells do people actually get?"

Me: {still silent and squinting}

"I wonder how many you have left."

Me: I'm betting it's a negative number.

 


Monday, February 4, 2013

Our Version Of Football


I grew up in a house where football and religion were kinda the same thing. It was spoken about with reverence. My brothers played and my dad stood on the sidelines screaming inspired instructions. College life was the first time I can remember living in a space not consumed with football gear and uniforms.

All these years later, I've given birth to all girls and married a pretty farmer who thinks that tennis is wicked cool. Football is nowhere to be found. It's really not even something I think about. Because, when you boil down the sport to the basics, it's simply boys in tights running outside. Ballet on grass. Except everyone smacks each other around to make it more manly.

I realized yesterday, at approximately 1:10 pm, that it was SuperBowl Sunday. I noticed balloons on mailboxes and cars gathered around homes in my neighborhood. Thinking about football parties makes me giggle. Truly. Tons of people gathered around watching the TV, and yelling at the TV, for hours. I'd rather knit an afghan with my feet. Or read a book. Or sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling.

I'm fairly certain that my football viewpoint is rather sacrilegious. My dad would write me a harsh letter (his most severe form of scolding) if he knew I had voiced these kinds of ridiculous thoughts. But there is just something about football I don't get. What's the point of all that running and sweating just to win a ring?

The game was on at my house. The Husband told me that he wanted the 49ers to win because they were "his team". I've known this man for 18 years and I had no idea he even had "a team". That's a little crazy. But, I will admit to watching snippets of the game. The Ravens had the cutest outfits, so of course that's who I wanted to win. Fashion always rules the day.

The halftime show was amazing. I watched Beyonce in all her awesomeness and thought, "Huh. That girl is 10 years younger than me and has done a whole lot more with her life than I have." Maybe I could be just like her if I had a cooler name. Well, and a little talent. Baking great desserts doesn't really make you a superstar.

I've been sitting at my computer for the last hour watching all the SuperBowl commercials. I have laundry waiting and kids that need help getting ready for school, but who cares. I think the commercials are my favorite part of the game. Maybe next year I'll switch things up and have a Commercials Party. When the football game is on, we'll eat cake and play card games. That just might be crazy fun. Let me know if you want an invite. I'll start keeping a list.