Flooding, Family and Faith

The title words pretty much sum up the past few weeks around here. I worried and cried about a repeat flood of 1997, family and friends told me to have faith in our dikes, the families of our four siblings in the Fargo/Moorhead area sandbagged and sandbagged and came through this first crest pretty much intact, Dave's sister Roberta and three of her kids stayed with us for a week while her husband and two oldest sandbagged even more, and eight of us piled into the suburban and supported Lucy as she met with the priest and completed the sacrament of first reconciliation.

There were a few other happenings too - the girls performed some dances at Artwise, we caved in and bought a Wii, John got pnemonia, Sophie joined me and Nancy Devine on a trip to Washington D.C. to lobby for the National Writing Project, I laughed so hard I peed my pants at Nancy's escapades with a D.C. Newfoundland , John's godfather, Jeff, cooked some terrific steaks for us and took us to Mt. Vernon, Sophie read two books in one day while we traveled home, Roberta helped Lucy organize her bedroom and closet (Yeah!), John got better and better with the latest round of antibiotics even as Dave got sick, we got to see Carmyn's newly remodeled and redecorated apartment and I learned how to make crosses out of palms.

Everyone is in bed - Dave still with a fever - I've finished a blog entry for the first time in a while and now I'm going to finish reading my latest book, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. Good night everyone!

They're growing up

Seven-year-old John recently lost his first tooth. Overall it was a pretty non-traumatic event as he figured out he had a loose tooth one Saturday morning, he spent all day wiggling it, and by bedtime, it was out and the tooth fairy was on her way.

It went by so fast – I didn’t have time to prepare for it. With Lucy a tooth can be loose for months before she’ll get up the courage to pull it out – and even then it’s with lots of drama and by the time it’s out she’s lost a tooth and I’ve lost my patience. Sophie is pretty nonchalant now but when she was younger we had to coach her through it. With her first one she let Dave take the pliers to it but after that she wanted to do it all on her own.

Over the last twelve years there have been lots of firsts, seconds and thirds. And usually I’m fine with it all – I was excited for Sophie’s first steps, Lucy’s first words, and John’s first bed. I was happy to send Sophie off for her first day of Kindergarten, then Lucy and then John – there weren’t any tears shed by me for any of the kids. But this first tooth thing took me by surprise – after the tooth fairy had put the $1 bill under the glass that held the tooth, I shed a little tear.

Maybe it’s because Dave was out of town, maybe it’s because I was starting to get sick, or maybe it was because the kids had all been sick and I was tired – but actually I don’t think it was for any of those reasons. I think it had everything to do with the fact our kids are getting older and there won’t be any more losing of the first tooth at our house. We’re done – we’ve passed that milestone and we won’t see it again – until grandchildren start losing teeth.

The thing is, I wonder why this hit me so hard when other major events haven’t. Is it that our life has finally slowed down enough that there are times during the day when I actually have time to drink my coffee and just think? I have to admit that having three kids and one miscarriage in four years meant there was a whole lot of blurring of our days and nights but I must have still had some time to think and process, right?!!?

I don’t know the answer but I do know it hit me hard that all our kids are growing up – by July Sophie will be able to babysit, Lucy will hit double-digits on her next birthday, and John will be in second grade. The grade I used to teach and when I was teaching I certainly never thought of those second-graders as little ones.

My plan on coping with all this: sit back, grab a cup of coffee and give a kid a hug every chance I get. Oh, and I guess there might be a tear or two shed along the way.

PG 13 for a Reason

Last night Mom and I went to the video store because I had it in my head that we (as in me, Dave, Sophie, Lucy John, and Mom and Dad) should all watch Ghost Town. In February I watched it all by myself when Dave was away on a trip and loved it. So much so I actually recommended it to quite a few people - including our wonderfully wholesome dentist.

Mom and I found the DVD at the store but I was surprised to see it was rated PG13. I racked my brains trying to figure out why - I didn't recall any nudity or violence. There was that one scene in the beginning of the story where a man is talking to his wife on the phone and we slowly figure out he's a jerk and is having an affair with a young woman named Amber. I took a minute and thought about what the kids would think and decided that the movie, as a whole, was worth it. I couldn't think of any other scenes I might object to so we got it and put it in.

Well, once the movie was playing it didn't take more than three minutes for me to see why it was rated PG13 - there was a major cuss word right in the beginning of it. I jumped when I heard it and looked at Mom who raised her eyebrows at me. We kept watching - my first mistake.

Then there was the part where there's talk of a mummy's private parts. We kept watching - my second mistake. (Oh wait - can it be a second mistake if I'd already made it once?!!)

There were various references to women, body parts, and lots of muttered expletives. Each time I jumped or coughed or made some other noise to try to drown out the movie. My final cough sequence, the one that came immediately before I told the kids they couldn't watch anymore, was so loud and lasted so long that Lucy asked me to be quiet so she could hear the movie.

They put up a fuss about having to leave. I tucked them in and as they lay on their air mattresses at Grama and Papa's I explained that I'd made a bad choice in ignoring the PG13 rating. And that even though I truly felt the overall message of the movie is an important one to learn, the movie itself was certainly not appropriate for them to watch. I summed up the movie for them - trying my very best at storytelling while all the while knowing I couldn't compete with the Hollywood version.

And then I hugged them and kissed them and said good night - all the while kicking myself for not heeding the PG13 warning.

So I've apoligised to our children - now what do I say to our dentist?!

He's heading to Lovejoy Drive

So last night I'm in an overheated room curled in a ball on the couch covered in two blankets and wishing my throat would stop throbbing. Dave is sitting in the Big Chair getting ready for his trip to Indiana - every few seconds I hear him state a destination into his new TomTom (a portable GPS device). The first few times he says something I grunt "What?" This goes on until I realize he's not actually talking to me. So I start to zone out again and in my cough-medicine induced haze I hear the following: County Road 39....Lincolnway....Jefferson Road...Lovejoy Drive...

I perk my ears, sit up and give him a look as in "Where exactly do you think you are going?"

He smirks and we both crack up. Can you imagine being the CFO of the company that is actually housed on Lovejoy Drive? I'm sure they've heard it all. But last night, in the middle of feeling sorry for ourselves and our sick kids, it gave Dave and me a much needed laugh.

Sick Germs

We fly to Arizona on Friday and I'm already a bit nervous. My nervousness has nothing to do with flying and everything to do with all the germs we're more than likely going to pass on to all the other passengers and crew members. Sophie has been coughing like crazy for over two weeks and now John has started. Lucy just finished up antibiotics yesterday but now both Dave and I are feeling pretty awful with sore throats, headaches and general aches.

So I called the doctor today and tried to get three of us in. Unfortunately there was only one slot left in the entire clinic - with any doctor or any nurse practitioner. I nabbed the single appointment for Sophie and made a seperate appointment for me for tomorrow. My plan is that if our doctor doesn't think antibiotics will help Sophie, then they probably won't help John either. I've already increased his advair to twice a day and we'll take the nebulizer to AZ with us, just in case. We'll keep pumping Sophie full of expectorant for her cough.

As far as Dave and I - we'll go with the same plan except for totally different symptons. It's one of those things - I don't really think we need antibiotics but I sure would feel bad if it turns out we should have had them and we needlessly exposed all the other passengers and grandparents to our germs.

So wish us well at the appointments - and steer away from our part of the country if you can.

Tastebuds or Funny Little Bump Things

Over lunch Dave and I were discussing the bumps you get on your tongue every once in awhile. You know what I mean - the little red bumps that are sort of like a cankersore but on your tongue. I said I thought it was a new tastebud growing in and he called it "a funny little bump thing." So who was right?

Apparently neither one of us, or both of us - depending upon how you look at it.

They are actually inflamed papillae - where the taste buds are. According to this site, the bumps are an injury caused by hot food or drink or a self-inflicted bite. Which totally makes sense for me as I had a two-hour dentist appointment followed by a few more hours of a numb cheek and tongue last Thursday.

So, Dave was right in that they are indeed funny little bump things and I was somewhat correct in that they had to do with the tastebuds. And there you have it - new, useless information for you to share with others as you see fit.

Musical Discover: Car Horns

After yesterday's post I wanted to do a bit of research about car horns. But this is far more interesting material - go to Car Horn Organ and click on the green link to the right of the page "Hear the Car Horn Organ." Then, if you want to hear more music, go to the middle of the page and listen to "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" as played by the car horn organ. You're sure to laugh out loud.

Car Horns and the Bird

I'm not a horn tooter. In fact, before I hit the horn in any car I think about my actions. Of course, this overthinking can be a bit dangerous as that split second could be the difference between getting hit by another car or avoiding a collision. But I can't help it - I think horns are rude.

It seems there should be three different tunes on a car horn - one for an urgent warning as in "Let's avoid having an accident," one for "The light has turned green, it's time to stop talking to your passenger and start going," and one for "Hey Jodi, the mail carrier, how are you doing?" Notice I don't think there should be a rude tune - but that goes back to how I think our society, in general, has become overtly rude and immature in recent years.

Which brings me to yesterday's horn event. I was driving Dave's monster suburban and was second in line at a busy stoplight. The driver in front of me was enthusiastically engaged in conversation with his passenger and frankly, my mind was also otherwise engaged as I was thinking I should join Dave on his upcoming trip to Acalpulco (another story).

The stoplight turned green and the driver in front of me was still engaged in conversation. I waited and counted to three, looked in the rearview mirror at a long line of cars, and raised my hand to the horn and paused ... should I or shouldn't I? I looked again and the driver was still talking to his passenger, oblivious to the green light.

So I tapped the horn and a short toot emerged from somewhere under the trunk of the car. The driver looked up, started going and just as I was congratulating myself on a successful honk, flipped me the bird.

I was shocked. I raised my hands in a "What's that all about gesture?!" and proceeded to follow the driver as he turned into a strip mall. I wanted to explain myself - that if I could have done a polite honk, I certainly would have, but there was no need to flip me off. I'm not a honker for goodness sakes.

I followed him the length of the strip mall - at which point I remembered I was in Dave's enormous, could-be-perceived-as-menacing suburban. And the bird thrower wasn't stopping anyways, he kept going through the mall parking lot.

So I turned the car around and drove home, taking the back roads, just to be safe. When I told Dave the story he just looked at me, shook his head and said, "Do you have do to that kind of stuff when you're driving my car?!"

On cold days my office is...

HERE!

The fire has been going since before lunch and, as you can see, I've got a nice stack of wood that should last me into the night. A fire always beats the space heater in my regular office - go ahead, bring on the cold.

Let's be a bit more mature...

What's wrong with us that we can't respect the presidency? Read this, laugh if you want, but then take a step back and think about how immature supposedly mature people can be.

I felt the same way at the 2001 inauguration when Dave and I were in the crowd with a group of friends. When the voice over the loudspeaker announced President Clinton's car the crowd booed and booed and booed. Some of our friends even booed and I think they were taken aback with me when I scolded them and told them to at least respect the office - you may not agree with the man (or hopefully, someday, woman) holding the office but please, please don't boo or throw shoes.

And by the way, I voted for Obama. Don't think I'm disgusted because I'm a sore loser.

Radiator Warmth

There's nothing quite like sliding your hand into the warmth of a mitten that's been sitting on a radiator.  Unless it's putting on a hat that's been sitting on a radiator.  Or maybe if it's the feeling of dipping your feet into the warmth of boots that have been sitting at the bottom of a radiator.

We've got two radiators by the back door and from November until mid-April they're constantly covered in hats, mittens, gloves and sometimes scarves.  Our radiator habit started at the old house when the kids were small.  After an afternoon of playing outside they'd come in with wet hats,mittens,scarves, coats and snowpants - and all that outside gear went right on top of the eight foot long radiator in the living room or the four foot one in the dining room.  In no time at all everything would be dry and ready to be hung up again.

But when we moved here four years ago things changed.  The longest radiator in the house measures only three feet and is in John's bedroom so coats and snowpants now go in the dryer to dry while the hats and gloves go on top of the two radiators by the back door.  It always looks like a mess in that back hall but all I need to do to take my mind off it is slide my cold hands into a pair of mittens and the mess is forgotten.

To Done List: January 12, 2008

Remember my friend Corby's to done list idea? The object is to feel a sense of accomplishment from what you got done during the day rather than focus on what didn't get done.

So here's today's list - not as extensive as others but keep in mind I spent two - count 'em TWO - hours on the phone today with Mom and Theresa.

1. Stripped three beds at 817.
2. Washed sheets, towels and bath rug from 817.
3. Made up the beds.
4. Edited flyers for Davey-baby to take with him on his trip to Philadelphia.
5. Emailed flyer to Kinko's.
6. Purchased Christmas postcards and Reindeer finger puppets at Kinko's while I waited for the flyers to print.
7. Booked a flight to Edmonton to visit Theresa and her family.
8. Picked up asthma meds for John.
9. Mailed letters for Dave.
10. Deposited checks for Dave.
11. Kept the kitchen clean.
12. Walked to the greenway with Dakota and went cross-country skiing.
13. Sat on a chair in my office with my feet up, space heater on and blanket covering me for two hours - and talked on the phone.
14. Bought $42 worth of makeup - $42 worth!!! - for Sophie for the Cinderella ballet this weekend. Do you realize I haven't spent $42 on makeup for myself over the last three years put together?!?!
15. Picked up Sophie, Lucy and John from school.
16. Sent John off to a playdate with Oliver.
17. Fed Sophie and Lucy snack while we practiced putting makeup on Sophie.
18. Told Sophie she looks more beautiful without makeup than with it on - at least the way I'm able to put it on.
19. Put Lucy's hair in a bun.
20. Took Lucy to ballet.
21. Helped John look for his hockey sock - never did find it.
22. Told a neighbor she could use the suburban to pick up her husband whose car stalled by the Canadian border.
23. Heated up leftovers - fed everyone.
24. Went with Dave, Sophie, and John to drop John off at hockey practice.
25. Dropped Sophie off at ballet practice.
26. Picked up Lucy from ballet.
27. Fed Lucy in the car.
28. Picked up copies from Kinko's. Dave left me there while he got John - hence the extra buying splurge mentioned in #6.
29. Dropped off John and Lucy at the climbing wall for climbing lessons.
30. Shopped at KMart with Dave - vitamins and mittens for the kids.
31. Took Dave home so he could rest before his 4:40 am flight.
32. Watched the last of John and Lucy's climbing lesson - took some pics.
33. Asked the kids how proud we would have been of them and their listening if we would have been there. Unfortunately their answers left something to be desired - we'll try again next week.
34. Dropped off John and Lucy at home with Dave.
35. Watched the last of Sophie's ballet practice.
36. Drove Sophie home.
37. Made her some peanut butter toast and kissed her goodnight.
38. Sat with Dave for a few minutes.
39. Talked with our neighbors about their car - not good news for them.
40. Kissed the sleeping kids goodnight.
41. Checked my email for the first time today.
42. Wrote this blog entry...
and now I'm ready for bed.

If you made it this far, thanks for listening and keep in mind most afternoons and evenings here on Belmont Road are not like this.

No quiet lunch date...

An hour and twenty minutes into our lunch date (yes, how we do enjoy our long lunches) Margaret, Michelle and I were startled by a loud crack followed by shattering glass of the bakery window. We looked to our side and the window to the bakery was shattered, there was a man on the ground on the sidewalk and two cars were parked side-by-side on the street. From the next few minutes I remember some of what happened, while other events I can't. I remember being at the front door of the bakery, seeing the bicyclist, with a "What the h---" look on his face, starting to get up. I thought, "He'll be OK," and then kept looking around. Then I remember the sound of the car engine still revving, and saw the driver with his head back - passed out. I clearly remember thinking, "I can't go in front of the car because it's still going." So I ran behind it and opened his door - surprised it was unlocked. Yet his car was parallel to a small SUV parked in the street and I couldn't open the door all the way, let alone squeeze in to turn off the car. By this time there were others on the passenger side of the car. With my right hand I tried to feel a pulse on the driver's neck and with my left I pushed every button I could trying to get the other door unlocked so the others could get in to help the man. I remember being surprised at how smooth and nice and warm the man's neck felt. By this time, an older man was behind me and yelled for people to call 911. It felt like ten minutes had already gone by and I couldn't feel the man's pulse and all I was doing with my left hand was moving the car windows up and down. It was so quiet. The man behind me said, "Let me try," so I moved out of the way and let him in. I went to the passenger side and tried to break the window open. A man jumped on the hood of the car and tried to kick in that window and I remember thinking, "The driver's mouth is open, you don't want glass to get in his mouth." Another man used some kind of tool on the passenger window and said, "Watch out." I turned around so I wouldn't get hit by glass but nothing happened. I heard someone say, "Two pushes, one breath... two pushes one breath," under his breath and then yell, "I know CPR; I can do CPR." When I turned back around I went to the second car, the one that was parked in the street parallel to the incapacitated one and got in. The older man was still trying to help the driver and was right in between the two cars and I thought, "I should tell him so he isn't surprised when the car moves, but is it worth the time it'll take? Yes, I don't want to run him over," so I got back out and told him I was going to move the car. He said, "Good idea." I got back in. It was a stick shift. Crap. "I can do this, it should be old hat," I thought. But then I saw there weren't any keys in the car. I got back out and the owner of the car was right there and said, "Should I move it?" I replied, "Yeah, that'd be great." Then a woman driving by yelled, "My husband is a cardiologist - he's having lunch in there." So I headed to the bakery to get him, wondering why he wasn't already out there. Then I heard her say, "Oh, he's in the car already." So I went back into the bakery - to Michelle and Margaret and got wrapped up in a hug. The bicyclist was sitting at a table and was worried about his bike - it was indeed pretty mangled - but he looked OK. We went back to our table and stood there. All I could think was that I couldn't find a pulse on the man's neck and that in this whole time (which Michelle said was probably only two minutes) the man hadn't moved at all. The ambulance got there, the police were there and firemen were there. The bakery staff was cleaning up the glass that had fallen all over the two-top right below the window. We watched the ambulance crew undo the man's shirt and do something - he sort of jerked. Then they carried him off to the ambulance, one person had his legs and another his armpits. I started crying again, assuming he was dead. But nobody really seemed to know. We bussed our table, put our coats on and walked the block to the car - our voices shaking talking about what just happened.

There - that's my perspective on the events. You can read about the incident here (look for Pole Crashes Through Bakery)and get a better picture of the whole scene.

I can't stop thinking about it - about how everything I tried to do failed and how that short time seemed like ten, even twenty minutes. Did I make things worse by trying to help? Yet it wasn't a conscious decision to go out there. Why couldn't I find the damn door lock? Throughout the whole thing, I think the only words I spoke were, "I'll move the car," and "That'd be great." My mind was totally clear - almost white - yet my thoughts were racing. Instinct certainly took over - yet I had moments of clear thoughts. I noticed the handicapped sticker tucked to the driver's right side, the cane that sat on the passenger floor at a diagonal so the driver could easily grab it. The radio wasn't on, the car was warm and the driver was warm. But no pulse - at least not that I could feel. When Margaret dropped me off at home I went to Dave and made him sit while I tried to find his pulse - and was somewhat reassured when I couldn't find his pulse either. Then, I watched the 5:00 news, then the 6:00 news and finally the 10:00 news - the 81-year-old driver was in critical condition, but he was alive. And I felt helpless - no thanks to me was he alive. I tried to help - oh how I tried - but nothing I did seemed to work. People have said, "Maybe you spurred others to action." or "You tried..." but I still get shaky when I think about it and my heart starts pounding. If something like this happens again and instinct takes over I hope I remember something else - take a deep breath and slow down... and I'll have a better chance of finding the damn door lock.

Who am I?

I'm in a reflective mood and trying to figure out all the hats I wear. I feel like it's all one gigantic juggling act and I really never was any good at juggling. So I'll do what I do best - make a list. Here goes:

mom to Sophie, Lucy and John, wife to Dave, daughter, daughter-in-law, granddaughter, sister, sister-in-law, friend, outreach coordinator for the Red River Valley Writing Project (RRVWP), conference organizer, book club organizer, teacher study group organizer, consultant for RRVWP, memo writer, volunteer reader at elementary school, volunteer writing workshop teacher in Sophie's class, wanna-be writer, author of four manuscripts - all only 1/3 done, newly appointed co-chair of Children's Writer's Conference, reader, quilter, friend, cooker of meals that no one in this household likes, painter (of walls, not canvases), general contractor of the house next door - by default, online shopper, planner, bathroom scrubber, sweeper, movie watcher, cross country skier, Curves member, always wanting to lose weight woman, blabbermouth, crier, yeller, classical music lover, organizer, baker, grocery shopper, magazine reader, three blankets at night woman, problem solver, muller, communicator, bread lover, phone talker, sleep lover, kid driver, swimmer, basketball player, party planner, coffee drinker, pear pie eater, listener, talker.

There you go - what's your list look like?

Less list guilt...

Yesterday Mary had a wonderful brainstorm - rather than make to do lists, make to done lists. She explains it all here, complete with her to done list for the day. So, here's my to done list for today:
-reminded Sophie to take a snack to school
-was rewarded with a smile and a thumbs-up sign
-called Kay at school to tell her Lucy was still sick and would be staying home with me again today
-pushed the button for oven self-cleaning
-scrubbed oven racks clean
-make tofu chili for lunch
-made homemade bread using Charlotte's recipe (see recipe and bread above)
-made parmesan noodles for Lucy
-took some chili and bread over to Charlotte to have for supper
-cleaned the microwave
-spent 45 minutes on the phone trying to get people paid for writing project stuff
-spent 20 minutes before the phone call fretting about it and trying to figure out a more efficient system for getting people paid
-returned a phone call to one of the teachers who hasn't been paid
-spoke to the librarian's assistant about the fact that fourth graders can only check out books once/week (silly rule as far as I'm concerned) and asked about policy to not let kids check out books if they talk during library time (another silly rule, my opinion)
-made note to myself that I need to talk to the librarian about this on Monday
-confirmed parents who will read to K-3rd graders every morning before school, shared the list with the teacher at the school who is in charge of this
-thanked Anna for picking up 16 cool glass snack plates/cups for $25 at the Arc
-took those same 16 snack plates/cups to Theresa's for her desert night next week (she'll have to wash them - ha!)
-emailed reminders to writing project book club members
-shared a bakery caramel roll with Theresa
-dropped off Sophie's violin to be restrung
-just remembered that I need to pick up the violin
.... to be continued later (after I pick up the violin!)

Music to Hug By...

On Saturday night Dave and I were in the kitchen doing last-minute prep for dinner company. I was in the mood for some music and asked him to put in the Archies CD a friend burned for the kids. I was a little surprised (knowing Dave and all his conservative Republicanness) when the Dixie Chicks started playing instead of the Archies. I didn't tell him of his mistake - just enjoyed the music and the little joke played on him.

But when my favorite song came on, the one that makes me think of Dave every single time I hear it, tears came to my eyes. The refrain is just so perfect for the two of us:

and i come to find a refuge in the
easy silence that you make for me
it's okay when there's nothing more to say to me
and the peaceful quiet you create for me
and the way you keep the world at bay for me
the way you keep the world at bay

So, I went over to where he was cutting up some cheese, wrapped my arms around him and told him that he put in the Dixie Chicks instead of the Archies (he stiffened at that) but that this particular song reminds me of him. He laughed, turned around and saw the tears in my eyes. He didn't say a word, not a single word, just kept hugging me and the moment was perfect.

The entire lyrics can be found here, but really, you need to listen to the whole song and then go out and buy the CD because it's just that good.

Paper or Plastic?

In my desire to help the environment, I've decided to use canvas bags for all my shopping needs. That way there are a few less bags heading to the landfill. My trouble has been that I have an assortment of 6 bags that are in the car but whenever I go into a store I forget them. And once I'm in Leevers with three kids, I'm highly unlikely to drag the entourage back out to the car and retrieve them.

But I'm proud to say that the other night I finally remembered! Unfortunately, the check-out experience did not start out well. The conversation went like this...

Me: I've got these bags to use, where would be the easiest place to put them so we can bag the groceries?
Clerk: [sigh] You can bag them yourself, otherwise you need to wait until I ring every thing up and then I'll start bagging them.
Me: OK, I can bag, let me empty the cart first. (As I empty, I notice a box of cereal has been opened, so I tell her I don't want it. Another big sigh as she takes it from me.) Um, can someone get me another one, or should I run get it?
Clerk: Go get it, this is going to take awhile. (As I turn to leave I see another clerk has come to help her start bagging. This clerk smiles and says, "You have your own bags -what should I put in them first? The vegetables?" I nod and say that would be great and run off to the cereal aisle.)

By the time I get back the original clerk has done a complete 360 - no more attitude, no more sighs and both clerks are smiling. The second clerk says, "More and more people are bringing in their own bags, I think it's a wonderful idea." The first clerk comments that she always asks for paper instead of plastic because she reuses them for all sorts of things. We all helped finish bagging and at the end the first clerk gave me a smile and said, "Have a great night!"

So, what happened in the few minutes I ran to get the new box of cereal? Obviously something did, the change in the clerk's attitude was vastly improved when I came back. I'm not sure what was said, but it was done in a way that didn't make the clerk mad, but let her see that it was, in fact, important to be respectful of the choices people make. I applaud the woman who stepped in to bag groceries and the way she handled the situation... if only all bosses and co-workers could do the same.

Coffee Philosophy

Today at my (almost) weekly coffee date with Karen we both found ourselves with tears in our eyes after a simple statement made by a Bolivian acquaintance, Roger. When Karen commented on how often he and his wife Galia have coffee together after dropping off their youngest son at school, he said something like, “But if we don’t, then I don’t get to see her until evening.” The thing is, he was genuine; he was serious – not trying to score points with Galia or Karen. This hit both of us deeply – as evidenced by the tears. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think it is a cultural thing. Some couples just do always seem so “together” - in the manner of love songs even. Are these the people that are soul mates? What defines soul mates from people in love with one another? Are soul mates always soul mates or do they go through rough patches?

Roger's comment reminds me of one of my favorite songs by Jack Johnson, Banana Pancakes. One section is, "…we got everything we need right here. And everything we need is enough. Just so easy when the whole world fits inside of your arms."

Whenever I hear the words, I get all mushy on the inside – the whole world fits inside of your arms. Wouldn’t our world be a better place if that’s what we all reached for, desired in our lives? So, today, take that significant other out for some coffee because you know what, otherwise you won’t get to see him or her until evening.

Bad Mood

I've been in a bad mood for a very long time - so long that I know it can't be due to any hormones (or lack thereof), allergies, or being overtired. I'm afraid it's become part of who I am - a part of me I can certainly live without (and I'm sure Dave feels the same).

So, what kinds of things are bothering me that don't usually create that "C'mon people! Think!" feeling? Rather than bombard you with daily blog entries ranting or raving, I made a List. Here it is, but please read it with caution and know that many of the things on the list don't normally bother me.

1. Sending reminder emails (yes, I know I've already ranted about this one.)
2. Getting calls on my cell phone when most people that actually have that number know I never, ever actually have it on.
3. Business phone calls on the weekend.
4. People using their blinker to make a lane change and then forgetting to turn it off.
5. Barking dogs (OK, you're right, they always bother me.)
6. Making supper - especially when, on any given night, only two people will actually eat it.
7. Washing clothes, drying clothes, folding clothes, and then starting all over the next day.
8. Sneezing twenty times in a row.
9. Peeing my pants after the fourth sneeze.
10. Putting kids' hair up in buns for ballet recital night - no matter how long their hair is I can never get it to stay in for the duration of the recital.
11. People talking during ballet recitals.
12. People texting during ballet recitals.
13. The overabundance of treats, gifts and flowers given to ballet dancers as young as three. (You should have seen some of the presents for the dancers.)
14. People asking for advice but then ignoring it.
15. Trying to find the right change for a babysitter.
16. People who wear fragrant lotion and don't shower before they enter the pool for lap swimming.
17. Cell phones.
18. Salespeople who don't trust you when you say you don't have the receipt but that you can name the date you bought the outfit and know you paid full price for it. (By the way, I did go home, find the sales receipt and did, ultimately, return the blouse and necklace for a total refund of $64 vs. the $32 offered.)
19. People who have made it necessary for stores not to trust their customers.
20. People who are always in a bad mood.

Yep, I know I totally fit that last one. I think I've spent more time apoligizing to people in the last few days than any other activity. I'm trying, I really am, to get out of this funk but am having trouble. So, if you have any "surefire" ways to get out of a bad mood - methods that last more than a few minutes, please let me know. I promise I'll give ALL suggestions a try... well maybe I'll do a little screening of suggestions since I'm sure I know one thing Dave would say to try!

Reminders (Note: This is a rant!)

Yesterday I had a regular (as Carmyn called it) "sh--fit" regarding sending email reminders to people. I refuse to do so but as this refusal has bit me in the butt a few times I guess I should reconsider my stance on email reminders. Just so you know, here’s my stance:

You are a professional. You signed up to be a part of this _____________ (insert one: book club, conference, writing group, committee). Part of your job when you sign up for something is to be a professional – as we know you are. So, for goodness sakes, mark the event down in your calendar. Don’t rely on me, the person who hates sending email, to send you a reminder email about a meeting that you should have written down in your calendar as soon as it was planned. I am not your babysitter; I am not your schedule maker – that is your job. You are a professional.

There, that’s my stance. Apparently, I’m in the minority. It seems the common thought is professionals need to be reminded two, three or even four times. And even then there’s a 50/50 chance they’ll forget about the event. Or, as illustrated by one case that happened last winter, people will think that since they didn’t receive a reminder about the meeting it must have been cancelled so they’ll schedule a lunch date with another committee member during the time of the meeting. Upon being reminded of the meeting, they’ll decide to show up – but will sit at said meeting with arms crossed and pouty faces throughout the entire event. Please don't do this; remember – you are a professional.

I do apologize for all the ranting. I guess I’ll stop now because I need to – guess what – send out a reminder email about an upcoming meeting.