Tag: kids

Popcorn

We are going to be visiting with relatives in England later this summer, when we go to visit with our daughter, who will be studying there. I asked if there was anything that we should bring from America that they would like for us to bring. My aunt wanted some “4th of July” napkins (these, obviously, won’t be easily found over there), and her grandchildren wanted some specific American candy. My aunt said, “They want some ‘Jolly Ranchers’, but I guess they mean ‘Jolly Rogers?!?’,” she said in her email.

“No, they were right, it is ‘Jolly Ranchers’ and we can accomodate,” I said with a smile on my face, tasting an imaginary tart red cherry Jolly Rancher on my tongue, as I replied to her. Interestingly, her one little grandchild wanted a big bag of buttered popcorn. At first this puzzled me. I thought to myself, “I’ll have to purchase that when we get there,” but then it occurred to me that corn isn’t as common in Europe as it is here. Popcorn was first found in Peru, and the Aztecs are said to have eaten quite a bit of it in ancient Mexico. Popcorn is clearly much more of an “Americas” thing. The Europeans have “banged grains” as it is often called in the UK, but it isn’t nearly as plentiful and available in so many varieties as we have here in the United States.

No doubt, I will find some room in my luggage for the biggest, most delicious bag of popcorn I can find, (and probably a few microwave versions, to boot.) It will be cushioned between big bags of Jolly Ranchers. In my mind, this will be the most priceless stuff in my luggage, and I can’t wait to be a kid again with kids who know just how great and fulfilling an American snack of salty, buttered popcorn and Jolly Ranchers can make! It’s the “little things.” This I know.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1430. What profession do you respect? (I was going to write something snarky, but I am working on my “emotional reacting, versus healthfully responding” skills.)

Monday – Funday

To those of you who are about to embark on the empty nest, do not worry. They come back. They come back more than you would ever expect, even. Our daughter brought home a houseful this past weekend, and after they left, our youngest son arrived here right afterwards, almost like clockwork, to help us eat leftovers and watch football. And while he and his dad were watching the game, I handed them the big, warm pile of towels and sheets out of the dryer, for them to fold. Déjà vu.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:

1716. What wild animal scares you? (One of the young women visiting here this weekend is from Connecticut. She insisted that they have no dangerous wildlife in Connecticut. They only have robins and squirrels and chipmunks, apparently. It took a long time for this lady’s mother to get comfortable with alligators being on campus. It was also shocking for her mother to find out we also have deer in Florida. Well, I suppose that the alligators have to eat . . . . 😉 )

Monday – Funday

I love our dogs. I mean, I adore our dogs. But Josie, our collie causes more fur-formed tumbleweeds than a major storm in the Mojave Desert. And our dogs can’t look out our glass sliders (which form most of the back of our house) without making absolutely sure to having their sloppy wet noses touch the glass. (And of course, our dogs are all three different heights: small, medium, and large) The bottom half of our sliders are translucent to opaque, on a regular basis.

My youngest son questions everything in life. (I wonder where he gets that from. Hmmm.) He once said, “I love our dogs as much as any of us do, but don’t you think it is kind of weird that humankind has evolved to have animals living with us, in our houses? I mean, does it seem a little strange?” (Despite agreeing with him, we all kissed the dogs and ignored our son the rest of the day. 😉 )

Bottom line is, I love my dogs and I love Oreos. They are worth the never-ending cycle of cleaning up after them. Have a great week!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Love Is An Action

In the matter of less than six months, three members of our combined extended families have lost their spouses to sudden deaths. All three of these people who died were in their fifties and younger. This has been a lot to consider and to digest and to process. It has been a stark reminder to me of just how short life really is, and how important it is to savor all of it. In times of sorrow and of pain and of uncertainty, which since the pandemic started, seems to be more of the norm than it ever was before (at least in my own life), it really helps to be reminded of all of the good and the love and the wonder that still surrounds us. These two recent news stories filled me with hope for humanity.

The first was the story of the Polish women who left their strollers waiting for the Ukrainian refugee mothers who were coming into Poland, at the train station platforms. I am sure seeing those strollers meant so much more to these refugee mothers, than just the use of much needed baby strollers. It was a message of hope, and of love, and of empathy, and of unity, like nothing that we could ever convey in words:

https://www.today.com/parents/parents/strollers-refugees-viral-photo-rcna19020

The second inspiring news story is about a hotline created by a couple of teachers and their elementary students to uplift people who need to feel some hope and some joy. It is called “Peptoc.” I called the number this morning and I picked the option to hear children’s laughter. Is there a more beautiful sound in this world? I think not. The number is here: 707-998-8410 I may keep it on speed dial. Here is the article:

https://www.npr.org/2022/03/06/1084800784/peptoc-hotline-kindergarteners

Love is an action. What does your love action look like for today?

Love quote - Love is a verb. | Love is a verb, Love quotes with images, Love quotes

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

A Little Bit Psycho

Surround yourself with people who pray for you behind your back .. those are your people, those are your tribe

Butterfly
@TammyAIDip, Twitter

I feel your prayers, my friends. Thank you. Working through the trauma that comes with my youngest son’s epilepsy is a process, but the process feels lighter with the loving and kind energy of prayer and well wishes, moving through it. Again, thank you. I treasure you, my tribe.

“I always like for other kids to know that my kids’ mom is a little bit psycho.” – @emily_tweets, Twitter

I love this tweet. All of my children and their friends know that I have my quirks, and that I usually proudly own my quirks. I think that it is my middle son (the matter-of-factual medical school student) who would most deeply relate to this tweet shown above.

My middle son is reserved. His teachers used to love to accuse him of being shy, but that’s not honestly the case. There is a big difference. My middle son is confident, he just doesn’t care for spectacles. My middle son has a stealth self-containment. In the midst of chaos, he isn’t chaotic, but it turns out that he is often that sneaky instigator of the tumultuous happenings all around him. You know the type.

When my middle son was in elementary school, parents took turns organizing surprise “Fun Friday” activities for his kindergarten class. Now my regular readers know that I love Fridays. Fridays put me in almost a holiday kind of spirit. I get giddy, sometimes even ecstatic, on Fridays. And my closest friends and my family know that, unlike my middle son, I’m not particularly reserved. So on my turn of heading up a Fun Friday for my son’s class, I decided to go all out.

My middle son is an automobile enthusiast. He’s going to be that guy whose garage will always be more pristine, and probably larger than his house. He has loved cars since he could steadily hold one or two brightly colored Matchbox race cars, in his precious little chubby baby fist. He can name the make and model (and probably even the year) of any car he sees, like he is a walking Blue Book. So it was inevitable. I decided that I would go all out with “the car theme” for Fun Friday.

We were living in Charlotte, NC, at the time, and we had friends who worked at NASCAR, so I asked to borrow a racer’s suit. I also borrowed another friend’s motorcycle helmet. That Fun Friday, I proudly promenaded down the hall of the elementary school, donning my race gear, like I was a model on a catwalk. I had bags full of activities and stuff, all related to cars, that we were going to enjoy in his kindergarten class’ Fun Friday. And I, on that particular Friday, wasn’t just wearing a race car suit . . . . I was a race car driver, and a good one. On that day, me and Jesus, had the wheel.

I confidently opened the door of his classroom, where the children were sitting on the floor with each other working on a math activity. I stood in the doorway, hands on my hips, and then I whipped off my heavy helmet with panache. I smiled broadly (and probably in my son’s mind, a tad fanatically), as I eyed him, wondering, with glee, what he thought of my surprise entrance.

My middle son looked at me, eyes widened, and he gasped in horror. He turned to his friend sitting next to him, and in a loud whisper aimed towards his friend’s ear (and anyone else in close proximity), my son firmly pronounced, “Yeah, don’t mind her. She’s a little kooky!”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

The Funny Thing About Life

Life is funny. Life gets really interesting when you start to dig deep. Life is truly at its best, when you are willing to scratch beneath the surface and to truly experience it, at its most authentic, interesting fullness. Life gets really real, when you let yourself deep dive into your feelings. This past 24 hours I have gotten to know, and to love, people who I have known since I was a child, even better than ever. This past 24 hours, I have made new and fast and devoted friends with people whom I had once kept at a cautious and competitive distance. This past 24 hours I have grown an even more massive respect for my child’s coach, only because his pure humility never allowed him to share, with any of us, his true and poignant story of hope and triumph, until I pretentiously pried it out of him. This past 24 hours I have prepared myself (as much as I can) for the upcoming ceremony that says to me, and to the world, that another child of mine, is striding into his adult life, with me being relegated as a supportive and loving witness and cheerleader. In these past 24 hours, I let myself fall into a pure and open and intricate and trusting and total experience of staying in the present. It feels like I may have dropped another layer – a layer that I had once created with the thought that it was there to protect me, but instead was only working as a hazy muffler, to the purest sounds and vibrations of a life lived fully, and intensely connected to the moment. This last 24 hours was so amazingly good, even though everything didn’t always adhere to my “shoulds” and to my hopeful expectations and to my plans. Life is funny. Life gets really interesting when you just let it happen. Life is good. Life knows the way.

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

“What day is it?” asked Pooh.
“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favorite day,” said Pooh.”
― A.A. Milne

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Getaway

I’m headed out early this morning. I am going on a short “getaway.” I was chatting with girlfriends about it, a couple of days ago. I like my destination. I haven’t been there since I was a kid, and I always like to explore new places. However, mostly, I am excited to get out of my element. I’m excited to step out of my own life and to get out of my own routine for a few days. I want to escape for a little bit. “That’s why they are called ‘getaways’,” my wise friend said.

Sometimes I feel guilty about admitting that I want to “get away” from my daily life to other people, and sometimes, I feel guilty admitting that fact, even to myself. It makes it sound like my life is bad and full of drudgery and that just isn’t the truth. All in all, I have a very fine, blessed life. In fact, many times when I am on a getaway, I find myself appreciating my life at home, all of the more. Often times, towards the end of a getaway, I start pining away for home. I see a family laughing together or someone walking their frisky dog and I want to be home with my kids and my pets.

Still, right now, I can’t wait to only have to think about what I am going to eat, at whatever time I want to eat. I like the idea of sleeping in (or not) to whatever time floats my boat, on any particular day. I like the idea of exploring shops, and museums and parks that are unfamiliar and intriguing to me, and not having to try to compromise with a large group of people with diverse interests and moods, as to where to go to next or what to do next. I like the idea of not having to stop whatever I am doing to let the dogs out, once again.

Truth be told, I need this refresher. It is good for me and it is good for my family. Sometimes a getaway is really just about getting-a-way-back-to-yourself. In that way, you have more of yourself to give, when you get back home.

Good Grief

Obviously when a child leaves the nest it’s inevitable that you will go through the process of some grieving.  Grief.  It’s a word, a process, an experience that we all want to avoid.  In fact, I’m sure a lot of my readers right now are going, “Okay, time to X out of this page.”  My husband likes to say that no one gets to middle age without going through at least one “major biggie.”  And most of us have gone through more than one “biggie” by this time in our lives.  Grief is an obvious outcome when we lose someone we love deeply or a long term relationship ends.  There are a lot of support systems out there to help us with that expected type of grief journey.  In fact, even when our aged, grumpy old man of a dog died last year at the ripe old age of at least 15 (he was a rescue, so his age was sort of up in the air), my vet handed us a 20 page booklet on how to deal with the grief of the loss of a pet.

They say that there are five stages of grief. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.  The annoying thing about these stages is that they are not linear; you get to be-bop back and forth between them.  Just when you think you are past one of these stages, something sets you back and you feel like you are at the beginning of it all over again.  Grief is a lonely emotion.  I’m sure that my husband and I are both grieving the fact that our nucleus family will never be the same structure that is has been for the past 22 years, but we are grieving it in different ways and be-bopping through the stages at different paces and tempos.  Loving friends and family can empathize and support us through our grief, but their loving energies and prayers are just good sustenance in our backpacks as we travel this road by ourselves, individually.

I used to feel guilty about grieving.  A lot of the times, the things that you grieve are also tied into exciting, happy new beginnings.  I’m truly thrilled for son’s new opportunities and for the space that has been created in my life because he has moved on with his life.  Every time that we moved to a new town, we grieved for our friends and neighbors, our jobs and our homes and the memories that would now be part of our past, but at the same time we were very excited for the newness of a new place, and for the experiences and people that would come with that new place.  Grief can be major or minor.  Heck, I grieved when my favorite perfume was discontinued and I could no longer even find it even on ebay!

One year one of my children’s yearbooks had a quote that said something to the affect that we grieve our moments in time because there is a deep understanding in us that the person we are right now in this time and place will never be the same person again.  Even if we try to duplicate the experience, it can’t be the same because we aren’t the same person anymore.  We are constantly changing due to our experiences and growth.  So in this sense, we even grieve a former version of our own selves.

Grief is a multi-layered experience.  When we are grieving someone or something, we often find old remnants of previous grieving that we thought we had already accepted.  What a lovely surprise! Ha!  I think the older I get, I have learned to stop labeling things as much as I used to do.  Grief just is.  We want to think of it is “bad” or “negative”, but it really isn’t either of those things.  It’s just one of those aspects of us that proves to ourselves that we are deeply alive.  I would definitely rather feel than to be numb. Why would I want to cut off the experience of feeling all of those times of pride, excitement, happiness, joy, peace, contentment, wonder, and mostly deep, deep love to avoid going through the pain of grief??  My son’s venturing out into the world towards his own adult adventures has sparked every emotion in me that I ever knew that I had, and if I accept this process and I allow this process instead of resisting it, I will come out the other end of it stronger and wiser than I have ever been before.