One of my greatest joys in the last few months has been participating in a contemplative worship experience with 4 year olds at my church each Sunday Morning called "Godly Play."
It is designed to be quiet and holy. Our worship begins by removing our shoes at the door as a physical reminder to our young congregants that this time together will be different than other times. They are then invited in with the simple question, "Are you ready to listen for God?"
After the age old greeting of "The Lord be with you" by the story teller, the kids respond with "And also with you" then we move the hand on our liturgical clock. The kids like the red Sunday most because it's for Pentecost, and well, that's just a really cool word to say over and over when you're four.
The Bible story is shared with 3-dimensional props and no personal philosophy, which is the hard part for me. We use a "desert box" which looks a whole lot like a sand box" to tell the story of the Great Family without our own thoughts as to the lessons to be learned or questions asked as to what was the whole deal with Abram and Sarah anyway.
After our story, the children work individually. Sometimes they choose to re-tell stories they have heard. Miller is drawn to the story of the "The Great Shepherd" for some reason while Silas tends to re-visit the Great Flood story, slowly walking each of the small animals up the plank and onto the ark. He takes a few liberties though, using the stones for the altar that Noah built as eggs for the dove, but seriously I get where he's coming from. Others choose to paint with watercolors or simply cut. Tabor often chooses paper and scissors and spends 20 minutes or so cutting the paper into small pieces. I like to think he's like one of the Buddhist monks that spends hours on the sand sculptures. Cutting bits of paper is his prayer. (Of course, from time to time, there's also a little "Godly wrestling and shouting.")
After work time comes our prayer time. Sometimes we choose to pray "inside" ourselves but many of our 4 year olds choose to pray "outside." There's a lot of thanking going on with the preschool set, which is a lesson to us all. They are thankful for moms, dads, brothers, sisters, leaves on the ground, kittens and dogs. Sometimes their prayers are songs they have learned at home or preschool. However, a few weeks ago, Emmeline caught me off guard. She wanted to pray, which is not unusual for her, but what came next, was a bit different.
She closed her eyes as she folded her hands and paused for a bit. (I have to admit here that I never close my eyes when we pray so I was watching her face as she began.) Softly and sweetly she began singing that age-old prayer that transcends not only denominations but religions in general - "A-B-C-D-E-F-G" she began, then paused again taking on a more serious tone as she continued "H - I - J-K-L-M-N-O-P" another pause - at this point her tone changed to pleading "Q-R-S" -pause - "T-U-V" pause - then her tempo picked up a little and she finished with "W-X-Y and Z." Or, at least I thought she had finished. She added, with her eyes still closed and hands still folded. "Now I've sung my ABC's. Next time won't you sing with me." And all of the other kids and adults softly said, "Amen."
I actually thought I might not be able to keep myself from laughing out loud when she started, but as she continued, I couldn't help but feel God drawing close to us all. The prayer in her heart was too much for any words in her vocabulary so she sang the familiar and offered it as a gift to God. Her sincerity caused us all to respond with the only appropriate thing to say - Amen.
A couple days later my own heart was a little heavy and I struggled with how or what to pray, but sweet Emmeline came to mind and I sang the ABC song. And guess what, God drew near.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Mowing My Grass
It has been a fairly intense 5 months since I last posted on this blog. I fell into a fairly lazy (and wonderful) routine this summer. Napping, reading, walking, going to the pool, hanging with my peeps and my sweetheart. I even took my mom to Graceland and the Grand Ole Opry.
In the middle of all of the routine, I cleaned out a closet and found a ton of letters and cards that friends and family had sent to me while I was at Renfrew nearly five years ago, taking those first, shaky steps towards recovery from a lifetime of starving myself. I looked at cards from my 5th graders with wonderful drawings, and cards from well-meaning adults with Bible verses and quotes meant to inspire.
There were notes in the unmistakable perfect handwriting of my mother where she tells me what the weather is like and what she bought at Wal-Mart. (In between those neatly written lines were the messier, invisible thoughts: Will you be well? What else can I do?)
There was one brief note in my dad's shaky scrawl where he tells me to get better so that I "can go fishing" and "mow your grass." Those two sentences caused me to smile and my heart was full of tenderness towards my dad. For while my mother is more often the more eloquent and softer voice, Dad had nailed the whole reason for my journey.
I was in search of the chance to "go fishing." I wanted a simple life with the journey being the focus. I wanted my life to slow down enough to dig for worms, put my line in the water and wait. I wanted to rejoice when I reeled in the big fish, but be content with an empty stringer, knowing there would be another day.
I also wanted to "mow my grass." I wanted the physical, emotional and mental strength to do what needed to be done. I wanted to be able to yank the starter and push through; I wanted the satisfaction of looking back over the work I had done and be pleased.
So. . . what have I been doing while I haven't been posting? I've been fishing and mowing my grass.
My baby girl is expecting a baby of her own. Brandon, her now husband, has become an official son. I'm thankful for the family they are, for the love that they bring to my already full life. But, I would be lying, if I said this was how I had it all planned out. I would not be truthful if I said there hadn't been a few tears and a little exhaustion. (I'm sure there are dozens of posts to write about it all in the future!)
The good news though (besides the best news of a grandson) is that through it all I found myself able to fish and mow. . . Thanks be to God and my dad.
In the middle of all of the routine, I cleaned out a closet and found a ton of letters and cards that friends and family had sent to me while I was at Renfrew nearly five years ago, taking those first, shaky steps towards recovery from a lifetime of starving myself. I looked at cards from my 5th graders with wonderful drawings, and cards from well-meaning adults with Bible verses and quotes meant to inspire.
There were notes in the unmistakable perfect handwriting of my mother where she tells me what the weather is like and what she bought at Wal-Mart. (In between those neatly written lines were the messier, invisible thoughts: Will you be well? What else can I do?)
There was one brief note in my dad's shaky scrawl where he tells me to get better so that I "can go fishing" and "mow your grass." Those two sentences caused me to smile and my heart was full of tenderness towards my dad. For while my mother is more often the more eloquent and softer voice, Dad had nailed the whole reason for my journey.
I was in search of the chance to "go fishing." I wanted a simple life with the journey being the focus. I wanted my life to slow down enough to dig for worms, put my line in the water and wait. I wanted to rejoice when I reeled in the big fish, but be content with an empty stringer, knowing there would be another day.
I also wanted to "mow my grass." I wanted the physical, emotional and mental strength to do what needed to be done. I wanted to be able to yank the starter and push through; I wanted the satisfaction of looking back over the work I had done and be pleased.
So. . . what have I been doing while I haven't been posting? I've been fishing and mowing my grass.
My baby girl is expecting a baby of her own. Brandon, her now husband, has become an official son. I'm thankful for the family they are, for the love that they bring to my already full life. But, I would be lying, if I said this was how I had it all planned out. I would not be truthful if I said there hadn't been a few tears and a little exhaustion. (I'm sure there are dozens of posts to write about it all in the future!)
The good news though (besides the best news of a grandson) is that through it all I found myself able to fish and mow. . . Thanks be to God and my dad.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Summer Vacation (and it continues still)
Grace and I have fallen into a fairly enviable routine. We walk, read and nap together most everyday.
In between, I've gone fishing with my dad -- we caught 13 and the dreaded turtle only managed to destroy Bo's metal basket and decapitate one fish. I also got Bo set up on an IPad, which believe it or not he actually seems to enjoy.
Oh, and Will and I went to the estate sale for BJ's stuff. I guess it was as successful as something like that can be. It was interesting to watch but, of course, it made me sad. I mean really, toys only last 75 years, if no one ever played with them. I'm glad that so many of my treasures have been worn out rather than tucked away in a safe place.
I saw Superman with Walter on father's day. I even sent a text to Jeff -- "Just wanted you to know that I'm grateful to you for the three greatest gifts in my life. Thinking of you on Father's Day." It felt good to try to see the god that dwells in him, just as he dwells in me. I'm gonna get this Jesus-following stuff down, eventually.
I've also read The Devil in the White City, Tell the Wolves I'm Home and A Small Fortune.
I went swimming with friends from school and wore a bathing suit that I bought without a panic attack. It feels so good to be regular, to be loved so openly and honestly by so many precious people.
On Friday, I went to the doctor for a six-month weigh in. In the last 3 years, my weight has only fluctuated 1 pound from 122 pounds, which is smack dab in the middle of my 120 - 125 pound goal. I will have to go back to the doctor to be weighed every 6 months for the rest of my life. I tried to talk her into a year, but she said in her much too young voice, "Angela, most women who are 50 come to the doctor at least every 6 months, even without anorexia." She seriously didn't need to get my age involved with the conversation. But on the other hand, she's got a point. Thanks to good genes, I'm a poster child for good health, and I should be thankful, even if complaining is so much fun.
Last evening, Walter and I went to Smith-Berry Winery to eat supper with my old Sunday School class and listen to what turned out to be some very good music. Who would have thought that a couple of non-wine drinkers would have had so much fun.
Having time to think in the summer has also allowed me to be aware that Walter has become my very best friend and knowing that he has my back brings me much joy. He has served to remind me that "a simple life" has plenty of room for very complex love.
So anyway, the time keeps ticking by and I'm aware and present in every tick.
In between, I've gone fishing with my dad -- we caught 13 and the dreaded turtle only managed to destroy Bo's metal basket and decapitate one fish. I also got Bo set up on an IPad, which believe it or not he actually seems to enjoy.
Oh, and Will and I went to the estate sale for BJ's stuff. I guess it was as successful as something like that can be. It was interesting to watch but, of course, it made me sad. I mean really, toys only last 75 years, if no one ever played with them. I'm glad that so many of my treasures have been worn out rather than tucked away in a safe place.
I saw Superman with Walter on father's day. I even sent a text to Jeff -- "Just wanted you to know that I'm grateful to you for the three greatest gifts in my life. Thinking of you on Father's Day." It felt good to try to see the god that dwells in him, just as he dwells in me. I'm gonna get this Jesus-following stuff down, eventually.
I've also read The Devil in the White City, Tell the Wolves I'm Home and A Small Fortune.
I went swimming with friends from school and wore a bathing suit that I bought without a panic attack. It feels so good to be regular, to be loved so openly and honestly by so many precious people.
On Friday, I went to the doctor for a six-month weigh in. In the last 3 years, my weight has only fluctuated 1 pound from 122 pounds, which is smack dab in the middle of my 120 - 125 pound goal. I will have to go back to the doctor to be weighed every 6 months for the rest of my life. I tried to talk her into a year, but she said in her much too young voice, "Angela, most women who are 50 come to the doctor at least every 6 months, even without anorexia." She seriously didn't need to get my age involved with the conversation. But on the other hand, she's got a point. Thanks to good genes, I'm a poster child for good health, and I should be thankful, even if complaining is so much fun.
Last evening, Walter and I went to Smith-Berry Winery to eat supper with my old Sunday School class and listen to what turned out to be some very good music. Who would have thought that a couple of non-wine drinkers would have had so much fun.
Having time to think in the summer has also allowed me to be aware that Walter has become my very best friend and knowing that he has my back brings me much joy. He has served to remind me that "a simple life" has plenty of room for very complex love.
So anyway, the time keeps ticking by and I'm aware and present in every tick.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Summer Vacation (continued)
Yesterday, I saw a movie, Frances Ha, and then went to eat with Cathy.
Today, I went to Kroger, and I got a little irritated with myself for feeling so impatient with the retarded guy bagging my groceries. I mean, seriously, what kind of person does that make me.
I finished reading the book The Girl in the Blue Beret by Bobbie Ann Mason and then went to see another movie with Cathy this evening, The Iceman.
Grace and I were joined by Carly for our nightly walk. We talked about her wedding plans and how the rabbits are feasting on the plants that I put out in our yard over the weekend.
(Oh, and, Kelly, I also took a nap today and yesterday, just in case you are counting!)
Today, I went to Kroger, and I got a little irritated with myself for feeling so impatient with the retarded guy bagging my groceries. I mean, seriously, what kind of person does that make me.
I finished reading the book The Girl in the Blue Beret by Bobbie Ann Mason and then went to see another movie with Cathy this evening, The Iceman.
Grace and I were joined by Carly for our nightly walk. We talked about her wedding plans and how the rabbits are feasting on the plants that I put out in our yard over the weekend.
(Oh, and, Kelly, I also took a nap today and yesterday, just in case you are counting!)
Sunday, June 9, 2013
A Broken Home
Carly took a pie to a party a week or so ago, and she had put it in this really retro cake holder that Walter had given to her, when he was cleaning out his mom's things. She came home excited, telling me how cool everybody thought it was and how they wanted to know where she got it. She said, "I just told them that my mom's boyfriend gave it to me."
Hearing her say that caught me off guard -- hearing my daughter talk about her "mom's boyfriend" is certainly not something I aspired to when I was young. I mean I was going to die married to her father. I mean, that was the plan.
I think Carly saw the weird look on my face, but instead of going "there" we both laughed as I said, "Oh my god, you come from a broken home."
As a teacher, hearing a kid talk about his "mom's boyfriend" always brought just a little bit of a cringe. My superior attitude thought that this was just another thing that separated my greatness from their subpar living. I mean if you can't keep your marriage together, how can you possibly love your children and do what's best for them. Right?
Since my own divorce, I've realized that Broken Home is actually an oxymoron (my dad's favorite word). I mean think about it. If we define a home as the place where we feel safe and loved and valued and affirmed, it can never be broken. It doesn't matter whose boyfriend, or dog, or child, or partner, or grandmother, or friend, or cat lives there -- because if those beings are loving one another then its all good.
My house is often a little crazy, filled to the brim with animals and people, the washing machine going non-stop, a ballgame playing on the tv in the background, the garage door going up and down and the driveway often looking like a used car lot, but, trust me, it is anything but broken. It is filled with acceptance and love and, of course, Grace, and not just the dog kind.
Hearing her say that caught me off guard -- hearing my daughter talk about her "mom's boyfriend" is certainly not something I aspired to when I was young. I mean I was going to die married to her father. I mean, that was the plan.
I think Carly saw the weird look on my face, but instead of going "there" we both laughed as I said, "Oh my god, you come from a broken home."
As a teacher, hearing a kid talk about his "mom's boyfriend" always brought just a little bit of a cringe. My superior attitude thought that this was just another thing that separated my greatness from their subpar living. I mean if you can't keep your marriage together, how can you possibly love your children and do what's best for them. Right?
Since my own divorce, I've realized that Broken Home is actually an oxymoron (my dad's favorite word). I mean think about it. If we define a home as the place where we feel safe and loved and valued and affirmed, it can never be broken. It doesn't matter whose boyfriend, or dog, or child, or partner, or grandmother, or friend, or cat lives there -- because if those beings are loving one another then its all good.
My house is often a little crazy, filled to the brim with animals and people, the washing machine going non-stop, a ballgame playing on the tv in the background, the garage door going up and down and the driveway often looking like a used car lot, but, trust me, it is anything but broken. It is filled with acceptance and love and, of course, Grace, and not just the dog kind.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
SV: Day 6 (I think)
Yesterday I went grocery shopping, which made the twins very excited. I walked with Grace, took a nap, read tons. Carly and Will and I grilled steaks and ate together. I visited with Walter in the evening. I also made an appointment for Grace to get her hair buzzed on Saturday. Oh, and of course, I worked the crossword puzzle in the newspaper.
I love how quickly I have fallen into a summer routine.
Today, I ate breakfast with my CRew -- that's our 'hood version of friends from Crestwood. Then, Cathy and I went all over Louisville puppy shopping for Cathy. We thought we had found one, but took Grace to meet her and the new dog became fairly aggressive -- so that was the end of that. Grace is so much like a Teddy Bear that it's kind of like, if you can't get along with Grace then it's probably you. Oh, and we also made a trip to Lowe's for some on-sale flowers. I planted mine this evening then had a milkshake on the deck with Will and Carly. Tomorrow I have a professional development meeting all day so I guess that doesn't count as summer, but it's way too hard to complain with all of June and July stretched out in front of me.
I love how quickly I have fallen into a summer routine.
Today, I ate breakfast with my CRew -- that's our 'hood version of friends from Crestwood. Then, Cathy and I went all over Louisville puppy shopping for Cathy. We thought we had found one, but took Grace to meet her and the new dog became fairly aggressive -- so that was the end of that. Grace is so much like a Teddy Bear that it's kind of like, if you can't get along with Grace then it's probably you. Oh, and we also made a trip to Lowe's for some on-sale flowers. I planted mine this evening then had a milkshake on the deck with Will and Carly. Tomorrow I have a professional development meeting all day so I guess that doesn't count as summer, but it's way too hard to complain with all of June and July stretched out in front of me.
Monday, June 3, 2013
SV: Day 4 (the morning after)
I went to church this morning then hung out with my 3 year friends for Sunday School. After church and lunch, I took a nap, read some and enjoyed the quiet of the day.
Cathy and I went to see The Place Beyond the Pines in the afternoon and enjoyed supper together after that. I've missed her and it was good to be with her.
In Sunday School, Kathleen raised her arms to me, saying, "Angela, I need to pick you up and hold you." I smiled, and reached down to pick her up. Her being three and all it was pretty easy for me to infer that in fact she wanted me to pick her up and hold her.
I wonder how often as adults we pick up our kids, our animals, our friends when in truth we are the ones in need of holding, but just too proud to ask.
Cathy and I went to see The Place Beyond the Pines in the afternoon and enjoyed supper together after that. I've missed her and it was good to be with her.
In Sunday School, Kathleen raised her arms to me, saying, "Angela, I need to pick you up and hold you." I smiled, and reached down to pick her up. Her being three and all it was pretty easy for me to infer that in fact she wanted me to pick her up and hold her.
I wonder how often as adults we pick up our kids, our animals, our friends when in truth we are the ones in need of holding, but just too proud to ask.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
SV - Day 3
I spent most of the day alone -- the twins went to Bowling Green this morning. It was actually kind of nice. I cleaned my house - sorta, did a load of laundry, mowed my grass, read and took a nap.
This evening Walter and I went to a friend's retirement party. Took my Grace for a walk and am getting ready for bed.
Life is good.
This evening Walter and I went to a friend's retirement party. Took my Grace for a walk and am getting ready for bed.
Life is good.
Friday, May 31, 2013
SV: Day 2
I spent the morning and early afternoon with Walter, who had the day off work. We ate breakfast at Wild Eggs, played Blokus on his deck (he won 2 out of 3), saw the movie Now You See It, and ate lunch at the food court at the mall.
I came home and took a nap. It was raining so it was the best kind of nap. I spent the rest of the day reading -- finished And the Mountains Echoed. The twins and I shared a pizza for supper.
Oh, and I saw two yellow finches at my new feeder and a pair of cardinals at my old one.
I did not cross one thing off my summer "to-do" list. Right now, that doesn't seem like a big deal at all.
I came home and took a nap. It was raining so it was the best kind of nap. I spent the rest of the day reading -- finished And the Mountains Echoed. The twins and I shared a pizza for supper.
Oh, and I saw two yellow finches at my new feeder and a pair of cardinals at my old one.
I did not cross one thing off my summer "to-do" list. Right now, that doesn't seem like a big deal at all.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
What I Did on Summer Vacation: Day 1
1. Made pancakes for breakfast for Carly and myself. (She was off work today.)
2. Took two leisurely walks with my dog.
3. Continued reading The Mountains Echoed. By that I mean I seriously read. . . for a very long time.
4. Sat on deck, couch, chair while I while simultaneously working on #3.
5. Talked with Will and Carly, different times, on the deck, and you know, for being a couple of bums that eat my food and use a lot of water when they take showers, they are two pretty incredible people that I absolutely adore.
6. Took a nap.
7. Put clean sheets on my bed.
God is good. Here's hoping that the rest of my summer goes as well.
2. Took two leisurely walks with my dog.
3. Continued reading The Mountains Echoed. By that I mean I seriously read. . . for a very long time.
4. Sat on deck, couch, chair while I while simultaneously working on #3.
5. Talked with Will and Carly, different times, on the deck, and you know, for being a couple of bums that eat my food and use a lot of water when they take showers, they are two pretty incredible people that I absolutely adore.
6. Took a nap.
7. Put clean sheets on my bed.
God is good. Here's hoping that the rest of my summer goes as well.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Crazy World
"We live in a crazy world. Lots of times it's good crazy. Times like this, bad crazy." - Will Hicks
If you know my #2 boy, you know he's a pretty still piece of water, that runs dangerously deep. In the midst of the chaos of this week's bombings in Boston, this was his take on the whole thing.
I'm glad we got the chance last night to see a little bit of the good crazy in the very middle of the bad crazy, and I'm thankful for a son who recognizes them both.
If you know my #2 boy, you know he's a pretty still piece of water, that runs dangerously deep. In the midst of the chaos of this week's bombings in Boston, this was his take on the whole thing.
I'm glad we got the chance last night to see a little bit of the good crazy in the very middle of the bad crazy, and I'm thankful for a son who recognizes them both.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Trouble Everywhere
It seems as if there is trouble everywhere.
Two dear friends are battling cancer and all the craziness that hides in that. Another high school friend has a young adult daughter who is in the middle of an heroin addiction. Yet another friend's husband broke his leg above his knee and will be basically immobile for the next 3 to 4 months.
The frustrating part for those involved is there is nothing to do to actually fix it. No money, no home remedy, no power or influence can stop their journeys.
At the end of the day, there is only love. The cool thing is that's all we really need in the first place.
Two dear friends are battling cancer and all the craziness that hides in that. Another high school friend has a young adult daughter who is in the middle of an heroin addiction. Yet another friend's husband broke his leg above his knee and will be basically immobile for the next 3 to 4 months.
The frustrating part for those involved is there is nothing to do to actually fix it. No money, no home remedy, no power or influence can stop their journeys.
At the end of the day, there is only love. The cool thing is that's all we really need in the first place.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
The ??? Day of Lent
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| My babies, Will and Carly. |
I'm thankful for a conversation I overheard Tuesday evening:
Will to Carly: Did you know that a person can actually break his leg from sneezing?
Carly: (No response)
Will: Kangaroos can't jump backwards either.
Carly: (Without looking up from her book) Hey, Will, is autism contagious?
Somethings never change. Even if my twins are 24 years old. I'm thankful for that.
Another note: Will is an assistant in a autistic unit at an elementary school. Carly and I listen to his stories every day with lots of patience, more or less.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
22nd Day of Lent
Friday, March 8, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Friday, March 1, 2013
16th Day of Lent
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| My Number 2 Boy and Me |
Thursday, February 28, 2013
14th Day of Lent
I talked with my New Yorker yesterday afternoon. I asked him what his plans were for the weekend. He told me his roommate was going out of town so he "joyfully anticipated a lot of pant-less TV viewing."
I'm so thankful that my boy takes such pleasure in the simple things.
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| My boy, Sam, and me. Thanksgiving Day 2012 |
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
12th Day of Lent
I'm thankful for a walk in the rain.
This morning when Grace and I returned from our walk in the rain, Will said "Mom, you are so hardcore." It's nice when your life is so gentle that walking in the rain is considered hardcore.
This morning when Grace and I returned from our walk in the rain, Will said "Mom, you are so hardcore." It's nice when your life is so gentle that walking in the rain is considered hardcore.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
7th Day of Lent
The only way it could be any better is if my mom was actually stirring it on the stove.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
6th Day of Lent
Nick is a new friend of mine. He is a bright, caring, compassionate 15 year old, who found himself getting a little behind in his school work this year. So we've started hanging out together an hour or two a week, eating McDonald's french fries while sorting out backpack debris and writing papers about neurofibromatosis.
With a little push from a middle-aged woman who is NOT his mom, he is righting himself and getting back into the game of school. He is also reminding me how difficult it is to be 15.
I wish I could tell him that life will be easier as he grows older and that if he can just get through the next couple of years, he'll be fine. But, the truth is, tomorrow is no guarantee; there is only today, and I'm glad he is sharing some of his todays with me.
Monday, February 18, 2013
5th Day of Lent
I am thankful for Grace.
No judgement. No condemnation. No grudges.
Pure unconditional love and loyalty.
She joyfully allows me to be the leader of our pack. Giving up this control allows her to love and share and live in the moment because she trusts that I will care for her.
No judgement. No condemnation. No grudges.
Pure unconditional love and loyalty.
She joyfully allows me to be the leader of our pack. Giving up this control allows her to love and share and live in the moment because she trusts that I will care for her.
Someday, I hope I can trust God as much as she does me. Then I can love and share and live in the moment completely.
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| My girl with her Valentine |
Saturday, February 16, 2013
4th Day of Lent
I'm thankful to be a 3rd grade teacher on Valentine's Day. Does it get any better than a heart-shaped box of Russell Stover candy and a Batman card? I don't think so.Friday, February 15, 2013
3rd Day of Lent
This school year I have discovered the joy of Polar Pops. My particular favorite is the 44 ounce cup, filled with crushed ice and topped off with Diet Pepsi. The absolute best part is that it costs 84cents.
The funny part of my daily habit is that I used to laugh at my mom for stopping at Hardee's every morning for an "iced drink" on her way to school each day. Thirty years later, I completely understand her need for crushed ice.
So, I stop in at the Circle K each morning -- between 6:55 and 6:58 to be precise, say hello to the guys smoking outside around the garbage can waiting for the Krispie Kreme guy, fill up my cup and lay down my 84 cents.
Should I ever win the lottery I have decided that I will have a Polar Pop machine installed in my kitchen, but honestly, I would miss the guys at Circle K.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Second Day of Lent
Today I'm thankful for my name.
I watched an episode of my new favorite TV show, "Downton Abbey," last weekend. After hearing a rather unseemly piece of news about her granddaughter, the normally judgemental matriarch was questioned as to why she was taking the news in such an accepting, gentle fashion. She turned and smiled, saying, "Mary's different. She's family."
Belonging may take 2nd place only to being loved for the best feeling ever. My name grounds me in that feeling of belonging; it reminds me that whose I am is much more important than who I am or what I have accomplished.
I watched an episode of my new favorite TV show, "Downton Abbey," last weekend. After hearing a rather unseemly piece of news about her granddaughter, the normally judgemental matriarch was questioned as to why she was taking the news in such an accepting, gentle fashion. She turned and smiled, saying, "Mary's different. She's family."
Belonging may take 2nd place only to being loved for the best feeling ever. My name grounds me in that feeling of belonging; it reminds me that whose I am is much more important than who I am or what I have accomplished.
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| This sign hangs outside of my classroom. Lucky for me, I "belong" to lots of people and places. |
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Ash Wednesday
I am thankful for a hyacinth that is blooming on my kitchen table on the 13th of February. It serves as a reminder that Spring always comes again.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Full of Myself
I just finished my walk with Grace and am getting ready to work the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. I am also feeling pretty full of myself. (Walter's translation for that is "morally superior.")
Yesterday, I had a scope done on my esophagus. For the last 6 months or so, I've had real trouble with swallowing my prozac. It feels like it's getting stuck about half way down and the pain and burning last up to 24 hours. The feeling makes me hesitate to take the pill, but if the pill doesn't go down then the anxiety rises. (I bet you've got the cycle down, right?) So I've had myself convinced that it's all in my mind because I really don't want to take prozac, but it turns out it's actually in my esophagus, which made me feel even more sane than the prozac does. Some Pepcid should help with the symptoms and prevent the inflammation from turning into an ulcer.
Also, since I'm 50, the dr. decided that while I was out with a scope stuck down my throat, they might as well knock out the dreaded colonoscopy as well. They assured me that a different scope was used. I guess that was supposed to make me feel better.
So here I am taking all care of myself, discovering that there's an actual physical reason for my prozac-swallowing issue -- add to that the fact that I went to the grocery after school, did 2 loads of laundry AND went out to eat with Cathy. There's just so little time for restricting, weighing, cutting and counting calories. Not enough time to even think about it. Thanks be to God.
Yesterday, I had a scope done on my esophagus. For the last 6 months or so, I've had real trouble with swallowing my prozac. It feels like it's getting stuck about half way down and the pain and burning last up to 24 hours. The feeling makes me hesitate to take the pill, but if the pill doesn't go down then the anxiety rises. (I bet you've got the cycle down, right?) So I've had myself convinced that it's all in my mind because I really don't want to take prozac, but it turns out it's actually in my esophagus, which made me feel even more sane than the prozac does. Some Pepcid should help with the symptoms and prevent the inflammation from turning into an ulcer.
Also, since I'm 50, the dr. decided that while I was out with a scope stuck down my throat, they might as well knock out the dreaded colonoscopy as well. They assured me that a different scope was used. I guess that was supposed to make me feel better.
So here I am taking all care of myself, discovering that there's an actual physical reason for my prozac-swallowing issue -- add to that the fact that I went to the grocery after school, did 2 loads of laundry AND went out to eat with Cathy. There's just so little time for restricting, weighing, cutting and counting calories. Not enough time to even think about it. Thanks be to God.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Sunday Evening
Just got back from my walk with Grace. I certainly needed my long underwear even though Grace opted out of wearing hers.
This weekend was good. Friday evening I celebrated the twins' birthday with a trip to Red Robin for supper, then we went to Tinseltown to see Promised Land. I can't believe that they are 24 years old, and I can't believe I'm lucky enough to spend their birthday with them, still.
Walter, Grace and I went hiking yesterday at Jefferson Memorial Forest -- Big Fun, for sure.
You know how you see someone cool doing something that you think is equally cool and you wish you could be that person -- if you don't have any idea what I'm talking about then you probably have way too much self-esteem to even be bothering with this blog -- Anyway, yesterday while I was hiking with this beautiful dog and following the muddy tracks of this incredible man who would turn around and offer his hand to me every now and then, I thought "Wait a minute. I'm that really cool person that I want to be."
Who would have ever thought that cool person would be 50 years old, driving a 98 Venture Van, teaching 3rd grade, writing entries for a blog every now and then. All these years I thought that the cool woman had her shit together, money in the bank, obedient children, and supper in the oven.
Turns out she just shows up as who she is, takes crazy pleasure in the squishy mud on her boots, watching her dog jump in the lake and holding the hand of a man who respects and shares those very same pleasures.
This weekend was good. Friday evening I celebrated the twins' birthday with a trip to Red Robin for supper, then we went to Tinseltown to see Promised Land. I can't believe that they are 24 years old, and I can't believe I'm lucky enough to spend their birthday with them, still.
Walter, Grace and I went hiking yesterday at Jefferson Memorial Forest -- Big Fun, for sure.
You know how you see someone cool doing something that you think is equally cool and you wish you could be that person -- if you don't have any idea what I'm talking about then you probably have way too much self-esteem to even be bothering with this blog -- Anyway, yesterday while I was hiking with this beautiful dog and following the muddy tracks of this incredible man who would turn around and offer his hand to me every now and then, I thought "Wait a minute. I'm that really cool person that I want to be."
Who would have ever thought that cool person would be 50 years old, driving a 98 Venture Van, teaching 3rd grade, writing entries for a blog every now and then. All these years I thought that the cool woman had her shit together, money in the bank, obedient children, and supper in the oven.
Turns out she just shows up as who she is, takes crazy pleasure in the squishy mud on her boots, watching her dog jump in the lake and holding the hand of a man who respects and shares those very same pleasures.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
2013
I'm going to cut myself a little slack this year when it comes to the blog thing. I'm going to try to record a few things every day or so BUT I'm not going to wait for something completely developed. I'm hoping this will encourage me to record the little things that don't seem so important at the time, but loom large when pushed together.
Last night I celebrated New Year's Eve with dear friends. A midnight kiss, a champagne toast and a killer pictionary game made this the best one ever. Today I saw the movie Django with Walter and finished the book Flight Pattern by Kingsolver.
I texted with Sam, Will & Carly are here with me. Grace and I just finished a cold, crisp walk.
Tomorrow is back to school.
I could not ask for more.
Last night I celebrated New Year's Eve with dear friends. A midnight kiss, a champagne toast and a killer pictionary game made this the best one ever. Today I saw the movie Django with Walter and finished the book Flight Pattern by Kingsolver.
I texted with Sam, Will & Carly are here with me. Grace and I just finished a cold, crisp walk.
Tomorrow is back to school.
I could not ask for more.
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