Winter Wonderland
I have a sickening love affair with Christmas lights. My child does too. This is something I could not love more. I was forever begging my family to pull out the holiday decorations the second we put away the pumpkins and ghosts. Happily, I was blessed with a child who will be my partner in convincing his daddy that this is a new mid November necessity. I love turkey but not as much as all things shiny and cheer filled.
Today, we had plans to Christmas shop all day but the 5 inches of snow we got overnight stopped us in our tracks. Instead, we are watching Christmas movies from the couch in our sweats while a diaper clad boy dances around the tree and finger paints Christmas ornaments. Side note: I bet this messy work of art is the first gift my mom actually keeps past January 1st. The snow is still coming down outside and after The Santa Clause we will be bundling up for Rowan's first romp in the snow. I can't wait. Pictures to follow.
{My Gravity}
Today, I'm participating in
The prompt I have choosen is "If you could stop time for 24 hours, what would you accomplish?"
____________________________________________________
"If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save everyday
Til eternity passes away
just to spend them with you"
--Jim Croce
If I could stop time for twenty-four hours, I would spend it doing the most important things in life, even though at the end of the day it would apppear I'd accomplished nothing.
I love my life right now, truly, I do. There are bumps. I am bruised. But, I see the light; and at the end of the day I smile at thoughts of the moments of pure bliss I was blessed to experience. I smile a welcome good morning to life as its sun drenched fingers peel the curtains back from my eyes. I attempt to treasure the smallest of life's victories when they happen, because it makes the iron clad pills of disappointment easier to swallow. However, with all of that said, and as trite as it seems, sometimes life's neccessities get in the way of life's gravity.
I'm lucky enough to have my own forces of gravity in this world. I have a snaggle toothed boy who reminds me to come down to earth and enjoy the simple things in life, like taking pleasure in watching a tower topple just as much as you relished its construction. I have a best friend who literally finds occasion to remind me to breathe. I have friends who help me keep grounded by loving the hell out of life with me. I have family who holds me together when I fall apart. And somehow, even though all these people tie me to the earth, keep me grounded, focused, and alive, they too help me to soar. But, I miss them. Life gets in the way.
I long to stop time for even a mere minute so I can focus on my gravity. If I had a whole twenty-four period, well, that would be heavenly. I'd wake up early and savor the quiet that is known only by the wee morning hours. I'd read a trashy novel and sip from a hot mug while I patiently waited for the world to wake up. I'd play with Rowan, really play with him. I wouldn't be distracted by email or work worries. I wouldn't rush to balance him on one hip and put makeup on. We'd cook breakfast together and giggle over blueberry pancakes. I wouldn't worry about the sticky mess of the syrup smeared on my shirt or living room. We'd leave the laundry and the dishes. Our beds would stay unmade. We'd race to the park for the best swing and roll in the grass. We'd meet our friends for lunch and laugh like we'd just learned how. We'd revel in the long country drive to my childhood home, singing at the top of our lungs. We'd cuddle with grandparents and I'd smile over sticky dinners of ice cream, cake, and popsicles. And, after Rowan was safely tucked away into his bed as he always is in my heart. I'd walk a slow, steady walk across the campus of my alma mater hand in hand with my love and relive all the things that brought me here. I'd lounge in gravity's arms and deeply inhale it. If I could suspend time, for those twenty-four hours, I'd love.
{Oh Yea, Well I've Got One Too}
In the summer of 1997, I was already gawky and awkward in that bookworm, girl who spends the summer with her grandparents, tween-age way. Looking back though, I knew more about being a woman in this world than I sometimes do now.
It was a great summer, one filled with some of my fondest memories. And, as usual, there were boys involved. Boys who taught me the value of sarcastic, snarky wit. Boys who laughed at my frilly outfits and pulled me down into the dirt. Boys who rolled down hills and walked in streams. Boys who had sisters to gossip with. Boys who talked me into walking through the sewer to get to the park more quickly, with only one sub par flashlight, which died halfway in, leaving us to feel our way out. Boys who challenged me. Boys who sparked my "I hate boys!" phase. Boys who became some of my best friends.
These boys were different, right from the start. These boys, having never seen me before, chased me home one hot summer afternoon in nothing but their cartoon character boxers and high powered super soakers. I was dripping, crying, and sprinting from these maniacal strangers. I lived in the country. People were nice and kind and I was a girl damnit. What were these boys thinking? I lept through my front door and did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed my own tiny squirt gun. I leaned out the window and screamed "Oh yea, well I've got one too and I'm not scared". I fruitlessly pulled the trigger and got no where near them. They moved closer so I could hear their jeers and laughter. At that point, genius struck. I went in to refill my weapon and also grabbed a few mixing bowls. The boys were reeled in closely taunting in perfect range for a quick bowl of water to the head. They laughed hystrically and, so did I.
Of all the things I learned that summer, of all the things those boys taught me, that was the most important lesson. I could have closed the door behind me and cried. I could have spent the summer indoors hiding from the hethens. Instead, when things got scary, I joined them at their game. I fought back and bent the rules. I didn't run and hide. Sometimes, even now, I forget this. I forget that a battle is best if fought passionately and without concern.
Lately though, I'm trying to be someone I'm proud of, who is strong and powerful. I'm aiming to be someone I trust with myself and whom my son can look up to. So, I keep reminding myself "I've got one too and I'm not scared".
{Things I say...}
- "He's totally cussing me out in Velociraptor right now."
- "I love a good book about teens in turmoil."
- "No! Rowan, you may not crawl on the wood floors without a diaper. You'll get a splinter in your penis. I don't even know how to get splinters out of those."
- "No, thanks. I'm not that thirsty. Plus, I'm trying not to have to pee today. It's too hard in this outfit. Skirt up, hose down, shimmying and shaking. It's just too hard. You know, like a bad rap song. "
- "Of course I was in the circus! Everyone was where I come from."
- "Oh, don't worry, you'll know when I stab you."
- "No, pelvis is not a dirty word. It's allowed in our book....Your pelvis is your hip bone. We've discussed this and even if we hadn't, why would I ask you to touch yourself in class. Believe it or not, I don't want you touching yourself in class. Students, please understand, do not touch yourself in class...No, you can't touch anyone else either. "
- "I wish I were home right now. Or, passed out from drinking a bucket of margaritas."
{Thankful on Thursday} Slightly late and bandwagon jumping, but that's me
Hi strangers! Remember me. It's been a while I know and I'm not even going to lie this time and say that I'll never leave again because chances are...I will. I adore writing. Period, with the word period to emphasize the period. However, lately, like the past six months life has really taken over. And, I hate that because writing is my me time, it's my decompression chamber, and when life is so screwy and I need it most, life rips the time away.
Moral of the story: I'm here today and I really long to be here tomorrow. Life, on occasion, needs to get the eff off my back.
Point of the story: I'm going to jump on the "Thankful on Thursday" bandwagon because when life sucks what is more neccessary than reminding ourselves of all life's beauty. Nothing. That's what. So here, in no particular order ,are the things I am especially, over the moon, thankful for this week.
*White Chocolate Carmel Cappucino on a crisp Fall morning. Even better, that it's delectable and from the gas station for a buck fifty. Take that overpriced coffee shops (who I love).
*Toothy grins that make me forget the worries of the world.
* A dayhome for the boy where I never, ever have to think twice about taking him.
*Family.
*Endless shimp @ Red Lobster, yes, I'm admittedly disgusting during this particular promo.
*A job that I L.O.V.E. and being lucky enough to have it in a time like this.
*These kids I GET to work with, they are the best. I hot neon pink puffy heart them. These so called "inner city, hormonal, juvenile deliquent, special, hoodrat, blah, blah, freaking blah" kids. They complete me. In a way I'm absolutely positive no one else ever will. They are good, loving, spectacular people.
*Fall. Freaking, OMG, I love fall. I saw leaves that had officially changed colors and fallen yesterday and I almost wrecked my car staring at their beauty, even if it was only like two.
*Still having the strength to believe.
*Cuddling on the couch in sweats with just me, a warm blanket, and full control of the remote.
*Amazing bloggers, and tweeters, who inspire me daily, who make me cry and laugh until I cry, who feel like friends I always knew I'd meet.
{I've Never Been Good @ Taking Sides}
So, I have no idea how I will pick between the needs of my (future) children. Last week, the husband and I went to a concert as part of our late anniversary celebration. It was tame, country, Rascal Flatts and Kellie Pickler. So there were families swarming around us.
Sidenote: Yes, I like country music amongst lots of other very different things. Emery's music taste is greatly different but it was the only concert at the state fair the night we would be there. So back to story.
Two rows in front of us there was an adorable family of four. Their daughter was maybe 7 and their son approximately 4. Although, I'm really bad at guessing ages so they could have been fourteen. I'm fairly confident they were under ten though and about two years apart. Long story longer, at first, the boy was really rocking out and having a blast. After the warm up act though, he and his dad kept disappearing. Once the main act took the stage the mom and sweet little girl jumped to their feet. They were singing at the top of their lungs and dancing. I seriously almost cried. It was just so amazingly endearing to me to see this mother bonding with her child in that way. The father and son returned and the little boy was clearly ready to leave. The mother was ripped from her fun and forced to drop her daughters hand to attempt to calm the boy down. He wasn't having it.
So, here's my dilemma, the purpose for the post. How do you choose? Do you take away one child's enjoyment of an event that they have certainly been looking forward to. Or, do you leave one child crying from exhaustion and frustration over all the noise. No matter what choice you make, what do you do to ensure the "losing" child doesn't resent the "winner"?
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