Happy Mothers D … zzzz
Ah Mothers Day.
Began at 5:30 for me – I tried to roll my eyes, but my eyeballs weren’t working yet.
Seriously – why the hell do I wake up so early?? Might have something to do with Butters staring at me.
The thing is, I begrudgingly get up, go to the bathroom – and by the time I have the wherewithal and balance to let her out, she’s gone back to sleep with her head on my side of the bed.
Right. That’s that then.
This morning was no different. Although, I had to wake Nic up so he could be sure he wasn’t working today.
Funny story about that … and it’s only funny in a ‘Ha! Now he is getting a taste of the ‘real world’ way’.
Yesterday he was late to work – he got a scolding for that (not from me – I’m amused on the sidelines, watching him learn from his mistakes) and then he proceeded in his naivety to advise them that he would be unable to work today as it is Mothers Day.
I settled in to the couch with a gleeful twinkle in my ‘you’ve got to be freaking kidding me’ eye, to hear what the response was.
“They told me I’m not the only person who has a mom.”
I couldn’t suppress a giggle.
Who knew that watching your child learn first hand all the things you tried to teach them would be so much fun??
“Aw! Nic, seems you’re learning that the only world that revolves around you is mine.”
Turned out he doesn’t work today – after he put a phone call in to his place of employment.
He is now honoring Mothers Day from the couch.
He’s going to kill me for that …
Notice the dog is also actively ignoring me – nose to the gap in the front door.
I called my mom – we have brunch plans (I’ll be sure to wake Nic up in time).
“Where is this ‘Bumlbeberries?'” I asked.
“It’s downstairs”
*sigh*
I didn’t even know what building I was going to …
“So, enter the chocolate factory and take what? A left or a right past the lickable wallpaper?”
Laughter from the other end of the phone.
I was serious. A bumbleberry sounds very ‘Wonka’ to me.
What in the world is it? And more importantly, are they going to have cake? Of the bumbleberry variety perhaps?
I asked.
“No, there’s no such thing. I looked it up.”
See – this is where I get my research gene from. I love that my mother took the time to look up ‘Bumbleberry’ just to see if one does in fact exist.
She’s looking forward to the crab legs and escargot. I’m looking forward to multiple trips to the buffet and photographing my food.
And of course, spending time with her.
And Nic.
If he ever wakes up.
Of Nuns and ipads …
Enjoyed a fleeting moment of time with my son last night. I was finishing up the last of the Call the Midwife episodes available currently on Netflix, and he joined me in watching it.
If you haven’t seen it – it takes place in a poor district of London during the 50’s, telling the story of midwives and the nuns of Nonnatus House, a nursing convent.
There was a scene when two nuns were discussing the decline of girls choosing that particular vocation.
My son uttered “Good!” from the couch opposite to me.
That didn’t sit well with me.
“You realize that when you vehemently oppose or degrade another point of view or belief, you are impacting the validity of your own? People who are confident in their beliefs, don’t feel the need to protest so much.”
This began a conversation that touched on Religion and Technology. Our views differed – and that was okay. The dialogue was amazing.
I am not a religious person. Organized religion is not for me. But, having said that, I have respect for those of Faith. I find facets of most religions to be interesting and good.
We spoke of the benefits of being raised with something to believe in.
Of there being a place in the heart of a community where people came together. We spoke of those who do evil in the name of their God.
We spoke of community, humanity and family.
Then technology.
My opinion was that community, humanity and family was being adversely affected by it.
My son disagreed and started to say that my opinion was formed unfairly.
I interrupted.
I told him my opinion was based on personal experience. I was reminded of this scene from Good Will Hunting.
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“So if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life’s work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I’ll bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that.”
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I have.
I have traveled – not just googled pictures of other countries.
I have helped those in need, not just clicked ‘like’ or ‘share’ on a cause on Facebook.
I have seen world events unfold before my eyes in the Middle East – not just read an edited version of the story online.
I pointed out that most nights, we sit with our ipads and when there is a ‘ding’ we are distracted.
I am guilty of this.
I’m guilty of typing out a quick ‘Happy Birthday’ on someone’s Facebook page, instead of taking the time to remember for myself, shop for a card – handwrite my best wishes. Guilty of Instant Messaging my own son when he is just a room away!
On a personal level, I reminded him we used to play. Together. We used to go places and give each other our full attention.
He argued that technology has brought more people together – and I could not deny that. I also cannot deny that technology is fun. Technology gives us access to information. But at what cost?
We play alone. We learn from other people’s information.
Spoon fed.
Increasingly forming foundations for values, opinions, and beliefs not from our own tangible experiences anymore.
That scares me.
Musings from the Laundromat: There’s something on your leg edition
Innocently driving home yesterday with my son … when something came from behind us, flew in the open window, smacked against the wind shield and landed in parts unknown.
Yes, I said ‘came from behind’ more on that later.
So we both acknowledged the ‘happening’ and exchanged glances. Then I put my eyes back on the road as Nic looked down.
“There’s something on your leg.”
Rule #1: Don’t ever tell someone driving a car that there is anything foreign and quite possibly alive ON them.
Me: What?!?!?! What’s on me????? What is it???
Nic: I don’t know … it’s a spot … on your leg.
By now, I’m imagining this:
I don’t think that’s too far-fetched considering we DO live in the desert and there are any number of hard-shelled creepy crawlies that could show up on a bare leg.
Okay, so 99% of them don’t FLY, but some sadistic bastard could have tossed it from the side of the road? That would explain why it came from behind us while going 35 MPH.
Back in the car, I’m calmly trying to pull over to investigate what part of nature has violated my personal space.
And why is my son so calm?? Why is he not trying to save me???
On the side of the road, I bravely look down.
Nothing.
“That was already there!” The spot turned out to be a scratch from earlier.
“Yeah, but that might be what flew in …”
I followed his eyes down to the floorboard – right next to my foot.
Got out of the car and grabbed a cloth I have handy in case of such emergencies (mostly it’s for when I spill my coffee while driving.)
A bee.
My son announced, “It’s still alive – it’s on it’s back.”
I could see this.
I gently (yes, gently, no sarcasm here) collected it in the cloth and walked to a nearby bush to shake the poor little thing off.
It wasn’t coming off.
Now I’m laughing – on the side of the road, shaking a blue cloth.
Bee hung on tight – until it didn’t.
I’m back in the car and we start off home again.
Nic pondered, “How did it come from BEHIND us?? It had to be going faster than us!”
“That’s not hard to believe …” I pondered back – recalling how many things pass me on the road – sloths, snails, limping pedestrians, … parked cars.
“Maybe it was suicide.” Nic concluded.
I sighed … “Bee suicide … that’s sad.”
Such compliment – much WOW
“So a dog walks into a lobby …”
My lobby to be exact, and I as soon as I laid eyes on said dog the internet nerd that I am, recognized the breed and ‘fan-girled’ the hell out.
“OMG! Is your dog friendly? Can I touch it? Can I take a photo of your dog?”
Yes it was, Yes I could, and sure.
This is the internet version:
Dog wasn’t too interested in me petting it … or touching it to be honest.
I don’t force myself on animals. I don’t grab at them, leer at them or invade their space.
I’m more of a ‘sit on the floor and offer an appendage then wait to see if they are interested in making contact’ type of girl.
So I sat on the floor, in my dress, wondering ‘why doesn’t this dog like me? ALL dogs like me!’ Lamely continuing to hold out my hand like there was a chance it would change its mind.
It didn’t.
I told my son about it – his response:
Is that bad? That my son and I speak ‘internet funnies’? I knew what he meant obviously. It’s one of my favorites:
So while it wasn’t in the mood for accepting my hand or my love, it was in the mood for a quick photo session.
Here’s the mini-Shiba Inu (“mini-SHIBE!”)
But I digress … about that compliment.
Later in the day, I’m sharing this story with an agent – showing him the photos of the mini-‘doge’ and he proceeds to give me the biggest compliment I’ve had in a very long time.
What you need to know about this man is that he’s very ‘what you see is what you get’ – to the point of having something awkward or unedited come out of his mouth from time to time.
(Gee, I’d know nothing about that – hold on, don’t slip on the sarcasm.)
Anyway, bottom line, he gets an A+ for authenticity from me.
I love that in a person.
Authenticity.
Love it.
So he’s reminded of a dog themed email he sent me and asks if I got it.
He went on to explain that he sent it because he was sorry he was grumpy that day.
The way he explained it went a little something like this.
“You’re the bright, shiny thing here … and I felt bad that I was grumpy.”
Wow.
I’m a bright shiny thing??
Day made.
I’m sharing this because too often we are unaware of what we may mean to someone.
And far too often we fail to tell someone what they mean to us.
I paid it forward by sharing with a dear friend how much they mean to me.
And then made sure to tell the man who complimented me just how much his words meant.
Good work should be complimented when noticed.
It just takes a few seconds to appreciate someone!
It took six seconds for someone to make my day – and I’m still feeling bright and shiny.
Even though the dog didn’t want me to pet it.
Worth Waiting For
I have very good instincts.
I have always been able to trust my gut – having said that, this does not mean I’ve always made the right choices.
In my past, I definitely self sabotaged. Let people into my life that satisfied a need to treat myself poorly or provided a lesson I needed to learn.
But, still I knew who they were and what I was getting into deep down.
I’m healthier now – I’ve worked out most of my demons – I’ve grown and blossomed.
I need to trust that – and not the opinions of others.
To be honest, this past year, I let doubt and negativity in and allowed my faith to waiver.
Not anymore.
I was never more certain my trust has been placed in the right hands than I was yesterday.
I was renewed with patience. With affirmation that what I’ve put my life on hold for is worth it. Not only is it worth it – it IS my life.
I couldn’t love someone who didn’t have a passion – who didn’t think of others or want to better the world by being of service somehow. Whether that be education, art, charity …
Selfishness is ugly.
There is nothing less attractive than a soul wrapped up in self.
I’ve felt guilty of this when I’ve privately pouted that I could not have the person I wait for sooner. The selfless thing to do IS to wait.
I feel with every fiber of my soul that what the object of my affection is doing something so much more important and so much bigger than ‘us’.
I do not say this as a martyr. I say this as an educated member of humanity. It is truth.
I can wait.
And I know what I’m waiting for is worth it. I know this.
And I know I can trust my instincts.
Debauchery Soup 