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Wait…is Old Cool or Not?

20 Dec

My daughter and I found this darling little ornament at a vintage Christmas sale.  We love shopping in antique stores, estate sales and thrift shops.  Each trip is like a treasure hunt and we can linger for hours among “old stuff”.  But the irony of this faddish vintage craving of my 18 year old daughter amuses me. 

She has boldly laid claim to pieces of the family heirlooms we have in our home “when I’m gone” and regularly announces plans to take the antique iron bed frame, the vintage slipper chair and other treasures from our home “when she moves out”. It’s not that I mind these references to life without mom, nor do I feel at risk of a sudden unfortunate demise. No, this allure of “old things” by my youngest is more like a play I sit and watch, wondering if the final scenes will surprise with a sudden twist of story.

Not yet even 50, my husband and I are reminded often that we are “old”.  Nevermind that the things we played with in our homes as children are showing up in those vintage stores…we are not old!  At least not in our own mind.  In fact, on the verge of an empty nest before we turn 50 holds so much possibility, we are nearly giddy with the thought. Listen, don’t judge, we adore our children, but come on…who wants them to live at home forever?

Anyway, because I love antiques as well, this is a fun phase for me.  But I wonder, in the final scenes of this drama, if my husband and I become cool as well?  I won’t worry about it.  In the meantime, I’ll just enjoy these moments with my kids.  You know, for young ones, they are pretty cool.

 

A few of my favorite things

2 Dec

It’s December! There is something about this time of year that makes me just plain happy. Everything about this season holds a bit of hope, thrill and delight to me. Sure, I’m a grown woman with grown children, but you’re never too old to believe. These are some of my favorite things:

1. I adore my family. They are my favorite company, friends and fans of Elf, sappy Hallmark movies and treats.

2. I am so grateful for my job. I get to represent an amazing organization that takes care of kids. And part of my job is getting to receive blessing after blessing from our community for the kids. It is moving to see the goodness and kindness of others!

3. I love, love Christmas music. Oh Holy Night is my all time fav. I remember as a kid caroling through the neighborhood with my siblings. Not sure if we sounded good, but we were convinced we were making others merry! For the life of me, I still don’t know what “figgy pudding” is. Pretty sure It’s NOT on my favorite list.

4. I love my neighbors! I’m so blessed to have the greatest family behind us. Their little three year old came in and saw our tree. She picked an ornament off the tree and asked, “can I borrow this?”. That kid could have my kidney if she asked. Absolute innocence and joy makes me smile.

What do you like about this time of year?

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Hunt & Gather – Musing About Black Friday Shoppers

25 Nov

It’s Thanksgiving. Well, technically it is the wee hours of the morning after Thanksgiving. I’m giggling silly in the aisles of Target and it is nearing 4 am. I’m not quite to the can’t-stop-giggling-no-way-in-hell-I’m-losing-my-place-in-line-to-run-to-the-bathroom stage, but given enough time, I could get there easily.

Snaking our way through the rest of the questionably sane humanity trying to save five bucks by waiting in line for hours, we have opened our box of pop tarts and are snacking. Three nearly grown kids and I are really buying stuff that is not such a great deal, but I refuse to do this and come back without a kill!

I ponder this ritual and can only assume it’s some primal connection to our prehistoric instinct to “hunt and gather”. As I observe, there are a few distinct types of post-Thanksgiving meal shoppers that emerge.

1. The Trophy Hunter – armed with lists, coupons and exact strategy to each stop, this shopper easily maneuvers the crowds with their eye on specific targets. The big prize. They know what they are after and with laser like focus remain fixed on the best kill. Be cautioned, trampling, shoving and camping may be involved.

2. The “If It Moves Shoot It” Hunter – driven merely by the idea of life-changing savings, this shopper wanders the aisles, flitting from end cap to end cap and throwing anything with a red sticker or sign into their cart. They are typically the ones that clip your heels with their cart as they drive without watching the road.

3. The Socialite – content with the “let’s bond with fourteen thousand of our closest friends” concept, these are the shoppers who try on every hat, cluelessly block the aisles to stop and visit with Susie from the gym and blissfully wander in their bubble, sharing gossip and Starbucks with their fellow warriors.

4. And finally, The Hunter Becomes the Hunted – seriously, at 1:30 in the morning with dozens of people in line, you choose now to do a return? Enough said.

So to all you successful shoppers out there, here’s to your finds and the good times on gathering them!

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Help! Someone Save Me From Myself

25 Oct

After a relatively crazy travel schedule, I told the boss, I need some time off.  So, I planned four days off at home.  Four. Full. Days.  For a working mother, heck a woman at all, that is a luxury!  I imagine the scene, almost in slow motion.  A June Cleaver grin spreads across my face as I dream of the lingering at home, the perfectly clean home, meals prepared, the entire day in my pjs (OK, that’s NOT June Cleaver, but she wasn’t real anyway).  I’ll take a nap, do some crafts, bake, relax….well, you get the idea. Feeling like a child at Christmas, I almost giggle to myself imaging FOUR-FULL-DAYS to reign in my home. Alone. Doing whatever I please.

Because I can’t ever just “settle down”, I vacuum and dust the whole house, finish the dishes and shine the counters so I can relax. Once things feel relatively peaceful, I seek for the ever elusive, magical kingdom called, a NAP.  (Insert sound of angelic hosts and a soft glow here).  I’ve kicked my shoes off, settled in to my bed, little dog by my side, big dog on her bed.  Deep exhale as I let myself go.  I’m drifting, drifting, BAM! Eyes wide open like a gunshot went off, I jump up to go switch the load of laundry. After all, I can’t relax if I think about those clothes growing sour with time. Then, I’ll settle back down and rest for real.

Take 2 – settle in, deep exhale, drif….BAM! Phone rings in the other room.  What if it’s the kids. They need me.  I dash out of bed to answer…was a survey.  Sorry about the curt refusal honey, you called me back from the magic kingdom for this???!!!

Take 3 – settle in, deep…BAM! Dogs hear something and begin to bark! It’s a knock on the door.  I put on my best smile through annoyance and open the front door.  Really? Really?  Sure I’ll buy your $20 bag of carmel corn to help the Cub Scouts. Now leave me alone!

Take 4 – Settle in, ah, hell.  Who am I fooling?  Get up to begin dinner and fold the laundry.

Unfortunate genetics (sorry mom!) or personality has to be the blame.  Try as I might, relaxing and doing nothing fits like a square peg in my round world.  Somebody save me from myself!

Don’t tell me I can’t….please.

16 Oct

I sat recently in a session about young philanthropists and the power of Generation Y that changed my life. I know, you’re probably thinking…. “Whoa, now… don’t be so melodramatic!” Seriously, in thirty minutes, Lee Fox of KooDooz shared story after story about children who have raised millions and millions of dollars to help our world, homelessness, disaster relief at such a speed that you felt you were drinking from a firehouse.

At some point, you have to stop the twitter posts and set your notes down and just let the words sink, rattle around and have their impact.

In her summary of the world events that these change-makers grew up within, she mentioned that these under 18year olds are not discouraged by those who tell them they can’t, because they have grown up believing in the power of one and that every single person can change the world. It’s not about fame and recognition, it is just the right thing to do!

At some level you sit there deciding, as a responsible, too-busy-with-life-to-get-involved adult, if you are ashamed, inspired or just have a renewed hope in our own ability to make a difference. More, a renewed hope in mankind. And that’s what marinated all night on my soul and heart and what has led me to this revivalist claim today, “I’ve been changed!”.

I was reminded of my own passions for change that I have sidelined for any number of worthy excuses and was re-energized to push back against those who say, “you can’t”. You see, I realized I have lost my fight, my spunk, the hunger to do better, to help others, to make a difference and I have reduced my existence to a mealy form of complacency. To quote my new heroes and mentors, “ewwww, gross”!

My name is Sally, and my life’s dream is to more like a fifth grader!
@KooDooz for full info and stories

The Trip of Our Dreams

12 Oct

My youngest is embarking on a trip of a lifetime. She is even getting to miss school for it!

She’s signed up to join a humanitarian project in Jamaica (Great Shape, Inc.) and will spend 10 days in a third world country helping teach literacy and reading to children. It will change her life, I’m certain.

As a senior in high school who has grown up with more than her fair share of blessings, this little fashion-diva-turned-humanitarian is in for some amazing education. I can’t wait to hear the stories, to see the expression on her face as she retells of her experiences and the want in her voice to return another time. I expect it.

This little girl (ahem, young lady) of mine has wanted to be a teacher for as long as she could talk. In every bedroom, closet or home we’ve lived in, she has set up classrooms and diligently taught her bears, dolls and occasionally the cat, about math, reading and other important lessons in “school”. This year she volunteers three days a week in a classroom and helps children with their projects, reading and is learning the ways of a young teacher and loving it!

My daughter, the lay in bed and plan out every detail of the day daughter, is indeed in for an education. The “unplannable”  hurry up and wait, the unpredictable and the beautiful brown eyes of a child will change her for ever.

Upon her return she already has it planned out. She will write her essay for college applications and tell of the life-transforming trip of our dreams. I’m certain it will be a very inspiring read!

Next year, I’ll plan to return with her.

Knocking on the cerebral gates of teens

14 Jan

Rolling eyes and sagging posture are nothing new when we discuss our “words” with our not-quite-child-not-yet-adult teen offspring.

“It’s not just what you say, it’s how you say it,” we implore. There are times I swear that unseen to the eyes of a nagging (ahem, educating) parent, a tiny “no vacancy” sign is posted at the cerebral gates of teens. Do they really have no attention for “tone of voice” or feelings in others? Perhaps.

Then I’m forced to take a look at our adult life; our adult habits that we establish as the example. A talk show host opins that, “teens can’t communicate or use vocabulary anymore because of technology.” Celebrity shows tear people apart for their outfit, their bad hair day, their cellulite. News programs, politics and television are full of negativity, gossip, criticism, anger, teasing and intolerance. What about our own conversations in the home? How many times have I had a “tone” to my voice that I intended in every way it was received? Where did our kids learn to use their words – both spoken and unspokane?

Albeit not perfect, I am proud of two relatively decent humans we have raised. They do care about others. They do communicate and use language and they do, despite their best defenses, occasionally absorb a little of our “wisdom” at their cerebral gates.

I can tell by the fact that they sit and talk with us at the dinner table. They have an opinion about the news or religion or business or politics. They are friends to others. They react when things are not fair or don’t make sense. They respond when we are trying to pull one over on them and preach what we don’t practice. They are prepared to be successful because they aren’t afraid to challenge the emptiness of our words at times.

Perhaps that little sign at their gates is more accurately posted as “no vacancy” for hollow words.

Be careful little ears what you hear.

11 Jan

The events of the week have prompted me to revisit a paper and presentation I prepared during my Masters program at Gonzaga.  The topic was “bullying in schools.”  The project, prompted at the time by the horrific burns of a teen boy who was set on fire by others in FL, was a passionate pursuit as a mother, friend, human to answer the question, ”How have we gotten here?” I believe the incomprehensible shootings in Tucson, AZ this week have us asking it again.

Safe Schools Coalition reports that students who are subjected to bullying are more likely to carry weapons to school, binge drink, use drugs heavily, take sexual risks and think about or plan suicide (Safe Schools Coalition, 2007). The targeted students suffer physically, emotionally and mentally and are shown to be less likely to finish school or hold jobs later in life (Safe Schools Coalition, 2007).

In order to address this serious issue, we have to honestly take a look at our own lives first…even if we ourselves are indicted in the process.  ”What? Me? I’m not a bully.  I think it’s terrible!”  Good, that’s a start, but what have we allowed in our own homes, schools, businesses, churches (gasp! you can’t go there…sorry, especially here), communities?

I do not believe that bullying exists in a vacuum or that it is an isolated attitude or behavior.  Rather, bullying is rooted in prejudice and stereotyping and it begins with labeling. We must take a stand against all forms of bullying in order to stop violence in schools, in our communities. That change needs to start with parents, leaders, faculty, student leaders, our own families if we hope to see a change in this world.

Brenda Allen in her book, Difference Matters, Communicating Social Identity, states that “once a person is labeled (e.g. as ‘gifted and talented’ or as ‘developmentally challenged’), that individual’s identity becomes fixed, and the label can forever have positive or negative impacts” (Allen, 2004, p.27).

Do we really believe we have that much power?  

If we listen to ourselves and how we label things, how we communicate, what words we choose to describe things we don’t like…we just might hear a few things that are alarming!  Better yet, listen to what your little ones are saying and you’ll know exactly how you speak at home.  Nothing like a three-year old to ensure some humility!

Being the mom of teens, one of my least favorite terms that had its day was “retarded.”  That word was used to describe everything from a dance move, shirt food, television show and nearly everything else between. As a former therapist, I quietly breathed a prayer of thanks when that word lost its savor.  Now they are compelled to utter “gay” as the current adjective of choice.  Sigh…it’s a process. We continue to work on the language of all us at home!

But that leads me to my point.  We have to recognize the great power to build or destroy that comes with our communication…and we must commit to use it with care and love!

Be aware of how you speak, label, communicate.  Mind your words and I believe that is the first step to curbing bullying.  Maybe there is something to the golden rule after all.

If you’re still unsure, have a three-year old around for a bit….they’ll teach you everything you need to know about your language!

How did we get here?

29 Dec

This is a repost from my original blog – approximately one year ago.

http://farmsonfivemile.blogspot.com/2009/12/challenging-times-call-for-seeing.html

Looking UP in to the face of my first born, I realize…things will never be the same.  Not that they have been, but in my mind I seek same-ness, I cling to thoughts of when he was little and forget all of the little steps along the way.  How did we get here…talking about his first place, future plans, buying a car, etc.? 

Well, I guess it was the accumulation of those seemingly little things. The things that are easy to forget, but the very things that shaped our relationship.  The first ear infection, the family trips, building sand castles on the beach, scolding you to sit still and quiet through a boring sermon, your first dog, unteaching you to give “head butts” in the face, riding the bike, helping with homework, moving and moving again, teaching you to cook and do laundry, heart to heart talks at bed time and a million other times in between.

Although I swore I would never say this, it seems like you were just a baby.  And yes, there are times when I wish I could do it over again. But when I really stop to think I realize, no, I wouldn’t want to do it over. Sure there have been mistakes, failures and bumps along the way, but I am proud of you son. I’m proud of the person you are. You have a good heart. You’re respectful, playful, gentle yet competitive, smart and a really great person. You care – and that matters a great deal in life.

So I watch as you begin plans to begin on your own and think, I am so lucky.  Lucky to have a nice kid who I enjoy and who will change this world in his own way.  A kid who will be the best friend, the sweetheart to someone, the strength to others. How did we get here?  On a journey of a lot of moments and a lot of love.

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