“We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day." Edith Lovejoy Pierce
What do you want to write on the blank pages of your book in the coming year?
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Things on Thursday: Furry Things
A Furry Lap Warmer:
My mother, who is always freezing in our house, got a nice warm puppy on her lap. We keep our house quite cold year-round in deference to George's nordic genes, so my southern mother is perpetually cold when she visits. Sorry, Mom.
Furry Friends:
Mom's dog Lolly has gotten along beautifully with the Furry Golden Sunshine. We weren't sure how it would go because Lolly is eight and an only dog while Daisy is seven months and a pretty socialized dog who expects everyone and every animal to love her excessively. No worries. Lolly and Daisy play tug together, eat happily out of the same bowl together, beg together, and, of course, sleep together.
But Daisy is a Princess who loves the entire universe with an enthusiasm unparalleled in mammalian history and therefore expects massive quantities of love back from everyone in it. She puts herself between Lolly and my mother, demanding pats from mom while Lolly looks on. Daisy always wants to know where Lolly is, to make sure she's not getting the love that should, rightfully, fall on the Princess.
Lolly's entire universe is my mother. She's a friendly dog, but her whole being is a compass needle pointing north to my mother. Fortunately, she's secure enough in Mom's love that she can share Mom without undo possessiveness.
It's been hysterical watching the two furry things work out a friendship.
What things are interesting to you today?
My mother, who is always freezing in our house, got a nice warm puppy on her lap. We keep our house quite cold year-round in deference to George's nordic genes, so my southern mother is perpetually cold when she visits. Sorry, Mom.
Furry Friends:
Mom's dog Lolly has gotten along beautifully with the Furry Golden Sunshine. We weren't sure how it would go because Lolly is eight and an only dog while Daisy is seven months and a pretty socialized dog who expects everyone and every animal to love her excessively. No worries. Lolly and Daisy play tug together, eat happily out of the same bowl together, beg together, and, of course, sleep together.
But Daisy is a Princess who loves the entire universe with an enthusiasm unparalleled in mammalian history and therefore expects massive quantities of love back from everyone in it. She puts herself between Lolly and my mother, demanding pats from mom while Lolly looks on. Daisy always wants to know where Lolly is, to make sure she's not getting the love that should, rightfully, fall on the Princess.
Lolly's entire universe is my mother. She's a friendly dog, but her whole being is a compass needle pointing north to my mother. Fortunately, she's secure enough in Mom's love that she can share Mom without undo possessiveness.
It's been hysterical watching the two furry things work out a friendship.
What things are interesting to you today?
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Things I Learned in 2010
In no particular order, here are some things I learned (or relearned) in 2010.
One thing people can do after they lose a loved one is open their hearts to love someone new. Ask my mom, whose baby grandson was born six months after her own mother died, and ask our family, who welcomed Daisy into our home three weeks after Hoover died. The pain of loss doesn’t go away, and someone new doesn’t replace someone gone at all, but someone new helps the heart grow new love. And that’s a good thing.
When someone unsubscribes from one of my blogs, it’s nothing personal. At least, that's what I tell myself.
There are definitely more nice people in the world than mean people, though I admit some mean people can definitely screw it up for the rest of us. I’d started to doubt the general goodness of humanity while listening to regular news outlets and their sensational stories of greed, corruption, political bad boys, economic misery, and death and destruction. As an antidote to all the negativity, I made http://www.happynews.com/ my home page on my computer. I started getting a daily dose of, well, happy news. Stories of goodness, mercy, compassion, and love are everywhere in this world…if you look and listen in the right places. Ignoring the bad in the world is rather stupid, but if you fill your mind and heart with only knowledge of the bad, you lose perspective, which is a terribly important thing to have.
Rescuing wildlife makes you feel good. Releasing that rescued wildlife back into the wild after it has recovered makes you feel giddy and causes you to erupt in giggle fits for days after.
The whole Word for the Year thing is not working for me. I’m sad about this because it’s such a wonderful idea. My word for 2010 was Write, and while I did write quite a lot here and on Simplicity, I didn’t work on my book or start freelancing, which were the goals of the word in the first place. Also, my autism blog is suffering sadly from neglect. Oddly, I look back over 2010 with joy and pleasure despite this failure because I did a lot that I’m proud of. I took care of two boys, a man, and two dogs. I blogged over 233 posts on Questioning my Intelligence and over 427 posts on Simplicity. I created hundreds of cards and pushed my creative self harder than ever before. I read dozens of books. I learned and laughed and lived and drank coffee and ate chocolate. I ironed George’s shirts, made his lunches, and was his Iron Sherpa at Ironman Wisconsin. I received countless little kindnesses…even from total strangers from the Land of Internet. I cooked several meals and coordinated meals for dozens of people in our church. I finished another year-long Bible study. I spoke in church and didn’t die from fear. I mourned one very good dog and welcomed another into our home. I helped release a wild animal back into nature where he belonged. I sent a lot of cards this year, including hundreds to the troops for their use, and hopefully, each card brightened its recipient’s day.
I once heard that to be happy, every day you need to do something for someone else, something for your mind, something for your body, something for your soul, something creative, and something you don’t want to do which needs to be done. After this year, I would add that you also need to look at everything that happens to you and everything you do through a prism of love. I used to think the best prayer ever was “This, too, shall pass.” It’s pretty useful, isn’t it? Now, however, I think the best prayer ever is “Lord, make me a blessing to someone today.” Maintaining this loving perspective on life twenty-four/seven is pretty much impossible (at least for me and probably for any other mostly normal human being), but it’s amazing how transformative it can be. At least, it makes ironing shirts much more pleasant, which can only be a good thing.
When you have an impulse to do something nice, don’t over-think it and wimp out. Just do it.
For the past 11 years, since I became a stay-at-home mother, I’d felt my life made very poor copy in our annual Christmas letter. The day-to-day of caring for two boys just isn’t that interesting; you can only say so much about diapers and potty training and gymnastics lessons and school. For the past two-and-a-half years, I’ve written that mundane life into this blog, making it funny (I hope) and universal, and showing just how meaningful and important it is. This year, my children reached ages that require less daily dependence on me, and so I branched out and started some new things, such as the Mark’s Finest Papers Design Team (for creative development) and Stephen Ministry training (for spiritual and interpersonal development). To varying degrees, both adventures have been life-changing in wonderful ways. Who knows what 2011 will hold, but it’s bound to be interesting!
Next week, I'll post a new Word of the Year. I think. At least I'll give all of you who have more success with your words a chance to share your word and commit to it for 2011. Have a very safe and happy new year's celebration!
One thing people can do after they lose a loved one is open their hearts to love someone new. Ask my mom, whose baby grandson was born six months after her own mother died, and ask our family, who welcomed Daisy into our home three weeks after Hoover died. The pain of loss doesn’t go away, and someone new doesn’t replace someone gone at all, but someone new helps the heart grow new love. And that’s a good thing.
When someone unsubscribes from one of my blogs, it’s nothing personal. At least, that's what I tell myself.
There are definitely more nice people in the world than mean people, though I admit some mean people can definitely screw it up for the rest of us. I’d started to doubt the general goodness of humanity while listening to regular news outlets and their sensational stories of greed, corruption, political bad boys, economic misery, and death and destruction. As an antidote to all the negativity, I made http://www.happynews.com/ my home page on my computer. I started getting a daily dose of, well, happy news. Stories of goodness, mercy, compassion, and love are everywhere in this world…if you look and listen in the right places. Ignoring the bad in the world is rather stupid, but if you fill your mind and heart with only knowledge of the bad, you lose perspective, which is a terribly important thing to have.
Rescuing wildlife makes you feel good. Releasing that rescued wildlife back into the wild after it has recovered makes you feel giddy and causes you to erupt in giggle fits for days after.
The whole Word for the Year thing is not working for me. I’m sad about this because it’s such a wonderful idea. My word for 2010 was Write, and while I did write quite a lot here and on Simplicity, I didn’t work on my book or start freelancing, which were the goals of the word in the first place. Also, my autism blog is suffering sadly from neglect. Oddly, I look back over 2010 with joy and pleasure despite this failure because I did a lot that I’m proud of. I took care of two boys, a man, and two dogs. I blogged over 233 posts on Questioning my Intelligence and over 427 posts on Simplicity. I created hundreds of cards and pushed my creative self harder than ever before. I read dozens of books. I learned and laughed and lived and drank coffee and ate chocolate. I ironed George’s shirts, made his lunches, and was his Iron Sherpa at Ironman Wisconsin. I received countless little kindnesses…even from total strangers from the Land of Internet. I cooked several meals and coordinated meals for dozens of people in our church. I finished another year-long Bible study. I spoke in church and didn’t die from fear. I mourned one very good dog and welcomed another into our home. I helped release a wild animal back into nature where he belonged. I sent a lot of cards this year, including hundreds to the troops for their use, and hopefully, each card brightened its recipient’s day.
I once heard that to be happy, every day you need to do something for someone else, something for your mind, something for your body, something for your soul, something creative, and something you don’t want to do which needs to be done. After this year, I would add that you also need to look at everything that happens to you and everything you do through a prism of love. I used to think the best prayer ever was “This, too, shall pass.” It’s pretty useful, isn’t it? Now, however, I think the best prayer ever is “Lord, make me a blessing to someone today.” Maintaining this loving perspective on life twenty-four/seven is pretty much impossible (at least for me and probably for any other mostly normal human being), but it’s amazing how transformative it can be. At least, it makes ironing shirts much more pleasant, which can only be a good thing.
When you have an impulse to do something nice, don’t over-think it and wimp out. Just do it.
For the past 11 years, since I became a stay-at-home mother, I’d felt my life made very poor copy in our annual Christmas letter. The day-to-day of caring for two boys just isn’t that interesting; you can only say so much about diapers and potty training and gymnastics lessons and school. For the past two-and-a-half years, I’ve written that mundane life into this blog, making it funny (I hope) and universal, and showing just how meaningful and important it is. This year, my children reached ages that require less daily dependence on me, and so I branched out and started some new things, such as the Mark’s Finest Papers Design Team (for creative development) and Stephen Ministry training (for spiritual and interpersonal development). To varying degrees, both adventures have been life-changing in wonderful ways. Who knows what 2011 will hold, but it’s bound to be interesting!
Next week, I'll post a new Word of the Year. I think. At least I'll give all of you who have more success with your words a chance to share your word and commit to it for 2011. Have a very safe and happy new year's celebration!
Monday, December 27, 2010
Gratitude Journal #72
Today, I am grateful for Christmas and everything associated with it this year (including a giant standing rib roast, a giant new television, and a light blue fleece shirt that feels like a cozy hug from my sister), for my mother who is visiting, and for hope, peace, joy, and love.
Today, I am grateful for you. You're reading this. And I hope you'll share what you are grateful for in the comments because this is a season that feeds on gratitude. The more you hear it, read it, and see it, the more you feel it.
So, grow the world's grateful heart today and tell me what are you grateful for.
Today, I am grateful for you. You're reading this. And I hope you'll share what you are grateful for in the comments because this is a season that feeds on gratitude. The more you hear it, read it, and see it, the more you feel it.
So, grow the world's grateful heart today and tell me what are you grateful for.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Words, Words, Words for Christmas
"To us a Child is born, to us a Son is given; and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:6
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Things on Thursday: A Skeleton
Yes, I know it's two days until Christmas, a holiday notorious for its lack of skeletons, but this fence-wire skeleton we saw at COSI in Columbus, Ohio, today left me speechless, not only for its scale (100 feet long) but for its magnificent artistic beauty.
This is just the hand...I had to take giant steps back just to get all of it in the frame. The artist is Tim Rietenbach, and what a fabulous vision of our skeletal framework he has.
If you're ever in Columbus, definitely stop by COSI and check out this amazing work. In fact all the exhibits we saw today were fabulous.
This is just the hand...I had to take giant steps back just to get all of it in the frame. The artist is Tim Rietenbach, and what a fabulous vision of our skeletal framework he has.
If you're ever in Columbus, definitely stop by COSI and check out this amazing work. In fact all the exhibits we saw today were fabulous.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Believing
Monday, Nick showed me his letter to Santa. It included, among other things, a request for Santa to say hello to Mrs. Claus, detailed directions to our house (continent, country, state, county, town, neighborhood, street and number), and candy canes for Santa and Mrs. Claus.
A sweet bribe never hurt, eh?
Nick used his best handwriting, which is a big deal for Mr. Chicken Scratch. He left the letter with our Elf on the Shelf, Chris, so he could hand-deliver it to Santa that night. It seemed safer to him than taking his chances with the United States Postal Service.
Tuesday morning, I slept in, something I almost never do and which left me more disoriented than usual. I staggered downstairs and started making coffee. That’s when Nick assaulted me with the following question:
“Mom, is Santa real?”
WHAT?!?! Hello, I haven’t even had my coffee yet—it’s not even made, for heaven’s sake—and you’re springing this on me. Totally not fair.
I tried every circumlocution my tired brain could muster, including the decisive “Santa doesn’t bring presents to children who don’t believe in him!” Nick would not be deterred.
“Mom, is there a man in a red suit who delivers toys to children in a reindeer-driven sleigh? I have to know the TRUTH!”
So I told him.
And he cried. He threw his arms around me and cried.
I cried, too.
Then, he got mad. “I wish I’d known YEARS ago,” he wailed.
Honestly, his response caught me totally by surprise. You see, I never had an epiphany about Santa. I just gradually realized that Mom was Santa. My sister and I kept up the illusion of believing for years because it made Mom happy. We even gave her a picture of the two of us as teenagers sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall. I’ve heard of families rejecting Santa and raising their children without him, but I’d always thought those families were a bit Scrooge-ish. It never occurred to me (or George, for that matter) to think we’d been lied to.
When I asked Nick if he was angry at me, he said, “No! I’m angry at whoever wrote ‘Twas the Night before Christmas. He lied to kids. That’s just wrong!”
At this point, I explained very clearly that Santa symbolizes the spirit of Christmas and God’s gift of His Son, and that spirit is very much present and alive and real every time someone gives a gift. Children have a hard time understanding what the gift of Baby Jesus really means (a lot of adults grapple with this, too), and that difficult concept is made understandable to children through the story of Santa and his gifts. I also explained that St. Nicholas was a real man who lived in the 4th century and was known for giving presents. That man died, but his spirit lives on in the myth of Santa Claus.
Nick liked this explanation but was still angry, and when I asked why, he said, “Everyone at school was saying he’s not real, and I said he was.”
This made sense to me. He’s been defending Santa against the unbelievers, and now he felt a bit childish and silly…a hard feeling for a kid who wants desperately to be grown up.
So I suggested, “All you have to say when someone says Santa isn’t real is that the spirit of Santa most certainly is real. That is true and anyone who doesn’t believe it is really sad and you should feel sorry for them.”
I was taken aback by how quickly Nick accepted my explanation. He’s now at an age when he can understand symbolic thought, and this both excites me and makes me sad. As an English literature junky, I live and breath symbolic thinking. As a mother, I want my children’s innocent acceptance of this delightful story to continue forever.
At lunch, Nick sat at the table, smiling. He then, out of the blue, declared, “I’m so HAPPY!”
Whew. Christmas isn’t ruined.
But from now on, when a child assaults me before I’ve had my coffee, I’m playing for time.
A sweet bribe never hurt, eh?
Nick used his best handwriting, which is a big deal for Mr. Chicken Scratch. He left the letter with our Elf on the Shelf, Chris, so he could hand-deliver it to Santa that night. It seemed safer to him than taking his chances with the United States Postal Service.
Tuesday morning, I slept in, something I almost never do and which left me more disoriented than usual. I staggered downstairs and started making coffee. That’s when Nick assaulted me with the following question:
“Mom, is Santa real?”
WHAT?!?! Hello, I haven’t even had my coffee yet—it’s not even made, for heaven’s sake—and you’re springing this on me. Totally not fair.
I tried every circumlocution my tired brain could muster, including the decisive “Santa doesn’t bring presents to children who don’t believe in him!” Nick would not be deterred.
“Mom, is there a man in a red suit who delivers toys to children in a reindeer-driven sleigh? I have to know the TRUTH!”
So I told him.
And he cried. He threw his arms around me and cried.
I cried, too.
Then, he got mad. “I wish I’d known YEARS ago,” he wailed.
Honestly, his response caught me totally by surprise. You see, I never had an epiphany about Santa. I just gradually realized that Mom was Santa. My sister and I kept up the illusion of believing for years because it made Mom happy. We even gave her a picture of the two of us as teenagers sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall. I’ve heard of families rejecting Santa and raising their children without him, but I’d always thought those families were a bit Scrooge-ish. It never occurred to me (or George, for that matter) to think we’d been lied to.
When I asked Nick if he was angry at me, he said, “No! I’m angry at whoever wrote ‘Twas the Night before Christmas. He lied to kids. That’s just wrong!”
At this point, I explained very clearly that Santa symbolizes the spirit of Christmas and God’s gift of His Son, and that spirit is very much present and alive and real every time someone gives a gift. Children have a hard time understanding what the gift of Baby Jesus really means (a lot of adults grapple with this, too), and that difficult concept is made understandable to children through the story of Santa and his gifts. I also explained that St. Nicholas was a real man who lived in the 4th century and was known for giving presents. That man died, but his spirit lives on in the myth of Santa Claus.
Nick liked this explanation but was still angry, and when I asked why, he said, “Everyone at school was saying he’s not real, and I said he was.”
This made sense to me. He’s been defending Santa against the unbelievers, and now he felt a bit childish and silly…a hard feeling for a kid who wants desperately to be grown up.
So I suggested, “All you have to say when someone says Santa isn’t real is that the spirit of Santa most certainly is real. That is true and anyone who doesn’t believe it is really sad and you should feel sorry for them.”
I was taken aback by how quickly Nick accepted my explanation. He’s now at an age when he can understand symbolic thought, and this both excites me and makes me sad. As an English literature junky, I live and breath symbolic thinking. As a mother, I want my children’s innocent acceptance of this delightful story to continue forever.
At lunch, Nick sat at the table, smiling. He then, out of the blue, declared, “I’m so HAPPY!”
Whew. Christmas isn’t ruined.
But from now on, when a child assaults me before I’ve had my coffee, I’m playing for time.
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