A good friend of mine sends me the following commentary: "I have come to the conclusion that I need to buy a new belt. A new belt that's a little bit longer. I am sort of OK with that."
I feel her pain. I've worked hard to gain the weight I've put on in the last three months. Cripe. I've EARNED it.
As soon as I finish reading my friend's message, I sprint out the door. Carpool time!
As I am backing out, I notice the gate opener is not in its usual place. I search the other visor, the console and the passenger seat. No controller.
I jam the car into "Park", run back into the house and shout "MIKE! Do you know where the gate opener is?"
His response: "In the seat?!" The answer is more than laced with sarcasm.
Not one to back down in the sarcasm-response department I yell back: "So you mean to tell me my butt* has gotten so big that I couldn't feel the remote when I sat on it?" My voice creates a nervous, pseudo-laugh as I yell this.
Response from somewhere in the bowels of the house: "YUP."
I don't have time to argue the point about him thinking my butt is big, given his response.
Now back in the car, remote returned to its upright and locked position, I listen to a news report. I hear that a man has been arrested for pinching the butt of a lady in line ahead of him. Problem is, the posterior he chose to squeeze is attached to a female cop. IN UNIFORM. Um, DUH?!?!
To this very odd little person who needs an education on uniforms I say: Mister? If you feel the need to pinch a little arse, you really should pick someone like me.
Someone whose bottom is so buried in fat that it has surpassed the ability to feel the remote I just sat on.
To my belt-challenged friend: I salute you, sister of the traveling Oreo ball! I feel your pain during this calorie-laden, fat-inducing season. And I'm 100% behind** any ideas we might come up with at lunch tomorrow*** to get control of our wayward bodies in 2010.
But we must be quick--BEFORE someone decides to get all fresh with me and my larger-than-life hiney.
*Not the word I used. I'm attempting to tame the cussing beast and am starting with the written word. Before it costs me quarters. Starting in a measly 15 days.
**Pun only partially intended.
***Dessert not optional. It's Christmastime, by golly!
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Lessons from a First Grader
I am invariably amazed when my kids learn something that I think they are too young to know. Now matter how much we try to shelter them from direct exposure, in the form of movies, TV, radio, etc, there will always be someone in their class at school who can educate them on the "finer" points of life.
This classroom education always comes from an expert. You know the type: a cute first grader with a brother who is sixteen. A teenager with a mean streak who thinks it is hysterical to teach the little guy how to fart with just his hand and armpit. Or who teaches cuss words in anticipation of a Sunday morning trip to join Great-Grammy Cooper at the Southern Baptist Church of Podunk.
Yeah, that type of kid ALWAYS seems drawn to my kid. And my kid thinks buddies of this ilk are geniuses in seven-year-old skin. In kid-speak, a genius is someone who knows way cooler stuff than their parents.
Tonight, ironically on the way home from the Christmas pageant, the latest educational revelation becomes the topic of discussion after the following off-the-cuff comment: "I hope I never have an 'oops' baby."
Mike: "What do you mean?"*
Bro: "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT AN OOPS BABY IS?"**
Mike: "Why don't you tell me?"
Bro: "Mom, do you know what an oops baby is?"
Me: "I think so. But why don't you tell us?"
Bro: "Well. It's kinda hard to explain.*** But, it's like when you have three kids and you don't want four but around Thanksgiving**** you end up with another baby. That's the 'oops' baby."
Mike and I just looked at each other, both mentally clearing sweat from our brows. Both knowing, if we'd answered that question, we'd have ended up dumber than the sixteen year old who taught his first grade brother about oops babies in the first place.
If I've learned one thing about parenting it's that you should rarely, if ever, answer a question straight out once your kid hits about four. Starting at that age, they are just looking to trap you. And they're crafty little trappers.
But score one for the parentage on this issue: we didn't make an OOPS.
Har, har.
*Shooting a sidewards glance at me which indicates "What are you teaching that child?"
**His brain is thinking "GEEZ you are old? How did you get so old and not know this?"
***Yes. We, the parents, are the imbeciles in this situation. Our son is thinking "I'll try to distill the explanation down to your level but it is going to be AWFULLY hard."
****Why Thanksgiving? Why not Halloween or Saint Patrick's Day or Kwanzaa???
This classroom education always comes from an expert. You know the type: a cute first grader with a brother who is sixteen. A teenager with a mean streak who thinks it is hysterical to teach the little guy how to fart with just his hand and armpit. Or who teaches cuss words in anticipation of a Sunday morning trip to join Great-Grammy Cooper at the Southern Baptist Church of Podunk.
Yeah, that type of kid ALWAYS seems drawn to my kid. And my kid thinks buddies of this ilk are geniuses in seven-year-old skin. In kid-speak, a genius is someone who knows way cooler stuff than their parents.
Tonight, ironically on the way home from the Christmas pageant, the latest educational revelation becomes the topic of discussion after the following off-the-cuff comment: "I hope I never have an 'oops' baby."
Mike: "What do you mean?"*
Bro: "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT AN OOPS BABY IS?"**
Mike: "Why don't you tell me?"
Bro: "Mom, do you know what an oops baby is?"
Me: "I think so. But why don't you tell us?"
Bro: "Well. It's kinda hard to explain.*** But, it's like when you have three kids and you don't want four but around Thanksgiving**** you end up with another baby. That's the 'oops' baby."
Mike and I just looked at each other, both mentally clearing sweat from our brows. Both knowing, if we'd answered that question, we'd have ended up dumber than the sixteen year old who taught his first grade brother about oops babies in the first place.
If I've learned one thing about parenting it's that you should rarely, if ever, answer a question straight out once your kid hits about four. Starting at that age, they are just looking to trap you. And they're crafty little trappers.
But score one for the parentage on this issue: we didn't make an OOPS.
Har, har.
*Shooting a sidewards glance at me which indicates "What are you teaching that child?"
**His brain is thinking "GEEZ you are old? How did you get so old and not know this?"
***Yes. We, the parents, are the imbeciles in this situation. Our son is thinking "I'll try to distill the explanation down to your level but it is going to be AWFULLY hard."
****Why Thanksgiving? Why not Halloween or Saint Patrick's Day or Kwanzaa???
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Women's Retreat?!
I must have somehow gone temporarily mad when I signed up for the women's retreat at my new church.
Actually, I was temporarily exhausted and at my wit's end with how we were going to go make fall happen in our house. At that point, I still couldn't wrap my mind around how our four adult arms and four adult legs were going to get everyone everywhere they needed to be. AND intact and sane, that is. I figured this would be my stretch goal: if I was still alive come November 13th, I owed it to myself to go on this retreat and relax.
I attempted, that ill-fated day, to convince one of the Moms I quasi-knew to join me. With hope in my heart that she'd be signing up the following, and last, weekend, I penned my name and handed over my credit card.
Turned out, my newish friend couldn't attend. I was completely on my own.
Now I know some people who would have taken this as a challenge and made up some game against themselves where they attempted to get to know five people they didn't know when they arrived on Friday.
Me? I'm kinda a one-trick pony. I generally like to go with a smallish group of people and stick kind of close. If I don't quickly find someone warming up to my warped personality, I engross myself in reading, writing, and napping. That's not all bad, but it certainly doesn't fit the concept behind the weekend.*
I'm going with the attitude "What the heck?" and, I'm sure, will get to know some of the other lovely ladies at the church. I'm not going to put myself full-out-there unless I've had at least one glass of liquid courage** OR so much chocolate I'm running on a pure sugar high.
So, I'm starting at the neighborhood Exxon. Where I intend to buy one of every kind of chocolate known to man.
I think that should probably do it. That and my bottle of Fetzer.....
*UNLESS, this happened to be a silent retreat. I checked. It isn't.
**The antithesis to my time in Baptist land? On our checklist of things to bring: a bottle of wine. Wine glass optional, but only to distinguish your fermented grapes from that of your neighbor. OH YEAH!
Actually, I was temporarily exhausted and at my wit's end with how we were going to go make fall happen in our house. At that point, I still couldn't wrap my mind around how our four adult arms and four adult legs were going to get everyone everywhere they needed to be. AND intact and sane, that is. I figured this would be my stretch goal: if I was still alive come November 13th, I owed it to myself to go on this retreat and relax.
I attempted, that ill-fated day, to convince one of the Moms I quasi-knew to join me. With hope in my heart that she'd be signing up the following, and last, weekend, I penned my name and handed over my credit card.
Turned out, my newish friend couldn't attend. I was completely on my own.
Now I know some people who would have taken this as a challenge and made up some game against themselves where they attempted to get to know five people they didn't know when they arrived on Friday.
Me? I'm kinda a one-trick pony. I generally like to go with a smallish group of people and stick kind of close. If I don't quickly find someone warming up to my warped personality, I engross myself in reading, writing, and napping. That's not all bad, but it certainly doesn't fit the concept behind the weekend.*
I'm going with the attitude "What the heck?" and, I'm sure, will get to know some of the other lovely ladies at the church. I'm not going to put myself full-out-there unless I've had at least one glass of liquid courage** OR so much chocolate I'm running on a pure sugar high.
So, I'm starting at the neighborhood Exxon. Where I intend to buy one of every kind of chocolate known to man.
I think that should probably do it. That and my bottle of Fetzer.....
*UNLESS, this happened to be a silent retreat. I checked. It isn't.
**The antithesis to my time in Baptist land? On our checklist of things to bring: a bottle of wine. Wine glass optional, but only to distinguish your fermented grapes from that of your neighbor. OH YEAH!
Friday, November 6, 2009
Priorities
Editor's Note: I am not claiming, by writing this today, that I do all these things. This is a list of things I WISH I could get right daily.
When you get your priorities REALLY straight you realize:
1. God
2. Family (your spouse, kids, and your parents/in-laws. Period. Family beyond that has their OWN family to support them--love them like crazy, but tend to your own.)
3. Friends
Anything you plan that involves all three groups is likely a blessed event. When you seek love, by spending time with those in this world who love you best, you are better able to spread that love around.
Make an extra effort to spend time with God every day and you will find Him showing up in the daily activities you do. Spend less time and see if the Devil doesn't find his foothold.
When you find yourself grumpy about doing something like laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, or carpooling, remember WHO benefits from your efforts. Your actions show love to those around you. That is true, even if you never hear a "thank you" from those who benefit. If you don't believe this, try NOT DOING your chores for a couple of days!
When your to-do list fills with things that don't seem to matter, put them up against the list. Do they benefit God, your family or your friends? If yes, proceed. If no, are they taking beneficial time away from God, your family or your friends? If so, dump those activities off your list.
Learn to say "no". Say it often. Practice in front of the mirror, if you have to. Remember, by saying "no", you are giving someone else the opportunity to say "yes".
If someone refuses to hear your "no", do what is right for God, your family, and your friends. Don't be pressured into doing something because someone else thinks it is a good idea. But, balance that with trying to love people who can't, won't, or don't understand your priorities.
When you have a chance to say "yes" to God, pray and proceed. Again, an opportunity to do good doesn't mean that opportunity was meant for YOU. That's what prayer is for.
Attend church weekly. Or more often, if you can. You live 168 hours every week. God asks for less than 2 hours of that time in his house and for one, 24-hour-day, of your week to REST. Do your best to rest.
It's all about the time. Not about the color of the decorations, or the weight of the invitation, or the perfect cake. It's about talking, sharing, and being together. Just being is all that matters. Because being together communicates love.
Learn to communicate with those you love. Figure out how to talk politics or religion or parenting skills without offense. Accept differing opinions and attitudes. But NEVER compromise on what you believe is right by God. Listening and trying to understand those we love communicates love, not acceptance of their opinions as your own.
When in doubt, err on God's side, as you see it. If you have doubts, see if scripture backs up your thoughts. If it doesn't, don't hesitate to reexamine what you believe. Prayerfully.
Ask for forgiveness. From anyone and everyone you offend or hurt. So many people will never know what it means to be asked for forgiveness in this world. It is a humbling experience to ask and a humbling experience to respond. If you are brought to tears by asking, you probably needed to ask in the first place.
When it comes time to go home, you aren't going to be worried about who will get the retirement account or the fur coat or the collection of comic books. You will be doing a mental checklist of the PEOPLE. And being sure they know you loved them. And being sure you were loved by them and by God.
If you don't believe love is all that really matters, talk with anyone who has been with someone who is dying. Time and time again, love is all that matters.
Love well.
When you get your priorities REALLY straight you realize:
1. God
2. Family (your spouse, kids, and your parents/in-laws. Period. Family beyond that has their OWN family to support them--love them like crazy, but tend to your own.)
3. Friends
Anything you plan that involves all three groups is likely a blessed event. When you seek love, by spending time with those in this world who love you best, you are better able to spread that love around.
Make an extra effort to spend time with God every day and you will find Him showing up in the daily activities you do. Spend less time and see if the Devil doesn't find his foothold.
When you find yourself grumpy about doing something like laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, or carpooling, remember WHO benefits from your efforts. Your actions show love to those around you. That is true, even if you never hear a "thank you" from those who benefit. If you don't believe this, try NOT DOING your chores for a couple of days!
When your to-do list fills with things that don't seem to matter, put them up against the list. Do they benefit God, your family or your friends? If yes, proceed. If no, are they taking beneficial time away from God, your family or your friends? If so, dump those activities off your list.
Learn to say "no". Say it often. Practice in front of the mirror, if you have to. Remember, by saying "no", you are giving someone else the opportunity to say "yes".
If someone refuses to hear your "no", do what is right for God, your family, and your friends. Don't be pressured into doing something because someone else thinks it is a good idea. But, balance that with trying to love people who can't, won't, or don't understand your priorities.
When you have a chance to say "yes" to God, pray and proceed. Again, an opportunity to do good doesn't mean that opportunity was meant for YOU. That's what prayer is for.
Attend church weekly. Or more often, if you can. You live 168 hours every week. God asks for less than 2 hours of that time in his house and for one, 24-hour-day, of your week to REST. Do your best to rest.
It's all about the time. Not about the color of the decorations, or the weight of the invitation, or the perfect cake. It's about talking, sharing, and being together. Just being is all that matters. Because being together communicates love.
Learn to communicate with those you love. Figure out how to talk politics or religion or parenting skills without offense. Accept differing opinions and attitudes. But NEVER compromise on what you believe is right by God. Listening and trying to understand those we love communicates love, not acceptance of their opinions as your own.
When in doubt, err on God's side, as you see it. If you have doubts, see if scripture backs up your thoughts. If it doesn't, don't hesitate to reexamine what you believe. Prayerfully.
Ask for forgiveness. From anyone and everyone you offend or hurt. So many people will never know what it means to be asked for forgiveness in this world. It is a humbling experience to ask and a humbling experience to respond. If you are brought to tears by asking, you probably needed to ask in the first place.
When it comes time to go home, you aren't going to be worried about who will get the retirement account or the fur coat or the collection of comic books. You will be doing a mental checklist of the PEOPLE. And being sure they know you loved them. And being sure you were loved by them and by God.
If you don't believe love is all that really matters, talk with anyone who has been with someone who is dying. Time and time again, love is all that matters.
Love well.
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