Todd came into my life at a most unexpected time. He taught me how to have fun, gave me reasons to laugh, and showed me how to love unconditionally. For that, I am thankful.
Heath and Creed are blessings every day. That certainly doesn’t mean they are perfect. Luckily, none of us are. My boys are just that, boys. They are adventurous, spirited, curious, even a bit temperamental at times. At the same time they are caring, sweet, even cool. Just ask them about the latter. It is true that everything changes when one becomes a parent. I’m just thankful to have the experience and to be able to watch them grow and learn.
Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, mothers, fathers, grandparents ... you know that old saying that you can’t choose your family? True, but we can learn to be accepting of one another and learn to appreciate our differences. Most of us refuse to admit that while we greatly enjoy our friends, the majority of friends change throughout the course of our lives. If your best friend from kindergarten is still your best friend 30 years later, that is rare. Friends may come and go, but family usually remains. Who was there when you went through that hard time not so long ago? Who will be there the next time one arises? Who is just a phone call away? Those people will give you a reason to be thankful.
Noodles have traditionally been my favorite food. The best kind are what I dubbed many years ago to be “funeral” noodles. Expect them to be homemade (or at least those really good frozen ones), and expect them to be comforting. Why else would they be served at times when families gather together in sorrow?
Knowing what it is to be blessed is a wonderful acknowledgment. I’ve learned a lot of man’s knowledge over the years. After my finals in a few weeks, I’ll only have comprehensive exams and a dissertation to do before I attain my doctorate in higher education. I say only as if that isn’t a lot of work still set before me. Yes, it is, but it also brings me to the point where the instruction that I need for now has been taught. The rest of my learning is up to me. I will now be able to guide my path. To be able to leave behind me homework assignments, required readings, quizzes, exams, and finals will be a blessing for sure.
Forgiving is one of the most difficult things we sometimes have to do, but it can also be the most rejuvenating and inspiring. If you feel like someone has done you wrong, you’re not alone. Actually, most everyone feels that way from time to time. We all get hurt; sometimes we are even the ones who hurt others either knowingly or unknowingly. I try to teach my sons how important forgiveness is when their play with one another exceeds the safe point and becomes rough. With my little wanna be wrestlers, ninjas, and X-men, undoubtedly someone eventually begins to cry. And while they get angry at each other more than anyone else, they are able to learn to forgive and go for another round later in the day. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all forgive so easily? I’m thankful for the example they set.
Understanding is a complex characteristic or quality. It is so multi-faceted. In life we all have a portion of understanding, but it is not like mashed potatoes and gravy where a bigger serving at the dinner table makes one more full. Understanding is gained year after year; so I guess each Thanksgiving meal one eats adds to their understanding and wisdom about life, about people, about relationships ... I’m thankful for that which I have gained and anxious for that which I can still glean.
Laughter is the best medicine ... I have heard it said so many times. It reminds me of that song from “Mary Poppins” about loving to laugh. As that example so clearly illustrated, laughter lifts you up, it lightens moods, it enhances feelings. Sometimes, it even makes your cheeks and belly hurt. I am so thankful for that kind of laughter.
Those are my reasons to be THANKFUL this holiday season. What are yours?
Monday, November 23, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Rabbit Plea
It is definitely not the best time of year to be a turkey. Yet, in my home, I eat turkey almost daily either for a lunch treat or on a bagel for breakfast. So as the season of thankfulness approaches, I will note my thankfulness for the bird so celebrated at this time of year.
I asked my boys about Thanksgiving this year. Creed is more than willing to draw turkey after turkey to decorate for the upcoming dinner. And when he expels his list of gratefulness, my six year old is already acting very politically correct. He is thankful for his family, his friends, and all that he has. I am glad to hear that.
Heath has a different agenda. He uses his Thanksgiving list as a manipulation technique.
“I’m thankful for you to get me a rabbit,” he told me this morning.
He included his four-wheeler, the opportunity to sit on the new lawn mower, a chance to play in the woods, and the ability to throw sticks into the creek as the remainder of his gratefulness.
Then, he went back to this rabbit. We have never talked about rabbits before. But, since he had put the subject into the limelight, the discussion could ensue.
He told me he had never really been around rabbits much, but he had seen one on Winnie the Pooh. Of course, he doesn’t expect his rabbit to have a garden since it will most likely live in a cage.
And Heath believes it will be okay that his rabbit just has a cage life because he will play with it from time to time.
“And at night, when it is time to sleep, I will protect him so he doesn’t get scared,” he continued.
Funny ... he does know what to say to manipulate his mother.
“And I will feed him carrots and lettuce and maybe grass, and what else do rabbits like? They like water.”
In his lengthy plea, he noted that this rabbit will be named Starfire. Although a female super hero has that name, his rabbit will be a boy and it won’t have any powers, it will just possess an ability to eat many vegetables without complaining.
“And he’ll have fun playing with me,” Heath concluded.
He felt confident that he had made a good argument for a rabbit, so he ended with, “Will you pick Starfire up for me tonight?”
I convinced him that Easter is a better time of year to get pets like rabbits, not really at Thanksgiving time as it will have to be outside in the cold all winter. I think it worked. I guess I’ll know tomorrow if he asks about Starfire again.
My boys are a joy. They certainly give me a reason to be thankful all year long.
I asked my boys about Thanksgiving this year. Creed is more than willing to draw turkey after turkey to decorate for the upcoming dinner. And when he expels his list of gratefulness, my six year old is already acting very politically correct. He is thankful for his family, his friends, and all that he has. I am glad to hear that.
Heath has a different agenda. He uses his Thanksgiving list as a manipulation technique.
“I’m thankful for you to get me a rabbit,” he told me this morning.
He included his four-wheeler, the opportunity to sit on the new lawn mower, a chance to play in the woods, and the ability to throw sticks into the creek as the remainder of his gratefulness.
Then, he went back to this rabbit. We have never talked about rabbits before. But, since he had put the subject into the limelight, the discussion could ensue.
He told me he had never really been around rabbits much, but he had seen one on Winnie the Pooh. Of course, he doesn’t expect his rabbit to have a garden since it will most likely live in a cage.
And Heath believes it will be okay that his rabbit just has a cage life because he will play with it from time to time.
“And at night, when it is time to sleep, I will protect him so he doesn’t get scared,” he continued.
Funny ... he does know what to say to manipulate his mother.
“And I will feed him carrots and lettuce and maybe grass, and what else do rabbits like? They like water.”
In his lengthy plea, he noted that this rabbit will be named Starfire. Although a female super hero has that name, his rabbit will be a boy and it won’t have any powers, it will just possess an ability to eat many vegetables without complaining.
“And he’ll have fun playing with me,” Heath concluded.
He felt confident that he had made a good argument for a rabbit, so he ended with, “Will you pick Starfire up for me tonight?”
I convinced him that Easter is a better time of year to get pets like rabbits, not really at Thanksgiving time as it will have to be outside in the cold all winter. I think it worked. I guess I’ll know tomorrow if he asks about Starfire again.
My boys are a joy. They certainly give me a reason to be thankful all year long.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The New Vest
Creed had one request when it came time for school pictures this year. “Please, Mom, don’t make me wear a sweater vest. They just aren’t cool.”
Okay, so last year I dressed him in a sweater vest. He looked adorable. He didn’t mind.
This year I told him not to worry ... one sweater vest picture was enough.
Yet, he was curious to know when his younger brother would be required to have his sweater vest picture taken. After all, if he has one then his brother should as well.
Sounds reasonable ... but this wasn’t Heath’s year either. He didn’t seem to be in a sweater vest mood either.
As for their mother, I have two — both are black and one has a hoodie on it. It is definitely my favorite.
The boys are more argyle in nature.
When I walked into class the other day, I noticed a male student of twenty-something age wearing a sweater vest. The other males in the class admit they won’t don the apparel, but admitted that their classmate, Micah, seemed to be “pulling it off.” His response, “Every day is better when you wear a sweater vest.”
For him, it is a boost of confidence, a symbol of power and prestige.
As I looked over Mountaineer Field at Milan Puskar stadium Saturday, a sweater vest caught my eye amidst the sea of blue and gold. It was worn by none other than Bill Stewart. I sent a text message to my friend, Kristen, on the other side of the stadium pointing out the vest. She said he obviously wasn’t owning it. After all, when one dons a sweater vest and truly owns it, then it is a good day. So says Micah.
For the Mountaineers, I worried. The game seemed to lack some of the pizzazz I expected.
Finally, though, the sweater vest attitude sacked in as Stewart was finally able to direct his players to perform (or at least slide by) to grasp a win. No one will want to write home about the game ... unless it is to comment on the sweater vest.
I noticed another sweater vest worn in church on Sunday. It wasn’t the first time I had seen Steve Lewis choosing this layer of clothing. He admitted to owning several. And, yes, he did find that it makes his day better.
Hmmm.
Apparently, sweater vests are making a comeback. I read on a fashion website that one of the most popular layering pieces this fall will be the vest. “Sweater vests should no longer be associated with something your grandpa would wear, because this fall they will be everywhere, in all shapes, lengths, colors, and patterns. With so many options available, it gets confusing to pick out the perfect items to pair with your vest,” the fashion diva noted.
Creed disagrees. His days are definitely better when he wears a “cool” shirt. His definition of “cool” would rather include Wolverine or Spiderman than argyle.
Maybe Creed will someday come to terms with the sweater vest as his classmates begin to wear them. Until then I might leave an empty space in his closet as a memorial to the sweater vest — that which transcends time and age and makes every day better.
Okay, so last year I dressed him in a sweater vest. He looked adorable. He didn’t mind.
This year I told him not to worry ... one sweater vest picture was enough.
Yet, he was curious to know when his younger brother would be required to have his sweater vest picture taken. After all, if he has one then his brother should as well.
Sounds reasonable ... but this wasn’t Heath’s year either. He didn’t seem to be in a sweater vest mood either.
As for their mother, I have two — both are black and one has a hoodie on it. It is definitely my favorite.
The boys are more argyle in nature.
When I walked into class the other day, I noticed a male student of twenty-something age wearing a sweater vest. The other males in the class admit they won’t don the apparel, but admitted that their classmate, Micah, seemed to be “pulling it off.” His response, “Every day is better when you wear a sweater vest.”
For him, it is a boost of confidence, a symbol of power and prestige.
As I looked over Mountaineer Field at Milan Puskar stadium Saturday, a sweater vest caught my eye amidst the sea of blue and gold. It was worn by none other than Bill Stewart. I sent a text message to my friend, Kristen, on the other side of the stadium pointing out the vest. She said he obviously wasn’t owning it. After all, when one dons a sweater vest and truly owns it, then it is a good day. So says Micah.
For the Mountaineers, I worried. The game seemed to lack some of the pizzazz I expected.
Finally, though, the sweater vest attitude sacked in as Stewart was finally able to direct his players to perform (or at least slide by) to grasp a win. No one will want to write home about the game ... unless it is to comment on the sweater vest.
I noticed another sweater vest worn in church on Sunday. It wasn’t the first time I had seen Steve Lewis choosing this layer of clothing. He admitted to owning several. And, yes, he did find that it makes his day better.
Hmmm.
Apparently, sweater vests are making a comeback. I read on a fashion website that one of the most popular layering pieces this fall will be the vest. “Sweater vests should no longer be associated with something your grandpa would wear, because this fall they will be everywhere, in all shapes, lengths, colors, and patterns. With so many options available, it gets confusing to pick out the perfect items to pair with your vest,” the fashion diva noted.
Creed disagrees. His days are definitely better when he wears a “cool” shirt. His definition of “cool” would rather include Wolverine or Spiderman than argyle.
Maybe Creed will someday come to terms with the sweater vest as his classmates begin to wear them. Until then I might leave an empty space in his closet as a memorial to the sweater vest — that which transcends time and age and makes every day better.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Pot Luck
It’s one of those days when many thoughts are circling in my head. It could be good.
At dinner last night I fixed spaghetti and meatballs. Despite what anyone in my household claims to be their favorite meal, I guarantee that spaghetti and meatballs is the most successful meal ever served at our home. No one complains. Everyone eats ... and they eat a lot.
Creed will say pizza is his favorite; Heath will claim chicken and fries. But, none of those are accepted with the same dinner table quietness. Isn’t that when you know a meal is good? When everyone is just focused on eating and not on other noises?
Eating at home ... unless you count Naomi’s dinner table or the meals my grandma used to make ... is usually the same for everyone gathered. It isn’t like going to a restaurant where all diners order their own dishes. The only time that differs is pot luck night.
Pot luck – it’s when a few days of leftovers are brought out and family members pick and choose which ones they want. I remember these on occasion when growing up. I guess that means we usually ate all the food to avoid leftovers or the remaining morsels were fed to the family dog. In my household today I eat the most leftovers, often having them for lunch the next day.
Sometimes, though, we do join together for bits of this and that. The boys are usually excited as everyone gets to “order” what they want for dinner.
I think that is what makes pot luck successful. It is the option to choose. We, as a society, seem to like choices. Look at a cereal aisle in a supermarket and know that choices are bountiful.
Here’s a thought ... what if we considered life to be a pot luck dinner? We don’t like everything that is set before us, but we do like parts of it. Why don’t we take the good and combine it together? Isn’t that what we try to do anyway? Isn’t that why you forgive your loved ones’ little flaws and embrace their greater good?
It makes me think about what I bring to the table. For the perfect pot luck meal, what will people choose out of my characteristics? It won’t be my patience. While some things push me for a while, the most miniature seem to trip me and make me fall flat on my face. I am reminded of this every morning as we try to get ready to leave the house.
We can all pick out our shortcomings, our weaknesses, the areas we want to improve. I heard on the radio this morning that we are all full of guilt. We can always pick out what is wrong with us and place blame on ourselves for it. After all, that is easy.
So, challenge yourself. Find your strengths. (I’m calling a search party for mine.) Then, celebrate them; bring them to the table and you’ll have one of the most amazing pot luck dinners ever.
At dinner last night I fixed spaghetti and meatballs. Despite what anyone in my household claims to be their favorite meal, I guarantee that spaghetti and meatballs is the most successful meal ever served at our home. No one complains. Everyone eats ... and they eat a lot.
Creed will say pizza is his favorite; Heath will claim chicken and fries. But, none of those are accepted with the same dinner table quietness. Isn’t that when you know a meal is good? When everyone is just focused on eating and not on other noises?
Eating at home ... unless you count Naomi’s dinner table or the meals my grandma used to make ... is usually the same for everyone gathered. It isn’t like going to a restaurant where all diners order their own dishes. The only time that differs is pot luck night.
Pot luck – it’s when a few days of leftovers are brought out and family members pick and choose which ones they want. I remember these on occasion when growing up. I guess that means we usually ate all the food to avoid leftovers or the remaining morsels were fed to the family dog. In my household today I eat the most leftovers, often having them for lunch the next day.
Sometimes, though, we do join together for bits of this and that. The boys are usually excited as everyone gets to “order” what they want for dinner.
I think that is what makes pot luck successful. It is the option to choose. We, as a society, seem to like choices. Look at a cereal aisle in a supermarket and know that choices are bountiful.
Here’s a thought ... what if we considered life to be a pot luck dinner? We don’t like everything that is set before us, but we do like parts of it. Why don’t we take the good and combine it together? Isn’t that what we try to do anyway? Isn’t that why you forgive your loved ones’ little flaws and embrace their greater good?
It makes me think about what I bring to the table. For the perfect pot luck meal, what will people choose out of my characteristics? It won’t be my patience. While some things push me for a while, the most miniature seem to trip me and make me fall flat on my face. I am reminded of this every morning as we try to get ready to leave the house.
We can all pick out our shortcomings, our weaknesses, the areas we want to improve. I heard on the radio this morning that we are all full of guilt. We can always pick out what is wrong with us and place blame on ourselves for it. After all, that is easy.
So, challenge yourself. Find your strengths. (I’m calling a search party for mine.) Then, celebrate them; bring them to the table and you’ll have one of the most amazing pot luck dinners ever.
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