Family and Home – Long walks and dark chocolate

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words break my heart

August 23, 2013 2 Comments

I heard the rain long before I saw it pounding on the roof inside Wal-Mart. It was so loud people were actually looking up and around as if they might actually catch a glimpse of it. When I arrived at the exit, pushing my grocery laden cart ahead of me, I just looked out in dismay. This was no ordinary Florida afternoon storm, the rain was sideways and the parking lot already flooded.

Finally, I made it to the car, flip flops soaked and my umbrella threatening to fly away or pull my arm out of socket. The wind was incredible. Common sense was telling me I shouldn’t even drive in it; just stay parked and wait it out. But, my body was saying “homeward bound”. I eased out onto the highway about the time it appeared to slack up, or so it seemed. As soon as I had accelerated and was progressing toward home, there came a deluge.

I saw a truck coming up fast behind me and as the driver began to ride my bumper, I put my blinker on, pulled over and let Mr. “I’ll probably kill someone with my driving” proceed. I watched in amazement, although not too clearly as it was still pouring, as he passed vehicles ahead of me, when I knew he couldn’t see far enough in front of himself to do so safely.

As I slowed down and waited to see lights and a crash ahead, I thought about bullies once again for about the tenth time this week. He was a “road bully”, the kind who wants to be in charge of the road and punish and taunt those who drive slower than them by racing by while shaking their head, as if they’ve accomplished some great feat.

Since my husband and I watched a movie on bullying the other day, I have been unable to shake the topic from my mind. I don’t remember ever being bullied and I was taught not to bully people, or make fun of others for any reason. My parents were very strict about that and I am thankful.

It seems like the traditional bully has changed into a whole new breed. When I was in school, I remember a few and none of them fit the image of the one you see portrayed in older movies. I don’t ever remember anyone stealing lunch money or beating someone up because they wouldn’t do their homework.

There was the “athlete bully”, who thought they were the best at everything sports oriented and would hog the ball and shove people around or criticize their efforts. This person rarely had the grades or the motivation and dedication to actually play a sport.

There was the “boyfriend bully” who thought she got first dibs on any new guy at school. If this poor unsuspecting creature ended up liking someone else, it was usually bad news for the object of his affection. This gal rarely got the guy, but it was always someone else’s fault; it couldn’t possibly have been because jealousy and hatred marred her personality so.

There was always the “bully on the bus” who forced others out of whatever seat he wanted and made what should have been an uneventful ride home from school, miserable for several. Fortunately this one was typically suspended from the bus before the school year was over.

I think in recent years, bullying can be so much more subtle and due to technology, sneaky and hidden. Kids have grown smarter and teachers sometimes have their hands tied because if they try to discipline, they are often targeted instead of supported, which is sad.

The bullying now also seems to be more emotional and less physical in some situations. Words can hurt just as much or more than a fist and their effects can linger a lifetime. Whereas fighting is seen and punished (hopefully), words and looks can demean just as easily, with a much lower percentage of ever getting caught. The bullies can easily recruit hateful, spineless minions who support them via Facebook, Instagram, Vine or whatever media they used to attack their victim.

Kids do unfortunately take to heart much of what is said to them or about them. Their reactions and the damage others can cause, is often dependent on their personalities and their self-image. Those of you with children know exactly what I mean. That is why it’s so important that your own children or those who you know and care about hear your praise and know that they are loved and were created for a purpose; that they are unique and shouldn’t feel pressured to be like anyone else.

I wish we had all the answers, but we don’t. What we can do is pray for the bullying to cease, pay attention to the children we love and watch for signs of it and take an active role in preventing it in any situation that you can.

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse, and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.” ― Desmond Tutu

Bullying (hollbrock.wordpress.com)
What if I’m Being Bullied? (illustrationstoencourage.wordpress.com)

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: bad drivers, bullies, bullying, Desmond Tutu, hatefulness, jealousy, love your children, Violence and Abuse

Sniffing crayons

August 11, 2013 7 Comments

World-famous Crayola crayons are manufactured in Easton. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As I walk into Walmart and veer over toward the aisles with signs advertising “back to school” sales, I realize, I want school supplies. I always do at this time of year. Call me crazy, but I love paper products and I feel like I’m missing out on something.

It’s like a new season; a fresh start to a new year of learning, meeting new people and new teachers and a year to be a better student and classmate. That is how I always viewed it anyway.

I can smell the crayons and recall the careful searching for just the right box. In kindergarten, there were the chubby crayons available in limited colors, for little fingers not yet aware of their strength. Next was the bigger box sporting a few more colors and finally, you graduated to the big box, the one with the sharpener embedded in the back (I remember sharpening them down so small that my mom would tell me I wasn’t going to have anything left to color with). When you got to these, you’d hit the mother lode of crayons. The crayon eaters (there was one in every class) seemed especially drawn to these large colorful boxes.

Back when I was in elementary, picking out the wooden (cigar box) or tin crayon box was one of the most painstaking decisions to be made and I will venture to say many mothers must have lost their patience with children like me.

Browsing through the back to school aisles now, although still nostalgic, is not quite so familiar anymore. I don’t recognize the super heroes and the cartoon-like images look more ghoulish or scary to me than Scooby doo or Superman. There is also a shelf full of calculators. My girls had to have these for math class. I was always taught that I took math for those times when I didn’t have one of these and had to think for myself. Oh well, math was my least favorite subject and I am eternally grateful that I don’t have to use it often.

I still love the paper aisle. I just see page after page I can fill. I am compelled to pick up a couple of cute notebooks for myself so I don’t feel completely left out. I get a green one and a pink one sporting cute little owls. This takes me back to Mrs. Green’s class where we wrote for the first 10 minutes of class, honing our writing skills. There are fond memories there.

Strolling past the pencils conjures up memories of students sharpening pencils when the sharpener hung from the wall. The kids who couldn’t sit still wanted to sharpen all 24 of theirs every day. If I were a teacher, that would have got on my last nerve. I remember the smell of lead and wood shavings to this day. Then there was the poor boy that leaned too far back in his chair and fell on his pencil, lodging it in his derriere, and requiring medical attention. We all thought he’d be dead by morning, as our parents had constantly warned us about the dire consequences of lead in our mouths or in our bloodstream.

Then, I see the lunch boxes. I was never one of the children who used one, but always thought it would be cool. I suffered though cafeteria food until high school and then we overloaded cars and trucks and went to McDonalds.

In all honesty, I enjoyed school and can summon all kinds of great memories from my time as a student. Those days are long gone for me and even for my children, but I don’t think an August will ever go by without me waxing nostalgic over school supplies.

I think maybe I’ll go and buy myself a new outfit and some shoes too, in keeping with the spirit of things.

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: August, back to school, children, Crayon, crayons, Education, McDonalds, New Year, nostalgia, Pencil, School supplies, Walmart

Daily Prompt: Smell You Later

August 9, 2013 11 Comments

The writing prompt today was as follows:

Humans have very strong scent memory. Tell us about a smell that transports you.

My sister and I getting ready for a dance recital in the 80s

Think 1980-something, in the fall and early winter.
Teenage girls, donning Gloria Vanderbilt, Sergio Valente or Sasson jeans and fuzzy sweaters, and coating soft, supple, unspoiled skin with Merle Norman makeup.

The bathroom mirror is shared to capacity, each girl straining to get the best view. Makeup stains, and hair filled brushes line the formica countertop along with curlers and Aqua net hairspray. Speaking of hair, it had been determined by those who determine all trends that as for hair; the bigger the better.

Thus, the girls bent upside down, with luscious locks falling all topsy-turvy, and hairspray creating a fog so thick, we were dangerously close to needing a lighthouse. But coat it we would, ensuring that it last through Endless Love and Keep On Loving You and Celebration and whatever else our cassette tapes held.

Glossy lips shimmering, Bette Davis eyes complete, gaudy earrings hanging, charm necklaces bulging with charms, which continually caught in the sweaters, and finally everyone is ready.

It is at last time for the last touch, the scent. Our favorites at the time were Cinnabar and Ciara. It was always one or the other. I have never been able to smell Cinnabar without it bringing me back to those carefree, teenage dating days.

My mom, my sister and I and many of our friends wore it. It’s funny how a scent can transport you to a special time and place filled with such delightful memories.

Memories as sweet as the scent of Cinnabar.

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: 1980s, Beauty, Bette Davis, Ciara, cinnabar, Compact Cassette, dating, eighties, Gloria Vanderbilt, Hair spray, makeup, Sweater, teenage girls

Deposits in our children

August 1, 2013 Leave a Comment

Ayda at Disney 2011

As I look back on the past 47 years of my life, I am convinced that of all of the lives I have touched, the biggest impact has been on my children.

Knowing this, I contemplate the failures which sometimes seemed as plentiful as the successes. For this, I can promise, you will fail at times, more than once or twice. You will find though, that how you handle the failures is the most important part. There is no shame to be found in saying, “I’m sorry”; this is teaching your children to do the same. You also have to forgive yourself and move forward.

I recall many times that they called me out on something that I had taught them not to do or also the times when I beamed with pride at the awesomeness of their character shining through. There were times I was impatient and didn’t give them the chance to explain, or completely misread a situation and found myself at their bedside asking forgiveness. There were also times that I know I rocked; that I gave them praise and their smile and hug told me I had got it right. Those are the times your heart feels as though it will burst.

I have found that patience is mandatory throughout their lives; not just during the terrible twos and sassy teenage years. Your complete and undivided attention is a must and forgiveness a necessity. Praise is essential and should be used in far greater quantity than negative remarks.

The words that are spoken should be carefully chosen, the looks you give always filtered by love and the example that you set should be stellar. If it hasn’t been thus far, make the rest of the years count!

Yes, there will come a time when they will make their own choices. However, you will want them to make good ones, based on the things you have taught them and shown by example. The little sponges will soak it all up, so make your choices wisely.

After all, you want to look back with more good memories than bad ones and you want to know you have done your very best.

Filed Under: Family and Home, Inspirational Tagged With: children, forgiveness, memories, Parenting, praise, setting an example

And she isn’t even gone

July 21, 2013 6 Comments

Dusky, hazy, purple day after rain

As the thunder rolls outside, it’s almost deafening, compared to the silence inside. There is a faint whisper from one of the televisions left on in another room. Other than that, there is nothing.

Normally, I relish in the quiet but today it is different. Today I cannot seem to stop the agonizing silence from reminding me that there is much more of it to come.

You see my days of telling toddlers to eat all of their dinner or get in the bathtub are over. My days of shuttling adolescents to appointments long before they get their permit are gone. Sleepovers and sports, bedtime stories and battling are a thing of the past. When my youngest departs in a couple of months to carry on with her life, it will leave its mark.

People will tell you to think on the bright side; of lives fulfilled and your “good raising” and grandchildren and hope and dreams realized. And I will. They will say, “This is a normal, natural part of life and you should embrace it”. And I have. Some offer that, “Now, you have all this free time and you and the hubby can enjoy each other!” Yes, this I realize.

But you know what? That doesn’t take away the ache, the missing and the worry.

I know God has His hand on all of us, and things really will work out for the best. And maybe I will even look back someday and laugh about my melancholy days, missing my children before the last one is even really gone.

But not today, not right now.

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: child, Children Youth and Family, daughter, empty nest, Family, Home, melancholy

Daily Prompt: There is no place like home

July 20, 2013 2 Comments

The challenge today was to write about this question.

If you had the opportunity to live a nomadic life, traveling from place to place, would you do it? Do you need a home base? What makes a place “home” to you?

Home is where the heart is (Photo credit: countrykitty)

Oh, home; the place where I find solace and comfort and familiarity and family. Could I ever live a nomadic life, home base stripped away? No, that is an easily answered question for me.

I love my mornings at home, rolling out of my king size bed, well rested and ready for a new day. I relish in padding off to the kitchen to pop in my favorite coffee and wait for the keurig to do its job. This is my favorite part of the day, when all is quiet, and the day is like a fresh, clean slate ready to be filled with experiences.

Coffee in hand, I either sit on the couch or take a walk outside to sit on the dock. This depends largely on the weather and our mosquito season. I spend some time in devotions and prayer to fuel my spirit and begin my journey toward another sunset.

I feel safe and at ease in the bosom of this home. It doesn’t matter if family is present or not; because there are so many memories. I only need to pull one up like a movie in my mind to remember the details of days gone by; of new babies arriving for the first time, running children and laughter, packing up rooms as kids move away, and making same rooms ready for visits.

Just knowing that my girls have this home base, however simple it is, is very important to me. Their memories are here. I know that if we were forced to move, we could make new memories and establish that same homey feeling, but I would so miss the memories.

For me, home is where I feel strong and grounded. These walls seem to envelop me with a hug that says, “You are safe here”. Silly? Maybe. A little overboard? Possibly. But, my home is truly a part of me and the joys of making others feel at home here is a pleasure that will go on until I reach my final days and go to my eternal home.

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: Family, Home

Cherish them!

July 10, 2013 Leave a Comment

The girls when they were young

I’m sitting here wrapped up in a blanket in July, in New Orleans, because my eldest keeps her house like a meat locker. I’m not complaining though, because I couldn’t be happier at this moment, if only I could lose the sinus headache.

It’s funny to sit here and listen to my daughters arguing over how much salt to put in the mashed potatoes and whether they are better with skin off or on.

It seems like only yesterday their arguments were far more boisterous and trespasses were not as quickly forgiven. There were days I thought I would explode if I heard, “Mom!” one more time. Now, there are days when I actually miss it.

There is nothing better than having family together, listening to the chatter and the laughter, recalling old memories and creating new ones.

I wish everyone would realize how important family is and make it a priority. Life is fleeting and there is nothing like the love of family. Your children will grow up so fast and time will really begin to fly more quickly the older you get. Enjoy them, love them, cherish their smiles and laughter and forgive hastily. Don’t set yourself up for regrets.

Love and blessings!

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: Family, forgiveness, love, Mashed potato, Mother, New Orleans, sisters

Up and at em’ (or not)

June 30, 2013 2 Comments

You cannot be a morning person AND a night owl. You are either one or the other and the sooner you find out which it is and embrace it, the happier you will be!

When I was a child, I tried desperately to hang out with the night owls. Although I must admit, this was frequently because I didn’t want to go into the dark scary room without my sister (who is younger than me) to protect me. More often than not, because she has a heart the size of Texas, she would give up her fun and go to bed so I could get to sleep. (We’re talking weekends and summers of course; we had a strict bedtime on school nights, which I was deeply thankful for) If nature called, she would also wake up and escort me through the door, not knowing what was on the other side, mind you! Then, it was down the dark hall to the potentially murderer infested bathroom.

My brother and sister could stay up late and watch Creature Feature and then sleep as long as mom let them on Saturday. We won’t even get into my hatred for Creature Feature. Me, I was up with the birds on Saturday morning, ready to start my day. My mom was also a morning person, so she and I were often the first ones up, which did give us some precious time together.

As childhood faded away, and the years of dating and driving arrived, I still savored my 10pm bedtime. It was no problem for me to make my curfew because I was getting tired anyway. Unfortunately, half the time I would arrive home to be told to go back out and find my sister, who wasn’t so good about hers.

This isn’t to say I didn’t have my late nights out on the rare occasion but I can tell you, I was probably fantasizing about my bed sometime around 10:30 or 11:00pm. If I was out and about after that, there was something pretty important going on, or I was just following the crowd. Can I say again how glad I am that the older you get, you don’t care about all that anymore? I saw someone complaining once (after 10pm) about not being able to go out – I was shocked; I don’t understand those people.

Nowadays, I am usually up by 5:30 on weekdays and 7:00 is about the latest I can ever sleep in, unless I am ill. My husband and my youngest are not morning people. I am pretty sure that I irritate them every morning, not only with the noise but with my sunshiny disposition most mornings. This is post coffee, of course, I will offer that. They really hate it when I want to talk (a lot) as soon as they get out of bed.

On the other hand, I get annoyed when they beg me to stay up late with them and watch a movie; they start getting drinks and snacks, when my digestive system is long done for the day. They “come alive” when I’m winding down.

So as their eyeballs seem to open wider and they hoot with the oncoming night, I find myself checking out and nodding off. But come morning, my eyes will pop open and welcome another glorious day, glad to be alive and up to see the sun rise, to start my day the right way, as it should be, wide awake, eyes wide open.

And for my fellow morning people, just in case you really want to watch and sing along I have attached one of my favorites to sing in the morning.

Aren’t you glad we aren’t carbon copies of one another? Where would the fun be in that? And now for some of my favorite quotes….

Lose an hour in the morning, and you will be all day hunting for it. ~Richard Whately

I’ll tell you how the sun rose a ribbon at a time. ~Emily Dickinson

Morning is when the wick is lit. A flame ignited, the day delighted with heat and light, we start the fight for something more than before. ~Jeb Dickerson

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: mornings, night owl, Owl, scared of the dark, sleeping

Too much stuff

June 28, 2013 Leave a Comment

Cluttered Bust (Photo credit: mikecogh)

When my mom was in her forties, although she only survived until 49, I remember her saying, “I’m sick of stuff!” She said it was time to enjoy people and memories and not concentrate on accumulating more stuff; her nick-nacks started to decrease because she didn’t want to spend the time dusting. Lately, I find myself sharing her sentiments. We have so much stuff to take care of that our efforts to keep up with it all cut into the time that we actually spend with our loved ones.

With this in mind, I knew one of the junked up areas in my home/life was my closet. When you go to get ready in the morning and you continually run into the problem where you cannot find that belt or tank or whatever the need of the day may be, you know it is time to get busy! I realize I should have done this as part of my annual spring cleaning. The problem with that is mine never got fully accomplished.

The closet attack started off with a bang and then as per usual, I get hung up in the details. Which hangers should I keep? Should I arrange by season or by color? Will that EVER fit, or should I just give it away and be done with the disappointment? Should I keep the few shoe boxes I have or get rid of them since I don’t have them all? This is the type of minutia that impedes my progress no matter the task!

Finally, I got frustrated, headed for my laptop and read some blogs about closet organization. You would think by 47, I would have figured all of this out long ago, but no, so thankfully I gleaned valuable tips from some savvy women.

Three bulging garbage bags later, I finally saw the bottom of my closet and everything was on a hanger or in a box. Oh, the feeling of finally allowing yourself to let go of “stuff”! But, seriously, if you haven’t worn something in a year, you just aren’t going to. You probably bought it on a whim, on sale or someone gave it to you . Let it go and preferably to someone who can really benefit!

Not a moment too soon, my husband came in for the evening and rescued me from further detailing, so I still have the color coding to go, but this girl is feeling accomplished. Yes, my first efforts in down-sizing to a more manageable collection of clothing was a success and I’m anxious to move on to something else.

Filed Under: Family and Home Tagged With: Bin bag, Box, Closet, Clothing, Family, Home, Parenting, Shopping

Digging up Memories

June 26, 2013 Leave a Comment

Reaching upward drinking in the rain

There is nothing more therapeutic in my opinion than digging in the dark soil, until it’s trapped beneath my fingernails, or pulling out the weeds around a plant or in a bed. These sneaky imposters, sporting defiant root systems and a plethora of seeds would like to spread themselves far and wide, but not while I’m on guard.

There is also something to be said for the feeling of accomplishment when you stand, back aching and neck burning from the sun’s much too ardent kiss; and admire your work.

The desire to dig in the dirt goes back at least four generations on my mother’s side. Most of my memories of my great-grandmother Hall are in her yard as I relentlessly peppered her with questions about what each planted was named. I loved to hear the names roll off of her lips; “Why that’s night blooming jasmine, honey”, or “this is a hydrangea or sweet viburnum”. The names sounded exotic and romantic.

Granny’s yard displayed much beauty due to her diligent care. I can only suppose that it was her love for gardening that sparked an interest in my grandmother.

Many times, if you visited either of them you would find them outside. I don’t remember ever seeing either of them in anything but dresses. They may have worn something else, but not that I ever remember. Of course that was when the length of dresses kept their “neathies” (as my mom liked to call anything that should be covered by clothes) unexposed.

My mother shared their green thumb and quickly transformed any yard we had into a well landscaped display of her talent. She recruited us as often as she could to help her and most of the time I was pretty compliant.

I inherited the love as well, but unfortunately not the knack or skill; I fear my thumb is sorely lacking in green. Thankfully, I’m getting better with age, but my kill quota was pretty high there for a while. Maybe one reason I love it so much is due to the memories that I made with each of them. Take some time to dig up some good memories of your own and relish them!