petite picassos
September 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
Clean unmarked paper and boxes of unused crayons waited wrapped in anticipation of tiny hands transcribing daydreams into art; whimsical manifestations of unlimited imagination. I facilitate an art based fundraiser at my daughter’s elementary school and this year I am broadening our fundraiser to extend to the Kindergarten students.
This week I sat beside my new Kindergarten friends in awe of the grace of childhood. With each introduction, I was greeted with kindness and curiosity. My aspirations to bring art into the students’ school day experience was eclipsed by the beauty of the students’ eagerness to create something new.
I gave each child a blank piece of paper, wooden shapes, and a sharpened pencil with the following instructions: Today you are going to draw an image using shapes. You may trace them or create them, combine them or overlap them. There is no wrong answer only what you see. The next time I visit, we will add color.
Heads bowed over their paper, they each gathered curves and lines into a thought. They spun stories between shapes. Each name drawn cautiously and proudly at the top of their paper became the face of the unique personality with whom I shared a moment of inspiration. Endearing stories, curious questions, and spontaneous exclamations filled hours of my day with wonder.
My goodbye was met with a gleeful cheer that bubbled effervescently from large hearts tucked inside tiny vessels. I can hardly wait to go back to school with my rainbow of crayons and watch them fill their thoughts with color.
that again
September 18, 2011 § Leave a comment
Familiar seems to be my specialty, each evening I serve That Again. Perhaps my family is unfamiliar with the proper name of the recipe. In this case the substitution of a neutral, one-size-fits-all title similar to What’s Her Name can clearly be interpreted as an effort to be social and mingle over a meal. I would infer a passive aggressive complaint, but that assumption would contradict the complacent silence that follows my weekly endeavor to please plea of What would everyone like to eat? I am unquestionably the Culinary Queen of the quintessential Overdone. I would like to thank the little people in my life for making this moment possible.
just say ouch
September 14, 2011 § Leave a comment
Stubbed toe, paper cut, minor burn; in each instance we instinctively flinch, move to protect or comfort ourselves, and say ouch. It occurs to me that there are other moments when speaking our mind is coded in etiquette, covering up genuine feeling with good behavior. I can’t, I wish I could, maybe next time seem like fantastic, dramatic versions of no. Instead of speaking my truth, I often say yes and then carry the burden of my own self-induced discomfort. I am learning to say no, but the lessons along the way have left me feeling a little sore and muttering ouch.
I spent the first several years of my married life distorting my own opinions, wishes, and needs to accommodate the expectations of my mother-in-law. I was determined to please and escape the stereotypical power struggle. Instead, I created an unrealistic expectation of agreeability that has haunted me ever since. The late introduction of the word no deemed mean spirited rather than an expression of different needs.
I am equally certain I have friends that think I like particular hobbies or collectables because my polite conversation was void of any word resembling no. I am so fascinated and inspired by the diverse group of women in my life that I will nod amiably to garner their company rather than risk differentiating myself by just saying no.
Today, sitting in a room full of bright, thoughtful women, that give generously of their time to our elementary school I wondered how many of them are overextended because somewhere along the way saying no was deemed selfish. This thought distracted me throughout our noon meeting as I considered the familiar faces of the volunteers. Despite the variety of fundraisers or academic events, it seems the same names find their way onto each list. This year, I stepped back from a couple of my previous responsibilities for personal reasons; logical, valid reasons that suddenly felt selfish in the company of other mothers. I began to feel guilty for using the word no even though speaking it gave me peace.
I have no clear answer, but I cannot seem to shrug the question of how do we express ourselves genuinely without alienating people we love and while acknowledging our own unique needs?
Rx: rest
September 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
For the past couple of days my husband has balanced work and a house project, keeping late hours toiling away at a task he doesn’t enjoy. He did this while I slept peacefully unaware courtesy of sleep-inducing, over-the-counter allergy medicine. I am writing this because sometimes we say thank you, but cannot hear the value behind the words.
When I don’t feel well, I need to stop and rest. I am someone who seemingly catches everyone else’s bug if I am not well rested. Once sick, I don’t stand a chance of getting well without tuning out and turning in. At the moment I am well, but seasonal allergies have me stuffy and red, pouty and tired; sleeping a wonderful reprieve from irritating symptoms.
My gratitude comes from being allowed to be selfish. The time that is normally our time at the end of the day has been my time. We don’t go out as often as we would like, evenings after the children are tucked into bed are our time to reconnect. My husband set aside our time and gave me his time to rest. Genuine appreciation lies behind two little words: thank you.
stillness
September 9, 2011 § 3 Comments
I endeavor to teach my children the value of quiet spaces; learning to be still and find peace. Restless when still, they find pockets of peace drawing, reading, and building with Legos. The simple repetition of their actions lull them into a comfortable silence.
I create similar moments of stillness for myself. Each morning I absorb the silence of my home before the rest of my family stirs from bed. I need this stillness, to center myself for the day ahead. It is a routine indulgence I cherish; quiet, uninterrupted moments of meditation and peace. Other times, like my children, I find quiet in the pages of a book. Setting aside my thoughts, concerns, questions for another voice; distraction providing a stillness from the fluid stream of thoughts that follow me in consciousness.
Today I found stillness in the company of a friend. The easy familiarity borne of childhood confidences marking a safe place to be still and unwind from expectations of marriage and motherhood. A simple, unassuming moment of sharing, creating a rejuvenating stillness.
These moments of stillness bear a peaceful and joyful energy that accompany me through my day. I wonder how others foster stillness in their lives?
no message
September 9, 2011 § 1 Comment
My mother will call to remind me to call. I missed a call. Busy with random distractions, I barely registered the absence of a message until the day had passed. The following day, at my first quiet opportunity, I called my mother to collect my message.
My mother was robbed.
The words before and immediately following my mother’s news were drowned out by waves of shock. The voice at the end of the line was hollow, gone was the sound of my mother’s smile and sense of humor. The damage unseen is significant.
Miles away and scared, my mother is lost in her home. I imagine the stairs my children climb, the chair in which my mother knits, the table where we share Thanksgiving dinner and wonder at the unseen guest that walked freely uninvited.
There is no comfort, no words to undo this act of unkindness. What was taken is secondary to the sense of security that has been stolen.
I keep calling my mother to remind her to call.
flip-flops and jeans
September 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
It is one of my favorite times of year, the brief spell between Summer and Fall, just before we set our clocks back loaning an hour to Spring. Seasons mingle as I cling to summer comforts and fall favorites; cool mornings with warm coffee and sunny afternoons with stolen moments on the school yard swing set.
The weather turned cooler yesterday and I felt the first stirrings of anticipation for apple cider and the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. We opened the windows in our home to collect the crisp, cool air. Outdoors we soaked up the sunshine, tossing our coats aside and playing with new friends beneath an ancient tree. As the evening air chilled, we gathered our blankets and books close.
One of my favorite local bagel shops has filled their case with pumpkin specials and my coffee shop is serving up seasonal lattes. All around me old favorites are ushering in a new season. I scamper to and fro in flip-flops and jeans.
on the clock
September 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am attempting to restructure my days to accommodate my efforts to write and more efficiently address the maintenance of my home. I am good at making a list and setting goals, but I am poor at sticking to a schedule.
In a wish as yet unspoken, I want this practice of writing to be a bigger part of my life. I am not sure yet how to manifest this wish and I acknowledge that I cannot bring this to fruition without an ability to visualize an end result or the steps that would lead me there.
For now, I am taking advantage of a quiet household on school days and holding myself accountable for working on my dream, on the clock. Carving out a time and place of physical possibility and emotional value for something that I love.
blind dates
September 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
I have been married for over 11 years. Twice, in the past 7 years, my children have sent me on blind dates. With other mothers.
My first blind date began with a phone call. Tucked securely in a hospital bed, in premature labor with my daughter, a nurse slipped me my neighbor’s phone number. I remember our nurse shaking her head, all smiles, saying definitively: “The two of you have to meet.” A warm voice filled with humor and compassion called from the other side of the wall; our nurse’s knowing smile a premonition of friendship to come. Once our children were born, we met; she and her family have held a special place in my heart ever since.
Today it was my son handing me a phone. “Here Mom. It’s my new friend’s mom. Maybe you could be friends.” I had to smile at the irony. My children seem blessed with a gift of gathering special souls into our lives. Tomorrow I will meet a new friend and her family. I wonder what the future holds.
