Things that Made Me Happy Today

Numero uno: Memories of Halloween. One of the
best nights of the year. And the seemingly unending supply of
Reese's pb cups and Hershey's dark chocolate that now

resides

in my
kitchen.

Numero duo: MY 4-year-old, that's right, MINE...who was possibly the only one in her class (at least that's how I heard the it) who knew the names of both presidential candidates. And their platforms. And their voting records. OK, maybe not. But she can pick them out of a line-up from a distance of 10 feet and that's

pretty

darned

cool.

Numero three: The mental prep my girls are doing to be sure they are prepared for long lines tomorrow. We have listed all items we will bringing to the voting place (Harry Potter book, a Barbie computer, drawing papers, Uno, fold up chairs and a pen. And possibly candy.) And we have figured out a plan for what we'll do if we need to visit the potty during our wait in line (we will go with our sister while mom holds our place in line). If you see us there, please feel free to

join us

in a game

of Uno.

Number Four: Lunch. Friends. Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion, honey.

Number 5: Coming home hugs and kisses from this one. Ahhhh.

That's better.

What Does God Look Like?

Enroute between church and home on Sunday afternoons, we sometimes are treated to interesting conversation. This week, Big Stuff asked, What does God look like? Apparently unsatisfied with my lame response - We don't know honey, but we'll find out someday - Small Fry immediately takes up the challenge with all the authority of a theologian. "He wears a long white shirt. His hair is like this (gestures), and he has a moustache." She thinks for a moment, then adds (for humility's sake, surely): "But I don't know what kind of shoes he wears." I'm going to go with flip flops.

Heaven Sent

I got a gift today. I'm watching Small Fry on the playground, and mulling hard and heartbreaking things over in my mind, when I notice a little girl of about 3, with Down Syndrome, was going around the playground giving out hugs. I smile and think, oh how cute. How precious. Her little polka-dotted bow was stuck precariously in her bobbed haircut. Her great big eyes were smiling and delighted. My mind, as it is apt to do, wanders back to my worries, and I look away. But wait... Here she comes, arms outstretched. Oh! For me? A sweet moon face turns up for a kiss. Now how did she know that is exactly what I needed today?

Monday's Provisions

Yes, I know the world is crashing all around us.

And our 401ks look like minus 401ks.
And the election. And the banks. And the layoffs.

And so on, and so on, ad nauseum.

Really, how could I miss the constant barrage of news and conversation on these very topics??

What an unfortunate time to get accidentally free cable.

But still I'm grateful.

Call me One Hot Pollyanna, but I'm actually rather stubbornly determined to be grateful.

I'm grateful for a husband who makes me laugh by saying, hey if the worst happens, we'll just go back to Florida and move in with your parents. (Just kidding, mom and dad!) And I'm grateful for a partner who nods and truly agrees with me when I say, as long as we've got the Good Lord and each other, we'll be fine.

I'm grateful for kids who are so oblivious to the world's woes that they can be happy for hours catching lizards and meticulously constructing fairy houses from sticks and rose petals.

Talk about trust.

I'm grateful for those kiddos, just in general. The opportunity to love on them. Pet them. Make them feel better when they are sick. Delight them with outlandish bedtime stories. Kiss their toes. Grant their wishes. (At least some of them). Cart them around and swell up with poorly concealed pride that I am, actually, their very own mama. Me!

It's easy to forget that there are people in the world who would give anything, anything to love on their babies tonight. And mine are right here! Within my reach. Ready for some good lovin' any old time. Can you believe my luck?!

Me either. But I'm working on it.

How's Your Mom and Them?

An excellent primer for Yankees on the use of y'all.....

It's a Snowflaky World

I've been turning over the premise of a study I've been doing in my mind for a couple of weeks. The premise is that we start out life as maverick-like Individuals...we have all these hopes and dreams and ideas in our youth. Children revel in themselves and love to feel special. Then we grow up and begin to make decisions. A funnel effect occurs as we make one decision and rule out 10 others, and so on down the line. One day we wake up in a life that looks eerily like the lives of every other person we have surrounded ourselves with. You look around and see very little variation in the landscape. Everyone is thinking, doing, feeling, talking and living...exactly the same way. And all of a sudden, you feel a little Trapped. That's when you know that the Individual part of you is feeling smothered, shoved into the back room closet.

It's so interesting how we are made. God made each one of us completely unique - no two exactly the same - just like the snowflakes. But he also made us so alike that we have many, many things in common with the other humans. We're all snow, after all, even if we're also all flakes. And isn't is such a delight to find common ground with a new friend or a writer's words or a piece of music ...it Resonates. And you say, YES! I have felt that. I have thought that. I believe that. And it's a great feeling. It's simpatico. Commonality allows us to feel connected. Individuality allows us to feel special. And God, brilliantly, made us with both halves of the same whole. Individual, but yearning for connection. Unique, but made for community.

I think one of our downfalls is when we cannot appreciate that dual nature in others, or in ourselves. We swing too far either way and forget that the most natural place is right in the middle. Some cling to their individuality at the expense of their connections with others. Then come the feelings of isolation and resentment that no one understands. Some become obsessed with conformity and begin to drown in self-imposed rules about how they "must" act or dress or think. Then come the feelings of entrapment. If only we could regard ourselves as God must. Completely unique and precious individuals, who are designed to love and be loved by their understanding journey-mates. This is why I love travel so much. It is a reminder that anywhere you go in the world, people are very different. And very alike. See? Snowflaky!

Finding Love at the Skating Rink

Remember when we were too young to drive and too old to hang out with our parents on Friday night? And we put on our cutest clothes and our pinkest lip gloss and our biggest hairdo and had our moms drop us off at the local skating rink? As we walked in the doors, we were mesmerized by the mysterious darkness, the pulsating music, the smell of overcooked pizza and the sight of the glittering disco ball. Ahhhh...pre-teen heaven. It was one of the first places we went to see and be seen. We could scan the room instantly, and with laser-like precision, pick out our friends, our frenemies and the objects of our romantic crushes. Let the drama begin!! A successful night might mean escaping the wrath of the ever-present skating rink bullies or being asked to couple-skate by the right boy. A really successful night might end with you and the-cutest-boy-ever "going together," whatever that meant. It was all about looking for love, wasn't it? Just like every other Friday night for the rest of our lives, until we hopefully found "true love" and made it our own. There is something magnetic about the skating rink. Even Big Stuff, who is a few years away from looking for love (Thank you, Jesus), could not get enough of the skating rink recently. Round and round she went. For almost three hours. She cried when we finally had to go home, and said we could live at the skating rink if only her parents weren't so mean and unreasonable, insisting on living in a house and sleeping in beds and all. Cutie Pie, who was apparently a preteen skating rink god (you learn something new every day!), picked up all his old moves right away. He tried to teach me to turn and backward skate, but apparently if you don't learn these skills by age 13, your chances of mastering them are close to nil. He did hold my hand for a few turns around the floor though. And he did try to show off a little (hey, don't we look better than that other dad and daughter?) It was cute. Toward the end, the DJ hooked us up with the Alan Jackson 9/11 song, which goes something like this: And some good things He gave us are Faith, Hope and Love....and at this moment I'm passing my sweet little girl holding hands with her Daddy and looking up into his encouraging eyes, big smiles on both of their faces....And the greatest is Love..... And the greatest is Love. My conclusion? It's still possible to find true love at the skating rink.