Out of the mouths of babes

I was just getting out the Christmas lights and it reminded me of this story about Austin:

I have always thought that less was more when it came to Christmas decorating outside. I love the understated look of  single  white candles in the windows, and a pretty evergreen wreath on the door. It looks calm to me. Inviting. Elegant.

Austin, on the other hand, thinks the more wattage used, the merrier the Christmas. He began lobbying for blue Christmas lights as soon as he was old enough to talk. He loved to drive around at night and look at all the Christmas lights. He begged us to put up blue Christmas lights. I decided that maybe we were depriving him of some basic need that he would grow up to resent us for. So, I began negotiations with him. I figured I could stand the little white icicle lights. So, I told him we would get some white lights for our house. This didn't satisfy him. He wanted blue lights and nothing but blue lights...and lots of them! We had this discussion for two years. No compromise was reached, so I continued to do my candles in the windows, wreath on the front door routine. He was less than impressed.

The year he was five, we were driving home from the mall at night and he was strapped in the back seat looking at all the brightly lit houses we passed. I heard this coming from the back seat in such a defeated little voice: "Oh, look, they have blue lights. Oh, wow, aren't their blue lights so pretty. I sure do love blue lights." I was saying nothing. Hoping that he would get over his lust for blue lights. After a few minutes of silence, I hear this: "(insert big sigh), Santa Claus is coming to my house in four more days, there are no blue lights on my house, how sad is that"?

I think that is when it hit me just how important these blue lights were to my little guy. Have I mentioned that I hate blue Christmas lights? I didn't know what to do. I really did NOT want to put blue lights on my house. But how can a mother hear what I'd heard and not find some way to give him what he wanted so badly.

While shopping last year I discovered icicle lights that were both blue AND white. I thought it would be a compromise. I thought he would be thrilled. He would get some blue lights on the house , and I could still have my simple white ones.  I bought enough of those  stupid things to light up Trump Tower. We  put them up last year while he was at his Grandma's. I was so excited for him to see them. When he came home that night and saw them he was less than overwhelmed. "Too many white ones", was his analysis. I was thinking, "Too many blue ones". 

We will hang them up again this year. And, I've already decided that if he still isn't thrilled with them. Next year, I will get him the blue lights he's coveted. He is so quickly coming to the end of his childhood innocence  regarding Christmas. The magic will soon be gone for him regarding Santa Claus. His friends are  telling him there is no such thing. I would hang whatever it took on my house to keep him believing. If only blue lights would do it.

 

The Best Gift

I was anxious to get some Christmas shopping done today. I headed to town  and was busy checking things off my list when I remembered that I had promised Austin on Saturday that I would come to his school and have lunch with him on Tuesday. He didn't mention it this morning before he left for school and I had forgotten about it as well. While standing in line to check out at one of the department stores I remembered it. I would have just enough time to make it to his school when his class goes to lunch. I stood there debating with myself about what to do. I figured that he had forgotten it, since he hadn't mentioned it this morning. I could stay in town and get some more shopping done or I could honor my promise to him and go have lunch with him. The evil Mommy in me reasoned that he'd forgotten about it, so I'd probably be off the hook if I didn't go. But the nice Mommy in me didn't want to let him down in case he'd remembered. I really wanted to stay and do more shopping. I got in my car to leave, still not sure which direction I was going to head in. Last minute decision coming out of the parking lot was to go to school.

I walked to the cafeteria and realized that his class was already in cafeteria line. I went to the  table designated for his class (I've eaten with him before) and waited for him to come  out. The look on that child's face when he saw me was worth more than all the money in the world. Right there, in front of all of his friends, he yelled, "Mommy! You came!",  and I got a big bear hug right in front of everyone. 

He told me as he ate that he had forgotten that I was supposed to come today. I could have stayed and shopped and he wouldn't have held it against me. But ya know what? If I'd done that, I would be the one that had been let down most of all. I would have felt guilty the rest of the day. But more importantly, I would not have had the gift of  the look on his face when he realized that Mommy remembered even if he had forgotten.

I just tucked him in a few minutes ago and do you know what he said to me? He said, "Mommy, thank you for coming to have lunch with me today, lunch is more fun when you're there."

I got my Christmas gift early this year. I don't need another thing.

Happy Thanksgiving

I worked tonight (last night), since it's 5:39 AM Thursday and I haven't been to bed yet, I'm not sure  what to call it. So, let's  just call it CRAZY! I feel like I've been wrestling all  day. At work I wrestled with a little old lady to keep her in bed. I wrestled with a little old man to keep him on the unit (he was convinced that he'd forgotten to lock the front door, bless his heart). Let's just say that work was a challenge tonight. Then I come home and I wrestled with the darn turkey.  We are deep frying a turkey at my daughter's for Thanksgiving, but I also wanted to bake  (or is it roast) one. The one that we're going to deep-fry is at Sarah's house  awaiting the  master of turkey frying. I was planning to get up very early and take this turkey to Sarah's in the morning to bake  (roast) it. But the thought of waking up early is so vile to me that I decided I'd rather stay up late (I think I got a tad carried away, however), and bake it here . Anyway, it took me a good 30 minutes to wrestle the neck out of that darn bird. You know that little bag that they stick the neck and giblets in before they tuck it inside the bird? Well, the bag inside my turkey was in upside down, so when I tried to pull it out the neck slipped out the other end and stayed in the turkey. I tried every which way to get the neck out of that cavity and it just wasn't coming. I could have untucked the drumsticks from that neat little pocket they fashion and gotten the neck out pretty easily I suppose, but I've done that before and then was unable to do that little leg-tuck thing they do (how DO they do that anyway?). So, I wrestled the neck for thirty minutes. I used every gadget I could find in my drawers to pull it out, no luck. I finally stood there in my kitchen laughing hysterically at myself thinking what a picture it must have made. I was alone, however, because the sane people that live in this house were all asleep hours ago. Then, I got my hand stuck inside the turkey. Finally, I got it out. Turkey is in the roasting bag, in the oven. Now, my problem is that if I lie down for a bit, I know I'll not wake up when the oven timer goes off. So, I have to stay awake until the turkey is done. Of course, by then, I'll be so exhausted I won't be worth a nickle. I've decided it would have been much easier to have cooked this meal here at my house instead of taking it to my daughter's and doing it. But, it's too late to change that now. And besides, she is very excited to have her first "holiday" in her new home. So, I'll load up and drag all the ingredients to her house and smile while I do it. All of this probably makes no sense, as I'm slap-happy and sleep deprived, but I had to do somehthing while the bird is cooking.

I love Thanksgiving. It's not about gifts. It's the one holiday that they haven't managed to commercialize. It's about being with people you love and eating.  What could be better than that? Plus, think of all those wonderful turkey and mayonaise sandwiches all weekend. Yum!

May you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Mine will probably end abruptly as I collapse in the mashed potato's.

I love being a Mom!

This is in my morning email:  Too funny!

Although it might be a celebration day for many people, you Crabs could be the ones who have to hold down the fort. Normally you enjoy being part of the cooking team for Thanksgiving, but today it might seem like more of a chore than usual. Don't waste energy complaining. If you do what is expected, you can experience joy from the closeness of family and friends.

 

 

Feeling Guilty!

My phone rang a few minutes ago. I've learned to check caller ID before answering. It was the hospital calling. I debated with myself about answering. I decided to wait and see what message they would leave  instead of answering. Well, guess what. They wanted to know if I would work Thanksgiving evening. We work  every other holiday. Last year was my Thanksgiving to work. When I got to work last year they came  to me and asked me if I would work a double shift. I figured since I was already there  and my holiday was already screwed up, why not. They gushed about how grateful they were and told me that since I was doing them such a huge favor that they would do everything within their power to give me Christmas Eve  off. Well, Christmas Eve came  and  they didn't call me  off. 

 My newly married daughter and her husband are  having Thanksgiving at their house. I'm doing the cooking, but it's at their house.  We're planning to eat around 1:00, so realistically I could work at 3:00 I suppose. But, darn it, I don't want to!!! 

In the middle of typing the above, the hospital called back. I again didn't answer, this time it was my manager, I dearly love her and she knows this. Her message was more pleading than the staffing clerk that called earlier. I hate it when they do this to me. If  I say I'll work, my family will be very upset with me. But, if I don't work, then I feel like I'm letting  a lot of people down . 

 I have to work Christmas Day evening this year  and New Years Eve.  I know, wha -wha! But darn it, I don't want to work Thanksgiving too!  They call me because they know I always cave in and agree to work. There are those that I work with that never ever work an extra shift for any reason. I always feel guilty because I know the patients don't want to be there on a holiday either, and someone has to take care of them. I don't know what to do.

I have to call them and give them some kind of answer. I'm going to go take a walk, maybe if I walk around the block a few times and keep chanting, No, No, No, No, No, No, it will be easier to say no when I call them back.  Yeah, riiiiight!

Storytime

I love this picture. Doesn't it make you feel serene and calm just to look at it? I had the night off tonight. I looked forward all day to putting a fire in the fireplace and snuggling on the couch to read to Austin. While going through some things in the basement a few weeks ago, I came across an old box of books that had belonged to my first litter (remember, raising Austin isn't my first tumble in the dryer). I found a little chapter book, SOUNDER by William H. Armstrong (Newberry Medal Winner). I don't remember ever reading it before, in fact I wasn't familiar with this
book at all. I guess one of the girls bought it a long time ago and read it alone.

Austin and I were curled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket and the fire crackling. Such a sweet place to be. The story starts out about a little black boy a long time ago. His father was a sharecropper. It was winter time and there were no crops to work for money. The weather had been bad for coon hunting and in the winter they relied on coon skins for money and food. He wakes up one morning to smell pork sausage frying and ham boiling in water on the wood cook stove. His mother, he notices, is very nervous. I had deduced that his father had done something illegal to get this food for his family and I was worried about how all this was going to turn out. But, I had no idea the conversation that I was going to be forced into when I sat down and snuggled in with my son for a peaceful storytime.

Now, imagine this scene; I'm reading along when out of the blue I find myself in the middle of the following sentences after the local sheriff has burst through the door of their cabin. "There are two things I can smell a mile," the first man said in a loud voice. "One's a ham cookin' and the other's a thievin' (insert n word here)."

I stopped right after saying "thievin'" and said, "Austin, I can't read this word to you." I don't think this child has ever heard that word. He certainly has never heard it from me. I stammered for a bit. I was mad! I was furious that this word had crept into our peaceful little world there on the couch during what was supposed to be a peaceful evening of reading to my little boy. I thought that this book was going to be about a little boy and his dog, Sounder. Now, don't misunderstand me here. It wasn't that I was going to have to explain about ugliness in the world. I don't ever shy away from that. I was angry that I had not been able to choose the time. But, there it was, and explaining it was mine to do. So, I did. Or at least I tried to. I didn't know how to answer his questions about why some people hate some people just because their skin is a different color. This was an entirely new concept to him. He's never seen or heard anyone treat his friends, Chellen, Vanessa, and Bre badly because their skin happens to be black.It had never occured to him that there was anyting different about his friends. They were just Chellen, Vanessa, and Bre. No different than Megan, Trevor, and Daniel. This is what I was so mad about. He was so innocent. So ignorant of such ignorance. What should have been a pleasant moment between mother and son had turned into a life lesson that I didn't think was necessary at this moment in his life.

So, we discussed it. I told him that he sould never ever use that word. That it was a disgusting word that mean and ignorant people used. I told him that if he ever heard that word again that he should recognize what it meant and should stand up for his friends if it were ever directed at them. By the indignation and shock that he expressed, I have no doubt that he wouldn't tolerate it.

As I said, I was very upset by the whole incident. I put him to bed, listened to his prayers, kissed him goodnight and turned out the light. As I closed his door my heart was heavy that our evening had been tarnished. I've thought about it a lot since then, and I'm ashamed of myself. What was wrong with me!! I have now decided that I'm grateful that I was the one that was right there beside him the first time this ugly word entered his world. I'm glad I was there to explain ignorance and bigotry to him. I'm not happy that these are things that any child has to learn about. But I'm glad he didn't hear it for the first time on a playground where he wouldn't have a frame of reference to filter it through. And you know, it came to me as I was folding clothes in the laundry room after he was asleep, wouldn't the world be better off if every child could learn of the evilness in the world from the comfort of a parent's lap who could then go on to explain that it was up to them and other's like them to see that those kinds of words and deeds didn't continue.

Yes, our "comfortable" little scene was disturbed tonight. But, I'm glad now. My little boy went to bed having learned a lesson that I hope he never forgets. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there were a million other littleboys and girls that had their "comfortable" little scenes disturbed also.

Sweet dreams, my little Austin.

Well, I set up a space on blogger. I posted a couple of times over there and to tell you the truth, my heart just isn't in it. I'm not sure why, it just isn't.

Everyone has to do what they feel is the best for them. I have those that I read and I will read them no matter where they set up shop. I'm loyal like that. I may post on both for a while until I feel more at peace about a decision. But for now, I'm going to continue with my journal here.  Do I like the ads? No, I don't at all. But, in the grand scheme of things, they don't affect my life or thoughts one iota. I respect everyone's right to choose otherwise, and I hope that those that are leaving J-land will not hold it against those of us that choose not to. I read the journals that I read because I enjoy them. They inspire and entertain me. I don't not read a journal because I don't like the graphics or ads. I won't give those ads the power to determine what I read. I will simply ignore them.

While going through pictures tonight, I came upon this one....it's one of my favorites. It was taken three years ago. It's my oldest son, Patrick and my youngest child, Austin. They were both in my nieces wedding. I think it looks like an advertisement for tuxedos.