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I want to go there too!

We were visiting my grandma when it happened. From the bookshelf at the assisted living facility where she lives, I pulled a book with breathtaking photographs of wild animals in their natural habitats. My almost-3-year-old was mesmerized by the book for a good 15 minutes–which is quite amazing in itself, considering he isn’t inclined to sit still for an entire minute at a time. I was having fun explaining where the animals lived, making up stories about what they were doing and even counting “heads.” Grandma was just beaming watching her great-grandson delight in the images.

Then, the blue-eyed boy looked at me with the deepest, most pure longing and said “I go this place?” He wanted with all his heart to visit the places in the book. Those stark majestic mountains, crystal-blue untouched waters, and wild animal-populated grasslands. This brings back memories of the binder I kept as a young girl with all the collectible wildlife information cards. I can clearly see the attic door that I decorated with pictures of decadent waterfalls, stark cabins and lush rainforests cut from National Geographic. And I get a little lighthearted thinking about the longings I had to join Swiss Family Robinson or Hatchet on their wilderness quests. Oh honey, I want to go there too!

In the meantime, I might have to find him some National Geographics, buy him a “Nature Songs” CD or subscribe him to Ranger Rick. But that will have to be after I put together a “penny jar” for our dream vacation in the wilderness. And maybe we can kidnap grandma for awhile to take her there too. She would just love it!

Another Success Story

2011 Ford Mustang GT Convertible
Pic from jpowers65’s on Flickr

One of my uncles flew in Wednesday from Texas and flew back out early Thursday morning, and in that short time, his presence inspired me in three very influential, perhaps life-changing ways.

First, he bought my grandparents, his parents, two brand-spanking new vehicles. Yes, you heard that right! This has got to be the highlight of the month…winter…perhaps year. My grandma has always always had a dream of owning a little red sports car. Every one of us in the family knows this and has always known this. Well, how about a brand-new, lipstick-red, Ford Mustang convertible? I’m pretty sure that qualifies. I’m pretty sure that would also qualify as Socrates’ version of the “perfect form” of little red sports car. My grandpa is also enjoying his fresh-from-the-mint Ford Ranger. To me, this has very little to do with the materialistic aspect of the gifts. It’s about one man showing his deepest love, respect and gratitude to his parents. It is the most endearing, generous and lovely thing I have seen in a very long time.

You will never meet two more deserving people of that level of love and respect. I have always said that it would be difficult to demonstrate the level of my appreciation to them for all that they do, but that I just hope I can strive to be as good a parent/grandparent as they have been to their progeny. And this experience has made me want to be the best mom I can be for my son every.single.moment. I want to emulate whatever it is they’re doing so right. A mother’s level of love for her children is an impossible pinnacle to surpass, and I want my son to experience every morsel of it. I will never suppress it or keep it undercover from him. And I hope that one day, he too will raise a family of all-around good people.

Second, my uncle is an affluent businessman. He radiates an air of utter unerring confidence wherever he is. I only had the opportunity to visit with him for a few hours. But even in that length of time, his aura of dignity and integrity resonated with me. There is not a hint of hesitation in his step or passiveness in his manner. I am constantly trying to evolve and progress in my personal life and profession. And his presence and long-standing success infused me with a fresh surge of inspiration.

Third, I didn’t recognize the man when I walked in the door of the dealership. He has lost over 100 lbs and looks amazing. There’s definition in his face and a sense of limberness in his body. I’m a complete sucker for a success story. I go scouting for them when I need a boost. And when a success story hits this “close to home” (really!), it is the most potent of all. All I can say is, my grandpa has obviously passed on his diligence and self-discipline to other members of the family, providing other role models for me to revere and success stories to challenge me–and hopefully others as well!

I Love you Again and Again

We should be able to marry again and again and again.

There is so much anticipation, so many loved ones in one place, so much love radiating from the pews, so much fun to be had dancing with little tykes and all the uncles, and so much thought into every thread that graces the stage on that ceremonious day (and so little of it afterwards) that it should never have to stop. And the look in each other’s eyes and those magical words “I do” could never lose their magic.

Besides, it can be so hard to narrow down a theme that it would be fun to be able to pick a different one every five years or experience an elopement, try a non-traditional dress, make room in the wedding party for new friends in your life, or give out party favors that convey something from each set of years you’ve spent together.

Oh, I could definitely live without the familial friction and the staggering bills, but I would desperately love to relive that enchantment that lasts only hours for one short miraculous day.

We evolve in our love for one another. And we could use a way to truly express that love beyond such trivial means available to the already-married. A way to renew that bond and celebrate something of such significance. To feel that raw love anew.

I’ll Order My Table Old-Fashioned

It seems like a novelty, like a Norman Rockwell painting. Like something that can’t be managed or isn’t taken very seriously. But having dinner together at the kitchen table is more crucial than most people imagine.

First, the dinner table forges a sense of connection. When the entire family is sitting together in one place, instead of eating in separate rooms or vehicles, they get a chance to talk and review their days. There’s no interference from the television or other outside distractions. The parents are also providing evidence to their kids that this family connection is more important than anything else (work, piling laundry, etc). The focus is completely on the family and everyone in it. Everyone has their place in the family.

Second, because there are no distractions, each person is also able to focus more on what they’re eating so they don’t stuff more in their mouths than when hypnotized by The Bachelor. Studies show you’re more likely to overeat when you eat while distracted. You naturally take more time and become mindful of what you’re eating at the table.

Third, studies show that children who regularly eat at the dinner table will be less likely to use drugs and alcohol, be less stressed, get better grades and eat better. Seriously, this one simple thing can have the most profound life-altering effect.

Fourth, everyone eats better. If you’re at the dinner table, the dinner is more than likely made at home which more than likely means it’s healthier than what you’d find at the drive-through or restaurant table. Servings usually aren’t dished in heaving portions (well, maybe at Christmas) allowing everyone to stop eating when they’re actually full, not when they’ve gotten their $10.99-worth. I did read somewhere that people who eat around the table are more likely to be healthy and in shape as well, perhaps as a result of healthy eating.

Fifth, the dinner table provides one of the most effectual places for parents to teach their children about manners. Whether teaching about table manners (don’t talk with your mouth full, please help your brother clear the table) or social graces (shake Mr. Adams hand) in general, the dinner table can be the cornerstone of etiquette training.

Sixth, for a young child, the kitchen table is a wonderful starting place for teaching them how to sit still and providing them with other basic discipline (it’s not polite to kick Johnny, don’t leave the table until you’re excused). This basic training will then carry over to church pews and restaurant tables where screaming, wiggly, milk-spewing children are not necessarily condoned.

Seventh, along those same lines, dinner at the table provides a crucial sense of routine for smaller children. Something they can rely on. Every parent knows that routine is the basis of cooperation with toddlers and provides a sense of stability with older children.

Eighth, the dinner table allows you the chance to demonstrate to your children what healthy eating habits look like. Vegetables aren’t gross, we don’t need to hide in a closet to eat, a pile of crackers is not a dinner, it’s not shameful to eat a bite of cake once in awhile, and it’s worth it to try new things.

Ninth, the preparation of the meal is a wonderful opportunity to offer your children a sense of responsibility. When they get to mix the cookie batter, stir the meat, or time the noodles, they’re learning exactly what preparing a meal entails and how to succeed in life. They’ll be much more self-sufficient as adults and hold their responsibilities in high regard when they learn how to prepare their own food at a young age.

One of the safest places in the world is at the dinner table. Let’s eat!

You’ve Got Male

Will someone please explain to me the expectations of a man? Wow, loaded question. I have little understanding of that psyche that at once believes a woman should be the traditional nurturer and caretaker at the same time as she should also be the modern working woman. I enjoy my work and could never be a full-time, stay-at-home mom. That’s just me. However, after days filled with meetings, deadlines, sales tactics and problem-solving, I revel in the chance to head out the door to the arms of my babbling bundle. I do not, however, enjoy the thought of plundering through an overflowing sink, curing grime-tinted floors, and reviving carpet from cat puke. But somehow, those roles have been delegated to me.

I understand the deep-seated desire for the traditional home cooked meal and clean house. I too enjoy the aroma of simmering stew and all those other smells that enveloped the childhood home. I just don’t want to be the one who has to don the apron and create them. The magic disappears. The crumbs left over turn me into a grump and the dishes…oh, the dishes.

I have this theory that boys just don’t see things like crumbs on the carpet and dog spit on the walls, which gets them out of cleaning them up. They’ve been programmed to “miss” the growing piles of envelopes, dust bunnies and weeds. Am I the only one in this house who ever picks up around here? Picks up what, dear? Alas, I give up.

It seems that the expectations we have of women are soaring while the expectations we have of men remain largely the same. While I believe wholeheartedly in equality, it is now increasingly difficult for a woman to catch a break while men are resting their feet on our polished living room tables.

Don’t even get me started on the classic argument about how I work in an office and he works in a factory so therefore I should do more grunt work at home. Is my time put in worth nothing? Is kicking ass to put myself through college all on my own (and coming out with $0 debt, thank you very much) not enough to warrant me a little bit of respect and rest? Honey, you could’ve done what I did too and you wouldn’t be working in the factory today, now would you?

After all the child-rearing, grocery shopping, interior decorating, itinerary making, snot chasing, budget writing, order taking, nursery-rhyme singing and full-time working, the modern woman sometimes wants to feel taken care of, after so long bearing the responsibility of “caring-for.”

Birth Order

I’ve been told I was a favorite perhaps by teachers and family members. I’ve also been told quite the opposite. But let me tell you. When someone tells me I’m their favorite, as gracious as it sounds, there is always a bit of guilt attached. In the bigger picture, each person has something distinctive to contribute and why should my contributions be any better? You are suddenly bound to these high expectations that you never knew you were being judged against. And even if the person(s) you are being compared to are your worst enemy, you can’t help but feel a little let down by the fact that the person choosing favorites, who is supposed to be a responsible adult, is making this judgement call.

Favoritism in families seems to be a common phenomenon (isn’t that an oxymoron?) and many times based on birth order. I can see it blatantly in my husband’s family. But there are always other factors that make me wonder about where it’s originating from. Such as, which chicken/egg came first, the kid’s bad attitude or the difference in treatment between siblings? I have no idea. I see this also within friends’ families. One sibling, 10 years junior, gets coddled to pieces while the other had been left, earlier in time, to fend for herself. Although the junior sibling receives plenty of perks, I think the older sibling deserves heeps of credit for finding her way on her own.

Even though I would’ve loved for someone to have paid my way through college, I have a deeper respect for myself, and I hope others have for me as well, for having paved my own way. I believe I have refined qualities of self-reliance and resourcefulness because of it. I don’t owe anyone but myself for that, of which I am eternally grateful.