Learning Lessons From 2010

This post is part of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. I chose the prompt: "What happened in 2010 that you'd rather not repeat?"



I swear that each morning when I hear the shuffling foot steps coming down the stairs that I will be greeting  my own Jolly Green Giant. I don't know what is in our water, but according to the pencil marks that adorn our basement door, displaying height marks etched for the past 10 years, we should maybe switch to milk. Something to stop this madness!  

I learned the hard way that the side effects of said sudden growth spurts should be monitored with a close eye...because in 2010 I failed in that department. Not once, but TWICE! I sure hope that I don't repeat this in 2011, and I am sure that my son feels the same way.

And here is why:

Lesson One: The Band Concert

My Husband had been traveling quite a bit and I had started a new job. Time was tight when it came to after-school activities and trying to be two places at once. Well, not at once, but pretty darn close to it. Trying to get the household accustomed to the new schedule, I tried my best to arrange our time and places and honestly what I came up with worked well....on paper at least. On this particular day, our son had a band concert and our daughter a track meet. To make sure that my master timing plan would go off without a hitch, I asked our son to lay out his clothes the night before so that I could just grab-n-go that morning on my way to work. So, our late afternoon/evening would run as such:
- Pick up our son a little early from school (which lets out later than our daughter's)
-Meet dad (who just arrived from the airport) at the track meet.
-Cheer on sis
-After meet, dad and sis run to Panera to pick up dinner and meet us back in school cafeteria.
-Between the track and cafeteria, son to do his best superhero and change in the back of the car.
-Have dinner in cafeteria
-Because of being in school already, son is early for pre-prep concert rehearsal.
-Dad, sis and I get seats in the auditorium, affording prime waving and picture taking spots in audience.

Smooth like clockwork....until there was a glitch in the system.

As our son was getting ready in the car, he said:

S: "Mom. You grabbed the wrong clothes!"
M: "What do you mean I grabbed the wrong clothes? I grabbed what was on your bed."
S: "Well, then you grabbed the wrong shirt!"
M: "There was only one set of clothes on the bed."

With that, I looked in the back seat to a kid a shirt size, maybe two, too small. The sleeves barely making it to mid-forearm length!

M: "What the heck?! That is the same shirt you wore to the Christmas concert only a few months ago!"
S: "Can we please go get a new one?"
M: "No. We don't have time. You will have to roll up your sleeves."
S: "I don't want to wear it like that! It will look stupid!"
M: "You CAN'T wear it like that! You are going to have to roll them."

Not only were the sleeves too short, but the shirt was just able to stay buttoned. If he held his breath he would be just fine. How is that going to be possible? He has to play a wind instrument!

It felt like our own twisted version of A Christmas Story...don't breathe or else you will shoot someone's eye out (with popping buttons!)! Should I warn the first row?

Bad Mother of the Year!

Lesson Two: Sneakers

After said band concert, you would think that I would take inventory of any other piece of clothing that may have gotten too small. Nope. Never even crossed my mind.

Fast forward to the last week of school.

S: "Mom. I need new sneakers."
M: "OK. Since it's the last week of school, can we wait til Friday and we can go then?"
S: "Sure. No problem. Thanks Mom."

Friday rolls around and when I got home from work, off to the mall we went to look for new shoes.

We looked through every style that donned the shelves. Finally, my son found a pair he liked and tried them on.

S: "Ahhhhh. Oh, man, these feel GREAT. Soooooo much better. I can move my toes again."
M: "Oh, good. Wait. What do you mean 'you can move your toes again?' What size are they?"

He hands me the box and on his now happy feet are size 11. I grab the tattered shoe that is lying on its side and see on the back of the tongue that is is a size 9. NINE????!!!! His toes must have been folded in half!

M: "Oh my goodness! WHY didn't you tell me BEFORE that these were so small?! How long have they been like this?"
S: Shrugs shoulders. "I dunno."

Another nomination for Bad Mother of the Year! Please don't let these mommy faux-pas repeat themselves again this year! I think I have learned my lesson!

My son can only hope.

How Would You Live Out Your Last Days?

Today's post was inspired by Mama Kat's Writing Workshop. One was to choose a single word: angsty, excruciating, enchanted, bold, simple, and write a post around that word. The following post was already started yet felt that each word given in the prompt was important to highlight.

How Would You Live Out Your Last Days?
Angst

I’ve been thinking about this question over and over in my head this past week. Sometimes my answer is angsty realizing I would not have enough time to do all that I still want to do in my life. Other times the answer is more light-hearted, telling myself that I would make damn sure I tried every single flavor of ice cream.

Excruciating

Many of you have read my post Livestrong, Baby! where I mention my husband being diagnosed with cancer. It is mentioned briefly, because I didn't want to write too much about my feelings of this disease. It can be excruciating at times for me to go there and share. Did I fear losing my best friend? Yes. Did I cry in the shower? Every. Day. Did I pull off to the side of the road to cry before coming home to the kids? Yes. Do I get a pit in my stomach with each follow up visit, even now, almost 5 years later? You bet. Do I snuggle a little more and make sure I say “I love you” every day? Yes and Yes.

Imagine your 18 year old child, fearing having appendicitis, only to learn that they are suffering from Burkitts Lymphoma, one of the most aggressive forms of cancer. You help them fight the good fight and think it’s in remission, only to have it rear its ugly head a month later. It’s back with a vengeance, growing double in size throughout your child’s body every 12 hours. The doctors prepare your whole family with the news that you only have a week, maybe two, left to spend together. This is the life of a local young man and his family who are in the battle trenches this very minute. I listen to updates on the radio station each morning; choking back tears as the DJ’s, themselves, try their best to keep it together as they share his story. He celebrated an early Christmas with his family last week, not knowing if he would make it through the weekend.

Life gets put into a finite beam of perspective that you never thought possible when given this news.

Enchanted

The best part of this family’s Christmas celebration: the day was, in fact, enchanted. This young man was not sure he could muster the strength to share this special time with his family; yet as the day progressed, he found for a short two-hour window, he forgot that he had cancer.

Another place that can have that effect for a family, to forget for just a while that their loved one is seriously ill, is the Ronald McDonald House. My cousin spent months in Baltimore, MD at Johns Hopkins fighting and overcoming leukemia and a bone marrow transplant. The RMH was a place for my Aunt and Uncle to feel home-away-from home and to find, as well as offer support with other families going through the same struggles. When contacting my local RMH, I had no idea that they had a Wish List , full of every day items such as food, cleaning items and even gift cards. Please check out your local RMH and see how you can help offer a hand to those who really need it.

Bold

While in the middle of preparing this post, more sad news crossed the wire. Elizabeth Edwards passed away at the age of 61.

I applaud Elizabeth for making the bold decision to tell cancer to go fuck itself; she was going to die the way she wanted, not be dictated to by how the disease wanted to take her.

“In a message posted on her Facebook page, Elizabeth Edwards addressed her family and friends:

"The days of our lives, for all of us, are numbered. We know that. And, yes, there are certainly times when we aren't able to muster as much strength and patience as we would like. It's called being human," she wrote.

"But I have found that in the simple act of living with hope, and in the daily effort to have a positive impact in the world, the days I do have are made all the more meaningful and precious. And for that I am grateful. It isn't possible to put into words the love and gratitude I feel to everyone who has and continues to support and inspire me every day. To you I simply say: you know." –excerpt from CNN.com

I’m glad she had the chance to tell her family and friends good-bye, in her own way.

Simple

I know this is a heavy topic for today, but sometimes life whispers to you in a small way to make sure you pay attention to the important things in your life. You find that it is the simple things that you want to remember: the feel of sand between your toes, a snowflake on your nose, the smell of your child’s hair, an embrace of a friend or loved one, to view a sunrise or sunset, or it could be as simple as savoring every flavor of ice cream.

How would I live out my last days?

I would hope that I have the opportunity to surround myself with those I love, laugh as much as possible and know that I have lived the best life I could possibly live.

I pose that same question to you: 

How would you live out your last days?

Now, get out there and live. Carpe Diem!


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A Time I Fell Down

I am sharing this post as part of MamaKats Writing Workshop..the prompt: A time I fell down.

Happy Thanksgiving! :) 

I promised this morning that I would have another post tonight sharing my weekend, but something happened today that had me cracking up ...at myself! If you saw it, you would have certainly been laughing AT me and I would not have blamed you one bit.

As I mentioned, today was my first day of my new job. It's a nice little job that I am very excited about. I was so nervous about making a good impression, that I did not sleep a wink last night and let me tell you, the alarm sounded much, much earlier than I wanted.

After sorting out a few things and having a few gulps of much needed coffee,  I got settled at my new desk and then it happened. I felt like I was in a re-run of the "I Love Lucy Show" only, I was not Lucy.

                                   I was her stand in.

I can hear the director now...

"Ok.  Lucy, I want you to reach over the arm rest of your chair, down into that tote bag and try to grab the bottle of water that is just out of your reach. Good. CUT! Bring in the stunt double...."

Then it is me in the chair and in the next instant, the chair tips, wheels fly out to the side, my feet and the legs of the chair are above my head and I am crashing onto the ground. "CUT! Bring Lucy back in!"

 

Lucy = "Whaaaaaaaaa! Riiiiiiiiiicckkkyyy!!!"

Me = "Ouch! Bpffffftttttttttt....hhahahahahaha!"

That's is correct. I literally fell out of my chair!

I am so glad nobody saw it happen because I would never have lived that one down!

I'm sure that my neighbor in the next office has no clue that there is a comic genius in the works, mere feet away. I'll keep that gem for months from now when I can say "Did I ever tell you what happened on my first day?"

For now, I am finishing my tea and grabbing the heating pad for my sore back.

*In my best Troy McClure voice*: "I'm not a stunt double, but I once played one in an office...you may have seen me in "Musical Chairs For Dummies" or "Stop, Drop and Roll, an Office Worker's Nightmare".

Not to worry stunt doubles, I'm going to keep my day job.