Flip a Coin

I had this dream yesterday... It was kinda jumbled and weird as dreams tend to be (mine are, at least), but there is one part that keeps replaying in my head. It was rather insightful, as dreams tend to be (especially mine, *wink*).  In the dream, Hubs and I stopped at a random bar and grille. Halfway through the meal he stands up and calls the attention of the servers, bar tenders and the few patrons sitting nearby. Then he starts talking all this inspirational stuff (sorry, Hun, I can’t remember the specifics, but the group seemed to like it). At the end he tosses a quarter to me and announces that I, too, have a quick sound bite for them.

Here’s what it was:

I flipped the coin into the air and told the bartender to guess “heads or tails”. I go on to explain that there was a fifty-fifty chance that he was right. That part was out of my control – left up to God/the Universe/What-have-you. Still, I was in charge of throwing the coin in the first place. So it’s like this: we have our part to play and so does the Cosmos. The point is to know your role and give it your best shot, but just as importantly, don’t confuse what you’re supposed to do and what is up to God.

Of course, it was just a dream, so ya know…  *smirk* 

Un, Tuuuu, Teeeeeeee!

I hear this phrase approximately 126 times a day: “Un, tuuuuu, teeeeeeee!” (Translation = One, two, three!) That “teeee” part is exceptionally high-pitched.

Gavin likes to say this right before he jumps off of the couch… or the kitchen table…or the bar stool… or whatever location he has managed to climb onto before I reach him. When I’m in bed, his favorite way to rouse me is to quietly climb onto the opposite side of where I’m sleeping and dramatically flop onto my stomach.  Of course, I can’t complain because he always gives me a fair warning – you know, a softly whispered, “Un, tuuu, teeeeee!”

Not that I’m getting any special treatment from him or anything. Because, trust me, if you are a visitor at our place – let’s say you’re cozy on the couch watching television – he’ll happily scurry onto the arm of the couch and lunge toward your head, just to make you feel welcome. Furthermore, in an effort to show off, he might even ascend a few shelves on the bookcase, grab an armful of books and dive dramatically back to the carpet to deliver them. If you’re really lucky, while you’re standing in the middle of the living room playing the Wii he will drag his clothes hamper into the room, climb on it and dive toward you – promptly knocking you on your arse and causing you to ruin any chances of winning the game. Of course he never does any of this without first voicing his slogan of “Un, tuuuu, teeee!”

This activity is not limited to our home only, if you were wondering. Getting from my car and across the parking lot to the library is usually a series of squats, un-tu-teees and leaping. (Hmmm, I really hope you can get that image in your head.) If I’m at your house and place my purse on a counter, he might manage to scale that particular counter – so that he may rummage through the contents and then pass out tampons to everyone.

After a church service, I’m usually given the same report by whoever is managing the class that day. “Gavin is so well-behaved. He is friendly and always shares the toys. (pause) There is one thing… he likes to, um, climb things… uh, not just the play sets we have for that purpose but other things such as the windowsill and the snack table…”

I like to smile and respond, “Isn’t it awesome that he’s learning to count already?”

Yes, my child is engaging in rather dangerous activity and requires intense supervision, but with the attitude he’s got, I’m excited about his future. There’s something to be learned from the lil daredevil. Sometimes you’ve just got to jump in spite of the risk… even better if you can enjoy the thrill.

Everybody now: Un, tuuu, teeeeee... 

Be Fair to WORDS

Grrrr. I hate it when someone says something like “Words could never express…”

Dude, you’re seriously not giving Words enough credit, and it’s never fun to be underappreciated. Words works hard. Words has spent hundreds – thousands – of years developing and strengthening, translating, morphing, dividing and multiplying, engaging, entertaining, directing, emoting, guiding, representing and… well, that list just keeps going. How dare you tell Words it can’t do something!

Maybe that’s the reason not everyone is cut out to be a writer. Because, I have to tell you, to be a writer you have to respect Words, you have to believe in Words. Sometimes that means a lot of time spent rephrasing, tweaking and rethinking. It’s worth it though, because Words will not let you down. I repeat, Words will not fail you.

“Words can’t describe how…”

ICK!! Phrases like that are not romantic or endearing – they are lazy! Sure, some situations and feelings are harder to communicate than others but that makes them a challenge - not an impossibility. I keep getting that image of a needle in a haystack. Would it be difficult to find said needle? Of course. But with consistent effort and patience, it can be done.

So please, rethink and rephrase if you must. Just be fair to Words. 

But I Really, Reallllly Want It...

Recently I took Gavin to this gorgeous little park area to hear Hubby’s band and I was delighted to have all that space for the kid to run around. But five seconds into it and the little dude has uncovered some cord linked to a nearby light post. What the hell? It’s the same type of thing at home. If I bring out his blocks, books, cars and noisemakers to distract him while I clean, within minutes he’ll be unlocking the dishwasher and pulling out knives to “play with”. How does he have this sixth sense to find the one thing in a room that he’s not supposed to mess with? More so, since he has this sixth sense why doesn’t he use it to stay away from the hazardous things instead of being drawn to them?

The thing is, Mommy still has this habit too. And I’m guessing that when you see a sign that says “please use other door” you still instinctively see if that door will open. Same thing with a “wet paint” or “wet floor” sign. You just have to test it. This is why diets are such a struggle. The moment you tell yourself something is off limits, the craving becomes uncontrollable. Thanks to my metabolism I’ve never been much of a dieter… but let’s just say I have quite the attachment to Dr. Pepper. (I’m averaging only one a day which is incredible. Ok, two, dang it.)

Once I had this crazy unexpected attraction to a guy. A strong attraction. I was convinced that because what I felt was so strong, there was no way it could be one-sided. The two of us were like magnets, irrevocably drawn to one another. Turns out he was the magnet and I was just… a paperclip. One of many paperclips. And some of those other paperclips were much shinier. Ouch.

So now I’m still wondering: I was genuinely surprised by my sudden attraction to this guy, but was my attraction to him genuine? Or did I subconsciously figure out that I could never have him and thus my attraction was born? I really like to think that if the feelings had been mutual, that we would have had an enjoyable relationship, but maybe I would have been turned off the moment he said he liked me too. I guess I’ll never get to know.

Alas, I’ve still learned something. Yes, it is good to want what you have – a grateful heart will take you a long ways. But it’s also natural – and good – to want what you can’t have. Why? Because it’s that hunger that pushes you for a better life… it’s that drive that makes humanity evolve.

Once upon a time, if you were a woman you couldn’t have an education. Well look at me, I’ve got my very own blog – based upon my ability to read and write, and the encouragement I’ve been given my whole life to think and dream.

There are so many diseases and world problems that will not be solved in our lifetime, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t chase those cures and solutions. Because what we learn and do accomplish in our lifetime enables the next generation to go one step further until inevitably the world really is a better/healthier place. Look how far we’ve come, imagine how far we will go. It’s all because we continue to want something that we’re told we can’t have. 

Are You Breathing?

"This relationship is dead." Someone said that to me once. And it hurt. I mean it stung. But I couldn't argue. In that moment I wasn’t even taken by surprise, because the truth was of course it was dead – I had been holding my breath during the entire relationship. Extended time without oxygen and things tend to cease existence.

I held my breath because I was terrified of being a disappointment, horrified that once a few of my less-than-flattering character traits made an appearance I would be abandoned. Or worse – that my presence would become tolerated but not wanted.

In the end though, it wasn’t the fact that I’m imperfect (shocking, right?) that pushed him away. It was the fact that I couldn’t just be myself… I couldn’t just breathe around him.

Why did I struggle with this? What was that fear that if I showed a little freaking humanity I’d no longer be worthy of love? I think it goes back to Sunday school where I was informed that I had to earn God’s love by being on my best behavior. You know, get good grades in school and no more painting my brother’s nails hot pink while he was sleeping. (I ended up the valedictorian of my class, but admittedly I’m still mean to my sibling on occasion…)

Whatever the reasoning, I’d like to ask – Are YOU breathing? Are you comfortable being yourself, your true natural self? I don’t just mean in your romantic relationships… I mean when you’re in the company of friends or family, when you’re surrounded by strangers... when you're alone?

I’m telling you, there is definitely something to this breathing thing. That’s why there’s a lot of focus on it during meditations, it’s a huge part of the birthing process, and it plays a significant role in any exercise or sport. Speaking of… Let’s take it to the bedroom. “Talking dirty” might get awkward but a little heavy panting… Now that’s a turn on every time.

Maybe I am the only one who’s been holding her breath, but let me tell you what I’ve learned. It’s better to breathe and risk rejection than to… um, suffocate. 

I Love Me, I Love Me Not

I’ve been guilty of pulling apart a flower in hopes of discovering whether or not the guy I liked was also crushing on me. Can’t say that it was a very accurate process, yet it’s a practice I haven’t outgrown. I’m no longer sacrificing Mother Nature’s creations but I find myself in the same pattern… Allowing rather irrelevant things determine my self-worth…

Petal number one: I wake up to a world of possibilities, feeling like there’s plenty of time to get a lot accomplished. Bonus, coffee is already made. Thanks, Hubs! Today, I’m going to teach my 19-month-old son Gavin the alphabet and start potty training him. I’m going to make tasty but healthy meals, send out a witty letter to a few literary agents, pay the bills, clean the house, and find time to read on the patio. I love life, I love me.

Petal number two: It’s already lunchtime and somehow I still have half a cup of coffee left. To microwave or not to microwave? Gavin picks up the letter A block and proclaims “Aaay!” …Only to pick up the letter S block and do the same thing. I discover training pants are a lot harder to clean up than regular diapers and now there’s a mysterious wet spot on my carpet. Exactly when does urine become unsterile? It feels like such a waste of time to cook for just two people when I’m already behind on my to-do list. Especially when one of us is dancing around demanding  “Ogdog! Ogdog!” (Translation = hotdog). Life is a lot of work and I can’t keep up; I love me not.

Petal number three: I trade out my cold coffee for a cold Dr. Pepper and the world is instantly a delightful place again. Gavin is down for a nap, which gives me time to finally tackle that to-do list. I’m a multi-tasker, this should be easy enough. Within fifteen minutes, I’ll have done the dishes and started laundry and vacuumed. While I eat lunch, I’ll pay the bills and contact those literary agents. And the weather is just gorgeous today – sunny but breezy – so off to the patio to get stuff done! Life if beautiful; I love me.

Petal number four: Apparently, mosquitoes like sunny/breezy weather too as evidenced by my itchy skin. I’m in a habit of drinking entirely too much Dr. Pepper; I should be drinking more water. At what point did I think that paying bills would be uplifting? And why the $%&* should I bother sending out more letters when so far every literary agent has responded the same way? “Dear Ms. Scott, while your novel certainly has merit, unfortunately I’m not the right person to represent you… I hope you continue searching until you find the right match… blah blah blah.” Oh, is that Gavin I hear knocking on his bedroom wall? Awake already?? If I was smart I would have taken a nap with him. But apparently I’m neither smart nor successful. Life sucks; I love me not.

Petal number five: I have the most adorable, smartest kid ever. He crawls into my lap, “Mama, hug.” He loves me, he realllly loves me. I love life; I love me.

I Love Me, I Love Me Not

I’ve been guilty of pulling apart a flower in hopes of discovering whether or not the guy I liked was also crushing on me. Can’t say that it was a very accurate process, yet it’s a practice I haven’t outgrown. I’m no longer sacrificing Mother Nature’s creations but I find myself in the same pattern… Allowing rather irrelevant things determine my self-worth…

Petal number one: I wake up to a world of possibilities, feeling like there’s plenty of time to get a lot accomplished. Bonus, coffee is already made. Thanks, Hubs! Today, I’m going to teach my 19-month-old son Gavin the alphabet and start potty training him. I’m going to make tasty but healthy meals, send out a witty letter to a few literary agents, pay the bills, clean the house, and find time to read on the patio. I love life, I love me.

Petal number two: It’s already lunchtime and somehow I still have half a cup of coffee left. To microwave or not to microwave? Gavin picks up the letter A block and proclaims “Aaay!” …Only to pick up the letter S block and do the same thing. I discover training pants are a lot harder to clean up than regular diapers and now there’s a mysterious wet spot on my carpet. Exactly when does urine become unsterile? It feels like such a waste of time to cook for just two people when I’m already behind on my to-do list. Especially when one of us is dancing around demanding  “Ogdog! Ogdog!” (Translation = hotdog). Life is a lot of work and I can’t keep up; I love me not.

Petal number three: I trade out my cold coffee for a cold Dr. Pepper and the world is instantly a delightful place again. Gavin is down for a nap, which gives me time to finally tackle that to-do list. I’m a multi-tasker, this should be easy enough. Within fifteen minutes, I’ll have done the dishes and started laundry and vacuumed. While I eat lunch, I’ll pay the bills and contact those literary agents. And the weather is just gorgeous today – sunny but breezy – so off to the patio to get stuff done! Life if beautiful; I love me.

Petal number four: Apparently, mosquitoes like sunny/breezy weather too as evidenced by my itchy skin. I’m in a habit of drinking entirely too much Dr. Pepper; I should be drinking more water. At what point did I think that paying bills would be uplifting? And why the $%&* should I bother sending out more letters when so far every literary agent has responded the same way? “Dear Ms. Scott, while your novel certainly has merit, unfortunately I’m not the right person to represent you… I hope you continue searching until you find the right match… blah blah blah.” Oh, is that Gavin I hear knocking on his bedroom wall? Awake already?? If I was smart I would have taken a nap with him. But apparently I’m neither smart nor successful. Life sucks; I love me not.

Petal number five: I have the most adorable, smartest kid ever. He crawls into my lap, “Mama, hug.” He loves me, he realllly loves me. I love life; I love me.