Posts Tagged With: Family

Can’t Buy Me Love, and Yet, All You Need Is Love? Lucky Me

Posted on February 12, 2013 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! Today I am thankful for love. I know it sounds sappy, but give me a chance to explain.

I’m grateful for unconditional love from my parents, MSH, my kids, and my extended family. I know that no matter how big I goof up, how whiney I get, how unreliable and messy my life is, they are still going to provide me with with love, acceptance and understanding. Even if they don’t understand, they’ll jump that bridge and love me anyway. I’ve been rescued, resuscitated, healed, helped, snuggled, succored, cared for and cuddled by these people in ways only family can offer. What more could I ask for?

And yet there is more love in my life!

LOVE Sculpture, JFK Plaza

LOVE Sculpture by Robert Indiana, JFK Plaza (Photo credit: euthman)

Shared experiences with a few people have created a love that’s definitely not romance, stronger than friendship and distinct from familial love. I’m not sure there is a word for it. A spiritual connection? It’s an understanding or an emotion that requires no words and no actions. It just is. Does that make sense? Like any rare substance, these precious few relationships are priceless and guarded carefully. Surely there’s a word for this kind of love, but I’ve yet to hear or read it. I may have to invent it.

And More!!

I’m grateful for the quirky love of friendship. Each relationship I have is different, some are easy, some are not, but all involve love and persistence and concern. I have friends I can count on for a hug. Some friends I know will keep me humble with humor and sarcasm. And others see the good in me that no mirror I own ever allows me to see in myself. I can even lay open my heart to some with complete trust and no judgment. Those who trust me in the same way amaze me and instill a desire to try harder, be better and be worthy of that trust.

Wow!

I’m thankful that so many people have given me the opportunity to get to know and love them. Thinking about all the love in my life is like stumbling on a treasure trove, chests overflowing with diamonds and gems and silver and gold. I can’t imagine feeling any richer than I do now. Love surely makes my world keep spinning, floats my boat, keeps me grounded, fills my days, lights up my dark times, and creates joy.

Yes, I’m definitely grateful for love.

 

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Love | Tags: , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

The Power of Family

Posted on December 31, 2012 by Kami

The power of Family swirls around me. You can’t argue with the simple evocative strength of the word Mother, Father, Son, Daughter, Brother, Sister, Cousin, Aunt, Uncle, Grandmother, Grandfather, Grandchild, Husband, Wife, Niece, Nephew.

As strong as the ties of friendship might encircle and bind, they cannot entirely compete with the strength and veracity of Family. Maybe they aren’t supposed to compete.  Maybe they are supposed to complement.

If you doubt what I say, then attend a funeral of someone whose life touched thousands.  There are a select few who warrant inclusion in that sacred circle of Family ties, but only a few.  The rest are inherently barely outside the circle, pressing in with love, support, tears, memories.

There are many family like relationships out there.  I am called Auntie or Sister by those I have shared incredible life-changing experiences with. But does that make me Family?  It feels like family, it tastes like family, the hugs mimic family hugs; perhaps sometimes even exceed them in emotion.  But it isn’t Family.

Big “F” little “f”

Maybe the distinction is merely semantic or the difference between Family with a capital “F” and family with a small “f.”

Or is it all about legality and blood lines?  I have no idea.

I do know that I want my Family to know I love them.  I want my Family to know that those connections include a willingness to sacrifice for them.  They come first.  They are the why behind everything. I draw strength from the collective power of the love they have for me.  I count on their unconditional acceptance.  I am who I am in large measure because of their influence in my life, present or distant.  They are foundational and firm and forever.

Schorn Log Cabin, ca. 1700, with the cemetery ...

Schorn Log Cabin, ca. 1700, with the cemetery in between the cabin and church (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What about that second circle that surrounds me, my family of friends?  They are included in my willingness to sacrifice.  In fact, it’s that sacrificial nature of those relationships that has made them feel unbreakable.  Their losses are my losses.  My losses, and I’m sure of this, are their losses.  They are family in ways my blood kin are not, in different ways, like chinking between logs in a cabin, or shingles on a sturdy roof.

Both kinds of family feel necessary.  Both house and clothe me in safety, love, reassurance, gentleness and kindness.

To be the recipient of both Family and family is a rare and opulent gift of surpassing beauty.  I hope never to squander such richness.  I hope I can share it, one on one. One heart, one tear, one smile, one hug at a time.

My New Year’s Wish would be that such circles include more people that feel outside of one or both. Does that sound unrealistic?  I don’t think so.  If one person this next year feels more loved, safer, cared for, part of something bigger, because I reached out and pulled them into my Family or family circle then their world and mine improves, lightens and grows.  Would you join in with me in reaching out, including, caring, loving?  Just one person. That’s all it takes.

Categories: Family, Love, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The Year of Three Christmas Letters

Posted on December 22, 2012 by Kami

We wrote three Family Christmas letters one year.

Version One:

christmas card outtakes 2007- choke hold

christmas card outtakes 2007- choke hold (Photo credit: Nikki McLeod)

The reality check, went something like this:

Pretty much our life hit rock bottom this year.  It’s been filled to brim with financial setbacks galore, unemployment, minimum wage jobs for the grown ups, multiple visits with various government workers, lots of paperwork, mechanical failures of every kind, mental health issues, surgeries, poor health, teenage angst and rebellion out the wazoo, junior high drama.  You name it, we’ve experienced it.  It’s a wonder we’re all still sane.  Hope your family is having a better year than we are.  Merry Christmas!

Version Two:

The rated G for too-good-to-be-true version, went something like this:

Just wanted to update you on our family’s stellar year!  Dad has had plenty of time to work on projects around the house, mom is busy expanding her résumé! We’ve added doctors and lawyers to our list of close acquaintances!  Each of the children have increased their knowledge base with new experiences and fun and exciting people!  Time just seems to race by with all that we have going on!  What a year!!!!!!!!!!!  Here’s hoping you’re family is as wonderful and great as ours!  Happy Holidays!!!!!!

Version Three:

A kind of tightrope act between the first two letters, went like this:

Thought we’d let you know what’s happening in our neck of the woods.  It hasn’t been a very good year for us, but we’re making the best of it. Mom has gone back out into the workforce and so us kids have had to step up a bit and help out more.  Dad’s been looking for work for a while. It hasn’t been easy, but we’re learning a lot. We could use some extra prayers if you’re the praying sort.  We surely do pray for and love you and your family.  We feel blessed to know you.  Here’s to a Happy New Year for all of us!

christmas card

christmas card (Photo credit: Stephen Rees)

I can’t remember if we actually mailed any letters out at all. I don’t think we did. Couldn’t afford the stamps, or ran out of time. It was pretty hilarious writing them all, kind of healing to laugh at the pain.

Maybe it was our way of dealing with all the letters we received that made our toes curl with jealousy or irritated us with their rose-colored glasses perspective. Or maybe it was a reaction to the view that everyone else has a perfect life, a perfect family, a perfectly normal kind of constant happiness. We knew that wasn’t true, but it can feel that way when your life has gone south.

Sometimes laughter really is the only way to treat life’s headaches.

p.s. The preceding events may have been altered or fictionalized or embellished for brevity as well as sanity.

p.p.s. If you send out Family Christmas letters, please keep doing so, we love hearing about your family, warts and awards and all!

p.p.p.s.  Merry Christmas!

Categories: Family, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

What Not to Say: Six Useless Phrases

Posted on November 8, 2012 by Kami
Dog Hat / Space Coast Florida

(Photo credit: Rusty Clark)

Stress does something to the words that sometimes escape through our lips.  One of the most stressful experiences I’ve ever encountered is parenting, from both sides of the aisle. You gotta admit, parents say some ridiculous things at times.  In the interest of full disclosure, I’m pretty sure I’ve said most of these things at least once if not more.

“Don’t make me pull this car over!”

To a kid fully embroiled in “he touched me” argument strapped into the back seat of the car, this statement is just so much flotsam whizzing past the window.  What the parent really means to say is, “If I hear the two of you whine or argue one more word I’m going to lose my mind.”  A threat to stop the car feels more powerful, but is really a losing proposition.  You can’t really leave the kids on the side of the road, as tempting as it sound.  And pulling over is only helpful if you can stomp into the woods alone, let loose a few guttural primal screams, kick some really big trees and hurl some large boulders down the side of a cliff.  Then you’d be able to return to the car and continue to your destination safely and with less insanity boiling over.

“This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”

Actually this one has some truth to it if the punishment is grounding.  Taking away a child’s ability to leave the house, or do regular activities, leaves the parent still dealing with the kid days or weeks or months after the infraction.  For some parents, enforcing rules is a painful process as it ruins their popularity standing with their kids.  Who wants the moniker of the no-fun parent?  You do, if you want to emerge from the parenting experience with your sanity intact. Repeat after me: Parenting is not a popularity contest.

“I’ll give you something to cry about!”

Crying is not an inappropriate behavior.  It’s a weird form of communication that very few people have been able to translate correctly.  Sure crying is annoying sometimes, and can interrupt your day, and might even go on for hours. Getting angry about it, threatening more reasons for tears is really counter productive.  You might want to reconsider before letting this one slip through your lips.  I know, I know, it’s an instinctive reaction based on years and years of hearing your own parents say those exact same words. Fight the urge, be creative, invent a new phrase your children can mock you with in thirty years.

“If your friends jumped off a cliff would you jump too?”

Most kids would answer with a resounding “Oh, yeah, baby!” Whatever their friends are doing is always more fun than anything else you could dangle in front of them.  Even if it’s taking out the garbage at their friend’s house.  The point is to be with the friend, always, forever, no matter what.

“What were you thinking?”

They weren’t thinking.  They were rolling on pure emotion, acting on impulse, going with the flow, riding the wave of adrenaline, sucked into the vortex of peer pressure, rocketing through the wormhole of hormones.  (See cliff jumping above.) Logic doesn’t really enter into the equation.  Actually, there really isn’t an equation other than the following: “I want it = I get it.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me out for ice cream, drive me and my friends to the mall, do my chores for me.”  I’m certain most children have plenty of ready answers to that question.  I have heard of the exceptional child with the ability to think up appropriate consequences for an inappropriate behavior, but that is a rare and gifted child with blessed parents.  The whole balancing act of crime and punishment is resting squarely on the shoulders of the grownup.  Sorry to be the one to break that to you.

Brave Souls, Intrepid Warriors

It’s a brave soul who takes on parenting. No owner’s manual, no instruction booklet, lots of well-meaning and misguided advice dispensed freely. Here’s my “two cents worth.”

Hang in there.  Laugh as much as possible.  Hug that kid every chance you get. And never, never, ever give up.

Categories: Humor, parenting | Tags: , , , | 6 Comments

Twenty Years From Now: A Letter to Myself

Posted on November 3, 2012 by Kami

Dear Me,

I’m writing this letter to you today to let you know how far you have come in the past twenty years.  I know at this point in your life you’ll be looking back and flailing yourself with all your perceived shortcomings, missed opportunities, poor choices and heartaches.

Knowing this about you, I’m writing to remind you that you made two decisions that impacted your life and have made you the person you are. I’m certain you haven’t forgotten those decisions, because they shaped you in ways no other choices could have done.  To clarify and to help you feel better about where you’re at right now, I’m writing to remind you that these were your conscious choices.  You knew, at least to a small degree, what direction choosing such things would require.

The sacrifices have been worth it.  Whatever fell to the sidelines, whatever was left undone was as it needed to be.  It was part of the design you set for yourself when you put your feet on this path you now find yourself on.

The first decision you made was to choose people over things.

One of my favorite people!

Do you remember when you made that decision?  Probably not, it was a process, not a one-time thing.  You had found, through helping a few people along the way, in spite of how busy you were as a young mom, as a mom with teens, as a working mom, that reaching out and helping someone, even at the cost of something you wanted, was always the better choice.  The relief on another’s face was a balm in your own wounds.  The joy in a child’s eyes reflected back into your eyes.  The time sacrificed, again and again, always felt like the best expenditure of that time.

You were honest with yourself about the sacrifices that decision required.  Sometimes they hurt.  Sometimes giving was the last thing you wanted to do, but it had become who you were.  The tricky part, do you remember, was finding that tipping point when it was time to regroup, fill your bucket, shore up your own reserves, care for your tender worn spots, so that you could once again care for others.

That balance was not an easy thing to maintain.  The pendulum often swung wide to either side, excessive  giving to others, or a kind of self-indulgent, inward cocooning.  But you have worked at achieving a rhythm to your giving, your sharing, your service, and your self-care.  Now you can look back on your life of generosity and selflessness.  You should feel a sense of, not pride, no, not that, but of integrity.  You stuck to your decision to choose people first.

The other life decision you made seemed almost contradictory to the first one.  But, by time you read this letter, you will have made the two into proper companions, a perfect marriage of ideals. This decision, too, required sacrifices.  You set aside a sense of security and safety for a life of openness and sharing and of uncertainty.

the written word

the written word (Photo credit: paloetic)

You chose words.

That was a very deliberate decision on a very specific day.  You decided to honor that spark of creativity, intelligence and joy that burned so bright from your early childhood.

You chose to be the writer you wanted to be.  You chose words as your paint, words as your clay, words as your film, words as your musical notes.  Words gave life to all you saw, thought, felt, and experienced. Then you shared those precious words in as many ways as you could think of.

The people you loved will have known to their very bones, that you loved them.  You will have shown it, you will have said it.

Actions and words showed the world and yourself who you are and were.  Feel secure and sure in the way you have used your life.  It was well spent.

Regrets?  You probably have many.  But not about these two decisions.

People.

Words.

The best choices you ever made.

All my love,

Me

Categories: Relationships, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The Good, The Bad, The Not So Pretty of Parenting Moments

Posted on October 27, 2012 by Kami

The statute of limitations has expired on this one, so I think I can safely share this story with you.  Why I am sharing a moment of weakness is beyond me.  I must be tired this morning.

At the time this story occurred, time, repetition and lack of forward motion worked against me.  Keep those three points in mind. Also, please note that I am normally a calm, well behaved citizen.

Also, it had probably been a more stressful morning than usual.  What could have caused additional stress at our house at that point in time could have been one of hundreds of things. It was probably several dozen of a hundred that put me in a dither that morning.

Why do I feel like I’m presenting testimony in a court hearing? Enough!  On with the story.

My daughter  who shall remain nameless, was needing a ride to school.  Fine.  We’d done that countless times.  This particular day she or I, let’s just say we to simplify things, were running a bit late.  But, if we didn’t have to stop for too many long red lights she’d still make it to class on time.

Arriving on the school property I slowed to the requisite 8 mph.  A sigh of exasperation crossed my lips as I saw them.  The dreaded orange cones.

It was encouraging 0603100930

I hated the stupid orange cones.  We called them the orange cones of death.  Why?  The cones were school security’s way of directing traffic the way THEY thought it should flow.  I’m sure if you have hundreds, nay, thousands, of parents driving whichever direction they wanted whilst dropping off their beloved offspring for a day of molding and shaping their ever eager minds, it could become a traffic jam of epic proportions.  I understand that.  I really do.  So I would dutifully follow the path of least resistance that occurred by following the orange cones.

The flow of traffic, however, made little sense to the sleep deprived parental mind when there remained only 2 minutes until the tardy bell rang.  Looping all the way around the parking lot, over countless speed bumps designed to destroy what little alignment remained in the car was a waste of precious time and sanity. What made the traffic flow even more ridiculous was that the drop off point was a mere twenty feet away  from where the orange cones of death began their path.  A simple, quick left turn would allow a nearly immediate drop off with minutes to spare.  That would free up time for the child to amble off to class, helping little old ladies across the hallway, shaking hands respectfully with the principal and offering to carry a heavy box for a teacher, if she so desired.

A quick left hand turn would ease the stress of certain parents, would improve the morning race to get everyone out the door, and would, in fact, lend itself to beginnings of world peace.  A quick left hand turn would be logical and there was little logic in this traffic pattern which required a circuitous route.

I might add here that there were very few cars driving this gauntlet of ridiculousness with only a couple of minutes until classes started.  The parking lot was nearly void of moving cars, there were virtually no students in the area, and the security golf cart guys were off having their morning laugh together.

Normally I would simply resign myself to the fate of another bumpy slog over the river and through the woods of the parking lot to drop of said child at the doors to the halls of learning.

That would be a normal reaction.

This particular day was not normal.  (Reference the above one hundred or more reasons for stress.)

This one morning of many something in me snapped.

“Stupid! Orange! Cones!” I yelled.  “Not today!”

I raced my engine up to 12 mph and turned the wheels sharply to the left and simply drove over the stupid orange cones.

Yes, this was in full sight of the front office.

I didn’t care.

I felt triumphant.

I felt victorious.

I had stuck it to the man.

I felt a little embarrassed.

“There ya’ go, my love,” I said as we pulled neatly up to the curb.

My daughter was laughing hysterically.

I stifled my own laugh.

“Have a nice day!” I chirped.

“I love you mom!” she said through her laughter. “Get a nap today, I think you need it!”

I watched her amble in through the doors of the school and drove off into the sunrise.

*****     *****     *****     *****      *****

For the most hilarious read you’ll have in months, I can assure you laughter with tears if you follow this link, written by a brilliant blogger from South Africa. Parenting for Dummies by 23 thorns.  Enjoy!!

Categories: Humor, Traffic | Tags: , , , , | 7 Comments

Two Verses On the Sounds and Sights of Sunday

Posted on October 21, 2012 by Kami

Early Sunday mornings around here are drenched in silence.  It’s a decadent feeling.  You might even call it serene. There is the occasional sound of a car in the distance, the odd background hum of an air conditioner, but for the most part the birds have the Sunday morning playlist covered.

Hummingbird

Hummingbirds zzzzzz through the air, darting and dancing among the various blossoms and edible insects.  They have a short chipping call that I find endearing.

The coo of mourning doves lends an undertone of reverence to the mostly silent morning.  Towhees get their name from the sound they make and I can count on a pair of them, at least, to add their notes to the quiet Sunday melody.  There is the sweet peep peep of house finches and the cheery chirrup of sparrows.  Not surprisingly, the Grackles seem to sleep in on Sunday mornings; which is fine with me, as their brackish caw adds little to the peaceful atmosphere.  The mockingbird provides the variation in this quiet Sunday song, as its call will vary with its latest exploits.

Sure, the birds are singing every morning, not just on Sundays, but they are the predominate sound on Sundays.  Today, the birds’ soft symphony is not a thing one has to search for amid the cacophony of traffic, dogs, horns, sirens, alarms, bells, construction, freeways, airplanes and people.  Today, I get to enjoy the clear tones of nature, the morning breeze across my skin, the refreshing silence of a Sunday.

A Different Kind of Music

What a contrast this is to what will be later this afternoon.  The park across the street will be alive with Frisbees, walking barking dogs, squeaking swings, thrown balls and children in their element.  There might be a picnic in the ramada with an extended family or group of friends.  The benches will fill with relaxed bodies, blankets spread out on the lawn. Babies will tentatively touch the grass and pull that sour face.

Girl Belly Button Upside Down Monkey Bars Weal...

photo by: stevendepolo

The sprinklers will surprise someone when they come on without warning and then a new game will occupy water-fascinated children.  Tummies will get a taste of sunshine as a few people hang upside from the monkey bars.  A tussle or two will result in tears.  Bicycles will whiz past, scooters will clack, clack, clack across the sidewalk bumps, a longboarder will slouch past, beatnik like, relaxed and too cool for words.

Shoes will fill up with sand.  Knees will get scraped.  Faces will get dirty.  Hands sticky.  Souls saturated with the perfection of a Sunday afternoon.

Sundays were made for silence and sanctuary.  They are ideal days for naps, friends and family, and good food.  Sundays are perfect for contemplating the miraculous and the ordinary.  The sacredness of Sundays manifests in so many ways.  There’s no other day like a Sunday.  It’s like a mini-holiday every week..  I guess that’s what it is, or can be, if we choose to make it so.  It is a Holy Day, something simply divine.

Categories: Joy, Music, Outdoors, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

My Temporary Blue Funk: Not A Musical Group or Genre

Posted on October 16, 2012 by Kami

I’m feeling like a helium balloon that has lost its lift, hovering somewhere between the ceiling and the floor, the curled ribbon dragging the ground, the shiny color of me now a chalky version of myself.

A blue funk. That’s the only word I know to describe this.  Tears keep pushing at my eyes. Sighs keep escaping from my mouth. I want to close all the blinds, crawl under the covers and sleep until I wake feeling new.

Why So Blue?

A few days ago my parents flew into town for a visit.  And today they left.

There is nothing I can do about the feeling.  I am a grownup adult type person.  Very grown.  Very up, usually.  Why would I miss my Dad and Mom like this?

It happens every time I have to say goodbye to them.  I know it’ll happen like I know the sun is going to come up in the morning.  I can’t head it off at the pass.  I can’t sidetrack it.  I can’t make it not happen.  I’ve tried to analyze it.  I’m trying again, right now, as I write.

Why My World Turns Indigo:

Theory 1.) My parents seem to view me and treat me like I’m this amazing person.  I feel like I’m on a pedestal when I’m around them.  I’m pretty sure that’s because the teenager I was and the who I am now are so diametrically different.  I’m sure they wondered often if they would survive raising me.  I turned out okay after a while though, in good measure, because they never gave up on me, loved me anyway. And, I didn’t want to disappoint them.

It is nice being seen in such a good light.  I’m really not all that amazing.  Okay, maybe a little amazing, since I have such great parents.  It probably helps that I live two states away and they don’t see me that often.

Theory 2.) When I’m around my parents, maybe I’m more me than the usual me.  Or maybe I’m the ideal me.  Maybe I’m the best of both of them especially when we’re all together.   Does any of that make sense? So when they go it’s like the best me goes out the door, too.

Theory 3.) Nothing else in the world matches the feelings between parents and children.  There’s some connection, some energy, some something, that happens, that fills and feeds both the parent and the child when they’re together.  Maybe it’s more noticeable as we get older.  I’m not sure.  I’m just throwing out theories here from my blue state of mind. The more I think about this the deeper the blue gets.

Theory 4.) If I think about these things from my own kids’ points of view, (which is nearly impossible and a bit frightening actually) I’m not sure any of these theories hold any water, or hold up, or hold out, or whatever cliché I’m trying for in this sentence.  Do my kids miss me when I leave them? Are they more themselves when they’re around me?  Do they feel loved and idolized? (I hope so!) Do they get some energy from me that make them more…them?

Theory 5.) I’m really just a five year-old kindergartener at heart.  Every day is the first day of school.  The world was so much safer at home, so much more manageable, so much more kid-friendly.  Being around Mom and Dad makes me feel safe and loved and secure.  When they go, that sense of security, of “all’s right with the world,” goes with them.

Where’s My Blanket and Lambie?

There you have it.  I’ve analyzed it as far as my temporarily funky cerulean mood will let me take it.  I’m thinking it’s probably a combo of a few of the above theories.  Although, if pushed I’d say I’m leaning toward Theory 5.

Enough of the analysis.  The only way to get through this kind of short-term blues is to ride it out.

I’m gonna volley this deflated balloon around the room for a while.  Maybe I’ll eat a PBJ, break out the crayons and do some coloring, practice tying my shoelaces.  Then I’m going to curl up on my bed and sleep until I wake up to a different color.

Weekly Challenge Post 

Categories: Relationships | Tags: , , , | 11 Comments

It’s Another Gratituesday! Six Reasons I’m the Richest Person I Know

Posted on October 16, 2012 by Kami

It’s Gratituesday! October 16  –  Today I find myself unable to focus on just one single thing I’m grateful for.  My cup runs over with gratitude. Today I am more aware and appreciative of:

  • The freedom I have to speak my mind without reprisal or fear. I know this is a relatively rare thing in the world at large.  Sometimes it’s a rare thing even here in the US.  Repression rears its ugly head in private homes, too.
  • My education; knowing how to read, write, figure out math, understand scientific concepts, grasp difficult ideas, think and reason.
  • Employment; the job I currently have allows me incredible flexibility and freedom.  I’m treated well, better than I deserve and I feel loved appreciated. How many people do you know that can say that about a job?  How many people do you know wish they had a job of any kind?
  • Having two parents who have always been supportive, loving, caring, kind and generous.
  • Extended family fanning out in many directions, and in just as many flavors.  Good times!
  • An abundant life filled with opportunity, friends, health, experiences, fun, challenge, growth and variety.

I’m amazed as I think about the richness of my life.

It’s a good day for reflection.  There is so much that’s good in the world.  So many things that can bring happiness to mind.

I hope if you were to list some of your blessings, some of  your “happies” you’d find yourself feeling equally blessed.

Categories: Gratituesday, Joy | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Are you a Morning Person, a Night Owl, or a Troll?

Posted on October 5, 2012 by Kami
young Long-eared owl (Asio otus), surroundings...

young Long-eared owl (Asio otus), surroundings of Warsaw, Poland (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Years ago, I believed the only way to get some quiet time in my house was to wait until everyone finally, blessedly, went to bed at night.  That’s a nice theory, but  it never really worked.  Oh, I spent a handful of all-nighters where I deep cleaned and organized the kitchen, or read entire chapters of books, blissfully uninterrupted, but that was when the kids were younger than twelve and had something that resembled a schedule.  Most nights, by the time everyone, including  my sweet husband, dropped off into Neverland, I was too zoned out to remember why I was so anxious to have them all go away to bed.  If I could remember the reason I so desperately wanted complete quiet then I was too sleepy to use the time effectively or enjoy my solitude.

Epiphany!

Then I had an epiphany!  (I love that word, don’t you?  It just rolls off your tongue.  It would make a great title for a novel and has probably been the title of a few million poems.)  Anyway, I did.  I had an epiphany.  Here it is:

I am a morning person.

That’s it!  Yes.  That’s all.  A.M.  That’s me.

Another Epiphany

P.M. That’s the rest of my family.

I’m married to a night owl and my children are all practically allergic to mornings.  Their ideal breakfast time is somewhere around noon.  Once the sun drops out of view in the western sky they kick into high gear.  Weird.

I don’t understand that.  I don’t particularly want to understand it.  But I have had to learn to live with it.

Some Adjustments Required

I’ve had to make some adjustments occasionally.  There have been those post-date, late into the wee hours of night discussions with my teens.  You MUST NOT doze off when THEY are in the mood to discuss their lives, even it’s two a.m.  Those were some of the best discussions ever.

My ideal bedtime is somewhere near sunset or shortly afterwards, but in order to foster family relationships I have let my bedtime inch toward the nether reaches of the night.  I’ve watched more MASH reruns with my sweet husband than either of us would ever publicly admit, but he has wanted my company on the couch beside him, sharing the laughter and I decided I would oblige him.  His favorite time for heartfelt discussions?  You guessed it, after ten p.m.  We finally decided to find a neutral time for potentially volatile communications, as I am not exactly emotionally stable as bedtime draws near, passes me and leaves me nodding my head in exhaustion.

Cons and Pros

Being a night person has its drawbacks if you are employed in a nine to five kind of situation, if you have children, if you have a dog, or parakeets, or if you live near a school, a park, a freeway, or other people.   Being a night person works very well if you are a college coed, a drug dealer or criminal, a law student, a med student, or you  work the swing shift.  Morning people have it a lot easier. Mostly.  Unless they live with all night people.  And I do mean ALL NIGHT.  Sigh.

The Enforcer

As you might imagine, I was always the enforcer when it came to prying the children out of bed in time to deliver them to the bus stop, the carpool, or most recently, the attendance office.  Our local high school decided to punish the parents for their children being late to school, requiring us to come into the office to sign in the child upon their late arrival.  Luckily I am a morning person and was always fully dressed for such occasions, unlike many other, obviously night people parents, who were still in some clothing resembling pajamas.  (I believe this is where the stylish idea for the messy hair look came from; night people who just couldn’t muster facing themselves in the mirror in the morning. But that is another topic altogether.)

My sweet husband has had to learn to battle his own morning demons.  As if there were such a thing as a MORNING demon!  Everyone knows demons can’t tolerate sunlight, just like trolls.

Hey, now there’s an epiphany!!

Categories: Relationships | Tags: , , , , | 8 Comments

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