Friends...

Something I had to share...


A friend loves you all the time. — Proverbs 17:17 NCV

Every friendship arises out of some kind of invitation. Inviting is active. Inviting says, “I was thinking about you, and I am requesting your presence.” Inviting says, “I have made time for you and me to celebrate.” Inviting makes a hopeful promise of good times.
To the party of friendship, you must bring a gift. You’ve been invited, remember? “Your presence is requested.” It would be far easier to bring a kitchen gadget. C. S. Lewis cautions us that we may act kindly, correctly, justly . . . and yet withhold the giving of ourselves, which is love. To offer a vulnerable nugget of your soul that has been mined from a deep, sometimes dark, place is more valuable than gold to your friend.
— Nicole Johnson

The word friend is often misused.

To say someone is your friend means what?  Does it mean that you would call them to share you good news & bad news?  OR  Does it mean that you simply know that person?

A friend should be trustworthy. Unconditional. Nonjudgemental. Forgiving. Honest. Real.  A good friend can show up at your messy house, move a pile of laundry on your couch and share a glass of tea, just because.  The great friend will help you fold that pile of laundry!

Good friends will love your children, if for no other reason just because you do.  If your child requires something extra - they will take a moment to understand your child's special needs, making you & your child feel safe and loved.

Disclaimers are not required with friends.  If you tell them you are ready to sell your children to the Gypsies, they will know you are not serious and that loosing your children would be like loosing the ability to breathe.

A good friend listens to you, even when you ramble on, and they love you anyway.  They cry when you hurt, they laugh when you laugh at yourself, and they rejoice with you about even the little things.

They find the good in you even when you can't.  You leave them feeling better than when you arrived.  Not wondering if you are being judged.

Friendships cross all levels of social class, education, race, and interests.

I am learning that there are many types and levels of friendship.  My neighbor said to me Thursday - "friendships should be easy".  She was talking about how real friendships are void of judgement, expectations, and stress.  If you leave a conversation with a friend feeling bad about yourself... I think this is not a great friend.

As I talk with many 'friends' throughout my day, I kept thinking... friendships are supposed to be easy... is this easy?

Now I think I will be careful with my words.  Instead of saying 'my friend', I may say 'I know this gal who...'  Also, it's okay not to be friends with everyone.  Everyone should be friends with me though.  HA!

When I think about why people ask for my friendship... Instead of thinking I have nothing to offer them - I will remember my real friends. The ones who build me up, who love me just because.  The friends who don't want anything but "a vulnerable nugget of your soul that has been mined from a deep, sometimes dark, place." 

Tell me, what makes your real friends, your friend?

Worth being quiet for...

I have so much going on and I know that writing would be therapeutic, but if I were to write at this time, you may call social services, the men with the straight jacket, or declare me crazy.  SO for this time, while I collect my thoughts and gain perspepctive... I am simply going to post some pictures I have been taking and working with this past week.  I hope you enjoy them, and take a moment to enjoy.

This was taken in haste.  Bringing the camera from the cool house out into the humid air, was not a wise move.  The lens fogged up and took what seemed like and eternity to clear.

It was worth the wait because brighter Humming birds cam by ready to be photographed.

ahh, much better

Word of the day

Brilliant.

shining brightly; sparkling; glittering; 

distinguished; illustrious; 

having or showing great intelligence, talent, quality;

splendid or magnificent

I just got off the phone with a friend who is working on a paper.  She is an amazing woman, as most of my friends are, and a person that I admire.  I told her to "be brilliant".  I thought to myself, brilliant... hmm.  There is a great word.

Putting sarcastic tones aside, just say that word aloud. Brilliant. You have to move your mouth. Your tongue must move, your lips must touch, and you should articulate and not mumble.  Do all these things and something happens.  Go ahead... try it a few times.  Aloud.  Brilliant.  Brilliant.  Now say "Be Brilliant!"  Did you notice anything?

Compare to the word 'good'.

Say "I am good".  Then say "I am brilliant".  If you were honest with yourself I think you would see that the word Brilliant is a fabulous word!  (fabulous being one of my personal favorite words).

The word Brilliant can be a fun word to say.  You can roll your r's.  You can shake your head side to side.  You can exclaim.  You could even do all three things at once and I bet you will have a smile on your face.

Go ahead - try it.

Just have some fun with the word today.  Use it whenever possible.  "that lemonade was brilliant", ""your outfit is brilliant", "my friend Jen is brilliant".  Okay, I know I said no sarcasm.

Let me know what you think - how did you use the word today?

I wish for you all to have a BRILLIANT day!!

Isn't it beautiful?

This is a street in Bernkastel Germany.  I fell in love with the cobblestone and the tall crooked buildings that lined the way.  It was a foggy day. No matter, it was still filled with hustle and bustle of the local shops.  I had to be patient to get this shot.  One without cars or people. Yes, cars. Of course only one car at a time could fit.  Never mind the car/people combination at times.  See the railing on the left?

I find I get lost in this picture.  Not sure why.  Maybe the way the road climbs into the foggy unknown.  Maybe the image of horse and carriages filling this road long before cars and delivery vans.  Maybe it's thinking about how these buildings were constructed hundreds and hundreds of years ago.  The amount of history that has taken place on these very roads.  Whatever the reason, this picture has been a calming image to me this week.

The journey between the past and the present is sometimes a long journey.  Who we are today is far different than the person we were 10, 20, 30 years ago.  Some of us change for the good.  Some of for the not so good.  Either way, our choices and experiences form us into the person we have become in the present.  Sometimes we get there without any big life changing event - it's just who we become.  Some of us take chances and make choices  that give us experiences that we would never have had if we didn't take that chance. Others may have dramatic things happen, both positive or negative, that cause them to make certain choices about their lives.  We realize that we change.  We realize that who we were in high school is not the person we are now.  So, why is it then... we forget that others change too?

Isn't it unfair to be proud of the person you have become and not give anyone else the option of also becoming a better person?  Sure it is.  Especially if that person is someone who has caused you to make conscious decisions about how you live your life.

This week I was visited by my past.  I had not spent any significant time with this person in about 24 years.  There has been the occasional phone call here and there.  A visit that would last for 1-3 hours every 3-5 years.  But to spend real quality time... that is a lot to ask.

I don't do well with surprises.  I like to know the who, what, when, where, why, and how as much as I can.  Yes I know I have control issues.  I am a planner.  The more notice I have, the better.  So to get a phone call Sunday afternoon that I am getting company Wednesday from this person, was not a very soothing experience for me.

Tuesday I spent in a whirlwind of anxiety.  Uncertain of what would be expected of me.  What I was supposed to do.  How I was supposed to act.  Was I going to cook meals, and if so what?  Would they be acceptable?  Is my house clean enough?  Are my children good enough. Am I good enough? Will he be disappointed in me?  Then the biggest question of all... Why oh why do I care so much?  Why was this eating me alive inside?  Why did I still have this fear?  I knew that a trauma in his life had given him a new perspective on life - so why would I expect him to be the same demeaning man he was 25 years ago?

I could not have made it though the first few hours without the love and encouragement of my husband and friends.  The visit was a success.  It was great to get to know this man who I had once feared.  Then had learned to love and have compassion for.  Things were not all sunshine and roses.  There were plenty of awkward moments.  Stories from memory lane, that sometimes stopped dead in their telling because they didn't always have happy endings.  Overall, it was a good visit.  It was emotionally draining, but a good visit.  How selfish of me to not think that he too could change.  Shame on me for doubting myself and second guessing my entire life.

People do change.

Sometimes we have to take a chance.  Grab on tight to the railing, and make the journey up the narrow path and into the foggy future.  Yes, I believe that is it.  I think that it why this picture has stuck with me all week.  I was holding on to that rail and taking one step at a time hopeful that no cars would come zooming by, taking me back from where I once was.

Summer Time....

Summer time.

I love summer.  I have especially looked forward to this summer.  We are not moving. We are not in the middle of some base exercise. We are not committed to anything other than having a fun summer.

The slip-n-slide, double wide, is well broken in. The ice shaver is running and shaving mountains of ice.  The basement awaits, nice and cool, with snugly blankets and movies to watch while we cool off.  

Plans for library visits, piano lessons, day trips to the beach, lunch with daddy, sleeping in late, and weekends made for relaxing.. that will be our summer.  

This year has been a long year and a short year.  Is that possible?  Third grade was full of testing.  Test, test, and another test.  By the time they did their SOL (standard of learning) exams - everyone was ready for school to be over.  The girls finished up wonderfully.  We are very proud.  I wont brag here about them, that's what the family blog is for.  I will say, they both achieved their goals and far exceeded mine.

Imagine their surprise when I announced that they will continue with reading everyday.  Not so bad right? Now imagine their surprise when I told them they had to write about what they read. HA!  I'm not asking for a 10 page review.  Just a paragraph telling about the story - what they liked, what character they liked... that kind of thing.  

They both grumbled - D1 cried - but when it comes down to it - I can set the timer for 30 minutes and at the end they ask if they can keep going... So, I'm not all that mean I guess.  

I am looking forward to discovering the library and a used book store my friend has raved about.  Taking day trips and taking fun photos.  Afternoons of playing barbies, painting, dancing around, bike rides, wii competitions, steamed crabs and barbeque.  I look forward to a great summer, one day at a time. Relishing in the little things and smiling all the way.

busy, busy, busy... not really in comparison..

The ebb and flow of a busy life.  Some say that if you are a stay at home mom, you have all the time in the world.  It's true.  The common misperception that is.  When teachers & coaches look for someone to help out with tasks, the first they look to are the stay at home moms.  "oh, I can ask Sally, she's home all day & doesn't work." Don't worry, this isn't my stay at home mom soap box - I am actually going somewhere else with this point.  Actually, it isn't a point at all but rather a thought to ponder.

There are moments in my life, since I stopped working and became a SAHM, that I was overcommitted with activities.  I was knee deep with church involvements, Military spouse commitments, clubs, and oh yeah, being a mom to toddlers and a wife.  It was a whirlwind at times, but I managed.  I have always been a very independent, self-sufficient, task oriented woman.  Then I had children.  I still was on a mission, craved a schedule, and took on the world, but more and more went by the wayside.  Children can change those things, and new perspectives are in order.  As the girls got older I got back in the groove.  I wasn't just part of something, I was the one responsible for that something.  My calendar, color coded of course, looked as though a rainbow had vomited all over it.

In the last year, my calendar has changed dramatically.  the things I am doing, aside from mothering, are not change the world kind of things.  But there is this level of feeling overwhelmed that creeps in and takes hold of me.  I become emotionally drained over the little things.  Today for example, I sent the girls to school and soon I will have coffee with a friend.  After that I will stop by the house to see how the painters are doing - redoing the botched paint job they did on our deck.  Then it is off to school to volunteer.  D2 has a dr appointment today with a counselor for the ADHD.  My day should end nicely about 6pm.  None of these things are hugely stressful.  Yet I feel heavy.  There are things that are lingering that I need to get done, that I have the mental motivation, but they are not getting done.  Where has the drive gone?  I am trying to be a cheerleader for my family.  "I've got this... go on, don't worry" is what I say.  Truth be told, I am not sure I do "got this".

Why is it the more we take on, the more productive we are?

Or are we?

Is it because my focus now isn't about the quick fixes and taskers for others - but rather the long term investments of time and other things are heavy because they are beyond my control?

I can't control the deck people doing a bad job on our deck.  I can't control when the toilet breaks.  I can't control my daughter's ADHD and know everything I need to do to help her. I can't control when the military sends my husband away.  I can't control the bully at school.

You know they say the hardest advice to take is your own.  What would I tell me?

Too old to be read to? No way!

I have always loved the stories of Roald Dahl.  The words he chooses for his stories paint such amazing images.  Even as an adult I love reading his stories.

My girls are both advanced readers and so when they started reading so much on their own, I somehow thought that I didn't need to continue to read to them.  Sure, there was a story here and there.  A few bedtime stories that I would make up off the cuff.  But to engage in a chapter book night after night - just never seemed to take off.  I would suggest some stories, that in my opinion were great stories, but the girls would shrug their shoulders and tell me they would think about it.. for next time.

I felt they were missing out.  I didn't want them to give to the pressures of reading all the new & current stories out there for children.  We recently attended the schools book fair.  Now, I am a HUGE fan of book fairs, but this one made me head to the nearest books store and really start looking for good stories for my children.  The school's book fair didn't have much of a selection to start.  Especially on their reading level.  What was more concerning was that most of the books lacked any sort of family.  Reading the summary I found, on most of the books, that the character in the story had lost their parents and had to go live on an island and they hated their grandparents.  That they had one parent and hated that parent.  All of these children in the stories were about 10 and had lost one or both of their parents.  OR their parents were cruel and so the child was full of resentment.  Or they dealt with issues that my girls just don't need to know about yet.

Before I go on, I know that the above story starts off with the boys parents being killed in a car crash.  But he ADORES his Grandmother who loves and takes care of him.  Many classics have some sort of oppression in the family, but there is love, there is security and the family may be a little different, but there is a new form of family that is developed. Maybe through a teacher that saw something special in a child, maybe through a neighbor, or a grandparent.  Not through hatred and anger.  They certainly don't deal with puberty and boyfriends and teenage pregnancy.  My 8 & 9 year old daughters, just don't need that in their fictional reading.

So I have steered my children back to the "old" stories.  D1 fell in love with the BFG and Charlie & the Chocolate Factory.  D2 loved the Fantastic Mr. Fox and Matilda.  They wanted something a little more "gripping", was the word D1 used.  I didn't want them scared out of their wits and I wanted them to see how fun it can be to use your imagination.  "The Witches" it was.

I started reading it aloud and the girls were doing their own thing - not seeming to pay all that much attention to this old book that mom wanted them to read.  I only read about 2-3 pages from the first chapter. I closed the book.  At the same time they looked at me and said - "then what happened?... you can't just stop there".  They were hooked.  Every night so far they have loved sitting and listening to the story.  I especially love how each chapter leaves you longing to know what happens next.  They have been telling their friends about what they heard in the story and are excited every day to hear more.

Now, we don't believe in witches, or any thing of the sort.  I think that is why I like this book.  It keeps things light.  In the beginning when the Grandmother is describing a witch and why they are so mean... the boy asks about going to bed - if he will be safe.  Roald Dahl does a great job by telling us that Witches don't use guns, or break into houses, or anything of the sort... because that would get them caught and that would be no good.  I could see the relief in D1's face.  Just when the story would get a bit intense, there was humor.

I know plenty of parents who let their children watch & read all sorts of scary things.  They believe that it's good for their kids.  We feel that the real world is already full of those things, so lets keep fiction fiction.  They don't need to see movies about kidnappings, and murders, witches who posses and destroy.  We will stick to silly thing like magical chocolate factories and witches turning children into mice.  I am sure there are some who find fault with our philosophy of what we let the girls watch & read.  That's okay.  That is why we live in a country that gives us that privilege.

The toughest part about reading to the girls... they like pictures and I have forbidden the peeking of pictures.  I want them to see how wonderful words can be.  How by using different words, even creating words to describe some things, can be magical.  If they see the picture and it isn't as they had imagined, they will question the rest of their images, they will be distracted and try to fit the books image into their little head.  There are not many images any  way, and they are mere sketches... so I think they will survive.

I remember my fourth grade teacher reading to us at the end of the school day, if we had our work done and there was time.  I hung on every word she read and remember how great that was.  She read "A Wrinkle in Time" by Madeleine L'Engle, and I thought it was the best book ever.

We are never to old to read aloud or be read to.  I am so glad that my girls have reminded me of that.  Looking up from the pages, seeing them wide eyed and curious.  Ending a chapter and having them begging for just one more page...  Yep, that is all it took for me.  I look forward to a summer full of turning off the TV and letting our imaginations soar.