Wednesday, September 21, 2016

9/11


The 15th anniversary of “911” has come and gone.  The tributes on TV have ended, the questions my children have about this day in history have been answered, and the moments of silence have gone back to chatter, noise and life as we know it.
I may have looked in all the wrong places, but I didn’t find any “special” tributes or reflections this year, other than the significance of pointing out that it was indeed fifteen years since Americans as a whole witnessed, and mostly survived, the deadliest attack on our soil in our entire history.  We lost nearly 3,000 brave and unsuspecting American souls that day.
On Sunday I was pensive and reflective.  When the National Anthem began playing on TV at the start of the Patriots/Cardinals game, I stood up in my family room.  I believe in what Colin Kaepernick is not standing for.  I believe that there is still racial injustice in this country.  I believe that as citizens of the greatest country in the world, we are entitled to our show of non-violent civil unrest and peaceful protest.  I also believe that 2,977 people deserved my respect and recognition at that moment.  I stood quietly, with my hand over my heart, feeling very lost in the midst of my family members.  I don’t believe that I’ve ever stood before in my own home for the National Anthem.  I needed to do it that day.
I grew up with my parents telling me that they remembered where they were when JFK got shot.  I came home from school in the 6th grade and believed that the attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan would be my generation’s “where I was” moment.  I was wrong.
I was on the floor of my living room, ironically doing “airplanes” with my 15 month old son when the second plane hit the South Tower of the World Trade Center.  The North Tower had been hit just 17 minutes before.  When Matt Lauer interrupted the regular schedule of The Today Show for breaking news, the report suggested faulty air traffic control communication was to blame for the “accident.”  As I watched live from the floor of my home, my son’s belly positioned precariously on the soles of my feet, his hands securely in mine, it was somehow already clear to me that it would be a date that would go down in infamy for my generation.
My husband was in Las Vegas for the Auto Dealers’ Association (ADA) conference.  He was scheduled to come home that Tuesday night.  Like all other Americans scheduled to fly that night, he was unable to get a flight home.  They tried to rent cars, but found no available rentals.  My husband’s boss, an auto dealer, bought a minivan and together with 2 other conference attendees, they took turns driving virtually non-stop across the country to get each of them home to their families.  My husband arrived on a Saturday morning.  I still have the pillow he bought at a Walmart to help him sleep in the van after his driving shift was over.
I’m not sure that I know what I really wanted to write regarding this 15th anniversary of the 9/11 Terrorist Attacks.  I just know that I needed to write something.
Image courtesy of aeypix at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Three Little Words


Years ago when my children were still small and needed at least one nap a day, I struggled with when to get chores and errands completed.  As most moms would do, I tried to schedule my To Do list around their nap schedules:  laundry, light cleaning, and checking email while they napped at home; errands with the benefit of a drive-through window or those that were at least 40 minutes away, for the out-and-about-sleeping-in-their-car seat nap.  It’s what a mom does to get her stuff done.

On one particular frazzling day I lamented to a friend and neighbor at the bus stop that my youngest refused to nap in the car during my running around.  At 3:15PM while I waited for my two older ones to come home from school, I knew that I was on a very tight schedule to get homework, dinner, and baths squeezed into an evaporating time-line before said youngest completely passed out well in advance of her “scheduled” bed-time.  The trick would be to make sure that she ate just enough food before passing out at the dinner table.  NOT so that her full belly could dispel a middle of the night desire to waken for a more filling meal, but to quell my mother’s guilt over not allowing her a proper nap cycle and unrushed meal.

“I know I am hoping that her missed nap today will mean she will go to bed easily and sleep through the night, but I have a feeling it won’t work out that way.  It never does…”

My friend looked at me, and I swear there was a harp playing off-yonder and a soft illuminating light over her head, when she said, “That’s because sleep begets sleep.  Missing that nap doesn’t make them need sleep more.  Sleep begets sleep.”

Simple.  True.  Life-changing.

I have thought back on those 3 words more times in the last 7 years than I have replayed “The Beach Scene” between Rocky and Adrian in Rocky III, either in my head or on the TV.  If you know me, that’s saying A LOT!

What has changed in my life since then is the realization that anything good begets more good:  a work-out ethic, flossing daily, reading with my children, date night with my husband, volunteering at my children’s schools, seriously decreasing the amount of fried food from my diet, PATIENCE.  When I have made an effort to bring goodness into my life purposely, I have found myself wanting more.  And more.

I never used to agree with people that said that working out gave you more energy.  I always wanted to take a nap after a work-out.  I didn’t believe that floss was necessary unless I had eaten corn on the cob.  I believed that my children would just love to read because I loved to read.  I knew that couples had to carve out time for themselves, but there was always the Empty Nest years to look forward to.  Offering a helping hand to the PTO would have to wait until I had all children in school full-time.  How could I give up French Fries?!  Patience may be a virtue, but God clearly blessed some of us with a loud voice and impetuous nature to deal with the annoyances of life the way that we all truly want to deal with them, while those darned patient people are giving so many second and third chances away.

But when I looked at my life AFTER doing some of these things, I started to see that although I didn’t at first attribute my high spirits to the preceding act, I was, and still am, indeed enjoying a benefit.  I want to work out again, because there is something exhilarating about sore muscles.  I feel like I have done something, and I want to do it again.  After only 4 days of flossing, my gums stopped bleeding when I brushed my teeth.  My children became better readers, and better at keeping to the bedtime routine and I look forward to advanced children’s literature.  My husband became my boyfriend again and I can’t wait to hold his hand and sit next to him on the couch.  The joy that both my children and I get out of running into each other in the middle of the school day is something that I hadn’t anticipated.  I knew I would like it – I didn’t realize that they would like it, too.  It’s really not that hard to NOT swing through the drive-through at McDonald’s or order fries as my side when eating out!  A deep breath goes a long way.  So does excusing myself from the room and taking a “Mommy Moment.”  I find that my children, and adults, actually listened longer, and come back for more interaction or advice if I am more patient to begin with.

Sleep begets sleep.

I could interchange the word sleep for anything really, and it could prove true.  Unfortunately, it also holds true for the negatives in life:  NOT working out yesterday, the day before or today…; being too tired to floss before bed the last 3 nights after already telling my girls, “It’s late and I’m tired.  You can read to me tomorrow night.”  Letting another couple come along on our date is fun adult time, but when I get home, I still feel disconnected from my husband.  No adult time at all leaves me sullen and cranky.  Yelling at my kids about putting their sneakers away – AGAIN – leads to more yelling about backpacks, lunch boxes, dirty laundry, and whose night it is to feed the dog.  Impatience begets more impatience.

Even when I don’t look forward to my workouts, I know that if I can just get it done, I will feel better about myself for the rest of the day, and it will spur me on to get it done the next day.  I love how clean my mouth feels after I have flossed, and I am proud when the hygienist says I’m doing a great job.  (Why don’t they give out stickers to adults?!)  Time with my husband is my oasis in life.  We have 4 beautiful children and although they probably don’t realize it, I am more patient when I have had their dad all to myself.  Reconnecting with him can be as simple as a Sunday morning drive to get coffee and breakfast sandwiches, a movie, or drinks at the bar; while well-filling activities like a weekend away reignites my spirit and makes me happy and engaged in my children’s lives to a greater degree.

Practicing better behavior can become custom and contagious, much like bad habits, nasty thoughts, and insensitive actions all creep into continuous routines until they become a lifestyle.   A good deed, kind word, or encouraging sentiment begets more of the same.  I am constantly looking for ways to make my life and the lives of my family members better and happier.   It’s not about vacations and expensive things.  It is how we look at life and where we choose to put our efforts.  And once we have taken that first step towards goodness – anything good – the path has been paved and the road is already easier, even if it doesn’t initially feel that way.

Begets.  It is a powerful force.  Use it for good.