Not long ago I decided to get off my bum and drive my kids to the bus stop in the pouring rain.  The pouring rain is a happy thing around here.  Rain (instead of snow or ice) means there might be a God out there who is considering sending spring our way, someday.  It washes away the old snow and slush and leaves a fresh landscape of potholes, mud and weird grit, so we can freeze up and cover it with snow again.  Such is the freeze/thaw cycle in Michigan, but it really makes us appreciate the miracle of spring.  Anyway. . .

I had to prepare my gigantic mug of coffee for the 3-minute trip down the street.  I’m one of those people who needs to have a coffee mug in hand for at least the first two hours of the day.  It makes me happy, and you know the motto, “When momma’s happy, everybody’s happy.”  

So I grabbed my coffee, hopped into the car and headed down the street.  I wedged my big round coffee mug as best I could into the cup holder. 

I bet you can guess what happened next.

As I pulled up to the stop, my unsecured mug tipped over, and out poured the entire contents — directly into the adjacent cup holder. 

That’s right.  It didn’t spill all over the car, it poured right into the cup holder, filling it up like a cup of coffee itself.

My first reaction?  “Oh ______ (fill in your favorite expletive here), I can’t believe this happened.  What a schmuck I am.  G is going to kill me (because this isn’t the first time I’ve done something dumb with my coffee).  This is starting out to be a lousy day.”

Then I realized, “I am the luckiest woman ever.  Who accidentally spills her coffee directly into another vessel without splash or spill?  It’s going to be an amazing day.” 

After the kids finished laughing at me, I sent them on their way, went home, and cleaned up easily.  Zero evidence. 

What do you think?  Schmuck or luck?  Half empty or full?

(No, you’re not crazy if you think you’ve read this before.  Things have been a little crazy around here–in a good way–so I thought I’d share this little ditty from the archives.  Thanks for understanding.)

It happens every night.  Somehow, she shuffles around in her sleep, rolling into a little ball and piling the puffy down cloud on top of her into a mountain of coziness.  She’s deep underneath in her warm sweet slumber, and it’s my job to coax her out to greet the morning.

It’s my favorite part of the day.  After her brothers have caught the early bus and before the chaos of the day begins, just she and I steal a few precious moments of our own.  When I’ve planned it right, I slip in under the cloud and spoon around her, soaking in the radiant heat of her skin and the scent of her shampooed hair.  She mumbles a little and we snuggle as long as we can.

Has it really been almost nine years since I held this babe in my arms, nursing her to sleep, cherishing every moment with my last, littlest one? 

She’s not a babe anymore.  She’s lean and long.  I can’t reach the full length of her legs, and when she jumps into my arms, my back aches.  I catch my breath when she saunters up the stairs with a slight sway of her hips –not on purpose–  just naturally feminine. 

There’s trouble ahead; I’m sure of it.  The posturing and friendship dramas already flare upon occasion, and I have no doubt there will be more to come.   But there’s also great joy in the glimpses of profound thought and compassion that arise more often as she grows.  

I cannot stop the flow of time.  I don’t really want to. 

So today, I savor a snuggle with my baby girl.  I never know how many more mornings like this we’ll have.

This is part of Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.

Tootsie

and

Tammy

Of course I would never invite a couple of rodents, much less rats, into our home, but Santa delivered them so what could I do?

I think they’re actually pretty cute.  They’re learning quickly to come to my call.  Just label me the ratmaster of the house.

So we enter 2010 with a new perspective on who is welcome or not in our home.  That’s what New Year is all about, isn’t it?  Out with the old ideas and in with the new.  I wonder what other unexpected delights the new year will bring?  Here’s to paying attention and seeking serendipity. 

Wishing you a blessed beginning to 2010.  Happy New Year!

This article from Chick Moorman and Thomas Haller always re-frames my thinking gives me a lift.  I’m printing my favorite snippets; please read the complete article here.

____________________________________________

Special Thanks This Thanksgiving
By Chick Moorman and Thomas Haller

Millions of parents will pause this Thanksgiving to do what the day was originally created for — give thanks for the many blessings that exist in their lives. . .But what if your appreciation this Thanksgiving took on a new look? What if the blessings you count this year included situations that aren’t usually regarded as helpful, useful or valuable? Consider the following:

Why not be thankful that your child is two years behind grade level in his reading ability? This struggling reader is giving you the opportunity to read to him regularly at night. This evening ritual will help build connectedness between you and your child while at the same time modeling your love for the printed word. Great literature can be shared as you simultaneously bond with your child. This opportunity is an incredible blessing. Appreciate it. . .

Why not be thankful that your teenager received a speeding ticket? Getting a ticket is not a bad thing. Not if your teen learns from it and slows her driving for the next year. If she takes personal responsibility, pays the ticket, and is more cautious about her driving, the ticket may well save her life or the life of someone else in the future. Bless the ticket and give thanks for its blessings.

Why not be thankful that your 8-year-old shoplifted in the grocery store? This is the perfect time to teach your child about shoplifting. Better now than when he helps himself to someone else’s car when he is 18. Teach him how to make amends. Teach him what to say as he returns the candy bars to the storeowner. Help him learn to articulate what he learned and what he intends to do differently next time. Bless this perfect time to teach lessons about taking things that don’t belong to you. Be grateful for the opportunity.

Why not be thankful that your youngsters track mud and sand into the garage and house? The next time you stand in the garage furiously sweeping sand and wishing that your children were better behaved; quietly remind yourself that one day you’ll wish you had sand to sweep out of the garage. Love the mud. Love the sand. Be grateful for the signs of the presence of children in your life. . .

Why not be thankful that your adolescent asked you about sex? This is a great sign. It means your child trusts you enough to talk to you about sex. It means she is not getting all her sex knowledge from the street. It means you have moved beyond “the talk” to having an ongoing, honest conversation about the important subject of sex. Congratulate yourself. It is a blessing that you are willing to fulfill that role for your child and that she is responding to it positively. Give thanks. . .

Why not give thanks that your child is spilling milk, talking with his mouth full, wiping cranberry sauce on his new pants, refusing to eat his vegetables, and interrupting his grandmother at the dinner table this day? It means you have more work to do as a parent. It means your job is not yet done. This is a blessing. You are still needed to help your child learn to pour milk more carefully, improve his table manners, learn to eat nutritiously, and show respect for elders. Give thanks for these opportunities. . .

This Thanksgiving remember that parenting is a ministry. It is a sacred role that you are being called to perform. Give thanks that you have been called. Give thanks that you are willing to step forward and accept that call. Appreciate that you are being shown the way. Celebrate yourself and your contribution to healing the planet by helping your children evolve into the people they were meant to be. You are a blessing to the world. Give thanks that you are up to the task.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Chick Moorman and Thomas Haller are the authors of The 10 Commitments: Parenting with Purpose.  Follow their parenting posts at Uncommon-Parenting.

Also, it’s not to late to join me in the 30 Days of Gratitude project this month.  Check it out here. 

photo credit: TheAlieness GiselaGiardino²³

As an infant, we would tickle him over and over to hear his infectious giggle.  As he grew, he’d entertain us with dramatic antics, and at night you can still hear him laughing with his brother until they collapse into slumber.  He’s eleven. 

I have to admit, the controlling mom in me sometimes worries if he goes to far.  He loves to make other kids laugh, but is he too distracting in the classroom?  Does he really understand when to turn it on and when (and how) to simmer down?  At home, those boundaries blur.  Our meals sometimes disentegrate into ROFL laugh fests–sometimes that’s a welcome release, and sometimes it gets tiresome.

Recently we played a family board game together (Settlers of Catan–highly recommended for older kids), and the silly sounds and voices were in full swing.    We all laughed together until the antics got old and the game wasn’t working.  Dad and I tried to get our son to settle down but the goofy beast kept escalating, and everyone was irritated. 

Finally, Dad ordered him to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the game. 

N flipped off his internal goofiness switch.  The game resumed in peace and quiet. 

But it wasn’t fun any more.  We tried to continue, but everyone’s enthusiasm dwindled.

So we told N he could go back to his usual self.  He immediately perked up, and so did we.

And then he said this:

“See, I just proved to you how much this family needs me around.” 

You know, he’s absolutely right.  I’m so grateful for his gift of goofiness.  May he hang onto that spirit, and may we remember to treasure it every day.

If you’d like to join me in finding gratitude in the little things, register for 30 Days of Gratitude.  It starts Sunday!

30daysofgratitude.org

It’s so simple, yet so powerful.  Just challenge yourself to submit one daily gratitude through the month of November.  You’ll receive helpful reminder emails and be inspired by other folks’ gratitudes along the way.  If it sounds like too much, you can choose “gratitude light” (weekly) or do it with a group.  You can even partner with a friend who might not be so internet-driven.  Just do it.

Countless studies prove that the act of acknowledging our blessings and taking a moment to express gratitude can change lives.   Even if it doesn’t change our circumstance, it changes our outlook, and that makes all the difference.  I’ve picked up gratitude journals, began writing 1000 gifts through Holy Experience’s beautiful Gratitude Community, and tried other methods.  They’ve been helpful but I must admit I fall out of habit pretty quickly.  I need to mix it up a bit sometimes. 

Annie’s plan is brilliant.  It takes 30 days to develop a solid habit and this project fits that window perfectly.  And for me, the email reminders and internet format make it easy and convenient.  I’m excited to begin.  Again. 

What about you?  C’mon, do it with me! 

Join in–spread the word–tell some friends–post it on your blog.

Let’s turn this world around, one blessing at a time.

If that’s not enough, just listen to Annie’s enthusiasm (be sure to watch Part 1 and Part 2):

Looking forward to a month of feeling grateful with you.  Get started here.

Ann Arbor-Hikone Exchange 2009

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” — Mark Twain

Or, as my teen son summed it up on Facebook (not quite as eloquently, but I must admit, it captured the sentiment): 

“There’s a fr__kin’ sweet Japanese kid at my house!” 

 How sweet it was.  We had a great week hosting Kohei, our fourteen year old exchange student from Hikone, Japan. 

Prior to his visit, I worried about whether our home was welcoming or clean enough, how we would communicate, and whether he would eat well or miss his home.  I wanted to make sure he had a great time, that he appreciated our fair city, and that we pretended to act like a normal American family.   Or maybe even better than normal, whatever that is.     

There was no need to worry.  Kohei was delightful, and he spoke terrific English, to our great relief.  He was social and engaging:  playing football with the neighbors, riding ripstik with my younger son, and teaching my daughter magic tricks.  He deemed all of my food “delicious.”   Of course it was–even the squash soup and the boxed mac ‘n cheese.  I hope my own kids were paying attention.

By opening our home to a visitor from afar, we learned so much.  The state of my house wasn’t so important; by the end of the week it was as messy as usual.  Despite language hurdles and minor cultural differences (learning to work the shower, doing neat little bundles of laundry each day, or miso soup for breakfast), we’re not so different.  Teens don’t need major entertainment.  They are happy hanging out with friends, wherever they are.  They like to flirt and tease each other, just like our kids.   They enjoyed seeing the local sights, but more importantly, they wanted to make connections.  

When I asked Kohei what he wanted to do most while he was here, he promptly said, “I want to make lots of friends.”   

Mission accomplished. 

At our Sayonara (farewell) party, the Japanese host, Mr. Ikegami, framed it like this: 

 ”I cannot change the war of the past, but it is my duty to make sure it never happens again.”

If we are honest, we all have our history and prejudices.  Conflict with the Japanese is not in my personal history, but it is for many who still feel the sting of World War II.  But regardless of the differences, if we make a friend–a real connection–it becomes impossible to hate or paint broad negative assumptions about an entire group of people.  Because we’ll always remember that one friend who was so kind.   

So now we have a dear friend in Japan, who my son will visit in just two weeks.  I must agree with my son:  It’s very (is it okay to say fr__kin’?) sweet. 

They pump water from the nearby lake into this tub and heat it completely with a submersible wood stove.  Yep, that’s what I said:  the wood stove is mostly under water and heats things up quite nicely, summer or winter.  I prefer about 107 degrees Farenheit; the kids like it a few degrees cooler.   

Now that’s what I call living off the land.  Or lake. 

How do you enjoy life’s little luxuries?

In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if they were downright surly.  Who would want to sit in a hot (or cold) little booth all day, taking cash from folks who don’t want to give it, and serve as the gatekeeper to moving on with the day?  

Thanks to a thriving downtown, parking in our medium-sized city is tight, which means most parking costs a bit.  It’s far less than any large city I know, but more than most midwest towns, so people fight the fees.  Their customers are a tough bunch:  angry if the tab is higher than expected, impatient if they have to wait a minute, and sometimes, clueless enough to not have the buck or two required to escape.  The rates have gone up, which makes people mean and nasty, even if it’s just ten cents/hour.  Who would want to deal with people like that all day?

But lately, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by my town’s parking attendants.  I don’t know if it’s the downtown development authority, the Republic Parking company, or just inherently happy employees, but I find these folks remarkably friendly when I pass through the gate.  They offer a warm welcome, kindly request my payment, and send me off with a fond farewell.  I’m genuinely convinced they love their jobs and want me to have a nice day:  all the elements of great customer service.   Makes me wonder if it would be fun to be a parking attendant.  For a little while. 

So here’s to people who create something special out of mundane work by passing along a smile.  You make my day. 

What unexpected folks make your day a little brighter?

Check out more inspiring tributes over here:

photo credit: ptufts

On the flip side, Billy Coffey’s piece made me think about how, even in our quest for fun, we can miss the little things that are most important.  It’s a good read, and you can read more of Billy’s work at What I Learned Today. 

Hope you’re enjoying good summer runnin’, as well as lots of slow summer walkin’.