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.)

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!

1) Last week we hosted our young visitor from Japan and he was amazing!   We couldn’t have ordered up a more friendly, engaging, appreciative and English-speaking (whew!) fourteen year old.   We said our sad goodbyes this morning, and my son will have the joy of seeing him again in less than three weeks.  As soon as I have time to reflect I’ll write more about it.  

2)  You might enjoy these two articles about the exchange in our local paper:

Students raise money for trip to Japan

Local families host Japanese exchange students

3)  Today is my first born’s fourteenth birthday.  I can’t even process the meaning of this at the moment, but I must be off to prepare since we’ve been a little distracted.  In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a fun photo:

and some discussion on Flickr of the v-sign commonly used for photos.   Enjoy!

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?

A quick caveat:   I am very aware these dolls are expensive and some alternative brands will suffice.  I also understand there is plenty of consumerism, gender bias, and marketing manipulation involved.  Nevertheless, we planned ahead, fell in willingly, had a blast, and made some beautiful memories.

The highlight of the trip was allowing the girls to get their ears pierced, and –get this– piercing the dolls’ ears too.

My daughter had been begging to pierce her ears for months, but I hesitated.  My husband and I wanted our daughter to be old enough to take good care of her ears and her earrings.  I also wanted to make this strange ritual special.  I felt this need to protect her innocent earlobes from some cheap tryst in the back of a store that she might not remember tomorrow. 

So doing it with longtime family friends, with the added novelty of the dolls sharing the pain, seemed to qualify. 

We sprang the surprise idea on the girls, who were thrilled until we got to the store where ears get pierced.  Another girl had been stopping there for two days mustering up courage to do the deed.  One by one they sat on the throne and braved the puncturing with few tears, save one, who found her courage later in an ice cream sundae.  Finally, our girls smiled big, stood about two inches taller and celebrated their triumph.

The next day we headed to the American Girl salon to make sure the dolls weren’t left out of the fun.  We handed them over to the beauty technicians, who whisked them behind closed doors to drill holes in their lobeless heads lovingly pierce their little ears too.   Amazingly, we had no tears this time.

Freshly adorned with sparkly little studs, we went on our merry way to empty our wallets partake of the magic that is Chicago and American Girl.   More on that later.

Question for you:  How do you make little rituals something to remember?

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’.

1)  I’m thrilled to be joining the Parenting team for a new venture called AnnArbor.com.  Our traditional home town paper is closing, and the void is being filled by a web/paper combination that will include professional news reporting, micro-community journalism, and input from bloggers with a variety of passions.  When the site launches on July 20, I’ll be posting a few columns per week on AnnArbor.com.  I’m excited — it promises to be something fresh and different.  

2)  My thirteen year old has been busy preparing for his October trip to Japan.  He won the prize this week for the “most adventurous tasting” at the sushi feast.   Hmm.  .  . should I be proud?

3)  I learned to make paper cranes and got a little geeked about origami folding.  What a pleasure to dive back into those hands-on preschool skills once in awhile.

4)  My eleven year old told me to “drive like a wild woman” so he wouldn’t be late to swim practice yesterday.  He has no idea what he’s asking.

5)  I must say the summertime weather in Michigan is just delightful.  We’ve had 70-80 degree sunny weather this week.  Can’t be beat.

6)  I’ve been ruminating on Barbara Brown Taylor’s An Altar in the World:  A Geography of Faith.  She takes everyday tasks and lifts them up with faith-filled reverence, such as:

• the practice of paying attention
• the practice of wearing skin
• the practice of encountering others
• the practice of pronouncing blessings

It’s helped me connect with the nebulous concept of “being present.”  Highly recommended.

7)  I’ll finish with a question for you.   What books have you enjoyed this summer?    I don’t mind if it’s inspirational or good summer garbage, I just think it’s fun to share what everyone thinks is a good read. 

So now, I’m off.

You too–seize the day!

It gets especially onerous in the summer, when there are so many more interesting things to do outside, and there are many more bodies around my house making messes every five minutes.  

Enter the 27 thing fling.  I learned it from Flylady, a get-your-house-in-order website with whom I have a fond but fickle relationship.

Here’s how we do it (slightly different from Flylady’s 27-fling boogie):

At some point each day, everyone in the house must drop what he/she is doing and put away, give away, or throw away 27 things.   They can be big or small, and no one judges what the other chooses to fling.  We might run around the house, picking up those random things that get dropped here and there, or we might tackle just one pile.  It could take three or thirty minutes. 

Why 27 things?  No reason, except that it’s a memorable number and enough to get rolling, but not burdensome enough to generate great resistance.  We all have other chores as well, but this one helps get to those little extras that sneak up on us.    It’s a quick pickup that nobody minds too much, and it’s enough to make a dent in the clutter.   

Want to know the best part?  Sometimes we fling 28, or even 31 things to complete a project.  Even I do, once in awhile. 

What tricks do you use to get chores done at your place?  Check out We Are THAT Family for more creative ideas. 

photo credit: Ro / wererabbit

Lisa

of

Cheerios Underfoot

Hooray for Lisa! 

You might want to check out her cool website, which includes lots of tips on parenting preschoolers, craft and art projects, homeschool resources, and more giveaways.  If you didn’t win here, you might try winning something at Lisa’s place, like the Kool-Aid Yarn Dyeing kit–way cool!   You may also order Writing Home here or enjoy Cindy’s daily writings at Cindy LaFerle’s Home Office. 

Thanks so much for entering and leaving your wonderful comments to support Cindy’s great work.  Make it a great day! 

photo credit: Daniel Gebhart