What's in your disc player?

I think my daughter is actually excited about our vacation.

It was 'touch and go' for a while there. She wants to see the ocean. We're not doing that this year. We're going to see hills instead. Which did not please her at first.

However, the other night, she had an attitude adjustment.

It all started at dinner, when we were discussing some of our plans for the trip. At one point the topic of music came up.

"I could make a mix CD for us to listen to on the way there!" my daughter said. My hubby, (whose musical tastes are NOT the same as those of a fifteen year old girl) promptly piped up with, "I ain't listening to that stuff you listen to the whole way there!"
(He doesn't have the grammar skills of a forty two year old woman either!)

My daughter cracked up at his statement. And she determined then and there that "I ain't listening to that stuff!" would be the title of the mix CD. She's been working on it for the past 3 days now. I think she said yesterday that it would actually be a boxed set of three CD's. Vol. 1-3 of "I ain't listening to that stuff!"

I gave her some suggestions for songs that her father would listen to and it's been funny watching her select the music for our vacation.

Music has been a vital part of my life since I was eight years old or so. That's when I got the 45 record player and my Mom's collection of 45's. I hadn't heard of any of the artists before, and didn't know that there was an A side (the 'hit song') and a B side of a 45. I played the songs with the most interesting titles.

I distinctly remember coming across a song called "Chicken Necks". It was by two guys called Don and Juan. I put the needle on the record and in an instant was captivated by them. The lyrics were incredibly funny to me. "...chicken necks is all I eat!" was just one phrase in the song.

I loved it. It made me laugh. And so I played it a lot.

One day I'm in my bedroom, singing at the top of my voice with Don and Juan about their precious chicken necks, when Mom walks in.

"What are you listening to?" she asks.

"You should know," I reply. "It's your record!" She goes over to the record player and picks up the 45. "I never listened to this!" she claimed. "I listened to the song on the other side. What's Your Name. That was their hit song."

I had no idea I wasn't listening to the 'hit'!. Friends, I listened to the 'hit song'...and I must confess...Chicken Necks was WAY BETTER! The other song didn't make me laugh. And, it did NOT have a beat you could dance to...

Lately I've felt that I've been listening to the 'wrong side of the record'. I've been struggling with some big changes in my life, and not handling them as well as I'd hoped. The '45's' in my head weren't the music I needed to hear. We can get so caught up with the negative side of life that we have a hard time focusing on the positive. When I heard my husband declare, "I ain't listening to that stuff!", it made me remember that I have a choice regarding the 'voice' I listen to each day. I can listen to the 'stuff I don't want to listen to'...the negative one...or I can choose the positive B side of the 45.

My friends, choose wisely in your circumstances. You can choose to be upset with your family because you can't go to the ocean or you can turn that frown upside down by finding something to focus on that gives you joy. Like making a mix CD for your family. You can go with the crowd and listen to the boring hit song or you can dance the day away to a rousing rendition of "Chicken Necks". It's up to you.

Plant Pondering

I have several things planted in my vegetable garden. There's cucumbers, tomatoes and weeds. I've got onions, peppers and weeds. Oh, and some green beans, lettuce and weeds.

Okay, so I didn't technically plant weeds, but for crying out loud! How do they get in there?! I did not put them there! And how do they manage to grow so quickly when the rest of my garden seems to take YEARS to grow?

It's a mystery that my little Nancy Drew brain can't seem to get a clue about weeds.

While we're on the subject though, here's another thing I can't stand about them. You have got to keep pulling them or they'll take over the garden. Some weeds, I've noticed, are somewhat easy to get rid of...but others are tough! I've tried pulling some weeds that I would swear have been taking steroids and have a greater muscle mass than I do!

Weeds are sneaky as well. Some of them disguise themselves to look like a vegetable plant. I pulled one the other day that had a reddish root on it and thought I'd pulled a radish up! Conniving weeds...trying to trick us into thinking that they are 'good' for us...when they're not.

Ask any of my gardener friends and they'll tell you to get rid of those weeds when they're small. Because once they're well-rooted, you have to really work to pull them out. Sigh. Some days it's almost discouraging for me to go out to the garden because the first thing I'll notice is the weeds. Not the plants. I sigh heavily as I consider the hard work ahead of me. I'll think, "Why did I plant this stupid garden in the first place? It's WORK!" Sometimes I think that my garden is the ONLY one out there with weeds. Some days I just want to think about eating those Big Boy tomatoes with some bacon and lettuce. I don't want to think about putting on gloves and getting dirty pulling weeds. Where's the fun in that?

You know, our lives could be compared to a vegetable garden. Let me ask this: How do you handle the weeds in your life? Are there some little, niggly weeds that you find you have to routinely pull out? Are there some that look like they're beneficial plants but aren't? Maybe you've got some really tough, tall weeds in your garden that you can't seem to pull out on your own because the roots are so deep. You might want to get the help of another gardener for those. One thing is for sure: regardless of the size of our gardens, or how long we've had a garden, we all need a weed whacking system in place!

Because every garden has weeds...I'm off to my garden now. You know, maybe I'll try pushing those weeds instead of pulling them. I might get a better workout that way!!

I'm positive that you're my only hope!

My blood type is B Positive.

Or, as I like to call it...the optimistic blood type. And I'm not sure it's the one I should have, due to my personality. You see, most days I feel like, 'I'm A Negative person. But I try to B Positive.'

Yeah, some scientist out there has a really, weird sense of humor.

Recently my mother had to get some blood before she has a surgical procedure. We were talking about our blood types and we were trying to figure out, on our own, which ones were the universal donors and which ones were rare, etc. Very fascinating stuff, I know! When I got her home, I went to Wikipedia and found some information on blood types.

Because that's the kind of geek I am!

I wanted more information. I wanted to know the facts. I wanted to have more control over a situation than I felt I had. Knowledge is power, and I felt a little powerless about how to help my Mom at the moment.

After I found the answers to the questions we were looking for (and I'm not going to bore you with those here, you can find the answers on your own!), I started to surf for something to watch on her tv.

And I came across Star Wars. The first movie. The one that all of us over the age of thirty refer to as "Star Wars".

It had just begun. And I stayed there a moment, watching R2D2 and C3PO get across the laser fire-filled hallway to the other side...you know, where they meet up with the princess.

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

Don't know who Obi-Wan is? Don't understand why he's Princess Leia's only hope? Then I suggest you try Wookieepedia, the Star Wars Wiki.

Because that's the kind of geek I am!

Wow...talk about pressure! Her 'only hope'. Princess Leia was trying to fix a situation, and put her hope into the one person she could think of that could help her. And if anyone could handle pressure like that, it was Obi-Wan.

So often, my friends, we will put our hope into things that really can't, in the long one, fix or control our situation. We rely on money, or jobs, or people that aren't Obi-Wan. And we end up disappointed. Disappointed when we lose that job, when the relationship ends, when we try to give blood and find out that our iron count is too low and so we can't give that day and we have to come back another day, but it's okay because at least now we know what our blood type is, right?

It's hard to be positive when you're in the midst of disappointment. When you're wanting to fix or control something that requires more than the resources you have available. Negativity can rush right in, can't it?

Don't give up. When you're down and disappointed, stay hopeful. There is One, my friends, who can handle things WAY BETTER than Obi-Wan. That's one thing I am positive about...! New hope may be just the thing you need!

Incidentally, when they came out with the newer Star Wars films, they began calling "Star Wars" something else. They began calling it "A New Hope".

I learned that from Wookieepedia.

Not just a job...but an adventure!

Babies are cute for a reason.

That's their hook. That's how they 'get' you. They use that cuteness to their advantage.

Babies are sneaky. You know why? Because they turn into teenagers...need I say more?

Yeah, okay. I'll say more. This past weekend, we just bought our daughter her first car. As we're signing the papers on it, I'm looking at her and thinking, "When did she get so old? Just yesterday, we were in KFC and she announced to the entire restaurant that she'd just 'gone potty like a big girl'. I wish I was Superman so I could turn back time because it's moving past me way too fast and...wait, how much did that salesman say registration costs? Wow! When did I get so old?"

As a mother of a driving teen, I am now aware of two things: 1) it won't be long before my daughter's out on her own. And b) she better be wearing clean underwear...in case she's in an accident.

Why can I say things like that? Because I'm the Mom...that's why!

Part of a Mom's job is to say things that seem to contradict themselves. Sit down! Sit up! Look at me when I'm talking to you! Don't look at me like that!

Motherhood is a continuous contradiction, isn't it? I can't tell you how many times I've tried to explain subtle differences to my children. Like how caterpillars and butterflies are the same but different and how sour cream and sour milk is different...but the same.

Motherhood is not an easy job. We have so much information to share and so little time to share it. Do my kids know that it's better to give than to receive? Do they know that a penny saved is a penny earned? Do they know who is in Grant's tomb and how to spell Mississippi the 'fun way'? Perhaps most importantly, do they know how to separate whites from colors in the laundry so that they don't end up with pink underwear?

I guess it doesn't really matter what color it is...so long as it's clean, right?

My friends, take a moment this week to thank your Mom for all of her hard work. And Moms, don't be too hard on yourselves. You've done the best you can with those cute babies.

Gratituesday...(or The Day I counted my threads!)

So this morning I woke up and considered my warm bed for a moment. Rubbed my feet together and found myself thinking about the way the sheets feel on them. 'Mmmm...that feels nice. I wonder what the thread count is on these sheets? Just what exactly is a 'thread count' anyways...I mean, who's got time to count threads? Apparently Egyptians do...because they're usually listed on the sheet tags. 'Sheet tags'...is that even a real phrase? Why am I even awake? Most importantly, why am I asking myself all these questions?'

That's when I decided to be quiet in my head for a moment and listen. I heard the dog snoring softly from the foot of the bed. I heard my daughter's music as she opened her bedroom door and went into the bathroom. I heard a mourning dove cooing. Trucks and cars going to work (or home) on the highway nearby.

What a lot of stuff to ponder upon in just 30 seconds or so...not big things, any of them...just small fragments...little details of my life.

Which got me to thinking about what I'm grateful for today.

Gratitude does not come easy for me. While my manners (I will thank you for giving me something!)have taught me to vocalize gratitude to people, I do not easily 'count my blessings'. So often I take things for granted, or wish for things I do not have. I think hard about my needs...my wants...others needs and their wants. I pray about these things, thinking that somehow maybe...that counts as gratitude.

But to be able to lay in my bed for half a minute and think about all the small things I would miss if they were not here...and thank God for them...was a really great (grateful!) way to start my day.

My friends, if you are having trouble finding things to be thankful for...start with something easy...something small. Something as simple as...oh...I don't know...toilet paper, maybe? I am SOOOOO thankful for toilet paper. And lilacs. And comfy beds...and thread counts.

Count your 'threads' today. :)

Strike a Pose

Once upon a time while channel surfing,
(Go on, admit it. All of the best stories begin with those words!)

Once upon a time, while I clicked my way around the television world, I came across a show I had never seen before. It was mesmerizing, full of color and exotic locations, and major fights.

No, it wasn't the UFC. Or Dora the Explorer.

It was America's Next Top Model. Three minutes in and I was hooked. You see, it's a reality show about super model wannabe's and their quest to become the Next Cover Girl Extraordinaire. Just the type of show a middle aged, rural gal like myself needs when she wants to 'get away from the mundane'.

Like most reality shows, there are challenges and eliminations. Sure, there's superficiality. And griping, whining, backstabbing and namecalling...but during the major photo shoot you get a chance to see who really takes modeling seriously.

And who's just another pretty, pretending face.

There is a part of me that has secretly wanted to be a model. And on a hot summer day when I was about seventeen, I got a taste of what that life might be like.

My youth group went to Great America near Chicago for rollercoaster fun filled with long lines and sunburned faces. Boy, it was HOT that day! At one point, just to get into some air conditioning, I ventured into a photo booth where for a sum equivalent to a college education you could have your picture put on the cover of a 'real' magazine.

I was the queen of the magazine realm at that age. I read Teen Beat and Tiger Beat and Seventeen and 16 Magazine...just to name a few. Why, I'd even peruse some of my mother's mags, even if I didn't care about recipes or the color of my current window treatments.

So I decided to have my image pasted onto the cover of Teen Beat. "COVER STAR LOOKING FOR LOVE!" read the headline. "COULD YOU BE THE ONE?"

The photographer had me do this ridiculous pose where one arm was up over my head and the other was beckoning. After what felt like several months of turning and gazing and standing still and moving quickly the final picture was taken. However, while I felt like I was trying to direct traffic rather than attempting to seek out that 'special guy', the picture turned out pretty good.

And I learned something valuable from that photo session. America's Next Top Model, while it may have some serious flaws as a form of entertainment, does get one thing right.

Modeling is HARD WORK! And actions very often speak louder than words...

Take my job as a parent. Or a daughter. Or a wife. PLEASE! (nyuk, nyuk, nyuk)

All kidding aside here, the times I've been beautifully successful in those jobs (or when I've extremely failed at them) were NOT the times that I simply talked or yelled or instructed. They were the times I MODELED good or bad behavior. The times that showed others how to do the right or wrong thing.

If my children hear me say that they should be giving and generous, but never see me actually do that for someone-it's less effective. And if I tell my husband to respect me, but don't show him what respect can look like-I'm not helpful. You see, we are the ones in front of a camera, my friends. We are the ones who wake up each day for a full photo shoot.

We are America's Next Top Model.

We just don't call ourselves that name, do we? I mean, let's face it. That's a huge responsibility. Bigger even than working for Maybelline or Gucci.

This week I encourage you to consider treating people the way that you would like to be treated. Not just thinking about doing something, or considering the consequences involved if something doesn't happen...but ACTION. Your children watch you, your employees watch you, the public watches you. Whether you believe it or not, someone is channel surfing your life every day...make sure that what they're seeing is worth a second look.

Like daughter, like mother?

My daughter has recently begun to mock my vocabulary.

A friend of mine tells me, "We mock what we do not understand."

Hm. I thought that my daughter understood me, for the most part. Perhaps the problem is that she just doesn't understand why I like using big words. Or different words. Or something besides, "IDK, wut r u doin' 2day? Txt me! C u l8r!"

Sometimes I don't understand her, but I should get an "A" for trying! I've read Japanese manga books from back cover to front cover. I've tolerated Lady GaGa blaring from the tiny, tinny speakers of her iPod earbuds. I hit 384 garage sales the summer between her first and second grade, just because she had decided that all she was going to wear was dresses. And I've made myself a willing listener to her recount Who Knows How Many dramatic moments of her life. (That, my friends, is not easy to do. Let's face it, the girl can talk so quickly and so loudly that, at some point in the conversation, only dogs can hear her.)

Me? I normally just nod my head and smile wanly.

("wanly" is exactly the kind of word I use that H. would mock!)

It's not fair. I worked so hard in those early years of her life to teach her to speak. So that we could have mind-blowing discussions and giggle over 'girl stuff'. I know I'm good at teaching speech because The Family Dog and I can have a great, earnest conversation about things like our yard's rabbit population or the current state of world economics.

But talking to my teen-aged daughter?

Rut roh, Raggy.

I can't win. Oh, I've tried to speak 'at her level'. "Waz up, G? Are you chillin' with your gnomies?"

All that got me was a withering look and a huffy sigh.

Still, you can't blame a gal for trying!

I needed some help. So I went to my own mother for advice. Unfortunately, that turned into a rousing debate of Medicare Part Z and a heated discussion over the values of fresh, frozen or canned peas.

My head was spinning and as I got ready to leave, Mom asked, "Waz up, G? Are you chillin' with your gnomies?"

I felt oddly reassured. And reminded myself of how much I love both of those amazing women in my life.

My friends, sometimes the very people we share a home with are the hardest to get to know. I encourage you to take some time today and sit down with them and listen even if you only end up smiling wanly. It'll be worth it, I promise!

Thanks for reading!