What a crock

I just read the most recent blog posting from the lady making a blog of advice to her daughter. Number 232 was "If you are privy to someone else’s secret, I advise you to keep it in confidence. But if you have a secret that’s gnawing you from the inside out, you can unload it onto me. I promise never to judge you, to keep your secret locked in the vault, and to respect your decision if you choose not to share it with me at all."

I have to say that I'm a little surprised that she's putting that big, fat, whopping lie right out there for her kid to come back and hold against her.

First off, I love you. I think you're incredible, smart, creative and sensitive. You are going to have a fascinating life and meet people who will change your life for better and for...not so much better.

So let me be honest. You tell me something that you've done with little to no use of your brilliant brain and/or exercising none of your self control and good judgement- OF COURSE I'M GOING TO JUDGE YOU.

But I'm still on your side.

I'm still here for you.

I will always be on your side and here for you.

I just may not agree with you or think that you are on the right path. It's my job as your mom to try and look past my bubble of "Kristi-world" (If you don't immediately get that, go ask your dad. I'm sure he'll be happy to explain.) and try to see what could be best for you.

It's YOUR job to be honest with yourself and me. And if at some point you have a secret that is weighing on you, you can talk to me. And unless you give me express instructions not to tell your father, he's probably going to know soon after. Because I'll tell him. He's one of my very best friends and the first one I go to with a problem, so unless you tell me otherwise- you dad will be in the loop. He is one the smartest, kindest, most loving Machiavellian people I know.

As for the friend's secret, I do know how to keep a confidence and would never encourage you to betray a friend- but if the information that you have is that heavy to carry.... you have options. You can talk to us in hypotheticals and get advice. You can call one of your Aunties and get advice if you think we're too close. Or go talk to a priest. Yes, I'm serious.

And if you do decide not to tell me, I will try to respect your decision. But I will ask that you cut me some slack if I automatically do not defer to your wishes to not be questioned. You're my kid. The walking, talking part of my heart that is roaming around this earth outside my body. I will always care and worry. So do your dear old mom a favor and throw me a bone. Tell me that you're working on it, or thinking about it and PROMISE me that you will come to us if you think it's getting out of control. BEFORE it (whatever it is) gets out of control. I will try hard to trust you to use your good judgement.

And we will be there for you. We promise. I just hope you and the poor kid from that other blog don't end up drinking coffee together somewhere and holding this all against us.

Its the thought that counts

It's starting to get warm. Which means that the world's most perfect summer food has made an appearance. Ice cream sandwiches.

Your dad and I were talking last night while the three of you were snuggled up together on the couch. Of all the things that we will say and do on our adventures, I hope that you come back to the United States with a great appreciation for some of our American ways and do not take for granted some of our nation's greatest treasures. Our system of government, our flawed but still impressive justice system, the ability of some to make something out of nothing in this great country, and most especially- our junk food.

Your Dad: "So this is all about the Rotel dip and ice cream sandwiches?"

Me: "Yes. Yes it is. "

Don't get me wrong, there are a million things that stunned and amazed me about the middle east. I enjoyed our time there, I loved seeing and doing new things that were completely alien to me. They forced me past my comfort zone and reminded me how blessed, lucky and sheltered I have been. They also reignited a love for home.

My parents. The ferry. Dad's garden. Church. Church in English. A casual conversation that I didn't have to translate. People who smile, just for smiling. Southern manners (although they've got nothing on Arab hospitality). Pork products.

So your dad and I sat talking about moving overseas, taking a few trips, our friends and I came to the last of my ice cream sandwich. The last bite of the HALF of the ice cream sandwich that we had shared. And as I held it up to him, he shook his head. So I felt the need to explain.

"You know my birthday? The one where you planned the dinner, got reservations, invited Kerry, Amy and Jamie? The one where you went to the jewelry store and found that beautiful tornado necklace that you surprised me with? This is on par with that. This offering of the last bite of the HALF of the ice cream sandwich is filled with as much love, caring and effort as that whole evening. Seriously, you know we can't have ice cream in the house. You sure you don't want it? Because this is some good stuff here."

So he ate it. I'm just worried that I've talked him out of good jewelry and he's going to give me a pint of Ben and Jerry's for next year's birthday.

Is that wrong?

We went to a birthday party for a one year old today. Good times, good times.

When one of the adults there asked Eleanor where she got her bruises on her legs, she answered, "Bar fight."

Whoops

We are not having a good day.

You and I need to talk.

Unfortunately, you are under the age of five and my reasoning has more to do with your prospects for getting into college improving exponentially if I don't trip and accidentally sell you all into white slavery.

That, and there is no way I could explain a camel and forty sheep to the neighbors.

HERE.

Baby steps, people

Whenever I hear a siren, I remember what one of the instructors in my driving class once said. "Those sirens are there for a reason. Those people are trying to get somewhere in a hurry to help someone. So get out of the way, it could your family. Your mother. Your father. Your grandmother. Get out of their way."

Since then, I've tried to say a small prayer that He would watch over not only those in trouble, but the first responders whenever I hear a siren. We started that in the car last year when Grace started saying her own prayers, a simple "Lord, please protect them." or "God, please help them." I firmly believe that while He listens to everyone, your prayers are the clearest and loudest.

So today, while we were sitting at an intersection about to get on I-95, all four of us strapped into seat belts with a movie going, a fire engine went by.

Me: Guys, can you say a prayer?

Grace: Lord, can you make that noise stop? It's too loud.

Nothing happened

I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop today. I was even a bit afraid to get us all in the car tonight because our day has gone so smoothly.

Nothing happened today. Nothing. The remainder of this will be a dry, boring, peaceful account of our lovely, dull day. You have been warned.

Your dad and I were up early, our resolution from the New Year still holding to go to bed early and try and get enough sleep. He needed to finish a few things for work that were on his mind and I wanted to spend some time getting our family back on track after my week of ick. Did my weekly check of the pantry, the empty freezer, the fridge and started planning our menus for the next few weeks and a few things to restock the freezer. Consulted the cookbooks, the sales and the coupons and got to spend some uninterrupted time making a master list.

You guys lingered in bed until well after 6:15 and we all snuggled for a while before you all requested your morning vitamins and started asking about pancakes. You and your dad made pancakes together and I headed up for a shower so that I wouldn't scare anyone when I hit the grocery store (unaccompanied!!!) later on.

I told you nothing happened.

After pancakes, you guys went with your dad to "help" him trim bushes in the gorgeous sunshine and I skipped off to the store and then sold your father's red truck on the way home to the man who did the inspection. You and your dad finished up your yard work while I made up the four pans of meatloaf, the brown-bag burritos and the four pans of lasagna to go in the freezer (happiness is knowing you can pull something out of the freezer and keep playing checkers).

The afternoon was filled with self made Nutella sandwiches on pancakes, melon, melon and more melon, another jaunt outside into the sunshine and naps. For dinner out with the family, we headed off to Costco where your dad purchased his current obsession, his ipod touch. And then we came home and everyone jumped into the bath except for Eleanor who went to bed in a fleecy, her t-shirt and socks because she fell asleep in the car and everyone knows you do not wake a sleeping Eleanor.

A quiet day. A slow, uneventful day. It was WONDERFUL.

You were warned.

Shut- ins

Yesterday Grace came running up the stairs to tell me that Eleanor had locked herself in the basement bathroom. The lock is not the standard turn-the-knob-unlock-the-door ones like the rest of the house, this one you actually have to turn the lock inside to get out and Eleanor was temporarily trapped. In only took a few seconds for me to find a quarter (to turn the lock like most bathroom stalls) so no one was panicking. But when I came down stairs Grace was standing with her hand on the bathroom door saying, "It's okay. It's okay. I'm here for you, Eleanor."

I'm totally taking credit for that.

Career Path

My twenty year old self and my 38 year old self were having a conversation today. My twenty year old self was standing there shaking her head like we were pathetic, looking all-knowing and skinny in her size 6 jeans and bad shoes. We spent the day trying to come back from almost a week of my feeling awful and lying on the couch- I was sick and woozy and spent my last five days holding court with a flurry of Kleenex.

Today was all about smells. Getting rid of the sick smells, the trash smells, the dirty smells, the musty odor, the dog smells and the I'm-not-sure-where-that-smell-is-coming-from smells. So I cleaned. I changed beds, I scoured bathrooms, I cleaned out toy boxes, I tossed closets. And I was so joyful to get these things accomplished that my twenty year old self was wondering why we went to college at all.

I think about where my life is going and I know this NOTHING like what I imagined. It's better.

I wanted a job I would love, a job where I was rewarded and compensated accordingly. I wanted to do something meaningful, to travel and the chance for advancement. I wanted to one day retire and live happily ever after.

I got all of that and more. Let's face it- I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. The Financial Counseling is going to be there waiting in the wings and I think it will be a very good fit for me. But for right now, we're thinking about Oman, overseas, the house and a few other things that are going to take us on another path for a few years. I may grouse about the chores and the daily tasks, but I smile over a hundred times a day. Real, genuine, oh-my-goodness-my-heart-is-gushing smiles. I would choose you and your dad again and again.

In the meantime, I've got a few words for the skinny, know it all cow in the jeans. It's just going to take me a few days to get them all together.