Quote of the Week

"Don't live in that mythical land of 'Oneday Isle.'

Manage your time NOW and don't always promise

yourself you'll do it One Day. Today is the day!"

~ Dennis "Doc" Hensley ~

Image by: Ilsaa

The Middle and Me

I don't mean to whine, but I never get to watch real T.V. Even though I work out of my home, I'm at my computer all day and in the evenings it seems I'm always doing stuff till 10:00 p.m. or later. Exhausted, I'll eventually flop down on the sofa to simultaneously read a book and watch reruns of Friends, Seinfeld or The Office.

I've randomly caught a few episodes of popular shows, but I am never able to contribute knowledgeably to conversations with my friends whenever they begin discussing the most recent episode of Glee or whatever.

Last Friday evening we were actually home for a change. I dragged out the laundry basket full of clean laundry that had needed folding for two days and proceeded to turn on the television for something to look at while I performed this mundane task. The "Homecoming" episode of The Middle was just starting. I vaguely recalled friends describing this show as funny so I flipped it on. My hubs wandered in and sat down to watch it with me.

It was pretty good, had a quirky sort of humor and I smiled during a few parts, but I wasn't positive I'd be drawn to watching it again until this scene hit. And by the time it finished, my hubs and I were laughing so hard we were doubled up. Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

Oh my gosh! This is ME! This mom (Patricia Heaton) IS ME!!




I've said it before and I'll say it again. I know there is an unwritten rule against doing this, but please don't tell me it's not every mom's impulse to do exactly what Frankie did! We're just forced to quash that impulse for the sake of not embarrassing our baby—er, teen.

I've been forcibly (but politely) held back from rushing the field by baseball coaches and have managed to get other soccer parents to go check on my son during games when he appears to be in pain. Oh yeah. I'm that mom. I'm definitely tuning in next week!

Just curious, can any other moms out there relate? Have you ever "accidentally" embarrassed your child at a public event?

Quote of the Week

"If Columbus had an advisory committee

he would probably still be at the dock."

~ Arthur Goldberg ~

Image by: Conspiracy of Happiness

Excuses, Excuses

My son is considering taking lifeguard lessons to boost his summer job marketability. He's not on the swim team, but he's a confident swimmer. I find this amusing considering his rocky initiation into the underwater world.

I am a terrible swimmer. When I took swimming lessons the custom was: If you didn't jump in by yourself, they threw you in. Sink or swim, baby.

I sank.

To this day the smell of chlorine makes me nauseous.

Not wanting my children to be equally as traumatized, I sought out kind, nurturing swim instructors who would introduce my children to the skill of swimming in a gentle, loving manner. Mrs. H. taught private swim lessons in her own pool each summer. I signed up my daughter Ashleigh first. Within six lessons she went from barely getting her hair wet to executing a lovely front crawl. Mrs. H. was perfect! She was nurturing and kind, yet firm—in a loving way—when she needed to be.

Anxious for my son to benefit from this woman's incredible teaching skills, I signed Joshua up the next summer. Secure in her embrace, he did gentle dunkings beneath the surface of the water, just as his sister had done, and held onto Mrs. H.'s arms as he happily practiced kicking his little legs. But when the day finally came for him to jump into the pool on his own…

NO WAY.

His little arms clung to the side of the pool in a death grip. No amount of kindness, gentleness, cajoling or bribery would pry that kid loose. Then loving, gentle, nurturing Mrs. H. uttered the words that sent me spiraling back in time and I experienced my own personal version of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder.

"Sweetheart, if you don't jump in on your own, I'm going to have to throw you in."

What?! Was she serious? My gut clenched.

Josh just shook his little head and held on even tighter.

I sat, frozen, as Mrs. H. climbed from the pool. I wanted to stop her. To say something! But my mouth and throat went dry as paper towel.

"I don’t want to jump in. NO! Noooooo!" my little guy cried.

"Yes, sweetheart."

I could feel my own heart race as she detached his skinny arms and lifted him from the pool.

"Hold your breath, honey."

"Noooooo—"

Glug.

I leaped to my feet, complete panic galvanizing me into action. Although I lacked swimming skills, I prepared to dive in and save my baby when his dark head suddenly bobbed to the surface and he dog-paddled the few feet back to the edge.

Mrs. H. looked down at him.

Josh wiped his nose and looked up at her, grinning. "Can we do that again?"

I sank back down, slack jawed, he LIKED it?! Was he nuts?

Mrs. H. dropped him in several more times that day and he LOVED it. The nut!

Remembering this story got me thinking metaphorically again. What happened with Josh is what happens to a lot of us when it comes to our private goals and dreams--like my desire to write novels (published novels!). Maybe you have the same desire to write, or you'd like to go back to school or make a career change. We happily kick around in that dream stage. But when the moment comes to actually dive in, we balk. Sure, we've got loads of great excuses. Life is too busy. Now is not a good time. We don't have the money right now. But what it really boils down to is fear. Fear of failure? Fear of success?

So we procrastinate.

I was blessed with the equivalent of a psychological toss into the pool from a writing class I took. Now I've got a finished first draft of my novel to show for it and I'm swimming my way through revisions. What about you? Do you have a secret dream you've kept tucked away, hidden from everyone's view—including your own? What's stopping you from jumping in?
Image by: Grace Family

Quote of the Week

“It’s a funny thing about life;

if you refuse to accept anything but the best,

you very often get it.”

~ Somerset Maugham ~

Image by: Tell Jeeves

What I Learned From the Girl in Last Place

My daughter ran for her high school cross-country team for three years. Up until that point my only experience with sports involved watching my kids play traditional "team" sports like soccer, baseball, basketball, etc. I'd sit on the sidelines cheering obnoxiously for my child's team and shouting much-appreciated suggestions to the referees.

It wasn’t until I attended my daughter's first cross-country meet, however, that I witnessed true team spirit and discovered an interesting metaphor between a cross-country runner and my writing life. And it was all because of the girl in last place.

In case you're unfamiliar with cross-country races, they’re 5K races that are run…well, across country. Through woods, over fields, up hills, down hills, in the pouring rain, under the beating sun, occasionally even through snowstorms. These runners are relentless. They are powerful. They are awe-inspiring.

During that first race, runners flew by the waiting crowds at different points along the route. I was surprised then delighted by the reactions of the spectators. EVERY parent of EVERY team cheered for EVERY runner. It was such a refreshing change from the usual "Hurrah my team," "Boo your team" and stay on your side of the 50-yd. line please.

Eventually, spectators converged along either side of the finish line. Amid cheers, the top runners sprinted past, followed by clusters of mid-level runners and finally the slower runners straggled in. Several minutes passed and figuring the race was over, I went to find my daughter. Then I heard someone say, "I see her. Here she comes." Curious, I squeezed back into the crowd and squinted up the trail. Sure enough, one lone runner topped the hill in the distance. Coming in dead last, she continued her run at a slow, rhythmic pace.

She entered that final stretch and the crowd--which hadn't moved--went wild. Whistles, cheers and thunderous applause followed in her wake. I felt ridiculous tears well up in my eyes. I didn't even know this girl. But the sense of accomplishment that shone from her face as she crossed that finish line was like the glow of a candle flame filling a once darkened room.

Later, I asked my daughter about the girl and learned that she was a much-loved team member who almost always came in last place. This girl's single-minded goal was to finish every race and achieve her personal best, no matter what anybody else did.

I tried to imagine what that must be like. To stand ready at the starting line of a race and know you will not win. That you will most likely lose, and lose big. Yet to show up race after race and run anyway. And finish. Despite what the scorebook says, the girl in last place is the true winner. And I use her philosophy as inspiration in my writing life.

I'm just finishing up the first draft of my first attempt at writing a novel on my own. And I now realize that writing my novel is much like running a cross-country race. (For one thing, it's much harder than it looked from the sidelines!) And I used to think that crossing the finish line meant getting it published. (Still something I plan to do!) But I take joy in the simple process of creating. And I take great pride in finishing this first draft. Many of my writer friends may have started running the race after me and yet are far ahead of me on the trail, but I hold the image of that girl in my mind. No matter what anybody else is doing, I will continue to run my own race, continue striving for my personal best. I will finish. And when I do, I win.




Image by: Dru Bloomfield

Quote of the Week

"Failure really isn't terrible if you can say to yourself, hey, I know I'm gonna be successful at what I want to do someday. Failure doesn't become a big hang-up then because it's only temporary. If failure is absolute, then it would be a disaster, but as long as it's only temporary you can just go and achieve almost anything."

~ Jerry Della Femina ~

 
 
Image by: dam