Archive for May, 2006
Protected: Garden vs Sock Girl
Published May 28, 2006 Uncategorized Enter your password to view commentsA friend is going through something right now and I know those of us who read her blog are sending good thoughts. We love her and her family, and I know that we as a group are sending collective wishes that whatever it is she is experiencing, that the resolution is positive.
And, as I was driving around thinking about her, I started considering collective wishes and the power of positive thoughts (and prayers) of others. I’ve been pondering whether I believed that thoughts alone could, in fact, influence a situation for another human being. Here is what I’ve come up with…
There have been situations in my life where things have felt pretty darn hopeless. And through those times, no matter how bleak and heartbreaking they were, I have known that if I simply asked my group of friends or family to send me good thoughts/prayers, they would do so without even knowing what my situation was. Somewhere in the world someone cared enough about me to close their eyes and wish. And whether or not the cosmos felt the wish, I did. It may not have changed the situation, but knowing I was supported was very powerful. There is power in wishing for others on several levels, I think.
I have learned that if I cannot change a situation, there is little point expending prolonged stress on it. Some things in life just are and (sadly) no amount of wishing will change them. But some things are greatly influenced by our own internal strength… how we cope with what is dealt us, and what we take away from situations. And wishes from others can greatly enhance a person’s internal strength and positive perspective.
I have also become aware that sometimes very small gestures of kindness can make a tremendous impact on someone. Maybe it’s an unexpected note. Maybe it’s a box of just the right thing at just the right time. Maybe it’s just a kind word. Each of those things is actually an expression of a wish for another person. “Hey other person, I’m thinking of you. And I wish nice things for you”
The other day Rainbow tried to explain to me the correct way to make a wish. You see, in her mind, she had grown bigger simply by wishing it to be so. That, to her, makes her some kind of wish expert. According to her, if my wishes aren’t coming true, I simply haven’t been wishing long enough or hard enough. It can be done you see, and she is the proof of that.
I am reminded of a card that I once framed and kept on my desk. It said “Miracles come in all shapes and sizes and happen to those who believe in them.” Sometimes, a wish from someone else is all it takes to help you believe.
This morning our local Freecycle list contained a post from a lesbian couple seeking a sperm donor. Then, all heck broke loose.
First someone complained that they couldn’t post a pet but this gets posted.
Then the moderator verified that it was not allowed on the list and alluded to the immorality of it.
Then those defending it noted that the purpose of Freecycle was to keep good stuff out of landfills yet there isn’t a lot of sperm cluttering up landfills (never mind that it’s more likely compost, but I digress).
Then post after post people responded that people shouldn’t respond – that they should just acknowledge it was an error and move on.
Yet post after post they didn’t bother to clip the original message. Brilliant. Never mind whether they think it’s ethical or not to request such a thing on Freecycle (personally I have more opinions on whether using the venue of Freecycle for it was smart or not than I do on the morality of it), but for opponents to continue to repost what they are averse to because they couldn’t be bothered to use the delete key was a good day’s amusement in itself. By my guess their request was posted about a half dozen times. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad venue after all.
She stood before a rack of Mother’s Day cards for a long time without moving. Row upon row of Mother’s Day wishes with little pastel envelopes stared back at her. “Neener neener neener” they almost seemed to call. She took a sharp breath and reached for one – pink with a rose border – and opened it. She skimmed its verse and replaced it. Her fingers skimmed the row and choose another – red with M-O-M spelled out in ornate gold script. This one, apparently more suitable, would be her choice as she reached to grab the plain white envelope that accompanied it. When she did, her hand paused over the “Mother to Be” cards. It was only for a moment, but enough to show those nosey enough to be watching, that she was not, in fact, a mother at the moment, but she wanted to be. She took the envelope and quickly wiped a tear as she walked to the cash.
It strikes me that there is a huge segment of the population who is hurting today. Those who desperately long to be mothers, but for whatever reason are not. They don’t make a Hallmark for that. One that says, “This sucks… I wish like heck your dream would come true for you because you’d be a really fabulous Mom.” They need a card like that.
To L and G and D, and anyone who has paused for a painful moment over the Mom to Be cards, I thought of you all day.
xo
How to tell your husband longs for a big screen tv….
I took the girls shoe shopping tonight as they are in need of sandals for the warmer weather. We visited a department store that will remain nameless, given the number of people who claim never to grace their greeted doors.
Dolittle was easy. Done in about 5 seconds. She just wanted, at least originally, flip flops. That said, I probably could have made her the happiest little lady on the planet if I had fulfilled her wish for the 4 inch Cinderella numbers, but could you just imagine strolling home from school with a book bag in those clear plastic bejewelled stilletos?
Having said that, I did discover that Dolittle has wonderful taste in shoes for me. As I was working with Rainbow (more on that in a moment), Dolittle came up to me with about eight different pairs saying, “These would be great for you Mom!” And I even felt compelled to try most of them on. She is definitely going with me the next time I actually need shoes.
Now Rainbow, was a whole different ballgame. She is not allowed to wear flip-flops to kindergarten (presumably it’s too hard to run around and keep on the little feet on park field trips), so we were definitely looking for something which strapped in the tootsies. Further, she was convinced they had to be pink. And pretty. Sparkly would be a nice touch as well. And high heels would be even better. Right. Standard kindergarten footwear.
She must have rejected 80% of the store’s sandal stock, and found the remaining 19.5% uncomfortable or for some reason not quite perfect enough. Finally, when I was about ready to just cave and suggest another store, she spots a pair of white relatively flat sandals with a silver flower. They have sizes 11, 13 and 1. She is a size 12.
She grabs a size 1 and zooms over to the little stool, bubbling over with excitement at the find (surprising given the flat heal, white color, and stark lack of pink sequins, but apparently a silver flower must trump all those things). “They’re perfect!” she states. Now, I’ve been through this before. She becomes so anxious to actually get her pair, that she decides a pair of ill-fitting shoes (either too small or too large) are the perfect pair, then she gets them home and never wears them again. It makes me crazy. So, given that the size 13 is actually one size closer to her size, I pass her them and tell her they are, in fact, exactly the right size. She tries them on. She walks up the aisle. She walks down another. Then she comes back to where I am and sits down on the floor at my feet.
“They may be my size,” she replies thoughtfully, “but they are giving my feet high blood pressure.”
Being unable to form a lucid argument to her point, I added the size 1’s to the cart and paid for the new footwear. I hope tomorrow is particularly warm, because I have no doubt there will be significant pressure to wear the new shoes. Hopefully, the foot blood pressure remains stable with wear 
As I’ve noted in a previous post, I frequently feel very frumpy. I’ve just found a cure.
Navigate yourself over to www.myheritage.com and upload a photo of yourself. Apparently (according to that site) I look like these celebrities:
Neve Campbell
Denise Richards
Christina Ricci
Jodi Foster
Rachel Leigh Cook
I have to say, I’m feeling MUCH better about myself now
I was scheduled to have a root canal today. Doesn’t that sound fun!?
Anyway, with nothing upon which to frame a reference, I fretted and worried, and imagined all sorts of medieval torture devices. Finally, the appointed hour arrives, and I sucked up the gumption to just get it over with.
That’s when things get interesting. I notice that there are no traffic lights as I head downtown. I park, feed the meter, and stroll on over to dental office. And when I get there, Dentist is sitting in the waiting room reading the newspaper. The power just went out. (It had also gone out all across PEI this last Saturday, so it wasn’t such a surprise I suppose… but can you imagine if he had been drilling or poking or whatever it is he was going to do when that happened? I shudder just thinking about it).
So I wait. And I wait. And finally they decide to reschedule as they need two full hours to provide all the fun they have planned for my mouth. I book my appointment to return Friday morning, and I head back to my car. On the way back to the office I notice the traffic lights are working again. And store lights are on. And back at the office, things are in the usual chaos that ensues when power is restored after a disruption has created havoc on the network. This essentially means that sometime between the moments of walking out of the dentist’s office and back to the car, all power was restored. Which begs the following questions…
- Was my aversion to root canals so strong the psychic vibration knocked out the power?
- Is this an omen that I really should avoid this procedure altogether?
- Or is this just the kind of luck I seem to have… prolonged agony and all that?
Thoughts?
Rainbow & Dolittle have broken into their piggy banks so I took them to Dollarama to get some coin roller thingies. Each girl was also allowed to pick one thing for herself. After painstakingly long deliberation and countless mind changes, Rainbow picked some shocking pink feathered hair gizmo and Dolittle chose a pack of small hair clips. All items were piled into my little wire basket and I headed to the checkout. That’s when it happened…
I felt my basket suddenly become slightly heavier and looked inside to find about 6 chocolate bars in with the coin roller thingies. Then I felt a little poke in the back. I turned around and see this strange man two people behind me. His cart is full of stuff, he looks at me, and he winks. It feels wierd. I turn back to my basket and reach in to remove the bars. “Oh I’m going to pay for those,” he yells up to me as I pass them to the cashier. “No he isn’t,” I said to the clerk, “we don’t want them.” “It was a good try, wasn’t it girls,” he says to Rainbow & Dolittle loud enough for me to hear, as if they know all about his big candy plan. I look at them and they look positively baffled. I look at him and he winks again. I wish I had something pointy to stick in that freaky eye so it would never wink again.
We pay for our purchases, and leave. As we are walking back to the car Rainbow asks me, “why did that man want to buy us chocolate?” Darn good question, kiddo. “It was certainly unusual,” I said to her, “but we must never take candy from strangers, right?” “Right,” she replies. “Or anything else,” Dolittle adds. “Right,” Rainbow replies again.
So, yes… we had a good exchange about strangers out of the whole experience, but I have to say I still feel like I need a shower after the whole thing. I mean, yes, I have adorable children (if I say so myself), but who tries to buy strange kids candy right under their parents nose and then winks at them like they’re in on some secret ? I mean, even if it were just some person wanting to do something nice for some little kids, wouldn’t it be better to strike up a conversation with their parent and explain that? Maybe it’s just me.
Anyway, we fastened assorted new hair clips to the respective little heads and finished up evening’s shopping at the grocery store. And the entire time I felt the compelling need to keep both children in my sight at all times. Fortunately, it is a lot easier to keep an eye on your kid’s whereabouts when they are sporting shocking pink feather hair gizmos.
