The Best Husband

It is my 19th wedding anniversary, and I have the best husband on earth. A few months back I wrote the post below, and I couldn’t resist reminding myself, and everyone who might stop by this page today, how wonderful he truly is:

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Flowers for a Reason

In Husbands, Life, Love, Marriage on August 30, 2009 at 1:29 pm

I was going to start off writing that my husband bought me a bouquet of  flowers today for no reason, but then I thought about it and realized that this just wasn’t true. I mean, it isn’t our anniversary, or my birthday, and there was no need to “make up”, but he still bought them.

He said he was going to Home Depot for a quick minute, which is typical when he is working on a project at the house, so I didn’t even really say goodbye. I had other things going on at that moment, and I think all I said was, “OK.”

He had been gone around 30 minutes, but since my separation anxiety stage has long since evaporated after nearly 19 years of marriage, I hadn’t noticed the time. The kids were playing in the yard and I was talking on the phone with my mother, when I heard our van drive up outside. I didn’t run to the door to greet him, like I might have many years ago. I just stayed where I was and continued talking, but through the screen door it looked like he had more than a Home Depot bag in his hands, and he had a bigger grin on his face than usual.

Walking in, he presented me with a simple but beautiful floral arrangement. I asked him what it was for, and he replied, “No reason.”

I finished up my call and gave him a big hug. I thanked him for the flowers and he said, “Well, if I had waited until we could afford it, I might never have gotten them.” (Flowers are something we’ve always agreed to as being an extravagance).

Then, I put my bouquet in some water, he went back to his project, and the kids went on doing what they were doing. Nothing in our day changed, except that I had gotten flowers — a sweet reminder that my husband is very much in love with me, and that he still thinks about me when he is lost in a project or even on a trip to Home Depot.

Yes, I got flowers for a reason.

My minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now

The Forty Year

It’s New Year’s Day, and I thought, “Yeah, I could write a new year’s post, just like everyone else.” Why though, when there is a sooo much more interesting topic (for me, at least)? This is the year. THE YEAR.

2010 is… the Forty Year.

Within a matter of weeks both digits on my counter will turn over, and the one in the tens place will restyle itself from a meandering, free-form figure 3 into a pointy, angular rune 4 (yeah, I had to look “rune” up, too).

Free-form to angular. Is that poignant?

Well, I do find myself having more pointed opinions as of late, whereas at 30 I was pretty loosey-goosey, and in the last ten years I suppose I’ve had to go through my own bit of “restyling”. I have many more responsibilities now, and my motivations are of a more “mature” nature.

When I was 30, my kids were Kindergarten and below, so I was knee-deep in clay and crayola, toddler toys and potty training. I was NEVER alone, except maybe in the bathroom, and my world was at home.

Now that I am “39 and more than shave over”, my family is always on the go in all four directions, and we have staggeringly singular interests. One — building stuff; another — dance and art; the youngest — skateboarding and gaming (read “trying to give me a heart attack”); and me — whatever I can fit in during my little minute of the day :-).

I am finding that I must forge my own way deliberately as the apron strings become looser and looser, while still supporting my family in their goals and activities. Otherwise, I would lose my mind.

I am transitioning into that place where everyone is becoming less dependent on Mom, except if they need to go somewhere — and even a change to that status is looming, as a teen driver may assert herself in the nearer than I’d like future. My youngest is easing into Mom vs. Mommy, too. Actually, he flat-out asked one day if he could call me Mom, so maybe easing really isn’t the right word.

This 40 thing can seem a bit daunting, but I am certainly not afraid of it. I think it scares my mother and my daughter the most. My mother… because I am her youngest. My daughter… because it has always been Daddy who is “old” (I think… I’m supposed to take… that… as a compliment).

I guess Mommies aren’t supposed to age, but the signs are there to prove that it does truly happen. My hair, for instance. The silvery strands among the flaxen are appearing more numerous and prominent these days, but I refuse to dye or pluck out these natural and free “highlights” in my coiffure (I’m sure many of them are falling out very well on their own, anyhow).

No, I’m going into The Forty Year boldly, ambitiously, au natural and proud of it. I tell you, the little ones may get less needy and never be home, but that’s just what happens… I know because I did it too. My skin and whatever else may start to sag, and I may have a deep wrinkle or three, but that’s OK. The lady in the commercial will not intimidate me into thinking that I am inadequate or less beautiful because of these. My family tells me otherwise, and the outside doesn’t matter anyhow. Thank you, Family! I love you, too!

With that… my minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now

Doing What You Gotta Do

Gotta work (well, most of us), gotta eat, gotta sleep (well, most of you). These are things you gotta do if you want to get by. What are some things you gotta do, because you just gotta?

Here’s my top 10:

10. I gotta dance. No, wait, that was Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain. I DON’T dance at all, and have never felt the need to do so. #10 do over…

10. I gotta laugh. Sometimes, I crack jokes and I’m the only one who laughs. Actually, most of the time I crack jokes and I’m the only one who laughs, but that’s OK. I’m the one who’s gotta laugh, so mission accomplished, right?

9. I gotta be on the move. I cannot sit still. Even if it’s only my fingers on this keyboard, technically I am “moving”. I know, I know, just go with it.

8. I gotta be me. Yeah, cliché, but it’s true. I have to stay true to my convictions and beliefs. They are a part of me, and I gotta be me, like I just said before, at the beginning of #8 (OK, I’m the only one laughing, I get it)

7. I gotta be a mom. Becoming a mom was inevitable for me. I had two choices: become a mom of other people, or become my mother. I was blessed with the first choice, twice, so no mama-mini-me for MY mama 😀 (haha… kidding, Mom, just a little play on words for fun).

6. I gotta be inside. I know that’s weird. Most people would say I gotta get out, but I am simply NOT an outdoor girl. I don’t run, bike or swim; I don’t hike; and I never soak up any of the CA sun. I sunburn in like 30 seconds flat, sunblock or no sunblock, so I prefer to get my Vitamin D from a carton.

5. I gotta eat me some junk food. Yes, yes, yes, this is clearly at odds with my being super mom and trying to raise health-conscious kids, but just once in a while super-salty, fat-filled, really bad for you eats from the hole in the wall down the street are absolutely required for the maintenance of my well-being. Excuse me, I’ll be right back… nom, nom, nom.

4. I gotta chat. Remaining silent is really difficult for me. Let’s just leave that one alone, shall we? (Oh, look I made a breakthrough!)

3. I gotta understand. I absolutely must know what, why, and how. I really should have been a researcher, but this might have been in direct conflict with my need to chat, gossiping is a sin after all ;).

2. I gotta love. One of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received is love, and I just gotta pass it along, because love is greater when shared. So, I love you!

1. I gotta take time. Running around, being a mom, writing stuff, eating junk food, chatting with folks, trying to understand it all, and not to mention working and sleeping (at least once in a while)… sometimes you just gotta take a minute, which reminds me…

My minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now

Reinventing Grateful

In our culture we are taught to be grateful for our blessings; grateful for the things we have like family, food,  shelter, and security; grateful that we are not in the same circumstances as others who might be less fortunate. These are all wonderful things to be grateful for, and I, like anyone else, would be foolish not to count my blessings every day.

There is another side to this, though. How often are we grateful for our struggles? The occurrences that give us up to thinking and growing? The ones we don’t realize are good for us until years later when we look back and say, “I’m so glad I didn’t do that!”, hmmm? When we are right in it, are we truly grateful? Not usually.

It’s so easy to complain to anyone who will listen. And, others are all too willing to jump in and commiserate, adding their own seasoning to the stew. Grousing has become an acceptable form of communication.

If we are given everything we want in the way and timing we prefer, so that everything goes our way, we become greedy and spoiled with unrealistic expectations in life. As a mother, this is definitely not a quality I want to instill in my kids, so why would I allow the same behavior to reign in my own life?

Today, I am reinventing grateful. If something frustrates me, it’s going to be a stepping stone to understanding others and becoming more patient. If something does not go the way I intend it to, it’s simply a change of plans… for the better. If anything that does not normally elate me and bring me great joy crosses my path, I will view it as that moment’s challenge to be grateful where all things are concerned.

Be grateful in lean times because it provides a brief moment to experience and appreciate how some in poorer countries live 24/7. Be grateful when you can’t sleep, because it gives you time to reflect and pray. Be grateful under extreme duress, because you have a golden opportunity to model true gratefulness to others.

Today, I am reinventing grateful. Will you?

My minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now

Picture Perfect

It’s funny how you look in the mirror and see what you want to see. Most of the time I think my hair is not too bad, and that my makeup (the little that I do wear) is fine, and that my clothes are presentable. Then, someone takes a picture. Why is there such disparity?

I remember when my husband I and were newly married, we decided to take advantage of a promotional photo shoot at a new portrait studio. The deal was a free sitting and an 11×17 (11×17, no joke) print of whatever pose we liked best. I thought it would be so cool to have a big, formal portrait of us to hang on the wall (certainly not in our teensy-tiny apartment, but later when we upgraded to a house with a long wall, or a living room mantle).

I shined up in a nice dress, and my husband got into his best suit. Each of us looked the other over, approved of our appearance together, and then made our way to the portrait studio. This was some time before digital proofs, so when the photographer was finished snapping all his shots, he thanked us and we headed home. In the car, I looked at my husband and saw nothing but handsome and smart, and he looked over and appreciated me in all my loveliness. We had no idea what the results of the portrait sitting would be, but there was no reason to believe they wouldn’t be perfect.

A couple of weeks passed, and we eagerly attended our appointment to view the portraits. The studio attendant led us to a velvety room with several elegant, but empty, frames. As we waited for the sales representative to join us, my husband and I chatted and our mood was high. A woman came into the room and greeted us as she began inserting our various portrait poses into the fancy, golden frames. As she did so, my husband and I shot each other confused glances. Was that me?

My face was unusually elongated, and I was kind of yellow. My head was angled in an odd direction, and because of that my smile appeared creepy and eerie.  If you have ever followed the comic strip “The Far Side”, you might be able to envision what I saw in the images before me.

We complained to the sales representative that we were not satisfied with the way the pictures turned out and because of that we would not be making a purchase. Obviously not feeling my pain and deciding that we were just another waste-of-time in her day, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “Isn’t that how you always look?”

I’m pretty sure I coughed out loud, and to avoid being more rude than that, requested my freebie (although I can’t imagine why, probably on principle). At this, and looking back I really believe she did it on purpose, the sales rep removed the largest portrait from the center frame and transferred it to an equally-enormous envelope — that brute had to be 24×30 at the very least.

“Here you go.”

We said we thought the deal was for an 11×17, and she replied, turning slightly away, “No, that’s the one you get.”

We returned home strangely defeated, but then had a riotous laugh over our new pest control device. I think it also had the ability to repel vampires and most monsters that had a habit of hiding under the bed at night.  At least we never saw any after we shoved the portrait under there, permanently.

So what’s my moral?  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? No.  Inner beauty is better than outer beauty? No.  Oh, never mind, there isn’t a moral. I just truly hated that picture.

So, my minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now

Just a Minute More

A fellow blogger (http://france59.wordpress.com/) and I have been sharing thoughts and comments over the last few weeks. She is a charming person, and I enjoy reading her posts.

In perusing her blog, I came across a cool page on her site called “Strange, But True!”, listing 100 things (still in progress) about her, and I thought it was a neat idea. I am “borrowing” that theme for today’s entry.

So, whether you care to know or not, here goes…

60 seconds worth of details on Just A Minute Now:

I love

1. God
2. My Husband
3. My Kids
4. Our Pets
5. Good Books
6. Weird Words
7. Yellow
8. Nature
9. Dark Chocolate
10. Lotion

I Enjoy

11. Snuggling
12. Writing
13. Laughing
14. Talking
15. Friends
16. Singing
17. Cooking
18. Walks
19. Movies
20. Classic Literature
21. Laundry

I Dislike

22. Dishonesty
23. Okra
24. Romance Novels
25. Purple
26. Trans Fat
27. Bad Coffee
28. Rough Heels
29. Rough Elbows
30. Stifling Heat

I Need

31. More Sleep
32. Love
33. Smiles
34. Hugs
35. Laughter
36. Clean Towels
37. Internet Access
38. Unlimited Texting
39. Closet Space
40. Snacks

I Don’t Know

41. Martial Arts
42. Calculus
43. Anyone Famous
44. What’s Under the Couch
45. A Foreign Language
46. How Stuff’s Made
47. Where My Ring Is
48. How to Change a Tire
49. How to Sit Still
50. It All

I Am Grateful For

51. My Faith
52. My Marriage
53. My Great Kids
54. My Job
55. My Sanity
56. Good Company
57. New Acquaintances
58. A Full Pantry
59. Every Breath
60. My Minute

OK now, my minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now

P.S.

If you have more than a minute to spare today, take a peek at France59‘s 100 Things page at:

http://france59.wordpress.com/about/strange-but-true/

Flowers for a Reason

I was going to start off writing that my husband bought me a bouquet of  flowers today for no reason, but then I thought about it and realized that this just wasn’t true. I mean, it isn’t our anniversary, or my birthday, and there was no need to “make up”, but he still bought them.

He said he was going to Home Depot for a quick minute, which is typical when he is working on a project at the house, so I didn’t even really say goodbye. I had other things going on at that moment, and I think all I said was, “OK.”

He had been gone around 30 minutes, but since my separation anxiety stage has long since evaporated after 19 years of marriage, I hadn’t noticed the time. The kids were playing in the yard and I was talking on the phone with my mother, when I heard our van drive up outside. I didn’t run to the door to greet him, like I might have many years ago. I just stayed where I was and continued talking, but through the screen door it looked like he had more than a Home Depot bag in his hands, and he had a bigger grin on his face than usual.

Walking in, he presented me with a simple but beautiful floral arrangement. I asked him what it was for, and he replied, “No reason.”

I finished up my call and gave him a big hug. I thanked him for the flowers and he said, “Well, if I had waited until we could afford it, I might never have gotten them.” (Flowers are something we’ve always agreed to as being an extravagance).

Then, I put my bouquet in some water, he went back to his project, and the kids went on doing what they were doing. Nothing in our day changed, except that I had gotten flowers — a sweet reminder that my husband is very much in love with me, and that he still thinks about me when he is lost in a project or even on a trip to Home Depot.

Yes, I got flowers for a reason.

My minute is up. Thanks for spending yours with me.

Just a Minute Now