My Mom, Still the Coolest Mom Around

4^th Grade International Cooking Days at school (most creative room mom ever!), watching me roll – and roll – down the hill at Lorado Taft, Crimes of the Heart in college when I cried on stage and could hear her sniffling in the audience almost as loud as me, the birth of my daughter, annual American Girl Place visits when Arianna was little . . . These only comprise a taste of special experiences I have shared with my mother – the one person in my life who is always there when I need a shoulder to cry on, an ear for listening, or a hand of support. I know of no one as selfless as she. My mother helps others before she helps herself, she makes life fun for those near her, and she is someone I want to be like when I grow up.

My mother puts the happiness of those she is close to before the happiness of herself. Throughout my life and my brother’s life, my mother has spent maybe one eighth of the time on herself. The rest is devoted to her family. She is either driving back and forth to my home to pick up my daughter when I have a schedule conflict or on the phone to offer an ear to Dave or taking my grandmother out shopping. When we were little, all of her decisions revolved around our well-being: she chose a job as a waitress so that she could be home with us during the day; she chose to maintain our home after our father died so that our lives would remain nearly the same; she chose to work more hours to fortify the lifestyle she thought we needed to be happy. Her caring doesn’t stop with my brother or me. She was the one who opened up our home to her mother and father when her mother became ill with cancer. (Of course, I was excited that grandma and grandpa were living with us; I didn’t understand the extra stress it placed on my mother’s life.) She was the one who looked after my grandfather who moved a few blocks away after my grandmother passed away. When her sister was dieing of breast cancer, she was the one who took her to and from her doctor appointments. In other words, she was – and is – the one who is there whenever family or friend is in need.

While striving to help others in any way that she can, my mother still manages to make life fun. Our home was always filled with fun toys, loving pets, happy music, and sweet smells. We were the only house on the block to hold a Fun Fair for the neighborhood complete with games and prizes, arts and crafts, and movies. Summers were filled with swimming in the backyard and Mom bringing out lunch on a tray with LHDRUs (ask me what that stands for later!). Christmas was a magical time, transforming our home from a suburban dwelling to Santa’s dreamhouse. Little elves abounded everywhere as everything from the welcome mat to the mantle centerpiece to the pictures on the wall evolved to Christmas décor. To this day, my daughter still finds Christmas Eve at “Gum’s” house as her favorite night of the year. Whenever my brother and I were sick, she would bring us food in bed, move a T.V into our room, and buy us magazines. I take pride in knowing I have a great role model for creating a happy home for my daughter.

For these reasons and more, I want to be like Natalie Theresa when I grow up. As I smooth the cream on my face at night, I can only hope that my skin displays as few wrinkles as hers. As I exercise daily, I can only wish that her washboard abs stay with me. As I force myself to think positive thoughts in tough situations, I can only aspire to be as optimistic as her. Natalie is a woman to admire. She transitioned to a completely new and successful real estate career at age fifty. She bought a new home and took on a new lifestyle at age sixty. She maintains numerous friendships that are thirty years old or older including high school buddies. She is privy to the latest fashions and could easily pass for someone fifteen to twenty years younger. She maintained the reputation among my and my brother’s friends as “the coolest mom around;” or, as some high school friends still remembered at my 20-year reunion – she’s a “hot mom.”

The last time I wrote a letter commemorating how significant my mother is in my life was for her fiftieth birthday. Well did we know then where we would be today. Teaching was only a distant dream, my daughter was barely three, and I had yet to endure the pain of divorce. She helped make that teaching dream turn into a reality by her constant support and care. Right now I can only imagine where I will be ten years from now. But I do know this – whatever current dreams I have, they will be more likely to happen with her constant love and positive encouragement to guide me along the way.

 

Mind your messages

Grading Girl shares this message during the first week of my speech classes:

Meanings are in the message senders – NOT in the messages themselves!!

If meaning were in the words, then knowing word definitions would eliminate all misunderstandings!  There would be no room for argument if we only held denotations, or dictionary definitions, to words.  The reality is, though, that each person has different experiences that cause associations to certain emotional meaning, or connotations, of words.  In other words (no pun intended!), individuals assign meanings to words and intend them in a particular way.

The misunderstanding comes when the person receiving the message holds different attitudes or emotions to the very same words.  Nonverbal language, then, helps convey the intended association.  Facial expressions, gestures, and body movement can help reveal the true message when words fail us.  So Grading Girl urges you to mind your messages!

Timing

Timing is everything.

Time is ours to spend but we can’t keep it.

We can’t see time but we can feel it.

We can feel time but we can’t hold on to it.

Time never stops but keeps going and going.

Time can’t be rushed yet it can’t be slowed down.

Once time is lost, it’s gone forever.

Timing is everything.

Do fingers fing?

Let’s review the English language, shall we?

(adapted from an anonymous handout lying around, waiting to be rescued from the recycling bin)

Grading Girl concludes that English is a crazy language. I can think of many examples to support this. . . some are from an anonymous essay sent my way, others are GG’s own contemplations: There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither is there an apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or french fries in France . Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

Why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth, beeth? One goose, two geese. So one moose, two meese? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell?

How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which, an alarm goes off by going on.

And what about the phrase “Believe you me.”  That one still boggles my mind. . . .

English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.

PS ~ Why doesn’t ‘Buick’ rhyme with ‘quick?’

Linguistic lovers will especially enjoy this ~
There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that is ‘UP.’

It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report ?

We call UP our friends. And we use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, we warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car. At other times the little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing, but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP . We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.

We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP , look the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4th of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don’t give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it wets the earth and often messes things UP. When it doesn’t rain for a while, things dry UP.

One could go on and on, but I’ll wrap it UP , for now my time is UP, so………… it is time to shut UP! 😉

Living in the Moment

Creativity is maximized when you’re living in the moment.  BREATHE DEEPLY and appreciate the moment.  Living in the moment could be the meaning of life.

A poem I wrote 14 years ago for my mother’s birthday illustrates this message well:

Firsts and Lasts

Life is full of firsts. First step, first word, first day of school, first love, first job . . . the list goes on. We commemorate those firsts and remember them. But what about the lasts in our lives?

Do we remember when was the last time we played with a favorite toy from our childhood? Did we know that on one not so memorable, probably very ordinary day, we would be putting a beloved doll to rest in its box for the very last time?

Sometimes we begin traditions without much planning. We start an activity, like the way it fits our lifestyle, and we continue it for a time. All of a sudden, we wake up and realize the “tradition” is gone. Can we recall which was the last Sunday we dined out weekly for brunch?

What about those traditions we followed for years and years? The Easter brunches, the Christmas Eves, the New Year’s sleep overs. Did we make the last time special? Did we know that it was important to make the last time special?

Life is full of memorable firsts, yet it is just as plentiful of special lasts – only we don’t know it until the lasts have passed. Thus, we must take joy in life’s simple pleasures as well as the main events; we must love one another as if we are all brothers and sisters; we must treat each occasion as if it was a first.

Dedicated to you Mom, inspired from your own words

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