Month: September 2015

Quality Time

Isn’t it great when you have one of those days?  It’s a day where you have not so many commitments and you can just relax and spend time with family.  Yesterday, Sunday, was one of those days for me.

We had our church time in the morning but afterward we had only one other commitment for my son and husband, so it ended up being just us girls.  The best part, I was able to hang out with my daughter all afternoon.  Sure there were chores and errands I could have been doing like vacuuming the floors that are currently covered in A LOT of dog hair or cleaning the bathrooms but those things can wait.  Instead, I chose to let my daughter pick our activities for the afternoon and we had the most fun.  Precious time with my precious girl.

She is an industrious little 8 year old and really likes to straighten and clean…I know, I’m very lucky!   She had already been in our sun room, which doubles as a very messy playroom/craft room, picking up and putting things away as well as using the floor sweeper to get some of the extra craft bits off the floor.  Then I realized she was doing all of this, not only to be helpful, but she wanted to play in the sun room, with me!  I was so excited!  Sometimes I feel like she is growing up too fast and won’t need her Mama to hang out with her much longer.

We started out with a quick lunch in the sun room at the table she had taken time to set up before inviting me to join her.  After lunch we watched some videos on how to waterfall and ladder braid hair and then gave braiding a shot.  We were not very successful in our attempts to do these fancy, tricky braids and had to laugh at how badly we braided.  We will have to keep practicing.

Next up..marbles.  We carefully built our marble mazes and sent our marbles racing through.  First we built our own contraptions then combined both of ours to make one giant marble maze.  Turns out playing with marbles is very relaxing and mesmerizing.  Holding their smooth glass in your hand and then watching them go around and around in the marble maze almost put me to sleep.

After marbles we moved to the kitchen table for a drawing competition, eyes closed at first then we actually got to look at the paper while we drew.  Marshmallow, 3-D letter “A”, salt shaker, bacon and Elsa were among our artistic attempts.  Oh and Hannah Rae drew a smiling face on everything, bacon included!

While we were playing I told Hannah Rae how, when she was younger, she used to put me down for a nap and cover me up with a blanket. Soon after we were done with braiding, marbles and drawing, she decided she should put me down for a nap.  After she got us both some candy, she snuggled down with me for nap time.  I still love it when my kids snuggle with me.  Pretty certain that will never get old.

It was the sweetest afternoon.  I forget sometimes when we get into the swing of things that I need to give my kids one on one attention and not just one on one help with homework.  They need it and I need it.  It was refreshing to just be, to forget about the dirt and clutter in the house, to be home with my baby girl pushing aside all other responsibilities.   However, I do realize we cannot take 3 hours each afternoon to play and have fun like this.  I know homework and schedules will not allow this type of interaction all the time.  But I do know there are moments each day when we can steal away for a few minutes to have some quality time as a family or in a one on one setting.  Maybe we can spend a few moments in the morning before they rush off to school or maybe it’s when they get home from school.  I don’t read them books anymore at bedtime because they can read but I can take a few moments, before they go to sleep, to talk with them about their day or ask them their very favorite part of the day or week.

Yesterday I realized maybe I hadn’t been paying as much attention to my kids individually outside of all the daily routine stuff.  Of course I pay attention to them, feed them, help them with homework and see them during the day but do I really SEE them.  Do I see when they are struggling or maybe didn’t have the best of days. I know I did a good job spending time with them when they were younger but now they in school and have more commitments.  I wondered,  “Do I really focus in on what is happening in their lives aside from their daily routine?”  I’ve given myself a new challenge: Make the time to create those special moments.  Find the time to be in tune with what is happening in my kids’ lives.  They are growing up so fast, too fast, and time doesn’t seem to be slowing down in spite of it.  Try to capture sweet moments each day, even if it is only a few minutes.  They are only young once and before I know it they will be grown and out of the house.  Make each moment count!

Now I have my challenge in place and I’m ready to seek out quality time with my kiddos, but right this moment I’ve got to get some of those chores done that I neglected yesterday like vacuuming all the dog hair off the floor.

Have a most wonderful day filled with the sweetest moments!

Life Happens…In Your Dreams

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “In your dreams”.  It brings to mind images of unattainable goals and events that probably won’t happen, things we can only dream about.  I also remember several times in my life where someone used those words to knock me down a peg or two or bring me back to reality.

“In your dreams” took on a whole new meaning for me a few nights ago when my dream started feeling more like a nightmare.  The day hadn’t been particularly stressful or exhausting and I got to bed at a reasonable hour, which is unusual for me.  All in all I felt I could go to bed with a clear conscious and a good feeling about my day.  My dreams had other plans.

Dreams are supposedly an extension of your subconscious.  Apparently my subconscious was trying to tell me something this particular night…  My family and I were at a function but I don’t quite remember what we were celebrating.  The party was just ending and we were leaving.  There was a man standing at the dimly lit exit door doling out gifts to everyone.  He seemed familiar but I could not recall why or how I would know him.  The light from the exit shone behind him to reveal his slight build and arms that seemed to be 4 feet long.  Calmly animated, he handed out items from his seemingly bottomless gift bag.  He reached in with his long arms and selected a teddy bear for the girls and an action figure for the boys.  The exit line inched forward with each gift received, until he got to me.  When he saw me, he stood straight up, looked at me with his piercing gray eyes and said, “For you I have something special.”  I was filled with excitement as he searched his deep gift bag for this “something special”.  No teddy bear or action figure for me, my gift was special.  With anticipation I waited until, in his hands, I saw his gift for me.  When I saw the gift, I wasn’t sure how it was “special” because it was just a regular old planner.  As he handed it to me he said, “Maybe now you can get yourself organized.”  Almost like a slap in the face, I realized he was judging me.  But how could he?  After looking over the planner for a few seconds I looked up at the “gift” man and he had a disapproving smirk on his face.  I stumbled back with a gasp and managed to keep myself from falling to the floor.  Was he judging me?!  Then he said, “Maybe you can get it together now.”  As I stood wide eyed in disbelief, my thoughts swirled in my head.  I wanted to say something to him about his rudeness.  He didn’t know anything about me.  How dare he judge me?  The thoughts of what to say or do didn’t come to me fast enough because my eyes opened.  I was awake.

I was so befuddled in those few groggy moments after I woke.  I just lay in bed thinking, “Who was this man and what was he trying to tell me?  What gave him the right to give me a planner as if to say, “Get yourself together woman!”  I really do like a nice planner and would have been excited to receive it as a parting gift but it was the way he gave it to me.   That judgmental smirk on is face!  It burned me up!

Finally I was alert enough to realize I’d been laying there for quite a while trying to figure out that silly dream and what it meant.  I looked at the clock and was already running late getting my day started.  The kids had school that day and were not awake yet.  I still needed to shower.  The dogs hadn’t been let out.  There was breakfast to make and lunches to pack…ugh!

Then it hit me, the tall, lanky gift man was right!  I was a mess some mornings and really needed to get my act together, especially this particular morning.  Maybe he should have been handing me an alarm clock instead of a planner though.  Some mornings are better than others of course but this particular morning my dream was on point.  Although, I do kind of blame the “man in my dreams” for making me wake up all frazzled in the first place.

Lanky Man – 1, Me – 0, but I’ll get him next time!

It Ain’t Easy Being Green – The Kale Fail

We all try our best to do right by our families when it comes to nutrition.  Sometimes it’s easier to plan and prepare meals than others.  Sometimes the schedule allows for home cooked meals while other times eating out is the quickest option.  Eating out doesn’t necessarily mean fast food for us but we do try to avoid it because of the expense.  Plus, you cannot really control what’s going into your food when you eat out.  Unfortunately some weeks those eating out days are more frequent than I like to admit.

When I am cooking at home, I try to feed my family healthy foods and make sure we eat at least one green “super” food each day.  Most of the time our super food is broccoli but I also squeeze in some brussels sprouts and kale on occasion.  I think I am finally brain washing my family into kind of liking brussels sprouts but the kale is a hard sell, especially to my son.  It’s fun to watch him squirm as he makes faces like he’s trying to choke down his kale.  I just keep telling him how good it is for him even though I don’t think he believes me.  I like to think I’m doing the right thing by feeding him this yummy super food even if it does seem like torture for him.

Well, I have a little secret to tell.  Something was rotting in our refrigerator.  I cleaned out and threw away all the leftovers, even the ones that didn’t have mold on them.  Some things get pushed way back in the refrigerator and forgotten about.  We’ve had some pretty good science experiments come out of our fridge.  Anyway, I really cleaned it out.  I thought I’d taken care of the smell but…no.

It was one of those smells that took your breath away when you opened the refrigerator, like one of the dogs secretly left a little doggy deposit in the fridge.  I mean it was a BAD smell!  I kept searching for the smell.  This went on for several days.  It got to the point I would hold my breath any time I had to go to the fridge.  I knew something had to be done so I bravely walked up to the fridge, didn’t hold my breath and put my sniffer to the test.  I kept sniffing different areas of the fridge.  Nope, not there.  Not there either.  THEN, I sniffed the vegetable crisper.  Oh my goodness!  My nose burned from the smell!  The vegetable crisper?  I looked in the crisper and it didn’t look like anything had rotted in there.  Then I picked up the bag of kale that was fresh on the top but very rotten on the bottom.  Could it possibly be the kale, my yummy super food, making this unbelievable smell for the last few days.  Well, you’ve probably guessed by now, it was indeed the kale.  The kale on the top of the bag was fine but somehow the bottom of the bag was a mushy rotten and smelly mess.

I thought for sure that bag of kale couldn’t be the only culprit.  I threw the bag of kale in the trash and kept sniffing and looking around in the refrigerator.  I never found anything else.  Once the bag of kale was gone the smell was gone.  I couldn’t believe this super food would betray me like this.  How was I going to tell my family that the nose burning smell came from the kale.  They would never eat it again!  I kept quiet and thankfully they never asked how I got rid of the smell.  I’m safe for now or until they read this post.

I don’t know if there is a moral to this story or if it’s just a cautionary kale tale.  I guess if there is a moral to the story it could go something like this:  In the fridge if there’s a terrible smell, sniff around a smidge but it’s probably the kale.

PS: Please don’t tell my family.

The Trip

There I was sitting at my computer blank screen trying to figure out what to write for Memories on Monday this week. I had several ideas but couldn’t quite get them out of my brain and onto the computer screen.  I resigned to save those for another day when the thoughts would come more clearly.  Maybe I just wouldn’t have a Memories on Monday post this week.  I closed my computer and walked away.

After I picked up the kids from school we were riding home and my son asked, “Mom, what’s on that car in front of us?” Looking ahead at the sport utility vehicle a few cars in front of us I said, “I think it’s a bike rack.” He said, “Oh I thought it was a swimming pool.” I immediately thought, “I say bike rack, he says swimming pool. Let me look again”. And then I saw it…the old rusted out Econoline high top roof van. “Oh!”, I said. “Are you talking about that red van up ahead?” “Yes! Doesn’t it look like a swimming pool up top?” he added. “It kind of does look like a swimming pool but it’s for extra head room so you can stand up inside the van.”  “Oh he said, a swimming pool wold be better.”

Then the memories came flooding back. We actually had one of those Econoline high top roof vans growing up and we went everywhere in that thing and I mean everywhere! That van traveled cross country with the whole family in it one summer. That was a trip for the record books. We were gone 4 weeks traveling in the Econoline van and I’m certain my memory of that trip is quite different from the rest of my family. My brothers and parents remember every stop in every state. Me? Not so much.

It was the summer after my 6th grade year. My brothers had just finished 7th and 9th grade and we set off on our cross country journey. Excitement bubbled as the wheels of the van started rolling on our epic trip. This was the longest trip we’d ever taken as a family and it was sure to be amazing. My parents had everything planned out with maps in hand. Oh yes, it was before the invention of hand held GPS. My Mom sat in the front seat navigating with the map opened while Dad eased on down the road.

We left early that July morning.  First stop the Gateway Arch in St Louis.  My Dad was determined to get us up in that arch.   It took us about 9 hours to get there, with very brief stops for food and using the facilities.  When we finally arrived in St. Louis Dad dropped us off at the Arch and drove off in the van searching for parking.  He was gone for longer than we thought he should be gone.  We started to worry (at least Mom and I did), then Dad came around the corner hustling to get to us as quickly as he could.  He went up to the ticket counter to buy us tickets and their response, “We’re sorry, we are all sold out for this evening.” Dad begged his case to the people at the counter, told them we were only here for one night, how we’d driven all day to get there but they stood firm on their answer, “No more tickets”.  Ugh!

Now I wish you had the chance to know my Dad.  He had a certain southern charm about him and definitely was not short on words.  He could talk his way into and out of situations with ease.  It was quite amazing to watch, a gift even.  He was not giving up on getting us onto the elevator to the top of the arch.  He found one of the elevator operators and I’m not really sure what he said to him but shortly after he spoke with him, we were being ushered onto the elevator to ride to the top and they let us on for FREE.  Amazing Dad!  The view at the top of the arch was spectacular.  It was a clear night and seemed as if you could see all the way across the country from there.  I wasn’t particularly fond of the swaying motion you could feel at the top of the arch or the creaking, shifting elevator ride to the top and back down.  I was however, so impressed with my Dad and his people persuasion skills because otherwise we would not have experienced the Gateway Arch that night.

I honestly cannot recount all our stops in chronological  order like the rest of my family.  I don’t know how they do that.  Maybe I was too young to make the same kind of memories they did.  Honestly, I’ve never been the best with geography.  Maybe that’s it.  Who knows.  What I do remember were the long stretches of time in the van listening to Dad’s music.  He would tell us, “We will listen to 30 minutes of your music, then 30 minutes of my music”.  We were onto him though.  There is no way I could have learned every lyric to way too many Kingston Trio songs if we were listening to equal parts our music and equal parts his music.  My middle brother and I can still sing those songs 30 years later.  I don’t even remember what music was considered “our music” back then.    Oh well.  I actually don’t mind knowing so many Kingston Trio songs now.  It’s just one way to bring out memories of my Dad.  One of my favorite Kingston Trio songs is “M.T.A.”.  Poor Charlie.

After many Kingston Trio songs and several other stops, we arrived at Mt. Rushmore.  I remember thinking how big their heads were and what a mess they would make if they sneezed.  Keep in mind I was just out of 6th grade.  I also remember thinking how people sculpting Mt. Rushmore were taking their lives into their own hands and how gross it must have been to carve out the nostrils on the monument.  I may have mentioned that to my parents and they just shook their heads, chuckled a little and proceeded to be in awe of this amazing sculpture on the side of the mountain.

Back in the van.  By this time my brothers and I had been in close proximity for quite long enough.  I had the back bench seat in the van while my brothers had the two captains chairs in the middle of the van.  I’m sure I was such an angel and would have never done anything to annoy my big brothers.  I was trying to take a nap on the bench seat and suddenly I found my head squeezed between the back of my brother’s reclined captain chair and the bench seat. “MOM!!  Their squishing my head!”  OK, OK.  I might have been annoying them just a little bit and this was their way of getting back at me.  I’m a little foggy on those details.

We meandered through the country stopping at various places big, like the grand canyon, and small.  We made it all the way to Vancouver, Canada where I saw my first quadruple rainbow.  I do wish I would have written down all the stops but I’m sure someone in my family has a record of it.  If not written down, I’m sure the whole trip is stored in their brains somewhere just waiting to be revisited.  Of course their version of the trip probably varies slightly from my version.  We’ve looked through the pictures at least once in the last few years and I absolutely loved showing the pictures to my kids and telling them about our adventures.  I would love to revisit this trip with my Mom and brothers sometime and maybe even make the same trip again with my kids.  Either way, it was a once (or maybe twice) in a lifetime trip.

The Most Wonderful Gate

This past week a wonderful, kind and precious woman left this earth and graced the welcoming gates of heaven.

My Aunt Helen was a woman who, though slight in build, was strong in spirit.  She was a go and do kind of person.  I rarely saw her sitting because she was always in the kitchen making some delicious food for us or checking to make sure we were as comfortable as possible.  Her hospitality was unmatched.  Aunt Helen was a great cook and I always devoured her seven layer salad and eclair dessert, two of my favorites from her.  That eclair dessert must have won some awards somewhere.  So delicious!  I could have eaten the entire dish of eclairs in one sitting.  She made a point to make it for me when I came to visit.

My Aunt was so generous and kind with a gentle spirit.  I never saw her angry although my cousins, her sons, say they’ve seen it.  (Don’t tell her sons, but I don’t believe them.)  She was always so kind to me from childhood to adulthood and to see her with my children, just amazing.  We went to visit Aunt Helen a few years back and she took us all around her town visiting the restaurant responsible for making the first waffle cone (yum!) and we visited a great local kids’ museum.  We took the best picture of my Mom and Aunt Helen at that museum.  The two of them were sitting in one of those giant chairs looking like kids again with the biggest smiles on their beautiful faces. Cutest sister picture ever.  It was just after this wonderful visit when my Aunt began the battle for her life.

The last years of my Aunt’s life were not easy but she refused to give up or give in.   Steadfast in her determination, she cared for my uncle as he fought an unyielding battle with Parkinson’s, one of the most unforgiving diseases.  As the Parkinson’s progressed, my Uncle eventually was too unstable to walk on his own.  The physical strength I witnessed from my Aunt was astounding!  She reached super hero status in my eyes when I saw her caring for Uncle Allen.  Her 105 pound frame would pick up and move my 200 pound Uncle like it was nothing, shifting him from wheel chair to car, getting him to the table to eat and moving him around for other daily activities.  She continued to care for him in their home and gave him the most loving supportive care, the best care he could ever receive.  I remember how Aunt Helen always had ice cream and brownies for Uncle Allen, even when they were out of town, because he enjoyed eating ice cream and brownies for his bedtime snack.  She was so sweet and did everything she could to keep Uncle Allen happy and comfortable while he was still with us on Earth.

Two and a half years ago Aunt Helen faced her biggest life challenge yet.  She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  Ovarian cancer by itself is one of the cancers that is hard to detect and once found has a low survival rate.  They didn’t find the cancer for my Aunt until it was already stage 4.  Right from the very beginning she received terrible news but she fought the cancer with everything she had.   Even though she was battling this life altering disease, she never lost sight of what is important.  She continued to serve in her church and serve others.  On more than one occasion my mom told me about Aunt Helen cooking for someone or taking her friend to lunch because they were having a bad day.   She didn’t want to let the cancer dictate what she could and couldn’t do.  She fought hard and even while she received news from the doctors that was not positive, she never gave up.  She wanted to fight it.  In the end, the cancer took her life and she went to be with the Lord this past week.

I want to take this moment to say, “I love you, Aunt Helen”.  I hope I said those words to you enough for you to understand how much you mean to me.  You led an amazing, inspiring life for me and those around you.  We sang a song in church yesterday with these words “I’m running to your arms”.  I imagined you running into the arms of God, into the arms of Jesus.  You were running, not in pain anymore, no more sickness, your body restored.  I know you have graced the Most Wonderful Gates and Heaven is now rejoicing because you are there.

Hang On!

The day was long and exhausting.  It was one of those days I felt like I was holding on for dear life as the day sped on twisting and turning like a roller coaster.  I couldn’t quite get my feet underneath me and it was all I could do to hold on with my white knuckle grip.  My grip was slipping.

I was in transition between activities last week, driving from the lake to my next commitment when I noticed a praying mantis on the hood of my car that looked like he was having the same kind of day as me.  I didn’t notice him until the car was already in motion with nowhere to pull over.  This little guy was hanging on, crouched down to make his body as aerodynamic as possible.  The wind stream shifted him once but the praying mantis regained his grip and continued to hold on for dear life.  It seemed he was in a helpless hopeless situation.  As I started to slow the car for a stop light, the praying mantis finally let go and flew off.

As I sat at the stoplight hoping the little guy was alright and his high speed ride wasn’t too much for his buggy body, I realized I was like that praying mantis.  I often find myself in the midst of a busy day holding on as if my life depended on it, trying to make it through the day without flying off the ride of life.  I tend to pack everything into my day so I have no time to spare, no time to slow down, no time to focus on the things that are really important.  I miss my time to focus on the One who can help me through all the craziness life has to offer, the One I can cling to instead of clinging to the busyness of life.  I struggle to hold onto the high speed roller coaster ride of life, much like my little praying mantis friend, instead of holding onto my Savior!

When the car slowed, the praying mantis finally let go and released his aerodynamic grip on the car.  Is that me?  Am I only willing to let go of the busyness of life when things slow down?  Do I only let go of my nutty schedule and turn my focus to God when I “have time”?  In reality I should cling most to my Lord when things seem to be spiraling out of control, when life is one giant super speed roller coaster and I’m on the ride screaming for it to slow down.  I should be calling out to the Lord for help, seeking him for comfort, a refuge from the insanity of life.

I often find myself trapped on life’s roller coaster, as I’m sure many people do.  It is all too easy to push Him aside on those busy days and say I will get to my Bible later or I’ll make sure I pray this evening.  Then the whole day slips by and I realize I have, yet again, neglected God.  In those times, I need to intentionally make time, take a moment to turn to the Lord, pray to Him, ask Him to help me make it through my impossibly busy day.  Instead of waking up and barreling into the day, I need to slow down and focus on Him.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul.” Psalm 23:1-3a

Why is it so difficult for me to turn to Him?  He wants to restore me.  He wants to give me rest.  Why can’t I accept it some days?  Why does life have me so trapped in its busyness that I can’t, or won’t, take a moment to turn to Him?  He is always there, always waiting to give me the refreshing, restoring rest I need.

Psalm 23:1-3 is one of my favorite passages in the Bible.  When I read these verses I see myself lying in the beautiful green pasture, cool breeze blowing over me as I listen to the babbling brook knowing God is watching over me.  When my life gets the most crazy this passage brings me back to calm.  I need to hear it.  I need to accept His offer for comfort and rest.  I cannot survive like the praying mantis, holding on with all I’ve got as the busy road of life takes me wherever it wills.  I need to escape the insane schedule of life and accept the comfort and rest He is always willing to offer.

My prayer for you today is, whatever your day looks like, you are able to receive the comfort and rest of God.  The comfort and rest he is ready and willing to give as long as you are ready and willing to receive.  Imagine yourself lying in the beautiful green pasture, still waters by your side, God watching over you.  What could be more refreshing than that?

Orange, Yellow, White

I don’t particularly care for the candy companies this time of year and there’s two words that explain why, “candy” and “corn”.  Why does every candy maker have to come out with their own version of candy corn?  Right around the end of August it seems all the candy molds in the world suddenly transform into those little triangular shapes.  Candies that are not usually candy corn shaped shed their round or square bodies for the more shapely, rounded triangle.   I saw candy corn Skittles the other day.  That’s just not right.

As you read the first paragraph, you may have thought I had a particular aversion to candy corn.  Well, I suppose that is true in a way.  I try to “avert mine eyes” from the seasonal candy section this time of year.  I avert my grocery cart from the candy isle so I don’t have to walk past those little orange, yellow and white nuggets of sugary delight.  But that’s where my aversion ends.

The REAL truth is: candy corn is one of my all time favorite candies.  I’m thankful it is only, in your face, obvious once per year.  Otherwise, I might eat candy corn for breakfast, lunch and dinner year round.  My will power was pretty strong until yesterday.  I resisted the urge to buy the little nuggets of goodness until my trip to the grocery store a little over 24 hours ago.  Once I buy the first bag of candy corn, I can not stop eating them until after Thanksgiving.  It really is a two holiday candy, Halloween and Thanksgiving.  After all, no CORNucopia is complete without candy CORN.

Yes, this is a silly post but I just don’t know what is it about candy corn.  It’s the perfectly right mixture of honey (or sugar) and flavor.  Pretty sure I’ve never looked at the ingredients to figure out what candy corn is made from.  Maybe if I did look at the ingredients list my desire to eat it would not be so great.  I’m sure there has to be some unnatural, undesirable ingredient on that list.  Hold on a second…OK, I just ran to the cabinet to look at the ingredients and don’t remember a single ingredient I read except sugar but my trip to the cupboard was not without reward.  I did score a big handful of candy corn to eat on my way back to my computer.

So here’s my question to the candy companies, “Why do you torment me with all your traditional candy corn and variations on candy corn?”  I have to try each flavor and I typically like them all.  I did try a caramel apple flavored candy corn last year that wasn’t my favorite,  And yes, I did try the yummy Skittles candy corn.  I know it’s not really the candy companies’ fault that I cannot resist those corn kernel shaped treats but I still blame them nonetheless.

Here’s to another season of eating way too much candy corn.  And don’t even get me started on the mellowcreme pumpkins!

 

 

Honest kids!

Kids!  You love them but you never really know what will come out of their truth spewing, even when the truth hurts, mouths.  They are mocking birds, repeating just what you do not want them to repeat. They are givers of new perspective.  Kid’s brains are swirling, churning, just waiting to say the perfectly right thing to embarrass their parents at the perfectly wrong time.  On more than one occasion I’ve felt the embarrassing sting in my bright red cheeks as my kids did just that.

My kids are blessed with the gift of gab.  They never meet a stranger, much like my dad and me.  On more than one occasion people have told me how my child or children brightened their day.  Proud mama moment!  Then there are those times when their curiosity, innocent childlike curiosity, leads them to ask the “hard” or should I say embarrassing questions.

We were standing in the busy check out line in one of those, “buy everything in one stop” stores.  To pass the time my son started up a conversation with the woman behind us in line.  My son started off with the usual stories he tells someone he just met.  All of a sudden the conversation headed in another direction.  There I stood, helpless to stop it.  All I could do was stand and listen as the words, “Are you having a baby?” fell one by one out of his mouth.  After a brief pause she chuckled, “Oh!  I’m not having a baby.”  At that moment, I wished I could crawl behind one of the cashiers or, better yet, vanish into thin air.  No such luck.  Thankfully the woman was very gracious and smiled through it all.  I could feel the sting of embarrassment in my cheeks and knew they must be redder than a stop light.  After we left the store I had a brief talk with my kids about when it is appropriate to ask a woman if she’s having a baby.  I told them it’s only OK if you know for sure she is pregnant.  Actually, scratch that, don’t EVER ask!

Apparently those words did not sink in where I was concerned.  It was one of those Sunday mornings where I just couldn’t quite figure out what to wear.  Half my wardrobe lay on my bed, tried on and discarded.  I couldn’t find anything I felt comfortable wearing.  I finally dug a dress out of my closet, put it on and was looking in the full length mirror in our hall to make sure it didn’t look too bad.  My daughter came out of her room as I was examining my attire and she offered her solicited advice.  She’s eight and has more fashion sense than I’ve ever had.  After she finished imparting her words of fashion wisdom to me, she patted my belly and said, “Mom, are you sure you’re not having a baby.”  I’m not sure what emotion was on my face but I tried to hide my shock and deflated ego so she didn’t know she’d hurt my feelings.  I still don’t know why she asked me that dreaded question.  I know she wasn’t trying to be mean.  Maybe she asked because she and her brother have been asking for a baby sibling (ain’t happening).  Maybe she didn’t have the heart to tell me the dress didn’t look all that great and this was her way of letting me down easy.  No matter, I didn’t have time to stand and ponder what was bouncing around in my eight year old’s head.  I rushed back to my closet and grabbed another dress to wear to church that day.  I’m still a little self conscious when I wear that dress.

I love my kids and absolutely adore them for their honesty and truthfulness…most of the time.  They really are great kids and have a such a positive outlook on life.  We teach them to share their positive outlook, to be kind and honest.  After all honesty is always the best policy, right?  Well, at this moment, I can think of one good exception to that rule.