Having a child equates to someday having a pet. More than one child? Pets…plural.
At any given moment our home was filled with fish, birds, dogs, hamsters, guinea pigs, rabbits, or FROGS?
Yes, I said frogs. When the aquarium was not holding fish or hamsters or guinea pigs, my boys felt it was their personal responsibility to fill it with something.
In passing this “glass” house one day, I couldn’t help but notice it housed two new creatures…the boys simply giggled as they ran in to feed their new little pets. I watched in horror as they dropped crickets and grass into the enclosed area.
Several days later, while vacuuming the house, I noticed the aquarium sat empty. I made a mental note to ask the boys if they had put the frogs outside when suction of the hose changed from a steady sounding hum to a thwarp!
I quickly pulled the vacuum’s hose from beneath the sofa and shrieked when I saw the splayed remains of a dried out frog suctioned to the end of the vacuum.
In questioning the boys, the story was told they were playing “leap frog” with their pets when they got away! THEY?
The other frog never was recovered…
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Motherhood-A Day At the Beach
Little did I know just how much “going to the beach” would change once I became a mother.
Let me break it into the before and after Motherhood scenario.
Before: I would go to the beach with a chair, a towel, a small cooler, and a tote with my day’s supplies.
After: I would go to the beach with a chair, four towels, a cooler on wheels, a large tote with our day’s supplies, a tote with the dry food, a tote with the sand toys, and of course the various floating apparatuses.
It wasn’t only what I took to the beach that becoming a mother changed. Oh no, it was the way I experienced the beach that changed!
Before: I would set up the chair, lay out the towel, put on the sunscreen and settle in to soak in the sun’s rays. I would enjoy reading a good book, or closing my eyes and listening to the sound of the waves as they crashed upon the shore. I would smell the salty air as the sea gulls cried their sing song language and the sound of children, (other people’s children), wafted softly in the distance.
After: I would set up the chair, try to keep the other towels from getting sand on them as they would be needed later to dry off with, re-applied sunscreen to faces (we had already spent 30 minutes at home putting sunscreen on wiggling little bodies), reviewed the boundary lines determined by my chair and some other colorful beach umbrella a few feet down the beach, dispersed the sand toys or floating devices and watched as the children scattered within the “safe zone”.
There was no reading, no closing of the eyes. I was on guard, on watch.
Though I did not read a book, I watched my children laugh, and build castles in the sand. If I heard the sea gulls cry, it was in the background to my children’s voices as they called out, “Momma, look at me,” as they rode the cresting waves. And once we were all back in the car safe and sound, with sandy little bodies tired and spent. I would close my eyes; smell the salty air and say, “thank you Lord for the blessing of this day.”
Let me break it into the before and after Motherhood scenario.
Before: I would go to the beach with a chair, a towel, a small cooler, and a tote with my day’s supplies.
After: I would go to the beach with a chair, four towels, a cooler on wheels, a large tote with our day’s supplies, a tote with the dry food, a tote with the sand toys, and of course the various floating apparatuses.
It wasn’t only what I took to the beach that becoming a mother changed. Oh no, it was the way I experienced the beach that changed!
Before: I would set up the chair, lay out the towel, put on the sunscreen and settle in to soak in the sun’s rays. I would enjoy reading a good book, or closing my eyes and listening to the sound of the waves as they crashed upon the shore. I would smell the salty air as the sea gulls cried their sing song language and the sound of children, (other people’s children), wafted softly in the distance.
After: I would set up the chair, try to keep the other towels from getting sand on them as they would be needed later to dry off with, re-applied sunscreen to faces (we had already spent 30 minutes at home putting sunscreen on wiggling little bodies), reviewed the boundary lines determined by my chair and some other colorful beach umbrella a few feet down the beach, dispersed the sand toys or floating devices and watched as the children scattered within the “safe zone”.
There was no reading, no closing of the eyes. I was on guard, on watch.
Though I did not read a book, I watched my children laugh, and build castles in the sand. If I heard the sea gulls cry, it was in the background to my children’s voices as they called out, “Momma, look at me,” as they rode the cresting waves. And once we were all back in the car safe and sound, with sandy little bodies tired and spent. I would close my eyes; smell the salty air and say, “thank you Lord for the blessing of this day.”
Friday, February 18, 2011
Me- Life's Stage
If “all the world’s a stage and all the men and women, merely players” as Shakespeare so aptly quotes, then what part have I played, do I play, will I play?
Ahhhh, that is not a difficult answer, for my life has felt as though it has played out on stage. Even as a child, there were the living room plays where I would direct my siblings on what to say as I stood atop the organ bench and sang my heart out to my parents as they watched the performance. There were the various dance routines year in and year out as costume after costume was purchased so that I might twirl across the stage in my ballerina tutu or tap my way into the chorus line.
There were the neighborhood shows where I and several other children would practice songs and dance routines for hours then sell tickets to “the Big Show” to raise money for a charitable organization.
As the years passed life’s stage began to transform. It took the shape of faces, and places. It carried me to foreign lands. It taught me that although I had struggles in my life, they could not compare with the plight of those in other parts of the world.
Life’s stage and the challenges that were and are scattered along the way have reminded me that my part may not always be glamorous, may not always be dressed in pretty little costumes, set to twirl through each day effortlessly. But with grace I can walk through my part, deliver my lines, and await the sunrise of each new tomorrow.
Ahhhh, that is not a difficult answer, for my life has felt as though it has played out on stage. Even as a child, there were the living room plays where I would direct my siblings on what to say as I stood atop the organ bench and sang my heart out to my parents as they watched the performance. There were the various dance routines year in and year out as costume after costume was purchased so that I might twirl across the stage in my ballerina tutu or tap my way into the chorus line.
There were the neighborhood shows where I and several other children would practice songs and dance routines for hours then sell tickets to “the Big Show” to raise money for a charitable organization.
As the years passed life’s stage began to transform. It took the shape of faces, and places. It carried me to foreign lands. It taught me that although I had struggles in my life, they could not compare with the plight of those in other parts of the world.
Life’s stage and the challenges that were and are scattered along the way have reminded me that my part may not always be glamorous, may not always be dressed in pretty little costumes, set to twirl through each day effortlessly. But with grace I can walk through my part, deliver my lines, and await the sunrise of each new tomorrow.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Mayhem- Wisdom Under the Bridge
Have you ever tied a six passenger boat to a girder under a bridge at night? Well, I haven’t actually done the knot-tying, but I apparently was in the way while my father tried to tie one!
When I was younger, we used to go to Clarks Hill (now apparently they call it Strom Thurmond Lake).
It was a delightful family vacation spot. It offered fishing, picnicking, boating, camping, and other outdoor activities. It was not uncommon for us to take the boat and our pop-up camper to the lake for a week-end get away.
On this particular evening, my dad decided it would be fun to do some night fishing. We headed out of our quiet little cove into the massive lake. Heading towards the long bridge connecting South Carolina to Georgia, my father maneuvered the boat into position. Taking one rope, tying it to the front of the boat and then lassoing the girder, he secured our position. He then attempted to do the same with the back.
During this process, anyone sitting in a seat near the “casting-off” position was asked to move. I moved from the left rear to the right rear. When he missed the rear girder for the third time, his frustration grew, so he told me to get to the front! Time and again he tried. Finally, the connection was made and the boat sat cradled between two taught lines.
I returned to my seat when he pulled out yet another cord! To this, he tied a light. Like a wild cowboy, he swung the loose end over his head and upward toward the ledge. Splat!
It hit the water with a dull thud. Again he tried. The wind began to blow softly swaying the boat like a baby’s cradle. His frustration shown with each additional missed toss. I, along with all other members in the fishing-party, were told to move.
In my teen-age wisdom, I asked “Should we just jump off the boat?”
Swoosh, clink, he did it!
Hmmmm…was it my wit or his wisdom of not responding immediately to my mouth that caused the rope to catch? I may never know, but I learned a lesson that night.
Teenagers are developing wisdom; parents are practicing it!
When I was younger, we used to go to Clarks Hill (now apparently they call it Strom Thurmond Lake).
It was a delightful family vacation spot. It offered fishing, picnicking, boating, camping, and other outdoor activities. It was not uncommon for us to take the boat and our pop-up camper to the lake for a week-end get away.
On this particular evening, my dad decided it would be fun to do some night fishing. We headed out of our quiet little cove into the massive lake. Heading towards the long bridge connecting South Carolina to Georgia, my father maneuvered the boat into position. Taking one rope, tying it to the front of the boat and then lassoing the girder, he secured our position. He then attempted to do the same with the back.
During this process, anyone sitting in a seat near the “casting-off” position was asked to move. I moved from the left rear to the right rear. When he missed the rear girder for the third time, his frustration grew, so he told me to get to the front! Time and again he tried. Finally, the connection was made and the boat sat cradled between two taught lines.
I returned to my seat when he pulled out yet another cord! To this, he tied a light. Like a wild cowboy, he swung the loose end over his head and upward toward the ledge. Splat!
It hit the water with a dull thud. Again he tried. The wind began to blow softly swaying the boat like a baby’s cradle. His frustration shown with each additional missed toss. I, along with all other members in the fishing-party, were told to move.
In my teen-age wisdom, I asked “Should we just jump off the boat?”
Swoosh, clink, he did it!
Hmmmm…was it my wit or his wisdom of not responding immediately to my mouth that caused the rope to catch? I may never know, but I learned a lesson that night.
Teenagers are developing wisdom; parents are practicing it!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Motherhood-Wiggles to Giggles
How many times have we seen on television one end of a string tied to a door knob and the other end of the string tied to a loose tooth that was ready to be pulled? Or how about that dentist that was ready to take the pliers to the patient who sat pasty white in the chair sweating bullets at the prospect of what was about to transpire?
With every comedic presentation of the infamous removal of a loose tooth, there was a little child smiling with that snaggled-tooth grin and holding what they knew was “cash in hand”.
Yes, every child knows about the Tooth Fairy. And what I have found over time is the Tooth Fairy is very excited and in tune with the first tooth lost by each child.
However as the years pass……
The number of teeth lost multiplied by the number of children who lose them; well let’s just say there were mornings where those final baby teeth would still be under the pillow. Somehow, the tooth fairy got behind in her pickup and delivery system and would sometimes not arrive until the children were eating breakfast.
So what, you may ask, do motherhood, television tooth pulling comedy, and the tooth fairy have in common? The answer is: TIMING
Timing is everything when it comes to keeping what was once a tiny white wiggle a precious little giggle. Let's face it: Loosing teeth in our prime doesn't have the same effect!
With every comedic presentation of the infamous removal of a loose tooth, there was a little child smiling with that snaggled-tooth grin and holding what they knew was “cash in hand”.
Yes, every child knows about the Tooth Fairy. And what I have found over time is the Tooth Fairy is very excited and in tune with the first tooth lost by each child.
However as the years pass……
The number of teeth lost multiplied by the number of children who lose them; well let’s just say there were mornings where those final baby teeth would still be under the pillow. Somehow, the tooth fairy got behind in her pickup and delivery system and would sometimes not arrive until the children were eating breakfast.
So what, you may ask, do motherhood, television tooth pulling comedy, and the tooth fairy have in common? The answer is: TIMING
Timing is everything when it comes to keeping what was once a tiny white wiggle a precious little giggle. Let's face it: Loosing teeth in our prime doesn't have the same effect!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Me- Time to Tan
The desire for that sun-kissed glow is ingrained in most women. Today, there are tanning beds in every city, large or small. Whether you choose to lie there in your bathing suit or birthday suit, you are ensured of receiving a golden glow within several visits.
That “glow” came in the form of various concoctions during my teen years. There were sunlamps of course, but they required you to toast your body in sections little by little. It was like watching toast burn in the privacy of your own home. Toast here, flip over, and burn a little more.
If you selected to lie in the sun, a radio announcer was sure to come on and say “time to turn so you won’t burn!”
The secret to outdoor tanning was experimentation. Some tried the drugstore creams and tanning lotions, while many of us chose to create our own concoctions. The number one homemade “burning” rubdown was a combination of baby oil and a drop or two of mercurochrome. It drew the sun to our skin like a moth to a flame. Of course our bodies felt like they were on fire shortly thereafter and our hands turned a bright reddish orange. (Q-T: Quick Tan had nothing on us)
Yes, that beautiful summertime glow…the one that gives us a lifelong kiss!
We all long for it in our youth, and pay for it in our prime.
Today, I don’t have to tan. I have a year round supply of color in the form of freckles. At any time, I can connect the freckles on my back and laugh at the variety of pictures that I can create by playing dot to dot...my favorite... the smiley face that smiles back at me!
Ahhhh yes, all because I tanned!
That “glow” came in the form of various concoctions during my teen years. There were sunlamps of course, but they required you to toast your body in sections little by little. It was like watching toast burn in the privacy of your own home. Toast here, flip over, and burn a little more.
If you selected to lie in the sun, a radio announcer was sure to come on and say “time to turn so you won’t burn!”
The secret to outdoor tanning was experimentation. Some tried the drugstore creams and tanning lotions, while many of us chose to create our own concoctions. The number one homemade “burning” rubdown was a combination of baby oil and a drop or two of mercurochrome. It drew the sun to our skin like a moth to a flame. Of course our bodies felt like they were on fire shortly thereafter and our hands turned a bright reddish orange. (Q-T: Quick Tan had nothing on us)
Yes, that beautiful summertime glow…the one that gives us a lifelong kiss!
We all long for it in our youth, and pay for it in our prime.
Today, I don’t have to tan. I have a year round supply of color in the form of freckles. At any time, I can connect the freckles on my back and laugh at the variety of pictures that I can create by playing dot to dot...my favorite... the smiley face that smiles back at me!
Ahhhh yes, all because I tanned!
Monday, February 7, 2011
Mayhem-If It Quacks Like A Duck
It was a sunny morning in Wilmington, North Carolina. (There is a reason they call the skies, Carolina blue!) On this particular Saturday morning in July the temperature had soared to 85 degrees and it was only 9:30 a.m.
The children’s “kiddie” pool needed to be filled with clean water. What was currently in it from the previous day’s play session, looked more like the sea weed lagoon from some hidden cove in the North Pacific. I went outside to empty the green grassy grunge when a slithering sneaky snake caught my attention. I screamed a blood-curdling scream that could have raised the hackles on any dog in the next five counties!
I ran inside to get my husband. He told me to get the hoe and kill it. “Get the hoe and kill it?” “Are you crazy? It’s a S-N-A-K-E….not a snail!”
Our next door neighbor had heard my tormented cry of anguish and came to see about the problem. When I described the creature to him he said it sounded like a legless lizard; not a snake.
Hold the phone…a what? A legless lizard?
He explained they were also known by the name of “glass snakes” but they were really part of the lizard family.
We checked around the pool area and to my relief this lizard with no legs had “walked” off.
As my children played that day in their little wading pool, I kept a watchful eye for this reptile with no legs. In my book, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck; or in this case, a snake with an apparent leg disability.
The children’s “kiddie” pool needed to be filled with clean water. What was currently in it from the previous day’s play session, looked more like the sea weed lagoon from some hidden cove in the North Pacific. I went outside to empty the green grassy grunge when a slithering sneaky snake caught my attention. I screamed a blood-curdling scream that could have raised the hackles on any dog in the next five counties!
I ran inside to get my husband. He told me to get the hoe and kill it. “Get the hoe and kill it?” “Are you crazy? It’s a S-N-A-K-E….not a snail!”
Our next door neighbor had heard my tormented cry of anguish and came to see about the problem. When I described the creature to him he said it sounded like a legless lizard; not a snake.
Hold the phone…a what? A legless lizard?
He explained they were also known by the name of “glass snakes” but they were really part of the lizard family.
We checked around the pool area and to my relief this lizard with no legs had “walked” off.
As my children played that day in their little wading pool, I kept a watchful eye for this reptile with no legs. In my book, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck; or in this case, a snake with an apparent leg disability.
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