A Musing Mother 6

I bought some nice hedge shears last week.  It was time.  I hadn't trimmed the bushes properly since I borrowed some really nice shears from my neighbor last year.  I borrowed them from his son who was happy to share.  While I was trimming the bushes, a truck pulled up and dumped off my neighbor.  He was then met by an ambulance that whisked him off to the hospital.  He'd been training for the Ragnar Relay and stepped in a hole.  He tore his ACL.  He overcompensated with his other leg and tore that ACL, too.  And there I stood with his nice hedge shears, feeling a little like a criminal since I hadn't sought his permission and now he was laying on the ground groaning.  Somehow I felt responsible for his troubles. So I let my bushes shoot out like an old man's eyebrows until I capitulated and bought my own shears.  This is the point of the story where I butcher the bushes.  One bush looked particularly sickly.  By the time I pulled all the climbing weeds off it, I realiz

Dear Jack, We've had a good a run.  I found your voice quite sexy.  I enjoyed the accent.  Such a nice change from that American woman whose voice went all digital every time she said "north."  But now you've lost my trust.  That's right, I don't trust you.  Worse, I question your skills of discernment and differentiation.  Let me illustrate.  I went from this: to this: Do you see the problem here, Jack?  Not only that, but I was driving along when you suddenly told me to turn here: I really wanted to, I love the foliage but, as you can see, the road you indicated is lacking.  You recalculated and told me to turn on a second road.  I saw a hint of it, but it didn't look well traveled.  You can't expect me to be Robert Frost.  Not right then.  I was late and lost.  I let my guard down and that's when I trusted you.  Thank you for the scenic route. I was already enjoying the scenery. Fortunately, I've grown accustomed to your presence. Your com

I realize the season finale aired in June but, thanks to the beautiful invention of DVR, I saved Glee for today. Mostly, I wanted to hear Josh Groban sing.  He did not. Regardless, I was not disappointed.  In retrospect, I realize the song choices for this season were primarily from the 1980s. Let's recap: Journey - Don't Stop Believin', Faithfully Kiss - Beth and another big hair song. Grease - You're the One That I Want Eric Carmen - All By Myself Heart - Alone Bon Jovi - It's My Life The Police - Don't Stand So Close to Me Madonna - Papa Don't Preach, etc., etc. Cyndi Lauper - True Colors REO Speedwagon - Can't Fight this Feelin' Rick Springfield - Jesse's Girl Billy Joel Aerosmith Queen Billy Idol Olivia Newton John (the be-otch!) - Physical Little House on the Prairie with Michael Landon ending every episode in tears. Do you see it?  The vintage music.  It's haute.  This is my era. Am I vintage or am I haute?  Strange, I used to be striv

This morning, while lounging in bed with the 5 year old taking over my side, I gazed at how perfectly amazing and beautiful he looked and then I thought I might sleep just a little longer. And then he farted a nice and loud one.  I don't know if he woke up from the sound of the fart or the sound of my muffled giggles. Why do farts from little boys = grown ups with the sense of humor of little boys?

Barely 15 and very short for her age, Sylvia spoke English with a heavy accent, barely making eye contact.  She was shy and uncertain but her way was clear.  She needed to work to support her family.  It was too difficult to come to school.  Her mother worked at a local restaurant and helped her get hired, too.  Even though her shifts were in the afternoon, she assured me that she was dropping out. I'm not too proud to admit that I begged her to keep going.  Her transcript spoke volumes of her intellect and determination.  Even her standardized testing scores contradicted her poverty and lack of educational drive.  But she maintained a resolution of acceptance.  This was her destiny.  It was better than before, but it wasn't her potential.  I grieved. I met Kylie when she stepped into my office one day to announce she couldn't do math and she'd just give up.  Kylie was all of 14 years old.  She stood 5 feet tall, 80 lbs. soaking wet, 20 of those sheer attitude.  Her hai

I'm frightened. Hold me.

Every so often I feel the need to post photos of random children that I don't know (my sister's youngest but I'm protecting her identity) All in a feeble attempt to prove to myself and the world that my children are completely normal in comparison. Yep. Completely normal.

When my sister called, I had my shoes laced up before she finished breaking the news.  I knew my dad was in the hospital.  The doctor came out to talk to her so she said she'd call me back but I was running out the door, keys in hand by the time I pushed "end." I found the ICU waiting room by the voices in the hallways.  My Utah sisters, my brother and my mom were already there. A nurse entered the room to let us know he was settled into his room, hooked up to all the necessary equipment and we could visit him two at a time.  Eventually, we kicked out my brother and we three sisters entered the unit.  At the end of a hall stood a young woman, just outside of a room.  She was pacing in circles and sobbing into her cell phone.  My sisters and I looked at each other.  We have each other.  Couldn't we spare one of us to comfort her? Once in my dad's room, we talked to him, fussed over him and were eventually kicked out due to the hour.  The sobbing woman was gone but

http://www.yourldsneighborhood.com/newsletters/wednesday_20100901.html Actually, just pride. And selfishness. I just wanted to share. Thank you, Joan for seeing it and sending it to me. Thank you, Unknown Person, who submitted it. I'm glowing. Can you feel it?