Category: AtoZ Challenge

Queen #atozchallenge

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I think it would be grand to be Queen for a day. It would be great to have someone to do my bidding: fetch my shoes, drive me around, make my meals? Oh, and do my grocery shopping! Yes, I would like to be queen for a day.

I would spend the day being waited on hand and foot, and I might even indulge in a massage. I would definitely delegate the tasks I least like to perform: laundry, grocery shopping, and cleaning toilets. Yes, I would enjoy a day—just one—as queen.

Heck, I’d settle for a day on the couch, reading a non-work-related book. Did I say a day? I meant an hour!

Period. #atozchallenge

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Recently, I found a chocolate bunny that was left over from the Easter holiday. I stuck it in a sandwich bag, and I broke it into pieces. (Had I done the reverse—broken it up and then put it in a sandwich bag, I might have lost some of the smaller pieces…). I had been eating little bits from the bag each night.

After a few days of this nibbling, I went into the pantry closet to have my nightly ration. I looked where I thought I had left the bag, but I couldn’t find it. I searched one bin, then another. No bag of bunny bits. Bummer.

I must be going crazy.

The following night, I thought I should look again. Perhaps I had missed it the day before.  Again, I searched the logical places, and again, I came up empty. Where could I have put that bag? I strained my memory trying to recreate my actions in returning the bag to the pantry.

“I know I had a chocolate Easter bunny in here,” I said to no one in particular. “I just can’t seem to find it.” I sighed. Loudly.

“Wait. That was yours?” C asked from where he sat in the living room.

I turned and looked through the doorway, studying him sitting on the couch, suddenly alert. “Did you eat it?” I asked accusingly.

“Nope. When W got home from school the other day, he found it in the pantry, and he asked if it was mine. I said no, so he assumed it was his. He ate it.”

“He ate my chocolate bunny?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” he said, sounding not quite certain. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“Ugh! I have been going crazy looking for that bunny!” I made the statement as dramatically as I could.

“Mom,” C retorted. “You are going crazy. Period.”

NO! #atozchallenge

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Recently, I have come to the strange realization that cat treats and human treats are contained in similar bags. Sometimes, when I pull out a bag of chocolate covered somethings, the cats will suddenly appear in the kitchen, believing that they might get a small tidbit to keep their poor selves from starving to death.

This evening, I took a bag of chocolate covered blueberries out of the pantry and put them on the kitchen table. As frequently happens, I was distracted by the need to complete a task, and I went upstairs. As I was coming down the stairs, I thought I heard the bag rustle, as if someone was eating my treats! This must be the sound the cats hear before they come running.

C was in the kitchen, eating a snack and getting ready for bed. I studied him for a moment, narrowing my eyes. “Are you eating my blueberries?”

He nodded. “Yep,” he stated proudly.

“Um… no,” I stated matter-of-factly. “Those are my treats.” I moved the bag just out of his arm’s reach. His arm stretched, he leaned, and he pulled them back toward him.

“They’re my treats, too,” he informed me.

“Nope,” I tried again. “I paid for them. That makes them my treats.” I offered what I thought to be an irrefutable argument.

“But I am eating them,” he informed me, his own logic trumping mine.

I sat down and pulled the bag closer. “Go on,” I joked. “Isn’t it bedtime?”

“Just a couple more,” he teased.

“No!” I waved him away, stifling a giggle. “These are mine!” I clutched them to my chest like a treasure. He disappeared upstairs. No doubt, the minute I am not looking, he will eat them.

The letters N and O. Perfect together, but not always what we want to hear.

Middle School #atozchallenge

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My youngest child is finishing up middle school this year and moving on to high school. I have to say that I couldn’t be happier. Overall, middle school has been my least favorite parenting experience. And it was my least favorite childhood experience, as well. Middle school is the time when children are forming their own identities away from their parents, moving into cliques, discovering what they might like to do, what they are good at, and realizing that they can project the things they don’t like in themselves onto others.

When my oldest entered our town’s middle school, I distinctly remember sitting in a parent meeting in the cafeteria with a large group of parents. The principal stood on stage giving her spiel, and finally, she proudly stated, “There is NO bullying in our school. None.” And then she turned to the students she had coerced to be on stage with her and said, “Isn’t that right, students?” To which they all nodded, looking like deer in headlights.

As a teacher, a parent, and a long-ago middle-school student, I remember thinking that principal must have buried her head so deeply in the sands of self-created utopia that she had no idea what was happening in the halls she walked each day. And in fact, I was correct.

There was plenty of bullying at our middle school. But there was also much opportunity for growth. Middle schools are tough places, and so I offer some thoughts to help prepare for this experience.

1. You will not find “your people” in middle school. There will be a lot of people there, but they might not be people that you want to hang out with. They might not even be people you like. Don’t be discouraged. You are more likely to find them your people high school, but you might not find them until college. You will eventually find people with whom you have much in common.

2. Don’t work on being popular. From my experience, middle school popularity (even high school popularity) is fleeting. The people who are popular now will find themselves in amongst people who are older and smarter and more popular than they are, and they won’t know how to fit themselves in with those people. Besides, the focus on popularity holds you back from true success in life.

3. Those people who look like they have it all together? The people who don’t accept you because you don’t play a sport or you don’t live in the right part of town? They are just as insecure as everyone else. If someone doesn’t accept you, that is a reflection on who they are, not who you are.

4. Middle school is just a brief period of time. I know it may seem like it lasts forever, but it will be over before you know it. Keep your focus on your school work and on developing the best you that you can be, and you will come out stronger and more amazing than when you started. You are enough, and you are exactly what this world needs. Develop your talents and figure out who you are becoming.

I am quite happy that we are reaching the end of our middle school experience. For all of you who are not, I wish you the best of luck. Remember: this too shall pass.

Lyme Light #atzchallenge

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Spring is taking hold here in the northeastern U. S., and our weather is slowly growing more temperate. In the springtime, I begin to see my neighbors again as people come out of their homes to enjoy the warm weather and bask in the sun’s bright rays.

However, spring also brings unwanted pests in the form of insects of all types, most notably, ticks. In these parts (as in most), ticks carry Lyme disease, as well as a whole host of other illness-inducing bacteria that most people have never even heard of.

I take some (albeit minimal) comfort in the fact that my cat is not currently going outside since his fall from the position of king of the food-chain (written here in my F-blog). His temporary status as an indoor cat will reduce the risk of ticks in the house. Before, I felt a need to vacuum him obsessively when he came indoors. With the frequency with which cats go in and out and in and out (and in and out…), my vacuum was in constant use. Keeping him in once the windows are open and the screen door is all that separates him from the outdoors will be increasingly difficult.

I have Lyme disease, a diagnosis that came after more than one bout with a “virus” that confined me to the couch for several days at a time—a roundabout way to say I was not immediately diagnosed. In fact, no one really knows how long I had the disease before I was diagnosed. That’s a funny thing about Lyme

The symptoms of Lyme mimic so many other diseases, it is important for everyone to know and recognize the signs and symptoms; if you are armed with knowledge, you will be prepared to advocate for yourself or for your loved ones. Lyme is a growing concern that is now found in 80+ countries around the world. Your ability to help yourself begins with awareness.

I was not in the woods. I don’t remember being bitten by a tick. In fact, I never saw a tick. I never had the telltale “bulls-eye” rash. The standard CDC recommended 28-day course of antibiotics did not make me better. Getting in to see a Lyme literate practitioner was a months-long process. Sadly, Lyme disease is a politically charged disease for which it is difficult to obtain proper, aggressive treatment. Below are some resources for education. If you know of other helpful resources, please share them in the comments.

Today’s Public Service Announcement has been brought to you by the letter L.

http://www.underourskin.com/#home-underourskin

https://www.lymedisease.org/lyme-basics/lyme-disease/about-lyme/

http://www.ilads.org/

Knives #atozchallenge

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“Hey Mom, I booby-trapped the sink!” C exclaimed as he shut the dishwasher and dried his hands. It had been his night to do the dishes.

I looked toward the sink, and saw he had placed several knives in the position in which (I will admit) I too frequently leave them. They were on the edge of the sink, half on the counter and half “in” the sink. The blades were in mid-air, pointing into the sink. I laughed.

C had commented on this habit of mine when he first started to work in the kitchen more often. “What is this, Mom?” he pointed to the knife of the moment, hovering over the  sink. I had used it to make a sandwich, and I wasn’t done with it. I still had more to do before I was ready to clean up the kitchen.

“Are you trying to kill someone? Look at this!” He pretended to slip, moving his hand too close to the knife. “I could cut off my finger just trying to wash my hands!” He was totally teasing, but logically, he was making a good point. Balancing a knife in that position, over a frequently used sink was probably not the best idea. Point taken.

But I still leave my knives on the edge of the sink. In the time it takes me to break the habit, the kids will have moved out.

Just so you know… #atozchallenge

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The students in C’s culinary program were preparing for some event or other last week. C came home one day to report that he had fried 168 chickens that day. He was in charge of frying while other students had their own tasks to complete. Actually, he didn’t say 168 chickens; he said 7 times 24 chickens. Interesting number.

Meanwhile, the thought that he had spent so much time with the fryolator slipped right out of my mind. Until, that is, he came home on Friday with his culinary uniform in a bag to be washed for the following week.

“Put that downstairs in the laundry room. It probably doesn’t smell too good,” I told him when he came into the house. When I was a teen, I did my time in a fast-food kitchen, and the smells of hot oil and friend foods came wafting back to me on the breezes of my memory.

C stared at me for a moment as he formed his thoughts into the words he needed to express his dismay. “Um… just so you know,” he started. “When I got in the car after school, my girlfriend said I smelled good. She said I smelled like a carnival!”

“Oh, fried dough!” I exclaimed, and the smells in my memory morphed into the smells of sweet dough mixed with fried onions and summer grass.

“Yeah, a carnival,” he said pointedly. “Just so you know.”

Ideas and Inspiration #atozchallenge

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The A to Z Challenge has piqued the interest of my children, even though they don’t always read the blog posts that result from discussions and suggestions they make about subject matter. The fact that mom is responding to assignments rather than simply writing when an idea comes is much like what they do in school, isn’t it?

Well… isn’t it?

Yesterday, our discussion focused around the letter I.

“What will you write for your I-blog, Mom?” C asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t have an idea yet.”

“’Idea!’ There’s your blog post,” he said triumphantly. As if simply saying a word could make it happen… I thought. An idea without inspiration just wasn’t going to happen.

“That’s it?” I asked him. “That’s your idea for I?”

He shrugged. “You used my idea for F. There’s no reason why you can’t use my idea for I.” He was smiling as he drove home his point by incorporating the very word he was suggesting into his statement.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” I assured him.

“I think it could work,” J chimed in. “After all, what else are you going to write about?”

“Igloo,” my boyfriend suggested. “That’s a good one.” I suppose it could be… if I knew anything about igloos. Which I don’t.

Ideas are funny though; they flit in and plant themselves in your brain, but then when you try to examine them, turn them around, and analyze them so you can write about them, they dig in their heels and refuse to budge. How many times had I struggled to write, even when I thought I had an idea? But then other times, I think I have no ideas when I sit down to write, and amazingly coherent pieces flow out.

Two days ago, for example, I sat down to write my H blog on happiness, but it didn’t happen that way, did it? A hiccup or two later, and here we are at the letter I.

No doubt, I will continue to get help with my ideas through the rest of the A to Z Challenge, and beyond. I’m happy to entertain any idea that’s thrown at me, but don’t be surprised if I sit down to write, and I end up with something completely different.

Ideas are funny like that.

Hiccups #atozchallenge

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When I was a kid, I would get the hiccups something fierce. My hiccups would often last the full day, and while I don’t remember them bothering me too much—other than being a serious annoyance—I think my parents would beg to differ. Once, I remember being on a roof, helping my father while he made some repairs. When my hiccups began, he made me get off the roof for fear I might fall.

My parents’ go-to hiccup cure was always a spoonful of sugar. Every time I had the hiccups, I would choke down that spoonful of dry granules, and every time, I would still have the hiccups.

My most memorable case of hiccups was one time when we were involved in a family activity in the kitchen—I can’t remember whether we were coloring Easter eggs or carving jack-o-lanterns, but it was that type of activity, and it clearly took all of my focus. As was typical for me, I had been suffering with the hiccups for the better part of the day. I had tried the spoonful of sugar cure. Twice.

My mother slipped out of the room unnoticed while I was hard at work on my project. We finished, and when we were in the middle of cleaning up, my father sent me upstairs to get something for him. As I rounded the corner from our living room to our front hall, my mother jumped out and scared me. In fact, she scared me so badly that I started to cry. The one consolation—my hiccups were gone.

Several years later, we had a book of natural remedies on approval through the Readers Digest book club. In that book, there was a cure for hiccups that sounded ridiculous. According to the book, if you took a tall glass of water, placed a spoon in the water, held the handle of the spoon between your teeth as you drank some of the water, you would cure the hiccups. Ha!

It wasn’t long before I was able to put this cure to the test. And it worked! The quickest and easiest cure for the hiccups ever! In the years since finding this cure, it has helped me, my children, and any hiccup-ridden person I come in contact with.

For me, this cure has worked 95% of the time. It’s much easier than choking down sugar, and much safer than being traumatized by your mother!

Guerilla Art #atozchallenge

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“I’m sorry. Did you say ‘gorilla art’?” I questioned my colleague. Having read The One and Only Ivan for a class I had taught, I was imagining a gorilla creating pictures and paintings, just like the gorilla in the book.

“Not gorilla, like a monkey,” she laughed. “Guerilla art.” This was a concept I had not heard of before. So I looked it up.

According to Keri Smith, guerilla art “…is a fun and insidious way of sharing your vision with the world. It is a method of art making which entails leaving anonymous art pieces in public places. It can be done for a variety of reasons, to make a statement, to share your ideas, to send out good karma, or just for fun.”

And that conversation, just two months ago, was the beginning. My office was guerilla-art-ified the very next day with colorful pieces of multi-media art and articles taken from nature. In truth, it was very funny and quite entertaining.

Fast forward to this week. I took Thursday off to catch up on sleep and recover from too many too-short nights strung together like beads on a seemingly endless chain. Once again, my office was guerilla-art-ified, this time with art focused around the subject my hunter kitty. And his prey.

The “dead” mouse on my keyboard. Priceless.

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