Last night, I had the opportunity to be cheered up and delighted by my son. After waking up with a horrid sore throat and achy bones yesterday, I rested all day long, watching Vanity Fair and The Darjeeling Ltd. and I took a 4 hour nap. When Ethan got home from a fun weekend with his Dad, I was ready to see him, but kind of down that we weren't going to the Super Bowl party with our friends and that we were stranded at home alone because I felt like poo and my parents went to watch the game with their Small Group.
But, Ethan made the whole night better by helping me make his dinner, stirring my coffee for me, and then when we sat down he gave me the best compliment he could come up with.
"Mom," he said, peeling his banana, spreading peanut butter on the top and taking a big bite. "You look like a banana because you're straight and bananas are straight."
"Oh really?" I asked. "So I'm yellow too?"
"No, just straight like a banana."
I love that the humor and creativity of my son can always make me laugh. He is such an encourager and challenges me to be one daily. I have never met a more friendly 4-year-old and since I have a tendency to be socially awkward with people, he stretches me when he talks with the random person in the store and asks them to come over to our house. I think that's how life is supposed to be. Inviting the poor, inviting the unknown into our homes as a chance to love them. Of course, the person never takes him seriously and they don't follow us home. Yet, I am so much more hesitant than my son, who knows no fear of people, to open up and serve in that encouraging way.
So, as I was sitting there last night with him, I thought of the future, something I'm not completely sure of as of yet. (Yet, after hearing about a guy whose life was completely rocked by a trip to Turkey, though he's more alive now than he has EVER been, I am encouraged). But last night, I was not encouraged and thought of trying to survive financially and what kind of place we will live in if I go to graduate school or if I don't. I wonder where we'll live if I don't go to grad. school and the questions go on. They are limitless. I wonder how Ethan will feel if we're poor. Ethan seems to have a mind-reading ability and right at that moment he shattered all fears.
"Mmmmm....expensive," Ethan said.
I laughed and said, "What? You're licking peanut butter off a knife."
"The taste of peanut butter is expensive mom. Yummmmmm."
What can I fear when my son feels the cheapest staple at the grocery store tastes like money? His inclination to prefer a fold-over in a blanket (which is peanutbutter on half a piece of bread, "folded-over," and then wrapped in a paper-towel, the blanket) for every meal throws out my idea that one day he will scorn the fact that peanut butter may be our only choice for that day.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Hamsters Stink and Other Thoughts
The idealistic has worn off. The cute hamster with her babies have hit the fan, not in a literal way, but boy has it been a week of feeling that overwhelming stench of hamster poo upon my first step in the bathroom. Not only in that action, but throughout my life this week, I've been severely overwhelmed by every dirty hamster cage in my way.
The inability to find another part time job right now discourages me thoroughly. But then I hear about 66-year-old men struggling to find a job because the company they work for just fired over 22,000 people. I can't even imagine the sudden loss of the ability to support my family at such an age where the only thing you're supposed to think about it what socks to put on in the morning and if the weather is warm enough to go fishing or not. Actually I can in some ways as my father has been without a "real" job for the last year, but honestly our family has been completely fine and so I haven't been wondering where my next meal will come from or if my water/electricity will be cut off, though here at the Farm we have electric heat and rarely is our house warm on cold nights. I've learned to wear slippers.
The disappointment in friendship and the imperfection of us all has been a downfall. I hate that I mostly expect everyone else to be perfect though I'm completely content to accept or even pretend like my own griefs and selfishness don't exist. I found myself unable to listen to a friend talk about the nit-picky details of their day simply because I wanted to talk about a random occurence in my life. The point of life is to serve. There is nothing I was doing that served anyone but myself in that situation.
I've been learning about patience and "candor without malice." How does that really work? Where is the balance of loving someone and correcting them in that without the slightest bit of selfishness falling into it? It tormented me to the point of almost physical illness last night as I ran through all situations of how to correct a dearly loved and close friend without letting my own ideas of self and their situation seep into my words.
The stages of life have jumped out at me as well. While talking with one of my closest companions this week, I gained some insight into the older years. My grandparents haven't lived anywhere near me and I don't ever remember seeing them in the hospital. But when I was talking to him about his granddad, I was amazed by the words he spoke. "I'm not scared to go up there and see him sick like that anymore. This is a phase of his life, being sick, and I want to know him in it and be a part of it. Just because he's in the hospital doesn't mean his life stops. He's still my granddad every day." So often, I find myself writing off visiting people or being involved in their lives because it has changed from when I was more involved in it. I make up excuses not to go see them or take the extra initiative to drive across town. Yet, they continue to be the same person they were out of the hospital, when they lived closer, when they worked at the same location I did, etc. The list goes on and on.
And when I went and visited that friend's granddad today I was so amazed at the life still in his step, our conversation, and in his hope of recovery, something that is still unseen to him, but that he waits for with patience. I laughed with him and his wife about different things that happen when you get old (like wearing stockings to stop swelling), my young son's smart aleck antics, and the "town characters" in their hometown near Florence. It didn't matter that we were in a sterile hospital environment where a nurse could walk in at any moment, or that I had to run down the hall to find a bathroom since the one there was specifically for him. It felt as comfortable as if I was in their living room. My dear friend was right....knowing someone at every phase in life, especially the hard ones, only makes that relationship richer and the extra effort and selflessness it may take to put your emotions in check and walk into that hospital room, often end up leading to moments of laughter and thankfulness at what life brings.
I think I'll go back tomorrow and take a DVD player to him, enabling him to watch the movies I rented. But more than that, it will be an opportunity to learn more about someone else in the world other than me.
The inability to find another part time job right now discourages me thoroughly. But then I hear about 66-year-old men struggling to find a job because the company they work for just fired over 22,000 people. I can't even imagine the sudden loss of the ability to support my family at such an age where the only thing you're supposed to think about it what socks to put on in the morning and if the weather is warm enough to go fishing or not. Actually I can in some ways as my father has been without a "real" job for the last year, but honestly our family has been completely fine and so I haven't been wondering where my next meal will come from or if my water/electricity will be cut off, though here at the Farm we have electric heat and rarely is our house warm on cold nights. I've learned to wear slippers.
The disappointment in friendship and the imperfection of us all has been a downfall. I hate that I mostly expect everyone else to be perfect though I'm completely content to accept or even pretend like my own griefs and selfishness don't exist. I found myself unable to listen to a friend talk about the nit-picky details of their day simply because I wanted to talk about a random occurence in my life. The point of life is to serve. There is nothing I was doing that served anyone but myself in that situation.
I've been learning about patience and "candor without malice." How does that really work? Where is the balance of loving someone and correcting them in that without the slightest bit of selfishness falling into it? It tormented me to the point of almost physical illness last night as I ran through all situations of how to correct a dearly loved and close friend without letting my own ideas of self and their situation seep into my words.
The stages of life have jumped out at me as well. While talking with one of my closest companions this week, I gained some insight into the older years. My grandparents haven't lived anywhere near me and I don't ever remember seeing them in the hospital. But when I was talking to him about his granddad, I was amazed by the words he spoke. "I'm not scared to go up there and see him sick like that anymore. This is a phase of his life, being sick, and I want to know him in it and be a part of it. Just because he's in the hospital doesn't mean his life stops. He's still my granddad every day." So often, I find myself writing off visiting people or being involved in their lives because it has changed from when I was more involved in it. I make up excuses not to go see them or take the extra initiative to drive across town. Yet, they continue to be the same person they were out of the hospital, when they lived closer, when they worked at the same location I did, etc. The list goes on and on.
And when I went and visited that friend's granddad today I was so amazed at the life still in his step, our conversation, and in his hope of recovery, something that is still unseen to him, but that he waits for with patience. I laughed with him and his wife about different things that happen when you get old (like wearing stockings to stop swelling), my young son's smart aleck antics, and the "town characters" in their hometown near Florence. It didn't matter that we were in a sterile hospital environment where a nurse could walk in at any moment, or that I had to run down the hall to find a bathroom since the one there was specifically for him. It felt as comfortable as if I was in their living room. My dear friend was right....knowing someone at every phase in life, especially the hard ones, only makes that relationship richer and the extra effort and selflessness it may take to put your emotions in check and walk into that hospital room, often end up leading to moments of laughter and thankfulness at what life brings.
I think I'll go back tomorrow and take a DVD player to him, enabling him to watch the movies I rented. But more than that, it will be an opportunity to learn more about someone else in the world other than me.
Monday, January 26, 2009
The First Slumber Party and My Birthday
Last night, for MY birthday, Ethan was allowed to have his BFF, Wyatt, who is 3, spend the night. My mother asked, "Is it Ethan's birthday, or yours?" To this question, I laughed but today I'm yawning instead. The boys went nuts. The most hilarious moments happened when they tried to boss each other around and immediately put on their mommy and daddy tones of frustration and criticism. Ethan said to Wyatt, "Wyatt, that is not funny. I told you to come back right now." Of course, Wyatt listened after giving Ethan and "What? - Wes Andrews look." However, they are still friends and Ethan and Wyatt both asked me today why they can't spend the night together every night. And the answer to that is because Sage and I both need sleep.
Otherwise, my birthday went well with an amazingly creative present from Mr. Tyler LaCross, available below.
Happy Birthday Melissa Turner from Tyler La Cross on Vimeo.
Only 10:30 and I'm ready for bed. It's amazing to me that for the first time in my life, I have only a part-time job and no school, woot woot for graduating, yet I am so busy I rarely get a moment to sit down. I can't imagine adding another part-time job to the sitch, though that is the current goal.
Goals for tomorrow include:
Inquire about hostess position at Starfire
Work at the church
Pick Ethan up from School
Down only 4 cups of coffee
Make invitations for saturday - wallet party
Bake some bread
Otherwise, my birthday went well with an amazingly creative present from Mr. Tyler LaCross, available below.
Happy Birthday Melissa Turner from Tyler La Cross on Vimeo.
Only 10:30 and I'm ready for bed. It's amazing to me that for the first time in my life, I have only a part-time job and no school, woot woot for graduating, yet I am so busy I rarely get a moment to sit down. I can't imagine adding another part-time job to the sitch, though that is the current goal.
Goals for tomorrow include:
Inquire about hostess position at Starfire
Work at the church
Pick Ethan up from School
Down only 4 cups of coffee
Make invitations for saturday - wallet party
Bake some bread
Saturday, January 24, 2009
A Day in the Life of a Snow Bunny
Out here at the Farm, the snow day was filled with absolute creativity and spontaneity. Ethan's ability to handle cold and wet amazed me and he never once complained about the snow and played in it for hours. Being the first snow he's been able to remember, his surprise at seeing it and his anticipation for playing in it was much more evident than any Christmas present he received this year, something confirmed as well by Minnemie and her boys. It's evidence to go towards the idea that a fun trip to the north would suit better than many Christmas toys quickly forgotten.
Amazingly, none of my family had to work and school was cancelled, so my parents, Ethan, and I built a snowman completely decked out with washers for eyes, a carrot nose, and ultimately a hard hat. My father's perfectionistic side quickly surfaced as he made sure everything was smooth and there were no leaves or dirt in the snow. Ethan also made snow angels and after "Daddy," Jeff, arrived, we all went sledding.
Our sled-mobile initially started out with a $5 special from Roses, the pink plastic mess of a sled. But with my father and Jeff's creativity, we made sides for the sled, pulled Ethan around the yard as he yelled "mush" to his "sled dogs" and finally, hooked the sled up to the 4-wheeler and my father pulled Jeff, Ethan, and me around the yard, pulling doughnuts in the field and eventually knocking both Jeff and I from the sled - a winter wonderland wipeout. Ethan, however, enjoyed a leisurely ride and looked as if he was about to take a nap instead of panic for fear of tumbling out.
The day was complete with lentil-vegetable soup and toasted homemade bread. Then a nap. Needless to say, it was an amazing day of deep snow (for SC), a jaunt through the beautiful woods, and many layers of clothes.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Hamster Fiasco
As I'm typing this, a hamster sits beside the computer in a Blowfish shoe box. It's really quite an amazing story about how it got there. A few days before Christmas, one of my professors suggested I get Ethan, my 4-year-old, a hamster or pet for Christmas. I went to Pet Lover's, later called Pet Haters by a few people I know, to get a beta fish and ended up with both a beta and a hamster because as an adult who never had a hamster as a child, I felt like having a hamster would be fun for me as well. However, going into this I fully realized I would be completely in charge of this hamster as Ethan cannot care for a pet by myself.
Ethan was so excited to receive his hamster Christmas morning and donned the name Charlie for him. But the real surprise came three days later when Charlie, the apparently girl, had eight babies. I walked in on Monday morning and poof, eight little pink jelly beans sat in the midst of the hamster bedding, wheel and food. They didn't have open eyes or fur and were quite revolting. When my friend Andy asked how they were doing, I announced them to be healthy and that Charlie was being a good mom (because I'd heard hamsters eat their babies which would be a weird thing to explain to Ethan), to which Andy replied, "Drown them!" Honestly, I'd thought about it and was quite disappointed in my single-mother hamster (the little skank), though I'm quite the same situation in a completely different, non-animalistic way.
As the hamster grew, they became more tolerable though quickly filled up the cage, driving Charlie crazy. She escapes a few times a day in her hamster ball, running around the room and relieving all the pressure of being a mom. Until this week, I had all eight in one cage, but slowly I'm sending them to their own homes, and I have six left, including the little guy sitting in front of me. He's headed home with my friend T. Bolger tonight as a surprise for his son Thomas. I really can't wait until this whole deal is finito and I can rest assured knowing Charlie has no other hamster to eat. It haunts me nightly that I'll wake up one morning and there will be a blood-bath of hamster flesh and bone sprayed all over the cage. Let this nightmare be over quickly!
p.s. included are some pics of Ethan from Christmas break. Ones of him being silly and one of him and Uncle Darren.
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