Forget about a Facebook highlight reel. You know, how they (whoever “they” might be) say that social media shows the pristine good. Because, who’s going post a picture of a college reject letter rather than the happy photo of your top pic school’s acceptance with the kid’s name on their scoreboard. I mean really. But truth is, I could since we got one yesterday. I also burned a bagel AGAIN(!), in the toaster. That’s easier to share. But, our house is about as far from highlight reel as you can get. It’s more of a highlight-REAL. Take this morning for example. I snooze my alarm at least five times. My great intentions of getting up early for a few quiet moments to myself so I can put some finishing an article whose deadline was Friday (operative word “was” – my attempt missed the mark so I’m rewriting a
Frustrated with my phone, I might have marched into the Apple Store yesterday. My phone has one of the recall batteries. All I really need to do is make an appointment and have the battery replace – for free – since it’s recalled. But, for whatever reason, I just haven’t made and kept the appointment. So I suffer along, ever-wondering if 53% battery life means 53% or if the phone will die in a matter of seconds. I’m living on the edge. Never sure if I will momentarily be completely cut off from civilization as I know it. Alone. Stranded in a carpool line with nothing but my thoughts! But another issue of late compelled me to finally address my phone issues. The phone quit receiving incoming texts. For all I know, the outgoing texts didn’t send either. But who can say? All I know is my complete and utter lack of responsive communication
Even though the teen years offer some interesting (mind-numbing) opportunities (challenges), one of my very favorite things that accompanies budding young adulthood is the rich conversation that doesn’t always, but sure can flow. I actually enjoy the fresh opinions and raw points of view that come with teen-talk, even though they sometimes feel more like an assault than a relationship builder. And, I appreciate how teens say what they’re thinking. I’m glad they push the envelope and don’t blindly ascribe to cultural norms (understatement) – at least norms are according to parents. And I’m glad they defend by clarifying (“That’s not what you said. I heard you say _____”) our conversations. Because, what they hear is so often not what I said – or meant to communicate.
I think I’m officially back from my little hiatus. We’re putting the final touches on I’m Happy For You (Sort of … not really), so I’m starting to breathe a bit more freely. I’ve been drowning in words and just couldn’t subject you guys to more. Of course, get a little burr under my saddle – and she’s back (eek!) “Do you remember ever having rubrics in school?” I asked a friend this morning on the phone. “I’m not sure I completely agree with their use … or at least exclusively. What do you think? “What’s a rubric?” she asked. I was surprised she asked. She has kids in college. I know she’s had to bump up against these things. “You know, those guidelines they give the kids to follow when writing a paper or doing a project. It tells them exactly what they have to
I’m sitting amidst my Christmas cards that were so going to be sent Saturday – as in last Saturday. How could a week have passed?! I sat in the same place yesterday. At my dining room table. Looking at envelopes and cards and various address books – since I’ve never compiled a list so things like this could be easy. No I’m working off multiple directories, an old computer address book and addressed-but-never-sent cards from Christmas’ Past. I guess it must be overwhelming since my current scheduled trip to the Post Office keeps getting delayed. Yesterday the cards were back-burnered again. And it was a wonderful delay. Because what can be better than being delayed by a friend. That’s not delay – it’s a delight. Mid-addressing a card, my friend Katie called. “Hey girlee,” I said, thrilled to be
Some days, on special days, I stop by Eatzi’s, a terrific local take-out market, and grab a sandwich and a large ice-tea to go. Eatzi’s always has taste-stations for patrons to test their goods scattered around the store. These chips were available last week. I ate one three. I got my sandwich and circled back by the chip bowl, pretending to be intrigued and “tasted” one five again. Then I bought a bag. Oh my word … they are so delicious. Seriously. Those chips are a party in your mouth. They’re so wonderful and horrible at the same time. They trick you into thinking they’re some regular chip. But about halfway through chewing, the fire starts. It’s so hot. It burns but doesn’t consume. It leaves you mouth smoking for several minutes – a reminder of their presence, or
Two things that should probably never be in the same sentence are “Kay Wyma” and “Cafeteria Cashier.” It has something to do with my Overtalkers Anonymous recovery program (kids waiting in a line with their food trays just wanting to pay and sit down – they don’t have much interest in chatting) and my technological challenges. A couple years ago, our Middle School cafeteria went the way of the computer. And after having been a cashier in the cash days (where we had to do the math in our heads – let’s just say I added a good $20 at the end of my shift to help my drawer end well after all my mistakes), I’m happy for the electronic upgrade. But somehow I still manage to get lost and struggle to give a kid the right change and press buttons that result in booting me out of the system. But no worries, plenty of real help –
To dream the impossible dream… :) “When did more than napkins fill this space?” I asked aloud as I tried to pry open an overstuffed drawer. I looked at the kid next to me who simply needed a pencil to finish his homework. Pencils and hair ties – no matter how many we buy, they disappear. Where in the world do they go? I guess not in the drawer where I thought I had put them. But how would anyone know. We can barely open it. At any time over the last year, I could have stopped what I was doing, emptied the drawer, thrown away junky peripherals and organized it. But we all know that wasn’t going to happen. Too many plates in the air. I can do it tomorrow. Tomorrow. I guess tomorrow has come and gone a few times. We’ve lived in our house for about a year and a half. Before we moved here, we lived at my folks house while we remodeled this house.
Y’all remember Courtney DeFeo (Lil’ Light O’Mine) who has been such an encouragement on appreciating and watching out for folks in our lives that sometimes get overlooked or underthanked? Well, she’s just written a book. And I asked her to share something from it. She cracks me up – and blesses me at the same time. Might she encourage us all in our role as CMO (Chief Mood Officer). Because, even when the moods are bad – here’s hoping we can laugh in the midst, because we are ALL there at one time or another. Thanks for sharing Courtney! …and thanks for walking the road with me. -K Do you know what happens when you ask your kids a question? You get an honest answer. I was basically fishing for a compliment. The conversation went like this with my five-year-old. We had just moved to Orlando
The following reminder is by our dear friend Kathleen Fischer. I hope her words bless you like they did me. When I saw this, it reminded me of something I read last week by Tim Elmore on listening (from Habitudes). He said there are 5 types of bad listening. And, even though generic in nature, they seem to be especially applicable to the way I/we tend to listen to teens. Judgmental listening – jumping to conclusions about the speaker Selective listening – only hearing what you want to hear Impatient listening – finishing other people’s sentences, interrupting them Egocentric listening – thinking about what you’ll say as others are talking Patronizing listening – pretending to listen, but really off in your own world Stubborn listening – listening, but not open – your