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Once upon a time, green was a color. Part of the amazing spectrum of light and reflection created by God himself, it magically appeared when blue finger paint touched yellow finger paint. There was a green crayon in EVERY box of Crayolas, even the ones that didn’t have a burnt sienna or a built- in sharpener. It was predominant in nature – in the ocean, in rainforests, and in the yards of suburbia.
Then, green became a cause, a movement, a lifestyle and a place to “go”. Being green was thought to be harder than being another color. The green lifestyle was more expensive than the alternative even as it was considered to be more responsible and friendly to the planet. It many ways, being green came to evoke a certain status and superiority over those that didn’t act “green”. From then on, when someone spoke of green, it was hard to know what they were talking about – the color or the cause.
Did you know that, once upon a time, green was a color?
I am a Southern girl with a Southern son and I am doing my best to teach him to be a Southern gentleman (as opposed to the type of Southern man that can be described in other ways). Don’t get me wrong, I laugh to the point of tears when I hear a Jeff Foxworthy routine but, given the choice, I would rather not live one.
Anyway…
There are several things that I am working to teach my children. These are not new ideas. Many people would call them old-fashioned, but I consider them to be some of “the basics” as far as manners and civility are concerned:
- Keep your white bucks clean.
- Always have a pair of white bucks to wear between Easter and Labor Day.
- Say “Ma’am” and “Sir” when answering grownups.
- Miss (fill in the first name of a grownup here) or Mister (fill in the first name of a grownup here) is not appropriate for children older than 3, or maybe 4. Mrs. _____________ and Mr. _________________ is what grownups should be called.
- Please, Thank You, Your Welcome and No Thank You are not negotiable.
- Spanking is always an option.
- Eating is not a competition or a race to see who finishes first.
- Men (and boys) do not wear hats inside.
- Men should always open doors for women (even after they are married).
For the most part, my children know and understand these basics. We are working on them using them ALL THE TIME instead of accidentally but that is another story. What I am having the most trouble with, right now, is teaching my son to leave his hat somewhere other than his head when he is under a roof! The growing numbers of men and boys that I see wearing hats inside are not making this lesson any easier. I have no problem explaining (and defending the seeming “double standard”) that women can wear hats anytime and anyplace, but I have yet to make a decent argument for why it’s OK for some men to wear hats inside while I make him take his off.
“I know they are wearing a hat inside but WE don’t do that,” as an explanation isn’t going to cut it forever!
Maybe taking hats off in public is old-fashioned…Maybe it doesn’t matter that much since most men don’t wear hats anymore…Maybe I need to pick a battle that means more in terms of the big picture…
But I don’t want to. I want to fight this battle, even if it is an “old-fashioned” one.
I want to see my son’s face when I am across the table from him at a restaurant.
I want his bright eyes and table manners not to be overshadowed by the logo of a sports team.
I want him to know that removing his hat is a sign of respect.
I want to watch him take it off because he really feels respect for the other people around him, not because I told him he had to.
Someday, I want his dates to gaze into eyes she can see instead of having to hunch down to find him under the brim of a hat!
I don’t think I am being unreasonable here. All I am asking is that no man, anywhere EVER wear a hat inside a building again. It will make teaching this lesson to my son a whole lot easier!
I am waiting on some books that I have reserved to arrive at the library. Until then, I am reading these (in no particular order):
Write It When I’m Gone - Thomas M. DeFrank
The Essence of the Thing – Madeleine St. John
Inside My Heart – Robin McGraw
Dear Son,
Welcome home from your first week at “spend the night” camp. I know that it’s an experience that you won’t forget. I am sure that Daddy and I won’t forget it either!
I am so proud of you for going, trying and learning new things. That is not always easy to do and many kids your age wouldn’t do it so eagerly. I was grown before I felt confident enough to try situations I wasn’t sure of. Even now, there are times when my lack of confidence wins and I don’t experience something good because I am too afraid to try. Obviously, that is not an issue for you.
I am thankful that you were able to be in a place surrounded by people that were fun and that were enjoying you as much as you were enjoying them. The counselors and the camp staff took excellent care of you and Daddy and I were not worried for even a minute about your safety and security.
I am humbled to know that you experienced God, this week, in ways that you never have before. Certainly, you saw the beauty of His creation up close. Also, you came in contact with people that know Him and love Him and serve Him diligently. I hope that you will remember those experiences in the days ahead and strive to live a life pleasing to Him.
I remember some of my own camp experiences and I know that it can be hard to come home after a good week. At camp, there are songs in your heart, beauty all around you, friends, games and laughing until it hurts. Coming home is definitely a “let down”. It’s ok to be sad for a little while. Just know that the God who walked with you in the woods walks with you at home and at school too! Don’t worry about your friends either. The friendships you form at camp are the kind that stay strong no matter where you are.
I am thrilled to know that you are already looking forward to going back to camp next year. I hope that you will look forward to returning there for many years to come. God willing, someday you’ll be a leader. And you’ll have a really great story about the first year you spent the night away at camp!
Until then, I missed you (even if you didn’t miss me) and I am happy to have you clean and safely tucked into your own bed!
Always,
Mom
My son needs a new backpack so I am entering the contest at Owlhaven. If someone in your house needs a new backpack, head that way and get your name in the hat!
Off and on for the last several years, my husband and I have contemplated installing one of those backyard play “systems”. It would replace the plain, wooden swingset that my husband and father-in-law built when my oldest child was a baby. Today, my children are 7 and 5 and the swingset is one of their favorite places. I can’t even begin to count the hours that they have spent there! I enjoy the If You Give A Mouse A Cookie book. Here’s my backyard version…
If you build a backyard swingset, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy and you can hang a toddler swing on it. When that toddler has been hanging on you all day, it will be the perfect place to “hang” him for awhile!
If you build a backyard swingset, there will come a day when you need a 2nd swing – one for the new toddler living at your house and a bigger one for the 1st toddler that used it.
If you build a backyard swingset, you’ll buy new chain when you change to big swings for everyone.
If you build a backyard swingset, it will be the soccer goal, the football goalpost and one of the bases on a baseball diamond. It will be a castle and a pirate ship and a fort and home base for hide-and-seek.
If you build a backyard swingset, you might be tempted to think that you should add other pieces to it. You will shop for climbing walls and slides and picnic tables and sandboxes. Then, you’ll go home to think about it. You might even measure a space and layout a box, but the extras will cost more than you want to spend or the weather will start to turn cold. Then, you’ll decide “just to leave the swingset”.
If you build a backyard swingset, you’ll witness confrontation, teamwork, diplomacy and “state secrets” being compromised, literally, in your own backyard. Your children will use their imaginations in ways you could never plan or predict. They will reluctantly come inside to eat and sleep and they will always wish for longer days and moons that light the night.
If you build a backyard swingset, they will play like everyone should (and many don’t have time for anymore). Best of all, they might never know they don’t have a play “system” to do it on!
originally posted on rplcommunications.blogspot.com on 3/5/2008
My best guess is that there are at least 17 “extra” pill boxes laying around our house. You know, those plastic boxes that are sectioned into days of the week and/or times of the day. There are daily boxes, weekly boxes and monthly boxes. There are boxes for single daily doses and multiple daily doses. There are travel boxes, detachable boxes, box caddies, colored boxes and shaped boxes. Whatever your medicine routine, there is probably a box designed and shaped specifically for it!
My husband, who happens to be a pharmacist, has a number of “regular” pills that he takes. He has morning pills and evening pills and they are not the same. Over time, he has brought home numerous give away boxes from work. As his medication needs have changed, he has also bought some boxes. Ultimately, I think he is hoping to find a box that is marked and sectioned (and probably shaped and colored too) the same way he sees his medicine routine in his head. To that end, he has “re-labeled” a couple of the monthly boxes to fit his routine. Now, about once a month (usually on a Friday or Saturday night), he lays all his pills out on the bed and fills the big box. Don’t tell ME the romance is gone! In truth, I don’t mind. Those pills, literally, keep him alive. I would much rather have him refilling his pillbox on a “date night” than not having him here at all.
For most of my life, I have been fortunate to be healthy enough not to need any regular medicine. Consequently, I am not a pillbox afficianado like my husband. Not yet, anyway. It seems that, in recent months, I have begun to pick up the pace on my pills. With every medical checkup I complete, my medicine is becoming more “regular” – a vitamin here, a prescription there, allergy medicine and pain relievers when the weather changes, and migraine medicine when I don’t catch the allergy headache in time. On any given day, I have 2-4 doses of medicine to take on a schedule.
Here’s what I’ll do…I’ll use a pillbox to keep track of all that. This weekend, it will be MY medicine spread on the bed while I fill one of the pillboxes that wouldn’t work for my husband. All this talk about pillboxes is okay, I guess. I just wish I was discussing a hat instead!
originally posted on rplcommunications.blogspot.com on 3/14/2008
As we walked across the preschool parking lot recently, my daughter pointed out the empty handicapped parking spaces close to the door…
“Mom, you see those blue lines?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“You know what they are?”
“Tell me, ” I said.
“That’s where the Cadillacs park!”
After delivering her to her classroom, I had to call my mom to tell her about my daughter’s observation. After my mother (who drives a Cadillac with a handicapped tag) quit chuckling, she made an announcement…
“I have to go. I’m going to buy a new car!”
originally published on rplcommunications.blogspot.com on 5/6/2008
For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to drive a Volvo Station Wagon.
Long before I met my husband…
Long before I even thought about having children…
Long before Volvos were cool…
I wanted to drive one.
I liked the design and they seemed practical There was plenty of room but they weren’t a van and they weren’t an SUV. In fact, it was like having the room of a van or SUV without having to hike my dress up to get in it on Sunday morning before church! If I happened to be out shopping and decided to buy a chair or a bike or a new table, I could just “load it in the station wagon”.
Recently, it came time to buy a different car. During our relationship (11+ years), my husband has heard me talk about Volvo station wagons so much that he knew that was where we were headed.
“I don’t even need to see it ahead of time,” I announced.
Thankfully, he didn’t pay any attention to me. He refused to buy me a car that I had not driven. Apparently, Volvo station wagons come with one of 2 types of engines (turbo and non-turbo). He thought I should drive one of each and see which I liked best. All the while, I am thinking that I don’t care what kind of engine it is as long as it always starts when I turn the key! Eventually, I agreed that I shouldn’t sign the papers on a car that I hadn’t driven but I assumed driving the Volvo was a mere formality.
Almost as soon as we left the dealer’s parking lot, I made an awful discovery. I didn’t LIKE the Volvo Station Wagon! Other than the seats, which were heavenly, I didn’t like anything about it. This was like breastfeeding all over again. I was prepared for it not to work or for the kids to not catch on but I wasn’t ready to not like it! Now what?
Later that day, I fell in love with another car and we bought. I love it and I am not sorry that I am not driving a Volvo station wagon. All those years I waited for the day that I could have the car of my dreams were wasted. When the day came and I merely had to say the word. Guess what? The word wasn’t Volvo. I guess that some fantasies are better left as fantasies. Sometimes, they turn out to be a lot more fun that way.
When my daughter is in a hurry or she has to make more than one trip taking toys, clothes, books, etc. to her room, she will announce that she is “too full of hands”. Most of the time, that means that her hands are full. Sometimes, it means that she isn’t sure what to do next. Always, it means that she has to slow down, think and finish the first thing first.
Until she started expressing her status in this way, I spent a lot of time wandering around in the same state without knowing what to call it or how to explain it to anyone. Thanks to her, I now have the best description of my daily life that I have come across so far.
Undoubtedly, there are days when I feel too full of hands in a negative and frustrating way. After all, I am a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, Christian and on and on and on. They are completely separate roles but they are, most certainly, not mutually exclusive. Rarely, if ever, do I have the chance to only play one at a time and never do I have the option of discarding any of them.
The great thing about being too full of hands, though, is that it can be an incredibly positive predicament. On any given day, I find myself too full of blessings and too full of laughter and too full of gratitude to think that the bad stuff is more permanent than the good.
Too Full Of Hands, the blog, is my effort to entertain, enlighten and explain a little bit of how I juggle all the roles I play, even when my hands are full!
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