Have I Ever Been A Mrs. Turtle?

Have you ever been stuck behind a turtle driver when you’re in a hurry?  Have you ever been in line behind the woman who can’t find her check card and continues to dig in her purse looking for it while you huff and puff to yourself? It’s frustrating and inevitably happens when we’re in a hurry.  Why is that?  Is it because we have poor timing or bad planning?  Perhaps we’re in a bad mood or it occurs on a day when the “to do” list is enormous and it just bothers us more.  Or maybe, just maybe it happens because it’s supposed to happen.

I am one who has always believed that everything happens for a reason.  I may never discover or understand the meaning behind what happens, but do believe that there is usually some purpose to the everyday events that occur and usually without our giving it much thought.

Not too long ago I was behind a lovely woman turtle driver, (we’ll call her Mrs. Turtle) and wanted to change lanes to go around her and be on my merry way. Just as I decided to turn my blinker on, a red pickup truck switched lanes locking me in place behind Mrs. Turtle. I sighed out loud in frustration.  Not two minutes later, me still behind Mrs. Turtle, was a police officer pointing his radar gun out his window right at us.  Needless to say, I was going the speed limit care of the pokey driver in front of me.   I laughed to myself and didn’t give it much thought.

Remember, I am one who believes everything happens for a reason, so as I look back upon that moment, maybe, just maybe, Mrs. Turtle was supposed to be in front of me so that I would slow down and not be tagged by the laser gun.  Mrs. Turtle was my saving grace, my “get out of jail” card without her even knowing it. 

She was there when I needed her yet she knew nothing of it and was probably in her own little world listening to NPR. Does this classify as a miracle?  Probably not, but it does make me feel assured that God is out there and he sees me and knows what I need better than I do. 

It makes me wonder whether or not I’ve ever been someone’s Mrs. Turtle.  Have I ever done something or said something that helped someone unbeknownst to me?  Has God ever used me in this way, to assist someone, to protect someone, to enlighten someone? (Ok, maybe I’m hoping on that last one, but I think at some point we have all wished we could help enlighten others to be the best they can be.)  Maybe I have, but may never know for sure.  Only time will tell.

964 FRT

It’s an ongoing game we play.  It confuses their friends when they’re in the car with us, but we still play it anyway.  Maybe you do too.  We don’t have a name for it, but perhaps should look into that.  Here’s how you play:  Get in the car.  Drive.  Observe. Spot a funny one and read it!  That’s all there is to it. Here’s one I saw this morning coming back from dropping the boys off at school; 035 KID.  I thought to myself, "Wow, that’s a lot of kids to have."  And, if there’s ever one that ends in GAS, or FRT watch out.  Giggles guaranteed from the backseat for sure. (And it doesn’t matter what the numbers are on those!) Not everyone has a humorous one, but if you try, you can usually come up with some phrase that works.  Mine is boring and ends with PJN.  Can’t really come up with anything clever for it.  Do you have a good one?  You could buy one if you choose, but for us, that takes the fun out of being creative and letting random thoughts pass through your mind.

It’s one of the times when it’s ok to interrupt the conversation, because it passes by so quickly and we always want to catch a view of it.  It’s not uncommon to be talking and then someone just shouts out, “Wow, that woman has read 856 books!”  We all try to get a peek before it’s gone and crane our necks just so for a clear shot of it.  It’s a way to pass time or make someone laugh.  You’ll have to try it next time you’re in the car.  It’s addicting.  You can start the next time you’re at a red light.   Read the license plate of the car in front of you and see if you can make something clever out of the letters and numbers. It doesn’t have to make sense or be funny, but it counts for more points if it brings a smile to the faces of the rest of the passengers in the car.  Good luck and if you come up with a name for the game, you’ll get bonus points.  So be ready for the next time I’m in the car with you, I just might shout out, “Hey, that man has 8 legs!”  (008 LGS)  It will make you look, that’s for sure.  Happy license plate reading.

Progress

For the last two weeks I’ve been writing and writing.  Ok, not writing and writing, but typing and typing.  Each day staring at a blank page and wondering if something will come to mind that is worthy of the keystrokes and time.  It’s been very interesting, difficult and enjoyable all at the same time.  For me, it’s been about discovering that inspiration is in the small things, the everyday things that seem to last only minutes.  These moments bring me the most satisfaction because these moments are my life.  All of us have thousands of moments that happen throughout the week, but don’t always take the time to see the humor, the joy or the lesson in them.  I’ve been diligently trying to be aware of these moments and seeing the truth in them, the frivolity in them, the importance in them and the life in them. The “them” is my life and what my eyes see and what my ears hear and there is so much to see and hear.  However, I’ve tried to be selective on what I write about. I haven’t written about my kids giving each other the “look” at breakfast or how much I detest putting the wet laundry into the dryer. (I really “hate” this part of doing the laundry.  I don’t know why, but I do.)  I also haven’t written about the fact that every morning I put 11.7 miles on the car taking the boys to school and once drove 52 miles in one day.  (How?  I do not know.) These are moments in my life, but do they have meaning in them?  Not so much.  They do show a snapshot of a moment in time, in my life, but haven’t made it onto my list of on-going ideas to draw from.  So, today I will continue to try and make progress on my goals and dreams.  I will write from my heart and share with you only those things I feel are worthy of the keystrokes and time, clicking on “File” >”Save As” and of being “backed up” on my external hard drive.  Here’s to progress!

Home

Come this July, we will have lived in this home for thirteen years. The longest I’ve ever lived in one home.  I love our home. There’s the one drawer by the fridge that always squeaks when you close it too hard, the stain on the carpet where I dropped the bleach bottle lid.  (Yep, the spot is now white and very visible.) There is the green sponge painted dinosaur behind our son’s bedroom door that we didn’t paint over when we upgraded his room theme to basketball.  There’s the one rail that is glued together because our son fell down the stairs and snapped it into two as well as snapped his collarbone doing so.   There’s our youngest son’s name hand-painted above his door that he won’t let us paint over, and a customized basketball free-thrown line and key painted on the basement floor.  The list goes on and on. 

But the time has come that we feel the need to move to a new house.  By doing so we hope to be closer to the boys’ schools and friends, have a little bit more space to spread out and perhaps have a flat driveway. (Our realtor told us it would be one of the reasons we’d want to sell this house one day. “Not a great driveway for children to play on.”  He knows his stuff!) 

We’ve embarked upon this quest several times in the last two years, with no success, but am hoping the third time’s the charm.  Looking for a new house can become obsessive very quickly.  Of course, the internet doesn’t help.  We don’t even have to brave the elements outside, but can walk from home to home in the comfort and warmth of our bed.  The only problem with this we’ve found is that home sellers don’t photograph what they don’t want you to see, like a 10-foot section of fence missing in the backyard or the water-stained ceiling in the kitchen.  They’re very clever as am I. (You won’t find a picture of the south side of our basement on-line. No siree.  Nor will you find a picture of our hallway with the bleach stain posted on-line.)  I could spend all day browsing the pictures and finding them on a map and have come close a few times to doing just that.

We’re truly hoping that we’ll be able to find a home that will fill our “needs” and perhaps a few of our “wants” as well. I know our new house is out there and have probably driven right by it on my way to the library or to the grocery store.    So if you’re listening new house, please wait for us.  Just sit tight and keep quiet until we get to you and find a new family that will appreciate the green dinosaur, the basketball court in the basement and the fact that a family actually lived in this home and created some of its imperfections.

I am Mom Of Sons

I watched the last few minutes of Dances with Wolves last night and caught it at the most moving part of the entire movie.   Wind In His Hair is atop the ridge on his horse and shouts down to Dances With Wolves and says, “I am Wind In His Hair. Do you see that I am your friend? Can you see that you will always be my friend?” This is a powerful moment in the movie given these two were mostly at odds with each other throughout the story. One person declaring his friendship to be real and true for the other, not holding back anything, but shouting at the top of his lungs to his friend. 

Why don’t we do this more? Declare our love for the entire world to see.  Shouting our love to our husbands and wives, our children and our friends might end the wars of this world. We wouldn’t be able to do anything but smile when the words were heard.  Knowing that you are loved and needed by someone makes everyone feel stronger and more worthy, thus making you stand taller and more apt to pass that feeling along to others.  We don’t do this however, because society has told us we need to be quiet and never “bother” anyone around us. There is something wrong with this picture. It happens occasionally at a college graduation or at a rock concert.  “We love you, Sarah!” “We love U2!”  Does this annoy you in any way, or does it make you smile?  Of course it makes you smile, and if you’re Sarah or U2, you love it and it brings great joy and a feeling of love to your spirit.

Why save the adoration for those once in a lifetime events?  Why not shout out, “I am the mother of the two greatest boys on earth” at the next baseball game or at the grocery store? It just might catch on for all you know.   A little shout out to your husband as he walks in the door, “You’re the best kisser in the world!” just might make his day.  It surely can’t hurt or possibly have a negative outcome.  (Well, maybe a little bit of embarrassment by your 13-year old son; but hey, he’ll get over it and be thankful later on that he has a mom who loves her family so.)

So, you better be prepared and on the lookout for me, because I just might be that mom at the next band concert that stands up and shouts, “I am Mom Of Sons.  Do you see that I love them?   Can you see that I will always love them?”   Don’t be surprised if you hear those words.  It just might happen, and when it does, I hope you smile.