Being Grateful

My elderly friend Jo lives alone with her dog, Sir Charles Lowe Throckmorton. She calls him Charlie for short, but we all know he's royalty.
Jo is almost completely blind, has constant dental and dietary problems, but you would never know it. She is the happiest, most grateful person you've ever met.
We used to live next door to Jo. One of my first memories of her is after we moved in we were talking to her and she stopped abruptly. "Let's get something straight," she said. Adam and I both froze. I was worried we had somehow offended her and she was about to put us in our places. She put us in our places, but not in the way we were expecting.
"My name is Jo," she said.
We had been calling her Mrs. Throckmorton. And thus was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Before work, I would go to her house and have a cup of coffee. I would walk our dog Wesley and her dog, Bucky, around the block and then sit down in her front yard for coffee and conversation.
I started purchasing her groceries with ours. Because she's blind, she obviously can't drive or see items on the shelves. She gets around her home because she's lived there since the 1950s and knows exactly where everything is.
Seven years later, I'm still buying Jo's groceries, she still makes me coffee when I come over, and she's still exactly the same wonderful lady she's always been.
Jo is the most grateful person you will ever meet. Whenever I bring her something I've baked, she eats it and exclaims, "Now I don't want anything better than that!" Or if I give her a gift, she replies, "This does my heart good." She is genuinely grateful for anything she receives, from a paper clip to a something big, like Adam trimming her trees. Her thanksgiving is always at the same level. I once teased Adam that she would thank me for a dirty diaper, and one day she did.
When Claire was a baby she once had a gigantic poopy diaper at Jo's house. I apologized for having to place it in her trash, and Jo said to me, "It does my heart good to have something of Claire here at the house."
I wish I was more grateful for the things I have, even poopy diapers.

Blowing Bubbles

One of Claire's favorite pastimes is blowing bubbles. We like to sit on the deck and she, Paul, and our dog, Wesley, chase them until they pop.
When I was pregnant with Paul, I was still working and had little play time with Claire. I also had the same laundry, cooking, and cleaning responsibilities I do today. To make sure I had time play and was still able to make dinner, I would sit outside with Claire and a kitchen timer. We would blow bubbles for ten minutes and then I'd go work for ten minutes and repeat.
Yesterday Claire pointed to my kitchen timer and reminded me of that time. She also reminded me of how fast time goes with little children. Just 12 months ago Paul was a tiny baby, Claire was still wearing diapers, and I was getting up at every hour of the night, getting my days and nights confused.
Right this minute, Claire is playing with a naked Ken doll and offering dance instructions to Paul, who is dancing while holding a blanket and a balloon. She still says "Hold you!" when she wants to be held, and Paul still snuggles, a little.
But like the bubbles that last for only a short time, I know this time will be gone as well. I'm trying to focus on every opportunity I can to enjoy my kids and play with them. In a world of e-mails, cell phones, errands, and church meetings, it's hard. I know there will be more bubbles of opportunity but as my kids get older, the bubbles will pop, so I need to catch them while I can.

Being a Badass

Recently, the kids and I were on TV as we protested the proposed closing of our favorite library. We went to the city council and we marched in a protest march. We were on so many channels that being on TV started being mundane.
I got word that the city council had withdrawn it's proposal to close the library, so even though it won't be official until they adopt the budget tomorrow, I know our library will stay open. It's an empowering feeling, and I've been using it.
Since the march I've become confrontational where I've felt it might do some good.
At the park by our house, I saw a group of four teenagers sharing something they were smoking that smelled suspicious. They also were all drinking out of the same Sprite bottle. We've had an increase of grafitti at the park and the school that shares the park's land was having a PTA event. I decided to fight back. I approached them with my stroller, three-year old, and tiny dog and asked them to leave. I told them I didn't know what they were doing, and I didn't want to know, but that was a park for kids and they needed to take their business elsewhere. Three of them left immediately, but one stood her ground. I called the police, but before they could get there, the lone girl ran off as well. Unfortunately my glasses aren't strong enough to let me read license plates 50 ft. in front of me, so they got away.
Adam said I did a good deed, and that we should stand up for our neighborhood. I was upset because I'm not used to confronting people, and all that mess ended up taking the time I was going to go swimming with the kids. So I got the punks out of the park, but my kids suffered. I'm still debating whether that was worth it.
The next day Adam's godparents were in town and I took his godmother, Kaa, to Costco. We were enjoying the Costco feast, where you can sample food on every aisle. The last sample before the checkout was some fountain of youth in a wine bottle, non-alcoholic juices to make you look younger. Kaa tried it and nearly spit it out. "This is awful!" she said. "I can't believe anyone would buy this!" The lady who was offering the samples scoffed and said under her breath, "You wouldn't buy it, because you don't understand what it is for." I thought that was rude, but continued on our way. Unfortunately, the employee was an older woman who needed to drink more of the juice she was sampling. She also needed some hearing aids. When another employee approached her to relieve her of her duties, she started complaining to him in a loud voice, "Stupid people, don't understand what this juice is about..." I know she was trying to speak quietly, but she wasn't successful. I whirled around and approached her. "She is not stupid," I said, referring to Kaa. "You work in customer service, and you should not be calling your potential customers stupid!" The old lady backed down and said she called Kaa silly. "No, I heard exactly what you said." She apologized, and I was about to call her manager and complain, but Kaa didn't want me to. She said she felt sorry for anyone who had to sell something that tasted so awful.
Then I started feeling guilty about chewing out an old lady. I think I'll go back to being good-ole-easy-going me.

Cleaning up, Cleaning Out

My house is a constant explosion of toys, books, and laundry. Dirty laundry is confined to laundry baskets, and dirty dishes usually are confined to the sink, so my house isn't as dirty as it is cluttered.
I'm always worried about it. I have a hard time "living in the now" when there's always a load of dishes or clothes to wash, toys to pick up, a meal to cook, errands to run, etc. I know my kids are growing up faster than I can keep up with them, but I have so much guilt about keeping up with dishes/laundry/cooking/shopping/correspondence/visiting old folks, I have a hard time focusing on any one thing.
Last week I decided to focus on cleaning, and maybe that would make me feel better.
Claire has about 1,000 books. Some people are always buying their kids toys, but I always buy mine books. We have baskets of books all over the house to encourage reading. Both kids love reading, but Claire had so many books that we couldn't read them all. I sat on her floor for several hours and went through each book and toy. We kept everything she wanted and immediately boxed everything she didn't.
The books we took to Half Price Books. Claire proudly sold them back and recieved $10 in exchange. I told her she could purchase two books with her money and put the rest in her bank. I was touched when she decided one of her books would be for Paul. So she got to purchase two books, had $2 left over, and put that in her bank. I got to condense her library into one bookcase. No more baskets of books to drive me nuts.
With her toys, we took them to Goodwill. I explained to her that some children don't have any toys and we'll give them to Goodwill and they will give them to the kids that need them. She was totally fine with this. We turned in two bags of toys and condensed all the rest into her toy boxes and kitchen. She was happy to give away some of her toys, and I felt like a load had been lifted off of me. It's been a week now and her room is still neat. She hasn't mourned the loss of any of her toys or books.
I realized that I was more attached to all her "stuff" than she was. Kids get over stuff pretty easily. I found that out again when she lost her favorite stuffed dog at Albertson's on Friday. I advised her not to bring it in the store in case she lost it, but left the decision up to her. The dog did get lost, either because of her or because Paul pitched it overboard; I'm not sure. But I was sad about it; almost crying when I realized it was gone. Claire didn't shed a tear or throw a fit. Instead, she requested that I print off a picture on the computer so she could play with a new dog. I found a picture of Clifford, printed it out, and she put it on a leash. She feeds that piece of paper and drags it around the house on a real dog leash.
It's amazing what my kids teach me on a daily basis. Let go of "stuff." Have fun with what you've got.