Happy Birthday Mom!

Yesterday Alex and I took my mother shopping. The sun was shining and we had no one asking us, "Are we done yet?" It was quite fun, and of course we laughed a lot.

I really believe that many of us eventually reach a point when we realize, "Yes, I really am my mother." Sure, there have been signs for years. By the age of two, Alex was often correcting people by saying, "Well, actually..." Where'd she come up with that? It was amusing. Then there was the occasional, "What do you think? I'm stupid?" remark from my hubby when I pedantically educated him on something he already knew.

Well, let me relate a little story that took place yesterday that puts it in perspective. But first a little background.

My mother is very intelligent and extremely well-read. Despite my degree in literature and MBA, she often outwits me with her vast knowledge. And I'm very, very careful not to bring up anything in history which will put that certain expression on her face that says, "My God. How can you not know that?"

So, back to my story...

As we traversed to Omaha, I was providing mother details of Alex's field trip to the Religious Museum of Art in Logan, Iowa. (BTW, it is quite a treat if you have never visited.) She asked if the museum only contained Christian artifacts. I responded,

"Mostly. But a few other religions were represented - there were some interesting Jewish artifacts."

So, my mother, the educator, explained, "Well, you know that Christianity and Judaism are based from the same source."

Okay. Maybe I'm not familiar with all the details of Watergate or the Russian invasion of Afghanistan in the 1970's. But common mother...I didn't fail Sunday School 101. However, instead of defending my knowledge, I decided to play along....

"Really? I didn't realize that."

From my peripheral vision, I see my mother's head turn toward me. She grows quiet. I know she is starting to wonder "how clueless can my daughter really be?"

Then she laughs. She knew that I had gotten her this time. That's one of the things I love most about her. Her ability to laugh at herself...I'm pretty good at that too. Hopefully, that trait gets passed on to my kids.

Mom Sutras and Love

I just finished reading Deepak Chopra's PATH TO LOVE: SPIRITUAL STRATEGIES FOR HEALING. It was a pretty amazing book, to say the least. In one section, Deepak shares many of his personal sutras (or inspirations) such as:

"The mind judges what is good or bad. Love brings only good."

Or, one of my favorites...

"Dreams come true when they are held quietly in the heart."

Deepak encourages everyone to keep a notebook and write any sutra that comes to you in any given moment. So, since last night, I've been waiting for moments of inspiration to appear so I can share my sutras with the world. So far...

"There is truly a difference in having my hair professionally-colored, as opposed to using Sun-In."
"I need to wash my living room pillow cases more often. They look pretty without food stains."
"I'm not sure if I'm ever going to lose those five pounds."
"Headaches make me sad."
"Sunshine makes me happy."

Pretty deep stuff. Just for fun, I decided to ask my kids to tell me a few of their own sutras.

Alex: "The other night, I had a sutra! It was a song that I'm working on..." Unfortunately that's all she could tell me. It was too personal to share since it was about a crush.

Cole: "What? I don't have a song!" So, I explain in more detail the definition of sutras. He stopped me in mid-sentence. "Never had one. Never will." Of course, he was in the middle of a heated DS battle.

So maybe they're a little young. Maybe I'm a little young. Ooh! Gotta go. Outrageous Pumpkins showing on the Food Network. Maybe some sutras will come to me.

131 days - Project Hawaii

I lost my walking partner yesterday.

As Cole and I enjoyed the waning warmth of the season yesterday evening, having our normal one-sided conversation of video jabber, Cole broke mid-sentence to scream that detestable word. "SNAKE!"

Like every other mother, I'd give me life to protect my kids. But when a loathsome creature, such as a teeny-tiny snake appears before me, my maternal instinct flees. My protectiveness comes down to one piece of advice..."RUN!"

Cole tried to crawl up my back, but I quickly shoo'd him down and said. "Bud - you're too big. You're just gonna have to hoof it!"

Luckily, we made it. The snake didn't hunt us down and we ran into the house without any venom dripping into our veins. Cole declared his walking days over. For now at least.

So, tonight I'm feeling a little blue about my expanding waistline, and I'm thinking, maybe I can work on Alex to be my exercise partner.

"Hey, Al? What do ya say we start jogging to get in shape for Hawaii? It's 131 days."

Amazingly she's immediately smitten by the idea. We measure our waists, which happen to be exactly the same right now at 34 inches....with a goal to reduce by February. (I have a feeling my tween will have much more success.)

And we do it. Of course, it takes us longer to get ready than the actual jog. I'm thinking we might be more motivated if we turn this venture into some sort of a fashion statement with cute scarves and caps. Alex is right on board. For now.

130 days to go...I'll keep you posted. Here's my new jogging buddy. (Look at us - just eating salads!)

On Hamsters, Part Two

So, Alex goes to let Flash out for the evening. She looks up at me, "Uh, the hamster door has been open. We must not have closed it last night."

Guess where Flash was?

Sitting nicely in his cage.

Before you think, "How pathetic. Blogging about hamsters on a Saturday night. Didn't she blog about the hamster last night as well?", let me explain. I've been sick all day. No voice. Splitting headache. Hardly any energy to get this cough out. At least I enjoyed a view of the beautiful sky from my couch. Speaking of laying on the couch...

I promise that my next few postings won't involve Flash. Unless, of course, he does something more amazing than my father, whom is due some limelight soon.

On Hamsters

I’ve blogged on Cousins and Friends this week. So to wrap up the series, I’ve decided to post a few thoughts on hamsters.

The Kramer family evening routine typically involves letting Flash out of his cage while we unwind for the evening. (Hamsters are nocturnal, so as we unwind, he is gearing up for an eventful night life.) As most of you know, hamsters typically travel by roller balls, or they get eaten by cracks, refrigerator undergrounds, open doorways and heating vents. Last night, as Flash sped off to explore the house, we were enthralled in an engaging little flick called “Ghost Town.” The little tinkling sounds of spit-up gerbil food and hamster poopie are pretty much white noise to us as we hear it every night. Anyway, as the show neared the end, a neon static orb on the floor caught my attention. The roller ball. Door busted open. I glanced at Flash’s digs to see if somehow I missed his return home. But no! The cage door was wide open. Flash was gone.

“Uh, anyone holding Flash?” I inquire, knowing full-well that the kids have been ignoring my subtle suggestions to tickle Flash and find his laugh.

Kids fly up. Lights go on. A frantic search begins. As we whirlwind to begin checking the usual places like the laundry baskets, toilets, under beds, we are pleasantly surprised to find Flash sitting under our end table. Apparently, he was enthralled by the movie as well. So, without the usual fuss, Flash was safely placed back into his cage and given a bit of banana for his good behavior.

So. We love our senile dog. We like to watch our flighty cats hiss at each other. But what would we do without the little rat who sleeps most of his life in a little cage in our living room? It’s now been over a year and he’s still kicking. He might be the ugliest hamster we ever owned. But he is certainly the most loyal. Or lazy. Either way, he fits right in.

Next week....on grandpa's.

On Cousins

As an only child, my cousins gave me the only semblance of any sort of sibling relationship. I was particularly close to Timbra, who was only a few months my younger.

Timbra was athletic, free-spirited and brave. Contrast this to a timid, clumsy rule-follower. She'd convince me to leave my Barbies to play outside. Usually, the coaxing had something to do with chasing me with a snake. But at least she forced me to get a little fresh air. If I convinced her to stay inside to play house, she'd change up the story line by adding a rabid dog or wild mustang. Undoubtedly, we had our differences. And there lies the beauty.

I could voice my opinion to her and she, of course, could beat me up. (She didn't usually do this. I only remember one sucker-punch in the gut during a father-arranged boxing match.) But we could be ourselves, knowing full-well we wouldn't damage our friendship. Because we were cousins. No matter how she riled me, I'd always love her.

Now, I can see the power of cousins with our own children.

Alex can share secrets, talk boys (I think she does this, but Al is not divulging) and go shopping with her dear cousin Mikayla.
Cole can talk video games and learn to boy-fight with this three older cousins, Dillon, Denny and Mitch. Yesterday he had the chance to hang out with them. Apparently, Dillon (a senior in high school) taught Cole a few tips in football. When Cole had fallen at one time, with a fairly extensive injury according to Cole, Dillon helped him to deal. "Get up. You got to be tough in football." (My hubby would've told him the same thing, but the lesson would've been futile with his mother rushing to the side of her son.)

Cousins are great. They provide a safe outlet from your everyday friends and a highly-desired retreat your immediate family.

Here's one of my first cousin Trent, teaching Alex a few riffs on the guitar.