My Poor Cole

It's a rare occasion when our spirited Cole has a rough day. But when that nasty wind blows through town, what do you expect?

Tonight, Cole had an upchucking event at batting practice before his ball game. The poor kid, we think, was trying to tough it out since we found evidence of a similar occurrence in the bathroom sink. And now this weather thing with the wall clouds and the CWS fans running to the Qwest Center has him all upset. He'd prefer vomiting SIX times to letting the storm gods determine our fate. Way to take one for the team, Kid.

Cole- completely relaxed after dinner

Like every other un-sadistic Mom on the planet, I hate it when my children are sick - or worried. But at least I can be there to put the wash cloth on their forehead. I do serve a purpose beyond washing socks. Seriously though, they provide me much happiness...especially in the form of comic relief.  Today was not a particularly fun Monday. But one memory of the weekend kept me giggling to myself. After finishing a nice family dinner at the Victoria Station, we all resumed our positions in the vehicle for the way home when Cole astutely announced,

"I just had the best fart of my life!"

Alex added "I bet - it was at least ten seconds long."

If that doesn't make you happy, well, what do you laugh about?

Everyday Miracles

Have you heard of that book Heaven is for Real? About the little boy who makes amazing remarks about his visit to see Jesus while on the operating table? Or have you read Chicken Soup for the Soul's Book of Miracles? 101 spine-tingling stories about people in desperate situations, suddenly saved by a divine twist of fate? I read both of those books, back-to-back. It was sort of like drinking a Jamba Juice super-spiritual smoothie fortified with a faith booster. Hallelujah!

I was having a conversation with another full-time, working mother the other day about the challenge of living mindfully.  Being fully engaged can be more difficult than bribing your grubby 9-year boy to take a shower. Or convincing your teenage daughter that you really are the coolest mom ever. Have you ever driven all the way to work and not remember one one detail about the drive? You could've ran over seven squirrels and not noticed...But who could blame you? You're trying to remember if the baseball game starts at 5:30 or 6:00 tonight and would it be possible to get the kids in for a hair trim tomorrow. No, that won't work. Kids have piano lessons. And Father's Day is this weekend...and my Lord, have my roots really grown out that much already?

So, as I was thinking about those books I read, along with the bowl of cherries I've gotten to swim through my entire life while taking the less mindful path, something occurred to me. Maybe I have had near-death experiences! Maybe a truck has almost crushed me! Maybe a viper has nearly engorged its pointy fangs near my jugular before a white crystalline light swooped from heaven and threw the reptile across the woods before I could understand my dangerous predicament. I just happen to lack Jedi awareness, so I couldn't write about it and send my story to the Chicken Soup people.

Me and My Miracles

I think the moral of this tedious blog is that perhaps we all need to be aware of the everyday miracles that occur all the time.  Not the type you read about in books. Like the cardinal that perches on the tree. Or, the wildflowers that appear on your terrace every spring. Or, the hug from your son on a perfectly sour day. Or, your daughter's willingness to accompany you to a movie without her friends. Or,  your husband's compliment about your beauty right after you washed your makeup off. (Sure, maybe he needs his eyes checked, but don't let him do it.) Or, the dog's kiss to the cat who barely tolerates the canine.  Or, the lunch I get to have with my healthy parents almost every day...still at the age of 41.

Miracles are everywhere. How many do you see right now? I bet you can find some if you look around.

Weekend Journal-Boring or Perfect?

Friday night:  Pizza Hut! And a visit to the grocery store - my favorite. (NOT) Actually, I felt a bit smug strolling through the deserted aisles with my family, thinking about the fact that no complaints about my healthy choices would be hurled at me when we got home. ("Why didn't you get anything to eat??") HOWEVER, the trip was much pricier than usual as I found the cart laced with items like beer, ho-hos, frosted animal crackers, hot cocoa, etc. (UPDATE - most of these food-like substances were gone by end of weekend...except the beer. At least my grapes and apples last longer. Sometimes for weeks.)

Saturday: After sleeping in to that glorious hour of 8 AM, we weaseled ourselves into the vast storage tunnel of Christmas decorations! (Oh yes, it's always a grand day for us - a time when I weather Doug's cuss words with a smile as we try and remember how the damn lights are hung.)  Eventually, the deed got done.  We even allowed ourselves a trip to WalMart and splurged with one of those-there lawn ornaments. Pretty classy, heh?

 I was kind of thinking Christmas card? But wasn't sure if I wanted to go with the White Trash theme.

I won't continue with more boring details of the weekend, but let's just say it ended with food, books and movies. But if I had to nail down one aspect of the weekend that truly made it great, it had to be the quality and the frequency of the laughter. The Kramer recipe: each family member needs a few unique passions and peculiarities. (E.g., Jedi fetishes.) Tolerance and a penchant for giggling helps as well.  Oh - and don't forget  two or three bizarre pets, preferably saved from the depths of the gallows. They're always entertaining - because they really have a story to share.

...some Fun that is Funny...

After feeling sorry for myself this weekend for a rather stupid reason (not winning a short story contest), my poor little son ends up with Influenza B. There's nothing like a sick child to make you realize what's really important. Anyway, the 48-pounder seems to be rebounding as he is currently working on one of his "projects" right now.

Anyway, God continued to confirm the pettiness of my self-pity, by a few other events. Today our Bank celebrated President's Day with an all-staff meeting. One of our presentations came from Alegent's EAP program and was entitled, "Using Humor in the Workplace." Truth be told, our staff probably needed that presentation as much as a child needs candy. Cleverly, our presenter had sprinkled some humor through the slideshow, but for some reason kept fast-forwarding through the jokes -- the parts we were all waiting for. We didn't care about the facts(laughing has health benefits, humor reduces stress, yada yada yada.) Get to the good stuff! Give us George Costanza's advice on looking busy at work!

But seriously, our presenter quizzed us on our own humor development. What type of household were you brought up in? What kind of humor was used? What comedies did you watch? Red Skelton? Johnny Carson? Did your Dad play practical jokes!

Not my family.

Oh, sure. We dabbled in the usual bathroom humor that all families enjoy. "Did you hear that fart?" "No, but I smell it!") But we also dabbled in something I would describe as offbeat, on the cusp of morbid, fairly dry and not without sarcasm.

My Dad was near-genius on the art of the game. For those of you who read Goodbye Def Leppard, do you remember the scene when Amy's Dad challenges her to a quick match of the Dead Game? When she must guess the ages of those who died in the paper? Well, that ain't no fiction. It was a common game played (at least twice a week)in the Ronfeldt household.

My Dad also liked to mimic Name That Tune. We played it with a few of my beginner piano songs. After picking a song (without my Dad's help...ahem), Mom and Dad challenged each other with those delicious words, "Sandy, I can name that tune in....notes" Amazingly, my Dad could guess 'Mister Frog is Full of Hops' in one single note.

Mom has always said that humor not only kept their marriage alive -- it saved it. I never really understood what she meant. But now that I've been married for almost 15 years, it's one of those quotes that recurs in my mind frequently. I'd argue that it doesn't only save marriages, but entire families as well. See here? Alex and Cole get it. Of course, kids always do.