They sure do stink.
They quietly drift into the air;
Floating,
In my direction,
While Lucky continues to sleep.
Archives for November 2007
The waiting game
On the outside, I was calm. On the inside, however, I was haunted by the slight possiblity that my breast lump was not the benign sebacous cyst after all. A few months ago it was as small as the head of an eraser, but it has since more than tripled in size and gotten infected as well.
I lay on the guerny listening to the mix of conversations from the holding area. The guy in the next area moans every now and again. The lady across the way trys to track down her son to communicate one last bit of information.
I hold my right arm straight out, careful not to bend it in fear that I’ll need a new one placed if it goes bad before my procedure. It hurts already, or still; I can’t figure out which it is. I examine it and check the IV flow. It appears to be okay.
The hospital is a cold place. I don’t know how I could have forgotten that after working in one for over 12 years. I have two blankets over my but I am ice cold. I curl my body up and try to stay warm as I wait.
Subtle signs of love
Today’s post was spurred on by the act of writing a comment on one of Miss Zoot‘s blog posts. As a Mother of a teenager and a near tween, I know the feeling that crops up again and again. It’s the feeling of being unappreciated for all that you do.
I often feel that no matter how much I do, it is never enough. There always seems to be disappointment when I finally say, “uh, no, I can’t do that today.” The requester’s world falls apart and the displays of frustration were as if I never did a thing for them. It’s just not the case. I know it, and the boys know it too.
On the flip side, I have been guilty of taking for granted the acts of kindness and thoughtfulness that my kids give me. These moments often go un-thanked, but when the tempers rise, I always notice. How hypocritical is that?
Don’t let the sweet moments go unnoticed. Slow down just enough to enjoy the subtle way that your children say I love you or thanks.
Give this a thought:
Think about when you cook a great meal and your family gobbles it all up and asks for more. Could that be their way of saying thank you? Remember when they were babies, hypnotizing you with their content stare as they gulped away at the milk that only you could provide. There was no doubt that they were saying thank you then. And what about when you come home from a business trip and they are waiting up for you, even though it is late at night and they are exhausted. They most definitely are saying I love you.
Sure, it is nice to hear the words, “I love you” and “thank you”, but it often doesn’t come without prodding. If you have to ask for it, the meaning gets diluted. Everyone needs love and wants to feel that what they do is appreciated. Perhaps we need to look at things in a new way now and then.
Just step back and look at a situation from a different vantage point. You just might see things a little differently…
Back to Sunday
Glancing up from my book, little YaYa caught my eye. He’s not as little as he once was, but in his flag football league he is the youngest and thus the smallest.
YaYa was on the sidelines with his back to the play. It appeared that he had scooped up a handful of mud. He was immersed in his own world, oblivious to the game, as he slathering the goop across every inch of his hands. I wondered what he was thinking. Would it help him to hold onto the ball, or guarantee that he didn’t? It didn’t appear to matter. He looked happy.
A few minutes later, he was out on the field. I paid close attention so that I could determine which answer was correct. YaYa hunched over the ball, gripped it in his muddy hands and readied for the snap.
Race Ready
Sunday, after logging my run, I felt a smattering of excitement run through my awareness. My planned workout was a little short, but I was satisfied with how I’d done.
The workout was originally scheduled to occur Thursday (after a day of rest) rather than on Sunday (after a long run). Sometimes, life requires a little juggling of workouts.
My warm up was 1.75 miles. Afterwards, I launched into the first of two 3 mile repeats. Garminia displayed my pace right on target however, the time for a complete mile on the track came out a bit slower than Coach Jeff had asked for. It was close enough for me.
I rested for 5 minutes prior to starting the next interval. The effects of yesterday’s long run came into play. I could feel the fatigue building with each lap around the track. I ran 1.25 miles on the track and decided that I’d run the long way home to finish off the repeat.
That was my initial thought but, as I headed in the opposite direction of home, my body began protesting louder. I stopped and thought hard.