Glimpses

Dawn made me do it.

"Hm."

Mike cut his eyes in my direction as I took out my newly purchased black sunglasses from Charlotte Russe and slid them into place as we backed out of our driveway.

"What?" I feigned innocence, even though I know this man well enough to know just exactly where his thoughts were headed. The new sunglasses were not, um..a hit.

"All I can say is that you better not be wearing those and start making any sudden buzzing sounds. I may have to swat you with a damp dishtowel!"

Now to truly understand and even appreciate this feeble attempt at making fun of my oversized sunglasses, you'd have to live in North Texas and be experiencing the "summer of the flies", as it's come to be called around our house. They are everywhere this year and seem to have a much longer life expectancy than those of my childhood. Mike gave up on traditional fly swatters and has been having much better luck with swinging his damp dishtowel. More than one poor fly has been caught unaware, and now I, myself, had just been put on notice.

So I did the only thing a girl can do in such a situation. I placed the blame elsewhere. "Well! Dawn made me buy them!"

But I have to admit, I was laughing by this time and even had to agree. I did look a bit like a fly. I had stood, just hours before, in the store with Dawn as we tried on pair after pair after pair of these sunglasses.

"I don't know." I was dubious, at best. "I just don't think I can bring myself to wear these - they're HUGE!"

"That's the style! Everybody's wearing them." Never mind the fact that Dawn looks like a rock star in hers while I resemble...well, a FLY!

"I know, I know. But look - they take up half my face!"

"Just think of it as me giving you a hug every time you wear them."

Since Dawn is one of my best friends and since we live hundreds of miles apart and since these shopping days are few and far between...

I bought TWO pair - one in black and one in brown. A girl's gotta match, you know...

I Am From

I am from wooden clothespins, from large boxes of powdered Tide and freshly laundered clothes hung out on the line in the backyard to dry.

I am from the cozy 3-bedroom, 2-bath home on Bayshore Dr., where pink & red shag carpet lined my bedroom wall-to-wall. I am from the Mimosa trees in the front yard, the tree house in the back, and from the red rose bushes with the awful thorns that grew each Spring on the side of the house.

I am from neighborhood get-togethers, from summertime homemade ice cream, and from Vienna Sausages and pork 'n beans eaten at roadside parks while on vacations. I am from Rudy and Nancy, from Glen and Leona, and from Dewie and Marie.

I am from days of playing Nancy Drew, singing along to vinyl-coated 45s, and crushing on Parker Stevenson and Shaun Cassidy. 

I'm from Barbies and a baby doll named Rosie, but I'm also from the land of Legos, army men, Evel Knievel - and anything else my younger brother happened to be doing.

I am from readers and learners, from hard workers, from tin lunch boxes and a leaky Thermos. I am from stubborness and bull-headedness, from loud talking, from genorosity and from laughter.

I am from the small pink-bricked United Pentecostal Church in the heart of town. The one that many perceived to be on the wrong side of the tracks, but the very one where Easter picnics, spaghetti suppers, and hour-long messages from a dear silver-headed preacher make up some of my most prized childhood memories.

I'm from Texas, through and through, from gulfshore streams to the Piney woods, and right here to the bustling metroplex. I'm from history buffs, story tellers, and lovers of all things Christmas-y.

I am from "perserverence and persistence" and from "love God and love others." I'm from recycled plastic ware and grocery sacks, long before "going green" was the going thing.

I am from school carnivals and sleep-overs, from family holidays with turkey and cornbread dressing and Pepto-Bismol and cousins camped out on pallets in the den.  I'm from memories tucked away in cedar chests, from weightless wonders of hand-sewn quilts. I am from hope and happiness. 

My friend went to Morrocco and all she brought back for me

was...this!

Yeah, baby!

Okay, she really brought back way more than this fabulous DC for me, but - as you can imagine - I'm tickled pink by this! Thanks, Rochelle! I love ya! Click here to read all about Ro's amazing trip.

The Five-finger Prayer

A close friend sent this to me a few weeks ago. I stuck it in a "to be saved" file and came across it again today. I think it is most blog-worthy...Enjoy!

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1. Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for those closest to you. They are the easiest to remember. To pray for our loved ones is, as C. S. Lewis once said, a "sweet duty."

2. The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those who teach, instruct and heal. This includes teachers, doctors, and ministers. They need support and wisdom in pointing others in the right direction. Keep them in your prayers.

3. The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our leaders. Pray for the president, leaders in business and industry, and administrators. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion. They need God's guidance.

4. The fourth finger is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the fact that this is our weakest finger, as any piano teacher will testify. It! should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. They need your prayers day and night. You cannot pray too much for them.

5. And lastly comes our little finger - the smallest finger of all which is where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. As the Bible says, "The least shall be the greatest among you." Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively. !

Incentives. Do they work?

"You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to
enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand."

Woodrow Wilson
28th President of the United States

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"I've got mail. Again."

I held up the oversized envelope bearing the Donaldson logo, addressed to me, and grinned.

Mike shook his head. "They sure know what they're doing, don't they?"

I reached inside the envelope and pulled out a beautiful glossy 14 month calendar. Emblazoned across the cover was a breathtaking picture of Cruz Bay in the Virgin Islands. Inside were 13 more photos, along with island recipes, trivia, and information.

In January of this year we began to receive a package in the mail every month or so from Mike's company. Labeled "Incentive Package," these oversized envelopes contained all kinds of good things and it became rather exciting to spot yet another one in the mailbox and then rip excitedly into it as soon as we were inside the house.

Inside the packages  were numberous momentos  - calendars, paper weights, postcards, and letters - all bearing images of the Virgin Islands, along with the constant reminder: "Meet me in reef!"

The reminder was of Donaldson's sales contest. For each territory manager that met a certain sales goal PLUS for the 2007 fiscal year would receive an all-expense, six-day five-night paid trip for TWO to the beautiful island of St. Thomas. These photos and island recipes that kept finding their way to our mailbox were certainly appealing. It was rather easy to see why the packages were clearly labeled "incentive."

But the amazing thing is that each of these packages is addressed to me, Mike's spouse, and all the goodies inside? Yep, that's right. They're meant for me. Marketed to appeal to a woman's love of all things island-like, I - along with the other wives - continued to receive incentives in the mail.

Incentives that would, no doubt, help us to spark a fire beneath our spouses in an effort to make this year wildly successful and profitable. Certainly profitable enough to earn us a trip to St. Thomas.

That is - if incentives worked like that in our home. I've thought a lot about this these past few months and I'm just not sure that they do.

The boys have received an allowance since they were preteens and began to need money in order to have the occasional hang-out time with their friends. It was generally a set amount and fairly regular, but not really associated with chores or responsibilities.

That's because, around here, chores and responsibilities are expected and required simply because, hey, you're a member of this household and we all pitch in to help get things done. Cleaning your room and swabbing out your toilet every once in a while do not a big fat wallet guarantee.

Some weeks the chore load may seem mighty light and, yet others, it may seem downright unfair. But the payoff is that things keep humming around here as they should, not that the end result is more green in the hands of our kids. So if money is not the incentive to do what is expected around here, then what IS?

The wrath of Mom? The possibility of having your week's worth of dirty laundry tossed out? The fear of having your weekend plans put on permanent pause if the yard is not tended by the time you're set to go out?

I'd like to say that the incentive is that it just feels good to do a good job at something that has been assigned to you. You remember, don't you, nothing feels better than a job well done. But more than likely it's one of the above, and I'll take that. Sometimes it takes a while to layer in all the ingredients necessary to create an awesome character. As a mom, I'm acting on faith that all of the chores performed in the past ten years will someday, somehow, play a role in molding responsible, conscientious men out of my boys.

What Donaldson may or may not know yet about Mike is that they didn't have to hang a nice, attractive carrot in front of him to get him to perform. He - truly - IS the same yesterday, today, and forever. Not quite like Jesus, but you get what I mean...He is going to put in just as much time, sweat, and energy with the client who will spend a hundred bucks as he will with the company likely to place a triple digit order. He's just that way. Born and bred to work hard, work diligently, and work faithfully. He'll be happy to win the trip, I'm sure, but he'll be just fine if he doesn't.

And me? Well, I'm sticking to my belief that the best possible reward for a job well done is the good 'ol feeling you get down deep inside, knowing that you've given a job your all. But I think I will finish this post and log a few miles on the treadmill. You know, just in case I find myself vacationing someplace exotic like - I don't know, the VIRGIN ISLANDS - come this November.

Hmm...maybe those Donaldson folks DO know what they're doing, after all! What about you? What - or WHO - motivates YOU?

Metroplex Rain Alters Shoe Fashions

 

Eleven Simple Rules for Teens

Sometimes I'm amazed by how much I enjoy being a parent of teen-agers. I don't think I expected to find this much pleasure, during these years. But I do.

At 19 and 18, it delights me -- sometimes it just really surprises me -- to realize that they are distinct individuals who no longer mimic my opinions, views, or thoughts. My goodness -- they have minds of their own, and aren't afraid to use them!

Granted, that's not always a good thing! Seems that a quick retort, smart mouth, and an intense desire to have the last word were bonuses that came unneatly packaged with the free-thinking, individualistic teen I originally bargained for.

But somewhere in the last few years-- long after I finally realized that I had to look up to talk to them while standing and, when hugging them good-bye each morning, my cheek now rests against their chests -- it's occured to me that these two delightfully unique guys are turning into men right in front of my eyes. And not just men - but men that I'm proud to say belong to me. Men that, as long as they continue to keep God first in their lives, will take responsibility, not only for their own lives, but for the world around them.

Of course, the next several years are crucial ones. I'm not naive enough to believe that the hard stuff is behind us, or that this free-thinking individual that so enamours me right now might not use that same individuality to drive me nuts with worry or fear in the future. There's still some shaping to be done by us, their parents, and there's still plenty of emotions, goals, and directives that will ride that proverbial roller coaster of uncertainty, indecisiveness, and insecurities.

But I'm enjoying the ride. And -- while I don't want to rush the "now", I have to admit I look forward to seeing the end result.

I came across this a while back. I don't know the original author, but I like the way he/she thinks:

Eleven Simple Rules for Teens

1. Life is not fair - get used to it.

2. The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

3. You will NOT make $40,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be vice-president with a car phone, until you earn both.

4. If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss. He doesn't have tenure.

5. Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping - they called it opportunity.

6. If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

7. Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way by paying your bills and cleaning your clothes. So before you save the rain forests of the world from the parasites of your parents' generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

8. Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life has not. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you multiple chances to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

9. Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.

10. Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs. (Seriously.)

11. Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll either end up working for one -- or falling in love with one!

Rochelle, this one's for you!

Nathan & ChaCha

Happy Fourth of July