A better idea?

OUTWARDLY, I can be quite tolerant with service acquaintances and their mistakes, because I do not enjoy being hateful to others or hurting feelings when it can be avoided. We all have mishaps. Now, I may not smile about it, but I am still polite which I hate because I certainly do NOT want to be.
So do I maintain this control when the same mistakes are made by the same person over and over?  Do I just let them continue to cause disruption because of pure incompetence?!

A better idea...
Instead of keeping my anger wrangled, I would prefer to punt said person out of their sixth floor office window, all while screaming at them their repeated failures, just so they know WHY they are sailing out of said sixth floor office window.  I'm informative like that.

Okay, fine, maybe they can land in a nice, thick bush, because I don't want to kill anyone...I just want them to get. the.picture. and shape up. 

Early Morning Musings

Wow ~ nearly a year since last posting on this poor neglected blog. Not that there isn't enough to yammer on about, because Lord knows I have plenty to say, but the sitting down and the striking of the keys and the putting of words together in order to create complete thoughts just seem to end up at the bottom of every 'to do' list that exists in my life.  Occasional spontaneous blurbs haven't even managed to find a place here...it's almost embarrassing for a woman who leans so hard on written words in order to thrive.

This morning, I find myself sitting at the kitchen table with a few minutes to steal.  I am savoring my second cup of coffee while contemplating exactly what mood my day will provoke.  You see, during the week, I wake to the early morning news - not always the best way to start one's day, unfortunately.  The range of wretched current events makes it difficult to even get out of bed, but then attempting to face the day with a good attitude? Uh, no.  Has the basic task of simply living become a futile effort? Some days, it certainly feels like it.

However, as I sit in solitude before the kids rise, I have the privilege of looking out on the desert. Dry and seemingly barren as it may be, it still lives, breathes and even thrives in some of the harshest conditions. It is beautiful in a plain and unassuming way; not necessarily promising anything grand, but assuringly constant in many regards. I have grown to crave this reassurement that only the parched grasses and maniacal cacti can bring; the daily resolve that even when the world's circumstances are trying to suck the life out of me, they have no viable chance of succeeding.  If anything, my skin gets a little thicker and my defenses a might sharper, but above all, my faith in a myriad of forces roots that much deeper.

So, I may not be able to predict where my mood will swing from this tick forward.  However, today's  renewed realization of how initially unattractive things in our lives can often teach us the most valuable lessons has set me off in a positive direction, and that's a good thing.

I'll Have What She's Having...

As I was hyperventilating through the last 2 minutes of my half hour elliptical workout this morning, I found myself reflecting on a conversation I recently had with a friend of mine.  I was telling her how good she looked, and asked her if she had lost weight. She informed me that she wasn't aware of any weight loss, for she did not own a scale and as long as she was comfortable in her jeans, then she was happy.  I was aghast.

Happy without knowing how much you weigh? Is that even possible?

To make matters worse, she continued on to say that she was so comfortable in her own skin, that she just didn't fret about her weight.  All I want to know is...

Where in God's creation can I get some of THAT?

Did I say too much?

Since I will never change into a meek woman, maybe I should invest in some duct tape.


Because I'm the Mom, that's why.

Eight years ago when we made the decision to adopt a little girl from China, we attended all the classes, read the suggested books, and spoke with the experienced adoptive parents about what to expect. One topic I paid special attention to: comments from others. "Why didn't you adopt from America?"..."Does she speak English?"..."Do you know her real parents?"..."Oh look, you had a natural baby after you adopted."..."Oh what a lucky girl that you adopted her!"...and the list goes on.
I have encountered these type questions here and there, and I handled the person's ignorance or maybe just plain stupidity, and then raged in my head alone afterwards. Now, however, Lady O is right there with me and at seven years old, understands the questions which angers me more. She is no longer shielded from the ignorance, unfortunately.
At this stage of the game I consider America quite diverse and growing evermore in it's vicissitude. Because of this I am still somewhat caught off guard by comments from peers about our family makeup. Today's question came from her classmate whilst we were dining in the school cafeteria...
Boy: "Who is that??"
Lady O: "My Mom."
Boy: "You said you were adopted, right?"
Lady O: "Yes."
Boy: "What's your REEAL Mom's name?"
Lady O: "I don't know."
Me: "I"M her REAL Mom."
Boy: "But she said she's adopted."
Me smiling: "She sure is, and I. am. her. REAL. Mom."
Boy: Blank stare

I then privately explained to Lady O why *I* am her real Mom, but like we talked about before, she has a 'birth-mom' in China.
He is a child, and so I am forced to stay calm and answer his questions with the hopes of educating him, because I understand children are curious and still learning about the world. And well, it is sort of frowned upon for an adult to throw-down with a second grader. (Damnit.) What I'd like to know is 'where is his Mother?!'
Anyway, maybe it is I who am in the wrong..maybe I am in an adoption bubble and expect too much from the general public. I always try to be considerate of others and their various situations, and teach my children to do the same, but I expect the same in return.


Expect The Unexpected

Some of the most productive and therapeutic relationships are forged simply through the use of words and images.  It makes one apprehensive about the impact of a physical manifestation of any sort for fear of compromising the rigid bond that has formed over a period of years. In the end, we are taught that letting things happen naturally and in their own time is often the wisest choice, as forcing time and space may only lead to heartache or dashed expectations. Here's to serendipity; separated but not disunited.