Okay, I'm gonna make this quick.
Real quick.....sorta.
...and it's not gonna be pretty (meaning grammatically correct).
I just gotta say that I love me some Internet! I know it is a major time sucker, but I just spent a lovely afternoon instant messaging (on Facebook) my childhood friend, while both our toddlers were doing whatever around us...and it was fabulous!
And I love that I can follow the sister of one of my other friends, who has HER own blog, and whom I think is an amazing chic, but we've never spent any actual time together (although I somehow remember being at her wedding, I think).
We live in a totally convoluted world, right? but along with all the detritus that is thrown around on the Internet, there are good things! Social networking works for me...haha. I love being able to send a quick note to anyone, and usually get an answer right away. I love clicking on people's links. I love "sharing" coupon codes on Facebook, I'll admit it. I've followed recipes, too.
Let's be honest, or at least, let ME admit this, and you can agree (or not). Facebook, for all its evils, makes me feel less alone. It allows me to lift up friends who need it; it lets me join in on sharing sympathies, joys, and life celebrations. I really, truly, LOVE some people whom without Facebook, I wouldn't be able to "talk to" very often.
Plus I like looking at silly pictures of acquaintances' children or animals doing stupid things...sometimes...and being able to skip it when I don't wanna deal. Regardless, it makes me smile. I enjoy praying for people who ask for it, and being prayed for when I need it, too. Think of all those opportunities to spread the love, people!
We are meant to live in community with each other, and I just wanna say: Yeah, Internet!
A huge thank you to allllll my friends on the computer who give me encouragement and love over cyberspace. I appreciate your time, your energies, and watching what makes "news" in YOUR lives!
God bless all of you, and happy October!
Monday, October 10, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
WOW...just Wow.....
I had some extra "free time" today and was simply wasting it by boppin' around on my computer lookin' at "stuff". Yep. No biggee. When I realized I hadn't written anything in here since November. Wow.
I know how much my life revolves around my monkey children, but after thinking for a scant second or two, I have to admit there is so much to learn from this stage of all our lives.
For example: my 5 year old daughter really, REALLY wanted to ride in another mom's car today, after school, instead of mine. We were going to the same place, so I really didn't care. HOWEVER, I said no.
No specific reason, really, just "no". At the time, "no" was easier. This led to begging, and then whining, and then the..(wait for it)....tantrum. In which case, my "no" became a serious, "don't push me on this kid, I might snap" kind of NO. So, in pure MindyMommy fashion, I told HER that I was going to say 'yes' but then she HAD to throw her fit...so....really it's her own fault.
Wow. just Wow.
Am I a horrible, inflexible, mean mommy who enjoys torturing the monkeys? hmmmm...well.....okay. On a bad day, maybe. In general, I like to think of myself as "a donkey on the edge!" (yes, thank you: a random Shrek reference for those discerning readers) or a mom who has only a few hard core rules. One of mine is that the kid automatically does NOT get whatever it is he/she wants if they throw a fit. Period. Because I said NO and I want obedient children.
Except....
When I REALLY think about it, I realize that everything about defining the tantrum is totally arbitrary. WOW.
-WHO decides how big of a deal the tantrum is? me
-WHO decides if the situation calls for squashing it completely then and there or appeasing the monkey before any poo gets thrown? (ahhhh...Madagascar reference there) me.
-WHO tries to make sense of the whole mess? anyone? anyone? Bueller...Bueller (snort, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, an oldie but goodie). Still me.
Okay. hang on. I'm rambling. But I've seen it done so well in other blogs...I have a point here...coming around...pretend you are tacking your sailboat, people .....and ....swing....
This leads to a realization: I am totally full of crap.
I am really and truly makin' this stuff up as I go. Left to my own devices, we'd live in squalor and do violent things with dishes on the front lawn, screaming, "Dishes are DONE, man!" (Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead, 1991- a classic, not really). Thus I should not be left to my own devices.
Somewhere around my daughter's sixth month or so, my husband wearily said to me something to the effect of: "well...at least YOU know what you are doing..." I promptly responded with heartfelt laughter and then a Mindy-esque retort of "Are you HIGH?" (no, he was not; and yes, it's just an expression). I was completely unaware that he had attributed such an absurd notion to my person. Wow...just wow.
I immediately disillusioned the poor man by explaining in great detail all the stuff I did "wrong" on a daily basis, and then the periodic "ooops" events, (like letting her roll off the futon onto the carpet when she was a few months old). Now our monkey children are 5 and 2 1/2. The discussion of knowing what I am doing has never been repeated. We are openly both wingin' it now. (Don't MAKE me tell you about the time she got a training potty seat stuck around her neck and couldn't get it off her head. Yes, it really happened; and Yes, it involved a fire truck and paramedics. There are pictures...)
It has been my personal experience that nothing, but NOTHING twists you up inside, both good and bad, like being a parent. Being responsible for, loving on, and dealing with, however many monkeys are there. Nothing messes with your self esteem, your self image, your sleep, your love life, your sanity (for cryin' out loud!) like being a mom.
I have a friend who has four kids. FOUR. I have two. TWO. This is important because she appears to me to hold up under the pressures of two times as many kids as I have about as good as I do my measly two. She is one of my heroes. One of my other friends has twins about the same age as my 2 1/2 year old. TWO 2 1/2 year olds at the SAME TIME. She's another cape wearin' mommy. Yet another one dwells in a very small living space, raising two sons, sleeping on a pull out sofa bed with her husband, and always manages to be one of my favorite people. I have more. I am blessed beyond belief to have more friends like these monkey wrangling mommas. I tell you about them to share the hope I have in us all that makes me smile almost on a daily basis.
Tons of things have been written about "mommy guilt" but that is not my point. I'm not even trying to be self- deprecating and pretend I'm a bad mom. I'm not. I know I'm not. But....I'm still full of crap.
Up there, the tantrum paragraph? Where I said that I have a rule about obedience? hmmmmm
Think about that for a minute. Then let me throw back in the "things to learn" part.
If I personally believe that my children should obey ME, how do I feel about my own obedience? How YOU doin' (pretend this is said in Joey from "Friends" fashion with the head nod thing)? Yeh. Maybe not too hot. How often do I immediately obey God's command? How fast do I offer up a spirit of submission?
Ahhhh...this is the point, gentle reader (I have TOTALLY always wanted to write that!!).
(I will say "we" as a generalization, when I really mean "I" and just don't want to feel all alone). I think parenting is so hard because we have a mirror constantly thrown up at us, which is both good and bad. We see our monkeys, and their behavior, and it reflects on OUR behavior (or sometimes, more accurately, our behavior in reaction to theirs).
We need to teach our children through our examples, and our behavior. Maybe we even need to learn from them, too....but that's at the end....
Really, we need to demonstrate more fruits of the spirit as described in Galatians 5:22. I certainly need to master them better. These include love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.
WOW...just wow.
How are we supposed to manage THAT?
ahhhhhhh.....God can manage it. (big smiley graphic here)
I'm learning, remember?
-I've learned to lean on God to help me not hang my children up in the closet by their toes in the lovely hour between nap and dinner time (I really would not do this, The State frowns on it).
-I have learned to embrace my friends and other moms whom I respect and love, to feel like I am not "doing this alone." A great sense of humor is a great gift from God.
-When I feel like the zookeepers are not really in charge, I try to remember who I believe really IS.
Some lady I did not know hugged me in church the other day, whispering in my ear, "You are so good with her (my daughter). It's wonderful to see." uh...whaaaaat? Where did THAT come from? wow....
Yeh. God's got my back. I hope I realize THAT more often.
Maybe here is an appropriate spot to give a huge shout out to all my church community whom God placed me among to ....well...help me with my own tantrums and have the opportunity to grow together.
So, taking you back to the beginning example of my daughter and HER tantrum...she came home, and drew a picture of her and her friend having a sleep over. She included a thought bubble, depicting her dreaming of riding in their car (which her mean mommy wouldn't allow). She expressed it, apparently, and has now moved on to other things. Wow......
Whereas her mommy spent however many minutes writing a blog post after the silly episode, thinking deep thoughts (see Jack Handy, a comedy sketch on SNL in the 90's)......
....mmmmm....maybe I should have gotten out some crayons and paper instead.....
Be blessed,
m
I know how much my life revolves around my monkey children, but after thinking for a scant second or two, I have to admit there is so much to learn from this stage of all our lives.
For example: my 5 year old daughter really, REALLY wanted to ride in another mom's car today, after school, instead of mine. We were going to the same place, so I really didn't care. HOWEVER, I said no.
No specific reason, really, just "no". At the time, "no" was easier. This led to begging, and then whining, and then the..(wait for it)....tantrum. In which case, my "no" became a serious, "don't push me on this kid, I might snap" kind of NO. So, in pure MindyMommy fashion, I told HER that I was going to say 'yes' but then she HAD to throw her fit...so....really it's her own fault.
Wow. just Wow.
Am I a horrible, inflexible, mean mommy who enjoys torturing the monkeys? hmmmm...well.....okay. On a bad day, maybe. In general, I like to think of myself as "a donkey on the edge!" (yes, thank you: a random Shrek reference for those discerning readers) or a mom who has only a few hard core rules. One of mine is that the kid automatically does NOT get whatever it is he/she wants if they throw a fit. Period. Because I said NO and I want obedient children.
Except....
When I REALLY think about it, I realize that everything about defining the tantrum is totally arbitrary. WOW.
-WHO decides how big of a deal the tantrum is? me
-WHO decides if the situation calls for squashing it completely then and there or appeasing the monkey before any poo gets thrown? (ahhhh...Madagascar reference there) me.
-WHO tries to make sense of the whole mess? anyone? anyone? Bueller...Bueller (snort, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, an oldie but goodie). Still me.
Okay. hang on. I'm rambling. But I've seen it done so well in other blogs...I have a point here...coming around...pretend you are tacking your sailboat, people .....and ....swing....
This leads to a realization: I am totally full of crap.
I am really and truly makin' this stuff up as I go. Left to my own devices, we'd live in squalor and do violent things with dishes on the front lawn, screaming, "Dishes are DONE, man!" (Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead, 1991- a classic, not really). Thus I should not be left to my own devices.
Somewhere around my daughter's sixth month or so, my husband wearily said to me something to the effect of: "well...at least YOU know what you are doing..." I promptly responded with heartfelt laughter and then a Mindy-esque retort of "Are you HIGH?" (no, he was not; and yes, it's just an expression). I was completely unaware that he had attributed such an absurd notion to my person. Wow...just wow.
I immediately disillusioned the poor man by explaining in great detail all the stuff I did "wrong" on a daily basis, and then the periodic "ooops" events, (like letting her roll off the futon onto the carpet when she was a few months old). Now our monkey children are 5 and 2 1/2. The discussion of knowing what I am doing has never been repeated. We are openly both wingin' it now. (Don't MAKE me tell you about the time she got a training potty seat stuck around her neck and couldn't get it off her head. Yes, it really happened; and Yes, it involved a fire truck and paramedics. There are pictures...)
It has been my personal experience that nothing, but NOTHING twists you up inside, both good and bad, like being a parent. Being responsible for, loving on, and dealing with, however many monkeys are there. Nothing messes with your self esteem, your self image, your sleep, your love life, your sanity (for cryin' out loud!) like being a mom.
I have a friend who has four kids. FOUR. I have two. TWO. This is important because she appears to me to hold up under the pressures of two times as many kids as I have about as good as I do my measly two. She is one of my heroes. One of my other friends has twins about the same age as my 2 1/2 year old. TWO 2 1/2 year olds at the SAME TIME. She's another cape wearin' mommy. Yet another one dwells in a very small living space, raising two sons, sleeping on a pull out sofa bed with her husband, and always manages to be one of my favorite people. I have more. I am blessed beyond belief to have more friends like these monkey wrangling mommas. I tell you about them to share the hope I have in us all that makes me smile almost on a daily basis.
Tons of things have been written about "mommy guilt" but that is not my point. I'm not even trying to be self- deprecating and pretend I'm a bad mom. I'm not. I know I'm not. But....I'm still full of crap.
Up there, the tantrum paragraph? Where I said that I have a rule about obedience? hmmmmm
Think about that for a minute. Then let me throw back in the "things to learn" part.
If I personally believe that my children should obey ME, how do I feel about my own obedience? How YOU doin' (pretend this is said in Joey from "Friends" fashion with the head nod thing)? Yeh. Maybe not too hot. How often do I immediately obey God's command? How fast do I offer up a spirit of submission?
Ahhhh...this is the point, gentle reader (I have TOTALLY always wanted to write that!!).
(I will say "we" as a generalization, when I really mean "I" and just don't want to feel all alone). I think parenting is so hard because we have a mirror constantly thrown up at us, which is both good and bad. We see our monkeys, and their behavior, and it reflects on OUR behavior (or sometimes, more accurately, our behavior in reaction to theirs).
We need to teach our children through our examples, and our behavior. Maybe we even need to learn from them, too....but that's at the end....
Really, we need to demonstrate more fruits of the spirit as described in Galatians 5:22. I certainly need to master them better. These include love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.
WOW...just wow.
How are we supposed to manage THAT?
ahhhhhhh.....God can manage it. (big smiley graphic here)
I'm learning, remember?
-I've learned to lean on God to help me not hang my children up in the closet by their toes in the lovely hour between nap and dinner time (I really would not do this, The State frowns on it).
-I have learned to embrace my friends and other moms whom I respect and love, to feel like I am not "doing this alone." A great sense of humor is a great gift from God.
-When I feel like the zookeepers are not really in charge, I try to remember who I believe really IS.
Some lady I did not know hugged me in church the other day, whispering in my ear, "You are so good with her (my daughter). It's wonderful to see." uh...whaaaaat? Where did THAT come from? wow....
Yeh. God's got my back. I hope I realize THAT more often.
Maybe here is an appropriate spot to give a huge shout out to all my church community whom God placed me among to ....well...help me with my own tantrums and have the opportunity to grow together.
So, taking you back to the beginning example of my daughter and HER tantrum...she came home, and drew a picture of her and her friend having a sleep over. She included a thought bubble, depicting her dreaming of riding in their car (which her mean mommy wouldn't allow). She expressed it, apparently, and has now moved on to other things. Wow......
Whereas her mommy spent however many minutes writing a blog post after the silly episode, thinking deep thoughts (see Jack Handy, a comedy sketch on SNL in the 90's)......
....mmmmm....maybe I should have gotten out some crayons and paper instead.....
Be blessed,
m
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
God's Grace...Again....
So I was feeling a bit nostalgic lately.
Maybe due to the weather, maybe due to the time of year (I love, love, LOVE Fall).
I have had some seriously cool dreams where people I haven't talked to in years pop up in one or the other and I wake up smiling. It's been great. Until today.
Today I "googled" someone, just to see if I could find him. Someone whom I have not actually seen for at least 17 or 18 years; but someone whom I loved when I was younger. Much younger.
So...getting back to Google. I searched. I found.
I did not like what I found. I was troubled enough by what I found that I am now writing about it.
Where did my friend show up on the search?
White pages? nope
Business directory? nope
Classmates.com? nope
How about the state Department of Justice Violent and Sexual Offenders List?
Yep.
What your brain just did...what your insides just did when you read that....that "ugh" you just experienced?
Yep. THAT.
I sighed "Good Lord" loud enough to make my daughter ask, "What, Mom?" to which I said, "nothing, honey"....of course. What was I going to say: "oh, your mom just found out that one of the guys she was closest to as a young girl is now a violent offender"...uh-uh. It was "nothing, honey."
So I am deeply disturbed by this little fact that I just HAD to find out today. Isn't technology great? Hmmm sometimes I suppose. Okay, always, I guess. What if I had just called the house and "got in touch" like I have done so often since the internet was so easy to snoop people with? What if I just sent a Christmas card and reconnected? Ha! Bad idea! How totally deflating to find someone and be excited and then whammo, realize that the "finding" will be as far as I will ever get.
As I read down the information provided for my friend, a voice in my head started reminding me of all the times I was alone with this boy, all the times I went to his house, his mom let me in, and I crawled into bed with him and just talked (yes, really). I thought of all the times he protected me at teenage parties, all the times he comforted me in my teen angst against my dad, all the times he....doesn't matter. Whatever kind of man this boy turned into was not what I experienced. He wasn't violent to me, or with me. He, in fact, was who I went to when I experienced violence in my own home during those years.
See? "Good Lord" was an appropriate exclamation! God was, is, and will be good enough to keep me safe when it is His will. Safe from others, and from myself sometimes. His grace covers me; and His love is where I turn at times like these: times that are disturbing. Times that make me say, "what the...????"
But I am also blessed to be able to turn to God in the good times; and thank God for the good times in my past. When I am faced with big, huge slaps in the face like finding someone I care about on the flippin' Department of Justice Offenders list (argh!!) I know that there is God in it. Period. ...and then I can move on.
And let closed doors stay closed.
Thank you, God. Again.
Maybe due to the weather, maybe due to the time of year (I love, love, LOVE Fall).
I have had some seriously cool dreams where people I haven't talked to in years pop up in one or the other and I wake up smiling. It's been great. Until today.
Today I "googled" someone, just to see if I could find him. Someone whom I have not actually seen for at least 17 or 18 years; but someone whom I loved when I was younger. Much younger.
So...getting back to Google. I searched. I found.
I did not like what I found. I was troubled enough by what I found that I am now writing about it.
Where did my friend show up on the search?
White pages? nope
Business directory? nope
Classmates.com? nope
How about the state Department of Justice Violent and Sexual Offenders List?
Yep.
What your brain just did...what your insides just did when you read that....that "ugh" you just experienced?
Yep. THAT.
I sighed "Good Lord" loud enough to make my daughter ask, "What, Mom?" to which I said, "nothing, honey"....of course. What was I going to say: "oh, your mom just found out that one of the guys she was closest to as a young girl is now a violent offender"...uh-uh. It was "nothing, honey."
So I am deeply disturbed by this little fact that I just HAD to find out today. Isn't technology great? Hmmm sometimes I suppose. Okay, always, I guess. What if I had just called the house and "got in touch" like I have done so often since the internet was so easy to snoop people with? What if I just sent a Christmas card and reconnected? Ha! Bad idea! How totally deflating to find someone and be excited and then whammo, realize that the "finding" will be as far as I will ever get.
As I read down the information provided for my friend, a voice in my head started reminding me of all the times I was alone with this boy, all the times I went to his house, his mom let me in, and I crawled into bed with him and just talked (yes, really). I thought of all the times he protected me at teenage parties, all the times he comforted me in my teen angst against my dad, all the times he....doesn't matter. Whatever kind of man this boy turned into was not what I experienced. He wasn't violent to me, or with me. He, in fact, was who I went to when I experienced violence in my own home during those years.
See? "Good Lord" was an appropriate exclamation! God was, is, and will be good enough to keep me safe when it is His will. Safe from others, and from myself sometimes. His grace covers me; and His love is where I turn at times like these: times that are disturbing. Times that make me say, "what the...????"
But I am also blessed to be able to turn to God in the good times; and thank God for the good times in my past. When I am faced with big, huge slaps in the face like finding someone I care about on the flippin' Department of Justice Offenders list (argh!!) I know that there is God in it. Period. ...and then I can move on.
And let closed doors stay closed.
Thank you, God. Again.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Not Simply a Massage
For my birthday earlier this month, one of my friends offered to take me to breakfast and out for a foot massage. We finally went this morning. Our experience was so...well...an experience, that we jointly agreed it needed to be put in this blog.
Let me set the stage here. I am not new to massage; and in fact, consider massage my only consistent luxury for which I am willing to pay (besides chocolate). Knowing how much I love them, my friend, Jen, offered to take me to a new place in our town.
To fully understand this "massage experience", it must be said that I am a plus sized woman, as is my friend. She weighs a lot less than I do; however, as wide as I am, she is tall. We are both White. Both factors make us oddities in our area of town, to be sure, since the majority of the population is Asian and Indian here. The massage place we were going to is owned and operated by lovely Asian people. We knew this, and didn't think much of it at the time.
Okay, so...enter two crazy white woman into a store front where about a half dozen people are milling about, all Asian, all staring at us. No one says anything; they only nod at us. Someone finally says, "massage?" and we smile and say, "Yes, please, foot massages." We gesture to ourselves, indicating two of us. A bit of discussion in a language neither of us understands ensues, and they agree on putting us into two "chairs" next to each other.
Ahhhh....the chairs. I mentioned I was wide, but Praise God! these chairs were sooooo wide that there was ample room for allllll of me. Enough to make you laugh, yes, but just wait: they were purple/maroon color, velour, and they tipped completely flat back so later we were laying down. Stools were pulled up for our legs and feet, and then we waited. This whole time, all the people there, whatever their language, were having seemingly fervent debate about who knows what, with a lot of gesturing to the ladies (us). One person put a blanket on us. One person put our feet in warm water buckets. Another person pushed our chairs flat, so we were laying down. Yet another made sure the pillows were in exactly the right spot.
Okay. So are you getting the overwhelming attention here? We couldn't understand a single word anyone said, but it was painfully obvious that we were the center of attention here. As some point, I was positive they were discussing my tattoos and calling other friends/relatives/visitors over to check them out...but I am getting ahead of myself.
There were women and men there, but two men appeared to be the ones who were going to rub our feet. But wait a minute! As we lay there, the guys sat on stools at our heads, and began to rub their fingers through our hair. I say "we" and "our" because Jen was next to me and I could tell the same thing was happening to HER as was happening to ME. Fingers in hair. Then hands on our faces. Woah! unexpected...but... interesting. Face massage! Scalp massage! Bye bye hairdo. So long makeup. No talking to the ladies, only an ongoing dialogue about ????? by everyone else.
Back to the massage: face, head, scalp, neck, arms, shoulders, hands, fingers (wow...what a wild foot massage, huh?) okay...thoughts in my head went something like this: "hmmm....interesting...feels good, but, not really what we meant. How long is this taking? what is he doing now? what will he do next?"
oh. I forgot to mention that this was all being done in one big room where everyone was, everyone could see everything, and all the people talking about whatever it was were doing so loudly and constantly. I almost laughed several times.
By this time I am over the fact that this man I have never met before, whom I can't speak with, has had his hands in my hair, all over my face, and is now rubbing my leg. Sounds hilarious, right? He finally got to my leg and my foot. Twenty five minutes have passed, and I realize that he still has another leg and foot to get to; and there is NO way that I am going to be able to pick up my daughter from preschool.
I make an emergency call to a mom whose child goes to school with my daughter. Using as few words as possible, I ask her to do me a favor and drive Mo home. I tell her I will tell her why later. Cool, huh? I can quit worrying about one kid. BUT...the other child is at home with a sitter who thinks we'll return around the time school ends. Not looking good at this point. I'll have to have faith that she'll be okay with it.
Ah, all right. He's on to the other leg and the last part of the "foot massage". Nope. I am finally focused on enjoying his foot rub when he finishes. And says words that struck fear into my heart (and into Jen's, I confirmed later): "turn over". My brain flashes bright light and I go momentarily dumbstruck. What? Turn over? ME? turn over HERE in this place? with my gigantic backside sticking up in the air and my face down where people can literally talk behind my back? Really?
Ugh. So I do it.
I turn over and proceed to get a fabulous full body massage while fully dressed, lying on my stomach, on this amazingly comfy chair, from a man I never met, whom I don't understand, sort of...and I never told where it hurts, but regardless... My brain stops exploding and my inner giggler is silenced as I am impressed over and over how he gets the EXACT spot and just keeps going and going and going and going.
This gentleman constantly pulled my shirt down over my butt. He constantly kept a hand on me (which anyone who's had massage knows you are supposed to do). Plain and simple, he was fabulous. At some point he stopped talking to the other people and focused on ME.
At the end of everything, which by the way took an hour and twenty minutes, he gave us cups of water and a big smile. Then he told Jen, "sleep, it's okay." He did TOO speak English! Then he disappeared. After we sat up and got ready to leave, all the other people, mostly ladies now, started talking to us. In English. Hmmm....and very politely asked us to come again and tell our friends about the place and how the chairs were just delivered that morning and they were soooo happy we liked them. Wow. And it DID all run together just like I just typed it.
Why take so long to describe what happened today?
Because how many times do we expect one thing and then get another? How many times do we set something up in our minds, our hearts, our lives, and then God surprises us with something WAY better than we would ever have imagined? If we were not adventurous enough to trust that we'd be fine there with strangers, with a language we didn't know, we wouldn't have been blessed by two of the most amazing "foot massages" we'd ever had!
Jen and I had a wonderful time together. I was able to make her laugh with my rendition of what was being said in another language ("that tattoo?"....) and not REALLY worrying about what others thought of us. I laughed at her upon hearing her say "ow" and "oh" and "ow" again as she was getting HER massage. It was fabulous and so much fun.
We had no control over that hour and a half after we sat down in those chairs.
We were unexpectedly schooled without words:
-In letting go and trusting.
-In counting our blessings instead of worrying.
-In being thankful for good friends.
-In making the connection between God having His hand in our lives, and on our hair, and all over everywhere else and feeling it, because He is no stranger to those who follow Him.
So was today simply a bizarre massage experience? Or a fabulous way to connect to each other and the world around us, with the hand of God over it all?
We returned home and the kids were fine. The mom took one child home while the lovely sitter was fine with the other (and then them both). We were 45 minutes later than expected, but we arrived stress free and feeling wonderful!
All because of a "foot massage" and omelets. Fabulous.
Let me set the stage here. I am not new to massage; and in fact, consider massage my only consistent luxury for which I am willing to pay (besides chocolate). Knowing how much I love them, my friend, Jen, offered to take me to a new place in our town.
To fully understand this "massage experience", it must be said that I am a plus sized woman, as is my friend. She weighs a lot less than I do; however, as wide as I am, she is tall. We are both White. Both factors make us oddities in our area of town, to be sure, since the majority of the population is Asian and Indian here. The massage place we were going to is owned and operated by lovely Asian people. We knew this, and didn't think much of it at the time.
Okay, so...enter two crazy white woman into a store front where about a half dozen people are milling about, all Asian, all staring at us. No one says anything; they only nod at us. Someone finally says, "massage?" and we smile and say, "Yes, please, foot massages." We gesture to ourselves, indicating two of us. A bit of discussion in a language neither of us understands ensues, and they agree on putting us into two "chairs" next to each other.
Ahhhh....the chairs. I mentioned I was wide, but Praise God! these chairs were sooooo wide that there was ample room for allllll of me. Enough to make you laugh, yes, but just wait: they were purple/maroon color, velour, and they tipped completely flat back so later we were laying down. Stools were pulled up for our legs and feet, and then we waited. This whole time, all the people there, whatever their language, were having seemingly fervent debate about who knows what, with a lot of gesturing to the ladies (us). One person put a blanket on us. One person put our feet in warm water buckets. Another person pushed our chairs flat, so we were laying down. Yet another made sure the pillows were in exactly the right spot.
Okay. So are you getting the overwhelming attention here? We couldn't understand a single word anyone said, but it was painfully obvious that we were the center of attention here. As some point, I was positive they were discussing my tattoos and calling other friends/relatives/visitors over to check them out...but I am getting ahead of myself.
There were women and men there, but two men appeared to be the ones who were going to rub our feet. But wait a minute! As we lay there, the guys sat on stools at our heads, and began to rub their fingers through our hair. I say "we" and "our" because Jen was next to me and I could tell the same thing was happening to HER as was happening to ME. Fingers in hair. Then hands on our faces. Woah! unexpected...but... interesting. Face massage! Scalp massage! Bye bye hairdo. So long makeup. No talking to the ladies, only an ongoing dialogue about ????? by everyone else.
Back to the massage: face, head, scalp, neck, arms, shoulders, hands, fingers (wow...what a wild foot massage, huh?) okay...thoughts in my head went something like this: "hmmm....interesting...feels good, but, not really what we meant. How long is this taking? what is he doing now? what will he do next?"
oh. I forgot to mention that this was all being done in one big room where everyone was, everyone could see everything, and all the people talking about whatever it was were doing so loudly and constantly. I almost laughed several times.
By this time I am over the fact that this man I have never met before, whom I can't speak with, has had his hands in my hair, all over my face, and is now rubbing my leg. Sounds hilarious, right? He finally got to my leg and my foot. Twenty five minutes have passed, and I realize that he still has another leg and foot to get to; and there is NO way that I am going to be able to pick up my daughter from preschool.
I make an emergency call to a mom whose child goes to school with my daughter. Using as few words as possible, I ask her to do me a favor and drive Mo home. I tell her I will tell her why later. Cool, huh? I can quit worrying about one kid. BUT...the other child is at home with a sitter who thinks we'll return around the time school ends. Not looking good at this point. I'll have to have faith that she'll be okay with it.
Ah, all right. He's on to the other leg and the last part of the "foot massage". Nope. I am finally focused on enjoying his foot rub when he finishes. And says words that struck fear into my heart (and into Jen's, I confirmed later): "turn over". My brain flashes bright light and I go momentarily dumbstruck. What? Turn over? ME? turn over HERE in this place? with my gigantic backside sticking up in the air and my face down where people can literally talk behind my back? Really?
Ugh. So I do it.
I turn over and proceed to get a fabulous full body massage while fully dressed, lying on my stomach, on this amazingly comfy chair, from a man I never met, whom I don't understand, sort of...and I never told where it hurts, but regardless... My brain stops exploding and my inner giggler is silenced as I am impressed over and over how he gets the EXACT spot and just keeps going and going and going and going.
This gentleman constantly pulled my shirt down over my butt. He constantly kept a hand on me (which anyone who's had massage knows you are supposed to do). Plain and simple, he was fabulous. At some point he stopped talking to the other people and focused on ME.
At the end of everything, which by the way took an hour and twenty minutes, he gave us cups of water and a big smile. Then he told Jen, "sleep, it's okay." He did TOO speak English! Then he disappeared. After we sat up and got ready to leave, all the other people, mostly ladies now, started talking to us. In English. Hmmm....and very politely asked us to come again and tell our friends about the place and how the chairs were just delivered that morning and they were soooo happy we liked them. Wow. And it DID all run together just like I just typed it.
Why take so long to describe what happened today?
Because how many times do we expect one thing and then get another? How many times do we set something up in our minds, our hearts, our lives, and then God surprises us with something WAY better than we would ever have imagined? If we were not adventurous enough to trust that we'd be fine there with strangers, with a language we didn't know, we wouldn't have been blessed by two of the most amazing "foot massages" we'd ever had!
Jen and I had a wonderful time together. I was able to make her laugh with my rendition of what was being said in another language ("that tattoo?"....) and not REALLY worrying about what others thought of us. I laughed at her upon hearing her say "ow" and "oh" and "ow" again as she was getting HER massage. It was fabulous and so much fun.
We had no control over that hour and a half after we sat down in those chairs.
We were unexpectedly schooled without words:
-In letting go and trusting.
-In counting our blessings instead of worrying.
-In being thankful for good friends.
-In making the connection between God having His hand in our lives, and on our hair, and all over everywhere else and feeling it, because He is no stranger to those who follow Him.
So was today simply a bizarre massage experience? Or a fabulous way to connect to each other and the world around us, with the hand of God over it all?
We returned home and the kids were fine. The mom took one child home while the lovely sitter was fine with the other (and then them both). We were 45 minutes later than expected, but we arrived stress free and feeling wonderful!
All because of a "foot massage" and omelets. Fabulous.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Learning to dance....
Okay.
So everyone nowadays has a blog.
Seriously, everyone.
Interesting people, intelligent people, artists, and ...well, everyone else too.
So why not ME?
I fall somewhere in there. Some days I would fall in the intelligent and interesting category, and other days, well, not so much.
But let me tell you something: funny stuff happens to me ALL the TIME. If you know me, you realize that I am totally telling the truth; and if you don't know me, you'll come to know that I just CAN'T make this crap up!
Like just Wednesday, after discussing in Bible study that I needed more joy in my life and more gentleness to handle the family when I an NOT feeling joyful....my 21 month old son locked himself in his sister's room. Now...before you laugh and shake your head, and say so what: it was a knob with a lock for which we did NOT have a key. Just having moved into this house two weeks ago, we did not realize there even was a lock with a key hole in it on the door! So...one mommy, two contractors, and one big sister couldn't get the boy out. My husband came home from work and freed our son with a plastic file folder. Little man was totally fine inside and just thought all the attention was fine and dandy.
THIS lovely incident resulted in my husband being my hero for the day. He's a great guy. More about him later. He'll continue to be a great guy, I am sure. heehee
What do I have to offer in here? and why did I call it Mineve's Dance?
My name is Mindy Eve. My closer friends call me "min".
The dance is life. When I let God lead me, I seem to dance a weeee bit better than when I am trying to boogy down on my own. Some days I tango, some days I waltz, and some days I would prefer to sit on the sidelines and watch someone else do a "Dancing with the Stars" moment instead of little ol' me. Every day the dance changes at least a little, and I have a chance to improve my steps.
Most of my dance card is filled with my two children, Mo, age four, and her little brother, Car, aged 21 months. Nothing brings me as much joy or as much frustration as various dance numbers with these two. They are huge blessings to me and my biggest chance for growth. My favorite adult dance partner is my husband, U, who quietly deals with the plusses and minuses of living with someone like me who tends to live a lot louder and more expressive than he.
NOW I can learn new dance steps while creating a blog post! How fun! I hope that it will be enjoyable for us all. Regardless, may God bless you.
"Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit." Galatians 5:25
So everyone nowadays has a blog.
Seriously, everyone.
Interesting people, intelligent people, artists, and ...well, everyone else too.
So why not ME?
I fall somewhere in there. Some days I would fall in the intelligent and interesting category, and other days, well, not so much.
But let me tell you something: funny stuff happens to me ALL the TIME. If you know me, you realize that I am totally telling the truth; and if you don't know me, you'll come to know that I just CAN'T make this crap up!
Like just Wednesday, after discussing in Bible study that I needed more joy in my life and more gentleness to handle the family when I an NOT feeling joyful....my 21 month old son locked himself in his sister's room. Now...before you laugh and shake your head, and say so what: it was a knob with a lock for which we did NOT have a key. Just having moved into this house two weeks ago, we did not realize there even was a lock with a key hole in it on the door! So...one mommy, two contractors, and one big sister couldn't get the boy out. My husband came home from work and freed our son with a plastic file folder. Little man was totally fine inside and just thought all the attention was fine and dandy.
THIS lovely incident resulted in my husband being my hero for the day. He's a great guy. More about him later. He'll continue to be a great guy, I am sure. heehee
What do I have to offer in here? and why did I call it Mineve's Dance?
My name is Mindy Eve. My closer friends call me "min".
The dance is life. When I let God lead me, I seem to dance a weeee bit better than when I am trying to boogy down on my own. Some days I tango, some days I waltz, and some days I would prefer to sit on the sidelines and watch someone else do a "Dancing with the Stars" moment instead of little ol' me. Every day the dance changes at least a little, and I have a chance to improve my steps.
Most of my dance card is filled with my two children, Mo, age four, and her little brother, Car, aged 21 months. Nothing brings me as much joy or as much frustration as various dance numbers with these two. They are huge blessings to me and my biggest chance for growth. My favorite adult dance partner is my husband, U, who quietly deals with the plusses and minuses of living with someone like me who tends to live a lot louder and more expressive than he.
NOW I can learn new dance steps while creating a blog post! How fun! I hope that it will be enjoyable for us all. Regardless, may God bless you.
"Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit." Galatians 5:25
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