Never Ever Dull
With every conversation, I always seem to end with "Never a dull moment"....our lives are rich, complex, and beautiful stories. Join me in laughing about everyday things and appreciating life-bumpy roads and all.
Every weekday morning at 5:10, I awaken to some obnoxious melody on my cell (funny how you love a ring tone until it wakes you up!). My toes feel the gentle but firm tug of my huge, furry puppy and I know I have only a minute before he starts his whining act, arousing my boys. I quickly get my socks and athletic shoes on, stumbling to the kitchen. I grab the leash and Banks sits quietly whacking his tail on the vinyl floor. He knows he must sit perfectly still in order for me to get the hook onto his collar....and he recognizes how uncoordinated I am at what is now 5:18. Banks proudly romps out of our home, into our driveway, and onto the street. No one is on the road at this hour....No one except this one man. This gentleman in his 70's, 80's, or 90's (along with being uncoordinated in these wee morning hours, I'm a bit slower in my discernment of age) is always out walking. At first, he scared me. I thought: Who would be out here at this time of day? Ridiculous! But then, I realized I am and I kinda think I'm normal =) (I've been out here ever since the Mega Bag of York Peppermint Patty incident with Banks.....oh, boy....it's good I love that dog...) Every day, I see this man walking at a brisk pace. I also notice he wears a face mask (not the Halloween-scary kind, but the type one wears when sick) Adding a bit more, this man always, always speaks to me: "Good morning! What a glorious day!" or "Hello! It's a bit breezy today, isn't it?". How can he get a complete thought out at this hour? The sun isn't even awake yet. I try to respond in a raspy-morning voice: "Yes." But I began to wonder about this man. I came to a conclusion. (I think most men would keep walking and not think twice...not me, I had to figure this situation out.) This man probably has cancer or some sickness. I postulated further: He has been sick, is getting better, and is protecting himself from germs by walking this early to get exercise and stay away from people until he is stronger and healthier. Who knows the real story? But it did get me thinking. Recently, I've been in contact with people who have serious health issues. How would I handle that myself? Like this man? Each day seems to be a special blessing to him as he cheerily greets me every single morning. He doesn't move at a snail's pace...he's pushing himself and moving forward, embracing life...even that early in the day. I've realized you never know what might happen....and that every day should be lived to the fullest. Each day we wake up is a gift. I've taken the approach this year with my class to make each day the best it can be for each child. I know I won't reach that goal.....but I try. Now, more than any other time in my life, I've realized how special each day is. It really is a blessing from the Lord....and I need to be thankful for it and extend that blessing to my little people and others. Each day really is glorious. Yep. I got all that from walking my dog at 5:10 a.m. This is the day the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24
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It's 9:42 p.m. on Thursday and I find myself at Walgreens. I was tired (we had just rolled in from our football games), hungry (never had a break to eat), frustrated and turning into the kind of mom I vowed never to be:: cranky and ready to blow my top. "We" had a project to finish. "We" didn't know about the extra items needed to complete the assignment until today. Now, it's the evening and the first time I've walked into my home. Ugh. The why-didn't-he-figure-it-out-days-ago mental war kicks in and I try to remain calm. "We" knew about the English assignment. Since it's a challenge for KazKid to tackle projects, we broke it down into steps and I thought "we" were all done when Monday arrived. This project wasn't due til Friday. Thus, in my little ole brain, we were waaaaay ahead of the game. Then, the eve before KazKid needs to walk into school to share his work,, I learn that "we" need to go get poster board, print some photographs, and decorate it all. What? "We" had just spent the weekend completing his poetry piece and now I'm told there's more....due tomorrow?! I just want to crawl under my covers and call it a day. Just let the child learn his lesson and walk in with his partially done project. But I can't. I'm caught in that quandary: do I let him be embarrassed in front of his class or do I bail him out and lecture him with the you-will-not-wait-until-the-last-minute-again stern talk? I think parents everywhere get what I'm talking about. I've seen their glazed looks at the school supply aisle as they stare at tri-fold boards and the multiple choices for poster board options. Glossy or matte? Neon? White? Or white with those "invisible" lines that help keep your lettering straight? We head home after making our purchase...in silence. I really want my lecture to sink in...all the way down to his toesies. I wonder what that Walgreens employee was thinking as I stood like a frozen statue and told my child to go get what he needed....and I didn't budge beyond those moving entrance doors. We get home. I watch my son scramble to assemble everything (he did a fabulous job) and then the lights go out.*** The next afternoon, he walks in beaming and proudly sharing about his project and how well it went. It made those feelings of frustration slowly evaporate. One project down....and only 8 months of school left. Oh, great. Should I just invest in every color of poster board and tri-fold boards? Maybe I could create a handy-dandy drive through service for parents: they drive up and tell me their needs. There could be a business for that! No matter if I start up a business for parents who are desperately trying to help their children by handing out poster boards or not, "we" will be better prepared for that next project =). ***I get 5 hours of sleep, waking up before the sun rises to walk our puppy, Banks. Ever since Banks discovered the mega-bag of York Peppermint Patties that was meant for my team of teachers at school, I've learned it is very beneficial to give Banks a long walk before we leave for the day...never dull. "You're going to do what???"...Ok....it wasn't the jumping-up-and-down-with-glee response I desired. It appeared to be more shocked, stunned, totally disbelieving. I just kept blabbering with excitement. "Yep! He said I could do it. Not only that...he wants me to arrive early and do it for both games on Thursday!" I shared with one of my favorite dads at the football game. He just looked at me and then started smiling...then, laughing. Really?! He's letting you do this?" I sat on my metal bleacher and stared right at him. I know that I can do this job: sports announcer for the football games. It's more than knowing that I'm up in the sports box staying dry and warm during those cold nights....I've wanted this for a long time. You see, I've always wanted to be a sports announcer. I grew up watching sports all the time. My mom and dad would tape the NCAA brackets from the newspaper on the back of our family room door and fill it out diligently all through the month of March (this was long before we had all the handy apps), the Atlanta Braves were on WTBS every day in the summer, and I attended every high school and college football and basketball game. I learned it by osmosis. It was all around me all the time. Then, I had my own kiddos. We tried all sports. But I've been doing this football gig for awhile with one of my sons. I remember tucking him into bed and laying there beside him with a spiral notebook drawing X's and O's, labeling the different positions and using arrows to show the few plays I understood at the time. So...Thursday will be my debut as the first female sports announcer for Sanderson High School. I've googled Best Pumping Songs for Football to create my playlists (pregame & halftime) and listening to football commentators to get some sports lingo ("barreled down the middle for a gain of 7 yards", "almost picked by #6 for the Spartans",etc.). I think I'm ready for Thursday...Just haven't told my son who the announcer will be while he's down on the field! =) Student reading aloud:"...the origins of pizza go back to ancient Greece." Student comments: "Ancient Greece? Wow. That must have been like in 1986!" All week, I was plagued by thoughts like this. It didn't help that Friday was declared "80's Day" in our school. Teachers and staff were asked to contribute photos of what we looked like in the 80;s. Since many of our staff weren't even born in that decade, they could bring in photos of their parents. I began to feel old... At lunch time, one of my little people wanted to know how old I am. I told him. He just looked at me google-eyed and responded, "Whoa! You must have been born in 19-something or 18-something!" My feelings of being old only got worse. Friday rolled around and one of my littles strolled into my classroom saying he was dressed in his 80's clothing. I checked out his clothes but noticed nothing unusual. So I asked what he was wearing that made his outfit 80's-ish. He said, "Did you not see the airplanes on my shirt, Ms. Flowers? Planes were invented in the 80's!" Ugh. So now, I feel like I'm one of the few that displayed my 80's picture on the staff board, lived back in Ancient Greece or at least born in 18-something, and was around when airplanes were invented. My ego was shot. About to leave for the day, one of my sweet, very young teachers dressed in her Flashdance-looking outfit and hair in a sideways ponytail looked at me and said, "Amy, it had to be fun to live in the 80's. Was it fun? What was it like?" At this point, I felt like pulling up a walker with tennis balls attached to the bottom legs and saying, "Why don't we sit for awhile and I'll tell you what it was like to live waaaaaay back in the 80's...." Loved living in the 80's but didn't realize how long ago that was until this week....I'm now going to go sit in my rocker and turn up the tv really loud and watch reruns of "Full House" and "Laverne and Shirley".. Let's just hope next week isn't 70's week.... |
AuthorFun-loving mom to 4 kids and 1 big puppy. Fifth grade teacher of amazing little people who have never ending things to share with me. Love to discuss Jesus, diy projects, and life. Trying to keep it simple: Love Jesus, love people. Archives
December 2021
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