What's in a Word?

Have you ever noticed how many words are uttered without a true understanding of their meaning? I don't mean whether or not the speaker knows the dictionary definition but respects the meaning of the word. A small list came to mind; freedom, respect, pride, democracy, hero, equality, spirituality.

If you watch any type of film, news cast or movie from earlier decades, you will see what I mean. Language is beautiful and can convey so much but I think that so often we scrape the bottom of the barrel when we express ourselves. Looking for either the most ambiguous or simple word to convey a thought/feeling. Is it an attempt to conceal or just simple laziness? Of course, this is just a theory but I think that one could draw a direct line to correspond the health (security of it's government) of a nation with it's use of language. I believe we need to elevate ourselves.

High Five

The janitor at our school is awesome and as a little tribute we cooked up this little surprise that is hosted by our local news station. It's super fun!

Thanks Scott for all you do!

Stupid Big

It was the familiar and hated sound of that croup cough that woke me from sleep Friday night. You know, the one you can hear from three rooms away and strikes terror into the heart of a mother whose brain is still asleep. First let me tell everyone, my kids do croup. It's like a talent or something. They can acquire and present the croup with true aplomb. To wit; I have had a couple trips to emergency rooms in the wee hours because of the aforementioned virus. So in all my years as the mother of croup talented children I've learned a few tricks and I have been conditioned for battle.

My first act of business (after putting on some sort of clothing that I can be seen in should I encounter another mid-night owl) is to bundle up the poor child. While I inevitably spend a few moments searching for shoes, blankets and coats I always manage to protect my child from the elements enough to brave the cold outside (the colder the better in this case) and we make our way to the porch chairs. If you ever get a hankering at 3 am to run past my house, you may get a glimpse of me on the dark porch, cradling a large bundle of blankets in my arms. I can assure you that in this pile of blankets is an actual child whose only body part that is exposed to the elements is his/her mouth. I encourage the child to breath as deeply as possible and voila! the discomfort eases. This ritual typically takes 20 minutes to undergo and I have found it most helpful in the battle against croup.

However, it's never over! Without fail there will be another bout sometime after 60-90 minutes. It's at that point I'm just too stinking tired to cloak up, bundle and sit outside so I choose my second weapon- the steamy shower. This is where I am grateful for Stupid Big.

If anyone's seen my shower, you know what I'm talking about. The builder of my home thought it would be a great idea to put in a HUGE shower in the Master Bedroom. I'm not exaggerating when I say HUGE! (It has 6 shower heads). I have always called my shower (with affection) Stupid Big. I mean, I'm not a swinger so there will never be a gathering of people in my shower!

I have found a reason to be grateful for Stupid Big though and I am always reminded of that on the battle nights of croup. In my shower, I am able to make a bed, pillows and all, to make my child comfortable while the water runs just out of reach of the blankets and fills the "room" with the blessed steam. With the lights turned out, my child can sleep and breath in steam without too much discomfort. It has been several nights when I've sat in the humid interior of the shower that I have been grateful for this little blessing.

So here's to Stupid Big, the shower that is a pain to clean and an embarrassment to think of, I am grateful for your usefulness in the comfort of my children!

Those Kind of Women

I had the chance to attend a meeting about girls camp tonight. It was a really fun time to hear ideas and guidelines about the upcoming girls camp in June. What struck me the most was what I felt as I looked around the room, it was filled with friendly faces I know from so many community services. There were two PTA Presidents, several prominent civic volunteers and just all around high-functioning, achieving women. I felt so lucky to be there with them and to know they are my friends. There are a lot of really great people in this world!

Jinx!

"Jinx.....1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 you owe me a Coke!" I have heard this an incalculable number of times the last few days. I've been jinxed, I've been told I owe several people several Cokes and yet, I didn't find myself playing along until today when my youngest son, with his finger pointed at me, yelled "Jinx" and began to count. Somehow my grade school training kicked in and I found myself, with the milk jug midway between the counter and the refrigerator, yelling "stop". I giggled and walked away totally enjoying my triumph and about five minutes later my oldest son came into the kitchen and said the name of my youngest son. The younger said "finally"!

I didn't realize that I'd jinxed him myself by winning the countdown. I wonder how long he would have remained silent?

Huh?

Update: I've seen another presentation of this by the author and I think that if he had presented it in that way, it would have felt better to me. Here's the link.

First of all I want to apologize in advance to any friends I have who may be from Canada, have ancestors from Canada or know anyone living in Canada. You rock, I think that country is a great place. However.....
The "Slam Poem" from the Canadian opening ceremonies has me shaking my head a bit. I'm not sure if it's a passive aggressive attempt at pointing out what Canada believes is wrong with America or if Canadians have forgotten that they are a protectorate of England ("we are free". What?) I thought it was confrontational, not inspirational and I think that the tone in which it was delivered just reinforced that. All in all, I hope the athletes put on a better show.

We Are More

by Shane Koyczan

When defining Canada

you might list some statistics

you might mention our tallest building

or biggest lake

you might shake a tree in the fall

and call a red leaf Canada

you might rattle off some celebrities

might mention Buffy Sainte-Marie

might even mention the fact that we've got a few

Barenaked Ladies

or that we made these crazy things

like zippers

electric cars

and washing machines

when defining Canada

it seems the world's anthem has been

" been there done that"

and maybe that's where we used to be at

it's true

we've done and we've been

we've seen

all the great themes get swallowed up by the machine

and turned into theme parks

but when defining Canada

don't forget to mention that we have set sparks


we are not just fishing stories

about the one that got away

we do more than sit around and say "eh?"

and yes


we are the home of the Rocket and the Great One

who inspired little number nines

and little number ninety-nines

but we're more than just hockey and fishing lines

off of the rocky coast of the Maritimes

and some say what defines us

is something as simple as please and thank you

and as for you're welcome

well we say that too

but we are more

than genteel or civilized

we are an idea in the process

of being realized

we are young

we are cultures strung together

then woven into a tapestry

and the design

is what makes us more

than the sum total of our history

we are an experiment going right for a change

with influences that range from a to zed

and yes we say zed instead of zee

we are the colours of Chinatown and the coffee of Little Italy

we dream so big that there are those

who would call our ambition an industry

because we are more than sticky maple syrup and clean snow

we do more than grow wheat and brew beer

we are vineyards of good year after good year

we reforest what we clear

because we believe in generations beyond our own

knowing now that so many of us

have grown past what used to be

we can stand here today


filled with all the hope people have

when they say things like "someday"


someday we'll be great

someday we'll be this

or that

someday we'll be at a point

when someday was yesterday

and all of our aspirations will pay the way

for those who on that day

look towards tomorrow

and still they say someday


we will reach the goals we set

and we will get interest on our inspiration

because we are more than a nation of whale watchers and lumberjacks

more than backpacks and hiking trails

we are hammers and nails building bridges

towards those who are willing to walk across

we are the lost-and-found for all those who might find themselves at a loss

we are not the see-through gloss or glamour

of those who clamour for the failings of others

we are fathers brothers sisters and mothers

uncles and nephews aunts and nieces

we are cousins

we are found missing puzzle pieces

we are families with room at the table for newcomers

we are more than summers and winters

more than on and off seasons

we are the reasons people have for wanting to stay

because we are more than what we say or do

we live to get past what we go through


and learn who we are

we are students

students who study the studiousness of studying

so we know what as well as why

we don't have all the answers

but we try

and the effort is what makes us more

we don't all know what it is in life we're looking for

so keep exploring

go far and wide

or go inside but go deep

go deep

as if James Cameron was filming a sequel to The Abyss

and suddenly there was this location scout

trying to figure some way out

to get inside you

because you've been through hell and high water

and you went deep

keep exploring

because we are more

than a laundry list of things to do and places to see

we are more than hills to ski

or countryside ponds to skate

we are the abandoned hesitation of all those who can't wait

we are first-rate greasy-spoon diners and healthy-living cafes

a country that is all the ways you choose to live

a land that can give you variety

because we are choices

we are millions upon millions of voices shouting

" keep exploring... we are more"

we are the surprise the world has in store for you

it's true


Canada is the "what" in "what's new?"

so don't say "been there done that"

unless you've sat on the sidewalk

while chalk artists draw still lifes

on the concrete of a kid in the street

beatboxing to Neil Young for fun

don't say you've been there done that

unless you've been here doing it

let this country be your first-aid kit

for all the times you get sick of the same old same old

let us be the story told to your friends

and when that story ends

leave chapters for the next time you'll come back

next time pack for all the things

you didn't pack for the first time

but don't let your luggage define your travels

each life unravels differently

and experiences are what make up

the colours of our tapestry

we are the true north

strong and free

and what's more

is that we didn't just say it

we made it be.

Library Day

It's Friday and therefore, my youngest son gets to go to the library at the school. This is a big deal! I've always giggled at how intense he gets about locating his book, making sure it's in his backpack and then discussing the preparation he goes through to select the new book later that day. For a long time, I thought this was just so cute. A funny little rite of childhood that was long forgotten to me.

Then I remembered one of my library days from long ago.

I remember browsing the shelves for the best book. It was a major dilemma during which I always felt somewhat stressed at selecting the "right" book. Of course there was always a mad scramble to check out the book that had been read to us by the librarian that day and for those of us who were too slow to claim that one, we were left to wander what seemed at the time to be endless shelves of books.

I only remember a handful of the titles I selected on library day but what struck me about my memory was not the books I had selected/forgotten but the feeling! The feeling of complete control, of anticipation and power! I GOT TO CHOOSE! It was the one thing, as a child in school, that I had complete control over. This was not just a time filling exercise but a manifestation of my psyche, my mood and intellect. Of course that's not what I thought at the time but reliving that little blip from my past allowed me a new perspective on my life.

That led me to wonder, what is my Library Day now? What events do I enjoy that give me a feeling of control? What events/practices do I choose to participate in because they bring confidence and satisfaction at the outcome?

There are a few things; talking with friends, praying, eating good food, cleaning my house and posting on this blog. (Of course there are more but you only have a minute and I have other things to do.) What I love about each of these things is that they require a choice on my part, an easy choice that bears little consequence to each day but accumulated makes a huge difference in the long run.

And just like my days in elementary school, there are choices (books) I select because they seem easy. Some are chosen because they look good, others are avoided because I'm lazy or scared. In any event, it is entirely up to me.

I want every day to have a Library Day moment in it. An inclusion of some thing or event that I get to choose, with purpose and design, to add a small impact to the accumulation of my life.

Here We Go....Again

Ugh. So after a year of putting off the losing of weight, I am finally forced to confront this wicked nemesis of mine (again). I have recently joined a neighborhood group trying to get fit (who am I kidding? I want to be hot, screw being "fit".) My first few weeks I lost TWO pounds! Woohoo! Okay, so I was less than stellar at my attempt but this month, in honor of the just celebrated Superbowl, we have been divied up into football teams. I am THE DALLAS COWBOYS! My opponent, a cute gal in my neighborhood, is aka THE PITSBURGH STEELERS!

If this had been last year, I could have given a rat's patooty about football but I have become a fan! Yes, I really like football, especially COWBOYS football and I actually know enough about the rules/plays to enjoy it. So, why am I telling you, the blogger sphere about this little endeavor? Well, they say accountability is the first step. I am counting on you ladies (and gents, if there be any) to cheer me on.

I shall keep a chart on site to measure my progress with updates every week. Ugh. You can cheer me on or chew me out depending on the requirements of the outcome for that week. It's up to you.

So thank you super models, for sucking it up for the rest of us. But here's to all you healthy (or aspiring) people out there, may we be one pound closer to bliss (whichever way that takes you).

The Scars of Righteous Battle

I have several scars on my body. I guess after 35 (almost 36) years of life, I've amassed some dings and divots in the skin and on the spirit so I was intrigued by an idea presented to me a few weeks back regarding these marks on all of us. The idea is that we can be reminded of the lessons we've learned from the scars we amass from righteous battle.

No, I'm not talking about wielding a sword and marching onto the field but other, simpler things. I am happy to look at my skin and see the evidence of mother hood, to see the remnants of experiences with friends and to be reminded of physical weaknesses or dangers that had to be removed. No, I wouldn't go around sharing these imperfections with the general public and no, I wouldn't ask to see the blemishes concealed on the bodies of my friends. But the idea that certain scars can remind us of what we know is comforting in a way.

I cannot help but be reminded of the scars of our savior, who after His resurrection, retained the scars from the event that ultimately took His life. Those marks serve to remind us of the importance of obedience, the necessity of faith and the desire for eternal exaltation.

I know that there are some scars that are too painful to recall or examine closely, more often that not I would guess that those scars are etched on the souls housed in the mortal shell God gave us. Each of us bear marks on us that incite many emotions and can be found within and without. I would challenge each of us to look at what we may consider imperfections with a new eye. What do the marks we bear teach us and what have we learned from the experiences that have etched their occasion onto the very medium that will take us through life?