Don't pass it up, pick it up...

Throughout my childhood, my mother used to annoy me with a little chant that she'd burst into.... "Don't pass it up, pick it up, and put it up!"  (She was a cheerleader in her pre-motherhood life, can't you tell?)    I think she got tired of all the "stuff" laying around the house, sitting on the staircase, hiding in closets.  As an annoyed teenager, I'd huff-and-puff and whine and finally pick up my things and carry them up the stairs to my room where they would promptly go on the floor.  At least once a week, she would venture into the chaos and clutter of my private quarters where she would burst into another of her special verses, "Anything left on the floor will be confiscated forever!"  (This one was sometimes put to her own made-up musical chorus, usually sung out of tune in an annoying mom way.)

Well, as we've read in previous posts, I've grown up.  And, guess what?  I've become my mother.   I can't stand the clutter frequently sitting around the living areas of my home!  While my son has not yet reached the teenage years when I'm sure we will both drive each other insane, he IS at the five-year-old and I don't want to pick up my toys stage.   I usually just poke and prod at him until he helps me throw toys into miscellaneous bins and boxes stashed about our home.  Since he is reading on his own now, though, we worked together to come up with names for each of his storage containers.   I'm now convinced that because he CAN read them on his own that he will start putting his toys away by himself since each precious Batman, lego car, and Wii cartridge has its own special place. 

While some may think that this re-organization of the playroom is just part of my master plan to spend more money at Pottery Barn Kids and Target, (c'mon, those monogrammed baskets and buckets are too cute to pass up!)  I really am hoping to instill a sense of order to the chaos and teach some valuable habits.  I'll do just about anything to avoid singing the "Don't pass it up, pick it up" song that I can almost hear happening a few years from now...in that same annoying out-of-tune mom way!

The result of our playroom "makeover" truly makes me smile on this Memorial Day! 

Ramona Grows Up

I have one sister whom I love very much, but who I’ve also tried to give up for adoption for much of her life.   The story begins a few days after she was born when I asked my mother, “When is that baby going to live in someone else’s house?”    And, thus, the sibling torture began... 

There is an old joke in our family (or maybe just in my mind) that my sister was like the Beverly Clearly character “Ramona the Pest” when we were growing up.  In fact…and here comes something not very nice about me… I actually called her “Ramona” for much of her childhood.   (She’s fine with it now; years of therapy have helped.)  In the last few years, though, she’s stopped being the 6-year-old, annoying little sister of my childhood memories, and has transformed in my view into a real, grown-up woman who is wildly successful in her profession and an amazing human being.    The irony here to me, is that while she has grown in a lot of ways, maybe it’s really my own growing up - letting go of those childhood memories of her and seeing her for the woman she has become.   

My sister and I are now working professionally together again, which is quite a treat!  I’m learning so much about her, seeing her from other’s perspectives, and watching the relationships she has developed with people I have admired for a long time.    ( I still sneak in an “I taught her everything she knows” comment!)

People DO grow up and become the people they were meant to me.   I’m thankful that “Ramona” has forgiven me for tormenting her during her childhood and is now allowing me to be part of her professional world, where she shines each day.   

And that makes me smile.

5 Years From Now

“Will this matter in 5 years?”

My friend Camie asked me this back in January.  We were having lunch together and were both trying to separate important life from daily drama.  It’s now become something that I try to ask myself when I can feel my tension level increasing and can tell that I’m getting “my tail feathers ruffled ” (a colorful expression passed down from the Southern women in my family; similar to “getting my panties in a wad”).

I have had a few frowns lately:

-  I spent an entire week at the beach and never had an umbrella in any of my cocktails. (see previous post)

-  Dog vomit.

-  Being the lady in the airport who overloaded one bag to the point that I had to stand at the check-in counter, repacking the bags because the airline wouldn’t take them the way they were.

- Two friends who have bought wigs in the last month to prepare for the effects of their upcoming chemotherapy treatments.

-  Forcing my mother and friend Emily to endure one of my rants on how tired I am of using and hearing the word “busy”.

As you can see, only 1 of the above will matter in the next 5 years.  And, it will matter because those two amazingly strong friends will have beaten their battles against the ugly C-word and will be living renewed lives. 

I’m going to keep asking myself the 5 year question.  It is really helpful in keeping things in perspective and eliminating some daily drama.   

And the near impossibility of me eliminating the word “busy” from my vocabulary makes me smile.

Island Memories

I took last week off from real life (smile) and headed to the British Virgin Islands with my family (smile).  Seven glorious days of no cell phone, limited email, and no responsibilities, other than to feed my son a few times a day (smile).   Getting away is really important to me.  With a family schedule sometimes dominated by a corporate calendar, taking a few days each year for time to stand still and create special memories for my son is of the utmost importance to me (smile).   His sweet and precious childhood is going by so quickly (frown). 

We had been reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in the week leading up to our trip.  The first night, after dinner, we went back to watch the original movie version with Gene Wilder.  It was one of those moments that I’ll always remember (smile)…watching my son enjoy the movie and listening to him comment when something from the movie was different from the book.  

The photo below is another special moment.  My son has a quiet, reflective side.  He was intensely studying some coral in the water our first morning on the beach and I snapped this photo.  I love it, but am completely incapable of expressing the reasons why.  I just know that everytime I see it, I smile. 

There were more special moments during our trip that I know are locked away in my memories, and hopefully, in my son’s as well.     And that makes me smile. 

P.S.-  Just so you don’t think everything was sunny and roses on my trip.  There was a major frown.  None of my drinks came with an umbrella.  Isn’t that some sort of crime when you are on an island?!?!