My shower had been draining slowly for months and yesterday it just got on my last nerve. The last time this happened I called a plumber to come snake it out. He ended up not even charging me for it because he said that he only had to clean out from right under the drain cover and it took two seconds. So, this time, I unscrewed the drain cover and pulled out a big clog of gross and ran the water to see if that did the trick.
It was still running slowly. Shoot. I dug around in there with my finger and then the screw driver when my finger wouldn't reach. I poured in some baking soda and vinegar to try and fizz it out and finally added something called Drain Maid, which is some kind of organic-keep-your-drain-running-free stuff. Then I waited.
After a while I went to take a shower. The water was moving better than it had been, I noticed with satisfaction. About half way through my shower the water really started moving. "Wow!" I thought, "Yes! I did it! Man, look at my skills." I lathered up my legs with joy.
About two minutes later I heard a big commotion. "Ergh, now what?"
"Mom! Mom!" I heard the thunder of feet on the stairs.
"Can't I have just one peaceful shower?" I grumbled in my head.
"Turnofftheshower! Turunofftheshower!" The bathroom door slammed open and my four foot high herald burst in. "Mom! Turn off the shower!"
That's when I could hear the other kids yelling from downstairs, "It's raining in the house! Water is coming out of the ceiling! Mom! Turn off the shower!"
I grabbed a towel and rushed downstairs to the kitchen. (This might be a good time for a quick aside to thank Russ for "forcing" me to buy extra large bath towels a year ago. "Honey, you're the best. I will never doubt your need for newer, bigger, better.") There stood my older two children, and a neighbor girl. And water was indeed running out of the ceiling.
"My hand is wet!" the neighbor girl said.
"I think more than just my hand is wet," I said with a laugh. I find making jokes keeps me calm and from lashing out at innocent bystanders in a stressful situation. I probably should have remembered that later in the evening when I was pulling down chunks of ceiling and trying to catch the water so it wouldn't just drip in any old random place.
This morning our new best friend Jim came in and confirmed what we all suspected. In my drain cleaning efforts I had punched a hole in the drainpipe. Granted it was corroded and soft and all that, but still I did it. That sounds a whole lot different from "I did it!" doesn't it?
Ah, perspective.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
I Might Be Magic
Seriously. I'm starting to think I might have magic powers. The thought has been growing for awhile, but today, wow! Wait, let me back up.
Russ, my husband, is type 1 diabetic. He's a lot of other things too, but they don't really enter into this story; I just think it's important that you know he's more than just his diabetes. Right. So, because he's diabetic, he has a lot paraphernalia, and it goes everywhere he goes. Some of it's easy to keep track of, like the insulin pump, after all it's attached. Some things are much harder to keep track of, like the blood sugar kit. If you've never seen one, it's about the size and shape of woman's wallet, or a kid's DS- whichever picture works for you. That means it's small enough to easily misplace, but it seems like it should be large enough to make it also easy to locate. So one would think.
Russ does not believe in the "man bag" per se, but he does take a backpack loaded with all the things he might need (wallet, keys, reading material, drugs, BLOOD SUGAR KIT) with him on many occasions. When he doesn't have the backpack, he has a briefcase. Now, the man is the Director of Operations for an entire region of the YMCA, he is not dumb, nor is he unorganized. In fact, he's much more organized than I am. However. He can search that backpack two or three times and not locate that blood sugar kit. When that happens, especially if the blood sugar is already dropping, muttering and frustration begin and so I offer to look for the kit.
As I pick up the backpack to search, he says, "I already looked in there! It's not..."
"Here?" I say as I pull out the blood sugar kit.
Do you know how many times this has happened? Me either; I've lost count. I can also find the blood sugar kit on a previously searched desk or counter. I have also found a camera that was "Absolutely NOT" in the back pack that had been "searched, like five times already!" See? magic powers.
Today though, whew! I was on fire.
Russ and I also have three children. Mostly they take after me, but in this way, they take after their father. They cannot find anything. The youngest beauty has been searching for her bathing suit for a week. No one has looked too hard for it though because she could just wear her old one. Yesterday when her right butt cheek was hanging out of the suit, however, it was time to throw it away and get serious about finding the new suit. I didn't really enter into the hunt because A) I was busy and B) I was annoyed that there had to be a hunt at all. The suit was not found before it was time to go to friends' for swimming, so shorts and a t-shirt were taken.
Fast forward to 10:00 pm tonight when we return home from the friends. As I was tucking the girls into their loft beds I said, "Tomorrow we have to get serious about finding that suit."
"I don't know where else to look!" Not-Bathing Beauty wailed.
"Well, we'll figure that out in the morning," I said, and then glancing- GLANCING, I TELL YOU- at the closet, whose top shelf I could see clearly from my loft vantage point, I pointed and said, "There it is. Right there."
Yes, that's right, I put two seconds effort into looking for the suit that has been lost for a week and, boom, there it is.
Magic Powers. What else could explain it?
Russ, my husband, is type 1 diabetic. He's a lot of other things too, but they don't really enter into this story; I just think it's important that you know he's more than just his diabetes. Right. So, because he's diabetic, he has a lot paraphernalia, and it goes everywhere he goes. Some of it's easy to keep track of, like the insulin pump, after all it's attached. Some things are much harder to keep track of, like the blood sugar kit. If you've never seen one, it's about the size and shape of woman's wallet, or a kid's DS- whichever picture works for you. That means it's small enough to easily misplace, but it seems like it should be large enough to make it also easy to locate. So one would think.
Russ does not believe in the "man bag" per se, but he does take a backpack loaded with all the things he might need (wallet, keys, reading material, drugs, BLOOD SUGAR KIT) with him on many occasions. When he doesn't have the backpack, he has a briefcase. Now, the man is the Director of Operations for an entire region of the YMCA, he is not dumb, nor is he unorganized. In fact, he's much more organized than I am. However. He can search that backpack two or three times and not locate that blood sugar kit. When that happens, especially if the blood sugar is already dropping, muttering and frustration begin and so I offer to look for the kit.
As I pick up the backpack to search, he says, "I already looked in there! It's not..."
"Here?" I say as I pull out the blood sugar kit.
Do you know how many times this has happened? Me either; I've lost count. I can also find the blood sugar kit on a previously searched desk or counter. I have also found a camera that was "Absolutely NOT" in the back pack that had been "searched, like five times already!" See? magic powers.
Today though, whew! I was on fire.
Russ and I also have three children. Mostly they take after me, but in this way, they take after their father. They cannot find anything. The youngest beauty has been searching for her bathing suit for a week. No one has looked too hard for it though because she could just wear her old one. Yesterday when her right butt cheek was hanging out of the suit, however, it was time to throw it away and get serious about finding the new suit. I didn't really enter into the hunt because A) I was busy and B) I was annoyed that there had to be a hunt at all. The suit was not found before it was time to go to friends' for swimming, so shorts and a t-shirt were taken.
Fast forward to 10:00 pm tonight when we return home from the friends. As I was tucking the girls into their loft beds I said, "Tomorrow we have to get serious about finding that suit."
"I don't know where else to look!" Not-Bathing Beauty wailed.
"Well, we'll figure that out in the morning," I said, and then glancing- GLANCING, I TELL YOU- at the closet, whose top shelf I could see clearly from my loft vantage point, I pointed and said, "There it is. Right there."
Yes, that's right, I put two seconds effort into looking for the suit that has been lost for a week and, boom, there it is.
Magic Powers. What else could explain it?
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Summer Camp
As anyone who knows me already knows, I was a camp counselor for three summers from 1989-1991. I loved that job, except when I thought I was going to die from over work, poor nutrition or bedbug bites. It was the kind of summer job that changes your life, no kiddin', no literary hyperbole. There's just no way to describe the camp counselor experience that hasn't already been tried.
I can still see the prints of people I met and things we experienced on who I am today. I credit that experience with my firm belief in social justice and green awareness. I also learned that I do NOT want to be in charge of other adults ever again. Leave me with the kids. I learned to persevere through physical and emotional exhaustion and how to feel great when I hadn't had a shower in too many days to count.
It's not just the lessons learned that are still with me, many of my relationships from those are still at the center of my life. My husband and I worked at that camp together. As did the best man at our wedding and half the brides maids. I got my sister to come work with me for one summer, and when I student taught in England, I went to find the English counselors I had met at camp. It was at camp that I learned how to be friends with other girls. That's a skill I tell ya.
It all sounds so romantic doesn't it? Ah, wouldn't you love your kid to have such a transition to adulthood. Yeah. It was also the craziest time of my life. I cannot believe the trouble that my friends and I got into- and survived! I did some of the most horrible decision making I have ever done, or hopefully will ever do. I'm not a huge fan of my kids getting details of that time in my life yet, so I'll leave it at that for now. A perfect, or perhaps even good, role model I was not.
The thing is, now my own kids are going off to camp and somehow I don't think camp counselors are making any better decisions than we did. I know what all we did, and can guess what the new crop is doing, and I'm choosing to send my kids anyway. I loved camp as a kid and I sure don't want my own kids to miss out. I also think that in a few more years my own children will be the camp counselors and will be just about as wise as those who came before them. And I hope they laugh, cry, win, lose, struggle and thrive just as much as we did.
I can still see the prints of people I met and things we experienced on who I am today. I credit that experience with my firm belief in social justice and green awareness. I also learned that I do NOT want to be in charge of other adults ever again. Leave me with the kids. I learned to persevere through physical and emotional exhaustion and how to feel great when I hadn't had a shower in too many days to count.
It's not just the lessons learned that are still with me, many of my relationships from those are still at the center of my life. My husband and I worked at that camp together. As did the best man at our wedding and half the brides maids. I got my sister to come work with me for one summer, and when I student taught in England, I went to find the English counselors I had met at camp. It was at camp that I learned how to be friends with other girls. That's a skill I tell ya.
It all sounds so romantic doesn't it? Ah, wouldn't you love your kid to have such a transition to adulthood. Yeah. It was also the craziest time of my life. I cannot believe the trouble that my friends and I got into- and survived! I did some of the most horrible decision making I have ever done, or hopefully will ever do. I'm not a huge fan of my kids getting details of that time in my life yet, so I'll leave it at that for now. A perfect, or perhaps even good, role model I was not.
The thing is, now my own kids are going off to camp and somehow I don't think camp counselors are making any better decisions than we did. I know what all we did, and can guess what the new crop is doing, and I'm choosing to send my kids anyway. I loved camp as a kid and I sure don't want my own kids to miss out. I also think that in a few more years my own children will be the camp counselors and will be just about as wise as those who came before them. And I hope they laugh, cry, win, lose, struggle and thrive just as much as we did.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Fear
"...I will fear no evil, for my God is with me..." (Psalm 23)
"Perfect love drives out fear." (1 John 4)
I think there has been a deep, even twisted, misunderstanding or use of that first verse throughout Christian history. I think deep in their hearts people understand the first bit to mean that God will help them conquer whatever it is they're afraid of. Not conquer the fear, conquer The Thing. Sometimes that Thing is an enemy of some sort and there ends up being all kinds of bloodshed, real and metaphorical. Sometimes The Thing we fear is loss of control that we never had anyway, and we end up destroying our world, or relationships, or our own real selves. No one stops being afraid of The Thing, they just believe they can conquer The Thing, and all the while they're fighting The Thing, they actually hold tightly to the fear and use it to fuel the fight.
Perfect love drives out fear, and The Thing that was feared can continue to be or not be. It no longer matters. If you, a person, are living in perfect love, you don't need to fight The Thing. You are safe. Perfect love drives out fear because it gives you life that continually renews, heals and lifts you up.
"Perfect love drives out fear." (1 John 4)
I think there has been a deep, even twisted, misunderstanding or use of that first verse throughout Christian history. I think deep in their hearts people understand the first bit to mean that God will help them conquer whatever it is they're afraid of. Not conquer the fear, conquer The Thing. Sometimes that Thing is an enemy of some sort and there ends up being all kinds of bloodshed, real and metaphorical. Sometimes The Thing we fear is loss of control that we never had anyway, and we end up destroying our world, or relationships, or our own real selves. No one stops being afraid of The Thing, they just believe they can conquer The Thing, and all the while they're fighting The Thing, they actually hold tightly to the fear and use it to fuel the fight.
Perfect love drives out fear, and The Thing that was feared can continue to be or not be. It no longer matters. If you, a person, are living in perfect love, you don't need to fight The Thing. You are safe. Perfect love drives out fear because it gives you life that continually renews, heals and lifts you up.
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