Saturday, January 21, 2012

As They Should Be

And, Charlie ran outside, just like any other morning, 
     only to find himself sliding across the frozen tundra that had become our backyard.
     "What IS this?" he wondered (the way dogs wonder about things).  
He pounced on the white, slick stuff, and went sliding again; 
     his gray-white coat blending in with the wintery landscape.  
     "I'm not sure I like this, " he barked ( and barked, and barked ).
And, ran back inside, where things were as they should be.    

Friday, January 20, 2012

Milk, Bread, and T.P., Too

( To the tune of "It's Raining, It's Pouring" ) 

It’s SNOW-ing, it’s SNOW-ing,

The OLD man is GOing

     TO the store for MILK and bread
     And T.P., too ( to USE the head),
     Slipped ON some ice and BUMPED his head,
     And WENT inside and WENT to bed,
     Woke UP and it was ALL mel-ted,
     But, at LEAST he has his MILK and bread,
     And T.P., too ( to use the head ), 
     Cuz if he DIDN'T then he MIGHT be dead . . . . . .


ALL because it’s SNOW-ing.    

Driving Class

It was a rainy day, and for many a preschooler ( and teacher ),
     this means "indoor recess".

Or, what I now refer to as "Driving Class".  

For, when it is too cold or wet outside,
     we take a trip down the long hallway, trimmed in colorful artwork, 
into a large, open room filled with tricycles and scooters,
     as well as bright orange cones for the children to maneuver around 
until their hearts' content.  

As I stood and watched my little preschoolers drive around in circles,
     I found humor in the realization that watching them handle their tricycles
was much like being out in "real" traffic.

There was "Sunday Driver Suzie":

     She was in absolutely NO hurry, driving slowly and carefully around the cones, 
     taking time to notice EVERYTHING around her, 
     but not letting it distract her from driving in a SLOW straight  line.  
     AND, not allowing ANYONE to make her feel rushed. 

And, "Steady Eddie".

     He was driving at a very consistent speed ( not too slow, not too fast ),
     ALWAYS looking ahead ( not side to side ) and ALWAYS staying in a straight line.  

Also, "Speedy Petey":

     Like a race car driver, he was ZIPPING around the track, weaving in and out of traffic,
     not slowing down for ANYONE or ANYTHING,
     and ACTUALLY doing a pretty darn good job of it.   

And, "He Should Never Have a Cell Phone Sam":

     He noticed EVERYthing around him, pointing his "trike" in the same direction as his attention,
     going on and off the course, running into other tricycles and cones. 

And, of course, "Rule Breaker Bob":

     He was PURPOSELY driving outside of the cones and against the traffic,
     causing all KINDS of trouble, making all of the other drivers mad at him,
     and THOROUGHLY enjoying himself, in the process.    

And, "Traffic Cop Tammy":

     Telling EVERYONE ELSE what they SHOULD be doing or what they AREN'T doing right,
     to the point of parking her tricycle in an INCONVENIENT spot, and standing up in traffic,
     causing a traffic jam.   

And, then there was  "Public Transit Paul":

     He stood safely outside of the cones, and while he considered getting on a tricycle,
     watched everyone else drive around like maniacs, and with a concerned look on his face,
     decided to just . . . watch.    


Which one are you ? ? ? 

( The names have been changed to protect the innocent. )

Saturday, January 14, 2012


Soccer, latte,
     a comfy place to sit.

Road trip, friendship,
     a place to "shoot the shit".

A nap and some exercise,
     a movie on tv,

A nice hot shower -
     OH, what a luxury!

Dinner with my parents
     and my awesome kids, three. 

Wine and chocolate -
     how much better can it be?

And now for some football,
     as I wind down my day

I think I celebrated "ME"
     in a pretty good way ! 

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

My Heroes

I was shopping at Whole Foods, the other day,
     and when I moved my small cart over to allow room for a wide load of produce to pass through,
I knocked over some strategically placed plastic containers full of nuts.

Before I even realized what had happened,
     a cute little, happy-faced boy (about 10 years old)
appeared out of nowhere,
     and without saying a word,
began to pick the containers up and put them back on the shelf.  

Not far behind him, a darling little girl (about the same age) came over to help,
     as if she wanted "in" on the fun.   

     "How kind of you!  Thank you!" I said, as the three of us cleaned up together. 

Just then, I heard a mother's voice calling over.

     "What are you two up to?" she asked.

     "Did you ask them to help me?" I asked.

     "No," she said, with laughter.  "I was just wondering where they disappeared to!"

     "WOW," I said.  

And, after praising the two "do-gooders" and their mother,
     I just stood there . . . . . . STUNNED. 

I think I just met my heroes, I thought. 


Monday, January 9, 2012

Unmarked Path

I wouldn't say that we were LOST, exactly, 
but things did not look familiar.  

As a kid, I used to ride this path on my bike all the time.
Like breathing, I did it without thinking.
But, things looked different now.
And, we carried with us our over-thinking, adult minds.

My friend, who had never been on this path before, was the first to speak up.   

      "I don't think we are going the right way," he said. 

      "This path only GOES one way," I assured him.    

But, as we approached a fork in the trail,
     it was clear to us both that the path went in MORE than one direction.    
We agreed to take the path on the left (my dog, Charlie, following behind),
which seemed to be the right choice, until it appeared
that the path was leading us right into the middle of SUBURBIA.     

Suddenly, we were surrounded by TOWNHOUSES.

     "NOW, what?" I spoke through my laughter.  

We asked a passersby if the path reconnected somewhere else.

     "Walk to the top of the hill, pass the elementary school on your left,
          go down the hill, and you will see an opening
        where there is a continuation of the path," he assured us.

This was definitely NOT how I remembered 
this trail. 

We continued to the TOP of the hill, PASSED the elementary school,
walked DOWN the hill,
until we, INDEED, discovered a path.   

It seemed a little odd, however, that the path was not marked . . . but we decided to follow it, anyways.

As we walked along the backside of some houses,
     past a children's playground, and into the woods,
the path became increasingly narrow,
until there was NO EXISTING PATH LEFT, AT ALL.
And, eventually, we found ourselves standing on a hillside,
     enveloped by nothing but trees, as far as the eyes could see.  

Looking up, we could identify the chain link fence
     that lined the entire park property.

Looking down, we could see the creek that flowed into the lake,
     where our journey had begun.

Using both as our trail markers, we continued to walk along -
     now dense, into the forest, stepping over and under, and in between branches,
when suddenly, we found ourselves impinging upon a group of grazing deer.

Clearly startled by the sight of humans, 
I couldn't help but laugh at their expressions. 

Deer:  Stupid humans.

After giving us a good stare down, the deer quickly moved on,
     in search of a more private party. 
In the meantime, we found a break in the fence from a fallen tree,
     where we decided to cross over,
discovering more SUBURBIA on the other side.
We walked along a row of houses, until the road came to an end,
     along with a sign that read:

For residence use only. 
This is not a park entrance.

Which, of course, meant:

This is a park entrance
that only residents are supposed to use,
except in rare cases when dumb asses 
take a wrong turn and get lost.     

My friend decided to go straight up the hill, pulling Charlie behind,
      BOTH on all fours,  using random branches and weeds to help pull their way up.
I, on the other hand, looked over to the left, and saw a long,
     gradual path leading up the side of the hill,
and decided that was the more appealing route.

We met at the top of the hill 
and dusted ourselves off,
then, merged in with the other walkers, bikers, and joggers along the path,
as if we had never been off course.

No, I wouldn't say that we were lost, exactly.

We just took the path less traveled (for a little while),
     and turned a normal afternoon into an adventure.



Friday, January 6, 2012

Through the Eyes of a Preschooler - The Rules of Life

It was the end of the day.

Wide-eyed, with anticipation, they lined up to wait for that comfortingly
     familiar face to show up at the door,
and for one of their teachers to acknowledge
their names for dismissal.   

     "Tommy, your mom is here!"

      "Annabelle, it's time to go!"

As the teachers called off their names, one by one,
     Ian stood patiently on his designated spot,
his school bag in one hand, and bundled up in his winter coat. 

     "Max, I see your dad!"

     "Your turn, Carlos!"  

Just then, Elise left her spot in line and ran enthusiastically out into the hallway,
     RIGHT into the arms of her smiling grandma.

Her grandma LAUGHED  a joyful laugh, and the teachers laughed, too, in response.

Elise was SO excited to see her, that she just could not wait another SECOND!   

Observing all of this, Ian turned to one of his teachers,
     and with a very serious look on his face, said,

     "I don't think that's funny."

     "Why don't you think it's funny, Ian?" asked his teacher.

     "Because she was supposed to wait," he said.
               "She did not wait for the teacher to call her name."

Ian's teacher smiled, and thought to herself,
      "He's a rule follower.  I have one of those at home."

      "You are right, Ian," she said,
          "But, sometimes, especially if you aren't hurting anyone, it's ok."

The teacher paused . . .

     "And, I really do appreciate how nicely you are waiting 
                                         for your name to be called."  

Ian's expression did not change, and he stood on his spot until the teacher called his name.

Life can be very confusing to a preschooler, sometimes.  

Thursday, January 5, 2012


It's no wonder why I get so bored with the human race, sometimes,
     for we are such a predictable, habitual  bunch.
Here we are, in the month of January,
     and all of the news programs ( morning, day, and night),
as well as social network sites,
     keep uttering and posting the same three letter phrase:


Not only that, but we are so accustomed to having immediate results,
     that only the second week in

there is already talk of . . . . . .

"New Year's Resolutions, BROKEN.  
Is it TOO LATE ? ? ?" 

And, in the meantime,
     all of these moments are passing us by
where we do SIMPLE and WONDERFUL and MEANINGFUL things
     without taking notice or giving ourselves credit
because, somehow,
we do not see them as anything . . . . . . extraordinary !!!  

Henry Moore (1898-1986), English sculptor and artist seemed to have it right, when he said,    

                     I think in terms of the day's resolutions, not the year's.  

For, it IS the little things that we do every day 
     that absolutely are . . . . . . 


Think about what you have done . . . . . . 




Monday, January 2, 2012


January 1, 2012

I stayed in bed, lingering under the soft, cool sheets
     and warm blanket (a million comfy pillows under my head),
until I felt like the moment was right to get up.   

And, when I did . . . . . .  the house was quiet.  

Quiet in a good way.   

I slid my feet into my favorite cozy slippers, waiting faithfully on the floor.

And, Charlie was looking at me with his bright, hazel eyes and wagging tail,
     in anticipation of his morning visit with the outside world.  

Downstairs, the "not quite" teenage boys were plugged into their
     game ( predictably so ), surrounded by their own pillows and blankets -
their makeshift beds, from the night before.
     "Good morning!" I said, as I released Charlie into the backyard.    

The temperature outside was unseasonably warm and pleasant.        

     "What would you like for breakfast?" I asked.   

      "Pancakes and bacon? ? !"  with eager eyes, they expressed.   

And the day was ours, so I was happy to oblige.

The sun was shining brightly through the window, above the kitchen sink,
     where my Grandma's porcelain bluebird sits.  

I took the bluebird down, and placed it on the counter,
     and opened up the window . . . . . . just enough.

Enough to allow the fresh air to breathe into the room,
     adding life to the closed up space.

     "Now, for some music, " I thought.

And, I searched around for what I thought would satisfy my mood -
     the Brazilian sounds of the guitar, acoustic.   

Breakfast was made, and the table was set,
               and someone very nice made me coffee.

We all gathered around, enjoying our meal.

Faces smiling, and filled with laughter.  

We shared stories about before; and discussed plans for after. 

Like all of the possibilities for "today", for what a beautiful day it was. 

     Go to the zoo, maybe?

     A walk or bike ride?

     Kickball or ice-skating?

     Or, maybe some soccer.

The day was ours . . . . . . and what a feeling that was.

And, later that morning, standing there in my pajamas,
     my uncombed hair, no make-up and wearing glasses . . . . . .

     "You have no idea how good you look, do you."

I shook my head and smiled, knowing that he meant it.

The day was ours . . . . . . and what a feeling that was.