What's the Weekly Special?!?

This morning, after the kids went to the recreational program at the elementary school, my mother accompanied me to do my grocery shopping at the lovely little produce market down the road.  She walks with a cane due to severe osteoarthritis in both knees.  She decided to use the grocery cart as support while we were in the store, so the cane went into the cart.  After we were finished, we dropped by the music store so I could pick up one of the kids' NYSSMA pieces that had arrived.  When I got back to the car, she was upset.  She realized she'd left her cane in the shopping cart.  So we headed back to the market.

When we got there, a man who worked for the store was straightening up a big group of shopping carts and lining them up in front of the entrance.  I asked him if he'd seen the cane.  In broken English, he managed to communicate that he hadn't, but if he had, he would've brought it to the office.  Not especially hopeful, I headed inside to see whether someone else had found the cane and turned it in.  I caught a manager who was stocking shelves, and he said yes indeed, someone had brought the cane to the office.  He asked another manager to unlock the office for me.  As we were walking, she remarked that she tells people all the time that this is the "miracle store."  I looked at her and asked what she meant.  She said that lots of people walk in with canes, and then by the time they walk out, they don't need the canes anymore!   (Turns out that my mother is far from the only person who has been in this situation.)  When I brought my mother her cane, she was thrilled of course, and then we had a good laugh over the "miracle" remark.

That jazzed up an otherwise ordinary Saturday morning!

Mommy, It Hurts

At 12:30am, I awoke to the sounds of Diabetic Man gnashing his teeth and grunting.  I got out of bed and quickly checked to see him with his feet and legs on the living room couch, and his head on the floor.  Luckily, he was facing outward, so it was a convenient position for me to pop a few mini Nestle Crunch bars into his mouth, whenever he opened it to grunt...as long as I steered clear of his arms.  It's very interesting; when the brain doesn't work correctly because of lack of sugar, the patient becomes very combative and wants to pulverize everyone in the immediate vicinity.  Good thing I've done this before.

When hubby started to come out of the episode, he got to his feet and started yelling, "My %$#@ back hurts!"  (Small wonder, right?)  Then he followed up with, "My %$#@ ass hurts!"  No surprise there, either.  While smiling and rolling my eyes upward, I found myself hoping beyond hope that the kids didn't wake up.  Well, when Son #2 came out to greet me this morning, he asked me whether Dad was OK.  I said yeah and asked whether he'd heard him during the night.  A broad grin slowly spread across my son's face as he said, "Yup!"

I Am a Song

My village has a community summit which sponsors, among other events, an annual writing contest.  This year's theme was expressing the feelings that music stirs within us.  I wrote this back in November one evening, after singing the kids to sleep.  I was just notified that it was chosen for the anthology.  It's my pleasure to share it.

I AM A SONG

Sing me when you feel like making music in the air

Sing me when you feel like having something you can share

Sing me when you're happy so everyone can hear

Sing with arms wide open so you'll draw your loved ones near

Sing me when you're sad and it will coax your sadness out

Sing me with a broken heart, rather than cry or shout

Sing me when you're lonely and be soothed by your own voice

Sing me when you're panicked and it will help you make a choice

Sing me when you're proud and bask in your success

Sing me nice and loud and you'll be certain to impress

Sing me every day and make the most of every word

Sing me everywhere you go, and know that you'll be heard.

Para Cantar La Bamba

Son #2 had a classmate come over to play for a couple of hours this afternoon.  They were in the yard playing hockey for a little while, after they shoveled snow off the patio.  Unfortunately Son #1 got whacked in the nose with a hockey stick, but apart from some swelling and a small cut, he's okay.  He plans to tell anyone who asks that he got into a fight with a bull.  (Why he chose a bull, I have no idea.)

After the hockey portion of the program, they all came inside and played Guitar Hero on the Wii.  They took turns singing and playing guitar (drums are broken at the moment).  Our son's friend had the microphone when "La Bamba" came up.  From the beginning, it was obvious that he had no idea what the words were supposed to be, except the refrain.  He sort of mumbled (stumbled) through it, making up nonsense words...which was funny enough.  And he wasn't quite singing.  He was grunting in a way that suggested what Bruce Springsteen would sound like with a bad case of strep throat.  The rest of us were giggling and falling about the room.  Son #1 had to pause the song several times because he was unable to play the guitar.  I had to drop my crocheting to dry my eyes.

Even though they were playing a video game, it was in the spirit of good old fashioned fun.  I hope I remember this every time I hear this song in the future!

We've Now Done Eggplant...

Some people don't really believe I'm half Italian.  Today I cooked eggplant parmigiana for the first time.  Peeled the eggplant, sliced it thin, laid it out on the counter on paper towels and salted each side of each slice liberally.  It really does shed a lot of moisture that way.  I then breaded and baked it.  After turning, I put sauce and cheese on, and broiled a bit to brown the cheese.  This was at hubby's request, since he really digs eggplant.  I never used to, but discovered that if I slice it thin, I don't mind it.  At age 44 I really can learn new tricks.  Whoo-hoo!

Giving

Yesterday was the district wide blood drive.  Son #1 had done his "little physician" homework assignment, and tried to recruit ten donors.  He was excited because his dad and I were both donating, his dad for the first time ever.  For many years, hubby was a medical deferral as far as New York Blood Services was concerned, because he had been taking insulin made from pork and beef.  Now that he is using strictly the genetically engineered insulin products, and his blood sugar is under constant control, he was given the thumbs up to donate.

He had a 4PM appointment and mine was at 5PM, so I anxiously looked for his car when I arrived.  He was still there, having finished but still reclining on the lounge chair bed.  The drive chairperson let me go over to check on him.  They kept him for a little while because he'd felt slightly lightheaded afterwards.  But as I was going through medical, he was being served juice and cookies.  All turned out well.  One neat thing:  I'd never seen platelet donation machines at a mobile blood drive site before, but yesterday there were two.  One of my neighbors was using one when I arrived for my whole blood donation, and we were able to chit chat.  It only took 40 minutes for her to finish...about half the time I thought it would take.

I was feeling fairly tired at tuck-in time, and Son #1 remarked that it seems to take a lot out of me to donate.  I always do sleep like a rock after donating.  But it's so worth it to save the lives.  My cousin's daughter needed many transfusions while she was alive, fighting her fight with cancer, and I continue to have her in mind.  It should be interesting to see whether hubby continues to donate...at least when prodded by one of the children.

One of Many Great Maya Angelou Quotes

"If you don't like something, change it.  If you can't change it, change your attitude."

Snuggle

Our normal tuck-in schtick is that Sons #1 and 2 like to have a song.  We do a lot of sappy vocalists and show tunes.  Last night it was "A Bushel and a Peck" and "If I Could."  Son #3 likes to read a story.  We were about 2/3 finished with his new Bakugan book the night before.  (Bakugan is almost like the next generation Pokemon, at least that's what it seems like to me.)  

Before we got down to reading, I was already feeling the evening chill (which for me is just a bit worse than the daytime chill...I usually feel chilly) so I asked to snuggle first.  He put his arms around me and said, "Oh yeah Mom, it's been a while since we snuggled."  Pause.  "About three hours."  Life is good.

Kvetch Free Zone

Last night I dropped by to visit a friend whom I hadn't seen for Christmas.  She'd been in the hospital prior to that, with an attack of ulcerative colitis.  She also has to contend with chronic back pain, still massive sometimes...in spite of the fact that she had spinal fusion surgery.  She is of slight build, but routinely takes enough heavy duty pain medication to knock out a professional football player.  We were talking about her medical progress, and about side effects of the steroid she's taking to quell the colitis.  At one point we said that it seemed ridiculous to hear people's complaints about the weather, having to get up for work in the morning, sitting in traffic, etc. when compared with situations like this.

On the way home from her house, I had to buzz by the library to find a book for my seventh grader.  I also decided to go into the audio books section because it's been a while since I listened to anything like that in the car (45 minute commute each way is very good for that sort of thing!).  Wouldn't you know it, my eyes came to rest upon A Complaint Free World by Will Bowen.  I started listening to it on the way home, and listened to more of it on the way to work today.  His schtick is that people foul the air with lots of complaints routinely -- a lot more than they realize -- and consequently lots of negativity.  I haven't yet heard what his strategies are for replacing the kvetching with positive thoughts and words, but he talks about the long term action plan for getting out of the complaining habit.  Get a free purple rubber bracelet from http://AComplaintFreeWorld.org and put it on.  Every time you catch yourself complaining, switch the bracelet to the other wrist...even if you have to do this 50 times a day.  The goal is to go 21 days without switching the bracelet...because it's been proven that 21 days is the period of time it takes to internalize a new habit.

I don't know whether I will get a bracelet, but it sounds like it'd be worthwhile to focus on making my behavior more positive.  I tend to be fairly upbeat, I think, but I'm sure I do my share of complaining too.  Yeah, Pollyanna's on the bandwagon for another happy cause.  Suck it up.   :-)    Seriously -- if anyone's tried this, or knows someone who has, I'd love to hear what happened.

Eat Yer Veggies!

Last night we had meatballs for dinner, with some side dishes.  After I'd put all of the food on the table, it occurred to me as I surveyed the entire collection that we had three different vegetables (sweet potatoes, cauliflower, and corn).  That didn't used to happen a year or two ago.  We have become a lot healthier (and lots more creative too) with our meals, in large part due to the pediatrician's insistence that the two older boys adopt a health plan.

In looking back over recent history, I realize that this trend has become a lot more natural, and expected.  On Friday, we went bowling with a bunch of the kids' friends from the neighborhood.  I brought snap peas and cucumbers for the kids to snack on.  For Hanukkah, I made potato latkes and also veggie latkes (zucchini, butternut squash, and yams).  No one cringes when I make spinach croquettes anymore as a side dish with dinner, and in fact Son #3 now enjoys them.  All of this is even nicer since I found a great produce market not too far from the house that has a better, fresher selection at half the price of the large supermarket chain.  

The best part?  No pangs of guilt when serving convenient but starchy dinners.  I still have to take care that I don't mangle my fingers while grating potatoes and other veggies.  Ah well, life is a process.