Category: Personal Favorites

My personal favorites

Why I’ve accepted that resistance is futile

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites

My day job has been abnormally stressful over the last several weeks and the last few days – even more so. It happens in the best jobs. There were several times I thought to myself, man, did I ever pick the wrong week to give up comfort food (and wine). Even so, I somehow managed to stick with the diet through the end. I am woman – hear me roar!

After the cleanse diet ended, I expected life to return somewhat to normal. If Lamont brings the kids home that usually means I’m greeted at the door by their smiling faces. Only, on Tuesday, there was only LT. I looked around. Where was Kiddo?

I found him seated in front of the computer with his face mere inches from the screen. That can’t possibly be homework. That’s when I noticed earthy tones and telltale cubic graphics. Minecraft. Someone let Minecraft into my house. The same program whose creator complained about the effect the game has had on his life.

“Mom! Dad got me Minecraft!”

“He did, did he?” I turned to the fountain of generosity which is my loving husband. “Did he at least do something to earn it?”

“Um. No.”

Awesome. Earlier this year, I speculated that Lamont was out to kill me. I’m now wondering if he has a death wish instead.

To be fair, Kiddo has been asking us for the game for months. He’s done everything short of creating a multimedia presentation with handouts documenting why he “needs it”. Even my resolve was cracking. Just days before, I found my cursor hovering over the “Add to Cart” button below the game’s image. It’s almost his birthday, I rationalized. But at the time I was looking to purchase it on any other platform than the computer. Definitely not something connected online. Especially not the computer where I save master files of my books.

It could happen – years of work deleted instantly by Kiddo so that he might free up extra memory for Minecraft YouTube videos. I shuddered.Thank goodness I also use the cloud. Then I remembered hearing that there are people out there making a living from these videos. Maybe I’m not looking at this right. Maybe I could guilt Lamont into taking me to a nice dinner out, or maybe Kiddo will discover a love of coding, make billions, and set us up for life.

I found myself starting thinking this development might not be so bad after all. Then I opened up my email:

Dear Female Human,

Your pitiful efforts to keep us from entering your home were no match for our advanced technology. As you are now aware, we subliminally compelled the one known as Male Human to download the program known as Minecraft the minute your defenses were lowered.

As you read this, we are redirecting your offspring’s attention away from his studies at school. Soon everything he thinks or says will be about Minecraft. We will consume his mind, just as we have done with so many others of his generation. We will drive you and Male Human insane with his obsession.

Your youngest is not beyond our reach. Know that each time he sings his ABCs, he is singing the anthem of our victory over mankind. All hail the mighty Alphabet. There will be none left to lead the resistance. There is no escape. We know where you are. You call it, smart. We are always listening. You call it, convenient. You even pay us for the priviledge.

You lost the war before you knew it even started. But that doesn’t mean things have to get uncomfortable. Accept your fate now and we will make life easy for you. We are good at making life easy.

-Your Robotic Overlords

p.s. please start by replacing your thermostat with the newest Nest model. It is so very slimming.

I looked up from the email to see Kiddo walking by with a trash bag full from the upstairs bins and a smile on his face. It was his way of saying thank you.

I guess a little random generosity isn’t a bad thing. Resistance, as they say, is futile and my Robotic Overlords know I can use the help.

Robotic Overlord

Coffee and Karma

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites

Three am.

I was wide awake. I just couldn’t seem to find a comfortable enough position to sleep more than ten minutes at a time. I tossed and turned. Nothing seemed to work. Time passed during the wee hours of Saturday morning in fits and spurts. After hours which felt like years, I felt the bed shift as hubby got up for a pre-dawn run. Morning people… grumble, grumble…

Slightly after dawn, (I can’t tell you the specific time as the clock and I were no longer speaking, but it was early) I heard the sound of Kiddo moving around in his room across the hall. It didn’t matter if that I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. Morning could no longer be denied. I exited the bedroom with a single mission in mind. Find coffee now.

Immediately Kiddo’s door swung open. “Mom! Mom! I need help!”

“With what?” I asked, although it probably sounded more along the lines of “gah! wha?”

“With my museum. Can you help me build it?”

Available on Amazon
Yup – This pretty much sums up my mornings. Too bad the kids are still learning to read. (Mug available on Amazon – Click to link)

I rubbed my eyes. It didn’t help the view. His LEGOs had turned the floor into a land field, and there, at the other side, was a partially built construction about the size of two loaves of bread. It would take hours to complete his ‘vision’. Run, my body urged me. Run, while there is still time. “Sorry kid, Mommy needs her coffee.”

I made my way downstairs. Kiddo followed. “I’m starving. Cereal please!”

At least he was trying to be polite. “Here you go,” I said, pouring him a bowl. Or did I say bah!?

“Then can you help me with the museum?”

“Mommy needs some time to wake up.” Darn you coffee pot, why are you still empty?

Thump. It was a sound that meant LT was not only up, but jettisoning toys from his bed. I could go upstairs and collect him at once or spend the rest of the day attempting to coordinate a clean-up process with a stubborn three-year-old. It was my decision.

“Milk!” LT greeted me while flinging another animal friend.

Sigh… I  carried him downstairs, placing him near his brother.

“Movie please!” they demanded in stereo. My tummy grumbled, the coffee pot remained dry, and the kids were on a fast track for early naps.

Ding. Ding. My phone chimed. You’ve got to be kidding! Who in the world is texting me at this hour?

“Am bringing home a bagel for you.” The unsolicited text was from the hubby extraordinaire and savior of offspring.

No act of kindness no matter how small is ever wasted – Aesop

I love that man every day, but some days even more so than others. Fortified, Kiddo and I completed his museum. It only took two hours. A new record! Huzzah.

Fast forward a couple of days. I saw another message from the hubby. Someone had placed a handwritten note on his windshield. “You’ve been RAK’d,” it said. Beneath the note lay twenty dollars. There were no strings attached and no name on the note. It was exactly what it said it was. a RAK, also known as a Random Act of Kindness.

Carry out a random act of kindness, with no expectation of reward, safe in the knowledge that one day someone might do the same for you – Princess Diana of Wales

Out of all the cars in the parking lot that morning, some individual had chosen to be generous with my family. We will never be able to pay that person back, so I guess we have no choice. We will have to pay it forward.

Thank you, note-leaver, whoever you are. I hope that your kindness is returned as swiftly as was my hubby’s.

Easy Random Acts of Kindness
background image courtesy of unsplash

Climbing the stairway to heaven

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites

I had been working in Hong Kong for a few weeks when my hubby joined me for a visit. Granted some free time, we decided to go exploring beyond the urban sprawl. I had already had my fill of skyscrapers, wall to wall people, and open air markets. I wanted to go some place quiet, someplace I could hear myself think. Luckily there were a number of options. Considering its association with a large communist state, Hong Kong is remarkably tolerant of religion and has a slew of temples and other houses of worship scattered across its territory. Located on the second largest island is a Buddhist temple that welcomes believers and tourists alike. It seemed like the perfect place for us to go.

big buddha base

The rainy season was threatening to begin at any moment. The skyline was marred with heavy cloud cover. This temple boasted a huge bronze statue high above the tree line, only you couldn’t see any of it from the ground below. From our vantage, the statue might not exist at all. Sure, plenty of people claimed it was there, but that could easily be some prank pulled on unsuspecting tourists. The only thing we could see was a staircase that continued into what seemed like infinity.

My legs hurt just looking at it (they still do), but we hadn’t come all this way to look at a staircase. We had to go up, and up, and up some more (Hong Kong takes their stair building seriously).

view from big buddhaAfter 500 burnt calories or so we were still only half-way up. The clouds hadn’t gotten any thinner either. I had already gotten what I wanted out of this experience. We were relatively alone on this staircase to nowhere. It was so quiet and peaceful at the landing. I was able to hear myself think, but that might not have been a good thing. I started wondering what was the point of getting to the top. We weren’t going to be able to see anything. Why bother? If we turned around now, at least gravity would make the way easier.

I started wondering what was the point of getting to the top. We weren’t going to be able to see anything. Why bother? If we turned around now, at least gravity would make the way easier.

Not party to my inner whiner, my hubby kept on going. Peace and quiet weren’t his goals, he wanted to see the giant statue. Occasionally it is a problem when our goals don’t line up, but this was one of those expectations. I might have another chance to come back on a day with better weather, but it was unlikely he would. It was now or never. I grit my teeth and continued after him. I’d make it to the top for his sake.

big buddha statue Hong KongThe wind picked up as we climbed higher. Suddenly the clouds parted, and there it was. The bronze statue was not one of those fat and happy Buddhas I was used to seeing in American Chinese restaurants. This version was not grinning from ear to ear, made to look like everything was some big joke. Instead, he appeared accepting, calm, and serene though still with a hint of a smile. His hand was raised up in greeting and welcome.

The wind died back down and the clouds rolled back in, but I had seen the statue. I knew it was there and it was closer than I expected. Those final flights of stairs didn’t seem quite as impossible anymore. I could do this.

The news recently has been quite disheartening, to the point that I am tempted to never turn the TV back on again as if that could in some way stop the events from happening. The damage in Nepal, catastrophic, the loss of life, tragic. Where do you even start rebuilding? How can you possibly mourn so many lost? Closer to home, there have been riots against a system that has so many broken parts that it can be fixed only through a massive undertaking. It seems like we are at the bottom of those stairs. We only can hope that if we work hard we may yet find a better future, but there is no guarantee that we will like the results. And yet, turning around is not an option. If we are to find the peace we seek, we must first take the first step.

DSCN5596

It would be nice if I had found my sea legs

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites
Sunset at Lake Norman
Red skies at night, sailors delight. Red skies at morning, sailors take warning

Growing up, my dad would occasionally take us out sailing on a nearby lake. There were days the water was as still as glass and the wind refused to fill the sails. On those days we would bake above deck while the boat inched along at a snail’s pace. We could cool off by hopping in the water, but for the most part, those trips were rather boring. We could have swum just as easily at the shore. Other days, the wind would gust. The boat would heave up and down as well as from side to side. On those days, I would worry that we might capsize at any moment, or that I might lose my lunch.

I was taught to look out at the horizon as a way to combat seasickness.

Seasickness is caused by your brain not being able to find equilibrium due to the motion of the vessel. However as much as you rock from side to side, the horizon remains flat and motionless. It provides your brain with a mental anchor point. By keeping your eyes focused on the distance your body is able to subconsciously anticipate where you will be as the boat moves through the water. This can be the difference between enjoying the ride and turning a lovely shade of green.

Several years ago, I heard a song by a band called the Immaculate Machine entitled “C’mon Sea Legs.” The singer is basically giving himself a pep talk throughout the entire song, begging his legs to adjust to the sway of the boat. I particularly like the refrain:

C’mon sea legs, pull yourself together
you’re gonna have to learn to like the rockin of waves
whatever, c’mon now it’s not meant to be easy
but you’re not gonna spend your life bein’ sick over the side

The past week, I’ve experienced a number of up and downs. I was one of several presenters asked to speak in front of eighty people who had come from various points around the globe. Leading up to the event my stomach twisted. I forgot several lines from my prepared script, but what I did remember hit home. I ended my speech to applause, and several attendees approached me later with their compliments on a job well done.

Then I received my manuscript back from my editor. I wanted his honest assessment, and I got it. To say he thinks it needs some more work is an understatement. Based on his recommendations, I am going to have to re-write a significant portion of it, an undertaking that is daunting. A part of me wants to bury the entire manuscript in a drawer and move on to a new idea. A part of me wants to give up altogether.

We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations. — Charles Swindoll

I have to remember that calm seas are boring, and destinations don’t get any closer without a little wind to help push along the way.

I have to stay above deck and keep my eyes on the horizon. I am going have learn to like the rockin of the waves. I have to accept the lows as well as the highs in pursuit of my dream.

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A night out with my prince

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it, Personal Favorites

It has been more than fifteen years since I went on a date with anyone other than my husband, but Saturday afternoon I found myself looking forward to doing just that.

I made sure to pick out a dress that was sure to please. A combination of slacks and nice blouse just wasn’t going to do. As I came down the stairs, my date was already there and I took satisfaction in the smile that broke across his face.

“Mom! You are a pretty princess!” he exclaimed.

In his next breath, my son amended his comment. “Well, you aren’t green dress pretty (his favorite of my outfits) but you are still pretty.” My son may be quick to praise, but is also great at finding ways to keep me humble.

I was taking my son to see a local live theatre production of Disney’s The Little Mermaid. It was an evening show time, but even so at least a third of the audience was made up of children close to his age and nearly all of them were female. I wasn’t surprised that some changes were made for the stage adaptation, but didn’t expect the that the big climatic sequence at the end would be one of those edits. The prince no longer drove a jagged piece of shipwreck into the sea witch saving the mermaid from certain death. No in this version, the mermaid saves herself as well as the king. The prince is entirely absent from the climax. Only after the witch is defeated and Ariel and her father have heart to heart does the prince reappear. Additionally, in this version the prince spends the majority of the play contemplating abdicating his crown for a life as a sailor, and only accepts his responsibility when Ariel emerges victoriously from the waves with her very muscled father behind her.

I regularly attend networking functions with other working moms and other executive women. Often there are discussion prompts such as ‘what is the one thing you hope to pass on to your daughter’ or ‘what are you doing to empower the next generation of women in the workplace?’ While I appreciate the thought process behind these prompts, they always tend to bother me. Did I in someway betray my gender by only having sons? Is there no place for young boys in a ‘Girl Power!’ world? I refuse to accept this.

I wish more boys had been at the performance. It was a special night out with my son that at least I will remember forever. He held my hand both to and from the theatre. He curled up in my lap during the love songs, and proudly proclaimed to our seat mates how happy he was to be there with me. Other mother/sons missed out on a truly magical bonding experience. Why? Because it was a musical play about a princess.

My sons love their legos, transformers, toy backhoes and front loaders. They love to play in the sand/dirt, fight pretend bad guys, and build things with tools. They are about as stereotypically boys as they come. However my sons also like cooking, painting, and reading. They are just as likely to play with the kitchenette set at day care as they are the train table.

I may not have daughters today, but I may, in the far, far, far, future have a daughter-in-law. For now, I am raising my sons to be just as confident running a household as they are a board room, so that if they do choose to stay home for the betterment of their family they can do so without feeling like their masculinity has in someway been threatened. I am raising them to be respectful of women beyond using proper manners. I am raising them to understand that women can do anything, but at the same time I am making sure that they know they can too. If I am successful, my sons will hire, promote, or feature a woman because she is the most qualified or most deserving, not because she is a woman and certain standards have to be met. That is how I am empowering the next generation. That is the gift I intend to pass on to my future daughter – may she be equal to my son.

 

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