Those who know me really well know that I am very emotional. I cry at the drop of hat, often for reasons that I can't really explain. Often it seems that the situation doesn't warrant my extreme reaction. For example...
Recently I went to see Wicked with my mom and sister. This was my third time seeing Wicked on the stage and probably my bazillionth time hearing the song Defying Gravity. I cry almost every time, if not every time, that I hear that song. I can't control it. I'm listening to the song, singing along and BOOM - my throat starts constricting, my voice cracks and on go the water works.
So, I was sitting in the theatre in Louisville, watching the most outstanding performance of Defying Gravity that I have seen, and the process began - throat constricting, tears flowing. And this time it wasn't pretty. I knew that if I let it out it could very well be a distraction to the people sitting around me, so I tried to control the emotion I was feeling. Suddenly my body could no longer contain the emotion it was feeling and my whole body shuddered and some strange noise emitted from my throat that probably sounded something like a grunt. How embarrassing!!!
As the first act ended and the lights came on, I was grateful to see that Jill had also been crying (I can usually count on her to "get" why something affects me that way that it does). Even so, I felt a little goofy knowing that a song that I've heard so many times nearly made me come completely unglued!
Such unexplained drainages of my tear ducts happen on a regualar basis. Last night I was at the dance studio where my daughter takes ballet. I dropped her off and made my way down the hallway to the waiting room. As I walked by one of the classrooms I noticed a class that was in session. It was a class of preschool aged girls preparing for their upcoming recital. Kneeling next to each little girl, holding a hand up to support her as she twirled, was who I could only assume was her dad. It was by far one of the sweetest things I have ever seen. On went the water works.
A little later, I was invited along with all of the other parents, to go into Becca's class to watch them perform their recital piece. It is a ballet class, and they are doing a sweet little dance to Goodnight My Angel by Billy Joel. Well, at least I know my tear glands are working poperly! Maybe I'd better take a box of Kleenex to the recital and sit in the back by myself!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Another Funny Isak Conversation
I don't know, maybe you have to know Isak to find this funny, but I laughed...a lot. One thing that you have to know is that Isak proclaims, on pretty much a daily basis, that he does not love me.
Last night, at bedtime, Isak came into the living room and asked me, "Will you get me a sippy cup of water to take to bed with me?"
Thinking that I had found an opportunity to trick him into saying that he loves me, I said, "Maybe. Do you love me?"
He thought for a moment, "Ummmmmmmmm......yes."
But then, as I was internally congratulating myself for having extracted his confession of love for me, he said, "Well, not really."
"Oh" I said, "I may not get you a drink then."
And then he spoke the truth that I have so carefully tried to teach my children. "Yes you will, because YOU love me."
In my mind I thought, "Yes. You are right, little dude. Even if you won't tell me that you love me, I will always try to let you know in every way I can that I love you unconditionally - I'm so glad that you are confident in my love for you."
But, so as not to bore him with my long-winded response (remember the "blah blah blah" conversation?) I simply said, "That's true. I DO love you."
To which he replied, "Well, you freak ME out!"
"Well" I said, laughing, "you freak ME out!"
Then came his retort, which caused us both to laugh uncontrollably, "Well, you freak DAD out!"
Oh, so many truths spoken in one short conversation from the mouth of my 5 year-old.
Last night, at bedtime, Isak came into the living room and asked me, "Will you get me a sippy cup of water to take to bed with me?"
Thinking that I had found an opportunity to trick him into saying that he loves me, I said, "Maybe. Do you love me?"
He thought for a moment, "Ummmmmmmmm......yes."
But then, as I was internally congratulating myself for having extracted his confession of love for me, he said, "Well, not really."
"Oh" I said, "I may not get you a drink then."
And then he spoke the truth that I have so carefully tried to teach my children. "Yes you will, because YOU love me."
In my mind I thought, "Yes. You are right, little dude. Even if you won't tell me that you love me, I will always try to let you know in every way I can that I love you unconditionally - I'm so glad that you are confident in my love for you."
But, so as not to bore him with my long-winded response (remember the "blah blah blah" conversation?) I simply said, "That's true. I DO love you."
To which he replied, "Well, you freak ME out!"
"Well" I said, laughing, "you freak ME out!"
Then came his retort, which caused us both to laugh uncontrollably, "Well, you freak DAD out!"
Oh, so many truths spoken in one short conversation from the mouth of my 5 year-old.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I think I'm broken
I know this will come off as seeming very whiney, pathetic and attention seeking. I promise that is not my intention. I'm just feeling a little thoughtful today and have come to the conclusion that I may be broken.
I'm pretty happy, and it's no wonder! I have a wonderful husband who is fun, understanding and supportive. He loves to make me happy, and he does. My kids are healthy, fun-loving and obedient (for the most part). I have extended family members who are a big part of my life. I have a comfortable enough home and lifestyle. I am confident in who I am and in my beliefs and I find a great deal of joy in being a member of my church and all of the opportunites to serve that come with that. Life is busy, fulfilling, and good.
Sometimes, though, I overhear conversations or read things in blogs about things that people do together - friends who spend time together on a regular basis. It makes me blaringly aware that I don't really have many friends. Oh, don't get me wrong. According to Facebook I have almost 400 friends. And there are so many people that I love and who I know love me. I actually feel quite blessed to know so many wonderful people - but what I think I'm missing is that comfortable kind of relationship that comes from knowing things about each other and spending time together.
I've had friends like this in the past. In high school, in college, and as a young single adult I always had at least a small group of friends that I enjoyed doing things with made up of individuals that I spoke to on nearly a daily basis. Many of those people are still a part of my life in a long distance sort of way.
Since I've been married these types of friendships have become fewer and farther between. In the past 11 years I can only think of 2 friends who really fit into this category (and they live too far away now to see on a regualar basis) and maybe 2 or 3 more who kind of come close. I tend to go through my life thinking this is pretty normal. I'm busy keeping up with my family, home and church responsibilities and I figure everyone else is too. But then I hear or read about friends who exercise, go out to lunch, go to the zoo, go to the childrens' museum, take trips together, etc. and I can't help but wonder what I am missing.
Perhaps my perception of myself is way off base. I think of myself as a kind, interested, thoughtful and fun person. I like people. I try to be the kind of person that people will like (you know, I don't put people down or walk around with a frown on my face). I don't think I make it hard to get to know me - I'm pretty much an open book.
Whenever I talk to Jeremy about this he tells me that I should start inviting people to do stuff with me. Let me tell you. I've done it! So many times I've invited someone to do something with me and had a terrific time never to hear from them again. Or we talk about getting together again, but it never works out (and not just because of me) and all the while I'm hearing of things that they are doing with other people.
I'm not necessarily asking for advice here. I know that if I had some fatal flaw that noone would want to be so unkind as to tell me - but honestly, even if it hurt a little, I would probably welcome the answer to my quandry. And if it's something as simple as needing to put on a little more deodorant or eating a mint, by all means, let me know!
The only logical conclusion that I can come to is that I am broken. Maybe we all have some kind of friendship output that lets other people know that we would like to be their friend, or some kind of receptor that lets us know when someone wants to be our friend - and mine are out of order. I don't know. But until I figure it out, I will continue on in joy and gratitude for the meaningful relationships that I do have and hope that someday I can figure out how to fix my friendship malfunction.
I'm pretty happy, and it's no wonder! I have a wonderful husband who is fun, understanding and supportive. He loves to make me happy, and he does. My kids are healthy, fun-loving and obedient (for the most part). I have extended family members who are a big part of my life. I have a comfortable enough home and lifestyle. I am confident in who I am and in my beliefs and I find a great deal of joy in being a member of my church and all of the opportunites to serve that come with that. Life is busy, fulfilling, and good.
Sometimes, though, I overhear conversations or read things in blogs about things that people do together - friends who spend time together on a regular basis. It makes me blaringly aware that I don't really have many friends. Oh, don't get me wrong. According to Facebook I have almost 400 friends. And there are so many people that I love and who I know love me. I actually feel quite blessed to know so many wonderful people - but what I think I'm missing is that comfortable kind of relationship that comes from knowing things about each other and spending time together.
I've had friends like this in the past. In high school, in college, and as a young single adult I always had at least a small group of friends that I enjoyed doing things with made up of individuals that I spoke to on nearly a daily basis. Many of those people are still a part of my life in a long distance sort of way.
Since I've been married these types of friendships have become fewer and farther between. In the past 11 years I can only think of 2 friends who really fit into this category (and they live too far away now to see on a regualar basis) and maybe 2 or 3 more who kind of come close. I tend to go through my life thinking this is pretty normal. I'm busy keeping up with my family, home and church responsibilities and I figure everyone else is too. But then I hear or read about friends who exercise, go out to lunch, go to the zoo, go to the childrens' museum, take trips together, etc. and I can't help but wonder what I am missing.
Perhaps my perception of myself is way off base. I think of myself as a kind, interested, thoughtful and fun person. I like people. I try to be the kind of person that people will like (you know, I don't put people down or walk around with a frown on my face). I don't think I make it hard to get to know me - I'm pretty much an open book.
Whenever I talk to Jeremy about this he tells me that I should start inviting people to do stuff with me. Let me tell you. I've done it! So many times I've invited someone to do something with me and had a terrific time never to hear from them again. Or we talk about getting together again, but it never works out (and not just because of me) and all the while I'm hearing of things that they are doing with other people.
I'm not necessarily asking for advice here. I know that if I had some fatal flaw that noone would want to be so unkind as to tell me - but honestly, even if it hurt a little, I would probably welcome the answer to my quandry. And if it's something as simple as needing to put on a little more deodorant or eating a mint, by all means, let me know!
The only logical conclusion that I can come to is that I am broken. Maybe we all have some kind of friendship output that lets other people know that we would like to be their friend, or some kind of receptor that lets us know when someone wants to be our friend - and mine are out of order. I don't know. But until I figure it out, I will continue on in joy and gratitude for the meaningful relationships that I do have and hope that someday I can figure out how to fix my friendship malfunction.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Blah, blah, blah
Isak has done some extremely cute things lately. He doesn't always intend to be funny, and when he does intend to be funny it always seems to come when I am least expecting it. For example...
Isak thinks that the percentages on food packaging are very important. He believes that if something says 100% that it is good for you. It could say "100% carcinogenic" and he would say, "Hey mom! We should get this. It's 100%!"
Today we were shopping at Wal Mart and he picked up a movie-size box of Whoppers and asked if he could have them. I told them that he could carry them and, if he made good choices while we were at the store, I would buy them. As he carried them, he inspected the packaging and was surprised to find that it said, "25%". He said, "Mom, this says it's 25%, which means that it's a little healthy, right? But it's chocolate, and chocolate isn't healthy."
I looked at the box and saw that it read, "25% less fat", so I explained to him that in this case the percentage didn't indicate that the food was healthy, just that it was less unhealthy than other kinds of candy. When I was done with my explanation, I said, "Does that make sense?" Isak looked at me with a straight face and said, "No, not really. You were talking but all I heard was 'blah, blah, blah'".
I, of course, laughed.
Isak thinks that the percentages on food packaging are very important. He believes that if something says 100% that it is good for you. It could say "100% carcinogenic" and he would say, "Hey mom! We should get this. It's 100%!"
Today we were shopping at Wal Mart and he picked up a movie-size box of Whoppers and asked if he could have them. I told them that he could carry them and, if he made good choices while we were at the store, I would buy them. As he carried them, he inspected the packaging and was surprised to find that it said, "25%". He said, "Mom, this says it's 25%, which means that it's a little healthy, right? But it's chocolate, and chocolate isn't healthy."
I looked at the box and saw that it read, "25% less fat", so I explained to him that in this case the percentage didn't indicate that the food was healthy, just that it was less unhealthy than other kinds of candy. When I was done with my explanation, I said, "Does that make sense?" Isak looked at me with a straight face and said, "No, not really. You were talking but all I heard was 'blah, blah, blah'".
I, of course, laughed.
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