Bifocals--- Really?

So my last eye exam was two years ago and I was told my vision hadn't changed much, my current script for glasses, which was two years old, was fine. So, naturally I was shocked when I heard the optometrist say that I need bifocals... then he added "well, you're about the right age" REALLY? I'm 42?
So I offered my new standard response that "40 is the new 60." He didn't laugh, he was probably 60, and, he was ugly, but that's not relevant, and perhaps petty on my part, since I was blindsided by the new script... but come on bifocals, really?
I've had them now for six hours, and the only thing that I've noticed so far is that the letters that show up when your change your password on Google, you know that funky curved script on a word that may not be a word, well, they're no longer blurry... I just assumed that they were designed to be blurry. So if those letters and numbers are blurry to you, you might be joining the bi- club.

Ash Wednesday

In the car today, my 7 year old announced that she wished there was a cure for everything. The nine year old agreed and added that people need to work harder to find cures.... and if they would have worked harder for Aunt Eileen, then she wouldn't have died. I let the conversation between them go on for a minute or two before saying that every one worked as hard as they could to try to cure Aunt Eileen, it was just her turn to go to heaven. Her death, and everyone's death, is all part of His plan, and you could be here for 2 years, 28 years, 88, or anywhere in between, but when God calls you home to heaven, its time to go. The 9 year old added that you don't even have to be two, you could go to heaven before you're even born (referring to a friend's miscarriage). Put that way, it seems so simple, I need to think that way more often. I guess it helped that we were on our way to Ash Wednesday service, that moment of grace was quickly replaced when I had to sit in the front row with 5 1st graders who, despite their best efforts, couldn't keep from fidgeting. Then again, as I put the 7 year old to bed, she said " I smiled when they put ashes on my forehead, because I knew that God was happy with me." Thats what I'll think of tonight as I go to sleep.

Belated tooth fairy

my eight year old lost a tooth last night. The tooth Fairy didn't come, which as any parent can surely imagine made for a very difficult morning. Nothing seemed to pacify her, although me saying that I too was mad at the tooth fairy, seemed to be of some consolation. My fear that she would continue to talk about it at school was confirmed when she came home and said that Jessica told her there was no tooth fairy, just like there was no santa 'its just your parents' (ouuuuuch). I told her its not important what others think, what matters is what you believe. Then, I quickly added 'why would I be the tooth fairy, don't I already give you enough money?' That got a laugh, and she's anxiously awaiting the tooth fairy tonight.

Talking in flight

On a recent flight, someone asked me if I was traveling for business or pleasure, the answer was neither, but I said 'business'. In doing so, I wondered how often people casually lied to me? I changed the conversation quickly, asking the woman the nature of her trip, which was pleasure (returning from vacation). It was an easy diversion, and she was happy to talk about her trip to the Keys. Ultimately she asked me what business I was in, and I choked... I said I was in fact a stay at home mom (not a businesswoman), just anxious to get home to my kids. She didn't even seem to care that I'd lied about my agenda. Oh well... I think, in the end, most travelers aren't that interested in the people sitting next to them, they just feel obliged to make small talk and probably secretly hope for brief answers, so they can feel good about being polite, then move on to their Us Magazine.

Message in a box

A thought occurred to me last week that I decided to try. I've been looking for a way to communicate with my niece. She's 10, and spends a lot of her time worrying about her siblings and her dad. I wanted her to have a safe place to worry about herself. So I wrote her a letter and bought a decorative shoebox. In it I placed a notepad and pen. I took her to lunch and read the letter aloud. Essentially saying that this was a way for her to write down her thoughts, important things that happened to her that day, or even things she wished she could tell her mom, or ask her mom. I said that I'd read the letters and their contents would be our secret. I'll check the box each time I go over and leave her notes too. Trying to answer any questions in a way that I think her mom would have... Two days after giving her the box, she'd written one note. I left her one in turn (when she wasn't looking) When I saw her today, she said that she'd gotten my note. She had a big smile on her face. I'm hoping that this is the start of a long line of communication.

Jewels in your crown

In passing, a third grade teacher said to me "you have many jewels in your crown, my dear." I responded that she had no idea how much I needed to hear that. Of course, she didn't hear my response, because I kept walking, holding my nephew's hand and holding back the tears. It was one of those afternoons where another comment had just put me over the edge, so God must have sent this one to balance it out. No less then 5 minutes prior to hearing her words, I'd been told that I couldn't pick up my nephew because I was not authorized to do so, they had to call 'the dad'. I wasn't mad at the process, but the reality that someone could tell me that I wasn't allowed to pick up my sister's kids. For two years, everyone at the school knew, for two years, there were never any questions asked... well now its been two years, and the ones that lived it with us have moved on. They remember, sure, but they, understandably, have their own lives. I've moved on too, in many ways. But no amount of exercise, volunteerism, parenting, etc, will fill the void that was created when my sister died. I think that what I realized most recently is that the more I do to get my own life back on track, the more I want to do for my sister's kids and her husband. The best I can do is pray for that he wants to do likewise for himself. I guess its a whole lot of prayers combined with daily perseverance that earns those jewels, but I'd trade them all to get my sister back. I certainly hope that she's enjoying the jewels of heaven now.

Chicago- from a new perspective

A.)Catching a cheap flight to Chicago for the weekend, riding the L to Wrigley field, crashing on a couch in a college friend's apartment, drinking my face off and finding the best local hangout for a satisfying breakfast with enough grease to curb the hangover.

B.)Driving to Chicago, checking into a hotel with suitcase in one hand and the other alternating between two kids, picking a restaurant based on proximity and its kid's menu, going to American Girl doll store (2xs), Millennium Park and Navy Pier.

I've experienced both of the above scenarios, one this past weekend... the other seems like a lifetime ago. I must say that both were a lot of fun. And I must admit, I was proud of myself for having yogurt w/granola after a 30 min run in the morning, instead of the greasy breakfast I used to crave on my visits to the windy city 15 years ago.

I'm glad that life has afforded me the opportunity to see Chicago from two perspectives. And some day, I'll go back and perhaps drink with my grown kids and enjoy breakfast at a diner in Lincoln Park, laughing about how silly we'd all been the night before... I'd actually like nothing better then that :>