I realize that most of my posts about kindness involve grocery shopping. Perhaps something about the brightly lighted displays and fresh flowers of a grocery store puts people in a cheerful, cooperative, and helpful mood. Or maybe it's just that most of my interaction with the outside world happens at grocery stores. Also, it is likely that a grocery shopping trip is the time when a very pregnant mother of two young children appears to need the most help. But, whatever the reason, I find people to be very kind when I am grocery shopping.
This week I had a very short shopping list, so we made it through the store pretty quickly. The store wasn't very busy, but there was only one cashier, so the line was quite long. When it was our turn to check out, my three year old decided to help load the groceries onto the conveyor belt. He grabbed a gallon of milk and dropped it. The carton broke and milk exploded everywhere. Everyone had to move out of line so that the mess could be cleaned up. After the milk had been mopped the cashier rang up my groceries. Just as she announced my total someone pushed his way to the front of the line and said, "Wait, I got you another gallon of milk." He had been behind me in line, and when he saw the mess he ran to the back of the store to replace the exploded gallon.
On an unrelated note, we have survived our first potty training experience at our house. Survive is too dramatic a word. The whole process was remarkably uneventful. It did prompt some rather hilarious conversations about anatomy. But I try to remember that someday my children will grow up and be old enough to be embarrassed. So, while they are fabulous stories that would make you laugh, I have decided that they probably ought not be broadcast in an online venue. Just know that life has been pretty funny around here lately.
Kindness: Parts Previous
27 April 2014
07 April 2014
Treasure Hunt
My kids love watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates. The show isn't exactly a pinnacle of achievement in children's television, but their are worse options. Actually, despite my goal to turn my children into nerds, I've decided that I'm opposed to educational TV programming. But that is a topic for another day. We stumbled across Jake on Netflix, and a few weeks ago when I had the flu I let him and his "merry crew of Neverland pirates" babysit my kids. It is almost disturbing how much of the show they can quote. They really don't get to watch it that often, but my little boy can pretty much quote verbatim every episode he has seen. His little sister can't recreate the episodes, but she knows all of the tag lines. She likes to say "Aw coconuts," and tries to count gold doubloons. I'm pretty sure that the other day she was saying "Jolly Roger," but her speech isn't always completely clear, so I could be wrong.
This weekend we made an awesome hot wheels track in the kitchen. It started on the refrigerator, went over the counters, and crossed a few chairs. Due to my lack of foresight, the track ended on the floor right in front of the stove. It took a while to set up, and the kids were so excited. I even tried to heighten the suspense by making them pick the perfect car for the inaugural run and count backwards from 10 before letting it go. They were delighted and thrilled for about 30 seconds. Then the car reached the end of the track and kept rolling right under the stove. I think they both wondered why I had made them work so hard to lose their favorite car.
It was a disaster until I remembered that they love the Neverland pirates. I told them we were going on a treasure hunt to find their car. We tried several methods of extraction, but finally I gave up and just moved the stove. My little girl exclaimed "treasure!" and picked up an entirely different car. The kids also found a purple spoon, a yellow magnet, tons of cereal, and the car we were originally looking for. Now they want to know if they can go on a treasure hunt under the dishwasher.
This weekend we made an awesome hot wheels track in the kitchen. It started on the refrigerator, went over the counters, and crossed a few chairs. Due to my lack of foresight, the track ended on the floor right in front of the stove. It took a while to set up, and the kids were so excited. I even tried to heighten the suspense by making them pick the perfect car for the inaugural run and count backwards from 10 before letting it go. They were delighted and thrilled for about 30 seconds. Then the car reached the end of the track and kept rolling right under the stove. I think they both wondered why I had made them work so hard to lose their favorite car.
It was a disaster until I remembered that they love the Neverland pirates. I told them we were going on a treasure hunt to find their car. We tried several methods of extraction, but finally I gave up and just moved the stove. My little girl exclaimed "treasure!" and picked up an entirely different car. The kids also found a purple spoon, a yellow magnet, tons of cereal, and the car we were originally looking for. Now they want to know if they can go on a treasure hunt under the dishwasher.
23 March 2014
There is probably no hope for you to be normal if your mom used to be a History teacher.
I have finally admitted this week that it is one of the deep desires of my heart for my children to grow up to be nerds. There is an important distinction between nerdiness and intelligence. I'm aiming for nerdiness. I don't want my kids to be so smart that school is boring and feels pointless to them. I don't want them to have unnaturally high IQs that cause social convention to completely elude them. It would be nice if they were just slightly smarter than average. Just smart enough to get a scholarship. That would be the perfect amount of intelligence.
Wherever my kids fall on the IQ scale, I do hope that they will enjoy some intellectual pursuits. I want them to enjoy learning new things. I want them to be curious about how things work and then figure it out. I hope that they grow up to enjoy libraries and museums. I hope they will read frequently. I want them to have a decent knowledge of the classics and be able to understand an allusion to Greek mythology. If they would occasionally make their own references that would be even better. At the very least I hope that they will learn to differentiate among elusion, allusion, and illusion.
I want them to watch the news and know where Crimea is. Or if they don't know, I want them to care enough to find out. I hope that they never vote in a presidential election only to be surprised to find out that the popular vote does not determine the next executive of our country. I hope that they have musical proclivities and know the difference between tonic and dominant tones. I would love it if they could appreciate the artistry of a well executed key change.
My desire to turn my kids into nerds hit a high point this week. I enjoy reading to my kids. They have favorite stories that they sometimes request, but I noticed that often they don't care what I'm reading to them. They just like to have some time to sit in my lap and hear my voice. If there are pictures involved they will sit quietly for a very long time. This observation reminded me of a book that I used when I was teaching high school. I used to check it out of the library every year when it was time to teach the American Revolution. I decided that I must own this book and start frequently reading it to my children. Because, if they don't care what I'm reading to them, it might as well be the Declaration of Independence.
The book is out of print, but I tracked down a copy. It is the actual text of the Declaration of Independence, and each phrase is illustrated. My book arrived in the mail a few days ago, and I am unreasonably excited about it. The day it arrived I saw my three year old pull it off the shelf and start flipping though the pages. My inner History teacher is overjoyed.
Wherever my kids fall on the IQ scale, I do hope that they will enjoy some intellectual pursuits. I want them to enjoy learning new things. I want them to be curious about how things work and then figure it out. I hope that they grow up to enjoy libraries and museums. I hope they will read frequently. I want them to have a decent knowledge of the classics and be able to understand an allusion to Greek mythology. If they would occasionally make their own references that would be even better. At the very least I hope that they will learn to differentiate among elusion, allusion, and illusion.
I want them to watch the news and know where Crimea is. Or if they don't know, I want them to care enough to find out. I hope that they never vote in a presidential election only to be surprised to find out that the popular vote does not determine the next executive of our country. I hope that they have musical proclivities and know the difference between tonic and dominant tones. I would love it if they could appreciate the artistry of a well executed key change.
My desire to turn my kids into nerds hit a high point this week. I enjoy reading to my kids. They have favorite stories that they sometimes request, but I noticed that often they don't care what I'm reading to them. They just like to have some time to sit in my lap and hear my voice. If there are pictures involved they will sit quietly for a very long time. This observation reminded me of a book that I used when I was teaching high school. I used to check it out of the library every year when it was time to teach the American Revolution. I decided that I must own this book and start frequently reading it to my children. Because, if they don't care what I'm reading to them, it might as well be the Declaration of Independence.
The book is out of print, but I tracked down a copy. It is the actual text of the Declaration of Independence, and each phrase is illustrated. My book arrived in the mail a few days ago, and I am unreasonably excited about it. The day it arrived I saw my three year old pull it off the shelf and start flipping though the pages. My inner History teacher is overjoyed.
16 March 2014
Sundays
We were out of town this week, so I had a break from my usual Sunday assignment of teaching the 9 year old Sunday school class. Instead, I spent all of church with adults. It was extremely boring. One benefit of being with the children is that there is a lot more music involved. Another is that kids are awesome and entertaining. Teaching on Sundays reminds me of a lot of the things I enjoyed about my full time teaching days. This year we are studying the Old Testament, and the kids have plenty of random and unexpected things to say that make me smile.
Lesson about the creation:
"I don't know why Heavenly Father had to rest on the seventh day. Jesus did all the work."
Lesson on Adam and Eve:
While I was trying to explain what it means to be created in the image of God
"Does that mean that He has freckles like me?"
Lesson on Noah:
"Wait, was this before the Empire State Building was built?"
and
"It says that Noah was 600 years old when the flood started, but that can't be true. It's not possible to live that long. He must have eaten only broccoli and eggs."
Lesson about the creation:
"I don't know why Heavenly Father had to rest on the seventh day. Jesus did all the work."
Lesson on Adam and Eve:
While I was trying to explain what it means to be created in the image of God
"Does that mean that He has freckles like me?"
Lesson on Noah:
"Wait, was this before the Empire State Building was built?"
and
"It says that Noah was 600 years old when the flood started, but that can't be true. It's not possible to live that long. He must have eaten only broccoli and eggs."
09 March 2014
The Snake Story
During the summer after my first year of college I worked in the Emergency Room. If I were trying to have a controversial, socially relevant, or In any way serious blog this would be a post about how it is possible to get a degree without student loans. Instead my goal is to have a largely frivolous blog. For the purposes of this post the point of bringing up the job is that strange things happen in the Emergency Room.
My job was not medically related at all. I was the annoying person who insisted on seeing insurance information and identification. It was also my job to ask parents to sign a mountain of paperwork before their child's broken arm could be set. However, the ER staff was aware that I was also completing my EMT training, and they were very supportive. I was occasionally invited back from the registration desk to see what was going on. If there was anything particularly interesting happening I usually got to be a part of it. The doctors and nurses were always happy to answer any of my questions. I learned a lot. Unfortunately, the most exciting stuff always seemed to happen on my day off.
The best Emergency Room story I have is one that I did not participate in at all. A member of my EMT class was part of the crew that brought the woman in, and she was treated at the hospital where I worked. I heard multiple times about all the excitement that I missed. I am fully aware that it is entirely possible that most of the story is exaggerated or fabricated, but it is such a great story that I have decided to retell it here.
A woman (whose name I never knew. Confidentiality laws and all that...) had a very large pet snake. When she opened the cage to feed it, the snake grabbed both the food being offered and the woman's hand. I dislike snakes and know very little about them. I do know two things: a snake's teeth are angled toward the back of the mouth, and snakes apparently have no gag reflex. These two things meant that this woman's hand was very stuck inside her pet. The more she tried to pull her hand out, the further the teeth dug into her. She used her free hand to call 911.
Somewhere between the end of the emergency call, but before the ambulance arrived, she thought that it would be a good idea to put her free hand into the snake's cage to try to pull her first hand out. By the time paramedics arrived both hands were stuck inside the snake. The first responder to arrive looked at her, swore, and said "I don't do snakes." Then he walked out. Fortunately for the woman, he was part of a larger group; some of whom were willing to deal with snakes.
I have no idea what exactly they did. I do know that she was very concerned that they might hurt the snake that was eating her. I also know that by the time she arrived in the emergency room her hands were no longer inside a snake.
My job was not medically related at all. I was the annoying person who insisted on seeing insurance information and identification. It was also my job to ask parents to sign a mountain of paperwork before their child's broken arm could be set. However, the ER staff was aware that I was also completing my EMT training, and they were very supportive. I was occasionally invited back from the registration desk to see what was going on. If there was anything particularly interesting happening I usually got to be a part of it. The doctors and nurses were always happy to answer any of my questions. I learned a lot. Unfortunately, the most exciting stuff always seemed to happen on my day off.
The best Emergency Room story I have is one that I did not participate in at all. A member of my EMT class was part of the crew that brought the woman in, and she was treated at the hospital where I worked. I heard multiple times about all the excitement that I missed. I am fully aware that it is entirely possible that most of the story is exaggerated or fabricated, but it is such a great story that I have decided to retell it here.
A woman (whose name I never knew. Confidentiality laws and all that...) had a very large pet snake. When she opened the cage to feed it, the snake grabbed both the food being offered and the woman's hand. I dislike snakes and know very little about them. I do know two things: a snake's teeth are angled toward the back of the mouth, and snakes apparently have no gag reflex. These two things meant that this woman's hand was very stuck inside her pet. The more she tried to pull her hand out, the further the teeth dug into her. She used her free hand to call 911.
Somewhere between the end of the emergency call, but before the ambulance arrived, she thought that it would be a good idea to put her free hand into the snake's cage to try to pull her first hand out. By the time paramedics arrived both hands were stuck inside the snake. The first responder to arrive looked at her, swore, and said "I don't do snakes." Then he walked out. Fortunately for the woman, he was part of a larger group; some of whom were willing to deal with snakes.
I have no idea what exactly they did. I do know that she was very concerned that they might hurt the snake that was eating her. I also know that by the time she arrived in the emergency room her hands were no longer inside a snake.
02 March 2014
Good Morning
I have reached the point in pregnancy where reasonable sleep patterns are unattainable. At 2 in the morning when the house is dark and quiet and the circadian rhythm of a normal human being would dictate sleep, I instead find myself experiencing insomnia induced by heartburn, leg cramps, contractions, and general pregnancy discomfort. At 2 in the afternoon when my kids want to run, shout, play, and generally be toddlers, I can barely keep my eyes open. I find that I get my best sleep starting around 6:00 in the morning. My kids like to wake up around 7:30. I usually hear them wake up, and then roll over and go back to sleep until they come find me and ask for breakfast.
Surprisingly, my kids are extremely well behaved during their unsupervised morning play time. They play for over an hour without causing any mayhem. Their favorite morning toys are books, puzzles, and cars. They never climb on anything, color on anything, or get into anything that they shouldn't. Then they eat breakfast and chaos ensues. Breakfast ruins my children. I've considered skipping the meal altogether, but I think starving your children counts as neglect, or abuse, or at least cause for severe judgement from other moms.
When the kids are tired of being well behaved and self sufficient, they come wake me up and ask for breakfast. The first thing my little boy says to me is always funny. Here are a few of my favorites:
"The monsters are trying to get into the scare program."
"I need to make my tummy feel better with M&Ms"
"Remember when I got in the big huge football bathtub?"
"My sister is not in her bed and I need to draw you a beautiful picture."
"Can you read the cupcake to me?"
Sundays are less fun because we have church early and I usually have to wake my kids up. They aren't as entertaining when they are groggy. This morning the little redhead didn't say anything to me until we were in the car and almost at church. Then he said, "Mama, I just told Daddy for you to stop waking me up."
I agree with him. Things are much more fun when he is the one that wakes me up.
Surprisingly, my kids are extremely well behaved during their unsupervised morning play time. They play for over an hour without causing any mayhem. Their favorite morning toys are books, puzzles, and cars. They never climb on anything, color on anything, or get into anything that they shouldn't. Then they eat breakfast and chaos ensues. Breakfast ruins my children. I've considered skipping the meal altogether, but I think starving your children counts as neglect, or abuse, or at least cause for severe judgement from other moms.
When the kids are tired of being well behaved and self sufficient, they come wake me up and ask for breakfast. The first thing my little boy says to me is always funny. Here are a few of my favorites:
"The monsters are trying to get into the scare program."
"I need to make my tummy feel better with M&Ms"
"Remember when I got in the big huge football bathtub?"
"My sister is not in her bed and I need to draw you a beautiful picture."
"Can you read the cupcake to me?"
Sundays are less fun because we have church early and I usually have to wake my kids up. They aren't as entertaining when they are groggy. This morning the little redhead didn't say anything to me until we were in the car and almost at church. Then he said, "Mama, I just told Daddy for you to stop waking me up."
I agree with him. Things are much more fun when he is the one that wakes me up.
23 February 2014
Kindness: Part 4
Proving that I am not the only person in the world who occasionally encounters a kind stranger, today's post comes from another redhead from Colorado and former roommate of mine. Technically I don't think we ever had the same address, but some people just count as roommates no matter where they live.
From Sarah:
Today I am grateful for Ted Talks and kind hearted souls. Yesterday I made an attempt to get from my severely delayed flight to a connecting flight within 30 minutes- crossing through customs at immigration. I asked a handful of fellow travelers if they wouldn't mind me cutting in line, and when one kind soul (Max) responded with a look of empathy I burst into tears. He was incredibly encouraging and then processed to sprint with me helping me to navigate through JFK to terminal 2. In a moment of rest he mentioned he had been traveling for 48 hours and was stranded in Portugal because a passenger had a heart attack. He watched an inflight Ted Talk (incidentally I did too) which shows the brain's response to stress is to reach out to others. So in his exhaustion he decided to help me. I arrived at the gate three minutes after the door to the plane closed, but I'll never forget Max, more stressed than me seeing an opportunity to help another human soul.
From Sarah:
Today I am grateful for Ted Talks and kind hearted souls. Yesterday I made an attempt to get from my severely delayed flight to a connecting flight within 30 minutes- crossing through customs at immigration. I asked a handful of fellow travelers if they wouldn't mind me cutting in line, and when one kind soul (Max) responded with a look of empathy I burst into tears. He was incredibly encouraging and then processed to sprint with me helping me to navigate through JFK to terminal 2. In a moment of rest he mentioned he had been traveling for 48 hours and was stranded in Portugal because a passenger had a heart attack. He watched an inflight Ted Talk (incidentally I did too) which shows the brain's response to stress is to reach out to others. So in his exhaustion he decided to help me. I arrived at the gate three minutes after the door to the plane closed, but I'll never forget Max, more stressed than me seeing an opportunity to help another human soul.
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