Ten Things My Mother Taught Me

1. Take care of your own messes.
2. Balance your checkbook.
3. Avoid debt.
4. Make the most of every moment.
5. Take lots of pictures.
6. Take the time to preserve your memories somewhere else besides just in your head.
7. Be involved in your childrens' lives, and involve your children in yours.
8. When you love someone, you serve them.
9. Father may be the Head of the home, but Mother is the Heart.
10. Trust in the Lord.

Happy Mother's Day.

A Girl and Her Glasses

The day I discovered I needed glasses, I was in my 6th grade math class. The teacher had us take out pencils and paper, and then placed a printed math test up on the overhead. I could not read it. I raised my hand and told Mr. C that I couldn't read the test and he let me move up to the front. Even at the very front, as close as I could get, I could not read the test on the overhead.

At this point, I just cried. I tried to hide it, buried my head in my arms. So many thoughts went through my mind, just adding to the tears. I had studied for this test; I was going to get an A. But now I couldn't read it, so I was going to get an F. Everyone else seemed to be able to read the test just fine. What was wrong with me? Well, then it dawned on me that I needed glasses.

Good news: I asked my teacher at the end of class if I could come back after school and take the test. I explained to him about my problem and he understood. So I went back after school and took the test, laid out on a white sheet of paper (for contrast) on the desk right in front of me so I could read it.

As soon as I got home from school, I told my mom I needed to see an eye doctor; she took me in right away (idk, maybe a day or two later) and I got my first pair of glasses.

I was amazed on the drive home that day. Everything was so clear through my new glasses! I could read street signs! I could see the detail of the trees in the distance. The mountains were no longer just a big gray blur on the horizon.

The most incredible thing for me was later, I went with my family to see a movie at the theatre. Before I'd gotten my glasses, I had always complained about how blurry the picture was, but I thought it was just because our theatre had bad equipment. Now I discovered that I was the one who'd had the "bad equipment."

My first pair of glasses, and my second pair as well, were pink plastic rims. I was of the mistaken idea at the time that I would need large frames to preserve my peripheral vision. I looked like a nerd, I'm sure. Though I didn't care; I was just happy to be able to see like a normal person!

When I was maybe a Sophmore in high school, I finally decided to go for wire frames that were a good deal smaller than my old plastic ones. I'll never forget the comment I received from one very blunt friend, "Wow, you don't look like a nerd anymore!" Thanks, Laura... But, it was true, and I felt a little less "nerdy," too.

In college, I even tried contacts for a while. But, those turned out to be more of a nuissance than they were worth, so I switched back to my good old glasses.

I feel naked without my glasses. They are a part of me. I even look at pictures of myself where I have taken off my glasses for the picture, and I just look too different. So I only take them off for really special pictures now.

I was at the glasses store getting the nose piece fixed the other day, and I took a look at the glasses for kids...they sure looked a lot more stylish than the ones I had as a kid...

Balloons

Every so often, I take my boys someplace-- the chirpractor, the fair, Nana's house-- where they are offered balloons. Balloons are cheap. They are colorful. Kids are just attracted to them somehow. And so, of course, they seem to be everywhere.

Whenever someone asks me if my kid can have a balloon, internally I cringe. The very thought of touching that latex/rubber material; or feeling it rub against my skin; or hearing it rubbing against someone or something else, sends shivers down my spine. It just...gives me the willies.

But then, I remember how much I used to love balloons as a kid. I remember watching helium-filled balloons floating up through the sky, my eyes fixated until the balloon finally disappeared to my view. I remember drawing funny faces with Sharpies and pretending my balloons were people. I remember sometimes I would get a helium-filled balloon, and after a couple of days the helium would be leaking out, but there would still be just enough left so that the balloon would drift very slowly and kind of hover in midair; I always thought that was pretty fascinating.

I remember how much I used to love balloons, and I think about all the fun my own kids would miss if I never allowed a balloon into my house. And so, when someone offers my boy a balloon, I hide my aversion and accept the offering with a smile. And my son says "thank you" with a huge grin on his face. All the way home, he holds tight to the balloon string; he cries momentarily if the balloon floats up to the ceiling and he can't reach; he wants to eat with his balloon tied to his chair; he wants to sleep with his balloon resting somewhere where he can see it all night.

Then, come morning, my son usually takes a look at his balloon and says, "Mommy, I want to pop it!" And I am all too eager to find a pin...