Cinco De Mayo*

Yesterday, I felt like I was going to burst.  I went to Trader Joe’s with both kids after their naps.  This was, as usual, cutting it way too close to dinnertime.  I feel anxious even now just thinking of the frenzy.  

For those of you who may not have realized it, yesterday was Cinco de Mayo*.  Not many people in the Northeast take this holiday very seriously, but in our house, it is observed almost religiously.

  So, I was scrambling to find some tri-tip or tamales or Carne Asada, something, anything that I could pull into a celebration.  Not that any of us really felt like celebrating anyway.  We are all just recovering from the flu, and sinusitis, conjunctivitis, ear infections and cabin fever.  We have been on edge and irritable from the 13 month old to the 31  year old.  

In light of all this, all I could muster is some low grade ground beef, commercial guacamole and handmade tortillas.  The tortillas were my saving grace and my Achilles heel.  We heat them over the gas stove’s flames in a very dangerous and yet authentic manner.  I usually end up with some singed arm hairs.  

Yesterday, this flame throwing tortilla toasting was happening while my husband sorted the laundry in the kitchen in order to take it to the launder-o-mat.  We hadn’t been in two weeks, so there were like 45 lbs of underwear, shirts, jeans, onzies, towels, etc piled in each corner.  Amidst all this both kids were bull dozing around convinced that the laundry piles were for tunneling and jumping in.  Their adventures were punctuated by squeals and screams.  Basically, it was a total mad house.  

And writing it now, the scene seems sweet and nostalgic but at the time I was like, “If everyone doesn’t get to the table in 3 minutes there are going to be serious consequences!!!”  I had no idea what sort of consequences I was going to come up with but I felt determined to make things fall into line whatever it took.  And of course, I burned my fingers flipping the tortillas. 

I blame it on the rush, the feeling of pressure that everyone has to get to bed, and I have emails to send, tests to study for, and blog entries to write.  I blame it on my indecision...should my husband go do the laundry or should I?  Which is more efficient? More self-less, less likely to cause conflict?  This over analytical state of rushing causes  my fingers to burn and this irrational anger to rise up in me.  

But then our upstairs neighbors knock on the door, sour cream and salsa in hand.  They are here to celebrate with us.  The kids are thrilled and soon laughter ensues.  It takes a while for my fight or flight instincts to relax but they do.  

And so I’m thinking, what would we do without our neighbors?  Those upstairs and those over the border.  Thanks to them, time and time again catastrophe has been averted and peace and justice reign.  I always think the solution for my madness is to lock myself away for some good old “me time” but really it usually is a million times better to be in community. So, happy belated Cinco de Mayo...don't celebrate alone:)

*Cinco De Mayo originated with Mexican-American communities in the American West as a way to commemorate the cause of freedom and democracy during the first years of the American Civil War,[8][9] and today the date is observed in the United States as a celebration of thanks to Mexico in fending off the would be French invasion of the U.S.[10] In the state of Puebla, the date is observed to commemorate the Mexican army's unlikely victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862, under the leadership of General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín.[3][11] In the United States, Cinco de mayo is generally mistaken to be Mexico's Independence Day—the most important national holiday in Mexico—which is celebrated on September 16.[3][12]- Wikipedia

Teaberry Gum Commercial 1960's Herb Alpert Teaberry Shuffle

It’s funny the things that motivate us.  When we were younger my sisters and I would do just about anything to wheedle a Sucret out of my dad.  No, not a secret...a Sucret... “the lozenge that has provided serious sore throat relief for more than 75 years”  (www.sucrets.com)
        As I type this my throat is burning with such searing pain that I'd chop off my arm for a Sucret.  But back in the day their medicinal powers was not why we sought them out.  No, my sisters and I were sugar fiends.  Sucrets or Ludens were a sure fire glucose hit for us.



My dad kept them in the breast pocket of his sports coats (probably this very sports jacket.)

If we were lucky he’d have stashed a kudos bar or two in there as well.

My mom we’d hit up for binaca or Lifesavers or best of all gum.

She’d have them hidden in the depths of her “pocketbook.”  The term pocketbook is key because it is similar to a purse but large enough to house a small child and often woven out of various colors of jute.  Sometimes she’d have her LL Bean bag with her which meant an even longer search.

But when the result was Fruit Stripe gum it was worth the wait. Fruit Stripe, Juicy Fruit, Doublemint, Extra... whatever the brand name of gum she produced, we’d refer to it as Teaberry so that she would be forced to perform the Teaberry shuffle regardless of time or place.  And SHE WOULD!



THAT is what is so great about my mom.  Seriously, picture my mom, rewatch the video and try not to smile.

Somehow to me, a sore throat, a houseful of sick kids and a flu ridden husband don't seem so bad when I think of Sucrets and the Teaberry Shuffle.  This is how

memories are made, in the silly little things that we'll never ever forget.

Visual Chronicles

I stumbled upon a copy of Visual Chronicles I bought at The Paper Source when I was newly married, full of ambitious creativity for my journals and in possession of $20 to spend.  These days none of those phrases would very accurately describe me and yet I found myself enjoying the book deeply despite the cynicism that tends to come with crow’s feet and varicose veins.  

Visual Chronicles 

I still believe that every day is a journey and that every story is worth telling because everything happens for a reason.  I still want to learn how to tell those stories well, whether through writing, speaking, art, music. Communication will always be my absolutely favorite subject to teach.  Because to communicate well brings joy, laughter, tears, healing, strength and so much more.  People change the world by the way they communicate.

To express our experiences in this world we have to pay attention to them.

Right that is first and foremost.  Pay attention to your life, it’s happening right now, don’t miss it.  (I’m preaching to myself here)

Attention: Today I noticed my refrigerator door.  we do not have nearly enough magnets to hold up the pictures, drawings, notes and cards we have up there.  But It says so much about our lives right now.  every photograph is one I treasure, every word is one that brings me hope throughout the day.  

My favorite thing at the end of a long day is to sit down and journal because it lets me mull over all of the strange things I saw, heard, did and felt today.  By replaying it and finding words for it all I appreciate it in a new light.  So, if I’m making a list (my go to way of journaling) the second thing for me to remember is to appreciate the day.

Appreciation: Instead of kid friendly cursing everytime I slammed the “blasted, dogone door.”  I began to think about this phase of life, with small children who love to finger paint, and friends and family who send Christmas cards.  I am blessed by every piece of     our lives that hangs on that door.  

And because my obsessive compulsive tendencies demand that something just isn’t finished until it is a triad.  My third observation about journaling and living and creativity is that I find great satisfaction in embellishing things.  Not changing their veracity or constitution but simply clarifying the beauty that can be muddied by this imperfect world we live in. This is why I think arts (and crafts) are good for your soul. 

Adorn:  (1. to make more pleasing, attractive, impressive, etc.; enhance: Piety adorned Abigail's character. 2. to increase the beauty, distinction, etc, of)   SO I took a picture of this door.  And gussied it up with Instagram, and wrote about it with some of the fanciest words I could find.  And you know what.  I feel good.  I feel good about my day, I feel good about my house and I feel so much love for my kids and their smudgy finger prints, the people on those Christmas cards, even the lady who lived her before us and stole the previous refrigerator in the night so we had to buy this new one... but that’s a story for another time.  

The Amazing Race

If you have ever talked to me, I have probably brought up my dream of going on the Amazing Race.  Well at long last my application is actually in the queu.  I am giddy with joy just over having finished the audition video.

CBS owns the real thing I believe but here are some out takes:)

These clips remind me of one of my first parent teacher conferences when a mom sat down and said, "I just had to come to you first because my daughter tells me you have the CRAZIEST facial expressions."   Umm, thank you?...

So, you'd vote for us right?   Can we get some sort of grass roots thing going here? I mean getting this thing to go viral would really help our cause.

So give us a shout out...then when we win a million dollars you can be like, "I knew them when..."   and "Don't forget all the little people:)"  Believe me, we won't!

*Very Special Thanks to Simon Wha and his lovely fiancee for making this magic happen.  Seriously, we could not have done it without you!

Marathon Monday

Before I start my ramblings I just wanted to say that if you are not from Suffolk county MA you may not have known that yesterday was Patriot’s Day aka Marathon Monday.  I was SO amazed and moved by the Boston Marathon yesterday.  It was truly awesome.  It made me think that if any readers out there are running races/raising money for charities please let me know (here or via facebook)  and I’d love to give you a guest post to let everyone know about it!

Tomorrow, my youngest sister and I are making an audition video to be on The Amazing Race, my all time favorite show of life.  The upcoming season will be the 25th and I am dying to be on it.  I have to confess I’ve stayed up later than is wise watching youtube videos of other people who have applied and comparing them to myself and my sister.  At first I was sure we were a shoe in.  I mean please, if you know either one of us you know the season would be chalk full of my sister’s daring feats of courage interwoven with scenes of me fighting my OCD tendencies but likely succumbing and requesting total strangers rearrange themselves to suit my organizational preferences.

But then, I realized that 20,000 other people are applying.  20,000 other people who are quirky and fun and want desperately to run this race.  And I can’t find a way to make myself stand out from the crowd.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not giving up, we are still shooting the video tomorrow and hoping to get on.  It’s just that, this in tandem with witnessing the runner’s willpower and endurance at the marathon made me consider anew the feelings of inadequacy that haunt me.  

Picture me, at the laundromat with 6 washers full of dirty clothes soiled with my kid’s spit up, “accidents”, and straight up dirt; hazardous construction material stains thanks to my husband and, worst of all, yellow armpit stains on ALL of my white shirts.  And these stains aren’t coming from intense physical training or rigorous daily activity.  Nope, these stains are all just part of regular everyday.  And I started to be what  Rachel Jankovic calls a “crankster” instead of a “thankster.”  

In other words as I stood there (wearing some stretched out yoga capris and a bleach stained blue tie dyed t-shirt because everything else has to be washed.)  I started to despair about everything :

-There is no way some random judges are going to find me “good enough” to be on National TV.

-There is no way I’ll ever have a story worth publishing.

-There is no way I’ll ever have the time or energy to train for distance running again now that I have kids.

-There is no way we will ever get out from under our college/ grad school debts and be able to do anything exciting.

And what is hard is that I’m right.  

There is very little statistical chance that I will ever publish a book, run the Boston Marathon, be on the Amazing Race or have the financial security I crave.  BUT, that is good for me.  Because if I was guaranteed those things I would, “boast against [God], ‘My own strength has saved me.’” (Judges 7:2)   

So, I’ve fallen a bit behind in my resolution to read through the Bible chronologically but today I came to the story of Gideon in Judges 7.  

Gideon is a lot like me.  He is a coward.  He asks God for like 200 signs to be sure that he is really supposed to fight against the Midianites who are murdering and oppressing his people.  You really should read the story (see reference above) but to sum it up God uses Gideon and 300 men to route thousands of violent enemies. 

Now, I am not in mortal danger, and I do not have thousands of enemies.  But there are thousands of people and obstacles out there who stand between me and my goals.  My tendency is to gather up all my resources and willpower to blast through to what I want.  This is not a very healthy way to live life.  

Here is the sort of life I want to live, the sort of person I want to be... 

I don’t want to envy others their victories or allow comparisons to sully my self-esteem, 

I don’t want to be an arrogant braggart because things go my way.

I don’t want strength, endurance, money or fame to be more important to me than my family and friends.  

I want to appreciate the moments I am given.

I want to enjoy the peaceful whir of the laundromat

I want to trust God in all things...even the Amazing Race