Flexibility or The Cat and Piano that were not on the List

Yesterday I had great plans for the day. Not exciting plans but many plans: go to the produce stand that during the week seemed a little too out of the way, fill the refrigerator for the week ahead, tidy up, vacuum, buy new socks. It is time to begin completing college applications, we agreed yesterday afternoon would be the day to dig into that processes. I had a long "to do" list and a pen ready to check things off one by one.

None of these things were completed. Life intervened. Our old man cat, Oscar, was hit by a car. He ran into the neighbor's yard dragging his rear leg and then vanished. Our family, four strong, searched and searched for him. He had pulled a cat magic act and disappeared.

We were distracted from the realization that we had lost Oscar, literally and possibly figuratively, by a text from a friend. Her move was not going well. The piano movers had just told her that the piano was not going to fit up the stairwell to her new apartment. There was no way to get it in.  This was not a decorating problem, this was an economic problem. She earns her living teaching piano lessons.

We drove to her old house to size up the piano and give some moral support. This was not on my list of things to do. The furniture movers arrived. After much measuring and lifting and talk of angles and shifting of weight it was decided that it might fit, but they would charge double what they had estimated.  Piano teachers are not rich. The movers finished with the chests and couches and left. Mid afternoon there was still a piano sitting in her old house, an empty wall in her apartment and a twisting stairway in between.

My husband called in our teenage son and a roofer he knew. Another friend, with a back problem, jumped in to help as well. With a truck and some two by fours and dollies and come alongs and straps and a lot of sweat and colorful language, three hours later the piano was at the top of the stairs, the stairs that had two ninety degree turns along the way up. The stairwell walls will need some touch ups.

I drove home to find Oscar had returned, bloodied and gimping. We loaded him in a laundry basket and went to the emergency clinic. This was not on my list either. At 10:30 Saturady night, we at last returned home with a sedated and stitched up cat. He should be fine in a few weeks though he may lose one toe.

It was a long day. Nothing on our list was accomplished, but we helped our friends both two legged and four.

The college applications are still on the desk top waiting, the other chores will work themselves out.

We have our plans; God has His plans.They are not always the same. There's no reason to fight the work that is put before us.  To fight to stick to our plan instead of being flexible creates turmoil instead of peace.   Seek peace.

Peace,
Michelle

Words have Power

   Words have power. When my husband and I were first married we had a mug that I had received as a gift from a preschool parent. The mug listed 101 ways to give praise. Line after line of primary colored writing covered the mug. I was a tea drinker at that time and every morning my husband, the early riser in our pair, would brew a pot of tea and bring me a mug to start the day. As we didn’t have much kitchenware at the time, I often ended up with this Praise mug. It became a running joke that instead of my saying thank you for the tea I would find a phrase from the mug to use. “Wow, you did a great job making this tea”; “Good work making this tea”; "I’m so proud of how you made this tea”; “Atta boy, you made tea”. You get the idea, it was more than a little tongue in cheek, but delivered with love.

   Over the last twenty or so years we have occasionally reverted back to our super positive mug talk when one or the other of us needed a mini pep talk. It is not a natural state for us, but even though we are usually joking when we do this, it works. Hearing positive statements makes the day better or at least the moment. It is easy to complain, gripe and whine. Hearing a steady stream of negative comments, while not ruinous of the day, certainly brings the mood down a few notches. Complaining and griping is highly contagious. One person pauses, the next person needs to match that gripe and raise it one or two complaints. To hear people talk one might think ours is a terrible existence and, generally speaking, the people I know have pretty good lives.

   We have a choice each day, each hour. We can spread negative grumbling or we can spread positive spirits. Whether we know it or not our children are absorbing our tone, our attitudes, and our words, processing them and then giving them right back to us. If a child has a sassy, smart aleck retort to a teacher or parent after doling out the appropriate correction and consequences, we as parents have to look to see where that example originated. Sometimes is it TV, sometimes it is a friend, but usually it is home, mom and dad. If it happens frequently, then it is definitely a role model at home. Until they are 11 or 12, the model at home is the parental unit. After 11 and 12 others have more influence, yet all the while we parents still have a pretty substantial impact. The germ of advice is to watch what you say and how you say it. If your child mimics you perfectly, are you ok with how that will sound and how that will affect others? If not, you need to change. Maybe even get a sappy, super positive mug to remind you.