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Trick or Treat October 31, 2010

Filed under: mom writer — heartwriter @ 4:14 am
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I eat up Halloween. The colors. The time of year.  All that comes with it brings me childlike joy.  I get to dress up and be someone or something else for a few hours.  Carmel apple gets in my teeth and it’s a holiday that doesn’t come with a forced family gathering or guilt.

 

My eight year old loves the candy but isn’t big on the dressing up and changes her mind on a costume like the weather shifts in Seattle.  Minute by minute.  My six year old is completely and totally FREAKED OUT by the holiday.  Sometimes I wonder how they came out of my womb.

 

So instead of being disappointed by their lack of equal enthusiasm I will once again learn from my children.  Not everyone likes to bring attention to themselves with big hair and crazy makeup and that just shows my daughter has so much confidence in who she is as herself not someone in a wig or hiding behind a mask.  From my sweet, big hearted son I am learning that scary doesn’t make everyone laugh and nightmares are part of his reality right now.

 

I will get out the Aqua Net to make my hair big and crazy, then enjoy the candy stuck in my teeth and not judge or be annoyed if my children don’t get as thrilled as I do when the first trick or treater rings the bell.

 

by J.G. McGlothern

 

 

A Dozen October 24, 2010

Filed under: From The Heart — heartwriter @ 3:26 pm
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12 signifies the number of ancient tribes in Israel, the disciples who followed Jesus, the number of signs in the zodiac, the hours on a clock, and it is the number often used as a sales unit in trade.

12 is the number on my husband’s soccer jersey.  He’s been that number since youth.  During my short lived time on the soccer field, I too wore that same number.

I met my husband in the 12th month of the year and we kissed for the first time just before midnight.

We have lived in this house for 12 years. And 12 years ago today we said “I do.” 

12 is just a number – a marker of time – a number on a jersey.  The laughs we have shared out number 12.  More than likely we have fought more than 12 times but again, it’s just a number and I know we have laughed more than the number of arguments.  The way I feel about myself, about my husband, our children and about our life together when I look into his eyes erases time.  The number of years disappears and I am left standing in more love than I imagined those 12 years ago at the altar.

12 years later our marriage isn’t totally what I imagined it would be – it’s been real.  Full of ups and downs.  Sure he pisses me off like no other.  You bet he drives me nuts with his ways of leaving little piles of his stuff all around the house and yes he takes forever to get some things done, like building the raised garden.  But it’s just stuff and its only time.  And I’m no angel with my over stuffed drawers and messy closets and obsessive way of multi-tasking.

Absolutely, I‘ve thought about throwing in the towel.  No doubt I’ve thought about what it would be like, if only.  But the love I feel for him brings me back to reality.  When I shove my ego out of the way, I see this man, who gets me like no other.  He knows how I feel before I know I’m feeling it.  He supports my dreams, holds my hand and makes me laugh like no one else.  I married my best friend and yes occasionally he frustrates me, challenges me – but every day he inspires me, moves me, loves me when I’m unlovable, makes me want to keep striving to be the best version of myself.

Oh, yes there’s the raised garden bed I have asked him about 12 times to build me in our backyard, but it’s just a number and at the end of the day our marriage is the garden that matters.  And after 12 years it’s still blossoming and producing fruit, with the occasional reality check of a good pruning.

So now I will go fill the coffee pot to 12 and crack open a dozen eggs and share a meal with my little family, the one who brings far more blessings than I ever imagined.

by J.G. McGlothern

 

Running Shoes or Barefeet? October 23, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — heartwriter @ 4:58 am

For today’s blog, please visit my website, www.mamaneedsarefill.com

http://www.mamaneedsarefill.com/2010/10/running-shoes-or-barefeet/

 

The Art of Random Conversation October 22, 2010

Filed under: mom writer — heartwriter @ 3:45 am
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At a birthday party for my nephew yesterday I knew I wouldn’t know the other adults.  My sister and her family live out in the burbs – we travel in different circles.  And that aspect of the situation, not knowing others, either excites me or causes me to throw a book in my purse.

I left the book at home.

At the Jumpy Place I noticed all the parents were dropping off their kids, as I would do if I lived closer and the party wasn’t for a member of my family. The only adult besides my sister and brother-in-law, who were busy hosting, was a grandfather of one of the party guests.  He sat off in the corner of the warehouse away from all of the blow up jumpy thing-a-ma-jigs, with a book on his lap. Face down. Not him, the book. 

I sat in the chair next to him, Reading something interesting? 

I’m on the first chapter, and so far yes, he told me.  The Art of Racing in The Rain, by Garth Stein.

I have that very book on my night stand, middle of my book pile, I told this friendly stranger.

The author is local, the narrator is a dog and it comes highly recommended.  I can’t wait to get to it.

From there our conversation took off at lightning speed. This retired 72 year old man and I had lots in common, many topics to connect on and discuss. I knew the chance of seeing him again was slim so I savored the random meaningful, precious conversation.

When I engage in conversation with a stranger beyond sports and weather and meet someone willing to try out this conversation thing beyond the usual topics of kids and school, school and kids, I am delighted.  Engaged in food for thought.  Giddy about the little things in life, like books and movies, travel and recipes. We traveled the globe of conversation in a short duration, circling back to books, where our conversation started.

I won’t meet this man for coffee, join his book club nor will he join us on our next family vacation, but we shared an hour of conversation that was enjoyable, entertaining, engaging and beyond the regular party chat with an unknown individual.

When I get to the book in the middle of my stack on my night stand, the one told from a dog’s perspective, I will think of Larry, the grandpa I met at a birthday party back in October.

 by J.G. McGlothern

 

Third Time Around October 20, 2010

Filed under: mom writer — heartwriter @ 7:24 pm
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Reading Harry Potter to my children the other day I came across the most wonderful phrase. Heart hammering.  Harry was super excited, emotions buzzing on his way to Hogwarts for the first time.

This is the third time I have tried to read this ever popular book. This time it’s sticking.  This time I have made it on the train and my kids are with me for the ride.  I know it’s not my very bad British accent I am using this time round either, they rather wish I would stop trying to come up with voices for the characters, but I’m sorry, someone with the name Hermione or Hagrid deserves an accent.  My accents may not be British Brilliant, but our hearts are hammering as we read on and the adventure unfolds.

I don’t know why I didn’t care for the book the other times I tried to read it.  I don’t know why this time I care about what happens to Harry.  I am not one to keep on reading a book if it’s not grabbing my attention and hammering my heart. I am also not one to jump on the bandwagon and stay there just because everyone else is on board.  It has to feel right.  And the whole Harry Potter thing bored me until now. It’s all about timing I suppose.  Where my head is when I read something, where my heart is when I am reading another’s words.

What other things in my life deserve another chance? Hmmm, I’ll have to ponder that one.  What other things are my heart ready for now?

by J.G. McGlothern

 

Waiting October 18, 2010

There has been a writing project bouncing around in my brain for a couple of years now and I have been waiting for the right time to start it.  Believing other things needed to be in place first, waiting for that perfect time to begin, I have been holding back, delaying my dreams.

This past Saturday as my girlfriends slept in, I chose to seize the opportunity and begin this project. We drove four hours out of the city, leaving children, husbands, dogs and guilt all at home.  We drove away from responsibilities to others, traffic, distractions and those things we let get in the way of finding our own quiet spot within and listening deeply.

K says her cabin’s front yard often attracts a family of deer.  So as I sat and wrote, eating my banana in the quiet, I also waited for the visitors.

At home I often wait for things to be just so, all in order before I do what feeds me, nurtures my soul and gives my life greater purpose.

There is good waiting, like the anticipation of a kiss or Christmas morning, but then there’s destructive, useless waiting. The kind where you put your dreams on hold for the sake of others, laziness, fear, and just plain stubbornness.

As the sunlight filled the cabin, bringing the day to a brighter place, I filled my notebook with my dream, seeing where the pen would take me.  I still looked out the window for the deer, but my purpose was not about waiting for their appearance it was about being in the moment without expectation, void of fear and charging ahead. 

What are you waiting for as you miss what is right there in front of you, ready for the plucking?

I could get all morbid on you and risk bad writing all for the purpose of tying in the deer theme by telling you the only other deer we saw this past weekend were dead ones on the roofs of cars, hunting season has begun.  All for the purpose of warning you about what can happen to our dreams when we wait for them to happen.  Or I could tell you about the three live deer we saw later in the day on a drive to town, far off in a field, only I couldn’t see them very well because I didn’t have my glasses on, all to represent that when we least expect it, what we are waiting for can appear.

Instead I will leave you with this, is there ever a perfect time to begin living out your dreams?  Is everything ever perfectly in place?  Don’t wait until the kids are grown and out of the house, show them right now, you not only encourage them to live out their dreams, you have some of your own.  And they are damn good ones.

by J.G. McGlothern

 

Tell A Friend October 14, 2010

Filed under: From The Heart — heartwriter @ 7:05 pm
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For today’s blog, http://www.mamaneedsarefill.com/2010/10/tell-a-friend/ please visit my other website… www.mamaneedsarefill.com.