corner view: a positive thought for bad moments

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It’s an action, yes? You have to choose to look for the good. Anyone can do it. You don’t have to be educated, rich, lucky, pretty, smart, healthy or popular. You just have to choose. In any situation. If you are unhappy and you don’t want to be- look for something. Something small. Something to hang your hat on. It’s there. In the midwest of the United States it’s not uncommon to hear people recognize, “It could be worse!” And indeed it could. Find beauty. Actively seek it out. You can’t always change others or the world around you. You can decide how you are going to respond to it. For years now I’ve kept a gratitude journal. Each day I try to think of three things I’m grateful for. Somedays, well most days they’re mundane occurances. Milk in my coffee. A favorite tune on the car radio. A book on CD by a favorite author on the shelf the day I go to the library. Other days it’s pure magic and wonder; the day I married Lovey, the day Zuzu entered the world. The day I found out the Quail was in me. Some days it’s a feeling; the Quail’s tight little fists balled up around my neck; Zuzu racing across the playground hollaring, “Momma!!!” at top speed; the moment before I give in to sleep for the night. Or a smell; be it sage turkey on Christmas morning; the lingering smell of pie crust baked the night before; or the coffee wafting from the kitchen when I come out of our room. Those moments are there. I just have to find a way to take time to notice them. And when a moment is bad; well lately I’ve been working on simply letting it pass. Noticing it yes, reflecting on the cause and repercussions; but the moment that notice turns into rumination; I’m done with it. Time to move on and look for those tiny everyday miracles that weave a tapesty into the fabric of the life I want to remember when I curl up with it years from now. When I can’t come up up with something to pull me from my funk on my own, I turn to others who are grateful and borrow from them. One of my favoriate places for a happy thought? Secret Society of Happy People. I like that they exist. In secret. And there is a whole society of them out there.

Corner view is a weekly Wednesday date hosted originally hosted by Jane, currently by Francesca. A topic is given and you can see impressions; be it in photographic or poetic in form from around the world:  Jane, Dana, Bonny, Joyce, Ian, Francesca, Theresa, Cate, Kasia, Otli, Trinsch, Isabelle, Janis, Kari, jgy, Lise, Dorte, McGillicutty, Sunnymama, Ibb, Kelleyn, Ninja, Sky, RosaMaria, Juniper, Valerie, Sammi, Cole, Don, WanderChow, FlowTops, Tania, Tzivia, Kristin, Laura, Guusje, Susanna, Juana, Elsa, Nadine

gratitude journal

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1. babies in bucket hats

2. pie birds

3. a clean house

4. pandora stations

5. craig’s list water toys

6. sprinklers!

7. The Starkey Pie Social Gathering

8. 42 of of favorite people coming over for pie & coffee

9. the loan of a coffee urn

10. wee ones in swimmies & piggies

11. sidewalk chalk

12. bubbles & balls

13. more pie than you can shake a stick at

14. homemade ice cream

15. a freezer full of berries & rhubarb

16. a tree tent

17. naptime

18. too much coffee

19. a shady yard

20. feelin smart

21. a happy belly & heart

Fave-O-Lit Friday: Gabriel Gadfly

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Retard

You abuse the word.

You say it with a lightness
that ignores my twenty-nine year old
sister playing with Barbie dolls
and unable to run her own bathwater
for fear she might scald the skin
off her thighs.

You say it with a lightness
that ignores my family’s celebration
when years and years of work
finally paid off and my sister learned to read
the year her brother, four years younger,
started high school.

You say it with a lightness
that ignores the woman who
would not let her daughter
be near my sister because
she thought my sister’s brain
might be contagious
and you say it with a lightness
that ignores my sister’s furrowing
brow when she overhears the word
you think she does not understand.

You say it with a lightness
that ignores every stare
my fearless sister walks under.

You say it with a lightness
that ignores the boy in my sister’s class
who bruises his temples with his fists
because he is frustrated hunting words
his tongue doesn’t understand how to form:
words like “toothpaste” and “basketball” and
“I don’t know how to tell you my body hurts.”

You say it with a lightness
that ignores the boy in my sister’s class
who dies at twenty-two because his contorted
body was born stamped with
an expiration date earlier than yours
and you say it with a lightness
that ignores my exhausted mother
trying to tell my sister what death is.

You say it with a lightness
that ignores everything else my sister is:
her love of rocking chairs and dancing,
fleece sweaters and Mexican food;
her fear of thunderstorms
and the sound of people fighting.

You abuse the word.

You do not know better
than to disrespect its weight.
After years and years of work,
maybe you will learn.

This poem © Gabriel Gadfly. Published Jun 8, 2011

corner view: on my wall

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What’s on our walls is what keeps us cheerful! Happy colors, some of my favorite photographs from the flora in our yard and paintings done by family, a poster from a BBQ we hosted where friends came from far and wide and some vintage flour ads. And of course favorite photographs of our little dears.  

Corner view is a weekly Wednesday date hosted originally hosted by Jane, currently by Francesca. A topic is given and you can see impressions; be it in photographic or poetic in form from around the world:

 Jane, Dana, Bonny, Joyce, Ian, Francesca, Theresa, Cate, Kasia, Otli, Trinsch, Isabelle, Janis, Kari, jgy, Lise, Dorte, McGillicutty, Sunnymama, Ibb, Kelleyn, Ninja, Sky, RosaMaria, Juniper, Valerie, Sammi, Cole, Don, WanderChow, FlowTops, Tania, Tzivia, Kristin, Laura, Guusje, Susanna, Juana, Elsa, Nadine

Mommaday: those tenderhearted milestones

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You know the ones I’m talking about. The first time you see your child, the first time they look into your eyes, the first time they tell you they love you. Well imagine the overwhelming pride and love you feel when that happens coupled by the genetic similarity of both of your children reaching it in the same way. As the parent of a child with special needs you often hear up and coming parents lamenting their fear that their child won’t know them. Will never call them Momma, won’t care for them anymore than anyone else. Well folks. I’ve said it before and I get to say it again. Your child will know you. You will have those tender moments in one form or another. And when you see your children reach it in a similar way, you’ll smile at your unexpected genetic prowess.

The milestone here I couldn’t have predicted, read about in a baby development book or dreamt of involves the first time my dears verbally recognized me as their Momma and a separate entity from them. When Zuzu was about 9 months old and dreadfully sick with an ear infection her fever shot up, as they tend too in the middle of the night. She snuffled quietly as we ran the cool tub hoping it would drop the raising temperature. The moment we set her hot little self in the cool water she shreaked out her very first “MOMMMMMAAAAAAA!” in pure unadulterated anger.

This past friday the Quail and I sat on the kitchen floor with an informal dinner that she was nearing the end of. I had a baggie that contained the 3 left-over chicken nuggets from a previous dinner. She had finished her first and I was reaching in to get the next when Zuzu sidled up and helped herself to the third nugget. The Quail hath no fury, like a woman whose stomach has been betrayed. She bellowed her newly acquired “TOPPPPPP!!!!!” and held out her palm ala crossing guard. When that ceased to make her sister return the nugget, she looked furiously at me chuckling at her outrage and turned the wrath of her palm on me and bellowed clear as day:

 “YOU!!!!! TOPPPPP!!!!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes. your children will know you. And despise you.

gratitude journal

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1. 2 year olds running and shrieking with laughter

2. 4 year olds explaining their expertise in drawing

3. 2 year olds telling me precisely what they think of me

4. 4 year olds drawing their first flower

5. 2 year olds getting normal results from a liver panel

6. 4 year olds trying really hard to cooperate

7. 2 & 4 year olds having very full dance cards

8. Lovey taking care of business

9. everyone liking ravioli

10. Trader Joe’s

11. the ordinary looking extraordinary

12. laundry done.

13. a new-to-us water table & little kid picnic table

14. lavendar

15. a cousin coming out with just a scrape

16. an Uncle that’s going to be ok

17. a package with treats for the whole family arriving unexpectedly. Thanks Uncle Greg & Auntie Deb

18. a 2 year old saying Tur, when she sees a turtle

19. a 2 year old chasing a ball around the house

20. a 4 year old enjoying gymnastics

21. peace of mind