Dr. Peter Armstrong has some good advice to make sure your kids are safe when they’re weightlifting.
Archive - August, 2010
Fall-ing for my Favorite Foods!
Do you have a favorite season? Mine is fall. Maybe it’s the anticipation of the upcoming holidays, or the excitement of another school year? It could be the colors, the cooler weather, the longer nights, the geared up schedules, the football games, the new clothes, the new shows . . . I’m not sure. I am sure about one thing: Fall has to be the most delicious time of year!
It is hard to get Autumn-inspired living in Florida (like I do) because we don’t feel the seasons change as much as the rest of the country. We don’t jump into piles of leaves, or don scarves and knee high boots (well some people do). Instead, the start of my fall season is marked by the release of the pumpkin spice latte coffee. Silly perhaps, but for me it works like a director’s cue taken from the pages of a play: Exit stage right: Quintessential summertime cherry pie. Enter stage left: warm, homemade pumpkin pie.
With my first sip of autumn-flavor-infused coffee I instantly want to roast a chicken, bake cookies from scratch, slow cook a big pot of chili, let cinnamon steep on the stove, lay in a bed of sage leaves, or dip a peanut butter dowsed pinecone in birdseed—ok so that last one wasn’t delicious for me, but every creature deserves to enjoy such a wonderful season!
We even describe the food we eat in the fall differently. We use words like scrumptious, hearty, rich and homey. I’m sorry to say this, but I’ve never heard anyone use those adjectives for BBQ ribs.
Ugh…I’m growing impatient. Sadly, I think I’ll have to wait quite a bit longer. It’s still 100 degrees on the other side of my front door!
Open Heart Surgery
As I prepared dinner one night, I was feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, and practically beat up by my day. When my husband walked in the door I greeted him with a relieving smile and a turned cheek. No kiss on the lips—I was just too tired for that. As he planted a peck he smiled and said, “Guess what? I got courtside tickets for Marky and me to go see the Magic game!”
He was excited. And why wouldn’t he be? These tickets were free from a friend. Our teenage son plays basketball and time alone with him is rare. They would have a blast together…without me. I could feel it coming – I couldn’t stop it. My response poured from a deep pool of self pity.
I did not emit understanding and joy for him. Instead, I burst into tears, methodically stirring them into a boiling pot of noodles. And then I boiled over—if he was going to leave me behind with all of the drudgery then he deserved to understand what my day had been like. I chose to close the door of my heart. I chose annoyance over joy. I chose myself over him. When given the choice that day, I chose every response except love.
Months later, I can’t tell you why my day was so horrible or what caused me to take it out on him—which tells me that my whole heart was consumed by stuff that didn’t matter, that shouldn’t have taken residence there. What I do remember is my anger, and sadly, the look on his face when he told me about the game. It hurts to know that he probably remembers the look on my face as well. I’m sure it wasn’t attractive.
Eventually I did choose love and apologized. He chose to keep his heart open, too…when he forgave me. Although it wasn’t easy for either of us to do, I’m learning that love requires me to choose him every day, even when I’m right, or hurt, or just don’t feel like it.
Dealing with Sick and Tired
How do you react when a member of your family gets sick with a cold or the flu? Do you serve them with compassion? I don’t (always) and—what’s worse—sometimes I don’t feel guilty about my lack of sympathy. Ouch! Admitting that shows me how selfish I’m being.
Obviously, I was never meant to be a nurse or home-care provider. After as little as a day or two of coddling and caring, my mercy well dries up, I lose my patience, and I hurry them back to health. After all, my schedule doesn’t allow me to slow down just because a member of my family did. All you other type-A personalities out there, please tell me I’m not alone.
I’m not entirely void of understanding. I get that my children need me, I’m their mom. I still want my own mother’s arms to hold me when I don’t feel well. But as eager as I am to nurse my children back to health—and that is a gross understatement—I am even less eager to do so with my husband. Double ouch! Again, as my words hit this page I realize how selfish that makes me.
I suppose before the next cold and flu season hits, I ought to work on this.
Susan_Merrill: @DeniseJonas @nickjonas cheering for Nick from Tampa! 
