Yesterday evening as Josh and Nate got into the Jeep after their swimming practice, Nate informed me that he had the coach order his sweatshirt with the word "Butta" instead of "Miller" on the back. He said he had it as "Miller" but then his teammates told him that he should put "Butta" on the back and so he did. (That's how he and his teammates decided it should be spelled, but I think I like it better as "Buttuh". He said that they considered the "h" at the end, as in "Buttah", but concluded that just the "a" was good.) I asked, Why Butta? And his cousin answered, "Because he's so smooth when he swims--like butta."
It got me to thinking that my day had been anything but smooth like buttuh. (hmmm, maybe I do like the butta better...or, butta betta...) My day had been more like crumbled bleu cheese; falling out everywhere. I knew I had a bug on Sunday with the cloudy head, achey, itchy ears, and burning throat and eyes that were with me when I woke that morning; I tried to take it easy. But any parent knows that you can't just take a day off from being a parent, especially when you are the only one present. Monday morning wasn't much better, but I was optimistic; I thought I felt better. So I surged forward with my "to-do-list".
After walking Grace to school, I got right to checking my email to see if Grace's Spanish teacher (the head of Student Council for the school) wanted Jen and me to come to the school that day to help with a fundraiser for Haiti. We had been communicating about it the previous week via email but now, on the kick-off day, my computer, more accurately, my email was going so slowly that it took me an hour and a half to type a two-paragraph message. That should've been my first clue that I needed to slow down and just chill. But I had so much to do! (I can hear my insidious-self chortling in the background now...or just my self...not really insidious, just a part of me that knows better.)
Between waiting for my email to unfreeze I decided to get started on the bills. Turns out I was in a holding pattern on them, too. One of Joel's roommates moved out near the end of December so I knew his rent and utilities and sanitation bills would go up and I took that into account, but what I forgot was that since he also just rotated to the 11am-9pm shift, he lost most of his shift-differential premium pay; a pretty big chunk of money for us to suddenly not have. The ironic thing is that he was allowed to choose his starting rotation with the knowledge that they would soon rotate forward a shift and stay for a longer period. He purposely chose the 5p-3a shift so that he would end up on the nightshift when they moved, but this time they went backwards. No one knows why. It's all a big mystery.
So. You get the idea. My plans for the day were quickly crumbling around me like bleu cheese. And I felt lousy about it along with just feeling lousy. But then today was a new day. I still felt murky but I went along with the flow...not like butta, but not like crumbling bleu cheese, either, more like a nice, creamy Brie. Eventually, by this evening, I found myself saying, "Like butta. Just like butta." And it's not like things have really gone exactly smoothly (hence, the Brie). For example, earlier today Jen and I collected piles and piles of coins and bills from each classroom at our kids' school for the Haiti fundraiser and took them to a credit union to change it all into bills ($486 in two days!). Later, I received a call from from the school clerk stating that I needed to call the lady at the credit union because she overpaid us by $11 and that they needed me to return the $11 to the credit union. I was baffled but I called. After hearing the bank lady's explanation, I knew what had happened and within three minutes it was fixed. We didn't owe $11.
Then today after school I noticed that Grace was coughing a lot. We had to leave for her ballet class in an hour; her costume deposit and measurements were also due, then we were going to skedaddle to the boys' swim meet across town, but I was starting to doubt that she was well enough to do all that. Sure enough, I felt her and knew she was too hot--102 temp. At first I was really bummed to miss one of Nate's meets and to have Grace miss her ballet that she so loves. Also, the costume stuff was due...but I made some calls...I caught my mom just before she hopped in the shower. She came to watch Grace when she was done, left her car running in my driveway so I could jump right in and not have to fiddle with the Jeep's quirks; I zoomed off within the speed limits to try to get to the community center dance studio by 5p so I could catch the teacher between classes and to get back home by 5:15p so Cheri and my mom could get to the meet on time. Whew!
After giving the envelope to her teacher at a few minutes before five, I walked out of there saying, Like butta. (Then I kept saying it all the way home, Just like butta.)
Not only because it all worked out with the timing, but because I realized in that moment that this was best for Grace and for me (and everyone else she may have infected if we went to ballet and swimming). And I thought about yesterday and I appreciated today so much more. The bleu cheese, the Brie, and the butta all come from the same place, they just have different traits. And then I said to myself, Bleu cheese is an aquired taste. Not everyone appreciates the veins of mold and that sharp bite, but those who do, understand its perfection.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
More Silly Fears
I forgot to mention the spiders and centipedes. When you are the only parent home, you must be the one to lead them out the door when your daughter is afraid. I've always thought it was silly to be afraid of bugs--we're so much bigger and probably scarier to them, but now, finally, I think I've come as far as I ever have in overcoming my fear of spiders and centipedes in my house. And it's all thanks to this past year of being a single-parent.
I've always talked to animals, even bugs, but bugs like arachnids and chilopods freak me out when they pop out in my bathroom or bedroom or kitchen or laundry room. When Joel is here I frantically ask him to come get it. If Grace is around I stay calm but I am still freaked out. I realized that by having Joel lead the bug outside, I was not dealing with it at all. Looking back, I think I was more afraid because I could be.
Now that it's just me (and Nate, if he's home) I still don't like to be startled by the spiders and centipedes, but I communicate with them more again (like when I was a kid). I ask them not to come into my bedroom, especially above our bed, and I ask that they just show themselves in a way that won't be so sudden. I even had a conversation with a centipede in my bathroom one night. I told him I knew it wasn't his fault that he had so many legs and moved so fast. I said, "So you walk fast, so what? Is that a reason for humans to freak out? Well I'm done freaking out. I see you. You're just a little guy roaming for food or something in my bathroom. Just please don't crawl on me or come in my room and we'll just call it a night, okay?"
I didn't take it outside. I felt sure that he would just go back to his hidey-hole and not startle me anymore. And he hasn't. It's been about five months now--no more midnight appearances by Mr. Centipede or his kin. Same for the spiders. I actually had two spider buddies this summer and fall; they hung out on their webs right near me when I sat on my porch swing to write. I watched them grow from tiny little black and red spiders to big, fat, round gals. At least I think they were gals. They got so plump; don't the female spiders usually get bigger like that? In any case, I considered them my writing pals. My fellow story weaver buds. I thanked them for not coming into my house, being so big and all. Plus, I still had a tinier spider friends that came out in the evenings to crawl on my living room ceiling when I wrote at nighttime or to greet me when I went to my kitchen sink for a drink of water.
Just another way single-parenting has reminded me about reconnecting with all living beings. I am thankful.
I've always talked to animals, even bugs, but bugs like arachnids and chilopods freak me out when they pop out in my bathroom or bedroom or kitchen or laundry room. When Joel is here I frantically ask him to come get it. If Grace is around I stay calm but I am still freaked out. I realized that by having Joel lead the bug outside, I was not dealing with it at all. Looking back, I think I was more afraid because I could be.
Now that it's just me (and Nate, if he's home) I still don't like to be startled by the spiders and centipedes, but I communicate with them more again (like when I was a kid). I ask them not to come into my bedroom, especially above our bed, and I ask that they just show themselves in a way that won't be so sudden. I even had a conversation with a centipede in my bathroom one night. I told him I knew it wasn't his fault that he had so many legs and moved so fast. I said, "So you walk fast, so what? Is that a reason for humans to freak out? Well I'm done freaking out. I see you. You're just a little guy roaming for food or something in my bathroom. Just please don't crawl on me or come in my room and we'll just call it a night, okay?"
I didn't take it outside. I felt sure that he would just go back to his hidey-hole and not startle me anymore. And he hasn't. It's been about five months now--no more midnight appearances by Mr. Centipede or his kin. Same for the spiders. I actually had two spider buddies this summer and fall; they hung out on their webs right near me when I sat on my porch swing to write. I watched them grow from tiny little black and red spiders to big, fat, round gals. At least I think they were gals. They got so plump; don't the female spiders usually get bigger like that? In any case, I considered them my writing pals. My fellow story weaver buds. I thanked them for not coming into my house, being so big and all. Plus, I still had a tinier spider friends that came out in the evenings to crawl on my living room ceiling when I wrote at nighttime or to greet me when I went to my kitchen sink for a drink of water.
Just another way single-parenting has reminded me about reconnecting with all living beings. I am thankful.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Facing Silly Fears
Before Joel and I got married we agreed that he would be in charge of doing any "car stuff" and I would be in charge of grocery shopping. As I said, I was a single-parent back when Nathan was 3-5 years old. So even though his dad, Donnie and I had a similar arrangement, though not exactly a "deal" like I had with Joel, I did eventually have to take care of my own car, then and now.
I was about to write that I don't know why it's almost like a fear for me to have to get my oil changed or worse, to have to take it in for an unknown problem; I know it's because I don't do it unless I have to. I had to back when Donnie and I were separated and I have to now. Of course, I could've asked Donnie to help me out, but why? For as much as I didn't like to handle car maintenance and problems, I really didn't like to be dependent on anyone. And I do like a challenge. If my life is going along on an even keel and nothing is going "wrong" then I'm not challenging myself enough. I like to scare myself, even if it simply means taking care of my car. When I face my fears, they eventually become something else. Depending on what it is...for instance, quitting my nursing job to become a writer was a HUGE fear for many reasons, but now that I've done it, I see that we can live on way less money and I can practice my passion and live more joyfully. But learning to maintain my car or figure out what to do with my totaled car is a fear that has turned into a mundane monthly task. But a mundane monthly task that I greatly appreciate! Really.
Almost exactly one month after Joel first left, February 2009, I got into an accident and totaled my car. Actually, I didn't fully total it, because it was fixable but for more than it was worth. And I had just switched us from full coverage to the bare minimum. So for me it was basically totaled. Luckily my mom never sold the old family hand-me-down, a 1994 gas-guzzling Jeep with almost 200,000 miles on it. It leaks oil and transmission fluids, it tends to veer to the right--two hands on the wheel are essential, the windows or doors (not sure which) don't seal right so there's a cold breeze and a wind tunnel sound effect even with the heat on high (the only setting the heat works), the driver's side door only opens from the outside, the motor to roll the windows up and down is questionable, especially in the cold (I have to use my hands to "help" it up--every time I get in and out of the car), the locks don't work right, and there's a kill-switch on it so the headlights have to be on in order to start the engine. A scary car for me to inherit, but now I love it. It hasn't let me down yet. Well, it did make me scream once when the kids and I were shopping for school clothes back in August and the steering wheel started to smoke. But otherwise, no problems.
And I've gotten quite adept at popping the hood and checking the fluids regularly. Actually I often have to get Nate to pop the hood because the pull thingy really sticks. But I open the hood and do all the rest of it myself. And it makes me feel so happy and accomplished...Not that I wouldn't love to have a "normal" car again, preferrably a hybrid so that I'm not polluting our earth so much. But with all it's flaws it has endured. (I had the urge to follow Frank Sinatra's voice and say, "I love it so!") And it has allowed us to pay off some of our debt before going out and buying another car that would put us more into debt. But the main point was that the car accident, the mangled car, the jeep have all played a part in helping me to be confident about taking care of my car again. A silly thing, I know, but to me it means something and it's symbolic of what all single-parents have to do in life. So that when and if we ever get a partner that will share the duties of life again, we are that much more appreciative, right?
I was about to write that I don't know why it's almost like a fear for me to have to get my oil changed or worse, to have to take it in for an unknown problem; I know it's because I don't do it unless I have to. I had to back when Donnie and I were separated and I have to now. Of course, I could've asked Donnie to help me out, but why? For as much as I didn't like to handle car maintenance and problems, I really didn't like to be dependent on anyone. And I do like a challenge. If my life is going along on an even keel and nothing is going "wrong" then I'm not challenging myself enough. I like to scare myself, even if it simply means taking care of my car. When I face my fears, they eventually become something else. Depending on what it is...for instance, quitting my nursing job to become a writer was a HUGE fear for many reasons, but now that I've done it, I see that we can live on way less money and I can practice my passion and live more joyfully. But learning to maintain my car or figure out what to do with my totaled car is a fear that has turned into a mundane monthly task. But a mundane monthly task that I greatly appreciate! Really.
Almost exactly one month after Joel first left, February 2009, I got into an accident and totaled my car. Actually, I didn't fully total it, because it was fixable but for more than it was worth. And I had just switched us from full coverage to the bare minimum. So for me it was basically totaled. Luckily my mom never sold the old family hand-me-down, a 1994 gas-guzzling Jeep with almost 200,000 miles on it. It leaks oil and transmission fluids, it tends to veer to the right--two hands on the wheel are essential, the windows or doors (not sure which) don't seal right so there's a cold breeze and a wind tunnel sound effect even with the heat on high (the only setting the heat works), the driver's side door only opens from the outside, the motor to roll the windows up and down is questionable, especially in the cold (I have to use my hands to "help" it up--every time I get in and out of the car), the locks don't work right, and there's a kill-switch on it so the headlights have to be on in order to start the engine. A scary car for me to inherit, but now I love it. It hasn't let me down yet. Well, it did make me scream once when the kids and I were shopping for school clothes back in August and the steering wheel started to smoke. But otherwise, no problems.
And I've gotten quite adept at popping the hood and checking the fluids regularly. Actually I often have to get Nate to pop the hood because the pull thingy really sticks. But I open the hood and do all the rest of it myself. And it makes me feel so happy and accomplished...Not that I wouldn't love to have a "normal" car again, preferrably a hybrid so that I'm not polluting our earth so much. But with all it's flaws it has endured. (I had the urge to follow Frank Sinatra's voice and say, "I love it so!") And it has allowed us to pay off some of our debt before going out and buying another car that would put us more into debt. But the main point was that the car accident, the mangled car, the jeep have all played a part in helping me to be confident about taking care of my car again. A silly thing, I know, but to me it means something and it's symbolic of what all single-parents have to do in life. So that when and if we ever get a partner that will share the duties of life again, we are that much more appreciative, right?
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A Different Kind of Single-Parent
Jen said that I should explain myself a bit more so that I will be more relatable; so you know exactly where I'm coming from. I hesitated to be more specific on the first Meatloaf and Growth blog for a few reasons, one of which was because I didn't want it to be about me or my situation. I wanted it to be for everyone. But after mulling it over I realized that some of the stuff I will write will not necessarily pertain to all single-parents, only those that are sailing a similar boat. And I think that's okay, but I also think Jen is right, I need to clarify just so we're all on the same lake.
My husband, Joel was laid off from his teaching job suddenly and unexpectedly back in August of 2007. His specialty is (was) physical education (K-12), but he could also teach science/biology to middle school through high school. Elementary P.E. was his favorite and the reason he chose to become a teacher. There were no teaching jobs available in any of those areas. We live in Michigan if that tells you anything. So now, he has a new career working for a branch of the federal government that, as I said, started on January 4, 2009. He lives in one state and we live in another. That was part of the hiring stipulations; that basically since they recruited him to work in a specific state, he would have to stay there for at least 2 years before requesting a transfer back to Michigan, no exceptions. We likened it to what military families do all the time, only he has the option to just leave the job. He would never do that, but it gave us comfort to know that he could if it got to be too difficult for Gracie. One of the reasons we knew that the kids and I would be staying here was because of our house. We still owe $139,000 on our mortgage and houses around here are going for easily less than $100,000, as low as $5000 on foreclosed homes. Blah, blah, blah. Boring stuff. But I'm just letting you know why we stayed. (Also because Nate's dad couldn't move...)
August of 2007 was a pivotal month for us. Around the same time Joel was laid off, I had just reduced my hours as a nurse at the hospice center I was working at because I'd finally realized that I could be a real writer and writing is what I've always loved to do and I was going to do it--I was going to write a book. And then another and another. So far I've completed one book and started two others. I've done some short stories, too. That's what I do now; I work on my writing (and searching for an agent) while the kids are at school. I have yet to earn a dime from any of it, but it doesn't matter. I love it and I will always write.
So that's why Jen came up with the "single-parent without the benefits" phrase (I asked her and she was the one that made it up) because while many single-parents get somewhat of a break when the other parent takes the kiddos for a day or two, parents like us do not have that option. But that was our choice. And everyday I am thankful that my husband has a solid job with no fears of being laid-off, he loves it and he loves all of the new and diverse friends he's met through that line of work, and our life today is so very different from the life we had only two years ago, but we are both so grateful and would not trade it.
My husband, Joel was laid off from his teaching job suddenly and unexpectedly back in August of 2007. His specialty is (was) physical education (K-12), but he could also teach science/biology to middle school through high school. Elementary P.E. was his favorite and the reason he chose to become a teacher. There were no teaching jobs available in any of those areas. We live in Michigan if that tells you anything. So now, he has a new career working for a branch of the federal government that, as I said, started on January 4, 2009. He lives in one state and we live in another. That was part of the hiring stipulations; that basically since they recruited him to work in a specific state, he would have to stay there for at least 2 years before requesting a transfer back to Michigan, no exceptions. We likened it to what military families do all the time, only he has the option to just leave the job. He would never do that, but it gave us comfort to know that he could if it got to be too difficult for Gracie. One of the reasons we knew that the kids and I would be staying here was because of our house. We still owe $139,000 on our mortgage and houses around here are going for easily less than $100,000, as low as $5000 on foreclosed homes. Blah, blah, blah. Boring stuff. But I'm just letting you know why we stayed. (Also because Nate's dad couldn't move...)
August of 2007 was a pivotal month for us. Around the same time Joel was laid off, I had just reduced my hours as a nurse at the hospice center I was working at because I'd finally realized that I could be a real writer and writing is what I've always loved to do and I was going to do it--I was going to write a book. And then another and another. So far I've completed one book and started two others. I've done some short stories, too. That's what I do now; I work on my writing (and searching for an agent) while the kids are at school. I have yet to earn a dime from any of it, but it doesn't matter. I love it and I will always write.
So that's why Jen came up with the "single-parent without the benefits" phrase (I asked her and she was the one that made it up) because while many single-parents get somewhat of a break when the other parent takes the kiddos for a day or two, parents like us do not have that option. But that was our choice. And everyday I am thankful that my husband has a solid job with no fears of being laid-off, he loves it and he loves all of the new and diverse friends he's met through that line of work, and our life today is so very different from the life we had only two years ago, but we are both so grateful and would not trade it.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Sunspots
It's no accident that part of the address to this site is, "ginassunspots". At first I tried for bright spots but it was already taken. Sunspots immediately came to my head and I knew it was perfect; better than bright spots. Sunspots are actually dark spots on the sun that are associated with strong magnetic fields. (I've always loved science.) Serendipitous, I thought, after I had typed in "ginassunspots" and saw that the name was available. The relative size of the sun's sunspots compared to the ubiquitous, bright light of the sun itself is incomparable. So it's a play on words. Since my goal was to uplift and focus on the daily blessings of single-parenting, a position that is certainly well associated with dark and difficult aspects, I thought it would be the perfect way to say, but look at all of that light? Look at all of those sunny spots. When we focus on the peaceful and loving and giving aspects of our lives, it helps us to stay that way and to attract that into our lives every single day--just like the strong magnetic fields of the sunspots.
So. Tonight, after Nate's swimming meet, I was driving home down Main Street and saw Barb's Pasties. It was a place I'd never been to, but years ago I had a patient from the U.P. tell me that Barb's is the best for authentic Yooper Pasties. Back then I worked and frequented that side of town but I never took the opportunity to try Barb's Pasties. Now, with my automobile woes of the past year I've tended to stay closer to home and had not been in that city for quite some time.
Again, if I were not acting as the lone parent, this probably would not have happened the way it did tonight. First of all, the dance class I'd signed Grace up to do on Saturdays was cancelled. The only other dance classes available were on Tuesdays at 5:30pm or Thursdays at 6pm. Nate's swim meets are also on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 6pm. I love watching Nate swim, and my nephew, too. Grace tolerates it. The dance class was a Christmas gift and something she's been asking to do for sooo long. She must tolerate having her dad live 7 states away AND riding along in the car during the weeks that it's my turn to drive the boys to and from swimming practice and meets. (She begs me to just let her stay home-she's six, so that'll never happen.) It's literally an hour and a half out of her (our) day just for the car part alone and that's just on practice days. On meet days it's a longer time spent in the car--plus the meet itself. To tell Grace that her ballet class was cancelled and that she'd have to wait months from now to join a different one? (I checked) Absolutely not.
So she recently started a half-hour ballet class that starts at 5:30 on Tuesdays. And it's not like I can watch Grace in her dance class; the doors are closed and parents sit and wait in the hall. So I read or write. Since I don't have my husband readily available to share the logistics of it, I was driving my own car, "The Jeep" (not really my own, it's technically my mom's), instead of having Cheri drive us like usual to the away meets. So when I saw Barb's I decided to pull right in to finally try those pasties.
Well, they have subs and pizza and dessert items, too. I got pasties for Nate and me, but Grace wanted something different. She decided on a sub. The bill came to $14.20. I went to grab my credit card and realized I'd forgotten to ask if they accepted them. It was a small, family-run place, I just had a sudden feeling that they only accepted cash and I was right. Well, no, not completely right: they take personal checks, too. But no credit or debit. I had exactly $8 in my purse. I had just emptied the bigger bills I'd won this weekend at Joel's mom's house in some friendly games of 4-5-6 and Screw Your Neighbor. (We played a total of 7 rounds: four games of 4-5-6 at $3/round and three games of the Neighborly one at $1 each. Nate or I won all 7 pots!) But isn't it strange that I just emptied the bills out of my purse today...?
Do you know what that nice lady said to me? (It wasn't Barb, but she was so very nice.) She told me I could just come back and pay them later! $6.20! Pay another day. She wrote my first name, just "Gina" on a tiny piece of paper with the words "owes $6.20". I was so shocked and grateful, I said, tomorrow. She said, Whenever you can get here.
Now ain't that a nice spot of sunshine?
So. Tonight, after Nate's swimming meet, I was driving home down Main Street and saw Barb's Pasties. It was a place I'd never been to, but years ago I had a patient from the U.P. tell me that Barb's is the best for authentic Yooper Pasties. Back then I worked and frequented that side of town but I never took the opportunity to try Barb's Pasties. Now, with my automobile woes of the past year I've tended to stay closer to home and had not been in that city for quite some time.
Again, if I were not acting as the lone parent, this probably would not have happened the way it did tonight. First of all, the dance class I'd signed Grace up to do on Saturdays was cancelled. The only other dance classes available were on Tuesdays at 5:30pm or Thursdays at 6pm. Nate's swim meets are also on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 6pm. I love watching Nate swim, and my nephew, too. Grace tolerates it. The dance class was a Christmas gift and something she's been asking to do for sooo long. She must tolerate having her dad live 7 states away AND riding along in the car during the weeks that it's my turn to drive the boys to and from swimming practice and meets. (She begs me to just let her stay home-she's six, so that'll never happen.) It's literally an hour and a half out of her (our) day just for the car part alone and that's just on practice days. On meet days it's a longer time spent in the car--plus the meet itself. To tell Grace that her ballet class was cancelled and that she'd have to wait months from now to join a different one? (I checked) Absolutely not.
So she recently started a half-hour ballet class that starts at 5:30 on Tuesdays. And it's not like I can watch Grace in her dance class; the doors are closed and parents sit and wait in the hall. So I read or write. Since I don't have my husband readily available to share the logistics of it, I was driving my own car, "The Jeep" (not really my own, it's technically my mom's), instead of having Cheri drive us like usual to the away meets. So when I saw Barb's I decided to pull right in to finally try those pasties.
Well, they have subs and pizza and dessert items, too. I got pasties for Nate and me, but Grace wanted something different. She decided on a sub. The bill came to $14.20. I went to grab my credit card and realized I'd forgotten to ask if they accepted them. It was a small, family-run place, I just had a sudden feeling that they only accepted cash and I was right. Well, no, not completely right: they take personal checks, too. But no credit or debit. I had exactly $8 in my purse. I had just emptied the bigger bills I'd won this weekend at Joel's mom's house in some friendly games of 4-5-6 and Screw Your Neighbor. (We played a total of 7 rounds: four games of 4-5-6 at $3/round and three games of the Neighborly one at $1 each. Nate or I won all 7 pots!) But isn't it strange that I just emptied the bills out of my purse today...?
Do you know what that nice lady said to me? (It wasn't Barb, but she was so very nice.) She told me I could just come back and pay them later! $6.20! Pay another day. She wrote my first name, just "Gina" on a tiny piece of paper with the words "owes $6.20". I was so shocked and grateful, I said, tomorrow. She said, Whenever you can get here.
Now ain't that a nice spot of sunshine?
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Power of One
One person can make a difference in our world. Like Martin Luther King, Jr.'s nonviolent activism during the African-American civil rights movement in our country (and he was inspired by Gandhi...); or, on a smaller scale, celebrities like George Clooney organizing a fundraising event for the people of Haiti; or, Ellen Degeneres reaching out to her viewers that are struggling financially; or, on an even smaller scale, but no less important, people like teachers and parents that make a difference in kids' lives everyday; one person, even one single parent, can make a difference in our world by acknowledging our interconnections to others with the simple or not-so-simple acts they initiate and follow through with everyday.
We all have the power to make a difference in our world on any scale. Acting as a single-parent, we have the unique opportunity to know implicitly, that we can do our daily work, pay the bills, run the household, raise our kids, and in our spare time, maybe even save the world, one person, one connection at a time.
We all have the power to make a difference in our world on any scale. Acting as a single-parent, we have the unique opportunity to know implicitly, that we can do our daily work, pay the bills, run the household, raise our kids, and in our spare time, maybe even save the world, one person, one connection at a time.
Friday, January 15, 2010
We See You Haiti and We Will Not Forget
I don't know why I didn't think of this 2 days ago; Wednesday morning when I saw the news of Haiti on my home page I immediately clicked to the links that led to the donation sites and chose Red Cross International to offer financial support. Yet, still, I felt like there was more I could do. All day thoughts of going down to Haiti to offer my services as a nurse ran through my head. Of course I couldn't do that with 2 kids at home and no second parent at home(Nathan's dad lives here, but it would not be feasible for him to take over care of Grace for me.). Then I briefly, but not seriously, played with the idea of taking Nathan and Grace with me. If Grace were older, maybe I would seriously consider it, but she's too young. In the meantime I've been sending them healing Reiki energy; but still, I wondered what else could I do?
Each day I asked Nate and Grace if they talked about it at school and each day the answer was no. So today I talked to Nathan about our connectedness to all people and living things. He's heard me talk about our interconnections many times, but I encouraged him to donate some of his saved money to Haiti this time. He did and then it hit me: I can encourage the readers of this blog to donate what they can. I can facilitate donations by posting links to helpful websites.
Maybe you've already donated. But I say, if you can, give a little more. Even five or ten dollars can make a difference. Maybe you are reading this a week or a month or 6 months after it happened; I'll bet they still need help. Just give what you can and then remember them again later when it's not all over the news and radio and computer home pages, and give again. Also remember that blood is a commodity that is always needed. Right now, the Red Cross is not asking for blood donors specifically for Haiti, but there is always a need. Especially for types O and B negative. If it's been awhile since you've donated blood or if you never have, now would be an excellent time to do it. Whatever we may be going through acting as a single-parent, for most of us, it does not begin to compare to what the Haitians are going through now and probably for years to come.
Here are 3 helpful links: http://www.whitehouse.gov/
http://www.redcross.org/
www.cidi.org
To borrow a phrase from James Cameron's Avatar (which I have not seen yet, but Nathan has and Grace and I will soon), we see you, people of Haiti.
Peace, love, and light to all of you.
Each day I asked Nate and Grace if they talked about it at school and each day the answer was no. So today I talked to Nathan about our connectedness to all people and living things. He's heard me talk about our interconnections many times, but I encouraged him to donate some of his saved money to Haiti this time. He did and then it hit me: I can encourage the readers of this blog to donate what they can. I can facilitate donations by posting links to helpful websites.
Maybe you've already donated. But I say, if you can, give a little more. Even five or ten dollars can make a difference. Maybe you are reading this a week or a month or 6 months after it happened; I'll bet they still need help. Just give what you can and then remember them again later when it's not all over the news and radio and computer home pages, and give again. Also remember that blood is a commodity that is always needed. Right now, the Red Cross is not asking for blood donors specifically for Haiti, but there is always a need. Especially for types O and B negative. If it's been awhile since you've donated blood or if you never have, now would be an excellent time to do it. Whatever we may be going through acting as a single-parent, for most of us, it does not begin to compare to what the Haitians are going through now and probably for years to come.
Here are 3 helpful links: http://www.whitehouse.gov/
http://www.redcross.org/
www.cidi.org
To borrow a phrase from James Cameron's Avatar (which I have not seen yet, but Nathan has and Grace and I will soon), we see you, people of Haiti.
Peace, love, and light to all of you.
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