Puppies

Okay I have a puppy here for one day.  Her name is Maggie and she is a birthday gift for my Dad.  She has all the right combinations of soft puppy fur, puppy breath, cute little eyes, and sweet nature.

Not hard to guess I will have a pang or two giving her to her new home tomorrow is it?

When I was about 6 years old *my* dog Susie had a litter of puppies.  One died shortly after birth and was the only identical twin puppy I ever saw, but she had a cleft palate and didn't make it.  Her twin died a few days later I assume from a birth defect as well.

My sister Laura and I had the basket of puppies in our room and I loved, really loved, those little pups.  I spent hours and hours holding and cuddling them, and I would never embarrass Laura by telling you that we tried to breastfeed them, but suffice it to say my mom was nursing my little brother at about that time.  Just sayin'.  I would put them all in my bed with me and try to sleep with all of them at once.  Warm little puppy bodies seemed like a perfect sleep aid to me.

I have a pretty strong soft spot for puppies.  I mean who doesn't.  But...it brings back all those sweet childhood memories (well maybe not the puppy teeth+trying to breastfeed thing, but otherwise...) of me and my sister and my childhood dog Susie.

Meet Maggie!

       

Attacked for Motives We Never Employed.

Someone accuses you of lying.  You didn't.  You are accused of stealing.  But you didn't.  A friend accuses you of gossip or betraying a confidence.  You wouldn't.

More insidious are the times where there is no accusation.  But the unspoken assumption.  Impossible to confront and refute.  It so frustrating.  We are judged by standards that simply don't apply.  Misunderstood based on a reality that is not ours.  Attacked for motives we never employed.  A truism I have understood for a long time but is difficult to explain for some reason.  I suspect because people don't want to see this tendency in themselves and maybe also because they honestly don't see the aberration in the assumptions.

People impart to your motives the very same standards that they set for themselves.  If you have a friend who is prone to lying; they will assume you lie.  If you interact with someone who gossips and seems unaware of the ugliness of it, they will take it for granted that you do too.  Whatever standard they have set for themselves as normal, they believe is normality.  A family that presumes that anger is the typical reaction to perceived injustice will impart that  to your motives by default.

They expect you to behave, feel and respond in the way that they believe is normal.  Even if it is not.

As part of my New Years resolutions this year I decided to work on thickening my skin without becoming calloused.  Because of this particular tendency in some people I find it important to find ways to deal with the increasing assumptions and accusations that I have to manage.   This one is a tough one to deal with.  The Bible says that as far as it is up to us we should live at peace with everyone. (Rom 12:18)

I think that the only solution is to learn how to not allow those types of assumptions and accusations *in*.  Not allow them into our hearts to hurt us which is easier said than done.  Sometimes understanding the complexity of why people believe what they do about you helps to shake it off though.

And maybe one day you can help them understand the mistake.

Martin Luther King, prejudice, sexism

Martin Luther King.  Now there is a man I truly and deeply admire.  That man had a dream and even though he was killed far too young, his dream carried on posthumously.  We took up his torch and carried it for him and his dream is little by little being fulfilled.  We have come so far since he spoke those famous words.

I was not raised in a very prejudiced part of the country and yet even I was raised with ideas that seem shocking and horrifying to me today.  The little poems and ditties, songs and assumptions.  It completely shocks me when I remember how casually I used them.  So shocking that I can't even tell you what they were!  I can tell you that as a child I remember, vividly remember, feeling so lucky, so blessed to be born white and Mormon; too bad I was a girl.  I was born in 1962 and literally grew up with and alongside the Civil Rights Movement.

I remember listening to conversations among the adults about how they would never go to a woman doctor or work for a woman boss.  I remember hearing about how a black family would ruin our neighborhood, and that we should always marry our own kind.  I listened to adults around me talking about what bad drivers women were and how comical it was to assume they could drive as well as a man.  I heard talk about how black people had different bodies and that was why they could dance better or play sports better and that it was a compensation for the lesser brain.  I watched Cinderella as a little girl and knew I was not good enough to be a princess because I had big feet and can't sing a note;  I was much more like the ugly stepsisters.  I remember the riots and the conversations about why it was so bad to integrate the schools.

I remember.

I am so proud of the men and women who stood up and fought against these pervasive attitudes.  I am blessed to live today in a world where it is greatly improved.  But it is not gone.  Not by any stretch.  My son took a picture in Columbia, North Carolina a few months ago of the confederate flag flying over the state capitol building.  What sort of a message does that send?  Wow.  Just wow.  How horrifying that in 2012 we live in a country that would allow such blatant symbols of prejudice and hate.

I do not understand what it means to be the target of that kind of prejudice that, especially black, people in the south experience.  But I get little tastes of it now and then as a female CEO.  There are not many of us.  It is a tough job and I get criticisms that my male counterparts would not.  Yes.  Even today in 2012 women are discriminated against.  I do think that there are fewer positions where that happens, but a CEO is one of them. and I think it makes me a better person; a better human being.  Certainly a better white person.  Certainly a better person than I might have been.

I am glad that men like Dr. King opened my eyes.  I am grateful that he helped me to see the ugliness that I had accepted as normal.  I am so indebted to those that paid a price so that others could grow past it.

I believe that Martin Luther King helped to pave the way for me too.  And I am grateful to him.

Another confession...Do I need to duck?

I don't like football.  I have never liked football.  I don't understand the appeal of it and I doubt I ever will.  I have tried to watch it and have enjoyed a few five minute segments along with most of the Superbowl commercials, most not all.

Here is the problem.  I could tell you where most of the teams are located.  I can name several football players.  I can tell you what stadium several teams play in and I can even identify some team colors and mascots.  Sigh.  How does that happen?

I admit that I am enjoying Tim Teebow this year.  What a refreshing change to see a young man who has his own opinions and stands up for them, even though they are radically different from the norm.  Not at all sure that counts as enjoying football per se, but I do find myself rooting for the Broncos for having such good taste in recruiting,  well that and I lived in Denver for a couple of years so...

I think the football frenzy has calmed some from what it was 15-20 years ago and for that I am grateful.  I am also grateful that someone thought to sell tomatoes on the vine in the grocery store so they taste better.  Those other tomatoes are just nasty tasting and certainly not worth the exorbitant prices they charge.  But I digress.

Where was I?  Oh yeah...football.  No wonder I lost my train of thought.

I do think that God chose the right husband for me.  In over 20 years, he has never once, no never, worried about missing a game or even really cared.

Seeing the World in Black and White

A few minutes ago I was sitting in my family room watching a movie when two wet giggling little girls came and stood in front of me.  One daughter age 8 and one granddaughter age 6 had been doing the dinner dishes when it seems that a water fight broke out.  Prior to that they had been in there developing secret handshakes, singing together and giggles were all over the place.

I pictured my kitchen dripping, and the dishes not done, and the mess that was sure to be there and...chose to laugh with them.  I could have gotten mad at them.  I could have punished them for disobeying.  I could have scolded them for being silly instead of getting the dishes done, and honestly there was a time when my oldest kids were very young that I thought being consistent and keeping firm rules was more important to their future than anything else.  I wanted to be a good mom.

I still do want to be a good mom.  I was a good mom back then, but I think we all missed out on a lot of fun times that we could have had by me learning when to flex and when to not.  It is a trick and one that I have learned to do better.

Would I have chosen to laugh if the same girls had been naughty and disobedient all day long?  Probably not.  But they were cheerfully doing the task I had assigned, when some Fun showed up.  What were they going to do?

I know a lot of moms who miss it; who are so focused on the rules that they forget that the joy in our lives resides in the playtime and that we need to be silly, laugh and play.  This is where we gain the kids' trust and their hearts.  Rules are important.  They are.  So is grace, joy and love.  Schedules are important.  They are.  So is the ability to flex your time for a friend in need.  A clean house is important.  It is.  So is cuddle time, rest, and sometimes...

A water fight in the kitchen.

Cassie and the Canary

 

So I have a story to tell you today.  We have a cat.  Her full name is Cassie Tuna (pronounced in true 3 year old little girl fashion as Cathy Tuna) but we just call her Cassie.  She is a sweet, petite little thing weighing in at about 7-8 pounds and is a striped tabby with beautiful gold rings around her eyes.

We didn't choose to have a cat.  After the cat I had for 11 years (before I had Pete!) died, we decided that his allergies made having a cat not really worth it for him.  So we didn't get another one.  Oh we had offers for kittens over the years, but always had to say no, no matter how cute they were.  One winter we had a stray cat have her kittens in our garage, and we let them stay.  They never let us get near them, but at least they were warm.  Once in a while we would find evidence that one of them had gotten somehow from the garage into the house, but never near us.  This is relevant because we never could figure out how those cats got from the garage into the house.

One night about 5 years ago in the middle of the night Amanda and Rachael came panicking into our room!  "Dad!  Someone is playing the piano and no one is there!"  Pete got up and investigated and found nothing and no one.  Ernie, our ever-vigilant watchdog, had not notified us of anything and we all decided maybe they had dreamed something.

The next night...the same thing!

The next night after that Rachael woke up screaming!  Pete ran downstairs and he found...laughing girls and a cat.  Apparently little half-grown Cassie had used whatever entry the other cats had found (was she maybe related to them from a couple years before?) and after a couple of forays into the house the previous two nights tiptoeing across the piano keys, she had decided to have a little cuddle with Rachael in her nice warm bed while she slept.

We tossed her out the door assuming she belonged to someone since she was clearly not feral.  She was back the following night.  Again.  And again she came back.  It became clear that we had two, and only two choices.  Either take her to the shelter, or keep her.  Rachael was not having allergy problems and neither was Pete so...Cassie was named and stayed.

One day Jake and David found her first *gift*.  If you have ever had a cat you know that they take providing for their family very seriously.  She had brought mouse to them and literally tossed it, live, to them while they were in their room.  I explained to them that this was her being affectionate and since we have always struggled with a mouse problem in this house it was a great thing that she was dealing with them!  I told them how a cat would leave gifts for her family and relayed some anecdotes of gifts I have received over the years.

Some months before Jake, Rachael and David had spent a whole summer earning money for a gift for me.  A beautiful yellow singing canary.  He lived in a cage in our family room on a shelf.  The very next day after telling Jake and David about her gift of the mouse, Jake came upstairs.  On his face was a look of horror and dismay, and a little grief.  In his hand my completely intact and bloodless, yet no less dead, beautiful pet canary.  Cassie had given Jake my bird as a gift in his shoe.

It was hard to be too mad at her.

And it Plays a Food on TV.

I bought fruit loops for breakfast this morning.  Not that I think it is food, but my grandkids are over and it is a treat and it plays a food on TV.

No one can accuse me of being a health nut.  But we do try to limit sugar, and eat food that is...well...food.  This was brought home to me last night in a hysterical way when I saw a commercial featuring a family of four (because all real families have either two or three children on TV.  Maybe we need more parents at my house?) sitting at a table laughing and conversing with one another, white cloth napkins and water goblets visible, and shallow soup bowls filled with Chef Boyardee Ravioli.  The commercial was bent on showing how this Italian chef had revolutionized Cincinnati, or somewhere, in the 30s or 40's by his willingness to bottle his tasty old Italian recipes for his restaurant customers and today you can feed your family these same foods.  Yep.  Chef Boyardee Ravioli IS that Old World Italian dish!  Who would have guessed?   You too can feed your family this authentic, wholesome food for dinner tonight, and only $1.59 for the family sized can!

Do you know what this MEANS?  It means that there is room on the family table for Spaghettios!