Steve has gotten into the habit of signing me up for classes
in lieu of traditional gifts for birthdays and holidays. I love it because I’m a terrible person to
buy for. I’m not “fancy” as Natalie
often tells me. I have one purse that I’ve
had for almost two years. It’s not a
designer bag and I’ll keep using it until it can no longer serve its
purpose. My feeling is, if I don't have $200 to put in my wallet, I have no business carrying a purse costing that
much. I’m not a clothes horse. I have a couple of outfits I feel really good
in and much of the rest is “mom wear” consisting of jeans and T-shirts. I love shoes, but comfort comes first. I have a well-worn pair of Sketchers that I
trade off with my tennis shoes depending on my mood.
Which brings me to the classes he has signed me up for in
the past…like belly dancing. Now, I take
partial blame for this one, because I may have been the one to put the idea in
his head in the first place. I’m pretty
sure it was during an argument in which I was moaning about needing a higher
purpose than being the only one in the house who can run the dishwasher, find a
pair of matching socks or has been educated in the ways of when to change the
toilet roll. During the heat of the
exchange he asked, “Well, what do you want to do?!” Belly dancing may have slipped out. Ok, so I’m not the best under pressure. If you want to win a million dollars, DO NOT ask me to be your lifeline. Anyway, there’s a reason chicks like me don't belly dance. As I tried to imitate the instructor’s moves I realized my body had no shake, which kinda makes you look just plain silly. Not to mention, the class was held at a community rec center with big, clear windows for anyone passing by to stand and gawk at…I’m talking to you, Mr. Sweatin’-to-the-Oldies-man. Sigh…so instead of hurting Steve’s feelings because it really was a sweet gesture, I continued to go. Only instead of actually going to the class, I spent the remaining weeks hiding out at Big Lots.
So, thanks Steve for pushing me to do things outside my
comfort zone that have helped me grow in ways I never could have imagined
for myself. The Rules We Live by is a
poem (my first ever!) I created during that fall workshop series.
The Rules We Live By
Always three
things on his plate
Don’t let the foods touch.
Always round
meals chosen
Don’t serve spaghetti.
topic of speech
Don’t talk about
sports
Always fewfriends and invites.
Don’t bring up
recess.
Always struggleswith recall
Don’t ask about his
day.
Always concretewith his thoughts
Don’t expect him to
read between the lines.
Always Velcrofasteners selected
Don’t ask him to tie his shoes.
Always focused
on the details
Don’t ask him about the plot.
Always riseson the details
Don’t ask him about the plot.
before dawn
Don’t stay up for
Letterman.
Always answershonestly
Don’t forget to wear
thick skin.
Always pure
in his heart
Don’t
dash his superhero dreams.Always pure
in his heart
Always loving
hugs me freely
Don’t forget to pinch
myself.hugs me freely
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThanks for being my #1 fan.
DeleteAndrea,
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your story with us. It's comforting to see that other families have some of the same struggles. And thank you for reminding us to see the beauty and humor in our lives!
Thanks for reading. Us Moms have to stick together!
Delete