But I already have a plan!

Our family enjoys playing board and card games very much. Tonight, we decided to play Niagara. To win, you either need to have four gems of one color, one of each color, or any combination of seven. I had three purple gems and was poised to get a fourth; in short, I was about to win. The Mailman noticed, and tried to convince Son #2 to use his move to steal my gem. "But I already have a plan!", he countered. "Yes, but your plan won't matter if Mommy wins. You have to steal her gem." "No. I have a plan, I told you." As much as I would like to think he just didn't want to steal from me and cost me the win, I know better. I owe my victory to stubbornness, not compassion.
I'll take the win, no problem. Son #2 took the heat from everyone else. "Why did you let her win?" By now you know the answer, because he had a plan. What he didn't have, and what we all often lack, was flexibility and perspective. Had my son changed his plan tonight, he might very well have ended up the winner. I wonder how often we hold ourselves back by holding on to our plans. Coming to this realization hadn't been part of my plan when I pulled out the game tonight, but as we now see, sometimes plans change.

When it all comes together

When things seem to just come together and work out perfectly, beware. This is a lesson that I fail to learn over and over again. My latest example of this begins Wednesday night. One of the charity projects I do is to knit sections of blankets that eventually end up at children's hospitals in NY and Philly. The latest one was called Beach Ball and was ready to be mailed. They each have a card enclosed to the recipient, and I wanted some great beach ball stickers to use to make mine, and I found them at Target. Woo hoo! Then, The Mailman and I stuck the kids in babysitting and had a swimming date at the Y. Again, woo hoo, and this is looking like a great evening. A little dinner, then swing by the Mt. Laurel post office, which is right on the way home and has a self serve postal thing called an APC so I can weigh and mail my package even at 8 o'clock. The only thing left to do is return the library books. Hey, look! A library! Right next to the post office. This is a perfect night indeed. I love it when everything comes together and works out just right.

Fast forward to Thursday afternoon, and The Mailman is using the computer. Once iTunes is launched to start the podcasts downloading and the fantasy baseball has been checked, it's on to managing the library. Why are my books overdue, he wonders? Oh, crap! The Mt. Laurel library is not part of the county library. Call them and ask, "What would you have done with the books I returned last night?" "You'll have to call tomorrow and check with the woman who does interlibrary loan." So now my evening of it all coming together has turned into not quite an international incident, but an interlibrary loan incident at the very least.

I should have known better. When I saw that library sitting there right next to the post office I should have turned and run. But the great and spacious building beckoned me, and I did deposit the books in the bin. I'm sure by week's end the books will be tracked down and returned, the fines will be paid, and all will be forgotten. Which means the next time it all seems to be coming together, I will probably fall for it again.

Y is for Yoga

As I mentioned yesterday, The Mailman and I have yoga class on Monday nights at the Y. In fifteen years of marriage, this has been one of my favorite things we have done together. I never knew how much fun it would be to watch the teacher demonstrate a pose, then look at each other, laugh, shake our heads and say "I don't think so." Or then to try it anyway, and, upon succeeding, turn back to each other and say, "I did it, did you?" This is how it's gone for so many poses; the Fish, the Swan, the Sun Salute, Upward Dog, Downward Dog, Cobra, Bridge, Boat, Bow. But not the shoulder stand.

The Mailman can execute a beautiful shoulder stand. It is graceful, it is elegant, demonstrating both strength and balance simultaneously. I know this because I can do little more than admire it as I struggle to lift my ample hips more than three or four inches off the mat. But it's not all in vain. The longer I lay there and struggle against gravity and 30 years of bad eating habits, the more I find to admire about him. I admire the support he offered by taking the class with me in the first place, the honest effort and dedication he has given it, the joy he has brought to it for me. I admire the flexibility of his mind that allows him to move from doing this for me to doing it for himself, to discover and embrace that he enjoys it and looks forward to it.

As I move on to the Fish, which I don't mind saying I excel at, I feel profoundly happy to have him there with me. Not just in class, but in life as well. Because life and marriage tend to be a lot like yoga class. A serious of challenges put before you that make you laugh and shake your head and say "I don't think so!" But when you push through and give it a try, you often get to look at each other and say "We did it!" And often the best part is doing it together.

Meatloaf, Smeatloaf, Double Beetloaf

What on Earth do you call meatless meatloaf? I tried to come up with the answer to this as many times as the kids asked me the question (no, not where did I come from...what's for dinner) yesterday. I settled on loaf, but being as it was Meatless Monday, they quickly decoded my response, narrowed their eyes and asked disgustedly "Does that mean it has tofu in it?" What could I say? "Yes", I confessed, as they walked off to plot their next move. Once I had served it to them, the questions began again. "What is this green stuff?" "Celery. You like celery." "What else is in it?" "Ketchup, egg, bread crumbs, onion, garlic salt, and liquid aminos. And some agave barbecue sauce on top." "Do I have to eat it?" "All of it?" "Yes, and hurry up, cause Mom and Dad have yoga class and we need to go!" So, eat it they did, and off we went. The Mailman and I ate when we got home; he asked fewer questions and declared it to be good, but was not helpful in coming up with what to call it. All in all, loaf was a moderate success, and as for the kids, well...Nothing erases the memory of Meatless Monday like bacon on Tuesday.

Who Needs a Blog?

Is what I've said to myself and anyone who dared ask me if I had one over the years. However, here I sit, posting for the first time on my very own blog. In my mind, I've elevated this moment to something grander than I'm sure it really is. While I like to think of it as some giant step forward, the beginning of a journey from which there is no turning back, the suspicion that it is much more like the proverbial tree falling in the woods with no one around to hear it lurks ominously close. For right now, though, I will bask in the reflected glow of the LCD monitor that son #2 scratched with a pin when it was nearly new and he old enough to know better. I will believe that I have done something big, something bold, and proudly answer "Yes, I do have a blog." the next time someone asks.