In the 'Mood'

We teach a primary class for our local LDS church every Sunday.  There are SEVEN six-year-old boys in our class.  Some of them have special needs.  They can be surly.  They can be sweet.  It can be fun.  It can be a challenge.
  Recently, I taught a lesson about repentance and used a band-aid in an analogy for healing our spiritual wounds.  I had, in my home stash and for in-class distribution, a box of band-aids... not just any band-aids, but SUPERHERO band-aids!  I was sure this would be an enormous hit and likewise prepared myself to be thanked and praised.  The variety included: Captain America, The Hulk, Ironman, etc.  At the end of class, I offered each boy in attendance his very own band-aid.  A couple chose theirs apathetically, before one young gent spit out, "Band-aids are useless!" and rushed out the door.  Another boy thought about it for a bit before pushing my hand back, shrugging his shoulders, and announcing, "Nah, I'm not really in the mood."
  I guess my lesson was on humility.  That, and never, ever assume you know what kind of reaction a 6-year-old boy will have.  Ever.

The Girl of Your Dreams

Same scenario as the last post, different patient:
   Corpulent, early 60's, a little homely.   He was "going to the beach" and planning on having lots of "margaritas" and generally seemed very pleased with himself for creating his own dream.  The last thing he mentioned was, "Yeah, and get to see my wife in her bathing suit!"  Sweet.

Singing, singing of you...

  The operating room is cold, sterile, and uninviting.  Often, just before a patient is 'drifted off to sleep'  for a surgical procedure, we encourage them to make themselves a bit more comfortable--- if only in their mind.  Recently, a young college football player was in my care and I said something like, "Pick out a good dream to have."
   Anesthesia added as they pushed propofol, "Are you going to the Bahamas, or some place warm?"
   "Nah."  His lips rose into a gritty smirk, his eyes started to roll back, and he whispered (as if riding into the sunset that very moment), "I'm headed out West."
   Made my day.

Because it's a shame to wait until tomorrow

   I've always considered myself a goal oriented person.  In fact, in a recent interview when I was asked to give two words to describe myself, 'goal (hyphen) oriented' was one of them.  I wanted to answer 'sparkly' and 'amazing' just to see a reaction, but I digress.  I like to make lists.  I like to push myself to do things I've never done before-- big or small.
   I've deteriorated.  I've been wary of setting new goals lately, because I'm disappointed in the lack of my own follow through. Gumption.  Mojo.  Motivation.  It's not there.  While I've had more time on my hands than, well, EVER before (thank you State of New York for taking 4 WHOLE MONTHS to process one tiny RN license), I feel like I've accomplished next to nothing in that time. As the Yiddish proverb goes, "The hardest work is to go idle."  I'm hoping that I may hold myself more accountable by making a few of my goals public.  (And by NOT waiting 'til tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, when this list is more perfect or complete)  It's time to get back to work.  (No pun intended)

1)  Languages.  I have the basics of Spanish down thanks to my Argentina trip, and Rochester is one of the most densely populated areas in the US for deaf people.  The LDS services I attend are translated into both Spanish and American Sign Language.  I don't want to waste this opportunity.  By the time Matt graduates from med school, I would like to be proficient in both Spanish and ASL (and, hey, my English vocab could use some work, too).  Not sure how to break it down into 2013, but I'm starting with an ASL class tomorrow!

2)  Diet.  I want to be more conscientious of what I am putting into my body--- less processed junk, more natural and organic foods.  I gave up pop for lent last year, I'm pretty sure it's time to kick it for good.  I want to try green smoothies and cut my sugar intake.

3)  Complete a half-ironman distance (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run) triathlon.  Why not?

4)  Publish at least twice.  (Why are those essays still sitting in a folder on my desk?!)

5)  Read at least 30 (quality) books.

6)  Plan and carry out a 10 year high school reunion well worth attending.

ETC

Wish me luck!

I miss my mountains

I bought this print at the DI in Idaho for $3, intending to use the frame for some kind of project.  Amazingly, it made the cross-country trip to NY (and I'm very glad, as similar finds are few and far between and cost more like $20 here).  This isn't the best photo, but a month ago I free-handed a John Muir quote onto it and hung it in 'the brunch nook'.  I love it.  Who knew I'd use the print, too?!  I'm growing to appreciate the scenery around Rochester, but I miss my Idaho mountains.

Liz the Ragamuffin

Today Matt and I went to Marshall's to buy Matt some new church/school shoes. I looked in a store mirror and my first thought was 'you look like an orphan'. All those times my mother used 'orphan' and 'ragamuffin' in a sentence while simultaneously wiping my face with a spittle-laden kleenex are not lost on me.   I had been wearing a beanie, and currently need a haircut, but I'm still amazed at the small things that stick.  I'm sure one day I'll have some orphans of my own.

Hide not your talents...

Matt has a habit of absent-mindedly singing church hymns or primary songs.  Sometimes he just steals the melody and inserts his own lyrics.  I should have been writing these down from day 1.  I like this because:
1) I always like to listen to Matt sing
2) Sometimes it's really touching
3) But most of the time it's just funny
Today he informed me we were cleaning up the house.  A few minutes later while he folded laundry he sang, "I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain..."

Just one of those little things that makes me happy.