Thursday, April 29, 2010

Making an Impact

Growing up, my dreams evolved but one constant theme stuck. I always wanted to make an impact. To have a big dent in this world stamped with "Amber was here".

It started rudimentary enough with dreams of becoming Optimus Prime, which led to Wonder Woman, Bruce Lee, an astronaut, and all the way to being an FBI Agent. As you can guess, those career ideas didn't really pan out for various reasons:
  • Optimus Prime = not an alien robot
  • Wonder Woman = born in US and not in a super female Amazonian tribe
  • Bruce Lee = lacked required parts and nationality
  • Astronaut = eyesight and motion sickness
FBI Agent...well, now that one was possible. It ended up being the top profession in my aptitude test and all my scores placed me as a prime candidate if that path had...well, let's just say for a long time a small part of me thought I'd failed myself. That I'd not reach my life potential.

Just a small seed, but we all know small seeds fester.

It was some time before I realized everything worked for a reason. I had this hidden mom gene inside that needed to bust through (blast through really). There was this creative and artistic streak that was slowly being smothered by my analytical side. There was this sense of family, nesting, and community slowly suffocating by my need for privacy and solitude.

Now, so many years later, I've started to feel comfortable in my own skin and have built a niche in the world. Not the big moon size crater I'd planned, but a more meaningful and deeper one than I'd ever imagined.

It's hard to take when dreams get dashed, sliced, or dissipate but there really is a reason. Sometimes what you most want isn't what you most want and you don't realize it until the real thing you've been wanting comes along.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

No is an Answer

Dr. M looks at us and smiles, "Okay. Height, weight all good and in the 90th percentile. Eyesight excellent. Hearing excellent..."

"Really?" Hubby and I say together in surprise.

"Yup. He's just got a case of selective hearing. Very common I find." Dr. M smiles and turns back to Holy Terror sitting on the exam table.

She goes through the usual physical. Thyroids, joints, ears, belly, and so on. There's a bit of awkwardness with the...well, you parents of boys know that part...

Still reeling from this bit of "weirdness" Dr. M has him stand up and plant his feet, then stands behind him and says, "Okay, now bend over and touch your toes."

"No," Holy Terror gives his - very successful - icy stare and steps away to face her.

"I just have to check your spine."

"No." He's got his shoulders stiffened and looks ready to defend his boundary at any further provocation.

I've been through this before with my oldest and am trying very hard not to burst into laughter. My husband's eyes are gleaming with amusement.

Hubby takes the lead and leans towards Holy Terror, man-to-man like. "Dr. M just needs to see if your spine's straight, Buddy."

"No." It's all very black-and-white, no nonsense here. No.

"Okay. No pressure. What about I see if the ear flusher is ready and come back?" Dr. M gives me a smile over Holy Terror's head and starts to step out. She's been with us since the first and is completely amazing.

I have Hubby hand me Holy Terror's pants. I hold them out to him. "What if we have your pants on? Then will you let her see your back?"

He stares at the pants for a moment and then nods. "Ok."

Now, if he'd still said no...

Monday, April 5, 2010

Mash Potato Flames

Super Wy pokes at his mash potatoes and then looks up at me with his brightest "please" smile.

"Me outta mustard." His smile brightens a notch.

(Notice he doesn't ask for anything to go with the mustard...he just eats the mustard El solo.)

"Not until you finish your veges and potatoes."

Disgust flashes across his face for a millisecond before it turns grave. "No. Can't. They make fire on my tongue."

"What?" I ask, incredulous. "The mash potatoes will light your tongue on fire?"

He nods his head slowly up and down and looks very seriously at me. "Yeah."

...Can't Super Wy come up with a non-drama reason to NOT eat his mash potatoes? Of course not.