Good Reads: The Book of Awesome

(subtitle: Snowy Days, Bakery Air, Finding Money in Your Pocket, and Other Simple, Brilliant Things)

Stumbled into this book via the blogosphere. Neil Pasricha is the author of 1000awesomethings.com, and I will let you explore over there for his reasons/motivation for writing the book.

What I love about it (besides the title) is not even within the book's pages; it's the very idea of a book of awesome ... the inspiration to create your own, to form a giant, personal list of "Best Stuffs Ever." It takes the concept of a Gratitude Journal and turns it on its ear just a bit; these are things you might feel silly thanking God for in your evening prayers ("Thank you God, that I got the cereal-to-milk ratio just right this morning" (pg 20) or "Praise the Lord for bubble wrap" (29) or "that I got the Nintendo to work by smacking it" (42)).

Don't get me wrong: some of the observations contained are just plain BRILLIANT: "The sound of scissors cutting construction paper," and the writing hilarious: "The smell of crayons: Crack open a fresh box and get ready for a neuron-splattering head rush. AWESOME!"

It's just when you sit The Book Of Awesome down (hopefully taking a few days to read, rather than trying to ingest it all in one sitting), you start to see things differently (and really, isn't that one of the AWESOME things about books??): you start to see episodes in your life as entries in your own mental (or if you're a nerd, like me, physical) Book of Awesome. The night after reading a few pages, witnessing my husband get out clothes for the following morning, I added this:

Going for the superfluous bum-bump drawer close, even when you were just facing it with both hands outstretched. AWESOME!

I Love This: Hint Water

Ok, so buying water is not the most ecologically nor fiscally sound thing to do. BUT. If you're out and about, say, at Starbucks, or you're like me and it's sometimes to down plain ol' H2O, give this stuff a try.

I was THRILLED (and ask my peeps; this is NOT an understatement) to find a flavored water with NO ADDED SWEETENER. The company's slogan is "Drink water, not sugar." AMEN! Available in these flavors so far:

Mango-Grapefruit
Cucumber
Raspberry-Lime
Blackberry
Honeydew-Hibiscus
Watermelon
Strawberry-Kiwi
Pomegranite-Tangerine
Mango-Grapefruit
Pear
Lime

The only one I don't dig is Pear ... seems to have a funny aftertaste. But all the others I've tried have been FAB.

Be warned: your tongue will desperately dart about in your sugar-addicted mouth, trying to nab a sugar molecule. It will be disappointed. But hopefully your taste buds will be pleasantly surprised with the subtle, genuine flavor therein. Hear, hear, Hint. Hear, hear.

Foto Friday: This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. -SouleMama

My Car: My Sanctuary, My Chariot, My Office ...

I have this thing with a friend of mine; both of us would rather drive-thru and park than go into a fast food restaurant. Our husbands abhor this practice and the drive-thru in general. My Hero says eating and driving just accentuates his inability to keep his food off his shirt in the first place.

I really like my car. It's the perfect size for us as a family, it meets all my car needs (radio controls on the steering wheel, a large trunk, a bench front seat and decent cup holders). It even has the bonus of leather interior and automatic start (no heated seats or one of those limo privacy screens ... hey, a girl can dream, right?). It's a completely nondescript brown/tan color, it's relatively quiet. Right now we are having issues with fan controls 2 and 3, but otherwise it has served us well these many years. It may smell of fries, but not of milk (anymore, thank goodness).

By Friday I have quite an impressive archeological survey of the week. Wrappers, mugs, books, magazines, travel Bingo, a Leaspter, something to return to someone, the paper recycling container, school papers, some sort of project involving pipe cleaners and glitter... and always something sticky, somewhere.

I love getting into a hot car. Especially when coming out of an over-air conditioned building. Even when it's hot outside, and in about 3 minutes I will need the AC blowing full tilt ... I love that "baked car" feeling. Ok, I'm weird. I'm ok with that.

All this aside: I don't just love my car. I love BEING in my car. Upon some reflection, I suppose it comes down to control: a small, contained environment where I command the speed, the temperature and the destination. I can sit there and do nothing (which I have been known to do, when we arrive home ... stay in the parked car, recline my seat and CHILL; this, too, I believe slightly irritates my husband), I can crank up the tunes and boogie. I can "put on the banjo song" for the kids. I can change my mind at the last minute and head somewhere else, and I can "turn this car around."

What's the point? maybe I don't have one. But if you see me sitting in my car

"... please don't give a thought to me, I'm really doing fine.
You can always find me here, having quite a time."

WTH Wednesday: Rude or Not? Respond or Not?

So I was reading in Good Housekeeping, August 2010:

"The woman in front of you in the express lane has way more than 10 items. Do you point it out?" (There's a sampling of answers from readers, then the "official" answer from the advice columnist. The title of the page is "Good Advice: Everyday Manners".)

Answer One: "Yes. I would kindly say, 'You know what? Counting counts!'"
Answer Two: "No. There are more important things to worry about."
Answer Three: "Yes. I'd ask if she knew other registers take large orders."

Peggy, the "expert" says: "Yes. If you sense she might be receptive, say in a friendly tone, 'Excuse me; you probably don't realize this is an express line.' She'll either move or ignore you. If her items are already on the belt, say nothing. Or, if you have only one or two things, you could pleasantly ask to go ahead of her before her order is started."
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So I'm reading this, and I'm thinking ... When was the express lane invented? Could it be that its inception was based on a basic lack of civility? because we stopped noticing that someone behind us only had 3 things and we had a family-of-six-stocking-up-for-the-month cart? because we aren't friendly enough to ask, politely, if we might hop the line since we only have a few items? Did express lines come with the "super" market? I doubt they existed at the Five and Dime.

And honestly. "Counting counts!" Who SAYS that? How does one RESPOND to that? I am also wondering ... the two "yes's" came from a 66 and 54-year-old, successively. The "No" was from a 26-yr-old. Can I make any generational assumptions?

Look, I'm not saying it's not flat-out rude to take your cart full of stuffs to the "only 10 items" line. What I'm pondering is, truly: WHO GETS THIS BENT ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THIS? And who, in the case of a near emergency ("I'm double-parked and my daughter is screaming because her mosquito bite is bleeding she's ripped it off and I need to get this cold pack and Benadryl out there, can I hop in front of you?") can't manage to ask, politely, to be shown priority? And isn't this something you go home and fume to your friends about ("this idiot woman in front of me with the coupons flying all over and writing a check and she had at LEAST 20 items in the EXPRESS LANE") instead of making a big deal about in the store?

I'm a big fan of the rules. Truly. I try to obey them. I just don't see getting so upset when someone ELSE doesn't follow them. Am I alone here?

Button, Button, Who Has Enough Buttons?

The Great Button Experiment has begun.

This is a reward system wherein A and Z do things around the house: chores, showing kindness, having a good attitude, etc. Exercise counts, too. [Mommy is going to get in on the good attitude and exercise bit].

It's a fluid system, but there are a few guidelines.

There are mini buttons, which are worth "5". In the abstract, that's 5 minutes of screen time. We don't watch much teevee in this house, but despite this Mom-imposed virtuousness, the mere existence of the Big Black Box produces a CONSTANT barrage of viewing requests throughout the day. I am tired, quite frankly, of being the TV Nazi, and truly I don't have a problem with occasional viewing. Unfortunately I vacillate between a) saying "no" because I'm tired of being asked or b) being tempted to keep it on all day so they stay entertained and STOP FIGHTING.

Large buttons are worth "15". This is, naturally, half of a half-hour television program. I am hoping that it will catch on ... cash in these 2 buttons and watch Super Why, or do a few more things around the house and get to watch a MOVIE. Lessons in choice, consequence, work and time value. At least, I HOPE some of that gets imparted, subtly.

My challenge is going to be a) having age-appropriate tasks available for a semi-fair opportunity of button earning. Obviously I can expect more of A, but that means she will end up with more buttons ... and so I have to break larger jobs into small, very doable parts for Z to tackle. No, this is not about "everyone being the same" but rather having realistic expectations for a 3 year old and not wanting to banish him to his room when A cashes in her reward.

The future of the system: buttons can always be cashed in for REAL MONEY. This concept is of NO interest to them yet (which reveals their values at 6 and 3), but I have the feeling that will change soon enough.

We have not yet unleashed the family Christmas present: the Wii. I anticipate the button-earning to turn to frenzy. I might also need to adjust things, although I'm not sure how that will look.

Bonus GOLD buttons can be exchanged for special dates with Mommy or Daddy: dinner out, trip to the park, a bike ride, whatever. Those will be completely unearned - a lesson in grace!

Stay tuned for periodic updates on our new family experiment!

Steel Together

We got married today, eleven years ago on a BEAUtiful, clear and sunny day at Westminster College. We embarked on an adventure neither of us could have possibly imagined.

State College: August, no AC. New bed, the size of bedroom. Weird landlord, 3rd floor apt. Buy new car.

Florida: First Christmas away from folks. Drudgery of waiting for flight school. Lonliness. Cat. New couch. First plane! Dream becoming real. Chosen: E-2s. Census work! Law and Order! Cribbage in bed. Floribama, flying shrimp. Flight pattern around coffee table. Emergency Checklist review.

Texas: separated. Contested election! Ballet. Turtle slippers. Plane two.

Mississippi: Magnolias. Dut-hess. Goat cheese medallions. Walker Wedding. Turtle Crossing. Hickory Court: Hernandi Base, Maloux wine, Helmet Fire. Plane 3. Hudson's. Falling turtle shelf. Mississippi State Games. September 11. Winging. Carrier Qualifying. Basketball. Rollerblades.

Virginia: Slumlord. Barrista. New bed. Grief. SERE school. Renewal. McCrilli Base. Plane 4. EGP. Deployment. Birth. Colic. Back pain. COnfusion. Mentors. Mommy Group. Grace. Solidity. First house. Nanny. Scrapbooking. Hurricane Isabel. First Squadron. DMB, Greg Brown, James Taylor. Drywall. Cancer. Shock. Birth. Joy. Seizure. Send-off.

Pennsylvania: Home. Retire. Last New House. Life's work. Old place, new peeps. Fresh start, still carrying on.

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So, yeah. We're Steel Together. You're Steel the One. Happy 11th (Traditional: Steel) anniversary. I love you.