high cost of a quick fix...

In the movie, As Good As It Gets, Jack Nicholson's character says, "people who speak in metaphors can shampoo my crotch" and I happen to agree with the sentiment.  Metaphors are annoying, even more so when they're accurate.  

And so my tiling problems are also relationship woes.

Bare with me.

Here we go....And the miraculous thing about miracle cures is that they rarely cure anything at all...

I globbed this gluey substance on a pointless, seeping shelf in this shower of mine and it promised to prevent leaks, but it took very little of my time and cost very little of my money and worked, well, it worked not at all.

I googled grouting and found this detailed, tedious route to caulking that gave me tiling nightmares.  No kidding.   

So what am I left with?

Shoot - the middle ground.  How dull.   Somewhere between the quick fix and the all day labor lies the answer.

Not the simplest cure, nor the most daunting task, but somewhere in between a nightmare and a quick fix rests the solution, for tile, for shower leaks, for cracking grout and for every single, ingle thing-le.  

Because we're all just tiled together, we're all mosaics, bits and pieces held in place by some thick substance, added onto over time and tacked together with cement, glue, spit and love, collagen, ligaments and maybe some butter or olive oil.

We're all structures in need of repair or remaking at different times and there may well be no easy answer and the good news is, it doesn't have to be so hard to find the solution.   There is this lovely place called middle ground which I can't help but liken to somewhere along the lines of "Stepford", but thats not fair at all.

When something is leaking like a sieve or squeaking like a wheel it needs attention, but knowing how much is the hard part and giving too little leads to a certain result and giving too much is almost as detrimental as too little, because giving too much takes away from who we are and leaves us with less then... 

The middle ground, as lacking in passion as it seems, is really the place where you can be the most creative, the most alive and even the most in-love, in every regard.   In the middle area, you're more free to experiment, not taxed too the max and not happy-go-f-cking lucky.  You're in reality and you're invested, but not enslaved.   When you temper things out, you can actually feel connected, be in reality, aware of your situation and then you can deal with anything.

So whether I'm solving a caulking issue or a talking issue, I hope to find the do-able midland.

The space between easy and hard is where you'll find me waiting for you.

Candidly Speaking...

Candor: being blunt, frankness, sincerity in dialog...

She can go a day without speaking in school and thats something that concerns me.

When parents ask how their children's day was, they don't typically hear a detailed litany on who smelled like what; spaghetti, tacos, wet dog, sneakers, Doritos, sour milk, bubblegum and so on.

Parents might also not hear, "I didn't say a word all day". 

They also might not cope with this reality as often as I have, "No one spoke to me today."

Parents hopefully rarely have to cajole their kids as they drop them at school; "Try to say something to someone today Babe and Honey, If you know the answer, raise your hand and say it if you get called on." 

Parents often have to ask their children not to talk so much.

Quietness.

Perhaps thats not such a bad thing considering what happens when she does speak freely and candidly on occasion.

Our sweet peanut of a neighbor rang the bell today and my precious pudding of a daughter answered.

"Wanna play?", asked the child from next door.

"No", said mine.

"Oh.  Later maybe?"

"Maybe, but probably not."

"Tomorrow maybe?", our neighbor asked hopefully.

"Maybe, but maybe not ever anymore since we're moving and maybe I won't ever see you again".

My child turned around then and looked at me, my mouth open wide, hands wringing the dying dish towel in my hands, momentarily infuriated and also stunned by her seeming lack of compassion toward our endlessly friendly neighbor.

Door closed and lets all hope another one doesn't open any time soon.

Not until I can drill into her head how honesty though very valuable may not prove as worthwhile as kindness.

Just when I think that packing is my most daunting task, I am jolted back into my true job in life.  My purpose as the mother of a child with Asperges is to help her connect with others in the best way she can manage to.

Not so easy.  

I'd rather pack a castle full of crystal then tactfully find a way to educate my child on how to communicate authentically but in a not so offensive manner while remaining honest, which I recognize is one of her very best, innate character traits.

Mainstream...

So we role play and I ring the doorbell and she answers it and I, on my knees say, "Wanna play?" and she says, "Yes".  

Exasperated, I tell her, "Baby you are supposed to say NO."   

I want to show her how it feels to be rejected.  I want her to learn how to be a little less harsh.

"But mom, I do actually want to play with you", she says, apparently confused.

And so I puzzle through this as I don't pack very much.   I wonder what my life would have been like if I always said what I meant and meant what I said.   

Where would I be if I said no instead of yes when no was in fact my truth? 

They say that in reality we control very little in our lives.

Some believe in fate.

Some have faith.

Some look to psychics.

Many just barrel down the road before them and deal with what lies ahead.

Some hide.

Others find someone to blame for what does and doesn't happen.

Maybe we should all just say what we mean and mean what we say and do what we want when we want to and not when we don't?

Try as I might, I can't find a way to teach my child to be less honest.

Try as I might, I can't find all that much wrong with honesty, except maybe it leaves you lonely at times - and lonely is something I can't bare for her.

If I had three wishes from some genie in some bottle they'd be...

1) Let her say what she feels

2) Let her feel what she says

3) Give everyone ears to listen when she speaks

Maybe her purpose in life is to teach me and not so much the other way around.

If I could steal a fourth wish, I'd ask to speak directly to the top guy, the big boss, I'd ask him to hear me and I'd once again say, "Thank you God for lending me this girl".

pointless treasures

 I saw this heart shaped stone last week while walking away from the beach...

My hands were full.  I had so darn much to carry, but I put a few things down and picked up the rock.  I showed it to someone, she smiled.

A smile producing stone must be held onto.

I kept it in the palm of my hand and grabbed my bags, chair, other things and on I went, following behind another friend who pulled a gosh darn wagon full of beach things up the long, winding, steep incline. 

I placed it on my kitchen counter.   Left it there.  Why?   I don't know.

I don't know why I do a lot of things.

Yesterday I resisted the irresistible.  

Pots and pans on sale, 4th of July sale, now that's something hard to walk away from, but I did.

Instead of pot shopping I ran away to the mountains for 24 little hours.

I kinda almost sorta want to punish myself for leaving my pre-moving chores undone for one more day.  

Bad girl.

  I should be and could be frustrated with myself and I am, but yet I'm not.  

I'm not.  

I'm frustrated but not with myself.

I'm frustrated by life and it's magnetism...

I'm frustrated by beauty and by water, 

 luck, change, altitude, dogs that bite, passing cars,

by temperature, paper, hoarseness, love and other awful things.  Frustrated by how much more I miss my children once they come home.  Frustrated by time and how slowly it blows by

and other amazing things.

If there were no heart shaped stones to pick up and admire, I'd be more efficient and always accomplish everything. 

Maybe.

Life could stand to be a heck of a lot less irresistible...