A Different Point Of View
An angry and raging back has me on an unplanned day of rest at home. I am supposed to be at work. I WANT to be at work. I am NOT at work....harumph. I don't like not being there, I don't like calling in. I always feel like "it's not that bad, get over it, get to work...."
But, when it is a challenge to walk upright, one has to swallow one's desires.
So here I am, home alone.
Dean and Mr. B. are away at an overnight Junior Band Camp at Christopher Lake.
My morning was QUIET. The only person I spoke to was my chiropractor, booking an appointment.
That quiet is rare. Dean works from home, so mornings home alone never happen. There is always someone else in the room and while it's not always full of chatter, their presence fills in the gaps, in conversation or in silence. This morning's silence was different.
It was absolutely silent.
Once I got over my initial frustration with being at home, my mind started zooming through things on my "to-do" list.
Gardening - um, nope, can't do it.
Laundry - lifting and stairs? Can't do that either.
Grocery shopping - hmm, lifting, pushing uncooperative over sized grocery carts. No.
Cleaning the tub (that I found to be dirtier than I thought when trying to stave off a sore back 2 days ago) - yeah, right....bending, leaning, reaching. Nope.
Cross stitch - okay, hunching over a piece of cloth all day? Not good either.
Well, well.
What is one to do, then, at home, all alone, incapable of chores and jobs and duties.
....REST....
Foreign concept. A different point of view.
Sigh.
Thanks, I think I will.
About that garden - it sure makes a nice spot to store the trailer. Now THERE's a different point of view. My mind wickedly entertains the notion of not gardening this year. Wouldn't that lighten the summer up a whole bunch! But, I'd have to tell my mother. It would shock her into next Tuesday. And I'd still have to hoe the silly spot. Seems hoeing around a few potato plants might be more fun than hoeing an empty space.
Mr. A. stood at the end of my bed, initiating a chat the other day. Seems that he feels we don't have enough family-togetherness time lately. I am ALL EARS at this revelation. I'm a little confused at this comment coming from a teenager who often acts like the last thing he wants to do is to be in the presence of his mama. But, I get what he's saying. (However, when he pointed the source of disappointment back to "it's not been the same since Ben was born...." I did have a little chuckle.) This parenting a teenager thing is challenging. And he's challenged me to pay attention to him, even when he doesn't appear to outwardly welcome it all the time. Inwardly, he's begging for it. And I'll not make this kid beg for something so easy to give. I'm determined to be more present and available.
Mr. B. turns 12 this Sunday. Circumstances have prevented him from having a party with his friends for the last 2 years. Well, to be a little more clear on that statement - in 2011 - he just happened to have about 65,000 people around him celebrating that birthday when we attended the U2 concert in Edmonton. I thought that was a rather sufficient (and let's say expensive as well) celebration, considering he dressed up as Bono for Halloween one year and loves their music. 2012 - Ignite - a youth retreat at camp with the whole youth group and many more friends from afar - that wasn't such a bad way to celebrate either. But this year, turning 12, I HAD to make sure that he had a proper party. The kind where you invite some of your favorite friends to hang out with you on your own turf and make a big deal about Ben and all of his special quirks that make him so uniquely "Ben".
We started making plans for his party. With great relief, these parties get less fussy as they get older. Food, friends, hang out time....that's about it. He wanted it to be a mixed party - some of his best friends are girls. I'm good with that so we invited and people responded and we planned and purchased and plotted.
Then he told me about his plan for the cake.
Ben - "Angel Food."
Me - "Of course."
Ben - "And can you decorate it to be a princess cake?"
Um.
Me - "What?"
Ben - "Yeah, I think that would be funny!"
Me - "Are you SURE?"
Ben -"YES!"
So, on the occasion of my son's 12th birthday, I baked an angel food cake, iced it with pink icing, placed a tiara on top, silver beaded garland around the side, pink butterflies and candles around the tiara, and put a "have a princess filled birthday" banner along the side. We kept the final results hidden from Ben until the party. I prefaced the cake reveal with "Ben asked for this" and then, gulping all the way, lit the candles and carried the princess cake to the table, much to the delight of his friends - who shrieked, howled and giggled for the next 5 minutes. And Ben lapped it up. The tiara flew off the cake and onto his head and stayed there for the next hour.
And as the evening progressed, I sat there and reflected on this boy named Ben who is not afraid to step out and be bold and daring and unique and silly.... with no apology or fear.
But, when it is a challenge to walk upright, one has to swallow one's desires.
So here I am, home alone.
Dean and Mr. B. are away at an overnight Junior Band Camp at Christopher Lake.
My morning was QUIET. The only person I spoke to was my chiropractor, booking an appointment.
That quiet is rare. Dean works from home, so mornings home alone never happen. There is always someone else in the room and while it's not always full of chatter, their presence fills in the gaps, in conversation or in silence. This morning's silence was different.
It was absolutely silent.
Once I got over my initial frustration with being at home, my mind started zooming through things on my "to-do" list.
Gardening - um, nope, can't do it.
Laundry - lifting and stairs? Can't do that either.
Grocery shopping - hmm, lifting, pushing uncooperative over sized grocery carts. No.
Cleaning the tub (that I found to be dirtier than I thought when trying to stave off a sore back 2 days ago) - yeah, right....bending, leaning, reaching. Nope.
Cross stitch - okay, hunching over a piece of cloth all day? Not good either.
Well, well.
What is one to do, then, at home, all alone, incapable of chores and jobs and duties.
....REST....
Foreign concept. A different point of view.
Sigh.
Thanks, I think I will.
About that garden - it sure makes a nice spot to store the trailer. Now THERE's a different point of view. My mind wickedly entertains the notion of not gardening this year. Wouldn't that lighten the summer up a whole bunch! But, I'd have to tell my mother. It would shock her into next Tuesday. And I'd still have to hoe the silly spot. Seems hoeing around a few potato plants might be more fun than hoeing an empty space.
Mr. A. stood at the end of my bed, initiating a chat the other day. Seems that he feels we don't have enough family-togetherness time lately. I am ALL EARS at this revelation. I'm a little confused at this comment coming from a teenager who often acts like the last thing he wants to do is to be in the presence of his mama. But, I get what he's saying. (However, when he pointed the source of disappointment back to "it's not been the same since Ben was born...." I did have a little chuckle.) This parenting a teenager thing is challenging. And he's challenged me to pay attention to him, even when he doesn't appear to outwardly welcome it all the time. Inwardly, he's begging for it. And I'll not make this kid beg for something so easy to give. I'm determined to be more present and available.
Mr. B. turns 12 this Sunday. Circumstances have prevented him from having a party with his friends for the last 2 years. Well, to be a little more clear on that statement - in 2011 - he just happened to have about 65,000 people around him celebrating that birthday when we attended the U2 concert in Edmonton. I thought that was a rather sufficient (and let's say expensive as well) celebration, considering he dressed up as Bono for Halloween one year and loves their music. 2012 - Ignite - a youth retreat at camp with the whole youth group and many more friends from afar - that wasn't such a bad way to celebrate either. But this year, turning 12, I HAD to make sure that he had a proper party. The kind where you invite some of your favorite friends to hang out with you on your own turf and make a big deal about Ben and all of his special quirks that make him so uniquely "Ben".
We started making plans for his party. With great relief, these parties get less fussy as they get older. Food, friends, hang out time....that's about it. He wanted it to be a mixed party - some of his best friends are girls. I'm good with that so we invited and people responded and we planned and purchased and plotted.
Then he told me about his plan for the cake.
Ben - "Angel Food."
Me - "Of course."
Ben - "And can you decorate it to be a princess cake?"
Um.
Me - "What?"
Ben - "Yeah, I think that would be funny!"
Me - "Are you SURE?"
Ben -"YES!"
So, on the occasion of my son's 12th birthday, I baked an angel food cake, iced it with pink icing, placed a tiara on top, silver beaded garland around the side, pink butterflies and candles around the tiara, and put a "have a princess filled birthday" banner along the side. We kept the final results hidden from Ben until the party. I prefaced the cake reveal with "Ben asked for this" and then, gulping all the way, lit the candles and carried the princess cake to the table, much to the delight of his friends - who shrieked, howled and giggled for the next 5 minutes. And Ben lapped it up. The tiara flew off the cake and onto his head and stayed there for the next hour.
And as the evening progressed, I sat there and reflected on this boy named Ben who is not afraid to step out and be bold and daring and unique and silly.... with no apology or fear.
 |
| Photo courtesy Dean Dynna |
This boy who knew that a princess cake could be over-the-top fun. The boy, from whom one can expect the unexpected, because he pays attention and sees the world from his own point of view.
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| Photo courtesy Dean Dynna |
Kinda makes me wanna step out sometimes, too, into the unexpected, the unusual, the unique. Predictable can be so safe and dull.
Challenged yet? I am.
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