Mary Pielenz Hampton (aka RefreshMom) is "midlife mom" to two boys, a train-loving 9 year old and 6 year old superhero-in-the-making. She and her husband Dean will celebrate their 17th anniversary this summer. When she's not shepherding/corralling boys, she's also a friend, writer, at-home-businesswoman, bargain hunter, teacher, lover of tea, chocolate and fancy desserts (especially if made with chocolate). Her heart is looking for God in the smallest moments of life and giving praise back to Him by "turning the daily into devotion."
This morning I shared the waiting room with a chatty elderly couple. I politely pretended not to hear their conversation, but soon it became more than time-passing rambling.
“Everything would be different if he hadn’t fallen,” she said. Her husband nodded in silent agreement.
“And Eleanor. If only she hadn’t tried to put on her pants standing on one leg.” The conversation continued, listing the various people she could name who would still be in good health (or still be around at all) if they hadn’t fallen.
“Even just a little fall. That’s the key to everything. Just don’t fall.”
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“I didn’t like it today when Ella liked Tommy more than me.” My six year old had a rough time on a play date when his ‘favorite girl’ had her cousin visiting and they all had trouble making the 3-way playgroup work.
Just a few short weeks ago though, he was the one in the middle as we visited far-away friends. His closest chum from infancy hung back a bit while his sister enthusiastically did whatever Bug initiated. By the end of our visit it was clear that his buddy was feeling left out too. At the time, it was hard to get Bug to see why he needed to make more of an effort to reach out to his pal when it was easier just to play with Sis.
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It was supposed to be a lovely, leisurely Saturday morning. A fruitful stroll through the local farmer’s market, followed by lunch at our favorite cafe and a drive through the hills to a neighboring train-centric town. Something for everyone.
We could tell it wasn’t a completely typical morning downtown from the crowded parking area, but it was the shouting that seemed really out of place. (Rumor has it the film “Pleasantville” is based on this town; only smiles and friendly exchanges allowed!)
I was chagrined to see the commotion was coming from people wearing Bible verses on their shirts and carrying signs promising eternal damnation to just about everyone.
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Did you play the kids’ game “Blind Man’s Bluff?” One person would be blindfolded or close their eyes while another called out instructions to go through an obstacle course of sorts. It could be a simple journey around the front yard, or it could be a maze of the kids’ creation. It took trust to be the blindfolded one; kids don’t always play fair. The good-hearted ones would give sincere instructions, but there was always that kid who’d rather get a laugh by leading the one who trusted them right into the obstacles. Seeing it happen—even to someone else, made it harder to trust the one leading.
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“Yemulade.”
“L-l-lemonade.”
“Lemonade! Lemonade! Lemonade!”
My three year old recently graduated from saying “yemulade” to being able to say “lemonade.” It was really cute to see him bouncing up and down saying it over and over, so proud of himself for getting it right.
At about the same time, his six year old brother took off on his bike without training wheels and crossed the monkey bars without help–both in the same week. In a way, those are really small deals. But to my kids, those accomplishments matter. And that makes them important. Paying attention and celebrating those moments is where a relationship is built.
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Written on
August 25, 2009 by
Mary in
Blog
“I used to be pretty,” I thought as I caught my reflection in the cafe mirror. Hair that hadn’t been tended since that morning, puffy eyes, the area around my mouth showing the beginning of “parenthesis” (as the drug company ad calls them). I’m trying not to go into this aging process kicking and screaming or visiting plastic surgeons, but I’m not wearing each little line as a badge of honor, either.
I packed up my computer and headed over to the Christian bookstore to pick up a couple of gifts.
I was concentrating on the task at hand when a woman said something as I entered the store.
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Written on
August 11, 2009 by
Mary in
Blog
We just returned to “Sunny California” from a trip to the Northwest. Typically known for wealth of drizzly weather, our visit was anything but. We actually had the dubious honor of visiting during a week where records were smashed all over the place. No, not the obscene, vinyl, music-laden discs of my youth, but the kinds of records that can make a meteorologists’ year. I don’t think there was any record relating to high heat that wasn’t broken.
We conducted many of our activities in the shade to escape the direct frying that was taking place, but I learned that yes, you actually can get sunburned even in the shade.
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“Can I sit in your lap?” Three and a half year old Boo came to the bathroom door while I took advantage of Hubs day off to be leisurely about lather and lotion.
As I let him climb onto my lap, he wrapped his arms around my neck, tucked up his legs and pulled himself tight to me.
“You just can’t get close enough, can you?” I smiled. Boo nuzzled his curly head into my neck and looked up from under his strawberry-blond lashes, “I just like you.”
Ok, whose mother-heart doesn’t melt at that? Once again my child gave me a glimpse of how I want to be as a child of God.
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