Things Said to Me

I worked yesterday at my little consignment store. I worked the middle shift, which is noon until 7 p.m., so I worked with both Shelly-Belly, who was in a GREAT mood, and Nicolina, who was in a TERRIBLE mood.

I was thinking how, even though I'm having a devil of a time regulating my new bio structure with my compounding pharmacist and having hot flashes that throw me into stripper-mode and then right into frozen-pop mode, I'm rarely crabby.

I didn't even realize it. I'm certain anyone around me realized it. THEY realized I haven't had any irrational spouts of anger followed by pouting.

I realized I've been feeling simply happy. Not dance around a maypole happy, but just kinda happy. Plain happy. I should search out a new word. A more descriptive word? Content? That's not it. Calm? Maybe . . . hmm maybe.

Rambling!

So while at the store, in the evening, close to the time I would be leaving, a woman came in with her two sons. Their ages were most likely 3 and 6.

She was trying to shop and the boys were in their moods. They were tired, probably a little hungry, and not loving the consignment store experience.

While they were checking out, the patient mother (she was the gold-standard for patient; a real doll of a girl) was dealing with the youngest that was, in this moment, being a handful. A real handful!

She had a huge pile of stuff and was trying to help me extract hangers and give her stash one last look-over. The youngest was being a little boy. My attention, however, was on the older boy.

He stood there very patiently, on his best behavior, watching me take off tags, fold the clothes, put them in bags.

I leaned over and said, "What are you going to have for supper? What are you in the mood for?"

He thought carefully and said, "I don't know! I'll have to think about it more!"

I winked at him and said, "I think you are the cutest boy I have seen in months. How is it being so darn cute and smart?"

He grinned at me and said nothing.

While talking to the older boy the younger boy was watching me intently. The attention had redirected from him and his badish behavior and he was puzzled by it a tad. He was used to the focus being all on him when in the midst of a mini-tantrum.

His big eyes followed every move I was making.

I handed one of the bags of clothes to the older boy and said, "You have good muscles, I bet you can help your momma carry her purchases out to your car. How does this feel?

He said, "I can carry it! I am strong!"

The momma was smiling at me, thanking me with her eyes.

When they left, the older boy said to his momma, "Please let's come back here, she said I was cute!"

His little 6 year-old face was just beaming. His little body wriggling with pleasure as he held the bag of clothes to help his momma.

Such a little exchange and such a huge reward for me. I was totally emotional the rest of the evening whenever I saw his little face in my mind.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say today. Maybe how I need to pay attention to moments like that. I'm so glad I did pay attention to that moment. And that children only want us to pay attention. Not just to the bad behavior, which always gets attention, but to the good behavior.

I want him to come back in to the store as well.

smooches my hooches

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Blue November

Pup is showering.

I'm shaking off the morning's fog, red mug tightly clenched in right hand, warning anyone to try to take it. Take it and it won't be pretty. Take it and I just might bite you.

It's early, but not too early. I listen as both of the cats, the visiting one and the one that lives here, are scampering all over like their little arses are on fire. The scampering makes me laugh. I think to myself how I wish I were a scamperer like they are. It would be awesome to wake up and have that energy to scamper.

I check my calendar to see what is going on in my day. Several appointments. Spaced nicely. I must have been on my game that day, I think to myself. Usually I overbook, or forget the bookings, or wish I didn't have any. I love having calendar items, but love the days that are blank. Blank as my brain in the morning. Blank as my brain in the evening.

I look out the window on the November morning. I love the sky in the fall. That particular shade of blue is hard to pin down. Hard to remember in the cold of the winter and hard to appreciate in the smothering heat of the summer. The fall is the best blue. Trees reaching up towards that blue like they want just a little bit more of the sun. Just a bit more of that warmth. They know what's approaching.

No complaining though, I'm not! It's been glorious for the past few weeks. Sweater Weather we here in the north call it. Not cold enough for the damn winter coats we'll be wearing for months and months. I put off coat-wearing for as long as possible. Sometimes longer than I should. I just can't bear the thought of putting on that coat.

I look out the window again and see that the sun is coming up over our house and spotlighting leaves and bare trees and driveways out in my world.

Pup comes in the office to kiss me goodbye as he heads out to his seminar.

I take a huge drink of my coffee and think to myself, today is the best day.

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