Wise words ...

This morning started out like most weekday mornings ... get up, start the coffee, shower, make lunches, wake monkey girl and the little dude, turn Fraggle Rock on, serve breakfast, make the beds, blow dry my hair, encourage kids to finish eating, put make-up on, encourage kids to finish eating, get dressed, tell kids that they MUST finish eating and get dressed, hover until they move from the table, make sure everyone brushes their teeth, get the little dude to let the dog in - refuse to pay him to do so, try to get out the door, eventually lose my cool, finally load into the truck, feel bad, give kisses and promise to not lose my cool the next day if they will promise to listen, drop kids off, park at bus stop, get on the bus.

But today something changed when I got on the bus. I sat down on one of the front benches (in a spot that may have been slightly smaller than my bum)between two ladies, one of whom decided to strike up a conversation. Usually when I am taking public transit, I have a habit of keeping my head down and reading my book rather than making new friends, but today breaking the norm led me to a 10 minute conversation that changed my perspective.

After I almost sat on her, this lady joked with me that so long as I did not sit completely on her lap everything would be fine. To which I responded that I would do my best. Then, after a chuckle shared between the two of us, she looked at me and asked if I knew what the secret to a long life was. "Tell me", I said and she went on to share with me that the secret was simple, "Don't get angry, life is too precious and too short. I am 89 and a half and when I was still married my husband, who had been a prisoner of war for five years, would sometimes wake up in a bad place. So, I would tell him that I needed to go to the bank and pay the cable bill, which of course had already been paid, and I would leave for an hour or two. When I returned he would always tell me that he knew that I didn't want to fight, and that is why he figured I gave him his space. It wasn't worth it to be angry over nothing". At this point in our conversation, I knew that this was a very special woman who had a very enlightened perspective on life, and since her 90th birthday is just around the corner - April 6, 2009 - I chalked it up to learning from someone who has had a lot of life experience. I took a moment and silently wondered where life had taken her but knew that our ride together was coming to an end. So out of curiosity, I asked how many children this lovely lady had, imagining what a great mom she must be, and she responded "one" and then her eyes welled up with tears and she said, "Well two, but I was in a concentration camp in Nazi Germany and the guards would just point randomly to people and you would never see them again, life is too short dear - don't waste it on saying and doing things that you can't take back".

"I was a spoiled girl before that, I had a good heart but I was selfish. I became a good person afterwards. Life is precious." Now I don't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that my sunglasses covered the tears in my own eyes, but this interaction completely moved me, and her perspective started to make more and more sense. I want to live my life as a good person too, I sometimes get mad at silly things and say things I wish I hadn't and though it isn't likely that I will never do these things again, this experience will make me work harder not to. I will never forget the look in that woman's eyes when she spoke of losing her child or the wisdom that she shared with me.

Before she got off the bus the conversation turned to talk of her upcoming birthday and she told me that she was sure that there would be a party but she was only giving them three hours ... "for goodness sakes I will be 90, three hours is enough!" She also said that she had asked her son to get her a t-shirt that reads, "How the heck did I get this old?". I hope that he buys her that t-shirt and I hope that when people ask her how she got that old that she shares her wisdom and experiences with them. They will be better for it, I know I am.

If I am five minutes late getting out the door tomorrow, I will watch my words and look at the bigger picture ... I am blessed and at the end of the day what is important is the little people that I am getting out the door, not what bus I catch.

On a lighter note ...

I promised to tell the "bum drum" story, so here it is:

Prologue

My husband started to play bum drums with the kids when they were really little. What it is is a little game where he plays the drums on their bums when they are rough-housing and it makes them laugh. Monkey girl, as she often does, has taken the game to a new level and sometimes slaps the bums of her uncles or friends of ours who come by to visit. Everyone, so far, has been good natured about it and because she is only three there is really no harm done, so long as she is selective in her "bum drum recipients".

The Incident

So, I went to pick monkey-girl up from her dayhome one day last week, and I arrived with another couple who was there to get their child. We all exchanged pleasantries and went about the business of saying goodbye and collecting our children. Same old, same old.

Then, as we were leaving, to my absolute horror, monkey girl smacked the bum of her little buddy's dad. OMG!!!

Immediately his head whipped around and there I was, standing red-faced and speechless as I looked from him - to his wife - to our dayhome provider - to the grinning culprit "monkey girl". Finally, after a moment of complete awkwardness I mumbled that it was a small hand, NOT my hand, that had done the "drumming" and that I would have to correct this tendency before adolescence. Everyone kind of laughed and I scooped monkey girl up and made my way, as quickly as possible, to my truck.

Once we were buckled and in the privacy of our vehicle, I laughed hysterically for a moment before saying, "Now sweetie, you can't play that game with everyone. Can you promise me that you won't play "bum drums" anymore with people who aren't in our family?"

Now, I probably should have banned the game entirely, but the innocence of it had a certain beauty. Amidst all of the crazy and horrible things that go on in the world, I figure that sometimes it is okay to just let our kids be little and bask in their innocence.

WARNING: For those readers who frequent our house, you are not immune to bum drumming, and though you may not be related to her, monkey girl has a tendency of enabling her selective memory at a moment's notice - the result may be that you get spanked at our house.