Writing | BulgingButtons

November 12, 2013
by BulgingButtons 10 Comments

It’s the Small Things

I read a wonderful post on Mrs. N’s blog the other day. She has been posting about gratitude, which is very timely in this season of Thanksgiving. The post that caught my eye had a quote from Piglet, and being a Winnie the Pooh fan, it drew me in immediately. The post inspired me to write a quick little list of my own. Following are five small things for which I am thankful. I know there are a million others, and this list isn’t even a top five, just five random things off the top of my head. I hope you enjoy my list and create one of your own. If you do, please link back here so we can all enjoy each other’s small things.

1. Going to sleep in a freshly made bed. I love the light scent of the detergent and the soft fabric against my cheek. I love when the bed is wrinkle free and so inviting. Ah, the thought of it makes me want to go back to bed!

2. The sound of children singing. It can be my students singing in a performance that they have rehearsed for or the sound of a three year old singing itsy-bitsy spider.

3. The spicy cinnamon sweetness of Hot Tamale candies. The hard shell on the outside crunches and the spicy sweet goodness overwhelms your mouth. Yum.

4. The greeting my dog gives me when I get home. She wags her tail with her entire body, and acts as though seeing me again is the best thing that has ever happened to her. The miracle is that she does this every single time.

5. Catching a glimpse of one of my flying pigs. I have a collection of them, many of them gifts from people dear to my heart. To me they are the ultimate symbol of optimism. They just make me happy.

There are so many more small things that make me happy, I could go on for days. I wonder, what small things make you happy?

November 12, 2013
by BulgingButtons 4 Comments

Two Freeway Nightmares

I’ve just woken up from my second vivid dream, nightmare really, involving driving on the freeway. Ok, I’m listening. I will slow down. I will pay meticulous attention. I do not wish to live out either scenario, although the second is far preferable to the first.

Nightmare number 1: I’m driving along on a familiar freeway, in the middle lane, going south. My attention is diverted for a split second. I look up and there is a man standing by the driver’s door of his stalled white pickup truck directly in front of me. I’m going too fast. I wake up.

Nightmare number 2: I’m riding with my mother on an unfamiliar freeway (impossible, she doesn’t drive on freeways). In the middle distance I notice cars are having trouble with a high point in the road. As we get to this spot the minivan ahead of us goes airborn. We see the bottom of the van looming in front of us. They manage to land. Mom manages to stop without it hitting us. Both of us badly shaken, I talk her through pulling off to the side so nobody hits us. Nobody does. I tell her she saved our lives. The back of the minivan opens. There is a dog crate in the back and kids in the seats. I think everyone is ok. I wake up.

For me, this is the real stuff of nightmares. I don’t generally dream of monsters or aliens. Usually I have pleasant dreams, but sometimes I dream of the things I fear. I fear getting into a bad accident. I will be careful. I will listen to my dreams, even when they are awful.

November 11, 2013
by BulgingButtons 14 Comments

The Gradual Slide Into Decline

A longtime friend is in town for a conference. I have plans to see her today and I’m excited about that. I would like to bring her by my home to meet my sweetheart and my puppy. Except then I look around. Dammit. The dishes from last night (and pots, pans, knives, cutting board, wine glasses…etc.) did not somehow magically wash themselves. No worries, I will empty the dishwasher and load it up again and we’ll be good to go.

Except that we’re not. Good to go, that is. My lunchbox from Friday is on the counter. It’s Monday. I have three purses on the floor behind the couch, a week’s worth of mail is on the kitchen table, and that basket of clean laundry is still standing in my bedroom, unfolded. In all fairness, it’s only underwear. I fished out everything else and folded and put it away. I was in a hurry.

Still, if I did those small things, the house would still not be what I want it to be. The office, where I sit and write, and also sew from time to time, is far too cluttered, with no place for all of the things it currently houses. The little bookshelf in the dining room was only supposed to be there over the summer while I was changing classrooms, and my dining room table has held a computer monitor since March. With no computer attached, I might add.

Each of these things is small, but the cumulative effect is overwhelming chaos. At least in my eyes. I think that’s why I don’t deal with each of those small things. I feel like they won’t make a difference to the overall appearance and atmosphere of the home. You can see it coming, can’t you? The aha moment? Well, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

This is just like what I do to my body. A little slip here, a misstep there, I tell myself these are small things. No big deal. But over time look at what all of those small, easily reversible things have accumulated into. I can fix my house in a day. It may not be perfect but it will be a lot better, and the results will be instantly recognizable. Not so with my body. I can’t fix it in a day, or a week, or a month. What I can do, and must do, is stop treating it so haphazardly.

Like my home, when I maintain my body a certain way it is a joy. It is comfortable, functional, and just feels good. I need to keep that in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a little more housekeeping to attend to.