Am I the only one bothered by the radio advertisement for The Petal Study? Have you heard it? They’re advertising a medical study for a new endometriosis medication. It’s actually painful to listen to.

It goes something like this…
“If you feel as if you’re wrapped in barbed-wire, AND you’re lying on a bed of nails, AND there’s a cinder block on your stomach, AND someone is pounding on it…you may qualify for The Petal Study.”

Wow. It makes me want to run out and hug anyone I know with a gynecological problem. It also gets me thinking about how you would qualify someone for The Parenting Study.

“Have your senses been deprived due to a lack of reading anything more intelligent than Dora books? Does school tuition leave you with an empty dinner plate? Are you sleep deprived and exhausted from being exposed to fire truck sirens and the High School Musical CD? Do your feet ache from stepping on errant toys? Have you forgotten what it feels like to have an adult conversation? If so, you may qualify for The Parenting Study.”

I’m sure I know what my friends without children are saying…

“I think I’d rather have endometriosis.”

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I have been to the movies three times in the past four days. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. My husband and I used to see movies all the time. You know, back when we had lives. But, the opportunity to see a film has dwindled to a few times a year, and usually movie night is reserved for those of the Disney/Pixar variety.

But, Friday night my husband and I got a babysitter and snuck out for a few hours. After a nice dinner, we spent $17.00 on movie tickets (plus another $10.00 on concessions) to see The Bourne Ultimatum. It was a good movie, but what is with the shaky camera syndrome? There were times I had to look away, because every scene looked like it had been filmed in an earthquake. And, the editing was so quick and choppy that I had the sensation of spinning about in a Cuisinart. I liked the movie, but I left there feeling really OLD. Those darn Hollywood youngsters and their flashy cinematography!

Yesterday, my daughter and I spent the day at the mall while the boys were away. After visiting all the stores with floor to ceiling glitter, where girls are getting their ears pierced and buying all things that sparkle, I decided to take my daughter to her first chick-flick. We spent $12.00 for tickets and $3.00 more for popcorn, then settled in for the new Catherine Zeta-Jones movie. I had heard it was good. A make-you-laugh, make-you-cry film. Yeah right. It was BOR–ing. I can’t even believe we stayed awake.

Today I decided to take the kids to see Evan Almighty. It’s playing at the “dollar movies”, and because it’s Monday, and we had more than three people, we got in for 50 cents each. They also had a deal where you could buy a kids-meal sized box of popcorn AND a drink for $2.50. Sign me up!

Turns out, this was my favorite movie of the three. Not because it was a bargain, though that was nice. But, because I laughed, and both my kids laughed, AND to top it off this movie had some moral value.

I didn’t walk into the theater thinking it would be anything but mere low-level entertainment. Just something to do for a couple of hours on a hot, August day. But, we left there having learned lessons in courage, decency and goodness. My daughter picked up on the “Acts of Random Kindness” message, whereas I paid particular attention to the part where Morgan Freeman says, “If you pray for patience, do you expect God to just give you patience? Or, does He put you in situations where you can learn to be patient?” I suddenly remembered a co-worker who once told me you should never pray for patience, because if you HAVE it, then you may be put in a predicament where you NEED it. This was before I had kids, so I really had NO CLUE about how often I would need to stay calm and composed.

Who would’ve thought I’d be reminded of those words of wisdom at the dollar movies? There on the sticky seat, eating popcorn out of a kid’s meal box, with the two little people who most often test the patience that I’ll try not to ask for anymore.

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My two kids have recently taken to acting like dogs. Not only that, but I am frequently summoned to watch their “dog shows”, where they pretend to eat, sleep, slurp water, play fetch, and bark a lot. It’s fascinating.

In addition to these performances, I am often asked to watch dance moves, rope jumping, big-wheel riding, bubble-blowing, and swingset tricks. I also have to keep track of movements, or time them, A LOT. “Mommy, see how fast I can run around the house.” “Mommy, count how many times I hop before I get to the car.” These are the times I want to reply, “See how fast Mommy can make a margarita.”

Why is having an audience so appealing to kids? My son even wants someone in the bathroom with him to observe his peeing skills (or lack thereof). I can’t think of anything I do that I would want someone to see. Look at me! I do dishes, I fold laundry! I am amazing with a vacuum!

But, despite the constant interruptions and sometimes being bored to tears, I do find charm in knowing the mundane is so interesting to them that they want to share it. There is such innocence in getting excited about the ordinary tasks of getting to the car, or going to the bathroom. Or, in finding abundant joy because you’re playing inside a big cardboard box.

Maybe we should all try to find delight in the commonplace, because it sure seems like a great way to live. Maybe if we have an unconventional attitude, we’ll learn to appreciate the day-to-day. Though, it’s hard to picture adults doing that. Because, I’m thinking that if I wanted to skip through the grocery store, I’d probably need one of those margaritas first.

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I would make a horrible beggar. I’ve come to this conclusion because I’m starting to notice that whenever anyone does something really nice, it almost always brings me to tears.

I had my first generosity-meltdown a few years ago. It was Thanksgiving, and our son was very, very sick with a blood infection. We had spent the previous day at the ER and instead of admitting him to the hospital, they prescribed a $300.00 bottle of antibiotics. Other than seven days worth of IV meds, it was the only thing that could fight the bacteria. Well, being that this kid doesn’t do anything without making it harder first, he decided that as soon as one drop of that medicine hit his tongue, he would get violently ill. I can’t blame him, considering the taste reminded me of the time I was dared by my elementary school “friends” to lick a light pole. Mmmmm….wet steel, covered with stranger’s fingerprints and dog pee. DEEE–licious!

So, we made an emergency call to the doctor on Thanksgiving morning, just knowing we were about to get sent to the hospital for a week long stay. But instead, our wonderful pediatrician offered to open her office, AFTER making Thanksgiving dinner for a house full of people, to put in an IV port. We made arrangements for a nurse, who also happens to be my son’s aunt, to come to our house every day to give him his meds. You can’t imagine how happy we were that our lives didn’t have to be turned upside down. Our son didn’t have to spend a week in the hospital, and he was in the comfort of his own home when he was very sick. I cried every day during that time, because things could’ve been much different. And, I was so grateful they weren’t.

When my husband was between jobs and we were low on money, my hairdresser gave me a free haircut. I cried like a baby right there in the salon. When I think of the time my Mom gave a classroom of developmentally disabled children $5.00 each at the Secret Santa giftshop, or when my husband gives money to people on the street, I get misty. When I envision all the men and women who serve this country, I weep. And, even though my neighbor knows I’m scared to death of her cat, she brought me a dozen roses today for taking care of him, and I almost blubbered in her face.

I have come to accept that I am an emotional wimp when it comes to generosity. And, as much as I want to simply thank you, please know I can’t help it if I simply boo hoo.

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