The Power of a Word

A friend of mine signs her emails with a particular tag line... "peace." It's funny, but reading her emails there actually is an air of calmness and peace about them.

So I decided to try an experiment. I wondered if the fact that reading the word "peace" actually felt like it brought some, what would writing it out bring?

I've changed my own email closing line (getting her permission, of course!). I used to sign off my emails with the word "best," for best regards, but it didn't seem quite fitting anymore. I'm still searching for peace, some days more than others. So... "peace" is my new closing.

And you know what? It works.

When I'm working hard against a PTO deadline, it helps calm me down. When I'm sending an email I'd really rather not be spending time on sending, it helps take the sting out of the hurt. When I'm writing with friends, it helps affirm their friendships in my life.

It's true. One word can have a lot of power, meaning, and the ability to change.

What Do You Do All Day?

A friend emailed me this little story. It's very funny. I know, at some point and in some way, this question has been asked of every mom who doesn't "work" outside the home.

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house and there was no sign of the dog.

Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a Cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened. He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door.

As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls. As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel.

She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"

She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world do I do all day?"

"Yes," was his incredulous reply.

She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."

by Jennifer Johnson

Never Alone

Moms are never really alone. Especially when the more children you have, the harder it gets to be to find that time! Shower time? Someone always come in. Potty time? Ha! Phone time? Isn't that code for "come talk to mom" or "fight with sister over a Polly Pocket?"

Even when I get to sneak out and actually get my alone time, I'm not alone. For one, there's all the carseats and toys in the car. But here's my example from yesterday...

Tuesday and Thursday nights are my escape for myself. A little me time to tone my body and calm my mind, heal my spirit. A little more than an hour of taking care of me. Bliss.

Yesterday, during a few errands, I filled my water bottle for the car, leaving it there to take with me into my class last night. When I picked up the bottle to head into the building, water sloshed in the almost empty container. Some little body had needed cooling down on our way home from Girl Scouts.

Halfway through class, while lifted in a vinyasa series, my arm brushed my side. It found a sticker. An Easter sticker, no less.

No, mommies are never alone.

My husband reminded me that someday I will be, and that will leave me sadder than an empty water bottle and ill-placed sticker. He knows me too well.