Ticked Off

  You may have read in an earlier post, titled DUCK! And Cover, that we are in the midst of the hunting season making ducks fair game.  What you didn't read about is the young man in his mid-teens who eats, sleeps, and breathes hunting...and lives under my roof.  Yes, the clamor of duck calls regularly sounds off in my dining room, accompanied by a variety of camouflage paraphernalia everywhere the eye can rest.  Duck decoys arrive in the mail and are proudly displayed throughout...well, everywhere the eye can rest.  Thankfully those decoys took the loud hint and migrated to the hunter's bedroom.

It's time to go hunting!

  This past Saturday was a decent day for hunting.  I heard floorboards creaking rather early and knew my son was biding his time til he dared disturb his father's slumber.  This period of waiting has become a stressful ritual in our home.  Upon my husband's emergence from the bedroom, he is faced with non-stop references to the current hour and minute followed by intervals of hovering during breakfast.  The subliminal message permeating our mealtime is, "Who has time to eat?!?  There's hunting to be done!"  Thank heavens maturity and consistent working with our son has led to the message being subliminal...time has softened the full-on verbal barrage.

  The time had come and my husband put us all out of our misery by asking our son to load the vehicle, which of course had been done an hour ago.  A kiss from my husband, a forehead presented by my son for me to kiss, and out the door they went.  This was the perfect opportunity for me to grab my eleven year-old boy and head to our favorite trails at the Peninsula.  Yes, the same Peninsula the duck blinds are located on.


  We'd been walking about ten minutes when my younger son pointed to the road which leads back home and announced, "Hey, there goes our van!"  Perhaps the warning bells should have been going off in my head...yet, I've learned I'm never far enough, in cases of emergency, I can't be reached.  So, on we walked...even as the dreaded awaited call came ringing in.  "Yeees?  I said, trying to be as cheery as possible."  I don't wish to bore nor scandalize you with the tirade that exploded into my ear describing how they never even made it into the duck blind.  I won't fill you in on the unflattering and rather disrespectful picture, painted of my husband, with such hostile words.  My teen, who had been chomping at the bit for this highly anticipated moment, was more than frustrated with the hope that had gone dead in the water without firing a single shot.

I admit I did feel bad for the fowl-tempered fella and quickened my pace to get home...though not so much that I would catch the initial fall-out fireworks I imagined were going off.  I even texted a couple nephews looking for a stand-in hunting partner.  I automatically assumed my husband's back was causing him such pain that he bailed and needed to rest.  Therefore, I resigned myself to the rescuer's role and began to mentally prepare to wrap in a blankey and sit in the blind if imploring texts to my nephews didn't pan out.

  With the walk finally over, we headed to the car only to be let down by a deflated rear tire.  Great...what the heck kind of day is this??  I called my husband to ask if I should drive like that.  He said he'd fill the compressor and be right down.  As I write this I'm realizing everything happens for a reason...it's a very good thing he was home or my 11 year-old and I would have had a long, uphill, chilly walk home...after our long, chilly walk we just took.  I was briefly filled-in over the phone how our teen ignored requests to find a trail leading to the blind.  Instead, he stomped right into the tall grasses determined to find a quick route there.  There was something about ticks, which alerted me to my husband's rightful concern... Presque Isle, lovely as it is, is known to have a large deer tick population.  My husband had once been bit by a deer tick, confirmed to have Lyme's disease.  He was never at ease with spending much time at Presque Isle, let alone going off trail and into dense vegetation where they'd most likely be.


Deer ticks can cause Lyme disease

  After his arrival and quick fix of the tire, I offered to drive the van home while he'd take the car to the closest gas station and check the tire's air pressure.  That offer was quickly rescinded upon hearing that three large deer ticks had already been found crawling in the van.  Sure enough, our son had walked right into a hot spot for the buggers before his frustrated Dad demand they were going home due to lack of obedience.

Eeeew!

Once home, I was surprised by the calm I walked into.  I was certain there would  be arguing and pleading for me to fulfill my impatient hunter's plans for the day.  I was impressed to see his quiet resignation as he worked side by side with my husband to rid the van of these tiny, disease carrying, blood suckers.  I was relieved yet horrified that a total of eight ticks were discovered in our family's vehicle.  I listened to my 11 year-old ask, "Dad, what is the purpose of ticks in the world?" and wondered the same thing.  We didn't come up with much of an answer...likening them to mosquitoes and other insects that seem to do more harm than good.

  Perhaps, in that instance the tick's purpose was to provide a teachable moment.  Difficult as it was, there is more patience added to my young hunter's arsenal.  He has learned to pace the floors on Saturday mornings instead of bounding onto our bed...maybe he will listen to the voice that warns him to stay on the path and understand wisdom is born of experience.



You Can't Always Get What You Want (by Diane Gallagher)

 (Guest Blogger Wednesday :) I want to get a massage.  I need to get my hair cut.  Both require money (in varying amounts), babysitting arrangements and planning (pitiful to say that it takes planning for me to get my haircut, but that is my reality) but the former is something I can live without while the latter is a necessity for me. These are obvious examples, but sometimes it can be a little trickier to distinguish between a want and a need.  I remember a friend of mine from years gone by who used to challenge me if I would use the word “need” incorrectly. “I NEED to go shopping for a new bathing suit.”  He would reply, “You NEED a new bathing suit?  Or do you WANT one?”  Needless to say, that would annoy the heck out of me sometimes, but it did make me stop and think.  I would like to do a better job for myself and my children in distinguishing between the two on a daily basis … And maybe only fulfilling the wants when it is peaceful, financially and physically.  If we refer to the tried and true “Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs,” we all know what it is we really need:  food, shelter, security, love.  Not a ski club membership, splash lagoon birthday party, or an ipod touch.  It is a wonderful perk when we can give our children something that they want beyond what they need, but it can actually be a helpful tool in growing up to be told “no” and learn how to accept it gracefully.  I detest saying “no” to my kids when it is something I know they really want. Not a strong suit of mine.  I will admit, however, that when I do find I have to deny them, you may hear me singing the refrain to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” while they are whining about the unfairness of life or how depressed they are.  Like I have reiterated in past blogs, the best I can do is try to pray that God will help me to know when prudence and denial are the answer or when a “want” can be fulfilled.  My husband has a tendency to respond with a quick “no” while I swing to the other side of the pendulum with a hearty “yes”… and then we find the right answer (I hope) somewhere in between.

As I mentioned above, I sometimes have a similar struggle in determining my personal wants and needs, not just those of my children.   What do I need each day and what do I want?  The other afternoon, I had an hour before children came home from school and my two “babies” at home were sleeping.  AWWWW …. What to do during this time of peace and quiet?  I could play “Words with Friends”, exercise, do laundry,  start calling room parents (one of my new PTO duties) OR make dinner.  Bummer.  I have to make dinner.  That is what absolutely has to happen right now.  That fulfills a need for my family.  It is not fun.  I can even get irritated that this is how I have to spend my quiet time when there are so many alternatives.  But by doing this mundane task now, I will be better prepared to enter into homework, football preparation, and taxiing my children around this evening, knowing we have a substantial meal at home (that they can scarf down and complain about) in between.  God is so good at meeting my needs as well, but not always my wants.  My youngest was napping and I was making meatballs (a different scenario from aforementioned one).  I muttered under my breath that I hoped Elly slept until I was done because my hands were covered in raw hamburger, and I wanted to get the meatballs cooking. As soon as I finished, I began the arduous task of cleaning up the kitchen when I heard the baby begin to cry.  One of my sons was in the kitchen with me.  When I sighed and said, “I wanted to get these dishes washed before she woke,” he smirked and said “Mom, you can’t always get what you want.  But you got what you needed.”  He was right.  Dinner was cooking on the stove.  Yes, the kitchen was not cleaned but it didn’t need to be…. yet.  All in good time.  All in God’s time.  I do believe He cares about the little things.  I am not saying He reaches down and makes my baby sleep longer or wake up early just to test me (though He can)… He does allow nature to take its course.  But I believe He might nudge me to make a choice or perform a task that He knows would be most peaceful for my family and myself if I allow Him to be part of my daily life.  And I definitely believe that He gives me just what I need whether it is a sleeping baby or the grace to accept disruptions.  The Israelites got manna in the desert though they probably would have preferred a gourmet lamb. My kids want a trip to Disney but just might have to accept a week of camping in Cook Forest.  No, we can’t always get what we want.  Thank goodness. 

Pardon the Interruption (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday. :)  The kids seemed preoccupied so I snuck into the office to compile my grocery list and meal plan for the week only to be followed by my 1 yr old who did not want me to be sitting at the computer at that moment.  I became frustrated and slumped over to the couch where Elly began to happily play, so I wrote my blog instead.

My husband lazily woke on his second day of vacation to discover that I had a broken ipod that needed fixing (water and electronics are never a good mixL).  He had been planning on getting his motorcycle inspected or taking a walk at the beach but instead he begrudgingly spent the morning at Verizon.

 Two different scenarios but one similar theme:  what we hope to achieve or do in a day is often very different from what we actually do accomplish.  In other words, as I heard about in a recent homily, life is full of interruptions.  The question is, how do we handle them?  Maybe it’s our sleep being interrupted by a sick child or our leisure time interrupted by needy children (aforementioned needs being anything from hunger to peacemaking or help on the potty).  Maybe it’s our meal prep being interrupted by homework demands or housecleaning interrupted by car pool dilemmas.  Many times my intended plans are good and important, but just obviously not what was supposed to happen that day or at that moment.  Man, do I hate that!  When I have a goal in mind, I can get very frustrated when I do not succeed.  I can get downright annoyed at the child or circumstance that became the obstacle. 

That’s why the homily on interruptions struck such a chord with me.  The homilist pointed out how often Jesus’ plans were interrupted.  For example, He thought He was going to the mountain to pray, but instead was approached at least three times, according to one gospel account, and asked to heal someone – a leper, the centurion’s slave, Peter’s mother-in-law (Matthew 8).  Each time, He said “yes” and tended to the need at the moment, laying aside His own plan for the day.  He didn’t whine about it or say “no” because He was planning on praying and preaching that day.  This doesn’t mean He would never say “no” to an interruption if what He was doing at the moment was the priority, but it’s all about knowing when we need to be open to interruptions and allow them to change our course for the day vs. when we need to stay the course we are on.  When a friend calls to do coffee, and I am in the middle of paying my bills, I may need to say “no” to the tempting interruption.  But if that friend is upset and needs to talk, I may need to stay up late that night to get the bills paid.  Knowing the difference is the true challenge.  All I can do is pray my morning offering each day – surrendering my day to God – and then pray that I can follow His subtle or blatant nudging, trusting my gut when there are no obvious signs.  I know I make poor calls sometimes and don’t always distinguish between a necessary or unnecessary interruption, but I at least hope this awareness will help me be a little more patient the next time that anticipated two-hour nap becomes a 15 minute snooze because of a poopy diaper.  My days unfold the way they are supposed to, with just the right crosses and victories necessary for me to get to heaven.  Why fight it?

Somebody's Watching (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday :) I was rushing into the new woman’s hospital to visit my niece who had just lost her baby six weeks prior to her due date.  We were devastated for them, so I wanted to express my sympathy and support – but had a limited window of time as my sister was sitting in the van with my two little ones, and she had to be at work soon.  I had never been in this new hospital and was totally unprepared for the heavy security that visitors had to go through in order to enter the facility.  There was a line at the desk where you had to show ID and have your photo taken.  Of course, I did not have my wallet on me since I had jumped out of the van quickly so I was trying to get the security officer’s attention just to determine if I really had to have my ID for this brief, solitary visit.  Unfortunately, he was too busy tending to the people in front of me to pay me any heed.  I was getting more and more anxious as I watched my allotted time ticking away, and I finally stepped out of line.  I noticed a receptionist sitting at a desk in the lobby so I rushed over to ask my question.  I was huffy and abrupt, very obviously annoyed.  When I asked if I could enter without ID, a gentleman next to the receptionist asked whom I was there to see.  When I told him, he very graciously extended his sympathy for our family’s loss and asked if I was a Toohey.  I reluctantly admitted that I was, and he proceeded to inform me of his fondness for my parents with whom he was acquainted and offered to facilitate a quick entry for me into the building.  I immediately apologized for my impatience, and he brushed it off, but internally I was mortified.  It was a humbling moment.  I suspect that if I had known the employees at the hospital or realized that they knew my family, I would have been more patient and kind in my response to the situation.  I subconsciously let my guard down simply because I thought these people were strangers, and I wasn’t accountable for my deeds.  My impatience reflected poorly on my family, myself, and God whom I claim to follow.  Where was my whole “golden rule” behavior?  “Do unto others as you would have them do to you.”  I’m not just supposed to exhibit that attitude when it is easy and convenient.  It’s supposed to be a part of my every interaction. 

I remember my sister sharing a story about a time she went to a party.  The host and hostess were upstairs in the baby’s room, gossiping about some of the guests and didn’t realize the baby monitor was on. Awkward.   Likewise, a friend of mine accidentally pocket dialed the person that she and her spouse were “venting” about at that moment.  What timing!  These incidents are good reminders of the behavior we should always be demonstrating, though.  My sister had been appalled by the baby monitor conversation and responded that none of us should ever be saying anything in private that could not be shared in public.  Yikes!  Another good lesson for me.  I don’t generally gossip but can definitely say more than I should, especially to my husband, in the name of “healthy venting” when I’m struggling with a person or situation.  The bottom line is that I shouldn’t be saying or doing anything in private or in public that would embarrass me, get me into trouble, or disappoint my Heavenly Father.  I frequently tell my children to ask themselves if they would be saying, watching, doing what they are if Jesus was standing next to them.  I guess I should apply this to my life as well.  I have a feeling I will be learning these valuable lessons until the day I die, being human and all.  Hopefully, I won’t destroy my family’s reputation in the process.J

Eyes Opened...

A man and his children were riding the public bus home one evening. The man appeared oblivious to his children's "over the top" misbehavior. A nearby passenger began clearing her throat to bring attention to his children as they ran wildly through the aisles. Her indignant sniffs became louder as they hollered and jumped over the seats. She was shocked and displeased with his lack of applied discipline to this unruly crew. Still, the man stared into nothing seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Finally,her patience worn thin she demanded, "won't you please get your children under control?" The man seemed to snap back to the reality of his surroundings. He quickly apologized for his children disturbing this woman. "You see," he tried explaining, "they are probably trying to get a little energy out. We've been at the hospital all day where their mother has just died. I will have them quiet down."

** I had heard this story (I believe true) years ago and have repeated it several times. The shock value comes in at the end when the justified irritation and self righteous anger at an apparent lack of parenting suddenly transforms into a horrible lack of compassion and passing judgement.

Just this past Friday my own children were exhibiting a lack of control as they fought among themselves. My eldest, a teenager, was working himself into a fury as he physically threatened his younger brother, told his sisters to "shut up," and even hurled insults my way. My response was just as shameful as I vented my utter frustration at him in the form of name calling and grounded him for a week...or maybe it was a month...(I was pretty upset). I was beside myself as I ordered everyone in and buckled. I slammed van doors while loudly reprimanding the lot of them especially my teen son. Once I was in the drivers seat , and backing up, I braked and demanded to know who's door was open... the lights were still on. A few seconds later I uttered, "oh." and sheepishly walked around to shut the rear doors I forgot I had opened while venting. I chose to ignore my children's giggling commentary filtering around me "then mom yelled who left the doors open... and then she was like, oh."

I drove in silence until I realized my eldest, in the passenger seat beside me, was still was not buckled. We were no longer yelling...or talking. "Please put your seat belt on." A minute later I repeated, "please put your seat belt on." I touched his arm and asked "what is going on with you?" Silence with a glare. I looked over at him and fearing the worst I asked, "why are your eyes all red and glossy?!?," allowing the accusation to seep into my voice. "Because I was crying Mom." What?!? That was unexpected. "Why?" "Because my friend just died an hour and a half ago!" Tears began to stream down his cheeks. I was in shock. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen my big boy cry. Slowly he filled me in on his classmate who had been life flighted after being overcome by Carbon Monoxide. I gasped when I recognized this as the boy I had been following on the news. A true tragedy.

I began to think back to the hug my son had tried to give me as I was hustling everyone out the door and barking orders. I reached over and squeezed his arm and told him, "I am so very sorry." It became clear to me that I was the self righteous woman on the bus...judging my son harshly (easy to do with a teen temper). Wrapped up in his horrible show of anger I became oblivious as to WHY he was so angry.

Compassion is a lesson that comes in a difficult tutorial... It takes giving up a sense of comfort to discover the source of what appears unappealing. Applying the balm of compassion may be as simple as cutting someone a little slack or even just listening. Either way, this is probably a lesson that will be repeated throughout life. I'm certain I have BEEN the occasional TEST for lifes' unsuspecting traveler as well...