A Humility Lesson from a Yoga Mom

I find humility in the funniest situations. Usually it comes from my kids...like when they point out that I've used a cuss word or if I drink straight out of the milk container. My most recent dose came from a perfect stranger.

I was enjoying a rare moment over breakfast with my two younger boys at the local diner. Henry was madly munching on a chocolate chip waffle with whipped cream and little Wesley was trying to keep up with his big brother. This was a special treat for all of us...breakfast out and the "candy" for breakfast. I was happy just watching them.

We were happily chatting about nothing when out of the corner of my eye I saw one of THOSE super fit Tribeca moms. You know them-- moms who sport around in Lycra to show off her hard work while carrying a water bottle and yoga matt. Although I haven’t worn spandex in years, I am always surprised with my envious reaction of any mom who finds the time to work out and look amazing.

I watched as she and her two cute girls bounced into the table next to ours. My choice of a chocolate chips and waffle breakfast was a stark contrast her freshly squeezed orange juice and poached egg diet. My morning deflated a bit. Her healthy lifestyle and seemingly Zen-like presence annoyed me to no end.

Then I found myself ease dropping on their conversation. Her girls were perfectly poised, napkins in lap and seemed to be on their best behavior when I heard.

“Alexa, if you want your sister to speak to you nicely, then you have to show her respect. Your tone was not appropriate. I suggest you ask her again, this time changing your tone.” An inaudible mumble with egg in her mouth…

“Better. Now, girls, respect in our family is very important.” I could almost envision a DEEP yoga breath happening as she followed up with, “We all need to speak to each other in respectful tones…” Ooooommmmmmmmmmmmm.

I turned my attention back to my family. The boys were fully jacked up with sugar and demanding my full attention. I was painfully aware both of them speaking loudly, urgently and at the same time! It was time to leave.

I quickly paid and rushed the boys out the door to school. As I walked into my chaotic life, I smiled. The Yoga mom was right!

We do need to speak to each other with respect. Respect is a critical life lesson for all young people. After taking a deep breath, I quietly thanked my super fit friend and walked with confidence into my day!

When I'm Overtaken by my Superior Motherhood Gene!

On an impulse, I bought 3 tickets to see Madame Butterfly at the Met with my 2 boys. I was convinced that this would be GOOD for their soul, transform them into cultured, more well rounded beings. Or to borrow my husbands analysis…I was over taken by my “Superior Motherhood” gene!

A week before I started to prep them--or better yet, manage expectations. I said:
• You won’t understand a WORD they are singing
• It could be boring
• There won’t be many kids (if any!)
• Everyone dresses up
• It’ll be a late night

Yuk…even I began to question my reasoning. Then, I had to remind myself that when my mom took my brother and me to see Beverly Sills in Madame Butterfly as kids,we LOVED it.

So I marched ahead, well dressed boys in tow. I took them to dinner beforehand and plied them with Cokes and a huge slice of Chocolate Cake!

We entered Lincoln Center with all its glitter and glamour. They were in awe of the theater and immediately stood taller among all the adults. Some of the older, more seasoned folks looked apprehensive (Their body language screamed “Please don’t sit next to us!”). While the younger people smiled encouragingly…seaming to say, ”Good luck, with that!”

The first act opened and my boys were on the edge of their seats. Thanks to modern technology, they followed the story line on the big Jumbotron above the stage.

Ha! There were only a few yawns and many tears shed by both me and my youngest. The boys LOVED it, yelled BRAVO! and asked when we could see another one! I was both pleasantly surprised and delighted. Whew! I could now check that box off in their Must Experience Before Leave Home box…


And, I guess there is a good reason that Opera still manages to fill theaters. It reaches around us and touches our soul.

Engage and Be Happy

The Wall Street Journal just highlighted a recent study that said American were no happier today than they were 40 years ago.

Even in this age of enlightenment and our obsession with self-help and self improvement, this is not a tremendous surprise. What is surprising is the role television plays in determining our mood.

Americans spend between 15% and 17% of our waking hours watching TV. This need to "zone out" or relax actually is contributing to both our and our children's malaise. Activities that allow for us to mentally engaged like exercising or socializing are most likely to make us happier.


People are always shocked when I tell them we have no TV in our house. We simply opted out because we were tired of fighting over which bad program which child was allowed to watch. And yet, both my husband and I can HAPPILY say, it is NOT missed.

In fact, all of us are reading books more (one of the activities the WS Journal says leads to more happiness!) and interacting more with each other (another one).

Hmm. Who knows if our children will end up any happier, but it made me happy to think we may be on the right path!

The Power of a Red Marble

My friend Polly of Barn Dandys e mailed me this story...pretty powerful. Enjoy!


I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily looking a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes and I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"'Lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thanks. Just admirin' the peas. They sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Just admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.


"No, Sir. Got nothin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got is my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it" said Miller.

"Here. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" the store owner asked.

"Not exactly but almost.."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble". Mr. Miller told the boy.

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store."

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.

They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer
whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho "

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath..

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself...An unexpected phone call from an old friend...Green stoplights on your way to work...The fastest line at the grocery store...A good sing-along song on the radio...Your keys found right where you left them.

Winter's Last Breath

Meet Maggie! My best friend sent me this snapshot of her little girl. I love that it's Spring Break and it is SNOWING...ohhhhhh, the glorious North. I swear growing up in Texas, I was in a swimming pool in March! I am ready for fresh flowers, sunny warm days and the dog days of summer!

Sweet Maggie. My little bit of Sunshine.

In love with the Hand Made

One of our favorite artisans, Shannon Sunderland send me this photo this morning. It captures everything I love about her jewelry and the pieces she creates. Each necklace, bracelet and charm is individually made and touched by her hands.

I was just in Chicago this weekend for this powerful Country Living "Entrepreneurs Conference", surrounded by inspired and inspiring women...most of them moms. The most common question moms asked, "What prompted you to start your business?" This is what Shannon had to say:

"When I first started my business, I gave jewelry to girlfriends and grandmothers in my family as gifts. Nearly every woman who received my jewelry with their baby's' name on it would cry. I realized I that making this work is a really amazing gift, for me as well as the recipient. This feeling of connectedness, of celebrating mothers and families, is what I love most about my work."

Mississippi Magnolia Tree

My boys were in Mississippi last week for their annual St Patrick's Day trek. They arrived home with scratched arms, scraped knees and sunburned necks... bursting with stories.

They ran around the neighborhood with a posse of boys, climbing to the furthest branch possible in hopes of catching an adult off guard with their whoops and hollers. Their favorite adventure included a century old Magnolia tree. They scaled the branches that could easily hold a dozen boys in its arms.

As they recounted their tale, I remembered how much I love to climb trees. I was often lost in trees around our neighborhood in search of a moment of quiet and cool. Children love to discover secret places, hidden away from the adult world.

Hmm. I, too, could use a good hiding place right about now!

The Ultimate Blog Party 2008

Come join the party over at the Ultimate Blog Party! You'll get a chance to meet some great people in the bloggisphere and possibly win some prizes. I haven't met that many people yet, but I'll bet you can guess what I'll be doing this weekend!