What Are You Staring At?

Back in the day, if you caught someone staring, you’d say, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” Now no one looks at each other, and all we do is take pictures. Like thousands of pictures. And I bet 90% of them are of the most mundane things!

In the grocery store the other day, my daughter was taking pictures of the shelves of pickles. I asked her, “Are you afraid you’ll forget this moment? Do you need this documentation for later reference?” She rolled her eyes. “It’s aesthetic, mom.” Aesthetic? I’ll show you aesthetic, child.

The next morning I dragged her out of bed and drove her to a state park. We hiked several miles through the woods to a waterfall. We sat and stared at the flowing water. I interrupted the serenity of the moment and said to her, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

I got a side-eye, but then she whipped out her phone and started taking countless pictures of our natural surroundings. Then, on the hike back to the car, she stared at all the photos she took, and tripped over several tree roots in the process.

Staring is often considered rude, but I say stare away. Stare at the clouds changing shapes. Stare at the ocean waves rolling in. Stare at the sun rays filtering through the canopy of rustling leaves. Stare at the hummingbird hovering over the feeder. Stare at the face of your loved ones. Stare at the moon and the twinkling stars. Stare at a field of wildflowers dancing in harmony. Stare at a horde of fireflies putting on a light show. And once your eyes get tired, take a picture so it’ll last longer.

Wonder Years

My daughter’s 5th grade year just came to an end, but right before they ushered the students out the door, the teachers delivered the Human Growth and Development Unit. Remember that awkward time when the boys and girls enter separate classrooms to learn about puberty and all the associated topics? And everyone is uncomfortable and embarrassed when discussing what is about to happen to them? My daughter ensured that I had to live it twice by texting me audio clips of the teacher’s messages, and always followed them up with a frowny face emoji. I might as well have named her Peter, because she does not want to grow up. But I know she wonders. She asks me questions and tells me the crazy stuff she overhears on the bus, seeking the truth.

Thinking back on my wonder years, I thought everything was strange and exciting. I felt the angst of coming of age. I felt curious and confused. I struggled when trying to piece everything together and make sense of it all. And I was always wondering about what the future held.

At that age I wanted to be a part of everything, and be the best at anything. I compared myself to everyone. I had unsupported goals and extravagant dreams. Everything was a big deal, but it also wasn’t. I knew I was liked, but I also wasn’t so sure why. Back then I wondered what everyone thought of me. Now I just want to figure out what I think of myself.

Recently, I was chatting with a friend about plans for the summer, and that my daughter would be away at camp for most of her break. My friend said, “Do something you’ve been wanting to do.” I joked and replied, “I’d really like to take a nap!” But then I started wondering, what do I want to with myself? I wonder, if I weren’t a mom, and I didn’t have to work for a living, what would I do? Who would I be? I am having a self-imposed identity crisis!

Now that I think about it, I’m back in my wonder years. And until I figure it all out, I guess I’ll just keep on wondering. I mean, not all who wonder are lost, right?!

Resolutions Are For Old People

I don’t remember when I started making resolutions, but I’m sure it wasn’t when I was a child.

Eat right? Get a new job? Save money? Spend more time outside, exercising, getting organized, being productive? As a child, I either did them without plan, or didn’t need to.

Hmmm… I resolve to be more childlike.