The Nice Experiment

It's hard to be nice. We found that out this month. I charged the kids (and myself) with doing one nice thing every day in December. By about the 10th, the kids had lost steam and interest and I found it difficult to do something especially kind each day.

We didn't set out to do anything incredibly profound; we brought coffee for Ben's teacher and dropped off some secret Santa presents for some special people. We let a woman ahead of us in line as she juggled her shopping as well as her baby, his car seat, and a toddler covered from ear to ear in chocolate. We also helped four different families that were struggling this holiday season.

I was a bit disappointed by the experiment at first. It seemed like we were failing at our random niceness exercise. Then it hit me. I realized that maybe we didn't need to be doing it in the first place.

Ben couldn't report back a nice act for the day, but that didn't mean that he hadn't been doing nice things. Every day he ties his classmate's shoelaces before his own because she doesn't know how to do it herself yet. He shares toys, is considerate of others, and goes out of his way to make sure those around him are happy.

Carmen shrugged when I asked about her nice acts but she too was already doing them. She will stay in at recess to sit with a friend who was not feeling well. She shares her prized possessions -- her books -- with friends who she thinks would enjoy them. She thinks of other people's feelings and is upset when they are sad or hurting or mistreated.

And I live my life on the premise that you reap what you sow, do unto others and all that. I try to be thoughtful and considerate and, although I don't always succeed, I think I am a generally kind, nice person.

Now I know that we don't have to set out to find nice things to do for others. We just need to keep doing what we've been doing. I can't tell you how proud of my family that makes me. We are nice after all!

Shopping Hell -- A Crude Adaption of Jingle Bells

Dashing through the mall

On a shortbread sugar high

Crowds of people pushing,

I think I just might cry.

Bells on store doors jingle

Mocking those who shop,
Just what was I thinking
To even make this stop?

Shopping hell, shopping hell

Shopping all the day.
Oh what fun it’d be to leave
This shopping mall today.

A day or two ago

I thought I had it all
A gift for kith and kin
And no trips to the mall.

But there are gifts outstanding

That I really have to find
So off to fight the shopping folks --
I’ve lost my frickin’ mind!

Shopping hell, shopping hell,

Shopping all the day.
Oh what fun it’d be to leave
This shopping mall today. 

Lines as far as eyes can see

And nothing on the shelves
What I wouldn’t give to have
A slew of shopping elves!

Scowling clerks and workers

Wishing they weren’t here.
They really don't seem to have
An ounce of Christmas cheer.

Throwing elbows, pushing past

This isn’t that much fun!
I guess it’s cash in stockings
For each and every one!

Shopping hell, shopping hell

Shopping all the day.
Oh what fun it’d be to leave
This shopping mall today.

Spa Adventure

So I guess I should have known this spa day wouldn't go smoothly right from the hop. I got a Groupon coupon from a place I'd never been and took my mom along as a birthday present to her. We settled into the chairs to wait and I grabbed their brochure to pass the time. The first thing I saw was:

And I, being the one who made Bryce go get a different brand of pregnancy test to confirm the positive result because the instructions were riddled with typos, should have gotten up and walked out. But I didn't. I figured at least they spelled ladies right -- that was something.

We went in, plopped our feet in the basin of water, and the ladies powered up the massage chairs. I've never felt anything like it -- I was being pounded, karate chopped, and damn near expelled from my chair by an overly aggressive masseuse. With the bar rolling and poking, it was far from relaxing despite the aesthetician's big smile and repeated protestations of "Nice! Nice!" with a convincing nod. When it started squeezing my hips and then nearly violating me with some sort of intrusive bum shot, I quickly found the power button and turned it off. 

The rest of the foot portion went fine and then we went off to get our finger nails done. I told the girl that I don't like my cuticles cut and I can only assume that her English isn't great. I'll have to  learn how to say "Stop!" in Vietnamese. She promptly sliced my finger and I sat there bleeding for a few minutes before she noticed and put some stuff on it to prevent infection. Or at least I hope that's what it was. If I get staph from this I'll be seriously pissed!

She pulled out the clippers and started snipping away at my long, rounded nails. She may have asked me if that was okay but I can't be sure. I couldn't quite figure out when she was talking to me in English and when she was talking to her friend in Vietnamese. But, hey, I'm up for a change. She squared off my nails, painted them, and whisked me away to get my eye brows waxed. And here was another brochure warning that went unheeded:

She set me down, slathered the hot wax thickly on my eye "browns" and started tearing. She tweezed a bit and sent me on my way, glowing red but less hairy.

It wasn't until I got to the car and actually looked at my nails that I noticed all of the nails on my left hand are at a slant. A very noticeable slant. I'm talking a good 45 degree angle. How did I not notice that? And my eye brows, or rather browns, were patchy and require a bit of homework to make them right, or at least right enough to go out in public. My finger throbbed on my unevenly manicured finger and Ben asked me and my mom if we were hot or sunburned because we looked red.

It was a gong show from start to finish but it was well worth it in the laughs Mom and I shared, especially after we compared war stories.  While we may look elsewhere next time we need a mani-pedi, this place was certainly memorable! 

Blast from the Past

There are few things that make you feel quite as old as being reminded how many years it has been since you graduated from high school. And this year, that number is a whopping 2-0! It is nuts to think it has been two decades since I left Scarlett, full of dreams for the future and excitement for the unknown possibilities that lay ahead.

A reunion of sorts was planned for this past weekend -- an evening at Schanks started on Facebook and spread to alumni by word of mouth. I had a great experience in high school and thought it would be fun to see some faces from my past and catch up with old friends. It was funny to see how little things have changed in 20 years!

I met up with some girlfriends at Misty's house first, where they had some pre-reunion drinks and we chatted. Then, like in the 90s, we loaded into the car and I drove everyone to the bar. Granted, now it's a minivan with remote door openers, but the spirit is the same.

When we got to the bar, there were people I haven't seen since graduation and others that I have seen off and on over the years and still others I see regularly and are among my best friends. Everyone looked pretty much the same as they did in high school. Some had a little bit less hair, a few wrinkles, a couple of extra pounds, but all-in-all we all looked like we did in school. And the personalities are the same -- the social butterflies of the past are still flitting, the party animals remain the life of the party, and the quieter ones stay in their comfort zones with the people they know best.

We all chatted about old times, our new lives, and shared a lot of laughs. We found out about friends-of-friends who couldn't make it, and I know I missed a few of my best friends from high school who weren't able to be there. But it was so great to reconnect with the people who were a big part of my teen life and shaped who I am today. Of course, staying out until 2 am was a lot easier as a kid (thank God I still don't drink or it would have been really ugly Sunday, right Shawna?!) but it was well worth it! I just hope it isn't another 20 years before I see a lot of these faces again.

Inspired

There is so much tragedy in the world and all too often we feel unable to make a difference so we don't try. I feel helpless and ineffectual in times of crisis so I end up doing nothing at all. Sure, Carmen and I volunteer off and on at Inn from The Cold, and we adopt a family at Christmas with a group of friends, but when it comes to large scale catastrophes, I find it paralyzing.

Last September I met a mom named Tania who doesn't let anything stand in her way. Our sons play on the same hockey team and over a season of 6 am practices and weekend tournaments, we have gotten to know each other. She's the kind of person I admire: she tells it like it is, does what she believes is right no matter what anyone else might think or say, and she's ultra-involved in her community. Her kids are funny and polite -- and that doesn't happen by accident! Tania has an amazing energy and personality, and you can't help but be drawn into her crazy and wonderful life.

She is always talking about various charities she's involved in and the importance of giving back, even in small ways, especially since she feels so fortunate for her blessings. When something terrible happens, she thinks of what she can do to help while others sit wringing their hands tsk-tsking about what a horrible thing it is.

Tania jumped into action this week after watching news about the Slave Lake fires. She asked people to donate toiletries and such to help make these victims' lives a bit more normal in an unimaginably hard time, and she has arranged to have it delivered where it is needed. It makes me realize that while we might not be able to make enormous change, we can make the little ones that will make a difference.

Ben and I went to the store and picked up some things to add to her boxes, and I explained to him about why we were doing it. I told him that these people had nothing and with these little packages and treats, we could help them with the basics and let them know that they're not alone.

I'm so thankful to Tania for setting such a good example for my kids and for me too. She's a true inspiration.

Lost and (sometimes) Found

I am the finder of lost things. More accurately I'm the looker but not always the finder of lost things. It boils down to the same thing: I spend most of my time searching for misplaced stuff.

It's usually time sensitive material that I'm looking for-- household objects that can be taken to school and used to represent textures for a feeling strip Carmen is making that morning. A mitten that Ben HAS to have and that is way better than the other six complete pairs sitting on the bench ready to go--all at 3 minutes until we have to be out the door. A tiny accessory for a tiny toy that requires a microscope and tweezers just to locate and reattach.

I am the one searching the pantry for granola bars while packing lunches with one hand and serving breakfast with the other. More often than not I find myself elbow deep in fridge crispers looking for the cheese sticks that I could have sworn were in there and shuffling through recipe boxes for the muffin recipe I need to get the soccer snacks ready to go for 6.

I am the one sifting through laundry to find the Boston Bruins t-shirt Ben needs to wear to cheer the team on during the playoffs. I am the finder of missing library books that are four days late as it is and of matching socks -- although I still have seven or eight similar but not quite the same socks sitting on my dryer waiting for mates.

I think of what I would get accomplished if mine weren't the only eyes that could locate the peanut butter on the shelf or the Transformer's dismembered arm or the dog's leash or the pink hoodie. I think of all the free time I'd enjoy if I didn't spend my days crawling under couches in pursuit of Nerf bullets or scouring the floor for lost game pieces or digging through toy bins for a favourite stuffed animal.

Maybe the kids will grow up and stop losing things, or at least start finding them on their own. Then I'll take up a hobby, learn another language maybe, write a book, read a newspaper cover to cover in one sitting. Until then, I guess I'll just keep my eyes peeled. I have stuff to find.

Nerds

My name is Rennay and I'm a nerd.

It feels good to admit it. That's the first step, I've heard. So there it is: I am a nerd. I'm not a pocket-protector-wearing, lives-in-my-mom's-basement, indulges-in-role-playing-games kind of nerd, but rather a can-carry-on-a-conversation-and-has-basic-social-skills nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.

I thought I had my nerdiness under control but this weekend I realized that I really don't. The kids were each at sleepovers, Bryce was at a hockey tournament, and I had the house to myself. I could have done anything, gone anywhere. What did I do? I did put some time in on the elliptical (which is impressive) and then I read my book for a few hours. Then I read Carmen's book because I had told her Judy Blume was my favourite growing up and I couldn't remember the story line to back up that claim. Then I did about 10 crossword puzzles, both online and ones I print off from the newspaper. Lastly, I played a little online Boggle. That was an eye opener -- it turns out I'm still the geeky kid who brought books on road trips and worked hard in school and got annoyed by typos on billboards.

But is it really so bad to read a couple books a week or play Scrabble or jot down words I don't know so I can look them up later (too far?) or get so excited to see Carmen devouring books like I did and do or get revved up about new episodes of Big Bang Theory? It could be worse. Hell, we nerds can be cool. We've just got to lose the pocket protectors.

Resolutions

Christmas is over, 2010 is a mere memory, and I have high hopes for a great 2011. In past years I have made promises to myself in January that never really saw the light of March. This year I am doing things a bit differently. I have made only one resolution for 2011: to do away with resolutions altogether. So far so good. It's a good thing I made that resolution too -- I would have been disappointed in myself quite early into the new year. Between ducking into the pantry to scarf down leftover Christmas chocolates without the kids seeing or spending days on end as an extention of the couch, huddled under a cozy blanket instead of on the elliptical trainer sweating out the tonnes of cookies and treats I've indulged in over the past month, I would have failed at my traditional resolutions. Instead of resolutions I've just vowed to do my best to treat me a bit better: maybe get back to the gym or at least increase the physical activity, cut out some of the crappy food that has become a habit, see friends more, and make time for me so that I'm less of a raging lunatic around here. Fingers crossed it will be a calm, healthy, and happy year.