Turn Around and Swim

Life | Lessons | Laughter | Love


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Come in, Come in, Wherever You Are

This is a day I have dreaded for about a year. Due to my intense workout regimen I have busted up my abdomen area. In my quest to keep the age creeper flab away and get back to my postpartum times three and almost a decade later six-pack, I have possibly just landed myself a trip to the OR.

Now somewhere between chopping wood, mulching two acres of flower beds, a half marathon and a daily hauling of three kids, a briefcase, gym bag and purse, I caused an “uh-oh” to my abdomen region.  I am not sure at which point the abdomen busted but I have been told by non-medical professionals (painters, electricians, work-out buddies, etc.), probably any and all of the above have contributed to the issue.

What I can tell you is just a few weeks ago when picking up some sod, I had the same sensation like when you were in third grade gym class and a dodge ball gets thrown at your abdomen. Minus the actual getting the wind knocked out of me, I had all the same physical responses of being hit in the stomach.

So I figured perhaps it is time I get checked out by a professional medical doctor. Google Doc and WebMD have given me the information to make a self diagnosis, but rumor has it, I need a professional MD intervention. 

So, last week, I call the doctor’s office to schedule a consult for “getting hit in the stomach sensation” (non-medical terms need not apply).  I am going to bite the bullet and get to the doctor. It completely frustrates me to no end because the last thing I need on my to-do is a doctor’s appointment.  It is just not an in and out type of service and I do not live a life of leisure.  I have got to move it, move it. 
 
Now fast forward to today. I arrive at my appointment 10 minutes early to complete paperwork and undergo all the medical debriefing. This is also known as occupy the patient in the waiting room because we book patients in 8 minute intervals to keep the cash flow streaming in. This is not on knock on you, medical doctors. I get it!  I am in sales too and it is a numbers game.  Book along but please tell your staff to be upfront and honest!   Like when I asked if the doctor was running on time and the staff personnel replies, “Oh yes, yes, we will be right with you.”
 

THINK! (image taken from http://www.time.com)

So I sit and figure the whole jeopardy bonus round think song will play on in my head one time and they will call some version of me (because my name is never pronounced correctly) shortly thereafter.  Forty-five minutes later, Alex Trebek is still staring at me with the “mmm hmm hmm hmm” playing in my head.  Seriously, there was a patient staring at me and he looked like he could be a game show host so please do pretend. Oh and by the way, you are going to be humming that tune all day long now.  My apologies in advance.

So, now it is time to pull up the suspenders and get all tough. I give a little “knock-knock” on the frosted glass window and let her rip. I start ranting and raving about how this is not running on time and I have three kids and a babysitter that needs to get to Jazzercise, blah, blah, blah. Then I plead, “Please tell me again, why I was told the doctor is running on time?”  They give me some explanation of how the doctor is with a new patient (uh hum what am I?) and then they just stared at me. So I reply, “I do not want to be disrespectful but PLEASE GO FIND OUT!”  Now I knew that within minutes the waiting room to examining rooms hallway door would open and they would call some version of my name.

Sure enough, they were calling me back. I politely say, “No thank you. I will just sit here and schmooze with the other patients and watch daytime TV smack.” Rather than sit in a 9×9 room reading the Steris hand sanitizer label over and over again, right? Yet, the nurse assures me it would only be a few minutes.

Now don’t you just love how the first thing they do when you get in the examining room is take your blood pressure. As if the steam coming out of my ears is not enough of an indication of my systolic and diastolic pressure. Then after the whole debriefing for a second time, the door shuts and all I hear is the hum of the fluorescent lights. As I sit on the crispy white paper covering the cot, I begin reading the Steris hand sanitizer label (see I told you). I also now know the unapproved abbreviation codes for patient charting. Another thirty minutes goes by.

I have two options at this point. I can get out and go home with no medical consult or I can succumb myself to the over booking patient torture. At last, the door opens and in walks the doc. After a quick peek, a little pressure, a please cough and an elementary school drawing, he tells me I have a pulled muscle. Really?  

So a half a vacation day later, ten-dollar co-pay, the darn jeopardy melody that I cannot get out of my head and a slew of sitter fees, I am being told to take it easy? What is that?  Can you write me a prescription for “take it easy? Can you explain this to my family, colleagues and children?  Plus, doesn’t he know I have a huge appetite for working out?  In all honesty, I love my life and the craziness of the hustle and bustle.  I am not sure if I can ever “take it easy?”

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Our Daily Catch (Sunday Dinner Style)

"Freshly Pressed" Linens

Remember the days when you would wake up at dawn, grab the kids, your wicker baskets and head down to the local Farmer’s Market?   There you would pick up the freshest produce, fruits, butchered meats, raw dairy products and ingredients to prepare up Sunday dinner.  You might even grab a bouquet of flowers if yours were not in bloom yet to grace the dinner table.

Then after a small reflection somewhere to make peace for any sins you might have committed, you would head home to get dinner started.  It would take all day to mash, chop, saute, grill and bake.  Then the Sunday dinner guests would start arriving to include but not limited to your neighbors, family, friends, their children and sometimes their children’s kids (aka stuffed animals).  After dinner the ladies would talk smack over dish cleaning duty and the male species would head outside to get the contact sports started.  Then you would all gather before departure again to enjoy dessert, espresso and tea.  Do you remember that?

Yah, me neither.  Now perhaps it is because I have only been in existence for a 1/3 of my projected life span, but seriously, I do not think these days exist anymore.  Rather than invite friends over for Sunday dinner, we take a snapshot of our meal and post in on Facebook.  Right before the cinnamon buns go into the oven, we tweet about how we couldn’t get the dough “just right”.  Or actually we would be tweeting about how we almost lost an eye when the package popped because we didn’t “tear here” at the right place.  Then we would spend our entire dinner texting.

Has technology taken away Sunday dinner?  Does tweeting, emailing, texting and Facebook take the place of Sunday dinner?  I want to say it doesn’t or at least shouldn’t.  So, I am bringing Sunday dinner back.  As soon as I figure out how to do this, you will be getting an US Mail invite, personally handwritten by moi.

Here is a little sample of what you can expect.  We will begin our day by freshly pressing the linens.  We will get out our Fine China or in my case Made in China (nobody will know the difference) and properly set the table.  Yes, plastic is not happening here. We will even have two forks! We will sip our beverages in wine glasses and pint glasses.  Sorry SOLO it is a no go on Sundays.

We will head out to the local lake and grab our catch of the day.  Then our fillet specialist will de-skin our jewels.  We will clean them and batter them with the freshest ingredients.  We will use the best oil to fry them, lightly season and viola.  Our daily catch!

Our Daily Catch

We will anxiously await our guests while we prepare the other side dishes and baked treats.  Then we will spend the next few hours gathering around the table eating, reminiscing, eating some more, laughing and talking using face to face contact.  We may even be provided entertainment via my two-year olds rendering of “I’m Sexy and I Know it!”  Perhaps will head outside for some fresh air, play a few games and you will all venture home.

I will attend to the clean-up chores and before I crash out at the end of the day, I can tag you all in a photo of us saluting each other before meal consumption and upload it to Facebook.  Bon Appetit my friends; I’m bringing Sunday dinner back!  Coming soon to a mailbox near you!


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They Like Me, They Like Me Not?

20 Likes!

Congratulations on your 20th like on Turn Around and Swim.

Your current tally is 23.

Big news folks!  I received a congratulatory comment via WordPress that I have achieved 20 likes.  It is a start right?  Perhaps this level of achievement has scored me a Hershey Kiss?  A pat on the back? A who cares?  I love it though!  I feel like I just scored a “they like me” on the last petal in a game of “they like me, they like me not!”

They Like me, they Like me Not!

This accomplishment may mean I am officially out of rookie blogger status!  Not so fast, huh?  I just figured out how to change my Gravatar.  Which for the longest time I thought was another name for an alien-like figure.  Navigating through WordPress is user-friendly but I have a lot to learn.  I look up to you Freshly Pressed Blog Peeps as I feel like you are my very own personal mentors.  I have a tendency to like every Freshly Pressed post too!

I follow every blogger who has “liked” me and those that are now following me.  I think of it as a you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours kind of thing.  My blog is still on the down-low with the exception of my closest friends and family who I have bribed with baked delectables to follow my blog.  Even if they delete the posts upon receipt in their inbox; what we don’t know won’t hurt us, right?  I am fairly confident though, they like my posts but are just afraid to admit it right now.  That is fine by me as this is a no pressure event.  Really, take your time because I am not closing up shop!

One day I have big dreams of being Freshly Pressed and getting a million likes and watching my stats explode but until then, I love my twenty plus likes and sincerely thank the 10 of you who have liked a post here and there.  The other 13 likes I believe I liked my own posts.  It is not cheating – really it isn’t.  It would have been had I known about the 20 likes achievement status.

So, since I have no idea what the next level is (do I see two Hershey Kisses in my future), I will make a promise to play by the rules and omit liking my own posts.  Besides copyright infringement and plagiarism, are there any rules?  I know somewhere on a thing called a Dashboard there is a FAQ or rulebook, I’ll get there.  Persistency and patience are the keys to unlocking the door to Freshly Pressed.  Maybe having some real decent content too!

Anyways, thank you to all my blog followers and those of you who have liked me.  We will grow this baby together and I will always know who my firsts were, whether you were bribed or not!  You never forget your first followers, likers and commenters!  At least, I won’t.  Thank you from the tips of my fingers as you are the ones who keep me typing away!

Oh and by the way, right below here is a little tool bar that says:

  Like this: Like Be the first to like this post

Don’t be shy, go ahead…PRESS THE BUTTON!


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Know When to Wear it and Know When to Tear it

Mom and Business Owner

On similar principle of a gambling song, you also have to know when to walk away and when to run.  But since we are not hatching those chickens in this post, we will save that concept for a later time. 

The proud to wear it or just tear it is a debate I initiated with myself yesterday evening.  A friend forwarded me an article about the dynamics of combining motherhood and business owner into one label.  Perhaps if you were running a come play and make cupcakes company, then combine along.  If you operated a daycare, then my how the association of the two would make any parent feel soothed upon drop off of little Sally or baby Billy.  If your inflatable business needed a pick me up advertisement line, then the blending of the two titles, may lead to an instant sales boost.

The point is, yes, I do agree to an extent that incorporating mom and entrepreneur into one title would prove very rewarding and beneficial at the appropriate time and in the appropriate business setting.  But if you are about to provide closing arguments for your client’s defense on white-collar crime, I am sure the jury is out that they do not care that you are a mom.  If you are selling pharmaceuticals and meet with Dr. Illhearyourpitch, he may not be so interested in buying your happy pill just because you are a mother.  As both mother and business owner, I believe you have to pick and choose when to wear the “mom+entrepreneur” hat and when to tear it off. 

My number one priority is being a mother but I do not have to wear a label of “mom+entrepreneur” to remind myself, I am mother and business owner.  As if I am queen, now watch me soar.  Some people, clients, colleagues and business associates just do not care.  Whether they are parents or not.  Sometimes when we slip off the “mom hat” and slip into our power suit, we get that exhilarated feeling like I am back.  I still exist!  It is an empowerment to know we can transform from mom to business owner and back and forth. 

The juggle of the two makes us in a league of our own.  So, why would we need a special title adorning us?  I would like to think of it as our own very special club of which mothers who are also business owners only know the codes that lead to success at home and on the business field.  The most important one being, when to wear it and when not to wear it.  It is all about transformation and when working with a vast client base, sometimes it empowers you and other times it negates you.  So, you need to tweak your game plan and know when to put it on again and off again.

I am by no means saying you should hide motherhood or pretend those stretch marks are not tattooed to your abdomen under that power suit.  That would make you fake and who wants to do business with someone who is dishonest.  Own it and leave it at that.  You don’t have to walk around with an “I am Mom+Entrepreneur” t-shirt like you are queen of the business world.  Be proud you have accomplished so much and still manage to be all in for your kids and your company.  Keep the “mom+entrepreneur” secrets to the club members.  Knowledge is power.  Knowing when to wear it and when to tear it off is what makes us successful in business and in motherhood!

“Where woman has taken her place in business she has found her method ready-shaped for her, and following that, she does her work, if with a certain amount of monotony, yet without undue fatigue. Her hours are fixed, and as a rule she gets needful change of scene as she goes to her business and returns to her home or the place where she lives.”  – Anna C. Brackett


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Lessons I’ve Learned From My Children

At many times, parenthood can be all about leading by example, staying calm under pressure and navigating through rough waters.  I sometimes refer to it as a journey aboard Chaos 31.  There are moments when the 3:1 (31) ratio is a little turbulent.  Although at times I want to just throw up my hands and shout, “Someone help me out,” there is a lot to be learned amongst the chaos.  Trust me, it is not always apparent at first.  In fact, I have been at my wit’s end many of times when it comes to raising three little boys.

So often when I am out and about with the boys, strangers say things like, “bless you honey” and “there is a halo glowing above your head.”  When in turn they might be really saying, “we’ve been there child” or “gain control of your kids!”  Just because one child is playing shopping cart derby in the grocery aisle, while another is climbing Mt. Cereal and the youngest one is throwing dried blueberries at the other patrons, does not mean I do not have it under control.  It also doesn’t mean I have a halo or need extra blessings.  It simply means – I am a mother of three little boys.

While these three little boys may be rambunctious and well you know, busy being boys, I am learning from them each and every day.  Throughout random encounters with chaos and as the turbulent moments pass, I can reflect on the underlying meaning of a flight I did not think I would survive at the time.  When I un-board, take a step back and look at the destination traveled I am wiser for being a passenger on Chaos 31.  This is what I’ve learned in those extreme moments of turbulence…

1.  Always tell the truth.  Children do not lie.  In fact, many times they are brutally honest. Other times they are just inappropriately honest.  Like when you take your 4-year old to get his haircut by your hairdresser and he kindly tells her that you don’t take his other two brothers to her anymore because she doesn’t do a good job on them.  Oh yes, he did.  So, I look her into the eye and say, “Children ALWAYS tell the truth so I must have said that.”  Awkward as it was, it felt good to just own it and be honest.  I may have a permanent wave next time I leave the salon, but at the end of the day, I told the truth.

2.  Get down and dirty every now and then.  Boys love mud, dirt and sand.  They will find it at every turn on every corner in every major city.  It doesn’t matter if there is an inch of a dirt-like substance, one of the three boys is in it and covered with it.  So often as adults we fear dirt and it’s counterparts.  Like the muddy situation with a co-worker or friend, the dirt the dog just tracked in or the sandy water that clouds our vision.  Before wiping it clean, dabble in it for a bit.  Get down and see the world at dog’s view.  Approach the co-worker or friend about the situation at hand rather than avoiding it.  You never just know, the dirty lens may have the focus you need to see into the future.

Make the Most of a Messy Situation

Play in a Puddle

3.  Play in a puddle and dance in the rain.  I am always telling the boys to watch out  for the puddles or get out of the rain.  Why exactly do we parents tell our children this?  Well, I understand if they have their Sunday best on then perhaps this would be a good idea, but why every other time do we find ourselves requesting these demands?  One day I stepped in a puddle after being caught in the rain and was so frustrated.  Adults find adversity so unbearable while children simply embrace it.  It is not always about the circumstance but how we react to it that will make all the difference.

4.  Stuffed animals do have a purpose.  I used to go on a quarterly purge event.   When my children were sound asleep having visions of Kung Fu Panda and Diego in their heads, I would grab a trash bag and discard their plush pets.  Then one day I came home from visiting my grandmother at Hospice and while pulling into the driveway, I saw Simba perched in our maple tree.  When I proceeded into the house, Elmo was hanging by his feet from our second floor balcony.

When Plush Animals Come to Life

I no longer do a quarterly purge event because I have seen my children in “Make Believe Action” with their plush buddies.  I have seen stuffed animals be aliens, cousins and teachers.  They go on road trips and eat meals with us.  They have been the influence of creativity in out home for almost a decade. And now that my grandmother has passed, I think of how these plush toys also knew broken English.  That’s right, my little Nonna used them as props to entertain my boys and those memories do not deserve to be purged.

5.  When you fall, get up,  dust yourself off and get back at it.  As a mother of three fearless boys I have had my share of watching horrific falls.  Yet, what always ceases to amaze me is how quickly they wipe the tears and go right back at what they were doing.  So, every time I fall and hit the bottom, I think of my boys and pick myself back up.  Bruised I may be, but nevertheless, I am back on my feet.

6.  Hugs heal what band-aids can’t.  When the boys get bumps and bruises and ask for a band-aid a few minutes later, they are still upset that they are still hurting.  Band-Aids do not heal wounds, they cover them up.  How often do we cover up our true feelings to avoid exposure?  How about just opening up and being vulnerable?  When they proceed to hurt, I tear off the band-aid and hug them instead.  Instantly, they feel better.  Hugging someone is worth more than the band-aid we sometimes offer as a way to heal the wound.

Have you Hugged Someone Today?

7.  Always say good night three times.  We’ve all been there, that narrator alongside Samuel Jackson and just want to say to our little munchkins, go the bleep to sleep.  But I often think of all the people, while they remain in my heart, are not hear physically that I wish I could kiss goodnight just one more time.  I try to remain mindful when I am tired and just want the boys to go to sleep.  When I am mindful, I get less frustrated and am so grateful I have the opportunity to kiss them goodnight for the second and third time.

8.  Wake up before the sun rises.  If you have young children you know all about this.  Yet, because we are up bright and early we have observed some amazing things.  We have seen storm clouds rolling in and out.  A baby bird hatching from its egg,

The Early Bird Gets the Worm

sunrises and a double rainbow once.  The sun and moon both canvassing the sky at the same time and even shooting stars.  It is the one time of our day, that we can bond uninterrupted, for more than two minutes.  Some of the most magical things happen pre-dawn.

9.  All living things are beautiful in their own unique way.  I love those summer nights when the boys chase fireflies or during the springtime when they are digging to find earthworms.  During the winter, they follow the animal tracks in hopes of finding reindeer and bunnies.

Don't Judge a Book by It's Cover

They look for ants with magnifying glasses and chase geese in the park.  They do not judge based on size, shape or living environment.  Pretty amazing stuff if we could do the same.

10.  Climb, climb and climb some more.  My how boys love to climb.  It seems as if they can never get high enough.  I have witnessed them maneuver stools over pillows on top of chairs to get to what they are trying to reach.  They just do not give up.  As adults we begin to climb and get tired or discouraged and give up so easily.  Stack those pillows, climb on that furniture and reach for that goal!

The View from the Top

So, there you have it, the many things I have learned from my little boys.  Perhaps they should be the ones with halos as they are my little angels.  It may be a turbulent ride from time to time aboard Chaos 31, but the lessons learned are worth the journey.

“Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.”

– Chuck Palahniuk


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2012 Global Warming Fashion Trends

Hot and Cold

There has been an extreme weather pattern in my neck of the woods I call home.  One day the high is 32 degrees and snow showers and the next day it is sunny and 71 degrees.  Along with a sinus infection in the making and spring blooms not knowing whether to poke up or go back under, fashion sense is also a bit misconstrued.

You can’t really go from 4-5 months of boot wearing and wool socks to open toe shoes overnight unless you are adorning a neat little pedicure.  Not to mention the presence of the soft pale skin tone.  Shorts and mini’s are just not in high demand fashion unless you fake and bake.  So along with those people and their what to wear and what not to wear dilemmas are those that invent their own global warming attire.

So, in observation this past week of “fashion gone wild,” I have compiled a list.  Perhaps someone can shed light on this list and offer their thumbs up, down or just shout out a big, “Hell No!”

What to wear, what not to wear...that is the question?

“The List” of Fashion Trends for Global Warming Attire

1.  A yarn cap straight out of grandma’s leftover, going to make little June Bug a hat, yarn bin paired with a muscle shirt and extreme snow pants.  Perhaps this is just an example of shedding the layers.

2.  Wool turtleneck, skorts (they still make these?) and ballet wedge shoes.  This just has “heavy on the top” written all over it.

3.  North Face Extreme Weather Ski coat, flip-flops and shorts.  The only thing I can think of here is that the coat weighs about 75 lbs and too heavy to carry by arm.

 4.  Chartreuse green caution vest, mountain hiking pants and snow boots accesorized with a flying kite.  I guess the only caution here would be if a hawk or trumpeter swan mistook the kite for another fowl and swiped you and the kite away.

 5.  Sports bra, with tee-shirt tied around head like a scene from Rambo and yoga pants.  No thoughts other than someone might strike First Blood.

 6.  Camouflage vest, cowboy hat, spandex shorts, wool knee highs and rope sandals.  This is Army gone Nashville on a ten speed through J. Crew with final destination to the Vatican.

 7.  Bikini top with jeans and high heels to take a stroll in the park.  Unless you are a Victoria Secret Model doing a Spring nature shoot, what are you doing?

Well folks, there you have it.  A few cases of severe FPD or Fashion Personality Disorder.  The weather is so confusing it has caused a major wardrobe crisis in these parts where snow meets pool season in twelve hours.

So, if in your parts you have struggled with weather highs and lows, please feel free to let us know some bizarro outfits that have been adorning your streets.  Feel free to snap a shot with the wearers permission of course.

Now head out, grab a sno-cone, dance in a puddle with your caution vest and Rambo gear!  Oh and don’t forget to strike a pose!


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The Nice Factor Or All About Karma

The Nice Factor Or All About Karma

Today I had minutes to kill.  Imagine that, twenty minutes all to myself.  So I ventured to grab a few new workout outfits.  I mean really, if you are going to sweat like a menopausal woman without a face towel, then at least look cute doing it.  By the way, I have a soft heart for you ladies.  I too will someday be dripping with sweat while eating ice cream and spritzing myself with a misty fan.  Don’t you worry.  I am not poking fun, I feel for you!

Anyways, I grabbed some goodies and can’t wait to squeeze myself into the Duo-Dry, Ultra-Light, Super Fitted Capris.  Yet, I might need to sweat it out in a sauna just to maneuver into these bad boys!  See, if I was menopausal I could just go about my day.  Now I have to clock into a dry heat box just to induce a sweat.  I’m telling you ladies, all that sweat is a blessing in disguise.

Alright, enough sweat talk as it is getting stinky in here.  So, while proceeding to the checkout I realized I was up against a mom with her preschool aged son.  So I began to walk faster, getting my hips into it, got the arms in full swing mode and alas, third place with her falling right behind in fourth.  So, I had two people in front of me in this fifteen lane checkout spread with #5 being the only lane open.

"proceed to checkout"

Yet, I started to feel horrible.  Why was I in such a hurry to beat this woman into the line?  We are both waiting here now side by side.  I sort of felt bad that I saw her in “proceed to checkout”motion and I threw down the Clorox wipes to beat her.  I guess that’s my competitive edge reminding me, “You go girl!”

Now typically I would be frustrated that there were eight store employees having a glee ‘ole time stocking the latest shipment of greeting cards while we had a now six person liner going on.  But remember, I had minutes to kill.  No rushing, what an exhilarating feeling!

Then the mom with the preschool aged kid started swaying back and forth at the glee pumped up employees stocking the cards and then back to the front of the line.  Then it started, the potty dance.  That anxious I have to go (not necessarily potty) but have to get us out of here to our next destination, like school, movement.  Yes, just like when a little kid has to take a whiz and they start swaying and rubbing their inner thighs together in hopes they will remain continent.  She had that going on because she needed to go…somewhere.  Then she proceeded to say to her son, “Oh honey, we really have to go but you also need to buy this gift for your after school Birthday Party.  Oh why do they have so many employees over there and only one register open? Maybe I should go ask them?”

Now, I must make huge reference here that this frantic mother had a respectable amount of composure to her calamity and frustration.  Despite the rocking and swaying like she was about to pee her pants in agitation, she remained very calm.  I admire her for that! Her son, who she was venting to, did not hear a word she was saying aloud to him as he was fixated on the conveniently placed candy bar display.

By the way, candy maker marketing executives, this is the most improper marketing tactic ever invented.  As if the guy with ten more pounds to go or the mom who just navigated through the store with her children is not hard enough, you have to cause us more friction by your conveniently placed candy display?  So the man with no will power has to be tempted with an array of high fructose laden, highly processed candy that he just cannot say no to?  What about the poor mom with screaming kids who desperately need to have candy or they will be scarred for life needing therapy if they don’t get a Whatchamacallit?  Just not fair to do this to us while we try to wait patiently in the checkout lane.  Just wrong, really!

Well enough said!  Now I was next in line and there was no hesitation on my end to give up my spot to this mama that I so desperately had to beat countless minutes prior.  My how irony works.

So, I let mama and son go ahead of me and she shyly said, “Oh thanks, you’re nice!”.  As if most people are not these days.  I overheard her mention to her candy bar fixated child, “We could have been really late for school.”  I should have felt REAL proud but if only she knew how I threw down the Clorox to beat her into the checkout line.  I felt horrible because I really was not as nice as she thought I was.

But I did have Karma on my side.  Or did I? Can Karma read minds? Could it know I had all intentions of taking her down to beat her into line?  Or does it forgive and allow for redemption?

A wise friend, in Yoda-like fashion, once told me, “what comes around, goes around and comes all the way back around.”  She may have borrowed the advice from a Justin Timberlake song, but nevertheless, I jumped on the Karma wagon.  I might be going out on a limb here, but I do feel Karma will be on your side, if in the end, you make the better decision.

So, next time I have three kids in tow, staring down the glee pumped up employees stocking “Thinking of You” cards while the kids are bugging me for candy all while I do the potty dance of frustration because I need to proceed on out of here, Karma might just step back and say, “You go next!”  And as another wise person once said, in not so Yoda fashion,  

“Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something – your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.”
– Steve Jobs

So, I ask, do you believe in Karma or is it strictly because “Nice Matters”?