Choose amazing

I have a problem.

When it's extremely hot outside, I become a repeater.

The phrasing may vary from "It's hot," "It's so hot out here," to "I'm hot," but one thing's for sure, it's always repeated.

Last weekend the temperatures soared.  With the heat index, at times it felt like 105 degrees.

Even our friends who were visiting from South Carolina thought it was hot and that's saying something when you're from South Carolina.

Unfortunately, I couldn't stop myself from complaining and repeating since we spent most of the weekend outdoors.

I had to be annoying our guests.  I know I was annoying myself. And then, I remembered a story.

Recently, I noticed a friend wearing a "hair tie" on his wrist.

Since he has more of a buzz cut than enough hair for a man bun, I figured he was holding on to it for his wife.

Later he explained that the coated rubber band served a purpose.

Every time he has a negative thought, he pops the band against his wrist to "snap out of it."

As the blistering sun beat on my face, I considered putting a hair tie around my wrist to snap myself every time I moaned, "It's hot."

But, I quickly realized my wrists would become raw and bloody. And when it comes to pain, I'm also a repeater and no one would have wanted to hear about that.

So I devised a new plan focusing on positivity.

Every time I said something about the heat, I replaced the word "hot" with "amazing."

Suddenly, I was repeating, "It's an amazing day!" "It's amazing out here." "What an amazing day."

Before I knew it, my outlook changed.

Just using the word "amazing" made me smile.

Even though I continued to repeat myself, at least I sounded positive.

From now on, I will try to remind myself that anything can be amazing... sitting in traffic, a long line at the grocery store, bad service at a restaurant and any extreme weather.

I've read that the east coast will be colder than usual this winter.

Surely, my new found coping method will come in handy when it arrives.

I guess I can say, I'm looking forward to one amazing winter and I repeat... amazing.

What an amazing day at the baseball game! Only 105 degrees!

Same time, same feeling

I wonder when the sight of them won't make me sad.

This time of year, I run into them often and every time I do, my heart drops.

Today, I watched the two of them smiling and laughing together as they walked through the shopping center parking lot.

After they put their purchases in her trunk, she gave him a hug goodbye since they had arrived in separate cars.

The hug was something I hadn't seen before.

As I passed them, I couldn't resist letting them know how I felt.

I rolled down my window and said, "You two have to stop breaking my heart."

"I'm sneaking in hugs while I can," she said.

I certainly understood that.

Although I didn't actually know them, I knew exactly who they were.

A mother and her son preparing for him to leave for college.

Their purchases gave them away, a collegiate comforter, a bed topper and a trash can shaped like a basketball hoop.

My son and I had bought similar things when we were doing the same thing.

As I drove away, I felt a lump in my throat.

Six years after college shopping with my son, I'm crying at the stoplight.

When my son graduated two years ago, he moved to New York City.

After 23 years, our house was permanently child free.

Even though I've adjusted to the so-called "empty nest" and love my life with my husband, I still miss my children.

Of course, they come home to visit for long weekends and holidays.

But that's just it.

It's a visit.

When they're home, life as we knew it returns.

Coffee on the back porch, dinner around the kitchen table, chocolate chip cookies made from a refrigerated roll, lounging around the family room.

Just "breathing each other's oxygen," I like to joke.

For a few days, I get my old job back. I am a mom taking care of my children.

I sleep soundly through the night knowing my family is under one roof.

It never lasts long enough.

Maybe one day I will look at a mother and son shopping for college and think, I'm glad that's not me.

But not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Quite honestly, I love the memory despite the tears.

I love all of the memories.

To my children I say, thank you for coming home when you can and for warmly welcoming us when we visit.

To my husband I say, isn't it great we have the dog!

Those were the days

One fun parking attendant

Between my eyes and my brain, I stay entertained.

Yesterday, I saw a parking lot with a sign that said, "Parking by Permit Only."

However, my eyes saw something far more fun!

I laughed as my brain interpreted the sign, "Parking by Kermit Only."

Of course, the sign said, "permit."

But just imagine...

Parking for Green cars only!

A recipe for laughter

When it comes to cooking, I'm far from a fancy chef.

I've always had trouble following recipes due to my reading comprehension problems.

Or, maybe it's just because I'm a lazy reader.

Either way, I steer clear from complicated recipes and stick to making easy dishes that seem as though I've cooked up something special.

The other day, a friend of mine came over for lunch.

At the last minute, I decided to make a quick chicken salad using a pre-cooked rotisserie chicken.

I mixed the chicken, mayo, celery and salt and pepper.

And, voila!

A chicken salad lunch worthy of a follow up text from my friend saying she wanted my recipe.

I felt like a snappy, gourmet chef with my "chic" salad.

A day later, my husband was getting ready to make a chicken sandwich with the leftover rotisserie chicken.

"I'm happy to make you a chicken salad sandwich," I said.  "My friend wanted the recipe," I bragged.

Proudly, I added, "She even referred to it as 'chic' and it was just chicken, mayo and celery."

That's when it hit me and I burst out laughing.

I grabbed my phone to re-read the text from her.

This is what she said:

"Thanks for lunch. I need your chic salad recipe."

And, I responded:

"Haha, not so chic. Got a cooked chicken from the grocery store and added celery and mayo. Super chic!"

No wonder her followup text message was one of those emoticons with a crazy eye and the tongue sticking out as if my response was a little nutty.

As I read her comment carefully, it wasn't "chic" as in elegant and sophisticated.

It was "chic" as in the plain, old abbreviation for chicken.

Moral of my story:

Laugh at yourself.  Even at your flaws. You will always have something to make you smile.

A chic chic!

"Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused." - unknown