This video moved me to goosebumps and tears; I just had to share.
Edited to add the finished product ;
Early in the morning through bleary eyes, I peer out across the sun lit room at my child, and a grin slowly forms on my lips as I think to myself;
“I LOVE my Feral little child.”
Sitting cross-legged on the floor wearing only his PJ bottoms, with his fuzzy blanket draped around him like an animal skin of sorts, with his long, wild and crazy hair all messed up and draped over his shoulders; he really does look like a feral child!!
He looked back at me, and I fully expected him to say “Me Leon, You Mommy, Me hunt and gather food, You wait here.” instead I got “Mooooom, I am huuuuungreeeeeey!” To which I replied, “Me Mommy, me tired, go now, ask your father to forage for food”; his reply … “you’re weird!”
Yes, yes I am!
I later opened up my laptop to look up the meaning behind “feral child” , I wanted to be sure I was thinking of the right word. Wikipedia not only spit out the meaning, but provided a picture in example as well:
Oh look!! It’s a picture of my very own sweet child!
It looks just like him!!! At least I think it does.
It’s fitting though, and not just because he looks like a feral child with his hair all tangled, and mussed up, going in all different directions. But also, because he is a wild child at heart. And I mean that in the best possible way.
He certainly dances to the beat of his own drummer. As I’ve often maintained, he is a strong-willed child with a mind of his own, and once it is made up there is no changing it.
Such as it is with his long luscious locks, which I am happy to say, we have learned to tame (somewhat anyway).
He made up his mind to grow his hair long just short of 2 years ago in January of 2010, I remember the date because I blogged about it here.
It was late in January when he came home all excited about doing the Math-a-thon to raise money for St Jude Children’s’ Hospital and helping other kids his own age, who were sick with cancer. It was on that day that he asked if he could donate his hair to the kids at St. Judes. When we told him he would have to have a lot more hair than what had just recently grown out from his mohawk, he said he didn’t mind at all.
I also told him that it would probably take him a few years before he would have enough to donate. It didn’t phase him one bit. Both Ron and I were pretty proud of him for wanting to do this, but we also thought it would not last. Boy were we wrong. It’s been two years and he still has an inch or two more to grow before he can donate it. Despite being picked on and teased in summer camp, and consistently being called a girl by strangers, he is more determined than ever to reach his goal.
We’ve come a long way….
In the end it will be so worth it. And that long hair suits him, it suits his personality. And yes he does occasionally look like a feral child, possibly raised by monkeys. It was after all just yesterday that I caught my wild little child in the act of standing on his chair in the pizzeria attempting to swing on the lamp that hung above his table. But no matter how wild my little child gets or looks, he will always be MY little wild child!
“I LOVE my Feral little child.”
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY to all my favorite M.O.M.M.’s
You are all;
You are all Super Women; who have touched me, taught me, inspired me, and helped to shape who I have been, who I am, and who I will become as a girl, a daughter, a woman, a friend, a wife, a mother and as a person!
I dedicate this page to you;
From SuburbanPediatrics.org :
Often, as parents we are tired! Frazzled by never-ending obligations, we sometimes neglect to fully engage with our kids. Try to enjoy the little parenting moments as they happen.
From The Unemployed Mom Blog:
by The Unemployed Mom on 06/10/09 at 3:32 pm I find it amusing that some people think a Stay At Home Mom (SAHM) does nothing all day long. While we may not have a written job description, we do have a very important obligation which is taking care of our children. My blog title “The Unemployed Mom” is a complete oxymoron, which is typically why I receive laughs when people hear it. Anyway, I wanted to share a few thoughts about being a SAHM and let people know more about what we do.
I have held a variety of professional positions and being a SAHM is by far the job I am most proud of (and as mentioned above, it is one of the most exhausting)! My child is only little once and I feel blessed to share every single day with him.
The next time someone says a SAHM doesn’t do much, please direct them to this blog!
If paid, the typical Stay-at-Home Mom in Hicksville, NY would earn the pay shown below for her work as a mother.
|For the year ending: May 2010|
|Job title||Hourly Rate||Hours worked|
WHAT I OWE MY MOTHER
My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE. “If you’re going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning.”
My mother taught me RELIGION.
“You better pray that will come out of the carpet.”
My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL. “If you don’t straighten up, I’m going to knock you into the middle of next week!”
My mother taught me LOGIC.
“Because I said so, that’s why.”
My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
“If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you’re not going to the store with me.”
My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
“Make sure you wear clean underwear in case you’re in an accident.”
My mother taught me IRONY.
“Keep crying, and I’ll give you something to cry about.”
My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
“Shut your mouth and eat your supper.”
My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
“Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!”
My mother taught me about STAMINA.
“You’ll sit there until all that spinach is gone.”
My mother taught me about WEATHER.
“This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it.”
My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
“If I told you once, I’ve told you a million times. Don’t exaggerate!”
My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
“I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”
My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
“Just wait until we get home.”
My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
“If you don’t stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way.”
My mother taught me HUMOR.
“When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don’t come running to me.”
My mother taught me GENETICS.
“You’re just like your father.”
My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
“Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?”
My mother taught me WISDOM.
“When you get to be my age, you’ll understand.”
My Mother taught me ESP.
“Put your sweater on; don’t you think that I know when you’re cold?”
My Mother taught me TO MEET A CHALLENGE.
“What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you… Don’t talk back to me!”
MY Mother taught me PATIENCE.
“Sure, you can do that. As soon as you’re 21 and leave the house!”
My Mother taught me DIPLOMACY.
“I don’t want to hear who started it, It takes two to fight.”
My Mother taught me SHARING.
“Play nicely with that or I’ll just take it away from both of you.”
My Mother taught me ETIQUETTE.
“Use your fork! If I see that hand on the table again, I’ll slap it!”
My mother taught me about ENVY.
“There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don’t have wonderful parents like you do.”
My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
“You are going to get it when you get home!”
My mother taught me TO THINK AHEAD.
“If you don’t pass your spelling test, you’ll never get a good job!”
My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
“If you don’t eat your vegetables, you’ll never grow up.”
My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
“One day you’ll have kids and I hope they turn out just like you!”
But most of all, my mother taught me LOVE.
“You know that whatever you do or whatever happens, I’ll always stand behind you, no matter what; because I love you.”
Dedicated to; Erika Fitzgerald, Jeanette Fitzgerald, Kathi Buss, Celia Vera, Jennifer Fitzgerald, Sheila Streng, Anne Oldfield, Heather Hodkinson, Ana Thompson, Donna Ganiaris, Gerri Lima, Allison Schaefer, Kim Baitz, Angela Kobetitsch, Lynne Wiltse, Penny Williams, and so many other moms who have touched my life in one way or another.
I really enjoyed our church service this past Palm Sunday. In fact I was moved to tears.
Which isn’t completely unusual for me. I have gotten misty eyed before, quite often it’s the music that really envelopes me and touches me.
Music has always moved me, both figuratively and literally. I always feel better and more energized when I am surrounded by good music. I often use music as a tool to get myself motivated. I love to sing along (when no one is around) and dance like a fool to it. You can bet if there is something I have to get done around the house and I am really serious about it, there will be music filling every room.
It’s no different at church, …well okay a little different. I don’t do the whole dancin like a fool part of it, but I do sing along. And I am no singer, not by a long shot, so I do tend to hold back a bit for the sake of others around me.
The music reaches into my heart and the lyrics I sing along with the rest of the church is like a prayer being sung out to the Lord. Many times the message in the lyrics I see projected onto the overhead screens touch me so much that a tear may threaten to fall. And I always enjoy how it sets the tone for Pastor Steve’s sermon.
This past Sunday, however it was so much more than that….
We arrived late, which is better than not arriving at all, as was the case for the previous 3 weeks (we were away for one of the Sundays, and sick for the other two). After not going for 3 weeks in a row, it was a struggle to get Leon to co-operate on a Sunday morning and get out the door. But I was determined to go! I felt the NEED to go. I even gave in and let Leon go in his ratty sweatpants.
We dropped Leon off in the children’s group, and then walked into services just in time to sing along to a great song, “The Saving One” by Starfield. A few minutes into the song I realized that I wasn’t just singing along, I was singing out. It felt good right.
After a couple more songs the band cleared the stage, dancers in flowey, purple & white costumes took the stage. It was quite beautiful to watch.
Pastor Steve definitely has a way of making a story even more poignant.
As I was listening to his sermon. I noticed that every once in a while I would take the collar of my shirt to my nose to sniff it. I kept thinking that really pleasant smell I was smelling must be the new dryer sheets we were using. Every once in a while I would get a whiff again, Mmm what a really great smell! It wasn’t too long that I realized it wasn’t me.
Was someone near me putting hand cream on or something? Then it dawned on me it was all around me. Was it the church? Was it being piped in through the vents? I couldn’t ask Ron, he no longer has a sence of smell. He lost it when he fractured his skull 10 years ago.
I decided, whatever it was, it was perfect. It fit so naturally into the sermon.
“Six days before the Passover, Jesus arrived at Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazerus was among those reclining at the table with him. Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of perfume.” John 12:1-3
(Pastor Steve later gave it away, by letting us all know that, what we were smelling was several Glade Plug-ins purchased at BJ’s ) 😛
He discussed, True Worship.
And through out the sermon I felt a strong need to share this with a friend (one in particular).
“But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him” 2 Cor.2:14
Pastor Steve often says you are here for a reason, and on this day, I really felt it. When in prayer he called anyone who wished to have a personal relationship with Jesus’ to raise their hand, mine went up, and tears came down.
I accepted Jesus into my heart long ago, but today I felt the need to re-establish that.
Most of you who know me well, know that this isn’t necessarily like me. To quote the Bible (after all I really do not know it well enough) or to publicly declare my beliefs; or more specifically open them up for discussion. I have always held that my relationship with my personal Savior is between me and Him.
In general I do not like to openly discuss religion or politics, it gets messy, and I am still just trying to find my own way. That’s just me.
But on Sunday, throughout the sermon, I just felt so strongly about it and so moved by the whole experience: the music, the dancing, the fragrance, and the message itself, (I even took notes knowing I wanted to blog about it later), I knew that I wanted to share this with everyone.
So here it is!