Dear More,

I enjoy your magazine so much that sometimes I daydream about writing a regular column for you.  Something witty and smart that women will look forward to reading each month.  I imagine myself being for you, what Joel Stein is for Time.  My thoughts are full of what my page layout would look like, how my photo would be placed and what my catchy feature title would be.   Flipping through your December issue today, I realized that my 50 year old face might be at risk of a facelift from your art department.  I’m just putting it out there, that if my Christmas wish of writing for you comes true,  I do not want to look like Demi Moore in the Ann Taylor ads.  I want to be relatable… I want to look my age.

My facial resume includes, but is not limited to…..

Crows feet were earned from endless laughing fits over the last 5 decades, especially in the 1980′s.

That forehead line came from worry while waiting to adopt my first son.

The furrowed brow marks probably came from years of being a horrible math student.

Certain wrinkles were formed from squinting while painting, making sure colors were just right.

The bottom line of crows feet came from smiling at my children.

Those serious lines around my mouth are from pursing my lips together while not smiling at my boys.

Squint lines and age spots can be attributed to lining a double record album with shiny aluminum foil, slathering baby oil all over my face and sitting in the 1970′s noon day sun with my homemade reflector.

If this no retouching request is going to be a deal breaker for you, I give you permission to remove one deep line across the bridge of my nose, the three largest age spots and one deep wrinkle under each eye.  Since the lines on my neck just showed up one day and are not related to any experience, good or bad….go ahead and airbrush them away!  No more than that.   Just so we are clear, here is an example of what I do Acayucan not want to look like.

My sense of humor, stories and wrinkles all come from years of experiences, the majority of which I wouldn’t trade for the world.   If by chance you decide to give me a column and I see my caricature instead of my photo at the top of the page, I’ll know that you probably thought I had a little too much experience.

Happy Holiday!

Dipping my toe into crisp yellow ochre

After 50 circuses

50 halos

Each holding the other’s tightly

Protecting

Hiding

Justifying

Smiling

Singing stories, swelling 50 wide

Learning lessons from fickle’s folly

Shaping blindness to a gossamer view

Shift the threshold with a pause from wisdom’s smile

Aware, that steady spell’s favor is now

Start

Recently I had an anxiety episode late at night where I was certain I was having a heart attack.  Dwelling on the fact that my children could possibly find me unconscious on the floor didn’t make me feel any better.  Like many people with anxiety, we are our own worst enemies.  One of my greatest fears as a single mom, is that something will happen to me and my children will be put in the position of needing to decide what to do in an emergency.

The next day I woke up alive, exhausted and determined to get a grip on things.  I decided that while I cannot control my once a month anxiety/heart attack sessions, I can control some of the worries associated with them.  I decided to put together a kit for my children to help them get through an emergency.  I purchased a plastic zippered pouch and filled it with the following items.

• House keys
• Money
• Emergency instructions
• Medical insurance card

I sat down with my boys and went over the contents, instructions and as a family, we decided where we would keep the pouch.  While they weren’t exactly thrilled thinking that mom could have an accident or fall ill, I think they were relieved that they had a plan to follow.   For me, it was very important to walk through the steps of what may happen.  We worked with a scenario that mom fell down the stairs and was knocked unconscious.  They knew the first step was to call 911 and get the kit.  My children were completely unaware that they would not be able to ride along in the ambulance to the hospital, so I explained that they needed to go down the list of emergency numbers until they found someone to come and help.  Discussing some of the possibilities seemed to make them feel more confident that they knew what to do.  I had originally intended to write this post as a single parent emergency plan but realized that it would be just as beneficial to 2 parent households.

Below are the things that I felt were important for our instruction/information sheet.  Please feel free to use it and add things that could be beneficial to your family.  Obviously, this list will not be appropriate in households where the children are young and cannot read yet, but it would certainly help a friend or neighbor make sure the correct information is given out.

http://toastmeetsjam.com/bios/hilary-sloan/ Family “in case of emergency” information

Important phone #:

• 911
• Father –
• Mother -
• Grandparents –
• Neighbors –

Other phone #:

• Doctor –
• Children’s Doctor –
• Homeowners Insurance –
• Veterinarian –
• School –

Medical Information:

• Medical Insurance company ID# and Group#
• Allergies:
• Current medications:
• Current Illness:

Misc. Information:

• Car make, model and color
• License plate #
• House Alarm code –
• Phone message retrieval code -
• Computer log in code –

Yesterday, I shopped real and virtually.  My kids, after raking in a ton of cash from their birthdays saving for months and months, finally had the money to shell out for an ipod touch (each).  Upon leaving Best Buy with my credit card still smoking ipods, cases and screen protectors,  my boys were onto their next plan.  Convincing me that we needed to go out to dinner to celebrate the new ipods and they knew just the place.   They named Panera, a place that they knew offers free wifi.  They cleverly sold it to me as the place where I can get that broccoli cheddar soup that I love so much.  Okay I’m in.

I had the first dinner in a very long time where there was no fighting and it was quite glorious.   Yes, our table was glowing from all the apps that were being downloaded and the boys looked like zombies staring into their palms, but I was the Queen eating my bowl of soup in peace.  That is, until one of my boys shouted out…

“Hey, where’s my Fart App!?!”

Fabulous, I thought, looking around the restaurant hoping nobody heard.  The Queen is dead and good old mommy is back asking each boy to surrender their ipod for my inspection.  Apparently, while I was enjoying my soup, they had gone shopping for apps from the CrApp Store right on their ipods.

Of all the useful  Apps one can get for their device, here are 3 that I found on their ipods that seem particularly helpful to 10 year old boys.

Fart For Free – a myriad of fart sounds ranging from dry to wet.

Bald Booth – take your photo and make yourself look bald.

Gun App – choose from 50 guns ranging from AK-47 to water pistols.  Tap the screen and you get the sound of the gun.

While I am far from 10, I chose this as an opportunity to bond with my boys.  So I allowed my self to enter the bald booth, selected a .357 Magnum as my weapon of choice and endured listening to 16 different versions of the beloved fart during the car ride home.

Having now lived with the ipod touch for 24 hours, here’s an app that I would love to see.

The Yes Mom app.

Here is how it would work.  While your child stares into the ipod, hypnotized, the Yes Mom app whispers to your child the following sentence over and over.

Yes mom, I would be happy to clean my room

Then a timer within the ipod begins to count down and at the end of 5 minutes, the ipod shuts off saying the battery needs recharging.  This is your cue to go and plug in the ipod to charge and add, “Oh by the way, can you run up and clean your room?”

Yes mom, I would be happy to clean my room.

Hmm, I wonder is I could get this to work on ex husbands too.

With regal petals to prove its faithfulness

Violet grants a light scent so one can taste its sweetness

The virtue of the violet can be matched by your own

You greet me on your doorstep and perceive me reappearing

You close the door but I never step away

I am waiting amongst the violets

Remaining ’til you open again to offer me your mute support, which is your virtue’s duty

Fold it up, tuck it away, close your door

I will wait, poised among the violets

Suffering what cannot be

Realizing virtue has forsaken me because there is no other path

I breathe in the sweetness with purpose to suppress my bitter breath

For next time may be new

As I wait amidst the violets

.

.

This was Magpie 57, a writers prompt provided by Tess.  Stop over at Magpie Tales to see what others have written about violets.