Eye Level

by Amy Platon

My anniversary and New Years come hand in hand, like a gay couple gallivanting through a poppy field. They skip past me down the yellow brick road. I usually shout something like, “Hey, what are you, running in circles? I saw you two last year, and what are you always so happy about anyway?”

There are a few things I know for sure. Like, the best thing about being married is that I have someone else to bounce ideas off of. Someone credible that when he says, “go for it,” I know he means it, having all the same things at stake. Ahh, that rocks!

I’m so proud of my relationship because hubby and I are at such a beautiful and delicate place - that eight-year mark. Where I have seen in other relationships, the end or a departure of sorts. And although I would never be so naive to say that won’t happen to us, I can say with some confidence that it won't happen to us today.

And I remember the moment that it all started for us. Again, I mean. And I’m amazed at how simple an accomplishment it was.

We were often wrapped up in our routine, like workers in a factory, watching the clock, getting the work done - all of it serious business.

Until it occurred to me that the boy in the 'work station' next to mine, was my husband. When his eyes wandered up and connected with mine, unexpected to him. I smiled. Not just at the thought of him, but because in that moment I saw him. Until then I realized that I had been looking at him all these years. My smile, so genuine I guess, he couldn’t help but smile back.

I tried again in the mirror that day. It took a few tries, because the first couple of smiles looked painfully like a school yearbook photo. But when I got it, I saw that I looked prettier that way.

It’s something about the meaningfulness in the lines around my mouth and the ones that shoot out from my eyes. So now I smile when I see my husband, not just for my marriage, but so that he can see the person I want him to see. The one, that is in love with him - for all he does for us, and for what he does to me.

And those two (New Years & Anniversary), they can run right past me. Prancing in their popularity. But for me, there will be no running. I would just like to sit here and enjoy what I have right now, today. I’ll take it all in and let it resonate. I will live my life at eye level. That is my anniversary gift. That is my new year’s resolution.

Want More?
Another 'Smile' Story by me :)
Another one I know you'll like
Also intrinsic about me and hubby
This one too!

Read more at the lovely Diaper Diaries Blog

Passion vs. Talent

by Amy Platon

Imagine if your passion is ice fishing, but you are born in Hawaii. How would you get from here to there? How would you know if your child has discovered his passion? How would you know the difference between passion and talent?

Stephen King wrote in his book On Writing that his son was taking music lessons for an instrument that he asked to play (can't remember which one). So, Stephen and his wife put their boy in private lessons for two years. Their boy was doing well, he was practicing like his instructor was asking. He was learning all the notes. He was willing to go to all the lessons without a fight. But then after two years Stephen told his wife, "We should take him out of those lessons."

“Why?” she asked. The answer was, because his son was not blowing up at it. He went to all the lessons, he did all the work, he was advancing at it, but wasn't tricking himself out on it. When the lesson was done, when practice was over, the instrument went back in the case.

Because Stephen knows that when you are tapping into your true passion, hours feel like minutes. You can’t get enough of that thing - You can’t not do it. You fill every minute of every day with it, or the thought of it. That’s when you know you’ve hit it.

I love that glimpse in time and matter that SK writes in his book. It was a huge parenting lesson in the last place I expected to receive one. I already knew as a writer that place he was talking about. And I feel lucky to have stumbled on it, or fortunate that my passion was at least an obvious one.

He revealed for me what I already knew as a writer but what I had forgotten as a parent.

Now, all I can hope is that my child’s passion isn’t ice fishing, cause we live in Florida and it might take us a while to figure that one out. Thanks Steve!

A Beautiful Gift

by Amy Platon

Well it was a great weekend, yay for Mother’s Day. I used to think it was a Hallmark Holiday, but I have a new appreciation for it. My son came home with a beautiful handmade card from school. It had a poem and his hand prints. The best part of the card was how he answered the questions about me. Apparently I have “bage” hair, I’m about 40 years old and I weigh 90 lbs, and my favorite activity is ice skating. Hmm, I’m a native Floridian, and we still live here. We did do some ice skating over Christmas, but “favorite” activity? And for the record, I’m nowhere near 40. At least I think. I’d have to do the math for that one and it’s too early in the morning for all that. I am, however, 90 lbs. (Man, I can’t even say that with a straight face.)

Anyhoo, all this had me thinking, why are all those mistakes so darn cute? And ladies of the mommy sisterhood, I think I’ve got it. And let me start by first saying, I hate the pressure of the idea that requires me to “mold” my child, because that is so inaccurate. Guide, yes. But mold? The truth is that our children have as much right to walk on this earth as the rest of us do. And not necessarily in my footsteps. It is not their responsibility, or ours as parents, to force them to “fit” in with us. Their life is their adventure, and at the most we are observers. (Lucky us!)

So, what about sex, drugs and smoking, right? Well, I lead by example. So when my kids point out that someone is smoking, I say, “Yes, she is smoking. Does mommy smoke?” No. “Do you smoke?” No. “So that person is smoking, but we don’t smoke. Is that right?” Right. And because we have relatives that smoke, I usually remind my children at that time that smoking is addictive just like drugs are very addictive and once someone starts it’s very hard to quit. It’s easier to never start drugs or smoking for that reason. The lesson is that some people do things that we don’t.

So when my daughter came in from playing with her friend who is a boy, to tell me that they were pretending to have boyfriends, I said “Oh, ok.” She turned to me to say, “He’s going to have a boyfriend too. That’s weird right?” I said, “Well, no. Sometimes it happens.” The message isn’t for her to go out and have a same sex relationship, but that she knows:
1. I’m an accepting person.
And
2. What one person does is not what all people do.

The big lesson is that she doesn’t have to fear differences. So when we see other same sex couples out in public, she isn't going to feel confused, scared, or sick over it. It's like sweeping the path.

At the end of the day, the only thing we mothers are responsible for in the growth of our children is to help them find who they really are. To let them grow from the inside out, not the outside in. You know, keep the road clean.

And so, about the card, while being a 90 lb ice skater with beige hair is gift enough, the real gift is why those little mistakes are so beautiful. It's because they are a glimpse of the person my child really is. A glimpse of him just being him and not trying to be the person he is expected to be. Humm, what a beautiful day.

I've listed the lovely blog carnivals I'm participating in at the top right of my scroll bar. Do take a look for more stories from other bloggers there.

More Stories Like This One:
Tales from the Sidelines
Finding My Stride
Swimming In Circles
Still Learning

Old Is Cute

by Amy Platon

We just had a lovely week. My kids’ Auntie stayed with us for 7 days, which meant some much needed fun and relaxation. It’s the only thing I would change if I could do it all again, I’d live closer to family.

It’s funny what memory does. It’s like it holds out. My memory of Auntie had her pretty much stuck at oh, 45. So every time we get together, I’m surprised at how much older she has gotten.

The things I’ve noticed has me on the look out in my own life. For instance, you know you’re old when you use the window in your wallet (the one that’s meant for your driver’s license) for your insurance card. You also know you’re getting older when you spill your coffee on the floor as you walk, but you have no idea until twenty minutes later when you’re wondering who spilled coffee all over the floor. (And some of you know, I don’t drink coffee.) You also know you’re old when you say stuff like “What is a blog honey?”

I say all of this in love, and because old is cute-when it’s on someone else.

So while Auntie was here, husband and I took off for one night to relive our youth downtown. Oh don’t laugh like you haven’t done that.

Again, my memory left off when I was in my 20’s. But oddly, I didn’t feel old when we were out. We had some drinks and watched a cover band play songs older than us, and we had fun. Then we started saying to one another, "Hey, remember Barbarellas? Wonder if they are still playing the Smiths."

So we payed our tab and marched down to what has now been renamed Independence Bar. And they are still playing the Smiths! We got carded at the door (how cute) and our adrenaline was on the rise as we realized the place hadn’t really changed that much. We grabbed a beer at the front bar and made our way to the back of the club where all the dancing takes place.

We arrived to an entire club (I mean entire club) of people rocking out to Sister’s of Mercy - we were loving it. Although, as our eyes adjusted to the smoke and strobes, we began to sense something was not quite right. (No it hasn’t become a gay club – not that there’s anything wrong with that, I have friends who are gay.) But it turned out that everyone dancing was in their late 30’s early 40’s. And it was like the exact same crowd we remembered when we used to go there, only fifteen years older, fatter, and poorly dressed. Oh my god! Husband and I looked at each other and our mouths dropped. “It’s us!”














We drank our beer and he grabbed my hand - not a moment too soon. We hit the dance floor and danced like two birds splashing in the fountain of youth. We blended right in and had the best time we’ve had in forever!

Cheers - Here's to gettin' old! And having A Beautiful Life, hope I'm cute!

Throw it to Me!

by Amy Platon

Have you made a perfect stranger smile lately? Well I have to say, since it’s my night job, I’ve not really felt compelled to try doing it on my days off. So, I guess I was in an especially smiley mood when I did what I did.

As usual, this story takes place in my local grocery store. *Imagine if I really had a life? Oh the stories I could tell.* I was planning to use a competitor coupon that gives me BOGO on fish fillets. To do that, I had to have the fish guy wrap up my three fillets separately. And he did, cause that’s his job.

And, I’m not really sure what came over me, but when he finished wrapping my first fillet in paper, I clapped my hands and held up my palms. He peered over his glasses at me. As if it wasn’t obvious, I shout, “Throw it to me!”

He looked to his left (over his glasses) then launched it right at my chest. I caught it and threw it into my buggy.

My smile was so big that infectious would be an understatement. He had made my day. “I’ve always wanted to do this!” I shouted. PS: Don’t ask me why I was yelling at him.

He laughed (out loud) and tossed me the second fillet. “This is just like the fish market!” I shout. In hindsight it really wasn’t. I'm in Orlando Florida after all, not the Seattle fish market, but I was totally in the moment.


He threw me the third fillet and smiled his own really-big-infectious-smile and told me to have a good day. “Thanks!” I said and really meant it. “You’re the best!”

And he was the best. Because he played! Like kids, we played. Perfect strangers and complete adults - we played.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a little crazy - right out in public and all. But this was the best time I’ve had in a while. And even if it’s not your style to do something so bold, I say try it! Just once, try it! (Sorry, I'm yelling again.) It’s super-fun.

I told you mine, now you tell me yours! Post your comments (here) and share what you’ve done to make a perfect stranger smile!