How to woo the ladies

I want to tell you about a conversation I had with my eight year old boy when we were away on holiday recently.

I need to ask if I’ve potentially ruined the poor kid’s chances of happiness or if he should be okay?

Daniel, looking up from his Harry Hill book of jokes:

“Dad I have a joke for you, what did the owl say when he couldn’t go on a date with his girlfriend because of the rain?”

“I don’t know”

“It’s too wet to woo”

“Haha”

“I don’t get it”

“What?”

“What does it mean? What is ‘woo’?”

“Ah well, that’s what you do to try and impress a girlfriend so she will marry you, when you take her out on dates and things you are wooing her, trying to impress her.”

“Oh right – funny, so it’s too wet to woo, I get it”

“haha”

“So how did you woo Mum?”

“What?”

“How did you woo Mum?”

I had to think fast – I’m not sure I can remember ever doing any wooing – I could hardly say two bottles of Lambrusco Bianco, a curry and the ability to breathe through my ears now could I?

“The Robot, Son”

“What Dad?”

“The Robot dance, I wooed her with my Robot dancing, she loves that dance”

“Really, did you?”

“Yep, we went dancing and I wooed her with my Robot”

At this point my wife came out of the bathroom having heard none of this conversation.

“Mum, is this true that dad wooed you with his Robot dancing?”

“Pardon?”

“Did you marry Dad because of how good he was at the Robot dance?”

Quick as a flash and totally dead pan, Jo replied.

“Oh yes, absolutely, works every time.”

At this point Daniel whooped, jumped up and started Robot dancing his way round the room saying that he had better start practicing then.

I have created something that looks, talks, and now woos just like me, I’m so sorry ladies of the future.


Also at Glenslife.com

An Open Letter to Little People (Mine Specifically)

by Kristin Brumm (kbxmas)

I was reading one of those stories in the news the other day that I would have glossed over in the past but now that I'm a parent take on a whole new meaning. You know the ones I'm talking about. A man or woman is killed in some freak accident and as you skim the story you find out he/she had young children at home. Shudder the thought.

It got me to think what would happen if I were to meet with unfortunate design and merge with eternity while my kids were still at a tender age. If one were to ask them years down the road what wisdom they had learned at my knee that helped shepherd them into adulthood, they probably would have to give it a hard think and then come up with such as this: “clean your nails, good god”, “lean over your plate so you don't get crumbs in your lap” and “brush now or else.”

It occurred to me that I almost never tell them anything of consequence. Not that kids learn by being told, of course. But in case they ever learn by reading, I thought I'd collect my collective wisdom and put it in once place so that I would have it all ready in the event of my untimely demise or (more likely) untimely institutionalization or (most likely) our children's ability to swiftly disable the parental controls on the computer and discover my blog. Ergo,

An Open Letter to Little People (mine, specifically)

From where you sit now life may seem fairly simple and straightforward and in many respects it is. But as you lean towards adulthood you'll no doubt try to complicate it, because that's what we all do.

For instance, as you grow up you will have many friends who will all have different ideas of what is required to be adored by others. Because you are human, you will for a time play the game of trying to morph yourself into these different ideals. It is my hope that sooner, rather than later, you will learn that the quality which others most respect and find attractive is authenticity, the irony being that once you discover this you will no longer care much what others think.

Many things will seem wildly important to you at different times in your life. But here's something that really is. Find the one thing in life that makes your heart sing and do it and never stop doing it, even if it makes your father and me weep into our pillows at night. We'll get over it.

A well-paying job is lovely. A home is lovely. But before you chase that kind of stability, get out and see the world. One cannot purchase the perspective of life as viewed from beneath a worn rucksack on a lost bit of track somewhere in the Peruvian Andes.

If you're unsure whether or not you should say it, and...

• you're really angry
• in a business meeting
• have had a few too many
• are talking to an attractive man/woman who's not your significant other
• are in a chat room
• are being evaluated for a raise
• are about to hit reply to all

you probably shouldn't.

  

If you're unsure whether or not you should say it, and...

• you're feeling hurt
• are feeling centered
• are in therapy
• are talking to your parents
• are hooked up to a lie detector test
• the man/woman of your dreams is about to walk out the door

you probably should.

Things that are a bad idea:

•  Credit cards for college students
•  Credit cards in general (unless you pay them off every month)
•  Thinking, eh, you're okay to drive
•  Unprotected sex with your boyfriend/girlfriend because my god you love him/her so much and besides, you know it's a safe time of the month
•  Unprotected sex in general
•  Drugs, legal or otherwise, prescription or street, your parents' or yours or anyone else's
•  Owning a firearm (unless you live in the Yukon and need to take down a caribou for your dinner, what the hell are you thinking?)
•  Tattoos that spell things out
•  Martyrdom
•  Whining
•  Playing the victim
•  You get the picture

 Things that are a good idea:

• A degree in the liberal arts (if you really want to go into business get an MBA, but for undergrad go liberal arts; you'll be a better person for it and you will absolutely get a job)
• Condoms (yes, harp harp)
• Being the first to apologize -- contrary to popular belief, it takes a bigger person
• Laughing at yourself
• Turning off the TV and reading. Lots.
• Speaking your truth
• Over and over and over, even when it hurts
• Accountability
• Integrity
• Love over gold
• Anna, take your calcium

And always, always, you are loved.

That should do for now.


Kristin Brumm writes at Wanderlust

He says, she says

By kbxmas

When my son was a toddler he rarely talked. For about six months a speech therapist came to our house once a week and tried to draw out his words. Eventually he started to speak but still, he remained a boy of action and few words. Until this past year, that is. It's as if he discovered the joy of articulation overnight and now assaults us with non-stop verbal artillery. Take this salvo, thrown at me as I was pulling into the Target parking lot the other day:

“I just burped without making a sound. I wish my bones were superglued together. Mommy, when I opened my juice it 'sploded. In you van. Are you mad? I smell french fries.”

His words are like buckshot, tiny pellets of minutiae scattered to the wind. He'll throw a hundred words at me and maybe six or eight will stick.
My 7-year-old daughter on the other hand, chooses her words thoughtfully. Hers is the silver bullet tucked with care in her pocket, withheld until absolutely necessary, never wasted. They have the power to melt hearts and wound them.

Tonight she was harping on about something that was unfair so I sent her upstairs for a cooling off period, which only served to further stir her ire and as she made her way down the hall to her room she yelled the following at me: “I hate you and I will never apologize! And if I do apologize I won't mean it!”

While I should have been wounded by this, I've been hated by her enough times to know that it only lasts the duration of her time out and besides, I was too tickled by her addendum to be hurt. As predicted, once she was allowed back downstairs we made fast with a hug and a game of trash, in which she beat me soundly. Fortunately, both my children are fluent in the language of forgivemess, as are all children, in their wisdom.

I'm a bit apprehensive, however, for her teenage years, when her tongue may grow sharper and her cooling off period longer. At least I'll have my son to talk at me while I'm waiting her out. Unless, of course, they go changing on my again, as kids are wont to do.

Also posted on Wanderlust

My Zoey Homesick Heart

Dust bunny snow is falling outside. Large flakes gently floating in the air like dust bunnies when you sweep. I stare at the computer screen watching nature’s own YouTube reflect on the computer screen. What hand has reached into the pool and stirred such homesickness within my heart. I will confess that this writing is unabashedly selfish. I am homesick for what something, someone I met for only an hour or so. She has been my internet photo. Her name is Zoey and she is my great niece. After we met for the first and last time, I wrote this letter to Zoey. This morning I plundered through my journal and found the writing. Today I am sending her letter into cyber space where there is no time, everything is now. It will be safe there, free from the untimely demise of hard drives and unintended deleted files. The letter, her memory and my heart can dance in the timelessness of space forever. And who knows, perhaps sooner rather than later, I will have the chance to read the letter to her myself, with my own voice. May dust bunny snow fall upon you today and remind you to look around and hug those close and far away. Consider yourself so hugged.
      Somewhere on Interstate 40 in northwest Arkansas I left my heart. Only seven days had passed and I still find myself musing about the night we met. Did you know I wore that same T-shirt to bed that night, complete with your drool and unwanted milk you gifted me. Somewhere on Interstate 40 in northwest Arkansas I felt the kick in my heart when I realized I would never get to hold you like that again. Your tiny body, squishy and soft like a plush toy, recognizing a stranger's hands, touch and smell became rigid.

      What do your eyes see little Zoey? Am I just an unfamiliar shape or can you distinguish faces and mine was not one you knew? Did you know that I had never held a baby before? I know how to hold puppies and kittens and at night I am a pillow for a very timid cat. My fingers can fly on a computer key board, they even played the piano, and my handshake has made more than one man wince. But I do not know how to hold you Zoey. I know puppies like a clock on their first night from their mama, it reminds them of her heart beat. I will place your heart against mine and introduce myself. Hello Zoey, I am your great aunt, Beth. Namaste Zoey. I bow to you. My spirit, my heart honors you.
      What wonders await you Zoey. There are so many textures, colors, sounds and smells, find your favorite and bask in it but do not exclude the others. Know the horizon is your playpen, the breath of God makes the wheat fields dance and the birds await to accompany your songs. Know the clouds are your personal Etch-A-Sketch and the rain is an outdoor shower and pool so find the mud and be cleansed. The grass will be your carpet to feed your play animals and scratch your back, so be sure to roll and wiggle.
      The sun will be your angel by day so fear not your shadow. The moon will give rest to the sun, and watch you by night even when it is but a sliver. The moon and sun dance Zoey – take your cue from them. You cannot see the sun or light in the night Zoey but remember the dance. Good dance partners merge as one and you cannot tell them apart. That's how the sun and moon dance so fear not the floor beneath your bed, the dance will turn the sun quickly to shine upon you once again. Practice your numbers counting the stars in the sky and shells on the beach. Learn your colors from the flowers, sunsets and sunrises and the hues of a stormy cloud. Do not fear the thunder, it is but me clapping my hands in joy, telling you I'm over here if you want to sit in my lap or lay beside me for a while.
      People will marvel at your talents Zoey and tell you how good you are at this or that. And you will be - but the choice is yours. Learn to hear your heart, the one that is beating next to mine and mine next to yours. Learn your rhythm from that beat. Find what makes you laugh and do that as often as you can. Stay close to what makes you feel butterflies in your stomach but know the joy of just being, needing not the highs and fearing not the lows. Learn to hike the hills and forest trails so you are comfortable when your path is steep and uncertain. Trust your footing and your balance even when walking on asphalt or traveling a different path. Learn to pause and listen. Learn to hear your thoughts. Learn the beauty and power of words and feel the scrich of the pen moving on paper as you write your dreams. Finally, my little squishy great niece, a person, a gift, my prayer is that one day this letter, this memory may be a bookmark in your favorite book. Hello Zoey, hello to all you will be.

(also posted on my blog)