Shades of KristinLynn

Noah's Paradigm

2008-08-03T22:46:00.001-04:00

During the house boat trip of 2008 Noah pleaded for me to take him out on the jet-ski. I fastened my life jacket and hopped behind Noah. At first he gunned the gas until he heard a sharp word from me. We made an agreement that I would let him have control of the gas and steering as long as he allowed my hands up for guides and obeyed me without question. Together we went flying through Flat Hollow. I taught him how to read the waves and look for the currents hidden just beneath the surface. He soon slowed instinctively at the breaks we raced toward. He scanned his horizon looking for other vehicles and glanced over his shoulder before he turned. It was a bonding hour long ride. I had to trust him with the speed and direction; he had to trust that I would only intervene when absolutely necessary. That was better than any couch therapy we paid for in the last three years.

A couple of days ago Noah came in from playing with cold hard cash in his hand. Suspecting he sold something of someone’s I went on the rampage to uncover the origins of his new booty. He stopped me in the doorframe begging me not to go outside and ask the kids. This spurred me on with a maternal determination to uncover whatever shannigans my son was up to now. One step out the door the confession came tumbling out. ”Ok, Ok Mom I gave Kalin some lego figures to play with.”
“Noah, those aren’t yours to sell!”
“I’m not selling them Mom, I’m renting them!”
“Renting them? For how long?”
“He’ll bring them back tomorrow!”
“Is that right Kalin? You’ll bring them back tomorrow?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ok, that’s good because if you don’t his big brother will get real mad because those are his and Noah didn’t ask first.”
Once we were back inside our conversation continued:
“Noah how much money have you made?”
“Oh, this dollar Calin gave me makes $14.”
“Really? All from renting toys?”
“No. sometimes I rent out video games.”
“And everyone returns the things you rent.”
“Yep.”
“Well, Noah that’s very interesting. You know you should use me or your big brother as a witness to your rental agreements so no one can say you actually sold it instead of renting. Does that make sense?”
Oh yeah, that’s a good idea!”

What eight year old thinks of these kind of money making schemes? What’s with these kids that pay to rent his stuff? Will he be the kid in Middle School that has a jacket lined with snacks and electronics for sale during breaks?

Yesterday Noah was speaking to his Dad about making money.
“If I was a lawyer would I make lots of money?”
“Well, it depends. But Noah, if you want to make lots of money you should know that it’s the people who own a business that make the money.”
“So if I want to make lots of money I should own the lawyers?”
“Well first you have to work with some lawyers to get the experience but your focus should be on owning the business if you want to make money.”
“Ok, so I’ll be a lawyer that owns a lawyer business.” Here he pauses for awhile looking out the window. “Hey Dad, what do you do?”
His father goes on to explain how “sales is great it’s just like owning your own business……the explanation is met with Noah’s silence.

Noah is possibly the brightest kid I’ve ever met.

Sundries from Shades of KristinLynn

2008-07-05T16:18:00.002-04:00

"Mountain Mama" still needs attention and the "Nate" essay has been put off until I see him again in a mere ten days! I'll be traveling soon and have extra eyes watching my kids so that means writing will get done!!!!! I will not be doing any new Twilight stuff as Stephanie Meyers would rather see potential writers working on their own stuff rather than riding her wave. Feel free to leave your opinions...

Giveaway

2008-07-05T16:15:00.001-04:00

Three years ago I met a woman in her late seventies named Tenny. She had just lost her husband of fifty-two years. Her left eye was going blind. She had nothing to eat. I carried clothes and food to her car. I listened to her story while I held her hand. I prayed for her. I believed what I prayed. The next year Tenny came back, her walk was more erect. She smiled. She remembered me and the prayer. She hugged me and held onto my hand. Her eye stayed the same and she could still see out of it. I loaded her car again and told her how happy I was to see her. She had a terrible time focusing. I thought she looked as if she were undecided on which realm to live in. Together we thanked God. I told her that she would stay in my thoughts, I parted with a hug and a kiss.

I saw Tenny at the giveaway last weekend. She was so thin. She recognized me right away. She grabbed me and searched my eyes. She kept saying "You, you, oh you!" She didn't say much this time but held on to my hand. She brought an elderly brother with her. He was very talkative. Tenny had lost some hearing over the last two years. They both looked so emaciated. Here's the thing I really loved about these two, they have needs but they do not horde. When you have a giveaway of course you attract those who suffer from materialism. My heart breaks when I load bags into a car full of junk. Tenny's brother's truck was bare. He thanked me in the parking lot and said he guessed he should be going to church. My heart started to rip. I found words to help express briefly that it's not about him showing up to church. That we of course would be happy to see them again. More importantly it's about getting to know God for yourself.

Six days later and her small blue eyes are still so vivid in my memory and I'm hoping that she has food for today and that her brother is listening. I hope to see them again.

Sardines

2008-06-23T15:42:00.002-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about Africa......I know a nurse in Mozambique who could use some help. Last time I felt this way I ended up in a country where I didn't speak the language well and discovered that my seven seat passenger van with a few modifications becomes public transportation and normally seats twenty-three people outside the U.S. - of course we were crammed tighter than sardines!

Bed of Nails

2008-06-14T12:20:00.004-04:00

Last night I took the kids to my work for a pool party. The Martial Arts group was putting on a pool-side demonstration for all of the patrons. My daughter was completely enthralled. She was so impressed by the breaking bricks, bats and boards. Her eyes went wide with the slicing of various fruits. I smiled softly, knowing she would love to see some of my secret weapons hidden in our house. She has seen me go all Xena with my Chinese Bo Staff. She loves watching me do my forms. None of my children have seen the pictures of a Chinese New Moon Festival demostration I did 18 years ago. Eighteen years? How is that possible?

I wore an open back bathing suit and laid on a bed of nail-tips. Four hundred hand pounded nails on a 18" by 2' board made my little bed. As I laid down, my Teacher placed a cinder block across my abdomen. He gave me a minute to breath and concentrate in front of a thousand people in the downtown area. Then I found my place of peace and purpose and let him swing a sludge hammer over his head and on top of my stomach as a couple of hundred screams were let loose. The brick broke and I was pulled up. One little nail slightly raised pierced my back and left a small trickle of blood running parallel to my spine, this made my mother cry out. I never felt it. It cleaned up and left a small scab. So many people came up to see my back that night and asked how I did it. There was no magic; just belief that I would be protected and sheer determination. Eighteen years I have carried that gift of faith, confidence and determination. I want to give it to my children, especially my daughter.

Fireflies and Camp Shade

2008-06-05T21:53:00.004-04:00

Who needs sleep when there are fireflys to catch? Such joy in summer days filled with games and imagination! The feet jumping across my threshold brings requests to come out and play, jump in the puddles, hide in a fort or just lay under the sun until your head pounds!

Twilight fanfic

2008-06-05T15:32:00.003-04:00

OK so I updated all the Twilight stuff. I love the embedded songs and hope the reader can enjoy them better now. It has been so long since I reveiwed them and once I did I realized that "Edward Grieves" needed an overhaul. Hope all the fans still enjoy it!

Torres vs. Maeta

2008-06-01T22:49:00.002-04:00

Mirrored toe holds! That was a great three rounds and Torres had to work for it. Maeta is one scary head trip. Torres had a hard time staying calm and who can blaim him with those jittery gloves and feigning that Maeta has mastered. Wouldn't want to be on either ones bad sides - ever!

Slice vs. Thompson

2008-06-01T22:34:00.003-04:00

So I kid you not, within twenty seconds of their fight I envisioned Thompson getting a cloned replica of his left ear attached. I asked my husband if he thought Thompson would ever consider that."Nah, are you kidding those guys could care less how they look."

Yeah, well I bet he might consider it now that it may have contributed to his technical knock-out. For the record I think Thompson should get the repairs he needs, train hard and re-match. I know he'll take Slice by submission and within two rounds at that!

Annapolis at the Sly Fox

2008-05-31T20:23:00.005-04:00

The following is a true story, well true from my perspective! The location is real but some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent and not so innocent! A high school friend of mine, James Orbach, once wrote in my year book: "Whenever you're around things seem to happen." Well James, I think things are always happening and this is an account of one night when I sat back a played spectator......

Nestled just off historic Church Circle on the corner of Franklin St where patterned brick is undertoe everywhere a small patio party of two hundred strangers gather for spirits and tunes. (M) is the gatekeeper or "bouncer" who can judge body language like a sea captain can read the waves. He stands in the way of couples heading down Franklin St as he smiles and says welcome with a hand gestering to the patio. This slight gesture makes potential patrons feel like (M) has been waiting all evening for them to show up to this exclusive event. Wonder how many people he has detoured from their ultimate destinations?

The atmosphere is like a siren tempting all to come in be young and carefree for just now. Under a Willow Oak cell phones softly light up like candles flickering on and off from the cast iron pub tables and chairs. There is a married pretty young blonde whose back side impressively jiggles under her halter white flowered sundress to her favored tunes performed by live musician Timmie Metz. The blonde is shadowed by a friend who watches everyone and moves with authority in her all to thin frame. Some may look at her and want to care for her, take her in but she looks like she's been alone for so long she wouldn't trust the hand feeding her.
Men everywhere are enjoying the sights and smells of skin that's been covered until this warm night. The Chespeake sends occasional breezes through the patio that makes the oak shimmer to the tunes pouring out from the corner where Timmie is playing an old beatle's tune. The men instinctively lean in to the freshly shampooed crowns to drown themselves in the seduction of scents.

A young (Sprite) girl all of 24 skips up to Timmie and makes a request dedicated to "(Susan's)beautiful daughter". As Timmy belts out the dedication she blushes, giggling and skipping to the back of the patio. Twenty seconds later she is back up front with ladies in tow all of them swaying and bouncing to Timmy's minstrels. Timmie's smiling, (M)'s arms that were crossed while monitoring from the street come undone as he nods approval then he eyes a group of men approaching from Church Circle and knows they will be easily led into a small area of bouncing beauties to enjoy a brew or two.

Over by the bar stands a fit petite brunette who clearly has eyes for one in her company. She glances quickly at others yet burns her long gaze into the face of one who is oblivious. She glances down, her lashes hiding what her frown reveals. She doesn't know that if she only smiled that she would illuminate herself like a lighthouse in a sea of darkness drawing near the one she desires.
Six feet away "Camera Cale" makes his rounds snapping candids of potential conquests. He is very good at flattering his prey and takes his time to inventory the crowd moving from grouping to grouping. He never stays in one place for more than seven minutes. How would he responds to being equally pursued?
Young sprite is sitting across from(Susan)in the back and she has a handsome young man whose sun kissed short brown hair frames his piercing green eyes. He fondly strokes the bare back of the sprite with his fingertips. She is leaning into him slightly laughing ducking her flirty short hair into his chest then throwing it back laughing exposing her smooth neck. He is savoring her sounds and movements. She keeps her left arm between them while she's facing(Susan). Her eyes are as pretty as any forest fawn. She is a living Maxfield Parrish muse. Her admirer squares his frame open to her. She laughs dipping her head to the music then into his chest he responds by leaning into her; his fingers exploring every inch of her back which her deep rose halter shirt dress leaves open.(Susan) jumps up in response to Timmie begining "Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5 and grabs the hands of her companions leading them up front. They dance in a circle, fairies on a mid-summer night without reservation.

The (Sprite) makes her way to my table and asks to sit for awhile. I lean in and say, "You're Susan's daughter!" She asks how I know her mom and I say I don't. She frowns and asks how I knew that she was Susan's daughter. I explain I just listen and watch and she gave herself away with her giggle at the dedication. She laughs and rolls her eyes. She explains her name is (Ness) and she adores her mom who at fifty is full of passion and joy. (Susan) has Asian characteristics and is a beautiful woman who is confident and regal, yet fun and reminds me so much of Tia Carrere from Wayne's World. She is truly blessed to have the admiration of her daughter (Ness). I tell (Ness) that her boyfriend seems really into her. She asks me to repeat what I said and I do adding that he seems to enjoy touching her back; she pulls back and searches my eyes. Her pretty mouth goes grim. She remains silent. She lowers her chin quietly confessing to me that he is not her boyfriend but her best friend's boyfriend. "Oh," I sip my Zinfadel before adding,"well, he would like to be. Trust me he can't keep his hands or eyes off of you." Just then my guy returns to the table completely blown away that the very subject which I was secretly observing was sitting with me. (Ness)tells me as she leaves that she hopes she will be half of what her mother is at fifty and have her own boyfriend by then.

With (Ness) returning to the back, my man asks how I got her to our little table and I smile saying I didn't. He's seen this before with me. He knows "as we seek so shall we find" so he just grins shaking his head at how wherever I am these things just happen. Timmie puts out a bone-chilling rendition of Cold Play's "Fix You" and wins applause. Ness is still chatting with her admirer but with more distance between them. They are lost to the rest of us. Timmie sings Stand By Me as his last call to a disappointed crowd. Of course as soon as the music stops the chatter rises.

We are treated with a new visitor to our table-Timmie! We learn he is a professional musician, husband to a beautiful and intelligent wife and father to an "adorable and demanding" seventeen month old daughter. He performs five nights a week and cares for his daughter while his wife teaches. As the two musicians at my table begin their "fret talk" I glance over to see (Ness) in a jacket laughing at something her best friend's boyfriend said. The crowd begins to slowly disperse into the warm breezy Annapolis air. (Ness) gets up and heads off to the side of the patio. (Susan) has a polite smile but is looking away from Ness's admirer. He speaks up and (Susan) turns toward him with inquizitive eyes and widens her smile as she leans in from across the table to listen. As she answers she looks off perhaps for (Ness)? I pray (Ness) can keep her head about her. I hope before she gets swept away she can decide what value she places on her girlfriend's friendship? Will she question whether her admirer could ever be better for her than he is to her friend? I hope she talks with (Susan) whose completed her study and wants to defend her thesis. Reluctantly, I turn from their story. (M) sees us off at the gate. He is almost bouncing. He nods once as if to say "Yeah, I'll see you back here real soon."

Twilightmoms MD,DC, PA and VA luncheon!

2008-05-31T20:02:00.003-04:00

Wow ladies, what a pleasure it was to meet each one of you. Can't wait to get together again. Rae you picked a great restaurant, the service and food were outstanding. We have to plan something around BD. What fun it was to read the first chapter in your presence and to have all of you drilling my reactions. Blessings to all of you!

Camps

2008-04-05T11:54:00.004-04:00

4-04-2008
Where does your heart dwell? Is it in compassion or contempt? I have been thinking about this for a long while now. I'd like to say that my heart resides only in the camp of compassion but that would be a lie. I try and try to remain in that camp until I see an alluring path or veer off out of lack of passion to where I don't want to be. Or at least I tell myself it's not where I want to be. Because few of us really get off on being so pissed at someone that we crack a back molar from clenching our teeth. Yet contempt strokes my selfish underbelly; lulling me into a drunken bliss. When I finally come around I find I've been moved into camp bitterness! Ah, this camp may seem comfortable like stepping out into the Arizona air. Stand there long though and a petrifying oven of air claims that camp sucking everything dry. It leaves nothing but brittle shells that turn to dust at the slightest stirring. So I run from that camp once I wake up. Contempt and Bitterness are tough camps to avoid. They have an exchange program and if you don't remove the visors that blind and the cords that bind then you will forever be prisoner to their machinations.

Early in my career I worked at a Home Health care organization. It was the first organization where I worked side by side with many alpha females. I worked hard and minded my own business; apparently I did not establish myself or my territory well. I was seen as a competitor that needed to be put in her place. The pecking order at the office did not follow the job rank so that was perplexing to navigate. Once I determined the most effective way to assert myself and did it; I suddenly had gushing alliances. It sickened me. The only way to have peace in that office was to publicly throw another under the bus. The more calloused heart the better. If I wanted peace; my underbelly stroked, it was obtained by their standards not by the higher road my heart wanted to follow. Welcome to camp bitterness! Knowing that would suck me dry I moved to nomad land. Within a year I was in a manager position over that posse.

Unfortunately, compassion and polite petitions are ignored or often spit on by this world. Even those with the most enduring loving hearts don't have bent ears or opened eyes to those around them. Hence," the squeaky wheel is the one that gets greased"!
Revealing dream:
I'm leaving a parking lot with a trunk full of cooked food from an event. I'm contemplating where I'm going to store all this abundance? I see an obviously starving homeless man crossing the lot. My heart swells thinking well at least today he won't go hungry. As I scoop out the food onto a plate the eager homeless man keeps an eye on the spoon and dips the plate from either weakness or inattention so that the juices run off inside my trunk. No longer concerned with his needs my tongue lashes out in annoyance. How dare he? Can't he see the compassionate thing I am doing for him and show some respect for my property?

How quickly the heart flees from one camp to another! To remain in the camp of compassion by your own will power is a fruitless ambition. The heart is too wicked to obtain such self-control.

I, as well as everyone else, remain in the conflict of two natures. They are not hinged like joy and sorrow. Anyone can feel compassion without knowing contempt. Look at a child who cries for a hurt animal. Anyone can feel contempt without knowing compassion. Same child experiences a deep disdain for another child and does not know why. Sometimes compassion leads us to contempt rightly so! Only misplaced contempt or redeemed contempt can lead to compassion. I take peace in that knowing the conflict has existed since time began and the victory has been established but I mourn that so many of us, especially those enlightened ones refuse to examine where our hearts are residing today? Why are we feeling that way? Are we justified? There is a choice but we all too often forfeit it.