This year I wanted to dress my little one patriotically as I always do for the 4th of July.  When I came across this outfit I thought it was the most clever thing I had ever seen.  Her little blue top had white sea stars and her red shorts had horizontal stripes.  I thought it was a perfect and fitting take on the “stars and stripes” for my little star of the sea; the meaning of her name in Latin.  It was a happy family time.  And she certainly has it different than when I was a kid.  There was music, face painting, a buffet, snow cones, bounce houses and glow sticks for when the sun set before the private fireworks began on the lawn.  I think my husband used to take the festivities for granted, having grown up with them all his life.  I am so thankful my little one has the privilege but I do NOT want her having the false sense of entitlement that too often accompanies such luxuries.  It’s a bit like living in America in general I think.  One simply EXPECTS clean, running water and electricity.  Now Americans seem to expect a TV in every room and food available wherever they may be — whether it’s a grocery store or a hardware store.  I do not want want to become complacent about any of it:  having a car, readily available medical treatment or AIR CONDITIONING!  Anyone able to read this is blessed simply by having access to a computer.  America may not be perfect but I still believe she affords all a chance at life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  As the song “America the Beautiful” says:

“O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

I have probably previously confessed I have never been a doll person.  Frankly I find them creepy, like clowns.  I always loved plush animals as a kid and eschewed any baby Mama ever bought me.  But when I saw this soft, floppy doll I knew I wanted my Baby Doll to have her.  Legend has it she came to life when her very last stitch was sewn from a princess’ dress and, of course, she is my little one’s favorite beloved pink.  She didn’t take to the doll right at first so I figured she just didn’t like her.  I could not very well fault her when I never cared for dolls myself.  And then one day I noticed Jewel Sparkles had been retrieved from a pink basket in the corner where she resided, having been forgotten and not played with.  She reminded me of the sweet little doll in the Island of Misfit Toys from the old “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” claymation.  The next thing I know Jewel began accompanying us everywhere:  from restaurants, to the grocery store, to church.  She has been hugged, whispered to, invited to tea, and loved just as I’d hoped she would be.  I snapped this picture of Jewel at the country club; my little one didn’t want her getting hurt in the bounce house.  The British idealist philosopher F. H. Bradley once wrote:

“We say that a girl with her doll anticipates the mother.  It is more true, perhaps, that most mothers are still but children with playthings.”

I may have never loved pretend dolls in the past but I sure do love the real life Baby Doll I am blessed with now.  She has huge brown eyes fringed with thick, black lashes, a head full of reddish ringlets, the fullest lips, a pert nose, and the softest skin.  Best of all, I can hug her, whisper to her, have tea with her, and love her just as I’d always hoped.

Recently there has been a lot of flap swirling around public toilets and just who should go where.  I remember once when we were first married I SCANDALIZED some people at a bar because I couldn’t wait and I did not want to go by myself.  So I dragged my very embarrassed new husband in there with me.  The next thing I heard was, “Wait!  I have to go, too!”  And so for me nine years ago is when I realized a “one-holer” (as they say in Texas) with a lock and a sink is the way to go.  What on earth is the crime with married couples going in together?  And of course once you have a child sometimes fathers must take little girls past men using urinals.  I find that far more traumatic.  Then as a woman you have the perverted almost-teenage boys in the ladies’ room that try to peek at you through the stall.  That’s just disgusting and a total invasion of privacy.  Family restrooms starting coming around several years ago and it seemed to make it more OK to all go in together.  Then it didn’t matter who changed the baby where (since a changing table is provided) and everyone got to tinkle and wash their hands in safety and privacy.  This is an especially big deal for us in airports; in fact it has been a lifesaver.  We all stay together and our luggage is safe.  I have noticed the newest trend is to have two unisex “one-holers” in restaurants and I am all for them.  If it’s occupied, the door is closed.  If it’s not, the door is open.  How simple is that??  No more endless waiting in line, particularly if you’re a woman.  And parents can take their children to the restroom if they need to go without the horrifying choice of what they might be exposed to or see.  I just don’t get what the problem is.  In fact, I don’t know why no one did this 50 years ago.  Meanwhile, the term “first world problem” comes to mind.  Former United States Secretary of Health and Human Services Sylvia Mathews Burwell said:

“No innovation in the past 200 years has done more to save lives and improve health than the sanitation revolution triggered by invention of the toilet.  But it did not go far enough.  It only reached one-third of the world.”

So while we in the U.S. and other parts of the world are flipping over proverbial sausages and eggs, let us remember those who do not have the luxury of choosing even basic sanitation … much less which toilet to use.

When I was a kid I remember going to this swanky indoor mall area that held various doctors’ offices.  It had live plants everywhere and indoor fountains which sprang up and trickled down through a series of pools lined by rocks.  In the center of the court were two sweeping white marble open spiral staircases.  I remember it vividly although I am not quite sure how many times I went or even why.  After my child was born I found myself having to return.  It was like time stood still; absolutely nothing had changed.  Memories at once intense and ephemeral I cannot quite explain came flooding back:  space and time seemed frozen.  I have to go now every six months to have my skin looked at after having a couple of “suspicious mole” scares and surgeries.  About once a year my little one comes with me.  I remember the last time she went she was afraid of the big turtle who has lived inside the mall forever.  Actually wasn’t scared of it; rather she was reticent to climb it.  She was so tiny then and it had seemed so huge.  This year as we wound our way up the familiar marble staircase holding hands she shrieked, “HEY!  I REMEMBER this place!!!”  (She would have been three the last time she visited.)  Then she asked if she could go see the turtle after my doctor’s visit.  Thankfully there was no cutting this time and I left in one piece.  The next thing I know my little one had scrambled without hesitation up the same turtle I had played on so many years ago.  So this picture is special to me.  The cycle of life repeated on Mother Turtle’s back: she is the symbol of longevity.  American chemist James Bryant Conant once said, “Behold the turtle.  He makes progress only when he sticks his neck out.”  My little one stuck her neck out and conquered the turtle just as I remember finally doing when I was a kid.  As we get older I think we tend to stay in our own shell more and more.  It seems safer, familiar, and comfortable.  I believe I shall endeavor to make progress in my life and stick my neck out more often.  Who knows what I might discover.

When I first moved out on on my own, I remember being devastated after my first wolf hybrid destroyed something I loved.  I recall my gentle mother, so quiet and so full of wisdom, saying to me I had to love my animals more than my things.  It is something I have never forgotten.  I can have an immaculate house that is never messed up or I can share it with creatures who have thoughts and minds of their own.  Sometimes they get sick; sometimes they get nervous; sometimes they get bored; sometimes they get rambunctious.  But it made me realize, would I really want to come home to NO one greeting me with affection and unconditional love versus having a perfect house?  No way!  Our house is a home and not a cold, sterile environment.  It is lived in; it is loved.  If someone is uncomfortable with that by all means please do not come over.  But if if I had to choose between the love and loyalty of a four-legged versus a two I think you know which way I would go.  If something has broken and has had to be glued I decree (thanks to my mother) it has “character.”  I would take a home full of character to a house full of sterility ANYday.  My husband has labeled any scratching or shredding in our home “interior decorating” by the cats.  He has been extremely convivial about it despite my abject despondency over our shredded/decimated sheer ‘privacy curtains” by our Bengal cat Elgin (pictured unrepentantly here.)  The French poet, journalist, and novelist Anatole France once said, “Until one has loved an animal a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”  I absolutely believe that to be true.  And, as much as I value my things, I value my furry family more.

Today was my husband’s birthday.  It just so happened to have fallen on a Sunday.  In our church, we pray for those who have birthdays in the coming week and ask that they stand so they can be recognized.  I daresay ANY Episcopalian would rather be stabbed than have to stand, but parishioners manage to do so every week.  I think my husband is no different, but he stood to receive his blessing nonetheless.  Our little girl was so proud and happy it was his birthday.  A four year old does not realize one views the anniversary of their birth differently than a 43 year old.  I have always loved the words of Dr. Seuss:

“Today you are you!  That is truer than true!  There is no one alive who is you-er than you!”

So simple, yet such an apt sentiment.  God created us all unique and individual.  No one else can be you.  So be the best you you can possibly be!  Birthday or no, realize no one can compare or compete with the special, one of a kind, person God created you to be.  Be the best you for God, for yourself, for your family, and for the world.