My mom had a phrase she would use when we were growing up. It would often happen after a long weekend, when there were just a million things out of place. She would always ask, usually during dinner, if she could “set the timer for one hour.” Now, this practice was always curious, for in asking this question she was telling both a literal truth and a lie. The lie was the words “may I.” She always asked, just out of politeness. This was a lie because of course, she was mom, there was no way we would ever say no. The truth, on the other hand, was that she was literally going to set the timer for exactly 60 minutes. Continue reading “An Ode to the Kitchen Timer”
Moving to a new city as an adult is, in my opinion, one of the greatest trials of life. While those that have never moved far from home may find this statement a wee bit dramatic, those that have started completely fresh in a new town will know exactly what I mean. Starting completely from scratch feels nearly impossible. When I moved to Oklahoma for graduate school, my mom came out with me to help get my apartment set up. The first few days in my new city I had her by my side, so I didn’t notice how lonely it was. The second I got back from dropping her off at the airport and closed my front door behind me, I realized: I was completely alone.
I remember, vaguely, a time in which my wonderful old college friends and I were relaxing on a Sunday, sitting around the couch and talking about our friendship. We started going around in a circle, trying to find one word to describe each of us. While this activity was totally Seventh Heaven of us, it was actually very fun, and one of my dearest memories (despite the fact that I can’t remember when this was or why we started!) One of the words that came up to describe me was “festive.” I laughed, but boy, did they hit the nail on the head. I am incredibly festive. If I am completely honest with myself, my favorite holiday is whatever one is currently being represented by the dollar section of Target.
“Give it to a busy girl, and she’ll get it done.”
My mother has said this to me about 6 million times in my life. The expression is self explanatory, but what my mom actually means by it goes much deeper.
You see, there is an old Chinese proverb that I love (that not surprisingly, my mother also taught me) that says “time is a created thing – to say ‘I don’t have time’ is to say ‘I don’t want to’.” While this is a very simplistic view of time and business, it is actually not untrue when you think about it. On most days, I always seem to have time to scroll through Instagram. I always have time to look through my emails and click on the enticing one from Banana Republic informing me of (another) sale. I always have time to hit the candy bowl in the office. What I don’t seem to have time to do is go to the gym everyday, get eight hours of sleep everyday, write that check for the bill in the mail. Why? Because if I’m really honest, I don’t want to. I do want to look through fun pictures on Instagram so there is always time for that. Time is a created thing. Continue reading “Give It to a Busy Girl – Reflections on Time”
My mother has a little photo album that sits on the coffee table during the holiday season. There are 30 photographs lovingly place inside, one for each year that she has been a mother. These photos tell the story of every Christmas from 1987 to 2017.
For the past two weeks I feel like the images of Baker Mayfield losing his cool on the sidelines against Kansas have been on a constant loop. SportsCenter and anti-OU people alike are having a field day painting the bad boy persona of him. Name calling is rampant, and the words “Heisman Hopeful” have now been replaced with “hot head” and “bad boy.”And, frankly, it’s making me furious. Continue reading “In Defense of Baker Mayfield”
My father is an enormous football fan. I can still remember the distinctive echo that came from Daddy having the television set on in the kitchen, the family room, and the garage (in case he had to step outside!) all at the same time. No way would he miss a minute! While he is officially a Cowboys fan, his greatest joy comes from college football. My father truly is Sooner born, Sooner bred, and when he dies he will, indeed, become sooner dead. Continue reading “Discovering Football”