Move over, rush. Slow (kind of) is moving in.

via Daily Prompt: Rush

Rush has become the theme of my life in the past few years. Everything seems hurried; even hurry itself is not fast enough for this rushed life.

This morning I had one hour to myself at a coffee shop ACROSS the street from the kids’ zoology class. It felt foreign to relax; I was the person fidgeting and staring out the window as if I could see through walls and hear whispers traveling through air. My legs were ready to dart out the door if the teacher called me.

I’ve become the on-call mom. If emergency personnel is called, I have to be there to inform them of her medical condition and her running list of medications. I am her advocate: I have to be there. It’s not enough that the school has her medical history on file.

This is a learned behavior. The survival stage is behind us now that Ellis made it safely to her fifth birthday, which is a tremendous milestone for her health. However, my whole being feel trapped in the caregiver role.

My worst fear is facing a lifeless child: this fear drives the constant panic and adrenaline rush to be next to her always. It’s unrealistic but it’s a coping mechanism that gives me some control over this emotional situation.

Everyday I’m consciously trying to slow the rushed mind; it needs new rewiring/ training to learn how to chew life in morsels, not gulps. It’s a new season.

What in the world is rube?!

I have never heard someone use the word “rube” in my life. At first glance, I thought it was related to rubiks cube or a ruby gem. But a quick search on the internet showed me it’s a negative word to describe an unsophisticated person who is from a rural area. A synonym is hick or bumpkin.

If you ever want to insult someone indirectly, the word to use would be “rube.” They may call you a “rube” back. It’ll sound like the most sophisticated yet incomprehensible verbal insult to bystanders.

Overall, the words posted on the daily prompts are definitely exposing me dig deeper into the meaning of words and to learn some esoteric ones along the way: rube is one of them.


Dress up vs. costumes for kids


Dressing up is a favorite pastime of ours. Kids get very excited to put together zany outfits with random things they find around the house. Rarely do we refer to it as costumes: it’s just called dress up.

Comparing these two words make me realize that both words have similar meanings: putting on external accessories to appear like someone else. However, the word costume sounds like a deliberate attempt to be like some other specific person or thing whereas dress up seems more informal.

Our dress-up bin contains a variety of accessories: tiger ears, a pirate treasure box, beaded purse to carry to a tea party, butterfly wings, gloves, wands, goggles, hats, sunglasses, etc. They sometimes wear mixing bowls on their heads and march around holding spatulas. Get the wrapping ribbons out, the kids wrap scraps around their wrists to blast power beams and tie around their heads to become so-called ninjas.

To create more possibilities I get tempted to buy more dress-up items, but I consciously stop myself. My rationale is that dress up becomes more spontaneous if ordinary things can be creatively used to imagine ourselves different. But don’t hold me to it because I may just cave when I see dress-up props on sale at local craft stores!!


Tendency to misplace items and mistake time

pexels-photo-753290via Daily Prompt: Tend

I tend to do a lot of things that would be better avoided. One of them is misplacing everyday things. However, the good news is that they are not lost permanently, just misplaced temporarily. Chris kindly comments, out of exasperation, that I would save time if things had a designated spot and if I put them back in its place after use.

I wholeheartedly agree that that’s a great solution but executing that on a consistent basis is another story. One positive light is that during my searches I randomly find things that I misplaced in the past. It’s like a treasure hunt that my kids love to do too. Don’t get me started about finding toys under the couch and shifting all the furniture around together – makes for an achy body but dust-free floors.

Another thing I tend to do is show up too early or miss an event altogether because of some misunderstanding with time. An example of the latter was evident yesterday when we showed up to Ellis’ first dance class one and a half hours early. She frowned at me saying, “Mommy! Not again!”

I tend to do a lot of things, like misplace items or mistake time for too soon or too late. It makes me me, slightly flawed and kooky. I’m okay with not having it all perfectly together but those I’m living with may disagree.

Profuse worrywart


I’m a profuse worrier. I worry about worrying too much or sometimes worry that I’m not worrying enough. Other times when things are going swimmingly – I jog my mind for things to worry about.

Mix in the OCD and that makes for a jolly mix of psychosomatic symptoms.

God has helped me journey through some large worries that seems to get even bigger in the middle of the night. I look back and see how He made pathways in unlikely roads. I had to let go of the worries to make space for something better. C.S. Lewis quotes St. Augustine in his book The Problem of Pain, which clearly encapsulates the hard discovery I made: “God wants to give us something, but cannot, because our hands are full – there’s nowhere for Him to put it.”


To make room for the good, I’ve got to let go of the useless and profuse worries.