Things that make me go HHHMMMMM!!!!

Things that make me go HHHMMMMM!!!!.


Things that make me go HHHMMMMM!!!!

There are just some items and concepts out there that leave me scratching my head in confusion, irritation, frustration, or curiosity.  I offer them here, because my brain is too shot for in-depth conversation this evening.  Enjoy.


How many licks it actually takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll toostie pop.


Why stores that are open 24/7 have locks on their doors.

Why are churches locked?  Who are we keeping in, and who do we not want entering?

The Snuggie

Political fear mongering

War and Peace-the full volume…and why I read it

Why people believe the Social Contract is a value and not an entity

The definition of normal

Molds–in whatever form

Lady Gaga’s motivation.  Who is she really?

Is Michael Jackson really deceased or frozen cryogenically

Real leadership

The necessity of New Coke

The purpose of thong underwear.  C’mon they are not comfortable, and no one could look good in them.

Apathy…in a time of such change and possibility, how some can sit by complacently is beyond my comprehension

Hatred and racism…have we really not grown up and moved beyond this?

the Spork.  Which is it?

The squeak of water chestnuts  ( scares the goobers out of me)

The numbers of cooties it seems that all boys and girls carry in elementary school.  Where do the cooties go after elementary school?

The big wig interactive map that CNN whips out at every election

Drama for Drama’s sake.

Ignorance for ignorance sake and its repercussions

Please feel free to add to this list or challenge any of my own.  My brain is telling me it is time to quit.  Adieu.

Shalom dear ones,



Life NEVER the Same!

Life NEVER the Same!.

Life NEVER the Same!

Watching my kids today, I made several observations.  Not one to create Top Ten lists, I just have a few thoughts as a result of this thang called parenting.

There is never a moment of privacy again.–Does not matter if it is using the restroom, taking a shower, a bath…they find their way to you every time!

Never do I watch the news or read the newspaper without thinking that that is someone’s child.

New furniture has to wait until they graduate

They smell great after a bath, no matter the age.

Sleep is an unknown commodity.

Once a parent, always a parent…evidently the older they get, the more we worry.

Quality and Quantity does matter–as it relates to time spent with them

No better words  on the planet, “I love you, too.”

Best words followed by a hug, even better.

They always want in your bed.

Any words related to bowel movements, the bathroom, or other bodily functions create endless conversation.


Asking their forgiveness is the most humbling moment ever, I do it–often

Kisses cover a multitude of boo boos, and hurt feelings.

Waiting for the day I can afford to have kids will never arrive.

Living vicariously through them is NEVER an option

Living the journey with them is ALWAYS an option

Both my sons challenge me to be a better human being, they are my heroes in the flesh.  I tell them every stinking day.

The day you graduate from diaper bags and car seats is victory.

Time stands still and whips too fast at the same time.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell who needs holding more, you or them.

Fascinating to see your likeness in them, whether they are biological or not.

With one smile, they can melt you heart, make you laugh, or reduce you to tears

The sound of them singing is pure bliss

The struggle to get them out of the house ASAP and to keep them forever is never-ending.

No girl will ever be good enough for my boys

Likewise, my boys will never really be good enough for someone’s daughter

No one dreams more for them than we do

Much as I love them, there is ONE who loves them more…my job is to take care until they are called home.

No one can drive me up the wall quicker, or speak to my soul deeper

Nature takes on a whole new meaning when seeing it through their eyes.


I think I am done for now…I thought this would be more jovial, but I have been caught by the “Jersey Girl” movie bug.  Forgive me my more serious vein tonight.




Haiku? Achoo!

Haiku? Achoo!.

Haiku? Achoo!

A Colleague of mine challenged me to the great Haiku write for 30 days.  In an effort to streamline my writing and to concentrate on economy of words and idea efficiency he posed the idea to write a Haiku a day for 30 days.  Never one to shy away from hard work, I dug in and committed to the veggies idea….According the the Food Pyramid, we are to eat 5 a day (fruits and veggies that is) for healthy mind and body.  So, I endeavored to write 5 a day…I choose 5 random items or concepts and write based on what the energy and spirit gives me…..

Some stink….like dead fish.  Some are not bad..I am offering a handful for comment and reflection.  Throw your thoughts my way, I also try to accept critique in a more grace-filled manner…Be not hurtful, but honest.

   Turtles                                                                              Peace                                                                Hope

poking through a shell                                             shimmering like glass                                  down the crap pit placed

hesitant to venture forth                                    silence begs to deep silence                       drowning in mud; stuck in time

what wonder revealed                                         reflect back true self                                      for light to renew

Bubbles                                                                                 Blue                                                                                  Cookie

dig deep the wand below –                                       azure most brilliant                                           little blue monster

slowly remove- careful drips                          the splash of sky a lake             with no teeth- yet your mouth chomps

breathe in -blow- it grows                                     weaves earthly connect                                  the cookies i crave


we pour in millions

as the flood of age claims more

of what we once were

                                                                all written by cindyaheidelbergerlarson  jan. 2012



My Golden Girls

My Golden Girls.

My Golden Girls

My mom and I watched a couple sitcoms religiously when I was a kid.  One of those was Golden Girls, I must admit here that I still sit and watch reruns, even though I have seen virtually every one of them.  I love the quick wit and sarcastic conversation.  I have discovered the same comraderie in my local drug store.

The women at the store are an unending source of laughter and smiles.  The last time I was in there the gaggle of gals were discussing their hunger pangs…I smiled as I listened to comparisons of soup and preferences ensued.  I was running in on my lunchbreak and this was a bright spot in my extremely busy day.  The manager commented on how she could not eat canned soup, even to this day.  I thought about that and remarked that I cannot eat spaghettios….they taste like the metal of the can.  What I anticipated would be a solitary foray into the drug store ended in laughter and the warmth of women who make people feel good about themselves.

This is not the first time I have left smiling.  I know all the women by name, and the lead pharmicist always comes around the counter to give me a hug and ask how I am doing.  They generally care and are interested in the people who walk through the door.  I told them one day that they are a blessing to me and to others.  I think this is one of the hallmarks of a smaller town.  The women here journey through and with people.  For me personally they are hugs and support and laughter

Today I went in because I needed to pick up the order I placed last week,  There is a spray analgesic called Blue Emu that seems to help my tight shoulders and neck better than mot things out there.  No amount of massage is cutting the pain and offering relief, so this is the next best option.  When I entered the store the manager was talking about Ewoks from Star Wars. So the comparison between Ewoks and some furry creatures from Star Trek continued.  I laughed aloud and wondered what was happening….they had received these round furry blue and orange animal type things that made some weird vocalization…Sure they were cute, but I am not sure they ranked with Ewoks…the closest thing I could equate would be a Furby and even that is stretching things a bit.  Round colored volleyballs with hands and feet and their eyes…well to say that they looked like they were on drugs in an understatement.  Such dilated not right for a drugstore…..  We laughed and then the manager gave me my package and said she had wondered all day why Cindy had placed an order for a Blue Bird… a Blue Emu…Ah, I love these girls. 

There are times when living in a small town drives me nuts.  When I crave the chance for culture and adventure and romance of faraway dreams gives way to a more secure understanding of connection and community.  I am thankful for these women, these Golden Girls….






Wow, I had just put my computer down after posting that I should do this and I should do that… oldest son just got me.

He came in from playing outside on a snow mound–wet, covered in whiteness, and rosy-cheeked.  Both my boys reminded me of times when I grew up at the lake.  My broth  ers and I would spend hours outside creating snow forts and sled paths that led to streaming down the lake…zooommm.  All three of us had a specific job.  My older brother would “cut out” the design, I followed by cleaning and kicking my way to make the tunnel bigger, and my little brother hauled away sled fulls of snow to reinforce the walls.  This was elaborate and arduous work.  My mother made sure that we connected with her every half hour or so.  When we heard the pounding on the big windows in the house, we knew we had to make mom happy.  “Throw up an arm or a leg”, my brother would yell.  This meant that each of us had to present an appendage so she knew we were still alive and not buried under piles of snow.  Ahhh the memories. 

I wish my kids were out at the lake growing up today.  I learned so much building snow forts, playing Guerilla Warfare, and biking all over the countryside.  WE played well, we three.  We had too, we had no one else to help occupy our time.  As a result, there was not much fighting.  Snow days were made for long days of RISK ( dimes became nuclear bombs) and I still love Kamchatka.  Monopoly was also high on the list as was building  forts in the house…the livingroom in the kitchen and vice versa.  I swear I was meant to be a boy in those years, I certainly grew up like one.  I think it made me a more creative person.

ANYWAY, that long segue gives me motivation for my oldest son.  He came in all wind-swept and glowing from exercise…it was beautiful to see.  I almost wish I had snow boots and pants to join them.  I can’t remember the last time I owned either one…That realization just hit me, I do not own a single pair of boots or snow pants.  Weird. 

My son asked for a bath.  He fills it with hot water, no bubbles, and soaks and floats….it is his unplug time.  Part female here? Naw, just in touch with what his soul needs!  He came out wrapped in a towel, wet and tousled.  He has reached that big toothy stage where teeth take up most of his face and his smile is a bit awkward.  Love it.  He sat opposite me and told me he would like to sing the “Star Spangled Banner”  I sat on the floor to listen, I should have shut my mouth.  He started and immediately and it sounded de-nasal.  All my years of lessons and concert choir rushed back as I instructed him to open his mouth so the sound comes out more rounded.  I even put my hand under his chin to help him open his mouth.  OH MOM!!!!!  He shut down right away.  I saw it and he said ” I am just a bit embarrassed now.”  He choked back tears and I was instantly humbled.  What was I thinking?  I hugged him and told him to sing exactly the way he wanted and asked his forgiveness.  Yup.  I asked my son’s forgiveness.

How could I put him in that position?  Easy.  I am a  perfectionist and the same standards I have for them have been ingrained in me since I was small. My mother may read this and I can still remember her telling me that if I wanted to be a good vocalist I should be able to imagine middle C in my mind and sing it on pitch every time.  I couldn’t then and I quit singing in front of her.  I don’t think she has ever really heard me open up and sing….my desire was squelched that day.  It was no longer fun to sing in the car or in the house with my family.  I learned a valuable lesson that day and I learned an even bigger lesson today.  SHUT UP MOM!    He did sing for me and I helped him with the lyrics, and he smiled.  I do remember him looking at me and telling me “Mom, I don’t sing as good as you.”  Wow.  We think they don’t listen or internalize….they do.  I reversed something I learned ages ago today and I am glad I had the presence to do so.

As for my singing…I sing, I sing well.  Mom’s reading this and she knows it to be true.  I’ve sung weddings, choir, cantatas, musicals, and countless hours in the car.  Maybe one day soon I will sing for her, but that is my issue…not hers.  Today I shut up and listened to one of the most beautiful renditions of the national anthem I have ever heard…Steven Tyler, eat your heart out.



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