Cracked Pots

wow - 2 blog posts in one day from me... LOL

For all the differences between me and my mum, and how she drives me insane with the fact that anything I ever do is never good enough or I should have done it differently, for all my lack of self esteem and self doubt, Mum sent me the following in an email. I thought it was worth sharing. Make sure you share it with at least one person today.

I want to dedicate this to Julie. If there were ever a person who needs to take the message from this, (other than me) it's her. The world would be a much sadder place without everything she is and everything she brings to those around her. 

So, for my very special friend Julie...

Cracked Pots

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments.

But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream.

'I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.'

The old woman smiled, 'Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?'

'That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them.'

For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.

Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.'

Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding.

You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

So, to all of my cracked pot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Please go outside...

 ....to sneeze.... were the words that came from my hubby. Oh yeah, like I have a lot of time to prepare to get outside in time.

I have a womans worst nightmare. A cold. Just a cold... nothing major, just a cold (according to hubby). Yet when my hubby has it, it's influenza.. malaria... bubonic plague... (you get the picture). Women are expected to carry on as normal. Add a cold onto the top of Fibromyalgia and it's wipeout time. But alas, I cannot lay down and die quietly to myself to get on with it and recover. No. It's half term at school and my 4 year old is running around like a looney and needs entertaining. Her constant chatter and questions are tiring and my poor snot filled brain doesn't want to function. I still need to get up and down, running around after her, getting drinks and providing food when necessary as she's not old enough to get it herself yet, and she's not one for sitting down to watch TV or a film for moe than 10 minutes at a time. Dinner is still expected by hubby at the end of the day when he gets home from work. 

Yesterday morning I got 'that look' from him when he asked me if I would pick him up from football at 7pm as he'd had the works company car the day before and was driving to work in it, but would have no way of getting home after football. I looked at him and asked 'can't you get the bus home? I've got this cold and feel crap.' to the reply of 'the footy pitch is about 3 miles away from the bus stop.' I asked, 'can't one of your 'mates' bring you home, or take you to the bus stop?' he replied 'I can't expect one of them to run me about.' 'Oh but you can expect me to drive 12 miles to pick you up, 12 miles home, have dinner done all on top of feeling really shite?' [insert 'the' look]. He didn't phone for me to collect him and he somehow managed to get home without me. I didn't enquire as to his method of getting home. I was met with 'god you look shite' (thanks darling!). I said, it's a good job I feel shite otherwise that comment might have had a different result. 

So this morning I got up feeling worse than yesterday, and it's day 3 of this cold. I have no energy to entertain Isabelle so we will do sitting down things today. As I type this, she is stood at the side of me telling me about snakes. (!) Did I know that snakes have cold blood not hot? And a type of snake is a viper. And that it's windier outside than it is on Uranus. (Is Uranus windy? Hmmm, I'll have to google that one). These are the things my poor snot filled brain has to deal with daily when my 4 year old goes into information overload talk.

So the reason for hubby telling me to go outside to sneeze is that we watched Richard Hammond's Invisible Worlds on Tuesday night and he told us (my cold had started that afternoon) that humans sneeze at a speed of about 120 miles per hour, although adults between the age of 40 and 50 (I'm 41) can sneeze at 800mph. I am always very conscious about sneezing and when I have a cold I have the tissue box glued to my hand to catch the sneeze, but if you don't cover your mouth when sneezing, it can travel between 5 and 10 feet (although airbourne particles can stay in the air for up to 10 hours). Science on telly has a lot to answer for, and I'm certainly not going to stand outside in hail/sleet/snow to sneeze.

I think a Chinese meal is in order for tonight's dinner seeing as it was payday yesterday and I'm going to try and convince Isabelle that she can actually play and make things by herself for a change.