What is your "Sweet Spot?"

I’ve been reading, Cure for the Common Life by Max Lucado for the last two months or so. This book promises to help identify your strengths and skills in order to find you’re “Sweet Spot” (what God has put you here on Earth for). Throughout this journey (thus far) I have faced positive and negative truths about my life. In one section of this book it asks you to describe things you enjoyed and where good at in your childhood, youth and adult life. The sad truth was I couldn’t think of anything. I contemplated for two days, remembering, reflecting and revisiting all the little things that make me, me. Initially, I came up with common themes, being outside, socializing with friends & family, persuading others in order to get my own way. A great start but far from specific examples. I enlist my family’s assistance on this important and pivotal subject.

First I ask my husband, “Honey, what am I really good at? What are my strengths?” If someone asked me what are my husband’s strengths I could name a variety of things. My husband replied, um, um… (A minute later) you’re a great mom! Yeah, what else…You’re an excellent bran muffin maker! What else…Basically, the above is all he could come up with. At this point I feel like crying. I call my mom. I ask her, what did I love doing as a child or in my youth? Silence… “Um, you sang all the time!” I respond, yes mom but this book asks you to identify not just what you enjoyed doing but what you were good at. I am not that great of a singer. What else…My mom named similar themes as I did. For example, that I loved going outside, etc. Then she said, “When you were little everywhere you went people seemed drawn to you. You were captivating or in my mother’s words, “you were fascinating to watch.”

This conversation did enlighten me to fact that when kids are small or even in their teens they either volunteer in their community or join a sports team or society. Although, I was in Brownies, had taken two years of piano lessons, was on the Basketball team and Volleyball team. My favorite part was the social aspect: bonding, making friends, keeping everyone’s spirit high. I loved the competitive and physical aspects as well. These activities aside, my childhood and youth were overshadowed by my struggles in academics. All my extra focus went into getting a passing grade.

I call my sister and ask similar questions, “What are my strengths, etc?” Erika replies like everyone else, stumped. Gurrrrrrr…I’m feeling pretty worthless. She did say I was good a kicking her ass growing up. That was true; I did beat her up a lot. Maybe, I can be the next boxing superstar. Um, well maybe, no! God has given every person a gift/strength, but yet I can’t see mine nor can anyone else for that matter.

I have about 25 pages left to go in my book. All I can say at this point is that I have uncovered my hidden talents. Stay tuned to hear what my “Sweet Spot" is!

Creating Easter eggs is not all it’s cracked up to be!

I know corny title but I can’t help myself. It took a few hours tonight to create my less than satisfying Easter eggs. I attempted to poke a hole in the top and bottom of the egg but my finger dexterity was no match for the tough outer exterior of the egg. My future Easter eggs became my hard boiled friends. Once that was completed, I submerged all three of my eggs into a variety (ok, two) of food coloring dyes. Hours later my eggs were finally ready for the design table. I enlisted the help of my son Zach. Step one, explaining our “mission impossible” to the egg and if they choose to accept it they would go down in history as the unbreakable Easter egg. The egg thought it over and agreed readily. Several minutes later all three eggs cracked slightly but still intact to complete the mission. With several tools of the trade: glue gun, markers, twists’, sprinkles and a picture the mission soon was completed. Next time I will leave Martha Stewart’s “how to guide” on making Easter eggs untouched on her Web page. Her web page creators should post a warning on the Easter egg sections. It may go something like this, “Warning, creating Easter eggs is one of the most difficult crafts to master. Only expert craft makers should attempt such a feat.

What are the odds?

Thursday morning I was clipping Ethan’s (my youngest son) nails when the last nail clipped flew up, finding its way past my glasses and into my eye. Ouch! I put Ethan down and ran for the bathroom, trying my hardest not to blink. I gazed into the mirror and could see the nail in the corner of my left eye. I tried to clasp it with my fingers but the attempt was unsuccessful. I then try flushing my eye with contact solution (don’t ask, it was what was handy). I check my eye again, no nail, it’s gone. The good news: it didn’t stick into my retina or any other part of my eye ball. The bad news: the nail is wedged under my eye lid. To make matters worse Ethan screamed at me the whole time. He was getting hungry and wanted me to hold him. This situation added to my already high frustration level.

I call Tele-Care (a switchboard of on call RN nurses that assess your situation via telephone and recommend the best course of action). The receptionist takes my information and states within a ½ hour I will hear from one of the nurses. After 45 minutes I call my doctors office to see if my family doctor can fit me in and retrieve the nail. The secretary explains that my doctor is no longer at that office and her office is closed until March 12. She advises me to call another clinic to see if a doctor there can see me. I call the clinic recommended but they are booked completely for the day. I call back to Tele-Care to find out why no one has called yet. The receptionist explains that my phone number had been recorded incorrectly. She then transfers me to a nurse. The nurse asks me many questions, in the end, as expected I would have to go to the emergency room to have the nail removed. She advises me to shut my eyelid and cover it with something to ensure the nail doesn’t change position and scratch my retina.

After I call my husband and brief him on the situation I fold up a Kleenex and tape it too my eye. While I’m waiting for Troy to pick Ethan and me up to go to the hospital I can feel the nail moving. It feels like the nail is now in the corner of my eye. I pull off the patch and sure enough the nail is in the corner of my eye. Because I can’t clasp it with my fingers I grab my tweezers and very carefully remove the nail. I keep the nail to show everyone and tell the tale. What are the odds a finger nail could potentially cause so much trouble. I was so lucky that the nail didn’t scratch my eye or the fact it came dislodged on its own and that I didn’t have to wait countless hours in the emergency room.