Wittle Wisdom Wednesdays: A Day in the Sand

In this society, I'm sure that no one would disagree that we are constantly on-the-go.  We have goals.  We have desires.  We want it.  And we want it now.

Between iPhones (guilty...), iPads, blackberries, and a multitude of other mobile media, we are always connected and able to work from every nook and cranny in the world! ...well...sometimes.  Service gets a little sketchy the closer you get to Manchester, Tennessee.  Just ask my poor husband.

The purpose of this technological age was to decrease the amount of time needed to complete projects.  But so far, it's managed to increase our productivity so much, that we now get four times as much done as long as we take the work home and do it on vacations.

I say it's time to just take a break.

Unplug.

And stick our fingers in the sand.

It's amazing what even as little as 2 hours of sun, surf, and sand can do.  A local lake...a neighbor's pond...or even just a lawn chair in your own back yard provide the perfect opportunity to open a book, kick off your shoes, and calm your mind.

Because truly, what's the point of working if we can't enjoy what we're working for.

Come back tomorrow to see Julie's maternity pics!  Here's a quick taste to wet your whistle.

Wittle Wisdom Wednesdays: Puddle Jumping

When the weather is hot and you can't stop sweating...  When temperatures are skyrocketing and even a Venti Starbucks Vanilla Iced Coffee (yum!) doesn't cool you down...  It's time to hit the pool.

Because at this point, the only thing that's going to take away that achy feeling of supressing humidity is a cool, refreshing dip.

But what happens when the pool is closed?  What happens when it rains and the massive lightening storm prevents you from enjoying the pure bliss that is the swimming pool.

Well, according to precious Olivia, the answer is simple!

You jump in a puddle.  Obviously.

Too often we look at what we can't or don't have instead of enjoying the fun that is all around us.  I say we take a moment to stop obsessing over what we want and to start enjoying what we have!

I mean, if a 4-year-old can do it...why can't I?

Wittle Wisdom Wednesdays: The Art of Negotiation

As many of you know, I have a friend who is full of copious amounts of wisdom.  I'm pretty sure I learned the word "copious" from her...or possibly Dr. Seuss.  I don't know.  Either way, the fact that this friend is 4-years-old (soon to be 5!) is not lost on me.  But rather than be ashamed that a 4-year-old knows more about the world than I do, I figured I'd rather SHARE her wealth of knowledge in an installment I like to call:

Meet Olivia.

She is about to instruct us on the Art of Negotiation in 4 Simple Steps (…if you’re a 4-year-old, that is)

Step 1: Assess your desired target or item.

In this case, a delicious coffee-flavored frozen beverage.

Step 2: Suggest an offer.

“Daddy, how about if you pretend like that drink isn’t real.”

Step 3: Await confirmation that your offer was received.

“What? So that you can have it?”

Step 4: Accept the counter-offer as the adult has unwittingly played right into your teeny tiny hands.

“Yes.”

She’s probably going to grow up to rule the world some day.

Don't Talk To Strangers

Before he was the governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger was Mr. Kimble, Kindergarten Cop.

When I was 8, I found that movie to be delightful. Whether it was his endearing accent, the traditional fish out of water tale, or the veins bulging from his neck as he spewed one of the most quote-worthy phrases of the 90s (“It’s not a too-mah!”), I’ll never know. All I know is that I learned an important lesson from that flick:

“Don’t talk to strangers.”

However, my sweet friend, Little Olivia, has a whole different take on the subject.

One afternoon, LO, her mommy, another friend, and I were eating lunch at a local sandwich shop.

LO’s coat had accidentally fallen onto the floor, our group none the wiser.

A very nice gentleman with a gray beard began walking past but paused when he noticed the coat on the floor. Being the nice gentleman that he was, he picked up the coat and handed it to LO’s mommy with a gentlemanly, “Whoops! Looks like ya dropped this!” The nice gentleman then moved on to join the rest of his lunch group.

We all smiled and continued with our conversation, only to be distracted by Little Olivia’s look of quiet dismay.

She watched the man walk away, her tiny brow furrowed in complete confusion. We were unsure as to what could cause this dear, sweet child such bewilderment until she told us in a loud not-so-whisper, “Mommy, that man didn’t kiss or hug me!”

Today's moral?

Don’t talk to strangers…unless they pick up your coat, then you should expect a hug and a kiss.

Wittle Wisdom Wednesdays: A Place For Everything and Everything in its Place

Mexican food is a not so secret indulgence of mine. I love it. My wise friend Elizabeth said it best when she recounted the importance of finding a Mexican restaurant.

"When moving to a new area of town, the most important thing is to find a nearby Kroger...then a good Mexican restaurant."

That being said, I accompanied my wise friend, Elizabeth, to eat some good Mexican. Seeing as how she is also Little Olivia's mother, I figured it would be a fortuitous opportunity to gain a Wittle Wisdom. And I'm not one to pass up the opportunity to exploit my young, honorary niece.

Immediately after being seated, I noticed that my young friend had a rock fascination. Her mother then explains to me Little Olivia's desire to pick up and take home rocks (I had already been introduced to a few in the car on the way over). However, what was more interesting than her desire to take them home, was her desire to organize them (she is most definitely her mother's daughter).

Little Olivia spent the better part of an hour collecting rocks from the planter in the Mexican restaurant and placing them one at a time on the ledge of our booth.



It was clear that as she began placing the rocks on the ledge like a complicated puzzle that each rock had its specific and perfect station within the intricate arrangement. No rock was more important than another just as no rock was the least. She didn't begin from one end and then move to the other. No, she picked a position for each one in a pattern that only she could understand. They were like little ants marching up the hill to their destination carrying pieces of queso on their backs.

I asked her mother if Little Olivia was good at picking up her room to which her mother replied, "Within thirty minutes of cleaning up her room, it explodes."

So what did I learn? Simply that even to a three-year-old, there is a place for everything and everything has its place...except for toys.

Wittle Wisdom Wednesdays: Love Your Neighbors

Little Olivia is a joy all unto herself. While all children are absolutely adorable (and not to mention, my favorite subjects to photograph), Olivia holds a special place in my heart--I'm sure this has nothing to do with being her honorary aunt. ;)


Not only is she undeniably darling (please observe the banner to see for yourself), but she's also a 3-year-old bucket-o'-wisdom.



Seeing as how Olivia is one of the cutest things since fluffy, long-eared bunnies and too smart for her own good, I thought it would be fun to dedicate a weekly spot on my blog to the little munchkin.



Welcome to Wittle Wisdom Wednesdays: When a 3-year-old speaks...


This Wittle Wisdom comes straight from a conversation between Little Olivia and her Mommy.


Little Olivia: "We love our neighbors...we don't kill them."


Mommy: "...Or, you know....yell at them. We love our neighbors and we don't yell at them. There's no need to be extreme."


Little Olivia: "Yeah, that too. But we don't kill them, though."


So, there you have it, everyone. Love your neighbors. (And don't kill them.)