Boudicca's Voice

Processing

I saw the Patriots coming in for the big slam against the Broncos; they're just a better team. It doesn't mean I didn't want the Broncos to create some crazy upset, but I didn't even bother to watch the game. I knew the ending before it happened... we've seen that game... twice this season.

It was a good fun run this football season. I actually watched Pro ball for the first time in a long time. Kinda sad that there is so much wicked in Pro sports that the goodness of a kid like Tim Tebow is an anomoly and makes people want to watch.

Take God OUT of the equation with Tim. The fact remains, he is a sincerely good person with a good heart, very humble. If the world were filled with more people like him, with God or without, this world would be a better place.

In a place such as pro sports, where role models supposedly abound, why do more not aspire to be good like he is? With the gangs, the rapes, the drunk driving, the wife/girlfriend beating, it is to weep. A group of men being paid so much money and yet they are so morally flawed it is repulsive.

And someone like Tim comes in and we tune in because he stands out; he is a rarity.

I'll miss watching him. I probably won't even watch the Superbowl. We always have the fall.

--------------------------------------

There have been some very stressful things going on here that are not bloggable, things I have no control over, yet I'm tasked to work with to try to fix. I can influence and roll up the sleeves and work, yet I know that in the end, it ends because of what others have not done, not because of what I have.

I have volleyed multiple phone calls this week telling me that the reason these things DID end on a positive note is because of what I did do to take it to the finish line. A passionate speech given on a Saturday morning to 75 women, challenging them to reach deep and find it within themselves to join me for the better of what we do. Hours spent on a spreadsheet sifting through money, calling parents, deriving multiple scenarios to figure out how to make 'things' happen.

In the end, both had happy endings, but not without the Mother of all Migraines on my part and at one point taking to a dark room to try to sleep it off, telling the boys, "Give me just a couple hours and I'll be Mom again. I need to decompress."

Is it worth it? I dunno. But it worked and I know that none of this will be my problem next year and I'm going to spend the next six months improving processes, growing depth and leadership in certain organizations, and accountability in others. I'd rather be remembered for the process improvement than for fixing the problems.

I think that somehow what happened this past week has something to do with the incredibly crazy dream I had last night.

My home is my haven.

I was in my bathroom at my vanity, and at my feet was sitting a baby that looked just like Ringo when he was a little guy. Roly Poly, light brown skin, big smile, dark whisps of hair, my Italian looking baby.

But it wasn't Ringo because Ringo had just come in from trimming the hedges with an electric trimmer saying to me, "I'm NOT going to do yardwork in the rain..."

So I put the baby on my hip, walked out to the living room, looked out the our backyard (we live on an acre) and in the distance I saw a big black cloud coming with a thunderstorm and rain. Big rain.

Mr. T was on the tractor, oblivious to the storm, and he was heading straight for the house, right towards me.

I looked over him and the storm was racing towards us, like I'd never seen, and then I noticed the fire. There was fire.... everywhere this storm drenched, there came water and fire... and I flung open the sliding glass door and screamed at Mr. T, "RUN! GEt in here! It's coming!"

He looked at over his shoulder and saw the fire thunderstorm coming and with an absolute look of terror, he gunned the riding lawn mower. I had been expecting him to leap off and run. T is known for his speed. His nickname was 'The Jack Rabbit" in baseball.

But instead of leaping off and running, he gunned the lawn mower, came right at me, I opened the door wider and he just rode that John Deere, right into the house... and I laughed and shut the door.

And we were safe. And the storm passed, my yard was charred and my home had NOTHING wrong with it. The fire burned out. All the grass was completely scorched in long lines.

And there is so much completely weird about this dream. Why were we safe from a fire storm in our home? Why did it only touch the outside yard and not our home?

And in the middle of the most terrifying part, I laughed. I laughed at my son and his reaction and his facial expressions and how we handled it together.

Just odd. I think it all has to do with my brain trying to process this week. Just not sure how it fits... except my kids do make me laugh, even in the face of the worst.

Posted by Boudicca at January 15, 2012 12:38 PM