Barbie's Brand

There is a special place in my heart for First Ladies. 

I've never done a book report on any of them, not yet read a biography and could only pick the last nine or so out of a crowd. 

Barbara Bush, Nancy Reagan, Rosalynn Carter, Betty Ford, Pat Nixon, and Lady Bird Johnson

Women of class, patience, structure, grace, nerves of steel and put-together faces, each of them. But beside that, each made a difference in their own ways:

Betty Ford removed the stigma of alcoholism after sharing her own battle and opening the Betty Ford Clinic. 
As first lady Nancy Reagan became almost synonymous with her Just Say No campaign against drug abuse.
We'll always remember Barbara Bush for her work and legacy in literacy. She was the one who encouraged us feverishly to read to our children.
Michelle Obama will be remembered for her campaign to eliminate childhood obesity. 
And on the other hand, Dolley Madison will always be remembered for her fantastic personally-packaged baked goods. 

Wrong gal?

We were watching the coverage of Barbara's death last evening in the living room, the three of us. Ironically, as decades of First Lady footage played on our television, I sat with Caroline, a stack of bedtime books next to us. We don't go to bed before reading around a dozen each night. 

Once I got Caroline to bed, I sat and continued to watch the coverage of a life well lived by a woman who gave so much to her family and the world. As we watched in silence, I wondered about my life's mission and if one day people will be able to so easily recall my mission as they can with Betty, Barbara, Michelle and others. 

Would it be my constant calling to find the best in (almost) every day?

Would it be my willingness to forfeit comfort to save a few bucks?

Would it be my preference of humor to alleviate life's general, nagging pain?

My mental quest for answers was interrupted: 

"I almost forgot! I picked something up for you today," Cody said, breaking the silent observation of Bush coverage and jumping out of his recliner. "Be right back." He left the house, but was back in less than two minutes. 

He came into the living room and tossed this onto the couch where I was sitting:

"Your own bale knife! 

I know you love that Elanco one you've had forever 

but this one is pink. 

And I know you hate pink 

but at least you know I won't borrow it," he continued. 

"And in was in the sale bin 

- less than five dollars - 

so I knew you'd be happy about that."

My husband - with whom I share my home and life - travelled throughout his day and was reminded of me when when he spotted a $3 pink blade knife in the bargain bin.

I guess in terms of creating my 

brand, mission and legacy, 

I have a way 

- as in, many, many miles - 

to go. 

Oh Barbie, teach me your ways. 

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

Do you know the best thing about the way the 2016 election turned out?

The sun will come out tomorrow.

As I write this, no polling place has been closed, no state has been declared and no race has been called. As I write this, Americans are still feverishly voting.

The best thing about not knowing how the presidential race will end is being forced to remember all the certainties that I can still rely on. Perhaps you can rely on these, too.

I know that there has never been a greater need for our country to instill two things into the next generation: honesty and character. 

OK, three things: A sense of humor.

I know that our kids would have brighter futures if they had to use a landline phone, with a long spiral cord connected to the wall, to contact their friends.

I know I’ll still feel compelled to buy something I don’t need to justify using the coupon burning a hole in my wallet.

I know that God knew the outcome of the election long before any media did and that this has been a part of His plan for a long, long time.

I know that there is no better time to make that phone call to the person you’ve neglected. You've put it off long enough.

I know that I never want my mother to see two things: the inside of my oven or the mop water after I’ve scrubbed my kitchen and bathroom floors. 

I know that now – more than ever – kindness matters.

I know that prayer is bringing your wishes and worries to God, but faith is leaving them there. I also know that faith is tough.

I know that the best way to raise strong kids is to be an example: Be nice to servers, invest in your health (eat beef and greens and move), and with confidence unapologetically represent what you believe. 

I know that as you age you realize that saving money is far more gratifying than spending it.

I know that the hours spent at work will never reciprocate the joy found in the hours spent with the people you love.

I know that there is power in accepting the fact what goes in the dryer may never come out. Get over it.

I know that your opportunity to be a mentor, a better friend or a positive influence has never been greater. Be someone worth knowing.

I know that sometimes a battle won is actually a battle lost. Perspective.

I know that an hour of alone time to think far outweighs two hours of social media scrolling.

I know that confidence is far quieter than insecurities. In fact, the person who must be heard and seen is likely the one who relies on others' validation.  The confident person rests assuredly on their own beliefs, values and goals; they need not accreditation from other sources. 

I know that if you chop your own wood you warm yourself twice.

I hope that you woke this morning with a heart full of optimism as we move forward as a country. Do not be weary. God’s plan for this life far exceeds anything you can imagine right now.

How awesome is that?