These are anxious times we're living in

When he's in town, my husband's usually out the door every morning by five-thirty. However, one day last week my youngest came down for breakfast at 7:00 and found his dad eating toast at the table-for-three. Here's the dialogue that followed:

"Why are you here?" my son asked.
"I live here," my husband replied.
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
My husband glanced at the clock and shrugged. "I'll be there in an hour."

Looking worried, my son slid into a chair across from him. "Will you get in trouble for being late?"

My husband's eyebrows shot up. "I don't think so."

"Could you get fired?" my son pushed.

Before my husband could reply our youngest stood up and began pacing around the kitchen. "Because if that happens we could lose our house and then we'd have to live in our car, and if we lost our car we'd have to go live under a bridge, and I don't want to live under a bridge!"

My husband froze, toast midway to his mouth, and I immediately jumped in to reassure our youngest that we wouldn't be setting up house any time soon under a bridge.

Days earlier there'd been a special on TV about two families who'd been impacted by the recession. One was about a single mother and her kids, how they lost their apartment and had to live in an SUV. The other was about a family of four, how the father got laid off and they had to temporarily live under a bridge. It was well-done, the sort of show it's hard to turn away from. I watched it while making dinner and my kids did, too.

I turn off the news when they cover gang wars, murders, sexual predators, child abductions, etc. But not a show like this where my kids get to see how fortunate we are, a show that teaches them to be empathetic about what others may be going through. I just honestly didn't think my son would ever make the leap he did or that watching it might cause him any anxiety. Guess I should've had a more indepth dialogue with my kids than I recall having.

What about you? Do shows like that make you approach the way you're living your life any differently?

Experiencing Mother's Day in a bubble

I float through Mother's Day each year with no worries. I don't work, or parent, and I refuse to get drawn into conflicts. Simply put, for twenty-four hours I'm not available.

However, I am privy to observing what happens around me, and this year, like every other, has been enlightening. The day began with my family letting me sleep in (bliss) followed by my husband making me an espresso (double bliss).

Fast forward one hour and my oldest son has locked himself in his room, yelling, "I can't wait to turn eighteen and move out of here!" while the youngest is pounding on the bathroom door, asking me if I can please get out and of the tub and come "straighten Dad out" because "he's going senile."

I couldn't resist. Exiting my Mother's Day bubble for 30 seconds, I asked my 10-year-old if he knew what "senile" meant, and got this reply: "Are you trying to be funny, Mom? Of course I know what it means. It's when my feet are on earth and someone older, who's being hard to deal with, has theirs on another planet!"

Fast forward another hour. The son who was previously locked in his room is now vacuuming the basement, muttering how much he hates Mother's Day, while the younger one just approached me, glowering. "SOS, Mom!" he said, looking over his shoulder to make sure he doesn't get caught bothering me. "I need your help and it can't wait until tomorrow. Dad's being like Hitler. He wants us to help rake the yard and fold laundry before we take you for lunch. How much longer do we have to put up with this?!"

Fast forward two more hours. Imagine, if you will, the four of us sitting at a table, eating a late lunch while facing snow-capped mountains that look close enough to reach out and touch. "Do you like the card we got you?" asks my youngest, grinning. "And what about the restaurant?" says my oldest, "Because I picked the restaurant."

I tell them the card and the restaurant are perfect. Then my youngest, looking highly self-satisfied, sits back, takes a deep breath of mountain air, and says, "Hasn't this just been the best Mother's Day ever?"

My split-second happy place

"My God, you're gorgeous!" Yup. That's what a better-than-average looking man said yesterday while I was loading groceries into my SUV. I'm not kidding. I saw him staring in my peripheral vision, then he seemed to work up his courage, walked straight over and blurted it out with such blatant admiration I couldn't not smile.

Okay, time to fess up.

Let's go back to where I was loading those groceries and I'll finish... So this guy walks up, says, "My God, you're gorgeous!" and I turn around and say, "You mean the dog, not me, right?" At first his face was a sketch of bewilderment, then he turned red and stammered something unintelligible, waving a hand vaguely at Sully, my 165 lb dog, who (as usual) had half his body hanging out the back of the SUV, hoping I'd toss him some food -- any food.

Happens all the time. Dog loving strangers will walk up and say things like, "Well, aren't you beautiful!" or "You're so lovely I just had to come meet you!" and though I know they're talking to Sully and probably haven't noticed me at all, I usually allow myself a few happy seconds to pretend they're talking to me.

Wouldn't you?