Does karma really happen to four year olds? Here's how I came to the conclusion it does.... 

           Sunday morning,  yes as in yesterday,  here I am laying in bed,  now mind you I just worked the night before,  got home late, and just as I suspected because they usually go to church on Sunday,  my cousins were staying the night.  I knew right away I would be waking up early the next morning...  And I did....  At 6:30am.... Not to impressed,  but when your alarm clock is a sweet four year old boy asking for "nat nat snuggle time"  how could you hit the snooze button on that? Before I get to deep on this story,  you should know my baby cousin Avery has my heart right now,  I've never been in love with a person so much.  Besides my sister's,  I would die for this kid.  He and I have a connection like no other that sometimes he will call me his sister.   

     Anyway,  we were just getting up for breakfast,  he and I had eggs with ketchup. And he decided not to go to church.   I told him and Skylar,  his brother,  to sit down and watch TV while I took a shower.  Well,  5 minutes later I hear a little boy yelling at his brother,  balling his eyes out.  As I step out of the shower,  reaching for my towel,  Avery comes in yelling for a "bambaid" (band aid)  of course I asked why scrambling to get something around my body,  he lifts his arm up and from the top of his arm pit to the bottom was, I kid you not,  a 6 inch long 3 inch deep cut from playing car crash with his brother on a scooter. There were two prongs on the scooter covered in blood.  Holding back my panic,  I get dressed,  call my nanny and as she pulls in I'm waiting in the driveway for her to rush us to the hospital.  On the way there he's breaking my heart,  crying his eyes out scared because he knows he will have to get stitches.  Long story short,  a few hours later we finally have him in the surgery room,  not put to sleep but enough juice to knock his arm out, the doctor begins stitching I have all I can do to not break out in tears. In that moment from start to finish I finally felt what it's like to I wouldn't say be a mom,  but be that person who can't stand seeing their kid even get a shot.  I would have loved to take the fall over him. I kept thinking to myself over and over again a.  How shitty luck my family has and b.  How Avery really shouldn't have skipped going to church this morning because apparently four year olds get bad karma.  

        But in the end,  Avery took it like a champ,  he's pretty pissed that this weekend is his birthday party is this weekend and he won't be able to have as much fun.  The first thing he said was,  let's go back to nannies and get on the scooter.  What can I say,  boys will be boys,  and four year old get karma for not going to church.  

Does karma really happen to four year olds? Here's how I came to the conclusion it does.... 

           Sunday morning,  yes as in yesterday,  here I am laying in bed,  now mind you I just worked the night before,  got home late, and just as I suspected,  my cousins were staying the night.  I knew right away I would be waking up early the next morning...  And I did....  At 6:30am.... Not to impressed,  but when your alarm clock is a sweet four year old boy asking for "nat nat snuggle time"  how could you hit the snooze button on that? Before I get to deep on this story,  you should know my baby cousin Avery has my heart right now,  I've never been in love with a person so much.  Besides my sister's,  I would die for this kid.  He and I have a connection like no other that sometimes he will call me his sister.   

     Anyway,  we were just getting up for breakfast,  he and I had eggs with ketchup.  I told him and Skylar,  his brother,  to sit down and watch TV while I took a shower.  Well,  5 minutes later I hear a little boy yelling at his brother,  balling his eyes out.  As I step out of the shower,  reaching for my towel,  Avery comes in yelling for a "bambaid" (band aid)  of course I asked why scrambling to get something around my body,  he lifts his arm up and from the top of his arm pit to the bottom was, I kid you not,  a 6 inch long 3 inch deep cut from playing car crash with his brother on a scooter. There were two prongs on the scooter covered in blood.  Holding back my panic,  I get dressed,  call my nanny and as she pulls in I'm waiting in the driveway for her to rush us to the hospital.  On the way there he's breaking my heart,  crying his eyes out scared because he knows he will have to get stitches.  Long story short,  a few hours later we finally have him in the surgery room,  not put to sleep but enough juice to knock his arm out, the doctor begins stitching I have all I can do to not break out in tears. In that moment from start to finish I finally felt what it's like to I wouldn't say be a mom,  but be that person who can't stand seeing their kid even get a shot.  I would have loved to take the fall over him. I kept thinking to myself over and over again a.  How shitty luck my family has and b.  How Avery really shouldn't have skipped going to church this morning because apparently four year olds get bad karma.  

        But in the end,  Avery took it like a champ,  he's pretty pissed that this weekend is his birthday party is this weekend and he won't be able to have as much fun.  The first thing he said was,  let's go back to nannies and get on the scooter.  What can I say,  boys will be boys,  and four year old get karma for not going to church.  

                As I went through files upon files in my brain of all the tiny moments that I've ever that weren't sappy boyfriend stories, or life changing moments that I've already told, but just ones that some time ago I may have taken for granted, or that now, at the age of 18, I would kill to just be in just one more time. Now a days, I just find most of my moments are full of stress, sadness, and anger, that I don't notice when I'm not thinking about the things that are going wrong in my life. So the one I'm about to write about isn't so recent, but one that I most recently keep thinking about all the time. No one tells you when your younger to seriously soak up the little moments, one day they will be worth more than gold. 

               Every Sunday is dump day in Penobscot, and after the snow would finally melt away, and spring was finally spring, I would spend Friday night through Sunday nights with my grandparents. Being right near the water, I love breathing the air while I'm outside at their house, it was just something about that air that made you want to be outside all the time, even just sitting on the porch drinking iced tea was great. Anyway, Nanny would always have these "Make my grandchildren my slave day." Not really, but it always seemed like we did her dirty work for her, looking back at it now, I would clean her yard all day if it meant being with my entire family.  Bumpy had this little Chevy truck, with only 3 seats, it was one of those ones with two seats in the front, and the one tiny one that you had to sit sideways in 'cause it was on the door, so when it was time to go, only two of the seven grandchildren would be able to go, I of course, was always one of them. Most of the time it was only one that went. On our way, the ride was always silent, I always wondered what he was thinking about, I also laughed because he was never good at hiding the fact he dipped, black specks were always stuck somewhere in his beard.  After the travel to town, we hop over to the little store, and he would get a whoopie pie and ginger ale, I would get ice cream, bringing nothing back for the others. Selfish I know, but to me it was special. The whole, trip. With all five words probably spoken. It's just another one of those pointless moments that you look back at now and realize it means more to you than you ever would. The only people that will get what this story means are the ones to have lost someone who's life will forever mean more than your own. Or if you're a person that just loves every moment no matter what. 

 

I realized today,  just after English class, that there were many roots I could go with my blogging.  I could write down many sappy stories of why life actually begins at 18, or just future things I would change in my life,  but while I was standing at my locker talking to Tim,  I hear two men in the back ground saying the word "twinning"  my first thought was that maybe my hearing was off today,  or they could have been talking about something they read. Due to my nosy interest I turn around to two Mr. Clout and Mr. Jones.  As I turn around they are hooting and hollering about the fact they had just about the same color shirt on. I think that since they are up there in age, their eye’s on that strong because they actually had two different colored shirts on. Clouts was red, and Jones had a dark maroon shirt on. I asked them if they planned it knowing they probably didn’t, I just wanted to help them feel better about themselves. While acting like I was totally intrigued by what was going on, they asked me to hurry and take a quick selfie of them. I ended up taking like five selfies and they were loving it the entire time.  As they walked off, Clout came up to me, and said “Natalie, if that selfie goes anywhere, I will kill you.” Little did he know, he set himself up for that one.

            So this led me to the idea of things I want to write about. Moments. Pointless moments of time when nothing else mattered and you weren’t worrying about anything else, but somehow that moment put a spark in you.