His name is Austin and he is just 7 years old.  A slightly built blond haired-blue eyed cutie with dimples that make you melt, you would never know by looking at him that he is my son.  From day one I have heard that he looks just like his Daddy (which doesn’t seem fair since I had to carry him around for 9 months and go through the birthing process au naturale), but I noticed right away that his nose and his feet were just like mine.  In the last 7 years I have found other similarities, some of which are not so apparent.

He is the class clown.  I mean he actually works on his material and tries it out on me before he goes to school.  His first grade teacher commented to me once on his quick wit and comic timing.  I think he has surpassed me in this area, but I remember vividly at a young age deciding that humor would be how I would deal with the world and my classmates.  I was never the prettiest, smartest or most athletic in my class, but I could usually get a laugh out of just about anyone. (Including the stodgy old Sister Kevin at my Catholic school.  Of course she was grumpy!  She had a guy’s name!)

I have also seen a compassionate side to my little guy, and I hope he got just a little bit of that from me.  Since he was a baby, he has accompanied me to various Red Cross emergencies and events.  When he was just three years old he was awakened by the phone ringing at 2 a.m.  I had to send an emergency message to a soldier overseas.  His son had been born.  I remember sitting cross legged on the floor with my own sweet boy in my lap as I relayed the information about the mother and child.  After the call I tried to explain it to Austin and he jumped up and hugged my neck.  “Yea!  New Baby”  He said.  “You’re a good Red Cross Mommy”.  And I have tried to be both, but balancing the never ending 24/7 duties of the American Red Cross and trying to be SuperMom has not always been an easy task.  It’s good to know he thinks I am doing OK.

Austin was born when I was 35 and in fact I didn’t marry until I was 33.  I had spent most of my life moving at break neck speed trying to be a career girl.  I was not interested in marriage and kids.  Not that I didn’t like kids.  My sister has three that I adore and I had resigned myself to the fact that I would just have to live vicariously through her.  I was living the fast life in Orlando.  Traveling, coming and going as I pleased, always concerned with #1.  I never looked ahead, just kept barreling through each day.

When I met the man I would later marry, the farthest thing from my mind was marriage and kids.  Later, when we got serious I knew he wanted children.  This was almost the deal breaker for me.  I was scared to death.  But finally one day I decided I wasn’t getting any younger.  We had moved back to my home state of Alabama and the pace was slower and I had started working for the Red Cross.  I closed my eyes, held my breath and agreed to have a child.

I thought I was ready but I have since learned I didn’t have a clue.  The hardest, most demanding, most exhausting, scariest thing I have ever done is have and try to raise this child!  Every day I pray for his health and safety and that I am doing things right.  I have tried to order an instruction manual for him many times, but just can’t seem to find one!  And I have learned one great truth:  You are never NOT a parent.  It doesn’t matter if you are giving a speech to hundreds of people, driving down the road, sitting in an emergency board meeting or winging your way toward a major disaster, you can’t leave it behind.  He is there in every thought and every moment, reminding me that I am his Mommy.  That is an awesome responsibility.

It is also an awesome privilege.  Each day the hard work pays off with a kiss, the touch of his small hand, a giggle, or an “I love you Mommy.”  It is truly the best feeling ever.  And over the years Austin has made me the person I was meant to be.  I am kinder, quicker, smarter, more loving and more patient.  I think before I act or speak, because there is a very serious consequence if I don’t do things just right.  The recorder is on.  He sees and hears everything.  And I want to give him some material worth remembering.

I hate to admit it, but I do believe chivalry is dead.  Now, I am a pretty tough girl.  I have a strong work ethic and haven’t had a day off since about the sixth grade, so don’t get me wrong.   I expect to work and pay my way in this world and I am not looking for anyone to take care of me.  However, there are certain pleasantries that I have come to expect.  Perhaps it is because I grew up in the South, or maybe my Mom and Dad just raised me right, but since when is being nice to someone or using good manners a thing of the past?

I recently went to California to help with the wildfire relief efforts.  During my travels, never did anyone say please, thank you, open a door, offer to help with luggage, give helpful suggestions or even smile.  When did our society get so grumpy?  I won’t even tell you about the rude treatment I received from the airlines; or the hostile indifference I was treated with at the rental car company or the uncaring incompetence I experienced at the hotel.  But there was one incident that left me in a crisis of faith.

While at the airport in Sacramento, waiting to board a bus to take me to the rental car company, I stood in the midst of about 20 firefighters.  Now, my Dad is a retired firefighter and my father in law is a firefighter.  I have spent most of my life working and being friends with firefighters from all over.  I was happy to once again be in their company. 

I struck up a conversation with one who noticed my Red Cross bag and asked me what I did for the Red Cross.  I explained my job at home, CEO of a local Chapter in Alabama, and told him I was in California to help raise money for the disaster relief effort and to deal with the media.  His response?  “Oh, so you don’t do any of the real work then.”  Ouch!  Not even the formality of “That’s nice.” 

So I asked him what he did and he replied that he was an engineer, he drives the truck.  Not being able to resist I said “So, you don’t really put out the fires, you’re just the chauffeur.”  And then I followed it up with “See all of our jobs are important aren’t they?”  He seemed to understand at this point and said “Touche”. 

This exchange was not what shocked me however.  Many people don’t understand all the intracacies of the various Red Cross job functions.  No, what had me appalled is what transpired next.  You see, all of their group wouldn’t fit on the bus, so I was allowed to board while they waited for a bus of their own.  So, I had to gather up a very large and heavy suitcase, a duffle bag, a rolling back pack and my purse, struggle past the crowd (which didn’t move one inch out of my way), pull all the luggage up the steps of the bus, only to find people standing in front of the luggage rack instead of sitting in various empty seats.  Despite my efforts of ”excuse me, excuse me, just need to stow this luggage and I’ll be out of your way,” no one moved or even blinked.  So, I drug it over to the side as best I could and literally sat on it until we got to our destination.  Upon arrival, you guessed it, I was forcibly shoved from the bus by the other passengers.  No help even from the driver.  And the worse part was that out of 20 firefighters, not one offered to help me with even the smallest of my bags.  I couldn’t believe it.  All I could think was my Daddy would be so ashamed!  If he had been there he would have given those guys a good talkin’ to.  (And yes, I was wishing I had packed lighter, but when you deploy with the Red Cross you expect to be gone for 3 weeks and you never know if you will get even one day off or have laundry facilities available.)

Well, the treatment continued the whole trip.  Now, the Red Cross people I worked with were wonderful.  That is pretty much a given wherever you go.  But to everyone else, I say you should be ashamed of yourselves.  Imagine your mother, daughter, sister or wife being treated like that.  Imagine it and make sure you never act that way.  If each of us make a resolution to be just a little bit nicer to those we pass each day, we will make this world better for everyone. 

That’s my rant for today.  I think I’ll go get some counseling now.  Or a drink.  Or both. 

Some friends have suggested I start blogging on WordPress so I decided to give it a try.  So prepare for ramblings, musings, jokes and my philosophy on life.

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