Breakfast With Olivia Newton John

At least that’s what I thought when I looked across from my eggs the other morning and saw my four year old as you see her. Was she singing “Let’s Get Physical?”, no, but at least I got your attention.
Are you a bad listener? I hate to bruise your ego, but probably! Hopefully you aren't a terrible reader. Think about it, how often are you formulating your next sentence in your head? And when you do hear someone, are you really listening? I mean, do you really understand what the person is conveying? Probably not, if for no other reason than the English language is riddled with ambiguities, and we tend not to say exactly what we mean. Maybe we are all good listeners but terrible speakers. Well, anyone who knows me knows I like to talk. I was talking to a friend I hadn't seen in a while the other day, and she misheard something I said during our conversation, and she ran with it. There was no stopping her. I tried. But apparently she has been training in hyperbaric chambers for competitive breath-holding. I mulled it over quietly in my mind; the conundrum that I must appear like a moron to her, for her to have misunderstood me in such a way, and that to try to backtrack ten minutes into the conversation would make me look well, more moronic. All the while she carried on and I nodded sympathetically, inserting the proper remarks "of course", "sure" and then, what was she saying? What was I saying? So my goal is to be a better listener this month. You can be a better listener too. Start by practicing with me here. First, have someone nearby read this quote to you:

"Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” Shel Silverstein

Next, go to some outing, make a new friend, and try really hard not to obsess over what you should say next.
For those of you wondering what happened last month with Harry Potter, it was well after 5 pm on the night of the premier and my husband was waving frantically at me to get the kids out of our bedroom as he rapidly turned the pages of Deathly Hollows. He was at Harry's dream of King's Cross Station with Dumbledore. We left for the movie around 9pm (it was a midnight showing). He finished the whole series, though he may have missed a few salient points here or there (How many horcruxes were there? Just kidding). He was determined not to be reading Deathly Hollows in the theatre though we did have two hours to kill. The definition of true love: your spouse takes you to see a movie, and the only other adults present in the theatre are chaperoning teenagers and preteens. I immediately confessed to the boy taking my ticket that "Yes, I am a grown woman going to see the premier of Harry Potter". He laughed, hard enough to confirm my embarrassment was warranted. Then I explained that the disinterested white dude ten feet behind me staring at a poster for Cowboys v. Aliens was in fact my husband who I "forced" to join me. Well, I was the only one in the theatre with the brains to bring an Ipad and watch Harry Potter Deathly Hollows Part 1 in my lap while waiting for Part 2 to start. Who's laughing now! The good news is that my husband no longer teases me about Harry Potter, but morosely complains about the lack of screenplay loyalty to the books whenever the topic comes up. So, I suppose I have had a victory in my little experiment.
Lastly, I want to remind you all that September marks the fall equinox, the beginning of my favorite season. I love this time of year so much, we even named my third daughter Autumn (no, my first two aren't named Summer and Winter, Smarty Pants). The first cool air, the crunch of dried leaves underfoot, the first frost on the window pane, football season, cocoa and more. It's all around the corner, and a reminder that nothing ends. God's promises are new every morning, just listen for them.