An Ode to Benadryl

This is one of my poems with which I am most pleased. The rhyming pattern was really difficult to work with, so it took a lot of effort. I wrote it a couple of years ago and I'm not sure why I'm posting it tonight of all nights.

Let me explain the strange subject matter: I often suffer from insomnia, so when I discovered that Benadryl can help with that, my nights were revolutionized.

Benadryl (aka diphenhydramine) is a very beautiful thing, thus I chose to celebrate it in the following manner:

An Ode to Benadryl
or
The Pursuit of a Minor Death of Consciousness



A serotonin dearth will drive
Me stumbling off to raid a hive
Of plastic placed above the sink.
Its swarm is silent, still and pink.

The dissolution of the dose
Prescribed could leave me comatose.
I’ll halve the ration prudently
To clinch my round trip ticketry.

The subway token vial yawns
Above my palm. A new night dawns
As to my hand, the beauties fall.
I pinch just one, but cherish all.

Beloved diphenhydramine!
You tiny, legal, potent bean!
Lethean drops solidified,
Safe opiates, freshly descried.

A slip of matter, barely sensed
Between my thumb and finger, tensed.
Though dryly dropped, it plumbs my throat.
I board the bus, embark the boat.

The pill is popped, the plea is prayed.
I’m biding now to be conveyed
To where one third of life is meant
To be in unawareness spent.

In faith, I sprawl out, prone again
As drowsing syrup dribbles in.
The thickened ooze coats my inside.
Thus slowly, starts the carpet ride.

With faculties in dull retreat
My smile is stupid and replete.
I hum a selfish lullaby.
The monkeys chatter as we fly.

An undulating, gentle sway
Grows stronger as my musings fray.
The thousand summoned servants lift
My litter high…I cross the rift.

A little practical advice if you're thinking this news about diphenhydramine is an answer to your sleep deprived prayers: The full dose (two pills) will likely knock you out for way longer than you want, so just take one pill or even half of one. Also, drink plenty of water with it since it's an antihistamine. (You don't want to wake up from your nice long sleep with a urinary tract infection, now do you?) Oh, one last thing, if you're one of those "I use TylenolPM to help me sleep" types, switch over to my stuff 'cause your stuff is nothing more than Tylenol with diphenhydramine added to it and a bottle of generic Benadryl is way cheaper than a measly 20 pack of TylenolPM.

This isn't a fail-safe method to get to sleep. When I was in Romania for nine days, I took the whole dose every night and I was still too keyed up to conk out. Still, for the most part, diphenhydramine is my very good friend.

Confession

Was anyone inspired by my pep talk post of yesterday?

Yeah, me neither.

It's Time...

Okay, everybody, it's time to throw out all of those leftover Christmas saboteurs...um, I mean goodies.

Go on...

Fling that fudge!



Toss that toffee!



Crumble those cookies!




Crush that candy!



(Uh oh, that sounds like a bunch of ice cream toppings, doesn't it?)

And no, eating it all today so that it's not around tomorrow does NOT count as getting rid of it. Trust me, it will still be there, just around your waist instead of on the kitchen counter.

Martha Stewart Would Shudder

Some people are very particular about the decorations on their Christmas tree.

Not me...in fact, I learned today that my standards are below those of my children. (Well, in some cases.) As we broke open the box o' baubles and such, Tobias suggested we nominate certain ornaments to be tossed in the trash instead of onto the tree.

My one request was that when an item was nominated, it needed to be done so carefully and kindly since many of the ornaments were hand-crafted by others who were presently in the room. (Yes, yes, I know it's impossible to kindly declare that someone's handiwork should be treated as refuse, but I was striving for civility, okay?)

One of the first decorations to go was this one, described by Tobias as looking like a confused clown who is using his drum as a receptacle for bodily waste instead of as a percussion instrument:

(Yes, in case you're wondering, Tobias does have eyeballs.)

There were some ornaments that were quite aesthetically challenged, but they somehow wormed their way into our hearts over the years and we couldn't bear to face a Christmas without them, regardless of their freakishness or hideousness.

Take this shrinky dink "Santa's elf" for example:


Tobias made a whole bunch of these little gems when he was six and handed them out as gifts to all of our relatives. Miraculously, everyone managed to squeeze out a "thank you" when they unwrapped them. There was nary a scream nor a snort of laughter, though I can't recall ever seeing one hang on a tree except for ours in the ensuing years. Hmm...I wonder why...maybe because they look as if they're possessed and about to go postal in Santa's workshop?


(See what I mean?)

(Emergency update!!! Vindication of the grandparents: My father-in-law read this post and let me know that Tobias's "demonized elf" has been hung with care on their tree every year since it's presentation. Sorry if you felt maligned, my dear in-laws. :( )

This year, just as a few decorations were voted out, some things were voted in. Notice I said "things", not "ornaments". These are some of the objects which are presently decking our evergreen boughs to the delight of our truly odd children:



(The last one's a skeleton's forearm.)

Whatever.

It all looks positively festive if you take a blurry photo from ten feet away:


Happy Jesus' birthday everyone!

Don't Be Jealous...

...of my very spiritual kids.

Picture this: It's early morning. My two precious children and I are sitting at the kitchen table. As they are nourishing their growing bodies with bowls of Honey Bunches of Oats, I am nourishing their tender souls with a verse from the Bible. (I've learned to keep it about three verses or fewer in order to stave off that glassy-eyed look which lets me know they're no longer "checked in". Hey, it's better short and sweet than long and ignored, right?)

On this particular morning, I read, "Whoever guards his mouth and tongue, keeps his soul from troubles." (Prov. 21:23)

Putting down the Bible, I ask, "Can you think of a time when you said something and shortly afterward wished you had just kept your mouth shut?"

"Oh, yeah," Delaney says, her eyes rolling for emphasis.

So pleased that my daughter could quickly identify the truth in the biblical passage and immediately see it's application in her own life, I smile and ask, "When was that, Delaney?"

What, dear readers, do you think her inspiring, uplifting response was?

Well, read on...

"Every time I ask Dad something about the Bible! I ask one little question and he goes on and on and on..."

Hmmm...not exactly what I was going for...

The Shunned Ground Beef and Other Questionable Good Deeds

I went to the bank yesterday. Just as I climbed out of my car, I noticed a homeless guy next to the bank's door.

He wasn't standing, looking as if he was about to walk away. He was sitting there, leaning up against a pillar looking about as comfortable as a person can when their back is pressed up against bumpy stucco.

Hoping I looked unstartled and natural, I walked toward the grocery store in the same lot although I originally had no plans of going there.

I've encountered this particular man before. He asked for money then. I bought him an ice cream instead.

Sitting outside of a bank is a pretty good idea if money is what you want. You know that people either have money when they're going in or they're going to when they come out.

Jeff and I decided long ago that we wouldn't hand out money to people who ask for it since we don't want to fund anyone's drug or drink addiction. However, we usually offer food to them since we hate the idea of a person's basic needs not being met.

We've bought a lot of hamburgers over the years.

Years ago, when I was in college, Jeff and I emerged from the grocery store to be accosted by a man who asked us for cash. He launched into a story about how his kids were hungry and he needed just enough money to buy some ground beef for their dinner.

It just so happened that the market was having a sale on ground beef that day and I had bought three individual packets of it. Reaching into one of my bags, I pulled one out and handed it to the man.

The look on his face was priceless. It was clear that he wouldn't be using the hungry kids/ground beef story again. I practically had to force it on him.

Amused, Jeff said, "You'd better get home and cook that up before it goes bad on you." (Hey, we don't normally laugh at those who are less fortunate than us, but when we catch them in their own lie, it's kind of hard not to.)

A few months ago, I was coming out of a grocery store that I don't usually shop at and I was approached by a young man who actually asked for food instead of money. I told him to meet me over at Jack in the Box on the corner and I'd get him something. He ran off to "tell his brother" and I continued toward my car with my bags of groceries.

Once I got to my car, another guy shuffled up to me and asked for some money. He was a lot older and scraggly looking. I told him that I'd buy him a burger and to meet me over at Jack in the Box. Then I quickly got into my car, wondering how many more people were eyeing me from around the parking lot.

(Here's where I must tell you that although I am genuinely glad to feed a hungry person, I'm quite intimidated by panhandlers. They're usually men and even though they may have missed a few meals and slept poorly the night before, they could probably still floor me with one blow. I really hate it when I take out my wallet to pay for their meal and they can see a couple of twenties peeking out. For all I know, they're just scoping me out so that they can grab my bag later. Therefore, I do try to be wise about 'helping' them and not compromise my own safety.)

So...as I drove my car over to JITB, I decided to just go through the drive-through and hand them their bags of food out of my car window. Once I ordered the food, I was told to pull around to the parking lot and that it'd be brought out to me when it was ready. From where I parked, I could see Old-Timer inside the restaurant, waiting for me to show up. He waited several minutes and then erupted out the front door, loudly complaining, '"That #$@&* said she was gonna buy me a burger!"

Just as he finished spewing that forth, he looked up and saw me, sitting there with my window down. His face fell.

I'd like to say that my response was, "It's on it's way, Sir" complete with a sweet smile, but...

...I'm not a liar.

What I actually said was something like, "I'm the #$@&* who said she'd buy you a burger and if you stick around, you just might get it."

(Yes, well, not one of my finer moments...)

I instantly regretted it.

Poor guy. He looked so embarrassed by his actions and my reaction.

I understand that he was grossly disappointed. He had been told he was getting some lunch that day and then after waiting several fruitless minutes, he assumed he'd been lied to and that his stomach would remain empty.

When the food finally came, he humbly thanked me several times. In the meantime, the original food-wanter showed up with his brother and burgers were had by all as I drove away cringing and repenting.

By far, the weirdest panhandling experience I had was at the dentist's office. Sitting in the waiting room while one of my kids was getting worked on, I noticed a girl, about 12, come in and sit down. She didn't check in at the desk and she wasn't with an adult, all of which struck me as odd. Well, it was about to get very strange, indeed.

After a couple of moments, she made her way over to the seat next to me and sat down. Looking at me, she began to whisper.

"What?" I asked.

She whispered again.

"If you want me to hear you, you'll have to speak up."

A third time she began to speak to me, still very quietly. "Will you give me some money so that I can go to Radio Shack and buy something?"

Who was this girl, why was she at the dentist office and where were her parents???

Totally confused, I said something like, "No, if you were hungry, I'd get you something to eat, but I'm not going to give you money."

Understanding dawned on her face. "Well...I am hungry."

Right...

Not wanting to make a liar out of myself, I walked with her over to Jack in the Box (yep, the very same one) and bought her (you guessed it!) a hamburger. She said she wanted a soda, too, but my motherly sensibilities kicked in and I told her she could have milk or OJ if she was thirsty.

Looking back, I see how poorly I handled that whole situation. I taught a neglected girl that if she goes begging for money at a dentist office, she'll end up getting a free meal. Who knows how many creeps would take advantage of her odd, needy behavior. Yuck. (I found out later that she lived in an apartment right next to the dental office.)

All of this takes me back to the guy out in front of the bank yesterday. He was gone once I returned from my impromptu shopping trip.

When I told Jeff about what had happened, he said, "Why didn't you just buy him a sandwich at the market and then when you went into the bank and he asked for money, you could have pulled it out and said, 'Here you go!'?"

Hmmm...somehow that didn't occur to me. My brain seems to flip over and play dead whenever I'm getting hit up for money.

All of this is to say what exactly?

I'm not sure. I'm just thinking about needy people and what my response to them should be. I want to be helpful, but I also don't want to give them opportunity to harm me or themselves. I want to be kind but sometimes I end up fouling my normally hygenic mouth. I want to care for an odd preteen girl and afterward I fear that I've taught her to be too trusting of strangers.

It all makes me so thankful for God's grace and it's sufficiency. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

If I was trying to make my way to heaven through my own goodness, I might end up at Jack in the Box.