What I Would Say? Should I Say? [RANT]

Lately, my mind is filled with words I would say. My brain chases these words up and down its halls, wanting to free them. I keep them to myself for fear of inadvertently insulting someone or being misunderstand. So I thought I would post them here. I hope they offer some nugget of hope or clarity. Maybe the person who inspired each of these thoughts will actually get a chance to read them and be uplifted.

For those I love who no longer see themselves when they look in the mirror:

I love you. I know you look in a mirror and see your imperfections, but I see the person I love. You may have aged since we first met, but I see your youth, vibrance, and inner beauty. I don't care if your hair is out of place or your makeup is smeared. I just want to spend time with you. I gather people have the same feelings about my house, despite the transients who apparently live in my living room and love board books.

Please don't try to keep me away when I say I want to see you. Accept my request to visit for what it is and let me see the person I see. Maybe, you'll be able to see that beautiful soul too.

For the good husbands/wives of my friends:

Even though we have never met, I adore you. When your spouse speaks of you, it is with great respect and love. You help raise their children as if they truly were your own flesh and blood. The effect you have on my friend, bringing hope and inspiration, encouraging them to be better every day,  and standing by them even in the most difficult circumstances, makes me so glad you found each other.

Furthermore, when I see other people insulting or attacking you, I want to leap to your defense. Don't let them make you question what your marriage brings to the world. Dump those "friends". Find more friends who see the incredible person I see. Spend time with people who are inspired by your strong marriage and obvious love, respect, and affection for each other. To me, you are part of the good in the world.

For people who think I am ignoring them:

I'm not ignoring you. Life sometimes sends me running to keep up with what I absolutely must do. If my daughter needs me in the middle of my bustling, I stop. She doesn't understand that mommy needs to teach a class, wash the dishes, fold the laundry, or run to the bathroom. I assume adults have the emotional maturity to understand that sometimes I can't stop to chat. Try setting up a "play date" with me instead of trying to stop me when I am racing to the church class that I teach, trying to grab the week's groceries between my daughter's feedings, or weaving through the throng to find my seat and prepare for sacrament meeting.

For the parent who thinks they are failing at parenting:

Are you giving your child love? Do you provide them food, clothing, and shelter? Do they smile when they see you and reach out to you? Do they call for you when bad dreams or hunger disrupt their day? Are you offering support (moral, physical, financial) to your parenting partner?
If you are caring for your child's basic needs, you are a good parent. If you are making sacrifices for your child, you are a great parent.

Remember to take care of yourself while you are caring for your little ones. They need you here for them much more than they need you to buy them expensive toys and Disney vacations. Be kind to yourself. Don't put yourself down or let yourself belief that your all isn't enough. If you didn't love your babies, you wouldn't care or feel guilty for "not doing enough". Just keep being the best parent you can be and don't compare yourself to anyone else.

To my readers:

I hope you are enjoying these tidbits from my mind. Like most people, I appreciate a little feedback and this blog has a comment section for that reason. Which types of posts do you like best? What will bring you back time after time to see what words have flowed from week to week?

Commence Clowning [FICTION]

My reflection gazes back at me nervously from the glass. I force a wide grin and trace my lips with red grease paint, accentuating pulling the corners up my smile toward my ears. As I finish, I flash another toothy grin. Then my eyes wander across the rest of my features. Beads of sweat dot my pale forehead. I blot them away and generously apply white grease paint. I move downward, gently tracing around my rouged smile. When I finish, my own face disappears, replaced by Daisy, the sweet clown with the bright orange, Gerber daisy encircling her left eye.

“You’re ready for this,” I pause for emphasis, “Valedictorian.”

I gently push the red foam circle of my chosen profession over my nose. The year 2016 sprawls across its surface in thin, glittery script. I step out of my private dressing room.

A tiny red car, the child of a Smart car and a Volkswagen Beetle, greets me. I plop down behind the oversized steering wheel, squeezing my humongous shoes into place to push on the gas pedal. As I lean forward, I bump the horn. A blast of excited beeps, wails, and whistles erupts around me. Fueled by the clamor, I drive wildly toward the center ring where our graduating class awaits my wise words.

I release a lever and shoot out of the top of the car, landing on a trampoline covered in pillows. When I finally manage to gain control of my bouncing, I bounce to the edge of the trampoline and jump gracefully to the ground. I step behind the neon green podium, kicking away more than a few errant banana peels.

Dozens of ghostly faces gaze back at me. Most wear exaggerated smiles, some weep cheerfully, while a few in the back freeze the blood in my veins. Someday, they might channel their clown genius toward a more attainable goal like heavy metal music, inspiring horror writers, and keeping little kids on the straight and narrow path.

“Sorry, I couldn’t slip in sooner,” I begin with a pointed look at another slimy banana peel that sails through the air to land on the podium, “But I didn’t reach the top of the class by falling prey to substandard pranks.

“Top of the class. Top of the totem pole. Driver of the tiniest car in existence. This is what I aspired for. This what I attained.”

A chorus of honks echoes across the assembled crowd.

“Thank you for that. I know we all learned the same jokes, slipped on the same banana peels, and covered our faces with the same grease paint, but the future holds more than that for each of us. You may not be valedictorian, but you are something better…”

A silent hush falls as smiling faces focus on me, anticipating the promise I am about to offer.

“You are the hope of tomorrow. You are the reason children will laugh through their tears or cry in their beds. You are the smiling faces that keep the bulls from goring unwanted riders and sell circus peanuts though they aren’t real nuts like us.

“You are the next generation of clowns. When children mourn their lost chance to see elephants on parade, you will cheer them up. When tiny cars need dozens of passengers, you will fill them. When tiny pools beg to be dived into from hundreds of feet up, you will take that dive…”

I pause, clasping my hands together and stretching my body as if I am about to make that fabulous leap.

“And the world will laugh with you. Go forth and bring hysterics to the world.”

Exaggerated laughter fills the air. Foam noses fill the air. Water sprays from dozens of brightly colored flowers. I step back from the podium.

“Ack.” I squeal as I slide backwards to land on my backside to an even louder, unfeigned round of laughter.

I owed someone some fiction and I had some writing prompts begging for attention. I hope you enjoy.