Day 21: All Tom, All the Time. (ATATT - Special Edition)

Disclaimer:  Today’s post will not be witty, deep, or compelling.  You all know that Lara is a beautiful, intelligent, and inspiring woman.  And although I am none of those things, I do get to be married to her and that’s a totally awesome thing to be able to say.  Yeah – this is a cameo.  It’s Tom and this here is a “guest post”.

So I’m not good at this.  If you know me you know I’m a man of few words, and sadly even fewer thoughts.  But I’m still going to give this my best shot.  Lara had a hard day today – nothing catastrophic, but one of those days where, you know… everything just takes longer that it was supposed to, the Salvation Army didn’t have the right shade of blue pants to make a homemade Super Mario costume, there was a lot of driving kids around, and all you want to do is not write about it.  So I’m taking over.  Just for today, though, so don’t start writing in.

I could count this gesture of “guest posting” as my act of kindness, but since I didn't even know that Lara would need this sweet relief (of which I’ve so gallantly offered), my dad and I had already chipped in with our own #AdamsActs today.  We pretty much saved the world.  We gave away 2 cups of hot chocolate that we got for free and didn’t even want and also threw away 1 plastic grocery bag.

Here’s how it all when down.  My dad and I have been trying to spend more time with each other.  This past year, along with this month, have been potent reminders that you just don’t know, well anything.  I’m not talking about my aforementioned lack of original thoughts.  I’m talking about how we don’t know what our circumstances will be tomorrow.  We don’t know if we’ll be healthy, if we’ll be safe, or if we’ll suddenly be forced to miss someone we love because they’re gone.

So my dad and I have decided to hang out more, eat together, and talk about how life is going.  Today, he stopped by MCC (where I work) for lunch.  We put both generations of our wisdom together and chose a community college’s version of “Philly-style pizza”.  Picture a regular piece of cheese pizza lovingly sprinkled with shreds of Steak-Umm.  Then, and this is what gives it the authentic Philly feel – there’s a Kraft single melted on top to pull it all together.  We felt like we were on South Street.  Then, because I was with my dad we had to chase our heartburn with coffee.  We sat back down at our table with our coffee, when the woman working at the stand yelled, “Your 2 hot chocolates are ready!”  We stopped talking.  “She’s looking right at me.”, he said to me in a low voice, barely moving his lips.  We both froze - like in Jurassic Park when Dr. Ian Malcolm’s only chance of not being eaten by the T-Rex is to remain absolutely motionless.  “Hey, you in the green sweatshirt!  Come get your hot chocolates!” I will say that if he had been on the island of Jurassic Park, his green sweatshirt might have blended in with the large tropical ferns and we would have been spared from the T-Rex barista.  But nope.  We told her we didn’t order them, but she wasn’t having it.  We were taking them.  At this point all of the surrounding tables were watching our little scenario play out and enjoying the show.  So, we decided to give away the hot chocolates as an act of kindness.  We were rejected by the first table.  So, that felt great.  However, another student overheard our offer and said he’d take them.  We handed over the hot chocolate, then told them to smile for the picture.  We explained nothing.  My dad just said, “Smile”, took the picture, then said “Acts of Kindness!” in a really cheerful voice.  It was great.  We considered going back and explaining what just happened, but ultimately resolved to go ahead and keep it awkward forever.

The second act of kindness we bestowed upon the students of MCC was to pick up a plastic grocery bag and throw it out.  This opportunity presented itself after this kid, sitting within arm’s reach of the trash can, reached out and tried to throw it in.  The dude didn’t even ball it up first.  What?  You know how far you can throw an un-balled-up plastic bag?  I’ll tell you.  Approximately 1 inch.  So after the young man’s 1 inch toss didn’t do the job, he watched it slowly float and land beside the trash can.  Then, he just left it there.  Here’s my dad gettin’ the job done.

 

Lara always finishes her posts with an amazing one-liner.  I have to tell you that I’ve been staring at the screen for at least 12 minutes trying to come up with one, but it’s not going to happen.  So, I’m out.

*drops mic

Day 19: Random Acts Of Poor Circulation

My big brother, Adam, was known for making people feel special, like they mattered.  When someone felt small, or invisible, he would take the time to get to know them, have a conversation, reach out. He was the kind of kid who would take the time to walk a mile in someone else's shoes.  And part of honoring his memory and trying to share his legacy with others, would be doing just that.

But, I must warn you... if you are going to walk a mile in another man's shoes, you might wanna steer clear of the guy from Day 19.

Yes, it's true, walking a mile in his proverbial shoes would not be fun.  He was clearly homeless, pushing all his belongings in a shopping cart, and he was not properly dressed for the cold, rainy evening.  So, yes, walking a mile in his life, would be hard, if not miserable. But, I mean, literally, you don't want to get assigned to walking in his actual shoes.  I know you would be very uncomfortable walking in his shoes.  I know this, because I bought them. And they are accidentally, a size 6. 

Sooo... if I had to pick one of the most horrifyingly sad sights, it would be someone on a cold, wet city street with bare feet. I am always cold, and I quit when it's cold, and I hate being cold and being cold hurts my feelings. So when I see someone with their poor, cold grubbies just hanging out in the elements, it physically pains me.  For Day 19, I wanted to buy a decent pair of men's boots that were used (read affordable) but still in very good shape, would be warm and also waterproof.

I went to the thrift shop and found only one good pair of boots.  The whole bottom foot part was rubber and one full piece,  so there was no place for cracks to form or for water/snow to leak in.  I picked them up and looked at the bottom and saw they were a size 9. (Wait for it...)

When I got home and showed Tom the boots, he remarked that they looked really small, and I agreed that 9 is on the smaller size for most men's shoes, but that they were the only good pair, and they weren't that cheap, even at a thrift store... so, we would just have to find a guy with not-huge feet.

Then, I packed up some dinner to share with someone, including homemade white chicken chili, jalapeno cornbread,  fruit and some chocolate. (The chocolate was London's  demand  suggestion.)

We loaded all the kids in the car and set off to find someone who met the following criteria:

1) Must be homeless.

2) Feet must be smaller than average.

3) Feet must be exposed to the elements.

Well, if you found this criteria to be quite specific, you won't believe how narrow our pool of recipients became when I looked at the inside tag and saw that they accidentally printed the size 9 upside down.

 

NO they didn't. That's a 6.  I bought a pair of doll shoes for a homeless man. 

Operation Shoe the Shoeless, Criteria 2.0:

1) Must be homeless.

2) Must be the petite-est man alive.

3) Must be willing/able to curl his tiny feet up and stuff them into these child-size boots. 

And now I had to find the match to that absurd new criteria, in a city full of people who, apparently, are always committed to wearing shoes because I couldn't find anyone with their toes just out and about. And I certainly didn't see any grown men walking atop dainty, feminine feet which had been bound since birth to prevent normal growth.  

I did find a reeeeeally short fella who did not have good shoes, and figured this would be the closest possible match. I approached, introduced myself and said "I happen to have a decent pair of warm, winter boots, but they are quite small, like a men's size 6... you wouldn't happen to want or need those would you?"

His response?  "Oh yeah, sure, that's just my size!"

No. No, sir, it's not.

Still, he heartily accepted the minuscule boots, which I am certain are going to be ill-fitting, and thanked me multiple times as if I had given him, I don't know, something saaaay... useful and adult-sized. It was kind of a fail moment for me, but he seemed to truly believe that these boots would fit him, and I hope they do.  I hope that when he sat down at night, and slipped his delicate little toddler feet into Polly Pocket's boots, that it was a Cinderella moment. No jamming or tugging or forceful shoving, no step-sisters screeching "Then I'll make it fit!" Instead, just a quiet, magical moment where the he and the grand duke exchange a knowing glance as his foot slips effortlessly into the tiniest boots ever made. And when that moment takes place, I hope he feels loved, and I hope he feels like he matters.  I hope, for that moment, he does not feel invisible. And even though his feet are just a precious baby whisper at the bottom of each leg, I hope that feeling seen meant he did not feel small.  

These are the boot

Day 18: Mustache Madness

Day 18 was a date nigt.

This does not happen super often. We have an awesome community of people who love us and are willing to help with babysitting, but the reality is that we need to save our willing friends and family for things like parent-teacher conferences, or mandatory meetings that we both have to attend, or  emotional problems emergencies that aren't my fault. The other reality is that we have chosen to just blow right past the average/reasonable family size and make it impossible to do things like "swap kids with friends so we can take turns going on dates."  

A) Nobody wants to swap their two kids for our five. 

or

B) The people who wouldn't feel like they are getting the raw end of the deal, are people who think being a family of seven is normal, and I don't trust those crazies.

So, a date night is kind of a big deal.  We decided to incorporate our #AdamsActs into our date.  A couple next to us overheard us order a really good dessert, and the guy joked that we would have to let them know how it was. Well, sir, it was very good.  Like, so good, that one might get excited and hit said guy in the arm to tell him how good it was. How embarrassing for one, should one love dessert enough to forget about appropriate social boundaries, like not hitting, or, like not touching strangers during their date, or, like not touching strangers ever.  Once  my  Tom's dessert haze lifted, we decided that we should order that same dessert and have it sent to that couple's table. In part to be kind, and in part to make him forget  that  I struck him  about the stresses of everyday life.

So, we had dessert ordered and paid for and we left a note for them to enjoy the dessert and to follow along for the month if they'd like. I also wanted to leave a "Sensational Mustache Message" for our waiter, who had clearly taken the sweet, sweet time necessary to have waxed his mustache tips, and put them in curlers before his shift. Tom felt that doling out mustache awards would not be deemed an acceptable act of kindness, but this comes from that guy down there, who sat down to dinner with a bald face and grew that amount of facial hair before our drinks had even arrived.  He grows a full - lumberjack edition - beard overnight... so he can't really appreciate how hard it is for some  less Italian  men to grow such a fine, curly moustachio. 

Day 16/17: Beauties and the Sweets

My favorite #AdamsActs are the ones where people have big reactions to small kindnesses.  Day 16 was definitely one of those days.

We handed out candy bars with little notes on them.  Once again, I had plans for how it would all go down.  And in keeping with the theme of my whole life, nothing went as I anticipated.

I envisioned bringing treats to a bunch of guys working road construction, and it would make them feel appreciated, and loved and encouraged, and then they would finish the roads faster.  For those of you who live anywhere besides upstate NY, you may not understand.  But, Rochester has two seasons... Winter/Dry Nasal Cavities - 9 months out of the year.  Construction/Humidity/Mosquitos - the other 3 months.

It's basically paradise. 

So, you can imagine my surprise when I couldn't find a single road construction worker. I can't express the melancholy I experienced when I realized that my clever construction-oriented pun would likely go to waste.  

When we couldn't find a construction crew, we changed plans. By that I mean that I made the kids hand them out to strangers. 

Annalee (left) was okay with it, Marlie (right) was not so sure.  The first recipient was just getting off of work and seemed really happy with the unexpected gift, then totally zoned out and stared at me for a long time. We finally realized that we knew each other.  This woman had been my very first client in Rochester.  When I was first starting my little business, I met a hairstylist named Wendy who, for some reason, really believed in me. She bought a ton of my stuff, she encouraged me, she took me to different salons and shops to meet other small business owners who might be interested in carrying my products.  She introduced me to some really important connections, and that led to my first account at a local store, and also the confidence to keep going with my fake business!  I was able to thank her again, and tell my girls about how Wendy had shown me such kindness when I really needed it.  It was actually a cool, full-circle moment for me.  

The second recipient was a guy who seemed totally normal, until we gave him the candy bar.  He looked at us in a bit of shock, and said "Oh my goodness REALLY!?" then held out the candy bar in front of his own face and proceeded to hunch and sway with relief, the way someone would if they were on day 30 in the dessert and could finally see a watering hole up ahead. I guess that guy really needed a Hershey bar. It got, even Marlie, pumped up for the next giveaway. 

Fortunately, most of the messages applied to anyone working.  We decided to go through the Tim Horton's drive through, not order anything, and just give the candy bars to whoever was taking orders.  I forgot that they take your order first, and then you drive up to the window... so we just blew past the voice on the intercom and pulled up as close to the car in front of us and waited our turn.  I did not want to try to explain to the person over the speaker that we didn't want something "to go" but that we had something "to stay" because they would have thought it was a bomb. 

When we got to the window, I explained briefly what we were doing and why, and told her that she deserved a little something and could pass one along to whoever was working hard too.  She said "Ohhh, you're making me feel so special!" I asked if she wanted her picture taken for the blog and she held this adorable pose for a ridiculously long time because I couldn't get my camera to open.  She was a good sport, I was sweating profusely, but we got the picture and I think it made her night. It definitely made mine.

Now... what to do with that very specific rhyme "You deserve a treat, for fixing our street!" when you cannot actually locate someone who is currently fixing the street???  We considered giving it to a police officer since they, too, fix up our streets, in their own way.  But, similar to the construction workers, the police apparently leave the streets of Rochester to their own devices at night.  So, we found a manhole under repair and threw a candy bar on one of those huge, orange barrels  that I one time hit with my car on accident. 

I'm sure a raccoon found it ten minutes later and was really blessed.

For Day 17, I put to use that small business I mentioned earlier. Basically I upcycle fabric/jewelry/buttons/andwhateverchotchkyicanfind and make unique accessories.  I mostly do headbands, bridal headpieces, and a lot of costuming for dance/theatre productions.  I absolutely love doing it, and it pays huge money.  Okay, that is a lie, but I do love doing it!  

I decided to gift some of my creations.  I put together a variety of styles (sort of like these) for my friend Nancy and her two little girls. 

We were having dinner there, and I brought a bunch of headbands for her to choose from.  Nancy's five year old was apparently very excited and enjoyed going through the different styles, and the baby could care less because she is only 4 months old.  But, she looked adorable... as you can see here:

My last #AdamsActs for Day 17 was to finish up a Halloween piece for my step-mom, Jean. Her Frozen-themed costume was, admittedly, a little understated.

Really Grandma Neen, that's the best ya got?

So, we needed to jazz it up... I decided that she needed something epic. I almost made her a tutu, but, thought better of it and decided on this instead...

That should snazz up a t-shirt, no?

So there you have Day 17.  Every little girl needs to feel beautiful with hairbows, and while it may not seem like an act of kindness to make one's step-mother a huge ice queen tiara, I swear it was by her request and was made with nothing but love and kindness in mind.  

Day 15: A Cornucopia of Kindness

We are about half way y'all.

I can't believe it!  If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then you have two choices

a) catch up on Day 1 and all the days thereafter, and catch the kindness!

or

 b)  a plague on both your houses.
 b) hate kindness.
 b) be the worst.

Okay, maybe you only have the one option.

Great, now that all the rookies have been properly  threatened  encouraged, let us take a look at some of the #AdamsActs we've seen so far this month. Thought we could all use some fresh ideas!

Deliver a pumpkin bread to a neighbor like Colin - also, start looking this awesome in your glasses.

Leave candy and messages on windshields like my adorable nieces and nephews.


Provide poop bags and doggie refreshments for deadbeat pet owners in your neighborhood!

Provide gift cards to eat chocolate for ladies during that  unstable  special time of the month!

Get your kids to part with some toys, and donate them!

Bring snacks to work, and  humiliate  bless your co-workers by documenting it.

Leave notes of encouragement in places where moms need them most (playgrounds, public changing tables, the pediatrician's office, etc.) *I had to provide my own photo for this because my sister Kristin and her friend did this, but didn't post it publicly... (I got the loud mouth in the family, she got the looks.  What can ya do?) But I imagined it looked something like this...
Except that there is a nice note pinned to that kid's khakis.

Mend something special that got torn.

Paint a rock of reminder.

Bring toys to a shelter.

Treat someone to a train ride.

Donate sick days for someone who needs them (terminal illness, maternity leave, emergency)

Use a penny to ride a mechanical pony, leave a penny for another child to ride, like my niece!





So many great ideas!  My #AdamsActs for Day 15 was buying a snickers for the checkout lady at the grocery store... and sharing all these great ideas with you!

Happy kindnessing!  

Unless you opted for the plague.

Day 14: Geriatric vs. Gentleman's Club

So, yesterday was rough wasn't it guys? Can you believe how all of us had that mental breakdown?

Oh wait, was that just me??

Well, we are due for some jokes about old people are we not?  I am totally kidding, but not really because this is going to get playfully offensive.

For Day 14, I spent the day with some friends (named Erica and Erika respectively) and we made homemade applesauce to share with others. The Eric/kas and I peeled, chopped and simmered until we had enough cinnamony mush to feed any and all people who have outlived their teeth.

We had grand plans of delivering the applesauce, still warm, to a nursing home where we would have the children hand out homemade cards and people would spring up, miraculously, out of their wheelchairs and would twirl and celebrate like school children.

So many things that I just wrote did not happen. Including all of it. Well, the applesauce was warm at one point, but other than that... none of our plans came together. It's probably all for the best because can you imagine how disgusting it would be to see people twirling in those loose, flowing gowns with the back just open and flapping in the breeze?  Just not seeing anyone's ancient buns makes me consider Day 14 a moderate success.

Still, we had a lot of applesauce on hand. and we were not going to let this cutie's hard work peeling apples go to waste!



So, Erika got in touch with a woman in the neighborhood who has lived in Rochester since colonial times. This woman, Marian, is 91 years old, lives alone and is blind. I don't know what a P.C. term for "shut-in" is, but she's a (insert less offensive term.)

Or so we thought...

We brought our children (twelve of them between the three of us) to meet the first woman God ever created.  And let me tell you, ain't nothing shut in about Miss Marian. This old whippersnapper gave the children quite the  inappropriate  education.  I knew it was gonna get crazy when she opened with the fact that ladies are more likely to get urinary tract infections than men.  This tidbit was followed by the history of shootings in the area, as well as the rise and fall of a "night club" which she suspected was a "front for some other operation."  When Marian and her outraged squad of neighborhood watchwomen tried to crack the case, the "good looking black man" who owned the  Gentleman's  night club assured them that the only thing that people were doing behind the smoke and mirrors was exercise.  Well sir, you can't push that kinda crap past Miss Marian, no matter how fine she thinks you are. Marian and the gang had him run outta town quicker than you can say "they used to leave the urine samples in the milk drop box."

No, seriously, she actually said all of this. In front of the children.

So, as you can see, lives have been changed.  Our children will never be the same.

I dedicate this post to Tom, because I will probably end up being an old, inappropriate whippersnapper myself someday. I'm already feeling bad about your future.
Happy Almost Anniversary...

Day 13: All Things New

For Day 13, I did a potpourri of kindnesses. I bought some donuts for friends and their kids, and also for Tom, but  I ate his before I even pulled out of the parking lot  it got stale and it wouldn't have been safe for him to eat. Or find out about until he reads this. 

 #RandomActsOfGluttonyAndSelfishness

In less embarrassing news, I also left dollar bills in the little free libraries that have been popping up around Rochester.  If you haven't seen them, then this would be an awesome #AdamsActs to do!  They are basically a teeny tiny micro-library on a pole.  Think dollhouse-library-lollipop set up in people's yards or at parks or playgrounds. 

 It's such a cool way for people to borrow books or even take a book to keep, and also to donate books that they are done with or have an extra copy of. We love it.  It was a simple and small thing, but I love that it is the opposite of the regular library, where you go to check out a free book and have to pay a fine because  I  Tom checks out too many books  50 to be exact  and  I  he forgets to return them.  He lets stuff like that slide all the time  I tolerate it because I'm in it for the cheese platters.  So this #AdamsActs was fun... get a free book, but also a free dollar! Which is much better than getting no dollars, and a significant improvement on paying dollars.

A few close friends and family members have expressed concern for me in the past two weeks.  The people who know me best have noticed that this year the 31 Days of Kindness (#AdamsActs) seems to be harder for me than the past two years.  There is truth to that, and I wasn't really sure why that was, until today.

I'm going to tell you the truth.

The truth is that I want to do right by you guys.  Each day I want to have a grandiose act of kindness that inspires you all who are participating, and I want it to matter, and I want to share stories about who Adam was, and I want people to understand that his life was worth remembering and honoring.

Doing this for the third year in a row has taken its toll on me, and not for all of the obvious reasons: being busy with five little ones, running my own little business from home, having a limited budget to work with, trying to have the energy to be so emotionally vulnerable, and so publicly, etc. Sure, those things can be challenging.  But, that is not why this year has been so much harder.  Today I realized that I am struggling, because I have used up my Adam stories. You see, I don't have any fresh stories, because I don't get any fresh stories.  Because he is gone.  It makes me so immeasurably sad to write this down, that I will never, ever get new memories with Adam.

And the pressure of trying to share him with you all, when there was so little time with him to begin with, has felt overwhelming to me.

So. I am all done.

No, I'm certainly not done with #AdamsActs.  I will never stop trying to impact this world in meaningful ways as Adam would have, had he been given that opportunity.  I will never stop trying to keep his memory alive.  I will never shut up about this Jesus, who became my leader and my forgiver, because of a conversation I had with Adam in a maroon Pontiac 6000 when I was just a little girl.  I will never forget how my faith in that God got really real, really fast when those concepts, heaven and eternity, were no longer some "off in the distance" kind of notion... but was my 17 year old brother's new reality.

So no.  I am not done with all this. But (and I have to say this only for my own sake), I am all done with the pressure I am putting on myself for each day to be something new.  A man with a gun robbed my family of the luxury of new. What I have of my brother are the old, (and the cherished) memories.  There are few of them, and they are sacred and precious and I will share them because I think his life mattered, and it was too short, and as with any valuable and limited resource... we have to preserve it, and pool it together to see it's true beauty.

So, that's that. I am going to repeat myself guys.  Forever and ever Amen.  And I am going to be fine with that, because I don't want death to win.  I want his life to win, and in order for that to happen, I am gonna have to get repetitive up in here.  If I don't get new memories with Adam, then I am going to make memories that he would be proud of.  If my husband and children can't know him, then they will know his legacy.  If I cannot call him up and invite him over for dinner, then I will share my dinner someone who doesn't have one.  If I cannot see his face, or remember his voice, or watch him run just one more time... then I will spend my Octobers, and hopefully all the months of all my years here being a friendly face, using my voice to speak the truth in love, and I will run until I cross the finish line and finally get to meet my brother and my Jesus, and they will welcome me to a place where, in fact, I will get my new.  

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. And he who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new.'" Revelation 21:4-5

Day 12: Cleaning the Clean

My brother could walk up stairs on his hands.

I am not even kidding.  The wrestlers had to practice walking on their hands  because wrestlers love pain for no reason  for balance, coordination, and upper body strength.  Adam had to take that challenge a step further.  Or a flight of steps to be more exact. 

I once remember him going to painstaking lengths to write as well with his left hand as he could with his right.  He would show me his full name written out on a piece of paper, one on top of the other.

Adam H. Provencal

Adam H. Provencal

"Guess which one was written with my left hand, and guess which was with my left" he'd say.  If I guessed correctly, he would be back at it, for who knows how much time.  And if he stumped me, he would be smugly satisfied with himself, and still continue to practice until there was no discrepancy between the two.

He was just like that.  He wanted to walk up and down stairs on his hands, and be ambidextrous, and make the world's largest wad of gum on his nightstand and pull apart an alarm clock just to see if he could put it back together and make it work using even less parts than the manufacturer.  

I really like to believe that Adam and I are actually quite similar.  I have been told most of my life that Adam and I have similar personalities and that we looked a lot alike.  He was such a phenomenal wrestler (taking 2nd in the state of Michigan his junior year) that his nickname was "Pinner."  We were just alike enough that I was then dubbed "Lil' Pinner."

But these things I just described, this is where he and I part ways.  I can't imagine committing myself to such futile pursuits.  I'm just enough of a quitter that after attempt 1,001 I would have quit, set all my pencils on fire and bought myself some dumb t-shirt that said something like "I'm right handed, and if you have a problem with it, I can still punch you with my left."  I just wouldn't do what he did, because I don't have in me, what he had. It breaks my heart when I think of what his tenacity would have changed in this world.  If his life had been lived out, what would he have solved? Or improved? Or created?  

He didn't have that opportunity.  But I do.  So, even though I don't have that grit and determination and drive that he applied to every miniscule detail of his life... I have learned that I have it when it comes to stuff that really counts.  Like, I haven't quit being a mom.  Or a wife.  I know that sounds like the barest possible, minimum standard... but, to me, those two roles are the hardest of my life, and the most important.  And when it gets really hard, I throw the legs up over my head, and I walk up and down the steep stairs of my life and I do. not. give. up.  

For Day 12, we chose to honor a woman who hasn't given up.  Tom's grandmother, or Nana as my kids call her, has had a really hard year.  She lost her husband, who she was with since she was 16 years old, to pancreatic cancer.  The two of them were adorably inseparable and they lived together and served each other and raised their three kids for close to 150 years or something unheard of.  

So, when we lost Papa, she truly lost her other half.  

In his absence, she has kept living.  She has been brave and strong and she has continued to love others and serve others without him.  But, her windows and yard have been a little neglected.  So, like the Italians they are, we cooked up an insane amount of food and pushed past the food coma to get some work done for Nana.

We washed windows...

We raked leaves... (by hand apparently)

(Ps that is my mother-in-law if you can believe that.)

We vacuumed the porch?

 (Yes, you read that right.  When I say that things have been a little "neglected" I mean that Nana must think we live in squalor because I have never in my life washed such clean windows... their home and yard is immaculate, but whatever, when the lady wants the clean windows scrubbed and the porch vacuumed, you just do it without asking questions.)

So it was a total success.  These two made a huge impact by spending all afternoon ripping that one strip of blue tape off the edge of the porch. 

The kids were a huge help.

 

And since I am so pleasant, absolutely nobody irritated me one single time.



Oh, unless you count that time I hit my Father-in-Law with my mop. For irritating me.(No, he's not an actual homeless person. Yes, he does steal tattered jackets from the homeless.) See? He deserved a whack.

So there you have it. Day 12. We didn't achieve anything great like, say... tricking someone into thinking we were left-handed, but I think we did our #AdamsActs for a great mom and a faithful wife, and when it really mattered, she stuck it out. 

For Papa, with love.

Day 11: Saturday Salon and Tom Still Wins.

#AdamsActs is all about transformation.  Choosing to do 31 Days of Kindness during a month when I would, historically, do 31 Days of Crying and Inexplicable Mood Swings, shows transformation.  I wanted to transform my expression of grief from one that sucked the life out of me, to one that was beautiful and life-giving, and also a blessing to others.  

Day 11 was also about transformation.  Not a deep and spiritual one, but hopefully one that made people feel beautiful and blessed.  For Day 11, I opened my home for free transformation via haircut.  I asked haircuttees to either participate in #AdamsActs for the day, or to make a donation ($5 maximum) which would be used in future #AdamsActs this month. (I may or may not have accepted one payment of homemade jam, because I am shameless and I love homemade jams, and I don't homemake jams, and it benefitted no one but me, and shut up about the jams and just accept me.)

I did a total of 9 haircuts.  Which, I will be honest, felt like a lot of haircuts. One of Tom's #AdamsActs for the day was putting coffee and fixin's out for the haircuttees...

I knew the day-o-cuts was getting a little long when I went to dip my comb in the cup of hot water and instead dipped it straight into my coffee.  But, it went well and everyone seemed satisfied!  Here are a few of the before and after pics from the day.

The lovely Miranda Before

After her trim and side bangs (believe it or not, I cut a couple inches off!)

The beautiful Becca Before and After we did a trim, added layers and discovered some gorgeous waves in that hair!

The adorable Madden, top left corner was Before when the last lady left a little mudflap on top... And the other two are After I cleaned it up a bit and deflapped him.

Miss Aliyah, top two are before and bottom two are the midway point after getting rid of a ton of length and reshaping...

And After the cut and final deep conditioning. 

Sweet Kailah Before...

And After trimming/reshaping those amazing curls, and a little braiding in front. 

And the fabulous Erica After...

You may have noticed that I forgot to take a before picture, so I found the closest likeness off her Facebook page. It has not been tampered with in any way. 

Erica Before I got my hands on her. 

So, as you can see, the day of free haircuts was a day of true transformation.  Tom, once again, showed me up right when I thought I had out-kinded him for the day.  I finally sat down at 6:30, realizing I hadn't eaten anything all day   except comb-stirred coffee and a piece of Finnish chocolate and he presented me with this.

Really Tom?  A platter of fine cheeses? The only thing missing was the homemade jam. 

Oh wait, what's this?  Homemade jam and a decorative spreader with little muffins on the handle?

Tom, you considerate s.o.b.

Days 9 & 10: Sandwiches, Sobbing and Sleepovers

I'm not gonna lie, Day 9 and 10 make me feel like a bit of a slacker...

A beautiful new friend of mine treated me to lunch and the privilege of knowing her story.  Telling your story is really scary.  It's weird how giving those sacred pieces of yourself to someone can make you feel so vulnerable and exposed, but also somehow really free.  It is a gift to share your story with someone, and it is equally a gift to have someone take the time to hear your story.  To be heard and known is one of the great human desires, I believe. So, in that way, I think Day 9 was a total success.  We mutually, slid our sacred bits of story offerings across the table to each other. Then we cried. Then we stuffed our feelings with enormous messy sandwiches.  And also bread pudding.

Then I dropped some clothing and toy donations off at the V.O.A. for her because not only is she sweet and fearless and beautiful  and can eat a sandwich like a boss  but she is tough enough to run until her legs break. Okay, technically it is just the one leg, and I am pretty sure it is the ankle... but it is a true story that her ankle was not broken, and then she ran it broken.  So, she can't drive.  So, I delivered her #AdamsActs for her.  This inspired me to go through some of our toys and clothes and donate  stuff they outgrew one hundred years ago  a respectable, non-embarrassing amount of stuff as well.

For Day 10, I bought some candy bars from my step-goddaughter (long story), named Macey.



I mean, what kind of step-godmother would I be if I didn't buy my favorite candy in support of her musical theatre class? As tempting as it was to just eat all the Reese's by myself, I decided to give a couple away to the hardworking employees of Panera.  The vacuuming guy gave a nice smile and seemed to appreciate it, and the smoothie maker was a little busy to care, but I am pretty sure that tonight, she will cry herself to sleep due to her overwhelming gratitude.  Or she'll just eat the candy.  




I was at Panera because I meet with some of my favorite people once a month for a book club.  Which brings me to my husband's act of kindness.  It's hard with that one, because he just starts out so much kinder than me, that my feeble attempts pale in comparison.  For example, I didn't just go to book club and hand out candy... I abandoned Tom to man a 9-child sleepover all by his lonesome.

7 little girls and my two sons, all ten and under.  Alone.  In the words of my friend Courtney, "he is practically a prophet."  I think she meant saint, but let's be honest... manning a sleepover of 9 kids must be a requirement for both sainthood and prophetdom.

If it weren't super obvious that he was selfishly overseeing the sleepover for the age old slumber-party-overseer glory, I'd give him that last Reese's.  But... he's gotta learn. 

Day 8: (Rarely) Take Candy From Strangers

I cannot believe that we are already a couple of days into week two!  The first week was awesome... so many of you showed huge kindness through little things, big things, and in-between things.  If you have no idea what I am talking about, I am going to make it really easy for you to get all caught up:

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Days Five & Six
Day 7

Okay?  Now that you are caught up, inspired, and really impressed with the fact that my head officially fits into a toddlers swim cap... we can move on to Day 8.

For Day 8, I was blessed with handmade slippers by my talented friend Siobhan, and the anonymous carbohydrate fairy left us an industrial size cookie cake on our porch first thing in the morning.  I realize these aren't my acts of kindness... but I will tell you how they will bless others.  Slippers cover my feet, which are not adorable, so the discretion they offer is a kindness to anyone around me during slipper weather.  The cookie cake was large enough to feed one battalion of people who eat a lot, so it got shared like nobody's business.

For my act of kindness, I wanted to surprise a stranger and make them feel really special.  I bought a Thinking of You balloon and a tiny box of chocolates.  I saw the cutest little girl in the world and asked her parents permission to allow their child to take candy from strangers just this once.  They gave me the green light and I gave the little girl her gifts and a little speech.  I told her that when I saw her I could tell that she was really special, so she just had to have a prize.  I told her that she was smart and beautiful and that as special as she is now, that she will keep getting more and more special as she grows up, and that I just know she is going to do something really important when she's big.  She had little tears in her eyes when I first walked up, and her little lip was curled over just the smallest bit when I was giving my "I Believe You Can Fly" graduation speech.  She was precious. And when I got in the car, I inexplicably started crying. Maybe I wish I could go back to my childhood self and give me a balloon and inspire little me with that sweet, sweet R&B space jam.

So that was mine. But, this is a family thing so the best #AdamsActs didn't come from me. It came from my 5th grade daughter. As a mom, nothing could make me more proud.  Especially because, as well-behaved and remarkable as I believe my children to be, there has been a small history of questionable choices along the way... 

Like that time London wanted to  blind the baby with metal spikes  give head massages.

Or their choices in home decor...

Or how they peep at the neigbor's...

Or that one time when the chapstick looked a little like a weenie...

Or when the "handcuff" drawing looked a little like a weenie...

Or the way they carry their  no longer  clean laundry to their room...

Or when they breath in each other's faces...

Or when they wear this hat like that...

Or when they smuggle silver dollars to school to buy ice cream  on the black market. 

Or when they are showing earwax in someones face...

You get the point... earwax has been shown, eyes have been poked, socks have been scandalously stuffed in the nether regions.  So when I got a note from one of Annalee's former teachers on Day 8, I was very thrilled.  

It read:

Hi Lara!  In the spirit of AdamsActs, I have to tell you about Annalee.  She has been tutoring one of my students whose academic skills are that of a kindergartner. I put him with Annalee in the morning to review skills in simple addition and subtraction. She has made him feel valued as a student, and had allowed him to be a third grader with dignity. She is sensitive to his needs, and is helping him grow as a learner every day. She is remarkable, and the most sensitive and caring little girl I know.  He told me that he could "minus" today (subtract) because of her (Annalee). I don't know whether to beam with pride that I know her, or cry on behalf of the kindness. I think I may do both. :) Katie

#JustLikeHerUncleAdam

Day 7: Tardy and Ridiculous Ice Bucket Challenge

So... I know that we missed the height of the ice bucket challenge mania, but ALS still exists and we still wanted to help fight such a horrible disease.  We haven't personally known anyone taken by ALS, but we watched our friends, David and Sue Whiting, lose their close friend, Patrick, and it was heartbreaking. If you want to be inspired, challenged, laugh and then do the ugly cry, watch Patrick give the last sermon of his life.

I know that there was a lot of debate over whether or not the ice bucket challenge videos were the best way to raise awareness and money for ALS research. And I know there was also some outrage over the waste of clean water.  

So, my response to nay-sayers would be A) it's the best we've done so far, so let's do what works until there is a better plan.  You can't usually bank on people just caring, so it's okay to use humor or personal testimonies to inspire people to give.  That is the whole point behind #AdamsActs and I'm fine with it. And B) really? People toss one bucket of water for a good cause and it's gotta be a thing?  Let's focus on the long shower crisis (that my husband is personally responsible for) or *gasp* the water balloon toss epidemic sweeping children's birthday parties across the nation.  It's not that I don't take seriously the lack of clean water in many countries... but I don't think that crisis is caused (or prevented) by deciding whether or not to frivolously toss a bucketful of water.  Plus, our church has raised a significant amount of money to provide clean water to the village of Maramara in Chad.  Sooooo, just enjoy the video and donate to help find a cure for people with ALS, like Patrick, and write a check to World Concern to turn that criticism into clean water!

Day 7, our #icebucketchallenge

This first intro video is absurd and a little irreverent only because I was uninformed at the time (about what foundation to donate to, about our past presidents actual names (there is no Jr.), and also about the size of my head and how bendable my ears are.)

This video includes Harper challenging our neighbor (the one who just had back surgery and played dead on Day 6.)  Also, you have to lay on your side halfway through to see it properly.  (*please do not miss this opportunity to witness the baby aircycling at record breaking speeds.)

Donation made in memory of my big brother, Adam, who wasted a shameful amount of water during countless super soaker fights. Inside our house. 

Days 5 & 6: Narcoleptic Neighbors and Train Rides All Around

I forgot to mention that on weekends, I sometimes won't blog. #walkofshame

I assure you, though, that I am still doing #AdamsActs each day, and am continually blown away by all the ideas people are coming up with!  It is particularly challenging to blog over the weekends because all the kids are home and it is  mass chaos  our treasured family time.

Our friends from Finland are still here visiting, so among our intentional acts of kindness, I will include hosting a foreign family of four and showing them the American way of life.  Staying with a family of seven probably isn't giving them an accurate picture of normal American life, not to mention the fact that I haven't done anything normal since 1988.  Still, we have opened our home to them and I do think that counts as a kindness even though it is much more a blessing to us than it could possibly be to them.

For Day 5, we wanted to give Minna and Osmo and their kids an idea of what life looks like in a large Italian family, and we wanted to spread the love to our neighbor who recently had back surgery.  So, we went to my in-laws where Tom and my father-in-law taught the kids how to make fresh, homemade pasta, and we then delivered some to my neighbor.  The kids  ate so much raw flour  were so helpful and really interested in learning the art of cooking authentic Italian cuisine.

The delivery of the pasta was a little anti-climactic because my neighbor played dead when I knocked on the door.  No, I don't mean he just ignored the doorbell... I mean I saw him through the window as I walked up, and when I knocked, he fell asleep.  Over the years we have had such a range of reactions from our acts of kindness.... some people get irate, like we are trying to take something from them, rather than give.  Some people feel guilty and want to reciprocate instantly, and many people simply refuse the kindness.  I have never had anyone just fake sleep through my attempt to be kind however.  It was a refreshing change.

The next day, he did bring over some fresh produce and thanked us though, so fortunately we know he was playing dead, and wasn't, like, actual dead.   

For Day 6, we took the Finns to the Strong Museum of Play, and I treated several kids to free train rides.  This was underwhelming, but received, which was an improvement from the year that parents refused to accept the carousel rides my kids were offering to pay for with their own, hard-earned, precious baby money!  So, all in all Day 5 & 6 was pretty smooth!

I will blog again tonight with today's #AdamsActs, and promise that I will not fall off the wagon for more than a day or so over the weekends.  In the meantime, I thank you all so much for the things you have been doing to serve and love others.  One week ago, the hashtag #AdamsActs didn't even exist.  Now, it is trending.  Just kidding, I don't even know what trending means.  But, now the hashtag does exist, and if you click on it... it is unbelievable to see how many posts and pictures there are.  

It is a good reminder of how God has already equipped us to do His work... we don't need to "be" better or "arrive" to some place in life in order to be used by Him.  We just have to start where we are and do something.  It can be so small, but with the right heart behind it, it can have huge implications.  So keep up the kind work!  

Day 4: The World's Breast Chicken Wings

#AdamsActs are getting wild.  We've got kindnesses happening in Kenya and the Netherlands.  Waitresses in Cambodia are getting thank you notes.  People are giving away absurd tips at restaurants, paying for lunches and coffees, delivering treats to strangers and friends in need.  It's amazing.  To date, I think I'm technically the only one to deliver an eggplant, but still.... I think it's safe to say that this is officially a movement!  An international one, no less!! 

International is actually a pretty good theme for Day 4 since we spent the day in another country (Canada) with actual world travelers.

After fifteen years, I reunited with one of my dearest friends from high school. Minna was an exchange student from Finland and we hit it off almost as soon as we met. It was the first time I really understood that sarcasm is a universal language.  

We have kept in touch, but have not seen each other since the summer after we graduated.  Between us, we now have two husbands, seven children, endless reserves of patience and wisdom, yet neither of us have aged a single bit.  It's remarkable really. 

So for Day 4, we treated our beautiful Finnish friends to all that Upstate New York has to offer.  Basically: overpriced parking, Buffallo wings, and horrifying weather. 

My oldest four at Niagara Falls (Harper, Annalee, Marlie and little London Claire.)

A horrible picture of Jay, just to prove that he was also there. (As the youngest in a large family, I know he will shame me for not including him, so here ya go future Jay... here is a picture of the one time you were eating something besides your own hearing aids.)

My beautiful Minna after all these years and her sweet girl!

At the Anchor Bar in Buffalo, NY - home of the original Buffalo Chicken Wings.  And before you judge, Harper was not trying to kiss the bosom of a statue, that's just as far as his mouth could reach. 

Okay, now you can judge, because this looks pretty bosom-specific. 

#inappropriateactsofkindness and an internationally good time were had by all.