... and it ain't Lucky Charms.
Is this not the cutest Leprechaun stamp you've ever seen?! I spied him on Addicted to Rubber Stamps a while back and added him to my Wish List. DH loves when I make Wish Lists so he doesn't have to worry about what to get me for various gift-giving occasions. I love that he loves Wish Lists because he doesn't really care to sift through and decide which among the items to purchase; he usually puts everything in the cart and buys it all. Yay for Wish Lists! (Online retailers, take note. Add a Wish List feature to your site!)
Anyway, this jiggy dude is by Inky Antics, and I had the pleasure of meeting the creator of Inky Antics, Jackie Lewis, at CHA.
(Aside: Aren't you just so sick and tired of me talking about all the amazing people I met at CHA? I know I would be if I were you. I hope it helps that I have total consciousness of how 'la-di-da' it sounds -- I really am NOT trying to sound that way! It's just that the whole thing was so germane to stamping, and thus I tend to write about it while I'm blogging. I'm sure I'll run out of things to say about it in a few days. So please, bear with me while I try to walk this fine line between being informative and pretentious.)
Anyway, Jackie was very cool and personable, and walked me through all of the new stuff that Inky Antics is coming out with for spring and summer. Lots of new stuff by illustrator Ronnie Walters -- I MUST get this one -- including a whole line with a funny little chef. She has the funniest sentiments, too. There's also a line of cool stamps with shoes and such, but I can't remember the details or find it on the website. I'll do some more research, though, and get back to you because you really need to check it out. I'm always looking out for you, but that's just me. I'm a giver; I give!
Supplies used -- Stamps: Leprechaun by Inky Antics, beer mugs from My Tailgate or Yours set by Gina K. Designs, oval by A Muse, sentiment from Michael's $1 bin; Paper: More Mustard, Garden Green, Georgia Pacific White, patterned paper by Making Memories; Ink: Brilliance Archival Graphite Black, Basic Black, More Mustard; Accessories: Copic Sketch Markers, green Liquid Applique, Ribbon, blingy shamrock from Stampers, Ink, Dimensionals.
Okay, usually I'm pretty light-hearted while blogging. After all, no one blurfs to be brought down or depressed. But I observed something yesterday that has been on my mind ever since. I don't really know what else to do with it, so I thought I'd offer it up here.
Yesterday I browsing in Hobby Lobby. (Note to Terri, owner of my LSS: I did not buy any paper products or things I could have purchased at Simply Scrapbooks, I swear! : ) ) I rounded the corner into the framing section and a service dog (black lab) wearing a vest that said "Don't Pet Me -- I'm Working" caught my eye. On the other end of his/her leash was a young woman who was obviously visually impaired. She, too, was wearing a vest but hers indicated she was a store employee.
I couldn't help but overhear the conversation she was having with a male employee who was stocking some shelves due to the fact that her voice was quite loud. I never stopped walking, but as I made my way to the needlecraft section, I heard him saying,
"Well, this a gossip pit, so that's not a very good idea."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"People around here talk a lot and are into everybody else's business."
"Oh. Well, I was just thinking that maybe we could hang out and talk."
Her voice wasn't well modulated and kind of quivery but loud at the same time, so I imagine she's probably had a lot of speech therapy. It was very clear that she was asking this guy out, in the middle of the store, where tons of other employees were gathered. He was embarrassed and had his head down, and while he wasn't being cruel to her, he was trying to blow her off but she wasn't picking up the social cues. I walked by an older female employee who made kind of a "What are ya gonna do?" grimace/smile, then I went to the aisle with the embroidery floss. There were two guy clerks crouched there, snickering and watching what was happening, like they couldn't wait to get their buddy alone after this and give him a hard time.
They continued their conversation as I walked out of earshot and went to look at the ribbon that was 1/2 off (didn't find anything I didn't have or couldn't live without), but then all of a sudden, I felt completely overwhelmed with sadness.
Nothing that had happened in that little scene I observed was too terribly unusual. It was an awkward situation to be sure, but no one was being intentionally hurtful. Sure, those guys who were laughing were being immature, but they were more interested in gigging their friend than hurting the girl's feelings, and she wasn't aware that she was indirectly the object of ridicule. I hope she thought she was having a friendly, private conversation even though in reality it was anything but.
As many of you know, my three year old son and the sunshine of my life, Carter, has Cerebral Palsy. He's still so young that it's impossible to know the extent to which he will be impaired by this condition, both physically and cognitively. So I know that I'm much more sensitive to the above sorts of scenes than I used to be. It takes a lot of courage for any of us to open ourselves up to another, to ask someone out, to risk rejection; can you imagine how much more it takes for someone with a disability to do that? Truly, our society sends the disabled the message that they are less worthy than so-called 'normal' people at every turn. I would imagine at some point, unless you've got a fantastic sense of self, you would start to internalize that message. And then I thought about what a big deal it probably was to both her and her parents that she actually had that job, how long they must have struggled and hoped that one day she would be independent enough to actually hold down a job and find a place that would hire her. A job that most of us would sum up as 'crummy' is very likely a huge accomplishment for her and her family.
Anyway, witnessing that brought to light so many of the fears that I've tried to suppress. Everyone I know is so kind and considerate to Carter now, but he's little and sweet and so cute. He won't always be, and the thought of him being on the raw end of that scenario breaks my heart and petrifies me. I know all of us face rejection and humiliation at sometime or another, but life has already dealt the disabled such a difficult hand, can't they be spared some of the garden-variety emotional crap we all encounter? Maybe I'm projecting, but it seems like even that is worse for them, too.
Then again, she seemed pretty oblivious to the undercurrents I seized upon. I so hope she was, and that from her perspective she had a pleasant conversation with a co-worker. Maybe it's me with the issues. I know I definitely need to work on not borrowing from the future trouble that hopefully will never come to pass. All of us worry about our kids, after all, and we can worry ourselves sick envisioning all of the awful stuff that could happen. But I can get a little carried away when it comes to Carter, and I need to work through that.
Anyway, like I said, I don't really know what's in this for you by reading this. Maybe it's food for thought, or perhaps you'll flash on it when you're talking to your kids some time and you can use it to build a little empathy for those with special needs. I do feel a little better having gotten it out of my system, but oy. I'm spent. Is 1:00 p.m. to early for a glass of wine? It's got to be 5:00 somewhere...
