Moving Forward, While Looking Back

Last weekend I was able to attend my sister's Commitment Ceremony in Utah. Due to expenses and preserving our sanity, my husband and I decided I would go solo on the trip. While I was sad to not have my children and husband with me, taking that trip by myself was such a great experience for me.

First things first; flying without kids is like going to a spa... compared to flying with kids. I felt 50 pounds lighter walking around the airport and boarding the plane. I love my children and they are typically well behaved on flights, but even the most well behaved child on a plane is enough to drain several watts of energy out of any parent. Airplanes were not designed for children. There is absolutely nothing "kid-friendly" about airplanes or the whole process of boarding and deplaning. I didn't realize how true that is until I found out the joys of flying without kids. I suppose the best part was not feeling the constant hateful glare of the passengers that are mad at you for attempting to even bring a child on a plane... you know, those people who think a parent can and should actually control a child fully immersed in temper tantrum mode. Those people are funny. Ha.

After deplaning my spa in the sky, picking up my bag (yes, that's one bag... ahhhh), and meeting my sister, I felt refreshed by the crisp, dry desert air. It was good to be back. I miss my family all year, so being in Utah is a chance to ease my soul of that burden (it's a little dramatic, but fitting). Driving around Salt Lake City, I am reminded of how beautiful the mountains are, how clean the city is and how fast it all changes. New buildings and roads appear, seemingly, from out of nowhere. I am always surprised to realize that life goes on, even when you're not witnessing it.

While my schedule was packed with pre-ceremony events and several errands, I enjoyed my "out-of-normal-life" experience, and had an easy sort of feeling all weekend. I was able to reconnect with family, several friends (some I hadn't seen in many years) and a part of the country that holds many wonderful memories for me. I think I've been gone long enough to forget the ugly times... it's all good now.

I also met a lot of really wonderful people that I feel blessed to now count among my friends... and family. That's what's so great about a marriage, it brings so many people together.

At the end of the trip, I happened to be driving by myself through very familiar terrain. As I looked around and thought about what this place now means to me, I was struck by the idea that you can never come back to where you once were. You can never be the same person you were in the past. You can never recreate something you've lost by time.

This is good for me to understand. I love Utah and my family and friends. I have wonderful memories and every time I visit I feel reconnected to something special, something I miss - but I need to miss that something special. I need a place that is untouched by day-to-day reality. Though I can't exactly put into words why I feel this way, I simply know that the place that gives my soul a charge when I visit, would drain my soul of precious energy if I existed there.

I am beginning to understand an important truth; too much of a good thing, is simply too much.

Happy Wednesday to L

In just a few days it will be L's birthday. She can hardly think of anything but her birthday. She is also quite mad (mostly at me) that she has to go to sleep so many times before her day arrives. Not only is L obsessing about her birthday, but she is insisting that everyone around her obsess about her birthday.

Last Sunday she asked her Dad why he hadn't told her "Happy Birthday" yet. The answer that it was not yet her birthday did not satisfy and she went on being offended. The next day at the grocery store, L caught the attention of a random stranger and said, "Today is my birthday!" Of course, the random stranger gave her a warm and enthusiastic, "Happy Birthday!" I discreetly reminded L that her birthday wasn't until Friday (assuming that the poor little thing is so excited she can't keep the days straight). L giggled and said, "I know, I just wanted to hear her say happy birthday to me!"

The cake is also obsessed over; what will it look like, when will I buy it, how will I take it in the car without it tipping over and getting ruined, what will it taste like, when will she eat it, who gets to share it with her, etc... Any moment not spent thinking about cake is spent thinking about presents. L has had a running list for the last couple of months. She is impressively specific about what she wants; a barbie doll with earrings that doesn't smell like sun tan lotion, earrings for herself (clip-ons because she hasn't asked for pierced ears yet -phew!), Troy and Gabriella dolls, Polly Pockets, princess dolls and many other items I have since forgotten.

I have to stop myself from warning her against getting too excited - I just don't want her to wake up the day after, look around at her toys and feel a little let down that it's all over. It's the anticipation of the fun and exciting that makes the mundane a little less so. I suppose that lesson can wait until she's a little older. Besides, these days if it isn't "Happy Birthday," L just isn't listening.

Say "Cheese!"

It's that most special time of year... okay, second most special time of year - back to school time! Q started 2nd grade last week. So far we've only had a couple of homework meltdowns (one of them was my meltdown), one tantrum over which shirt he was allowed to wear and one occurrence of racing to get there for pick up on time. So far, so good.

PICTURE DAY IS COMING... so says the form I received yesterday. There are several "Plans" to choose from. Ranging in price, each "Plan" offers several different sizes of the ugliest pictures a child will get taken throughout their childhood. I think my children are about as cute as they come, but Q's school pictures in previous years have made him look... weird. When I look at any child's school picture, if it looks even kind of good (like their hair is actually combed into place and both eyes are fully open and focused) I think, "What a great school picture! They sure got lucky this year!"

The worst part is the ridiculous backdrop. Q's kindergarten picture had shooting lasers as a backdrop. Is a child's appearance typically enhanced by the look of shooting lasers? I realize I'm treading on sacred ground here. School pictures are a tradition that just about everybody in the United States holds near and dear to their hearts. This is my dilemma. I don't like school pictures.

I know I sound bitter. That's probably because I am bitter. It kills me to have to pay any amount of money for some super cheesy photo that makes my child look less cute than he actually is. I am perfectly capable of taking bad photos of my child, so why can't we just feel satisfied with our free, bad pictures?

So I think, maybe I'll just get the class photo instead. Then, I see into the future. Q's friend wants to swap wallet size pictures and he has to hang his head in shame and admit to not having any wallet size photos to swap. Then I look like a bad Mom. Worse though, Q is scarred for life. Perhaps this is an exaggeration, but Q is my oldest and I haven't had enough experience to prove that he won't become a criminal or big jerk because of my mistakes.

I will buy the school pictures. I will grit my teeth and do whatever ridiculous task I believe necessary to keep Q from becoming a social outcast. Hopefully, he will be kind to me in my old age for this sacrifice.

Lessons From a Bug

We've had some kind of virus vexing our household lately - apparently, something is going around. It's "just a cold" but it has affected each of us a little differently. So far, I've only had mild symptoms but this virus has had a significant impact on me. I have learned a couple of valuable lessons because of this "just a cold" that I think I've needed to learn for some time.

The first lesson is that I really take my health, and my family's health for granted. The other night I read my kids a book called "The Boy of Steel". It's about a little boy with cancer who gets to be Bat Boy for a day at Yankee Stadium. As I read, I kept having to hold back the tears. There would be a long pause, and my kids would look up at me and say, "What is it?" I realized that my kids didn't understand why the book held such emotion because they have never experienced serious illness, either in their own lives or with someone close to them. Perhaps we won't always be so lucky, but the healthy years we've had (and hope to have in the future) are worth, I'm sure, more than I realize. A nasty virus may make us feel miserable and complicate our lives temporarily, but it's such an insignificant blip on the radar screen of health.

The second is that I'm not a very good listener sometimes. I do generally listen and could probably regurgitate whatever was said verbatim, but my emotion and energy is not always directed at better understanding the person whom is speaking to me. For instance, my husband is telling me about his cold symptoms and I'm "listening" attentively, but as he speaks I am thinking back on the last time I had a cold and how terrible it was. He says he's congested, I think about how bad my congestion was. He says his chest hurts when he coughs, I think about how my chest probably hurt worse than his last time I had a bad cold. Or maybe it didn't, but who cares because my chest hurt. Everything he tells me, I instantly relate to my experience and then say, "Gosh, that's really too bad. I know how you feel." I don't think it's wrong to use my own experiences to relate to his experience, but maybe instead of dwelling on how I felt I could focus on his feelings. Then, perhaps, I would be compelled to focus on his needs and how to better help him.

I also have realized that being a good listener should probably include some probing questions. If my husband tells me his chest hurts, perhaps I should ask how badly it hurts, or maybe find out what else hurts. I could follow up with some ideas to help him feel better. Of course the main thing, is to really mean it.

The last few days I have really tried to be a better listener. Old habits die hard, so I can't say I've been 100% successful in my efforts - but the few times I've been able to really focus on what the other person is telling me and dig a little deeper, I've realized how good it feels to care about other people. Care about them enough to want to truly understand them better.

Not only does it feel good to care about what other people are telling me, it distracts me from my own issues. I can take a break from worrying about how my hair looks, whether I am sounding smart or how many McDonald's cookies I've eaten too many of lately. Sometimes, it's nice to not be so caught up in my own crap... I can be caught up in someone else's crap instead.

Busted Toe

I have this friend - I'll call her 'A'. A grew up in Chicago, then moved around a bit, and we met here in New Jersey a few years ago. A has now moved to the west coast, but she is still very much with me. Each and every time I use the word "busted" I think of A. She introduced me to this truly satisfying term. Not that I had never heard the word "busted" before, but I had never used it properly.

When you say the word "busted" you have to really push it out. Use your gut - commit. It has to bust right out of your mouth (which reminds me that these rules also apply for proper usage of "bust" as well). It helps if you use the right accent. I call it Midwest - it's a stereo typical Chicago accent - like "oh, geeez". My friend, A has a voice I could listen to all day. Her accent is the best!

"Busted" of course replaces the word 'broken', or can be used when 'caught in the act'. "Bust" as in 'to burst' is usually used with 'out'. The first time I remember hearing A use "bust", she said her son wanted to "bust out" of his car seat. That is when I caught 'Bust Fever'. I wanted to find any opportunity to use the 'B' word. Whenever I drove on a bumpy road, I said the road was "busted up". When my pants felt a little tight, I was going to "bust out" of them. If my kids were jumping on the bed, they had better stop before they fall and "bust" their head open. If the cable was out, it was "busted".

Last night, I stubbed my toe pretty hard (the one next to my pinkie toe). Now my toe is busted. I regret the pain and swelling I am experiencing. I'm hobbling around, trying to keep it elevated, icing every couple of hours. It's a total pain in the foot (ha, ha). My only solace is that I have a really good reason to use my favorite word.

My friend A has been wonderful to me. She gave me my favorite cookbook, used to drop by just to say 'Hi' - very few people do that anymore, and tells me why she thinks I'm a great person. A is the kind of friend we should all aspire to be. I love her for that. I love her even more for giving me my favorite word... busted.

A Hop, Skip and a Jump Down Memory Lane

A few weeks ago, R made this great tree swing in the back yard. Every child who visits our house has to try it out (per Q and L's insistence). This swing is a source of great joy - and sometimes major frustration when someone feels gipped out of their proper turn. It has also caused a mother or two (not me) serious anxiety. This swing has made a mark on our lives this summer. It will be remembered fondly. It makes me think of my own childhood and those things that captured my heart at the time. Here are a few:

• The windmill in the back yard of our neighbor's house in Slidell, Louisiana - my life's first memory is of this tin windmill that seemed to tower so high
• The top of the staircase going up to the attic in the house my parents built in Louisiana - it was the only place I could pick my nose in peace
• The ditch behind our house in Billings, MT - not to be confused with the "Big Ditch" which was feared by all children due to the ceaseless reminders of "some kid" that drowned one summer, our ditch was small and held endless amazement... and loads Cattails
• The fire hydrant in the front yard of the Billings house - we would stand on top of it and strike crazy poses when cars drove past
• The race car video game at The Soda Fountain in Billings, MT - I can still hear that cheesy background music
• Any car my parents owned up until the age of about 10 seemed amazing and I would feel content just to sit in it... maybe roll the window up and down a little... open the glove box a few times... push some radio buttons... grab hold the steering wheel and do a little "Dukes of Hazard" drivin'
• The big pine trees in my Great-Grandparent's yard in Cowley, WY - they were big enough to allow a few of us to hang out under the boughs, so they became our "houses"... it worked great for playing house except that it was almost impossible to keep all those pine needles swept up off the "kitchen" floor
• Glades Drug Store in West Valley City, UT - my neighborhood friends and I would walk there and get a dollar's worth of Sour Patch Kids (that would mean 100 Sour Patch Kids for the walk home)

May I Have Your Order, Please?

I feel the need to admit a sad truth about myself. I have a terrible addiction. Though there are far worse addictions in life, I'm not sure that mine is the most benign in existence. I am constantly "jonesing" for McDonald's Diet Coke with an Oatmeal Raisin Cookie. Okay, okay, it's more like two cookies... sometimes three. I go through the drive-thru almost every day. On a bad day, I might go twice. This is a conflict for me on many levels. The first being that my kids are not only witnessing this, but typically participate in the habitual eating of cookies. It also bothers me that I am frequenting an establishment I don't approve of - except that I obviously do... I don't want to though.

I'm sure people with addictions that are more lethal would roll their eyes at my feeling tortured over the cookies and Diet Coke. That doesn't stop me from feeling like my life is hurtling toward a dark abyss.

To be honest, I have always held one kind of addiction or another. Thinking backwards; I've recently overcome my Nibs with Peanut Butter M&M's addiction, before that it was Hershey Pies from Burger King, prior to frequenting BK I went for Turtles Chocolates and before that was a long Swedish Fish obsession. And of course, soda has been my constant companion through all these addictions. For many years now (except for a few exceptions) I have had something sweet as least once a day. Am I alone? Is it normal to constantly think about when and where you'll get your next "fix"?

It's a little bit silly, but a little bit not. I would like to think I have some sort of control over my impulses, but the question constantly troubles me; will I ever be able to stop myself from doing something I know is not good for me? Is it even a matter of self control? Maybe I'm genetically predetermined to have a sugar/artificial sweetener addiction. Ultimately it doesn't matter to me why I do it. I will always feel tortured by my addiction.

Perhaps it's not the sweets I'm addicted to... maybe it's the being tortured by it.

You Can't Always Count On this Blog Being There For You

These last few weeks have been filled with a lot of ups and downs. I was working (doing trunk shows for the jewelry co. I've been working for) a lot, so that always makes me feel a little disconnected from my "normal" life. R's work has been crazy for him lately and the kids have been crazy as usual. We've had some sick loved ones and a loved one that was waiting to hear if they were sick - part of the "ups" is that they are not sick... phew. For whatever reason, when life gets crazy, I tend to say to myself, "Why must there be so much uncertainty?"

The answer, I suppose, is that life is full of uncertainty. As long as we are alive on this earth, we will be faced with challenges and changes - some good, some not so good. One thing we can bet on is that we can't know what is to come. I'm sure that those commuters in Minneapolis had no idea what was in store for them as they crossed that bridge over the Mississippi River - a bridge they had probably crossed countless times before. We carry on through our lives crossing bridges and relying on the people and things that have been there for us. The reality of life is that those things we count on can fail without notice.

So how can we live, day to day, without fear of the unknown? I am no master of adaptability, but I do believe that we should be continually striving to become better at adjusting to change. An important element of adjusting to change is maintaining your core strength - your soul's character. Everything around us can change, but our core strength can drive us to happiness. Happiness does not just happen, we "get" happiness. We find happiness in the details of our day, in the times of each season, in the memories of life. Even as we face sadness or fear our hope for better times can bring us happiness.

Getting happiness could also be explained as minimizing pain. Pain is unavoidably part of life. It is an essential part of life because without it, we wouldn't remember our mistakes. Too much pain, however can change us into people we weren't meant to be. It can cause us to react to life's challenges in unhealthy and unproductive ways. Pain can become the norm, and we forget what true happiness feels like.

When we experience pain, we can use that opportunity to make a change. Change of tactic, change of pace, change of perspective or change of heart.

Of course, these are all great ideas (or so I'd like to think) but how practical are they? I'll let you know when I've figured out how to use them.

Reminders of Who I Want to Be

I had a very hectic day yesterday. As a result, I was feeling pretty frazzled by the time we went to pick R up from the train station. Later that evening, the whole family went for a bike ride/run in the park (L & Q in the jogger pushed by R, and D in his baby bike seat with me). It was great weather and the park was full of people - we even saw a couple of people we know. After arriving home and putting the kids to bed, I had such a feeling of peace. I little physical exertion and some time outdoors in beautiful weather makes the most amazing difference! The fact that we did it as a family made the stress of the day melt away for each of us. It was like an attitude adjustment for the whole house - worth all the hassle of getting everyone out the door! I have to remember this remedy for tension and nasty attitudes!



I find that my kids are really good at reminding me of what I should be doing. The other day Q asked me why I drink so much soda. He has heard plenty of times that it's not good for you, so it made little sense to him that I would drink so much of it! I told him that I basically have a really hard time not drinking so much soda, and that I'm too old for my Mom to tell me "no more soda". He seemed to pity my situation. Q then offered to help me drink less soda by reminding me to only drink half the cup, instead of the whole thing. And he has! Whenever he sees me drink a Diet Coke, he always says, "Oh, Mom - remember to only drink half!" His plan is working, I'm drinking half the soda I used to.



If Q reminds me of what is good for me, L reminds me of what I'm lacking - most often that would be patience. She is such a determined little person! Her favorite line from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" is when Violet Beauregarde's mother says, "Eyes on the prize, Violet. Eyes on the prize." L repeats it often and seems to really identify with the Violet character. I LOVE her for this! I love that she won't back down or take no for an answer. I don't love that she won't back down from me or take no for an answer from me. Therefore, much patience is required on my part - and the unfortunate coincidence is that half the soda usually means half the patience. If I am completely honest though, I think most of my frustration stems from envy - I wish I could be more like L. To have such passion and energy would be awesome.





So that leaves D. What does he remind me of? As cheesy as it sounds, he reminds me that the best noise in the world is the pitter-patter of little feet. D goes about his business with little concern for others opinions of him. Whether his shirt has breakfast smeared all over it, his hair is messy in the back, or he isn't wearing pants; he doesn't worry if other people notice. He doesn't need someone else's approval to go after what he wants, and he certainly doesn't care if someone finds his current pursuit to be trite or pointless. As I listen to the pitter-patter of D's feet, it reminds me that he goes about his day with a mind clear of self-doubt.



Perhaps, with a lot of training, I will someday be more like my kids.

Is This Thing On?

So, now that I have created a blog I guess I need to figure out what I can offer a potential blog reader. Who will even read this? Maybe that should be the first question. My purpose was to connect with family and friends - let them know about those random little things that you don't remember in conversation. So to those whom are willing to wade through the ramblings, there may be something here worth reading!

Summer is a weird time. Great, but weird. For the last couple of weeks, Q, L and D have been watching too much television. Yes, I am ashamed (but willing) to admit that my 20 month old son watches too much television. Why it seems so much worse for him than the older two, I don't know... but somehow it is. I LONG for summer all winter, than when it arrives I don't know what to do with it! There are so many options - beach, park, hiking, yard work, etc. - and maybe that's the problem. Can someone please tell me what to do. I wish they had day camp for Moms. Bring the kids and participate in structured activites. Actually, that doesn't sound good either.

I wonder if my kids will talk about how aimless my parenting was when they grow up. Will they say, "We like, never had regular meal times... and remember how much t.v. she let us watch? It's amazing we have any brain cells left!"

I guess the issue at the heart of it all is an inability to live in the moment. It seems I am often only thinking of what comes next, and forgetting to experience right now.

Speaking of right now, I should go turn off the television and make my kids experience right now, in real time... not t.v. time.