Pain in the neck...

Most of the people in my life know that I have had issues with my back on and off for years... When I was twenty-two (and had insurance of my own for the first time), I spent time with a doctor who took extensive x-rays and basically informed me that I had scoliosis that had never been diagnosed, and that as a full-grown woman it could not be fixed, except with surgery.  Surgery was not a real practical choice... I am truly lucky to have a relatively mild case, and surgery is too radical of an option.  It is all about managing the situation (also known as learning to live with back pain).

Since my twenties, my chiropractor and I have become fast friends... he helped me learn about what aggravates my back, taught me exercises to keep everything working the way that it should, and got me through a pregnancy in which I gained forty pounds and put some real strain on my back.  He has been truly wonderful and I have fairly successfully learned how to live with the back that I have been given.

Having said all of the above... The doctor regularly chastises me for several things... traipsing around in three/four inch heels (which I don't even try to hide from him on the days I have appointments); spending too much time sitting at a desk (how else should I do my job?); and lastly... stress.  The whole conversation about "you have too much stress in your life" is not a favorite of mine.  It feels like having someone tell me what I already know but am powerless to do something about.  It becomes a frustrating discussion...

Just a couple of weeks ago I had a scary event happen in which I literally could not get out of my bed in the morning (keep in mind O sleeping peacefully down the hall)... I had to sort of roll and fall out of bed, and then eventually managed to get to my feet...  Pain was literally spasming across my shoulder and up into my head... I stumbled to the bathroom thinking a shower might help... only to almost pass out in the shower, not once, but then a second time after I got back out of the shower.  Now what?  The shock of the cold air on soaking wet me helped to get me down the stairs to my phone... I called my dad, and forty-minutes later he was at my back door to help with O and get me to the doctor.

Fast forward to the doctor's office...  As I sat in the doctor's office, miserable and in pain, the last thing I wanted to talk to him about was what I had going on in my life that could be causing the problem.  Of course I knew he would ask the question... but, still, I wanted to avoid it.  With his usual perfect timing, he said to me... "stress seems to be what sets this off when it happens...do you have too much on your plate?"

Too much on my plate... Quite honestly I feel like I have a dinner plate load on a teacup saucer right now.  What does this all mean?  How do you "clear your plate" to make room for the things that matter most?  Where do the things go that you clear off your plate?  Who takes care of those things?  And is this one of those "diet" situations in which you have to learn portion control in order to have the things you need/want most in your life without suffering the consequences of excess?

This is a bit of a wakeup call for me... I can't help but let my overactive imagination create scenarios in which O finds me passed out on the bathroom floor and is scared and uncertain about what to do.  The one certainty for me is that she is my first priority...everything else has to come after her.  So, I get it... the stress level has become too high.  I am working on figuring out how to better manage the stress and get my arms around what I really need to do myself and what I need to just let go of.  That is just so hard for me, but I realize that to stay strong and healthy and here for O, it is what I have to do.

Survivor Guilt...

In any natural disaster it is hard to look away when faced with news stories that show you the tragedy... the fear and sadness of those that survived.  I always wonder... if faced with a situation like that, how  do you live with being lucky to survive while someone else loses everything?  How do you put all of that behind you and move on... How do you accept that there is a plan for everything and everyone, and it does not always make any logical sense?  How do you leave behind your own guilt?

We live in uncertain times... a few weeks ago the company I work for downsized and people in a number of departments and regions lost their jobs.  Unlike a natural disaster, most of us could feel it coming... For quite some time there had been speculation and uncertainty about who, how, when... And even knowing it was likely... it still felt shocking and hard to believe when it actually happened.  Some of my very closest friends were involved...people I have worked with a long time, good friends of mine who are more to me than just fellow colleagues.  It still seems unreal to me...

Similar to a natural disaster, I am amazed at the strength and resilience in people.  I have spent time with a number of people impacted... they are such a lesson to me about positive thinking and self-confidence and faith in destiny.  While I have struggled with how to deal with an odd combination of remorse and relief, they are taking the event in stride and moving forward... they actually seem better for having made it through and then been forced to take a hard look at what their job means to them and what the next step on their path should be.  Sometimes being forced into a change gives you the opportunity to re-evaluate the journey that you have been on... The possibilities for what comes next are limitless.

I have learned another valuable lesson... I am thankful for the job that I have, the colleagues that I spend each and every day with.  But I also realize that the world is a big place and there are lots of great places to work...there really IS more beyond the walls of this one institution.  Opportunity is around every corner...

The "C" word...

Cancer.  Is there any other word that immediately causes a reaction for people?  Anger, frustration, fear, anxiety, sadness, loss... So many emotions caused by one small word.  Many of us may be fortunate enough to have only had it touch our lives from a distance... the story of a diagnosis that leaves us feeling sympathy for the person dealing with the disease, and at the same time some relief (perhaps a little guilt for being relieved?) that it is not our own story, or the story of someone we love. 

While for so long I seemed to be fortunate enough to have little experience with the disease, lately I am feeling like it is everywhere...almost like I am being surrounded.  This past summer we lost our Grandpa Gobel to cancer; and in the last two months, someone I love has been diagnosed and is undergoing aggressive treatment, while parents of two of my good friends have also been diagnosed.  Suddenly, what felt like a disease that other people had to deal with, is very much a part of my life, too.  And I find that my emotions on the subject veer crazily all over the place...sadness, shock, disbelief, hope.  I keep telling myself to focus on the hope and be the optimist for those fighting the disease...attitude is everything.  Some days that is harder than others...

As a person that likes to stay in control... something like cancer is completely beyond my comprehension and the cause of significant frustration and anger.  It is so hard to accept that the disease has a mind of its own and a will of its own.  How do you take that control back?  Feels like the only way to do it is to go into the fight with a positive attitude, and determination to kick cancer's butt and show it who the real boss is.  Support from those you are surrounded by is important, too.  The more positive energy you can store and build on from those who surround you will help you to keep the right focus and fight the good fight.

It is difficult, however, to just be the support... to feel the helplessness of knowing that there is only so much that you can do.  There is no way to protect the people that you love from something that is beyond our control.  I accept that as a fact, but I will not accept loss as inevitable... I will fight against that acceptance, because it is unthinkable for me.  I will be the strength of positive attitude...

Arbonne Adventure...

This time of the year is always insane for me... Our biggest project of the year happens at work and has everyone at a high anxiety level and struggling to find a work/life balance.  At the same time, kids are going back to school and starting activities, and all those end of summer plans are quickly jammed in "before it is too late".  It is just a busy time...  So, just in case I didn't have enough going on, I decided to start my own business... Yes, in the midst of O at a new school, starting dance and Daisy's, and my own hectic schedule at the other job I have, I decided to take a chance on something that could change everything. 

Those who know me well know that I wouldn't just do this in the midst of all the crazy in my life if I didn't have a lot of good reasons and really believe in it... This opportunity came to me in the form of reconnecting with an old friend who introduced me to Arbonne, and  then had to spend many, many (nine to be exact) months talking to me about the possibilities.  I also used that time to do my own due diligence...because, hey, my practical side won't allow me to do anything less.  And over that time I made some discoveries about Arbonne, about my own future, and found myself committing to becoming a part of it all.

Arbonne is a company originally founded in Switzerland in 1975 and brought to the United States in 1980... they offer an amazing line of health and wellness products, primarily focused on skincare.  Initially I tried NOT to like every product... but I couldn't help myself when I was quickly won over by the quality of the products and the real, true results.  Pure, safe, beneficial is their motto and what they stand for... But bigger and better than the products...I really like what the company is all about.  This is a company with a founder that wanted to pass along the opportunity for individuals to become entrepreneurs and develop their own businesses in a format that allowed them flexibility and the option to do as much or as little as their family life would allow.  At the same time, he believed in providing the training and support that would assist these individuals in becoming successful... And he believed in these individuals passing along the gift to others, so that they could be a part of the success, too.

For me, I realized that this is an opportunity to feel more in control of my own future... In the uncertain times that we live in, with the responsibilities that we all shoulder, it is hard to turn away from something that could change your life.  When I listed my "why" reasons... I kept thinking about O and how valuable it was to me to find an opportunity to earn some real money in a business of my own, where I control my schedule.  To have some extra money for tuition, ballet lessons, a bigger college fund... those are all motivating factors.  But I also thought... What if I was able to take the team-building skills I have learned over the years and pass along this opportunity to others who are just like me, and looking for something like this?  Maybe I could help others find success, too.

So, Arbonne is now a part of my crazy life... This weekend is the official "launch" of my business, and I find that I am way more excited than nervous (wasn't sure which I would be) and feeling very ready to begin this new venture.  And here is the "ad" you are now subjected to... If you are interested in learning more about Arbonne... I would really like to share the story and the products with you and some friends, so feel free to invite me over and I will treat you all to a relaxing, fun, spa party...with lots of benefits!

Bye, bye, blankie...

Before O was even born, my Aunt Kay crocheted a blanket just for her... baby-sized, a soft light blue, just right to wrap our new baby girl in.  We had a whole stash of similar blankets... not all hand-made, but a collection of colors, levels of softness, big ones, little ones, etc.  Over time, O decided which one was her favorite.  From the very beginning her "blue blankie" was the one she liked best.

As a toddler, we did not go anywhere without the blue blanket... It traveled anywhere we went...daycare, trips out of town, to the doctor, to the grocery store.  Blue blanket was O's constant companion, providing warmth, comfort, and a friend to cuddle with; and was the only thing guaranteed to make O feel better when she was tired or sick.  Blue blanket has taken years of abuse, as well...it has been washed more than any other item in our house, and has also been thrown up on more than anything else in our house.

Following the breakup of our household, blue blanket became the most "chased after" item...there were a number of trips made by one or the other of us to pick up or deliver the missing blanket so that O could go to sleep.  Out of habit, we became accustomed to making sure that the favorite blanket went back and forth between our houses, in O's backpack.  Even O knew enough to ask if her blanket was packed.

As our time at the daycare grew shorter, and 5K loomed in our future, I started to worry about how we were going to "break things off" between O and her blanket.  And then a strange thing started to happen... I noticed that while I still made sure that blue blanket went back and forth between our houses, and that O never went to sleep without it, SHE stopped asking for it...she stopped needing to have it with her.  When I asked O if she was going to be okay at 5K without her blanket at rest time, she just looked at me..."that's okay, mama, I don't need it for rest time".

So, here we are, three weeks into 5K...  Blue blanket has essentially been abandoned.  O has moved on... she is a hot-shot kindergartener now, and too old for things like blankets at bedtime.  In a fit of my own sentimentality, I have been putting blue blanket in her bed anyway, after she goes to bed, just in case... 

Transitions...

Change is a natural part of life... it is all around us, all of the time.  Something is always changing.  If something isn't changing...we aren't really living.  Or, we are missing everything that is going on all around us.  I tend to embrace change...I feel like we all have to accept change as it comes to us, so that we grow and learn and make the most of the opportunities that come our way, even when we don't fully understand what they mean to us.

Maybe it is this time of year, but I feel transition all around me.  The end of summer is approaching, and with it the beginning of a new school year, and fall, and the end of yet another year.  I am not sure if it is just me, but I feel like I am almost dragging my feet when it comes to moving into the next phase...like I know I need to do it, but I just can't quite accept what is coming to me.  It is just so unlike me...

So much is changing... We are about to say good-bye to the place that has been O's second "home" since she was just twelve weeks old.  It is a bittersweet ending... She is clearly ready for the next phase... Like her mom, she has no problem with change.  She has been talking for weeks about her new school and the first day of Kindergarten cannot get here fast enough for her...  She will leave behind the school she has known for years without even a backward glance.  As her mom, I am glad that it won't be a difficult transition to Kindergarten...she is ready to move on.  Another part of me is just so sad...I will very much miss the routine of the "old" school, the staff that we knew, the ease of leaving her there each day knowing that she was in the right place.  So, it is a transition for me as well as one for her...

Other parts of my life are experiencing more than their fair share of transition, too... Some days I feel like an outsider, a stranger, looking in on a life that I know is mine but seems to just be moving around (or past) me... Perhaps it is a control issue?  I don't mind change...but I don't like to feel like it is all completely out of my control.  I wish sometimes that I could learn to be more easy going about things...like the ocean, I wish I could just roll with the tide and let it all happen without trying to foresee where the ending might lead me.

So... I will buy school supplies, and new uniforms, and start "practicing" the new routine that is coming my way... I will gear up for fall... and work on accepting the changes that are coming my way.  I will do my best to be aware of my reactions to what is happening all around me and yes, accepting of those things... because fighting against change is against my nature, and I know from experience that it is so very unproductive.  Learning to let go and let things just be...that is toughest of all.  I can do it... if I just focus, I know that I can.

Family...

There are all kinds of families... there are the picture-perfect, magazine ad ones with mom and dad and their two kids, there are the single parents that raise their children on their own, the broken families that have two of everything including houses and holidays, the makeshift families that are created out of love, rather than blood, when there is no blood... And there are the families that "happen", that grow out of all the less than perfect families they started out as... These connections make us who we are.

I have been a part of the picture perfect family... I grew up in a typical middle-class family, with grandparents and lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins.  I was always fortunate to know that I was a part of something that was created over generations.  I also experienced a hybrid of a broken family when my parents divorced when I was twenty-two... We didn't have two of everything, but things were different...we still spent some holidays all together, and there was always enough peace to celebrate the good things that came to each of us as if we still were a family.  Weddings and babies...those things brought us together.

And then it happened... My parents each found a "someone" and began new families... Suddenly, I found that I had twice as many siblings, and another set of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  When I was younger it seemed a little overwhelming and maybe even a bit intimidating... Where did I fit in?  Would I always be a "step" something to my new family?  Would a time come when I would feel as comfortable with my new family as I did with the one that I grew up with?

I have been so fortunate... My step-mom has become so very important to me and is someone that I turn to often when I need advice, encouragement, and support.  We have grown so very close over the years since she married my dad, and I truly cannot imagine my life without her in it.  She is another "mom" to me...  She is a valued confidant and friend.  I think our relationship has grown not only because we love and respect each other, but also because we know we are lucky to have been thrown together by chance and circumstance.

My step-mom lost her dad to cancer this week and I am heartbroken for her and for my step-siblings... I feel all of the usual helplessness that comes with loving someone and having an inability to "fix" the situation.  Losing Grandpa Fred is a loss for O and I, too... We have been so lucky to have been brought into the extended family with open arms and a warm embrace... We are always included in family holidays and gatherings, and Grandma never forgets a birthday or to remember us at Christmas.  I have aunts and uncles that care about O and I and are interested in our lives... I have more cousins and siblings to gossip and shop and yes, drink and dance with...

The end of Grandpa's life has been a good reminder to me of what family is really about.  Families come together in all sorts of different ways.  Over time, families grow and they change and they learn to love each other...no matter how they came together.  I have been truly lucky to have "fallen into" this family... It has been such an uplifting experience to see them pull together in their grief, to watch them take care of each other, and have fun with each other, and celebrate someone they held so dear.  And to know that I am a part of them is best of all...

Effortless...

Some people are easier to get to know than others... it isn't necessarily about how open they are, but more about how comfortable you are with each other.  There is a natural chemistry between some people that allows them to just "click" with each other...they don't have to work at being together or understanding each other, the relationship is effortless.

I've experienced effortless... in relationships with family members, close friends, and men I have loved.  I had forgotten, until I was reminded today, that it does exist in all kinds of personal relationships.  I've spent a good part of the last month trying to get to know someone new... Always, at the start of dating someone, I try to remind myself that it takes extra effort, that it is always awkward when you are just getting to know someone new, that you can't expect it to be easy right from the beginning... But, is that all true?  Should it be effortless right from the start?  Or, is that just rare and special when it happens?

Mr. Someone New and I had a conversation today about how things have been going between us... and what to do next.  We have had challenges with finding time to spend together, and it has felt to me like we almost start all over each time we get together... But until he asked me today "shouldn't it be effortless"?  I could not identify what seemed to be missing... He was right... it has not been effortless between us.  I have been making excuses that it just comes with time and is part of getting to know someone, at the same time that he was waiting for it to be easier, too.  So, you know how this story ends...

The conversation today was a good reminder for me... Maybe effortless isn't something you HAVE to immediately have in order to make a relationship work...maybe some relationships do just take more time to develop, but when you find a person that you really connect with easily and without a lot of effort...those are relationships you need to hold on to.

Big shoes to fill...

I was born two days after Father's Day in 1972...  June 18, 1972 was actually the FIRST official Father's Day thanks to Richard Nixon.  I was born the following Tuesday...making my dad a father for the first time.  I find it very appropriate that my birthday and Father's Day sort of go hand in hand... I am a self-professed "daddy's girl", and sharing my birthday with dad's special day has always seemed fitting.

I am so very thankful for the man who is my father... Over the years I have come to appreciate my dad more and more...  I worshiped him when I was just a little girl...he was a playmate and jungle gym, took me with him to spend hours in my grandfather's greenhouse, and provided our family with great summer vacations.  While he and I have always been close, there were plenty of years between being a teenager and a college graduate that my dad and I had challenges seeing each others point of view...that was just a part of growing up (probably for both of us).  At this stage in my life, as a parent myself, I value all of the characteristics that make him both a great father, as well as a good man, more than I ever did.

I have read research that discusses how women that do not have a strong father figure in their life have trouble being successful in romantic relationships because they are looking for a man who can also fill the role of the father that they don't have.  But, I wonder... Do the women with proportionately stronger relationships with their fathers also have a more difficult time?  Can any man fill the shoes of the father that is everything to his daughter?

In my own relationships, I don't think that I have ever made comparisons between my dad and the men in my life...but maybe I should have?  I think it is not so much about my dad specifically as it is about his character.  No man will ever replace my dad or be what he is to me... I would, however, be lucky to find a man with some of his best traits...loyalty, dependability, sense of humor, commitment to family.  Perhaps the real mission should be to find someone who possesses those important traits.

Too Much Information...

Recently I made an appointment to have an old tattoo reworked... To me, the getting of the tattoo was no big deal, especially since it already existed.  When I was asked to go for a drink after work on the night of my appointment, I casually said I could not make it because of my tattoo appointment.  I said this innocently enough, and quite honestly did not really consider that anyone would be particularly interested in the fact that I even had a tattoo.  However, it apparently turned out to be a topic of conversation for the group of people that did go out that night.  And another friend in that group proceeded to lecture me the next day about "sharing my personal information".

So, I am asking myself... do we share too much information?  Do we know when too much is too much?  In a facebook, twitter, blog age where we tend to talk about the day-to-day of our lives and "post" it for all to read, have we lost our boundaries of privacy?  Are we so accustomed to knowing all about our friends, family, and even acquaintances that we have forgotten how to keep some things to ourselves?  Where are the lines?  What do you guard and keep as your own?

Having thought this over the last several days, I find myself regretting I was so specific about what I was up to that night.  I naively believed that my one comment would not be interesting enough to fuel an entire conversation.  And perhaps because I did not share any details, that just caused more speculation and discussion.  While none of it is anyone's business, I made it their business when I was so clear about where I was going. 

I find that I am lecturing myself about learning to keep my mouth closed...something that is not particularly easy for me to do.  I am a generally open person... I do know when it is inappropriate to share most personal things, but I tend to be fairly open about a lot of general things.  The lesson for me here is to try and be more thoughtful before I throw out those general things to anyone for public consumption...there tend to be consequences for sharing.

Vacation Anticipation...

Everybody loves vacation... what is not to love about taking a break from the every day routine?  Whether you travel or have your own "staycation", it is still a chance to unwind, relax, do something different.  But the question today is this... What do you love more?  The vacation itself or the anticipation of the vacation?

I really enjoy all of the "pre-vacation" stuff...  Choosing a great destination, making all of the arrangements, reading books and scouring the internet to figure out what I want to do and where I want to go (eat, that is)... Shopping and packing for the trip is fun to me, too... I love putting on my own fashion show to figure out what should go into the suitcase and what should stay home... Do I need another dress?  Do I have enough shoes packed?

The night before frenzy is part of the fun, too... Frantically washing clothes and packing the suitcase, trying to squeeze everything in (and then some).  Checking flights and printing boarding passes... Double (make that triple) checking for passports, money, keys...  And there is always some last minute something that you have to run out for.  Who needs sleep?  You can sleep when you GET to your vacation, right?!

When you travel with someone special, the planning can be even more fun... It turns into a "together" project to figure out what you just "have" to bring, see, and do on your trip.  They are the ones that you talk to for weeks about how much you can't wait to be on the plane and on your way...

I am so fortunate to be having my "night before" tonight... Spent the evening running... suitcase packed, one last spin through the tanning bed, then ran for a manicure/pedicure... Got the house ready for abandonment and should be going to sleep, but there is just one more project (after this) that I need to finish.  The best part about tonight?  Knowing that I will spend the next several days with great girlfriends...who have been so much fun to plan this trip with.  The anticipation is keeping me awake... Soon we will be on our way, and I will be "anticipating" what I will write about our trip...once we are home again.

The Last Word...

Words are so much a part of who we are...they define every moment, every emotion.  Words make us laugh, break our hearts, bring us inspiration...they are the foundation for our music, education, and our entertainment.  They are hurtful when used in anger or frustration... and healing when used to repair past mistakes, providing the foundation to forgiveness.

What we say, how we say it, and whom we say it all to...the choices we make about how we use our words can make all the difference.  They are delicate things sometimes, our words.  The wrong words can divide families, sometimes nations, and change the course of history.  Choosing our words carefully, however, can be the difference...bringing people together.

Generally speaking, I am a fan of using more words rather than fewer words...for pretty much everything.  I would rather know and understand the whole story, than only have a part of it and have to use my imagination to fill in the blanks.  It is true in my professional life as well as my personal life... if there is one thing you can count on me to support and do my best to perpetuate, it is good communication.  When people start to tell themselves their own stories, because they don't have a full, true, story, their imaginations tend to take them to places that have no real footing in reality.  I am as guilty of this as the next person...I think it is just human nature to an extent.

I find myself frustrated lately by just how poorly a lot of people communicate... And it has me wondering why it happens or how people let it happen.  Some of the whys are simple...too busy, too forgetful, or too many people to communicate to.  How it happens, in most cases I think, is that something needs to be said but finding the right time and way to do it can be difficult...so the stalling starts and the next thing you know, it really is too late.  Not to be harsh...but I call this "conflict avoidance", whereas those who choose this method of communication would probably say they were being careful and preventing emotional fallout from what they needed to say.

You know where I am going with this, right?!  There have been several of these types of individuals in my life, but today I will just deal with one.  After six weeks of all sorts of communication, dates, etc...sudden silence.  It started with excuses...sick, too busy at work, cell phone died...THEN it went to silence.  Okay, so I am a smart enough girl that when the excuses started I knew something was up...and in the least demanding way I could come up with tried to ask what was going on.  I never got an answer.

So, I am left with only my imagination to figure out "why?"...  Let me just say that MY imagination should never be left to figure out these kinds of things... Predictably I have been going through the laundry list of "things that are wrong with me" to find the right one... the funny thing about that one is that the guy didn't even have a chance to figure out what a lot of those things are!  So, then I turned to replaying in my head every one of the last few conversations that we had to figure out what I SAID wrong... because what I communicated to him must have been the problem, right?!

Needless to say, without the other half of the situation weighing in with some information, this quest for answers is going nowhere... That means that I get to decide what the problem was.  So, I am doing my best to blame it all on things being wrong with him.  Seems fair to me.  He is clearly the conflict-avoider type and changed his mind about me, but doesn't even have the emotional maturity to say to my face "I don't like you anymore".  I am clearly better off without him in my life.  And that will be the last word...*

*Unless he got hit by a truck and is in a coma, unable to communicate...but I will deal with that when he comes crawling back, looking for forgiveness and chanting how he just can't lose me...  And there goes that imagination again.

Royalty ...

A royal wedding is something to behold... There is nothing quite like the joy of the British people when celebrating the union of a future King or Queen.  It is truly an event like no other...literally brings an entire nation together in anticipation, and keeps the rest of the world enchanted as well.  What is it that draws all of us in?  Why do we get up before dawn so that we can see the ceremony as it happens?  Why do we have parties, buy souvenirs, and search the internet for the details?

The obvious reason?  We all enjoy a good fairytale... Love at first sight... Prince Charming and his Princess fall in love and then live happily ever after.  That "something" we all search for, whether we will admit it or not, is that discovery of once in a lifetime, unconditional love that is celebrated with a beautiful day to mark the beginning of a wonderful life...and a love that never ends. 

For those of us old enough to remember when Charles and Diana were married so many years ago, the wedding of their son seems to hold a certain wistful magic... it brings back the memories of that first wedding, the controversy that defined their relationship, and the tragedy that completely ended it.  It seems to come back full circle with the celebration of another royal wedding.

As William and Kate celebrate their day, and honor his mother, there is a certain sadness that comes with knowing she should have been there, in the middle of it all.  Despite her absence, her presence is still clearly felt on this day...in the media clips of her own wedding day, and the acknowledgments to her memory throughout the day.  In the hearts of the people who loved her, perhaps this day inspires the hope that her son has the chance at happiness that she never seemed able to grasp and hold on to.  And that is truly something to celebrate...

School Choice...

I remember a moment of panic when the nurse first placed O in my arms... How was I going to do this? How was I going to take care of this little person?  There were a million things to worry, agonize and stress myself out over...  When I try to recall what that list of "things" was that I was concerned about...I don't recall choosing a kindergarten being on that list.  College?  Yes... but kindergarten?  Not so much...

My perspective has changed over the last six months as I have run the gauntlet (otherwise known as trying to figure out the best place to send your five-year old when you live in the Racine Unified school district), weighing the options and trying to make a wise decision... I have a stack of paperwork about a mile high on my desk, evidence of the amount of legwork that has gone into this process.

Public School Recap:  Unfortunately, the neighborhood school that we are assigned to is, well...let's just say, less than ideal.  So, I looked into the options to move O to another public school... those options include, applying to the "magnet" schools in town; applying out of district and taking a chance on a spot being open; applying during "school choice" time to another city (but if you then move to that City they void your application...what?!).  Decided to pursue the magnet school option... Sat through three orientation meetings (you have to attend one at every school you apply to) where they basically told us you have a small chance of getting your kid in because a zillion parents apply, and we have only a few slots open thanks to sibling preference and requirements to fill the slots based on the demographics of the City.  In other words...if O was a Chinese girl, we would be in...but, she isn't (no one cares that she is a second generation US-born Russian...go figure?).

Private School Recap:  Next option...private school.  I have now visited every Catholic grade school in this City... There are lots of good options and quite honestly, the tuition seems small in comparison to stressing out over her safety at some of the other schools (and compared to what we have already paid the last five years).  The other plus is that most of them go through eighth grade...which means that I won't have to go through all of this again when we get to the middle school decision.  Yeah...that is a big plus.

To make the process even more special... O's dad and I don't agree on any of the options (this is a surprise, right?!).  His top three list includes two schools that have tuition that rivals that of some local colleges... When I provided my list I got the "all you care about is money, you don't care about her education" speech...which is ironic considering I have visited a lot of schools and he has not visited any of his top three... apparently, if you spend a fortune, your child gets a good education!?  Hmmmm....

So, here we are... the middle of April and the magnet school application letters are starting to come in... Fine Arts?  Not chosen in the lottery...  Red Apple?  CHOSEN in the lottery... this is a small miracle, complicated by the fact that while the program is strong (science and technology focus), the school itself is in a crappy place and the schedule is not great, requiring busing for after school, etc.  Jefferson Lighthouse...still pending.  In the meantime, my Catholic school friends are actively pursuing me...personalized emails, phone calls, etc...

Does it not seem like this should be easier?  Did my parents go through all of this?  It is all worth it to get O into the right environment where she can get smart, make friends, and stay safe...and also be in an environment that I can handle leaving her in so that I can go to work all day, and not have a nervous breakdown while I am there.  In my mind, the choice is made...I see her at one of the Catholic grade schools...in her uniform, playing with the other girls, going to religion class, just like I did.  But I wonder... am I missing something?  Will she get a well-rounded education?  Is there a better option (and don't suggest moving...thanks to the real estate market, I think that option is out)?  I am agonizing about this choice, and keep wondering...am I making a bigger deal about this than I should?  Of all the things I worry about, isn't this the one that matters most?

The Masters...

Golf...I have an uncharacteristically strong obsession (at least if you ask my friends, who giggle about it and shake their heads) with PGA tour golf.  It started quite a few years ago, when I was pregnant with O, and I guess looking for something to provide background noise on Sunday while I worked around the house cleaning, doing laundry, etc... What started out as just noise became a fascination as I actually got to know who the players were, the courses that they played, and the teams that did the announcing... Pretty soon I was recording tournaments on the DVR and watching more than just on Sunday.

Somewhere during my golf "education" I stumbled onto The Masters... the first Major of the year, held every spring at Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Georgia, at what is arguably the most beautiful course on the tour.  The tournament has become my favorite... I actually get giddy knowing it is coming early April...for weeks before I anxiously anticipate the start of the tournament, checking and double checking to make sure that I haven't messed up the setup on my DVR so that I catch every sweet, juicy minute of the week.  If I could take off work, lock myself in the house, and watch every second, I would do it...unfortunately, being quarter-end means that is not an option, but I improvise.

So, now you are asking yourself... "Why? What is the big deal?"... The question is a good one... What is it about The Masters that draws me in and keeps me always coming back for more?  A lot of it has to do with the history of the place...for 75 years the best of the best have participated in this tournament.  The Masters itself is wrapped in tradition, taking place on a legendary course, with the ghosts of past greats around every corner.  There is a certain timelessness about the tournament that I think comes from always being held on the same course, with a lot of the same traditions each year.  For that reason it feels familiar, dependable, certain... Regardless of the outcome on Sunday, the results never disappoint.  These characteristics appeal to me as I continue to seek them out in other parts of my life...while there is no guarantee that I will find them, what I do know is that I can find that peace one week each year at Augusta.  Now I just have to figure out how to make the dream of actually going there and standing on the 13th hole a reality...

Broken Hearted....

If you had your heart broken, or let’s just say it, smashed… is it really possible for it to heal so that it can be broken again? And if it wasn’t healed fully, what happens when you give that broken heart to someone else, someone that ends up breaking it more than it was already damaged in the first place? If it wasn’t healed to begin with, can it even be broken again or broken more or broken worse? Is that possible?

The next question is this… How many times can your heart be broken until there just isn’t anything left to be hurt? Can the right person have the magic glue that puts the pieces of your heart back together? How do you put your heart into that person’s hands…how can you trust them to take care of it? Or, do you just pretend to have a heart that can be broken, all the while protecting what is left of the one you started out with? Can you let someone into your life and not get too close, not put that trust in them?  Do they know?  Would they understand?  Do you just end up driving them away?

Why do we come back for more? Do we ever really reach a point where enough is just finally enough? Does it make you a hopeless romantic if you just keep going back for more? Or does it make you a “hopeful” romantic?  We all need and want love in our lives... Can the lessons from the past make you smarter, more prepared, more ready to take a real risk on someone?  Or, do you just try to convince yourself that you are "putting yourself out there" because you know you have to...or risk being alone?

I know that my "frog" experiment has taught me a lot of valuable lessons... I finally know what kind of person I really want in my life, and I know THAT person is not easy to find and that I need to keep my eyes open so that I don't miss him... or chase him away with the insecurities and doubts that come with all the baggage from my past.  I also know that I deserve someone great, that I have a lot of love to give to the right person, and that the right man is lucky to have me...and I should not settle for less than having that person in my life.  I also get it that I can't compare every man that comes into my life with those that live in my past, despite how hard it is to truly forget the hurt that typically comes with taking a chance on someone.

I find myself getting attached to a newish "frog" and feeling the beginnings of something...that could be a real something if I just gave it a chance.  I have resisted the urge to protect myself...resisted the urge to run before it is too late.  None of that stops me from questioning everything...  He seems too good to be true... Is this real?  Is it just finally the right time?  So... I find myself at that critical point...the one where you have to let go and see what happens...

Girlfriends...

"...my friend, she is my insides..." Carrie, Sex & The City

There is something special about girlfriends... they are your family, they know you better than you know yourself, they make you laugh, they hold your hand when you cry, they cheer for you when you succeed.  Sometimes they ARE your family, sometimes they are a childhood friend that has known you forever; most of the time they are the women you have met over time, through all of life's twists and turns...boyfriends, jobs, school, etc...  I have always believed that the amazing women I have met over the years have all come into my life for some reason or another...

My girlfriends have gotten me through everything... the good times and the not so good times; they understand me better than anyone, they tell me the things that I need to hear (whether I will like them or not), and they are the women that I always know that I can count on... they have helped me through difficult decisions, talked me down from the ledge when I do my usual over-analysis of a situation, and encouraged me to take a chance when I really just want to run...

When I try to imagine what my life would be like without my girlfriends...well, I just can't.  It is literally inconceivable to me.  So, it is hard to hear that someone who was a friend of mine in high school has passed away...  I will always remember her as a sweet, loving, teenage girl, that I got to know as "Sarah Sue" when we worked together at Adrian's Frozen Custard.  I lost touch with her in the years that followed high school, and now I will always regret that we never did hook up for that cup of coffee we talked about getting this past December, when we reconnected after so many years.

The message today is this... keep your girlfriends close.  It is so easy to get wrapped up in the day-to-day of life and responsibility, and neglect the relationships that mean the most to us.  When we assume that we have all of the time in the world to "catch up" with those important women, sometimes we find that time has run out on us...  For all of the girlfriends in my life... you are MY "insides"; you mean everything to me and I can't imagine being ME without having YOU.

Smart Men, Smart Women?

A friend of mine sent me the following article this week... I think this was an effort to see if I could be coaxed into a blog topic...which, of course, I have totally fallen for.  This is for you, my friend! 

The following was written by John Carney, CNBC.com, in response to an article in TheGloss.com by Jennifer Wright...  See the link... "Why Do Smart Men Date Dumb Girls?"

http://www.cnbc.com/id/41872437/

You all know that I cannot just walk away from this one without saying something, right?  The article tries to answer the question of why smart men date dumb girls by suggesting that it is just easier... that it requires less effort on the part of the man if he chooses the dumb girl.  The article also seems to suggest that for dumb girls, they have more motivation to go out with smarter guys and so they try harder to find those guys.  Well... here are my two cents on this one...

Dumb girls, smart guys... Let's just get this one out of the way.  The argument that a "dumb" girl wants to date a smart guy because she has few opportunities and needs the smart guy to take care of her, sounds pretty old-fashioned doesn't it?  I would argue that the man who believes that he has landed a dumb girl because he is just so smart and she needs him to care for her may NOT be so smart himself... Perhaps the "dumb" girl is a lot smarter than he is giving her credit for... If she is smart enough to figure out how to get you to take care of her, maybe she isn't so dumb after all???

Smart guys, dumb girls... I get the argument that if you are Mr. Smart Guy and spend all of your time and energy focused primarily on a career, it may be difficult to "fit" a smart woman into that lifestyle.  The reason it is going to be difficult is not only because she will have her own priorities, but she will demand that if you want her in your life you actually make some time in that busy schedule to see her.  That requires time and effort, and maybe, sometimes, compromise... 

I would argue that while the relationship will take more work, the rewards are greater (and how smart is the guy that does not know this?).  The idea of the little woman at home awaiting your arrival each day after a hard days work may be appealing, but will it keep you challenged?  Will you have something to talk to that person about, if all they do is spend their time waiting for you to make time for them?   I think that short-term this type of situation may have some appeal, but in the long term the smart man is going to be bored and find himself in a relationship that feels pretty empty...    The smart men that I know appreciate smart women in their life because they keep them on their toes...and whether they will admit it or not, those men like a good challenge, they enjoy the hard work required to get the best things in life.

So, now let's flip the whole situation around... if a smart man wants a dumb girl, does a smart girl want a dumb man???  I consider myself to be one of those smart girls, and personally, I like a smart man in my life for all the same reasons that I think a smart man wants a smart woman.  I like a good challenge... I want a man that is strong in his own opinions and can handle it when I argue with him about current issues.  I like a man who is passionate about the things he cares about, is always learning, and has a well-rounded life (unlike the career guy that seems to only have one thing going on?).  This man won't just let me get away with anything because he thinks I am smarter than him... He will always keep things interesting and treat me like an equal...which makes the relationship good for both of us.

Clean up in aisle ?

Moms clean things... lots of things.  They pick up toys, wash clothes, clean skinned knees... They make sure that kids go to school and church and birthday parties all sparkly clean, and then they hose them down when they get home so that they are ready to start all over again.   Most of the time, moms do this without thinking... we even have a tendency to do the "cleaning" outside of our own homes and our own children.  It tends to spread to other parts of our lives, like cleaning up after co-workers in the break room or supply closet, and putting things back in order when shopping in Department Stores and Grocery Stores.  Cleaning things up is just a part of who we are...

How did we get like this?  Is there just some genetic code that gets passed from woman to woman through time?  Did we inherit the quality from our own mothers through their examples?  Why are the same demands not typically made of our male counterparts?  Do we just take over, seize control, and not LET them help?  Have we trained them to just wait for us to clean up every mess, because they know that eventually we will?

I find myself spending too much time lately contemplating my "clean up" skills.  By nature, I like things to be organized and put in their places.  Over time, I have learned to accept more disorder in favor of spending time on more important things than cleaning.  That is not to say that there is junk piled all around the house (I shiver at the thought)...but, I don't have a pristine house either.  I try to teach O that when she is done with something she needs to put it away...that usually means that I help, but hopefully the lesson is getting through.  Regardless, I am involved in the clean-up process...and as a mom, it is just part of the job description.

While being the clean up crew for a toddler is pretty easy to accept, I find myself bristling at being in the same position when it comes to dealing with a few other situations...  In my personal relationships, I have more often than not been in the position of needing to clean up some sort of mess that the significant other in my life created... sometimes that mess involved other personal relationships, sometimes the problem involved finances, and sometimes just a general inability to take responsibility for actions.  Just seems that I always find myself feeling obligated to be the "fixer".

The true question here is this... How do you break free of the cycle when you have trained someone else to believe that you will always fix the mess?  Why am I surprised when problems seem to end up being dumped in my lap...once again?  After all, didn't I create the monster?  I think the reason that I get angry is that I feel powerless...  How do I take control of the situation?  How do I position myself so that I have some leverage?  Or, do I just need to accept the fact that some people can't be depended on to take care of their own responsibilities?  Some people don't have the capacity or the desire to stand on their own two feet...they will always take advantage of others in their life.  I don't want to create the situation where I am depended on to clean up every mess, but maybe I do?

Valentine's Day?

I detest February...every single thing about the entire month, really.  I know this sounds like a bad attitude, and, well...it is a bad attitude.  February is the month each year that I could just "skip".  By the time February rolls around I have pretty much had it with winter and am ready for some warm weather...I am sick of being pale and pasty looking; I am sick of being cooped up in the house; sick of a million extra things I need to cart around to keep myself and O warm and dry; sick of schlepping around in the muck; sick of the dirty, ugly snow and lack of color.  I could go on and on and on... What is there about February to redeem itself (okay, besides the Packers winning the Super Bowl...THAT was good)?????  What?

A group of us at work had this conversation just the other day and I was told that Valentine's Day is the thing that redeems February... There was a collective dreamy sigh from the majority and general ooey, gooeyness over Valentine's Day... So, following all of my whining about weather, etc., I felt like an even bigger jerk when I admitted...I am not really a fan of Valentine's Day either.  Gasp!  What?  Not a fan of Valentine's Day?  How is that possible?

Okay...  So, here is my thing about Valentine's Day...  It does not seem very authentic to me... A holiday that mandates that you tell someone you love them and shower them with gifts feels pretend to me.  Pressure is on those who have a sweetheart to either do something fabulous, or appear to be unfeeling and less than enamored with the one you claim to love.  If, on the other hand, you fold under the pressure and produce some fantastic demonstration of your love...doesn't that seem like showing off?

Maybe my attitude stems from my own experience... When I was in high school, I dated a guy that basically ticked off the entire school when he almost completely bought out the Student Council Valentine's Sucker Sale and had them all sent to me...yes, it caused a stir and I got plenty of attention on delivery day.  Did I feel more loved or more special?  At the time, I think I did, but in hindsight I know that he was just going for maximum drama. 

Rather than being a public display of affection... Shouldn't telling someone how much they mean to you and how crazy in love with them you are just be about the two of you?  Between the two of you?  Why does everyone else need to be involved somehow (if only on the fringes)?  For me, the best way to let me know that you care is through little everyday things... Make time for me in your life; involve me in the things you care about; give me a helping hand when I need someone; listen when I am sad; celebrate with me when I am happy; and let me share those same feelings with you when you have them.

My advice?  Big bouquets of overpriced roses, boxes of fancy chocolates, and sparkly jewels are all nice and you can feel free to shower me with any of those, at any time, randomly, throughout the year... but, it should never feel like a requirement for Valentine's Day or any day, and it is definitely unnecessary.  You can show me in a million smaller ways how much you care about me and those things will last longer and mean so very much more to me...

One Date Wonder...

I go on a lot of first dates... A LOT.  Don't get me wrong...there is not a line of guys around the corner waiting to ask me out...  It is only because of the matchmaker that I have a steady stream of first dates.  What I do not go on are very many second dates...and virtually no third dates.  At the beginning, this seemed like a part of the dating process... meet someone, you figure out early if there is any chemistry, and if not...well, that is it.  Why waste the other person's time, right?! 
 

I think I am a good first date... I am easy to talk to and know how to make the other person feel comfortable.  I never try to rush off to the next important thing I have to do...if you go out with me, you get my full attention.  And I am always willing to try (almost) anything at least once (whether that is a particular restaurant, activity...you get it).  So, I am sure I seem to be this laid back, easy to know, lighthearted person.

I was recently on a first date where the guy told me that he goes on a lot of first dates...but does not have many second dates.  He gave me his whole theory about how in the first fifteen minutes you know if you are going to want to spend more time with the other person or not.  I told him my own experience was basically the same...and felt good that we have the same philosophy.  And then he asked me to go on a second date with him...

I have started to notice that my pattern is pretty consistent... It is not that I go on first dates and never get ASKED to go on second dates.  Typically, I go on the first date, my date thinks we need to go on a second date, and I pretty much go out of my way to make sure we never go on that date...

So, if I am ready to be out dating, and I have no problem getting myself set up on all of these first dates, what is it that keeps me from wanting anything more than a first date?  Some of it does have to do with the fact that if I know I don't have any chemistry with you, I am not going to pretend that I want to continue to date you.  But, I have been on some first dates that had possibilities, and I always seem to do everything I can to avoid date number two... I am not sure what I am more afraid of...that I will actually like the person and want to have them in my life?  I am not sure I want to deal with the complications that will create.  Or, am I afraid that they will change their mind about me and I will be disappointed?  Am I making sure they have no real chance?

I think I know the answer... But knowing, does not change the complexity of the situation... Is it fair to keep going on first dates and giving a false expectation that a second date could happen?  Am I just leading these guys on, even if it is unintentional?  And what to do about the latest guy...second date, or no second date?

Sticks and stones...and one broken bone.

I have been accused a time or two of being an overprotective mother... What some define as overprotective, I would characterize as cautious and careful.  But these are all just words, right?!  Most importantly, I figure that the one person in the world I need to take care of is O, and since she is too small to know the danger in most things (for which I am thankful) it is up to me to keep her safe.  At the same time, I want her to have her freedom to explore the world around her and try new things.  And believe me, she is not shy when it comes to taking advantage of new opportunities... 

I believe there is a reasonable middle ground when it comes to deciding what safe is...  I am not obsessive to the point where she is wearing a helmet in the house "just because" and all the sharp corners are padded.  To the other extreme, you won't find me advocating that we run through the place with scissors either...  But I do think that some general common sense should be applied in physical situations, especially when she is trying out new things.

Fast forward to Christmas... Santa, in all his wisdom (and I was most definitely on board with this one), decided to give O roller skates.  One of the parents helping Santa made a strong suggestion (more than once) that a helmet and knee/elbow pads should also be part of the gift...but Santa made his purchase and it did not include those things.  I decided to give Santa some help and sent along knee/elbow pads in O's backpack...

New Year's Eve...  I call O to say goodnight and happy (almost) new year... and she tells me that "I fell, mama, and my elbow hurts".  When I asked her what had happened, she told me that she had been roller skating in the basement (NOT wearing her elbow pads) and had fallen.  Considering that it is not like her to make a big deal about falling down, I decided to ask Dad about what happened.  He seemed pretty confident that it was no big deal and that she would be fine.  When I checked on her the next day, however, she was still talking about the elbow...

After much debate back and forth between O's dad and I about the need to take her to Prompt Care for an x-ray...we were finally in agreement that she needed to go.  That is, until we arrived at Prompt Care and the line was at least twenty-five people deep...  I will sum up the next four hours by saying that I was quite happy to leave the not-so-prompt care with only ONE of us in a temporary cast.  Diagnosis...broken elbow.

We are now three days into our first "broken bone" experience... We are figuring out what works in the bathtub, which clothes can be worn when you have one big arm and one small arm, how to get in and out of the car, how to maneuver in the bathroom, etc.  O is learning a good lesson about how to live with some temporary limitations and about how to accept things that you can not change.

I am also certain of another lesson...accidents happen, even when you do your best to prevent them.  They happen on any day at any time.  They happen whether you are an overprotective parent or the parent who throws caution to the wind.  And they happen with or without the helmet and knee/elbow pads... I am still committed to my "careful" approach...and quite honestly worried that when O is considered "healed" I am going to wish I could put her in bubble wrap for some period of time.  But, kids need to be kids... So, I will continue to be cautious, but give her some space to be herself.