MOTHERHOOD

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From the moment the once enticing fragrances of coffee brewing or burgers grilling sends you running to the toilet to hurl your cookies, motherhood challenges you. Suddenly eating saltines before you rise is a prerequisite and laying in a sea of cracker crumbs becomes a way of life.  Your boobies start hurting, the scale takes an unprecedented leap and veins pop up like roadmaps in your legs.  But nine months later after nine agonizing hours of labor and an emergency C-section, there she is.  All pink and wide-eyed and fragile as a baby bird looking up at you as if to say, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Fact is, you don’t.  And it’s a little scary at first. Should I lay her on her back or her side or stomach – do I have too many covers on her – is she hungry or thirsty – did I eat today – is she hot or is she cold – why is she screaming – is she wet or dry – did she poop AGAIN – how does this diaper work – when do I get to take my shower? Ah, where is Dr. Spock when you need him?  But somehow you manage when intuition kicks in.  Suddenly you know what to do, and the baby flashes that toothless grin at your melting heart as if to say, “Way to go, Mom.  Good job!”

Infancy flashes by in a wink of an eye.  Before you know it, they are two years old and running away from you with their ponytails flapping in the breeze. A petulant “NO” becomes the only word in their vocabulary. You’re thinner than you’ve ever been in your life for all the chasing you do. But then they go off to kindergarten and you get to sit down once in awhile…until the second one comes along…then it’s no holds barred.

Now they’re in school and you’re working and driving them to dancing lessons, soccer and lacrosse games, cheerleading and birthday parties and life is screaming by at the speed of light. The house is a mess and laundry never gets done because by the time you return home you fall into bed and crash to sleep. Grade school, middle school and high school are all whizzing by and you’re tired and wish you had a life of your own.

Then you take them to college and squeeze them so tightly they can’t breathe and tears are pouring from your eyes, and you can’t stop them.  They graduate, they get careers and they’re off on their own, and you sit with that life of your own you wanted so badly where you can do anything you want, and now you can’t remember why or what that actually is.

You want to go back and hold that little baby one more time and read her “I Was So Mad” or “Goodnight Moon” as you sit together in the rocking chair.  You want to watch Sesame Street with them and color and play Barbies and have a tea party or a lemonade stand where they sell cheese doodles and fruit punch.  But that time is gone – in a wink of an eye.

Motherhood – it’s exhausting and amazing and the best thing you’ll ever do with your life…that is until Grandmotherhood comes along.

My beautiful girls – Katie and Megan.

A WALK IN THE RAIN

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I’m a walk-a-holic, so if I don’t get in my 2-3 miles a day (which isn’t really much), by nightfall my muscles start atrophying. And, although I like to blame my rambunctious lab Bella as the reason I’m so obsessed, it’s really my choice. There’s no stress reducer in the world like a brisk walk on a sunny day with a cool wind at your back. Pounding that pavement is so much better than, say, downing a triple layer fudge cake imbedded with chocolate chips.  I’m sure Dr. Oz would agree.

So off I went on this dark, gloomy day with Bella in tow.  Although there was only a light drizzle as I pulled out of the driveway to go to the park, by the time we made it there it was pouring rain.  Bella was itching to do her duty, so there was no other choice then to zip up, pull on the hood and get out of the car.  I opened the hatch and Bella reluctantly stuck her snoot up and sniffed the air.

“Let’s go,” I coaxed…

“Come on, girl,” I pleaded…

“Get out of the damn car!” I yelled as I yanked on the leash. Bella leapt out of the car into a huge puddle and drenched what was left of the dry part of my pants. Off we went to the tune of my saturated sneakers squeaking and squishing.

What’s nice about a walk in the hammering rain is that you walk faster, work up more of a sweat quicker and cut the time of the walk in half.  Add to that the fact that since you are the only whack job crazy enough to stroll along in the sopping wet, you can retreat into the solitude of a private park and do some soul-searching without anyone trying to disrupt your train of thought by saying hello. “What is the meaning of life?” “What is the purpose of my existence?” I ponder. I start getting lost in my thoughts until Bella gives a monstrous shake and douses me with a heavy spray of muddy water startling me back to reality. The soul-searching question becomes, “Why am I not getting in from the rain?”

I rush Bella along now and can tell she is really disappointed that she hasn’t had the opportunity to yank me towards another dog because there is no other creature existing in this place at this time.  Then she spots a squirrel scaling a tree and makes a mad dash toward it through the saturated grass dragging me along like a rag doll.  She boisterously jumps up and down on all fours at her newfound prey, and I am now dotted with mud from head to toe.

I give up.  I’ve had enough. Mile or not, atrophied muscles or not, I’m done. I pull her along the trail towards the car, rain now coming down in sheets and barely make it to my vehicle as I hear thunder clapping in the distance.  Bella happily jumps into the car, I follow, and she immediately shakes again and sprays the whole car with wet and mud. “Excellent…” I mutter.  I drive home with the stink of wet dog permeating the air as Bella sticks her big square head between the seats to help navigate the road with me. The stench is so bad, I can hardly breathe. She turns toward me and gives the side of my face a big, wet kiss.  “AARRGGHH! Thanks, Bella,” I say as I pat her soaking wet head, “Glad you had fun.”

Here’s hoping the sun will come out tomorrow…

GO OUT DANCING THIS WEEKEND…IT’S IMPORTANT!

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I got to thinking about what type of person I would have pictured meeting and greeting visitors at the luxurious main reception desk of a huge, new, metropolis hospital I stopped at last week.

A:  a poker-faced security guard

B:  a straight-laced, no-nonsense elderly woman with her hair up in a bun and glasses way down on her nose

C:  a hip, pretty young chic with perfect hair, makeup and manicured nails smiling seductively

D: or how about a cheerful, late 50-something gentlemen with a sunny disposition, a chipper Morgan Freeman-type voice and a twinkle in his eye?

The answer, of course, turned out to be: D.

As I waited in the reception area to pick someone up, I had the pleasure of witnessing a real angel in action. His mission seemed to be sprinkling good cheer and laughter to anyone who crossed his path.

Everyone who worked there seemed to know him, and he knew most of them by name along with little details about them.  “Well, good morning to you, Doc,” he sing-songed to a tired-looking doctor in surgical gear.  “You go home and have a wonderful day.  Play ball with that little boy of yours. And don’t forget to get some rest.”

“Oh, now, let me take a look at that handsome little gentleman,” he said to the new mom and dad taking their newborn baby home. He walked out from behind the desk, and I noticed his pronounced limp. I wondered what he’d been through. Whatever it was, it hadn’t affected his demeanor.  “He’s going to bring you lots of joy,” he continued. “ I’m going to see my grandson this weekend, and I can’t wait.”

“And how can I help you get to where you need to go?” he asked a bewildered-looking older man coming to visit his sick wife.  He then gave the man explicit directions to her room and repeated them again so the man would get it right.

“The cafe is right over there,” he directed two younger girls looking for the cafeteria. “They make the most delicious desserts. Be sure to treat yourselves!”

His upbeat attitude was infectious – nothing but sweet and nice and positive and kind.  It was hard not to smile as I watched him interact with those around him.  One woman giving her visitor’s pass back said to him, “You have made this whole trip to the hospital so much more enjoyable.  I am so glad to have met you.”  He tipped his imaginary hat and said, “Thank you, kindly, madamYou just made my whole day!”

“Go out dancing this weekend…its important!” he called out to two stiff-looking salesmen in three-piece suits as they rushed past his desk.  They paused and looked over their shoulders at the neatly dressed receptionist who was grinning from ear to ear.  They actually cracked smiles and their faces didn’t even break!

I never even got his name, but I waved to him as I left.  He broke out into a huge grin and said, “Now promise me you’ll enjoy this perfect day!”  I promised him I would.

So, I’m thinking I might go out dancing this weekend…it’s important…how about you?

THE CHOICE IS YOURS

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The way to happiness:

  • Keep your heart free from hate, your mind from worry
  • Live simply, expect little, give much
  • Fill your life with love
  • Scatter sunshine
  • Forget self, think of others
  • Do as you would be done by

 The way to unhappiness:

  • Keep your heart full of hate, your mind with worry
  • Live extravagantly; expect much, give little
  • Fill your life with irrelevant stuff
  • Scatter gloom
  • Dwell on self, forget others
  • Do only for your own good

The only thing you’ll hold in your hands when you pass is that which you gave away.

YES, GROWING UP SUCKS

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A young person I was talking with the other day told me she was having a quarter-life crisis (she is not quite 30).  I asked what she meant.  She said she was tired of all the responsibilities she had and wanted to move home and have her mom take care of her again – do her laundry, make her dinner, etc. I understood that this was just a passing whim of hers since her life basically is pretty sweet and I knew tomorrow would be a better day for her. But what I really felt like saying was, “Yes, dear, growing up sucks.”

Who doesn’t feel that way at times? I know I do, although mine is more of a post mid-life crisis, and moving back with my mom is no longer an option. Life does get boring and monotonous and laden with responsibilities, and I can understand how you would want to walk away and return to the coziness, warmth and responsibility-free home of your childhood. Understood.

My own life has taken some crazy twists and sharp turns and where I’m at is nowhere near where I dreamed I’d be way back in my quarter-life crisis years. I was supposed to be living in Topanga Canyon,California far away from the maddening crowd with my main squeeze Keith Carradine. He was supposed to be strumming his guitar and singing me sweet love songs as we sat sipping wine barefoot on our candlelit deck overlooking the lush landscape leading down to the Pacific Ocean.  (deep breath) My fantasies, by the way, are excruciatingly vivid.

But instead of sipping wine with Keith, I sit here in the kitchen/office trying to figure out how to pay bills, how to get another job at an age when I should be thinking retirement, how to keep life interesting when nothing interesting is happening and how to stop feeling like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. The only thing I can think of in answer to these quarter/mid/post-mid life crisis’s is to keep putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time and keep moving forward and doing those daily yet vital chores one at a time until they’re done. That’s life. Fact.

Maybe tomorrow a miracle will happen to make it all worthwhile and wonderful and bring you more happiness than your heart can possibly hold. Warm and fuzzy usually works for me. Or you can dye your hair red and hope you’ll have more fun that way.

RUN TOWARDS IT

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~That thing that scares you the most – that makes you say

~“I don’t know if I can do this”

~”I’m so scared to try”

 ~ Run towards it

    ~Because you’ll find it’s so amazing on the other side.

This is what Sherri Shepherd, co-host of The View, said when she was eliminated from Dancing with the Stars this week. She was afraid to try something like this that was so outside of her comfort zone, but she did it anyway and was grateful for the opportunity and experience.

It hit me hard as I apply this to my own circumstance, which is being unemployed.

Finding a job these days is as challenging as wrestling an alligator. I don’t need to tell anyone that – just look at the unemployment numbers.  And I am at a precarious point in my life where I’m too young to retire but feel like I’m too aged to start over. I feel like I’ve lost some of my stamina and my self-confidence has been compromised. I second guess my abilities as I look over so many job descriptions. I find myself thinking…I can’t do this….I can’t do that…I don’t have the education…I don’t have that kind of experience…I’m too old…I’m not qualified enough…even though deep down I know I can and do have the education and experience and qualifications and my age is just a number.  I just have to keep telling myself that I can.If you are also unemployed in this ridiculously trying job market, you understand that it is easy to be scared and difficult to run towards something you’re not sure of when it does present itself.  Especially when you find that courage to do so only to experience the deafening silence of no response. It’s like a dead zone wherein you feel like you’re invisible. And you wait and wait but then find the strength to go on and try again knowing one of these days you’ll hit pay dirt.  Trying again is the secret and you have to venture out into the unknown once more.

I know there are millions of people like me out there right now – hunting for that ideal (or not so ideal) job that will make them feel whole again and put back the spring in their step – just like Sherri.  So, like her, I will be brave enough and try something new – something I’m scared to try.  I just need the opportunity, and I will run towards it knowing it will be amazing on the other side.

JUST KEEP TRUSTING

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Sometimes the best thing

you can do is not think,

not wonder, not imagine, not obsess,

just breathe

and have faith that

everything will work out

                       for the best                         

Author Unknown

As we prepare for our Easter celebration, each in our own traditional way, each of us carrying our own crosses of worry, remember to let go and let God.  Easter Sunday will dawn with a new day and new hope in the promises of Jesus Christ. All you have to do is hang on through the night and just keep trusting…Happy Easter.

 

Our traditional Easter Bunny

Our traditional Easter Bunny

WHEN IS ENOUGH, ENOUGH?

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 When I first heard about the killing of 16 Afghans, including nine children, by a 10-year Army veteran, my heart dropped. I was shaken by the thought that a member of our military force could perform such a heinous act of terrorism. How could this be when his duty is to keep peace? But then I heard more of his story…

…Robert Bales is a 38-year-old highly decorated staff sergeant in the American Army and also a devoted husband and father. He had been wounded several times on multiple tours of duty in Iraq. Two days before the shooting, a friend of  his, another soldier, had his leg blown off  by a roadside bomb. He didn’t witness the explosion but saw the aftermath. Other troubles weighing on this man’s mind were a Florida investment job that went sour, his Seattle-area home was condemned as he struggled to make payments on another, and he failed to get a recent promotion. Everyone has problems, I know, but this is what really got me:  This was his fourth deployment…this man was deployed four times. Fourth Tour. When is enough, enough?!  How much can one person take?  What kind of pressure is the government putting on our military forces that they’re pushed to the brink of destruction through sheer physical, mental and emotional fatigue? I heard a news report that he wasn’t happy about the fourth deployment but accepted it as part of his duty. What is the duty the government has to these servicemen and women?

Someone I know commented that the same forces are deployed over and over again because we do not have enough manpower.  Well then, get out of Afghanistan.  Get out of  the Middle East.  Stop senselessly sending our people over there time and time again until they just can’t take it anymore. 

I am not a political person and have no idea what the circumstances or conditions are in Afghanistan. I’m not saying Sergeant Bales should not have repercussions for what he did ~ if, in fact, he’s proven to be guilty of this crime which hasn’t been decided yet. I understand that there is a price to be paid, and if proven guilty, he’ll be paying the price for the rest of his life as will his family. Everyone’s life in this man’s circle of  family and friends has been drastically changed. A family man serving his country is now barricaded in a military prison and will stand trial, and his family is sequestered for their own safety in a military compound. What a difference a day makes…

I’m not pretending to be a psychiatrist who can analyze what triggered this tragedy of 16 lives that were senselessly taken. What I am saying is that I think for Sergeant Bales enough was enough. And I also think that those who decided he should do a fourth tour should also be held accountable, and they should use this incident as a barometer for their future recommendations.

A Tisket, a Tasket…

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I saw a commercial recently wherein they asked a few little kids what Easter meant to them. One little boy said:  “Well, my Grandmom likes Jesus, so she gives me a chocolate cross.”

I like Jesus, too, and so did my Mom, so as a kid I also got a chocolate cross in my Easter basket every year.  It was usually white chocolate, my favorite at the time. I would hold off eating it until everything else was devoured, for what reason I’m not sure.  Maybe in a way I was saving the best for last. I was a pushover for all those once-a-year goodies like coconut nests with jelly bean eggs, coconut cream eggs with a yellow “yolk” middle, chocolate bunnies and hens, malt balls shaped into colorful eggs and jelly beans galore, including my favorite – black licorice flavored.  I’m drooling as I write this.

Easter meant getting a new little outfit to wear along with a hat of some sort, white gloves and frilly white anklet socks. (Yes, I was such a priss.) One year when I was about seven, I wore a pale green derby that matched a little green pleated skirt and jacket. I was thrilled with it and wore it all day since it looked like a very proper English horse riding outfit and horses were my passion at the time.

Easter meant sunny warm weather, the sweet smell of hyacinths and bright yellow forsythia bushes in bloom. It was sneaking that first taste of a chocolate bunny before Mass after a Lenten season of “giving it up.”  It was a yummy dinner of ham and kielbasa with homemade babka with fresh butter and potato salad. It was sitting outside on the steps of my grandparents’ row home in the Polish section of Trenton afterwards with my cousins playing games we made up.

Easter meant family all together with good food, fun with my cousins, laughter, lots of love and a white chocolate cross to remind you that Jesus likes you, too.

TELL YOURSELF THAT IF IT HELPS

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I collect quotes, often running for paper and pen to capture words in the middle of a TV show or movie or while reading a book or magazine. I like to ponder their meaning and see if it’s a “zen” message I need to apply to my life. Recently during one particular TV show, a woman was explaining to an ex-lover she had run into the reasons why their relationship would never have worked.  “My job was too time-consuming, you travel too much, my family is difficult to get along with, your habits drove me crazy, blah, blah, blah,” on and on she went with her litany of excuses, damn right well knowing that they were still in love and always had been and always would be.  He looked her straight in the eyes and simply said, “Tell yourself that if it helps.”  Boom!  Thanks for shooting straight, buddy.

How many times have we, too, told ourselves stuff that was fluff in order to get by and go on, trying to make sense out of ridiculously challenging situations?

 

Fluff: “Well, the divorce rate is 60%. Everyone gets a divorce these days. People just don’t stay together anymore.”

Straight:  The ex was a lying, cheating coward.

 

Fluff:  “The economy is getting better – the unemployment rate is going down.”

Straight:  Really?  Is that why gas is almost $4 a gallon and finding a job these days takes a magic act by David Copperfield?

 

Fluff:  “Endings are just beginnings.”

Straight:  Let’s face it, when it’s a truly shit time, then it’s going to be a truly shit time.

 

Fluff:  “When one door closes another one opens.”

Straight:  Sometimes it gets better; sometimes it gets worst.  Sometimes you have to tie a knot at the end of your rope and just keep hanging on until the wind blows in another direction.

 

Fluff:  “Leap and the net will appear.”

Straight: Sometimes you have to let go and begin again.  

 

Fluff:  “The sun will come out tomorrow.”

Straight:  Whatever gets you through the night…keep telling yourself that if it helps.