Notes 2 Grow

Amazing

2011-02-12T03:56:00Z

"And in today already walks tomorrow." ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

We have piled in to the hotel, exhausted, after a day full of simulated world saving discussions. The fifth graders that I'm chaperoning, my daughter and her friend, have just spent nine hours participating in our state-wide model United Nations conference. They studied the slum situation in Rwanda and other countries and proposed a solution for fixing this epidemic. Fifth graders.
I sat for the last few hours in the Model UN Security Council. As a military wife, this council in the real world discusses matters that greatly impact my life. Today's discussion was terrorism, terrorists returning to their society and nuclear weaponry in the middle east. These are discussions that take place over my morning coffee with my military husband, before our children wake up. The profound nature of these issues ultimately follow him into work. These issues indirectly follow me in to work as well. The resolutions to these issues (created by middle and high schoolers) were well thought out, discussed and written. And in the end, these resolutions were fictitiously passed.
Witnessing this unfold I couldn't help but express how amazing an opportunity this is for our children. What other country allows the replication of resolution creation and peace treaty making by our children? What kind of country invests this time and energy into their youngest of young and helps them to believe that their voice matters? An Amazing Country. Our Amazing Country.
A friend of mine, a retired Soldier, put it all into perspective when I said this country is amazing. Without missing a beat he said, "Amazing enough to die for."
And it is........
Amazing to watch my children grow up in the land of opportunity,
Amazing to watch as the American leaders of tomorrow work all day to resolve some of the worlds hardest issues,
Amazing to know that 1% of this incredible population have sworn to protect and defend these freedoms we enjoy.
America
Amazing

The Strength of the Team

2010-10-28T08:46:00Z

It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.~ Charles Darwin

I have found myself in an incredible position recently and it dawned on me that I should have expected this to happen. My last year, actually three, but specifically the last year has been dedicated to motivating, encouraging, supporting and championing a team of professionals who do extraordinary things. This team is dispersed across the country and imbedded in a mission field dedicated to the lives and wellbeing of military families in various stages of deployment or activation. This is a mission field. This is a place of struggles and triumphs, of chaos and success, of friendships and families and work that will stand the test of time.
I've stood on the sidelines of this incredible team, encouraging, coaching, calling plays, wiping sweat, lifting spirits. It has been an awesome task that has taken all of my focus and energy and felt so very right at this stage of my life.
Most recently, we have incorporated a larger team together and I've been put in charge of this merged group. Change is necessary, and exciting, and has the potential to help everyone better their game. I've seen change play out so perfectly on sports teams when new players come in and really fill the holes of the existing team to make them complete. Change is also daunting and exhausting and unnerving. I've seen change cripple a team because the dynamics of the new group just never really gel.
This merged team, this change, now just barely a month old has been a huge undertaking. In an effort to learn the new players, incorporate the two groups, realign the plays and balance the group dynamic, I've worn myself out. I've loved every minute of it, but I've also internalized the stress and magnitude of the moment.
As the team takes shape and the kinks get worked out, we are hitting a fantastic groove. With this start of the next phase of the group, some of my original team have come to me, especially in the past few days, to remind me of the things I have always said from the sidelines. "Take care of yourself", "We are strong and mighty", "Change is good". It is as if they realized I'm waning a little. It is as if they sensed that I needed a seat on the bench for a second, a splash of cold water and a wipe of a towel. It is as if they sensed that I needed my own pep talk. I am thankful for this team and for their intuition and dedication to not only caring for their families but also for me. With this encouragement I am humbled and honored and lifted up by the strength of the team.

Wild Pitches

2010-07-20T21:14:00Z

"Life will always throw you curves, just keep fouling them off... the right pitch will come, but when it does, be prepared to run the bases." ~Rick Maksian

Today is a Tuesday that feels alot like a Monday, although yesterday's Monday was a heck of a Monday in it's own right. There is no full moon, there is no change in the barometric pressure, there is no easy sign to explain why the past two days have played out the way they have. They just have.
I knew it by 10am yesterday when the second wild pitch was thrown my way. These are those proverbial things at work and life that come out of nowhere, whiz by your head and make you look around to find where they are coming from. We all have wild pitches. The crazy email, the unexpected bill, the odd question from the child, the rant on the other end of the phone you wish you didn't answer.
In baseball, those wild pitches are meant to scare the hitter off of home plate. The wild pitch screams past the hitters face at almost 100mph and you can imagine there is a flight or fight mentality that kicks into play. This happens in life too. Wild pitches are thrown and you find your blood pressure rising, your curse words being reborn, your whole plan for the day thrown out of whack. I have two choices when wild pitches start in on my day; I either walk away from the game at hand or I get back into the batters box and give it another swing.
I'm the get back into the box kind of player. Yesterday, after a few wild pitches, I readjusted myself, looked around, focused on the game at hand and stood back in the box. That's just what I do. By the end of today, after more wild pitches and some unexplainable moments in the game of the last two days, I hit one out of the park.
This takes practice. This takes maturity. This takes confidence in knowing that I'm supposed to be right here. Let those wild pitches fly, let those crazy days come as they will. I've seen a lot in this game of life, and I'm more than ready to step up and play.
Batter up.....

Having it All

2010-05-18T10:02:00Z

"Everything in moderation, including moderation." ~Author Unknown

I distinctly remember watching Oprah before my oldest child turned 3 and having her look straight at the camera, directly at me, and say, "You CAN have it all, just not all at once." These words of wisdom have since repeated in my head weekly if not daily. I'm an energetic, driven and motivated woman. I've always believed I could change the world. The older I get, the more I realize that I can have all of my dreams come true if I'm willing to balance my life and accept moderation in other areas.
When I was in college over two decades ago, staying up late to complete a project was torture and never worked out well. I wasn't the library type, I wasn't the planner type, I wasn't the get my work done ahead of time type. Those late night "Hail Mary's" to finish work hurt, physically hurt. I'm back in college now getting my master's degree and last night I found myself finishing a paper in the 11th hour. It definitely wasn't my best work and I'm not looking forward to the grade that I will receive, but my paper was complete and met all of the requirements that were set for it and it was turned in on time. It is halfway through the completion of my degree and this is my first transgression into mediocrity.
Oprah told me I could have it all; the storybook marriage, the beautiful family, the athletic and fit life, the perfect tidy home, the world renowned cupcakes, the nurtured garden, the hobbies that feed my soul, the volunteer work that serves my community, the incredibly successful career, the continued lifelong learning, the authorship, the serenity ~ she was clear that it would have to be in waves.
My waves lately have been worth riding. This weekend, when I could have been writing that paper, I dedicated two days to sewing a colonial dress from scratch with our ten year old daughter. It lays on the table, a beautiful testimony to time invested, waiting for the zipper which I'll sew today. No doubt, when she wears it to dance the minuet on Thursday, my paper will be the farthest thing from my mind. Yesterday, when I could have whipped up that paper in a few hours, I chose to attend a baseball game with our teenaged son. Three hours of uninterrupted chatter and laughter and silence, sitting next to my hunk of a baby boy; countless discussions with the ticket holders around us about how this young man couldn't possibly be mine; the glorious feeling of doing the wave in the crowd next to a person I'm so incredibly proud of made my paper seem not too significant.
The storybook marriage? it's at 95%, with us striving for those last 5. The beautiful family? Most days. The athletic and fit life? ahhh, hit and miss. The perfect tidy home? sort of but only because of hired help. The world renowned cupcakes and nurtured garden? Contracted out. The hobbies that feed my soul? who needs em? Everything else is almost here or on the list for the coming year.
The promise of having it all at some point, and having what I have for now is a blessing for me. The way I see it ,these waves are worth riding and watching for. It's a good thing.

The Volunteers

2010-04-22T00:37:00Z

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world." ~Anne Frank

I was greeted the other morning with a surprise when I picked up the newspaper. In the garden islands of my yard stood three beautiful perfectly red volunteer flowers. Not together, in three separate spots, but so perfectly placed. These flowers were not in the garden last year. I am not so sure which types of flowers they are but I know they are exactly what was needed in those islands.
I'm sure the previous owner planted those flowers years ago and the recent harsh winter revived their passion to grow. The point is they volunteered themselves to be there.
I remember the first time my mother called a flower a volunteer. It sounded so funny. We were in North Carolina and I was in Kindergarten. Because of the school systems back then, I was in a half day kindergarten and she picked me up for the afternoons. Those afternoons together were spent jarring vegetables and fruits from the garden, riding horses, and planting plants. We would walk the vast acres of our country home and mom would tell me all about the flowers. One day we stopped and she pointed at a perfect flower and told me it was a volunteer. Somehow, by some miracle, this flower had found it's way here to our garden and it was special. We didn't know we needed it there but it knew it was needed.
I had long forgotten that moment until the other morning when I looked up with the paper in hand and saw my volunteers. They stopped me in my tracks. Absolutely beautiful.
That is how volunteers work. When you least expect them, when you have no idea that you could ask for more, they are there. The perfect answer to the question you haven't asked. Volunteers know exactly where to place themselves. Volunteers fit in where they are planted. Volunteers jump in and complete the picture as if they have been a part of our grand scheme from the beginning.
Volunteers are a gift.

"The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit." ~Nelson Henderson

Stammtisch

2010-04-13T10:25:00Z

"No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow." ~Lin Yutang

When you walk into most German restaurants you will be greeted by a table near the front that has a sign on it, "Stammtisch". This is loosely translated into "regular's table" and is the one place where only the regulars sit. If you have the luck of entering the restaurant while the "Regular's" are there, you will be greeted by a glance, maybe a nod, sometimes a Hallo, but always the sound of friends sitting together and sharing their day.
I loved to marvel as the Stammtisch filled with regulars pouring in after work. The friends would embrace, there was a comraderie there that was beautiful and the conversation was so animated. I always wanted to be part of the Stammtisch.

Part of being a military family means that you are always saying goodbye to something. Your friends are moving, or you are moving, or the unit is moving or the civilians are moving. Your children's friends move, your neighbors move. The regulars are always changing. The good thing about military families is that we learn how to reset quickly, because time with friends is normally short.

The time for my family has come when the moving is done. We have decided on this place to build the next stage of our lives. We have found our town.
Our town means that we have our favorite restaurants and know the names of the waitstaff. Our town means that we are watching as families are made, marriages are started, babies are growing up. Our town means we know when football season starts and ends, we know the team colors, we look forward to the next crop of players. Our town means you can't run into the store without seeing someone you know. Our town means that opening day of baseball season is not just the thrill of entering the ballpark after a long off season, it is seeing those you sit beside, knowing the sound of your favorite beverage guy, meeting his girlfriend, looking forward to seeing your sections ticket attendant and sitting in your seats. It is the familiarity of being in a place you have come to know as home, just like laying your head on your favorite pillow and basking in the normalness of what right feels like.
I am finally part of the Stammtisch and it feels better than I ever imagined it would.
Just like coming home.

Tell Me When

2010-02-23T11:58:00Z

Drag your thoughts away from your troubles... by the ears, by the heels, or any other way you can manage it. ~Mark Twain

You have to wonder what the powers that be are telling you when a blog is written and then eaten by cyberspace never to be seen again.
That is what happened with the original "Tell me When", which I slaved over and shed tears writing and then lost on one of my most frustrating mornings. How ironic that it was the blog which expounded on all the things I was looking forward to being over and all that I've endured that I wanted put to rest.
The truth is, I'm a volunteer. Always have been, always will be. Once you get settled into a community and begin to volunteer, people learn to seek you out. This isn't always a good thing. Just like Mikey would always try something new in the 70's, you can count on Pam to volunteer to do it if nobody else will. That is what drove me to "Tell Me When".
I wanted to know when the coast would be clear and I could once again have my life back.
My friend calls my illness "Helium Hand". This is what occurs when someone says, "Who wants to?". My hand raises like a bunch of balloons on a beautiful spring day. "I'll do it".
I'll do it leads to months of planning for a huge event, which I had no business being a part of. I'll do it leads to me waking early every morning to pursue my masters degree because someone wanted to give me a grant for my education. I'll do it means I've committed to sewing not one but two quilts before May graduation. I'll bake the cookies, I'll shuttle the kids, I'll do the thank you notes, I'll take the baskets home, I'll deliver the table, I'll input the data, I'll train the other volunteer. You get my drift.
But today, after the event is over, after the large paper that was due for school is turned in, after I had a glorious hour to walk on the beach with my love because other things could wait, I'm thankful.
Life is crazy. Life is chaotic. Life is breakneck and reckless and filled with purpose. That is what happens when you live the life of a volunteer.
I started out wanting someone to tell me when this busyness would be over so I could go on with my life. Thanks to a computer who ate that blog, the answer is already here. That busyness is my life and it is rich.
The way I see it, there is no other way to live.

Soaking Them In

2010-02-07T11:17:00Z

"I think your whole life shows in your face and you should be proud of that." ~Lauren Bacall

I have found that there are days when my mind wants to freeze the moment and save a mental picture of the people I am with inside my heart. These days naturally occur when you have a loved one who has profoundly touched you. The first day of each of our children's lives, the day I said "I do" to my husband, the friends who have been by my side during the hard and great times. These days also occur when you know your time is short. When my mother's cancer returned and was incurable, I spent days reading to her and looking at her sleeping face in the sun. My mind knew that my heart needed to forever remember her face.
Times like these sometimes catch us off guard. A few weeks back I was at a conference with a slice of my team to provide conference support. Everyone knew this week would be a busy one and potentially full of chaos and stress. They all signed up. Tasks were delegated, systems were put in place and the week went off without major issue. We had only fleeting moments when we could sit and talk together and those were precious. On the last night before we all traveled home, there was a time where everyone shared their best practices with each other. When the first team member stood and began to talk, that feeling washed over me.
"Soak them in...."
"Your heart demands it"
Remember these faces...."
"These are important people to you"
Thank goodness I was in a dark part of the conference room because I can only imagine what that mental exchange looked like. As they talked, each one of the team, and the ones sitting and listening, I watched. Their beautiful faces lit up with passion for their jobs. Their voices as they spoke about the people they serve. Their laughter as they connected with each other.
Long before my mind registered how invested I had become in this team, my heart knew and it demanded an imprint.
So, I soaked them all in and now that we are working so far away from each other I have them here in my heart.
They are in my mind's eye and I am blessed.

P.S. To my incredible team, thank you. You are amazing people doing extraordinary things in a world that so desperately needs you. Thank you for your dedication and passion. I am incredibly honored to be a part and you have impacted me greatly.

How to Save a Life

2010-01-21T08:38:00Z

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." ~Dr. Seuss

     I am officially at the age where our oldest child doesn't listen to me anymore. The minute I begin to impart wisdom and knowledge I can see the door to his brain shut and his eyes glass over. I don't know when this happened, but I'm so thankful I saw it coming.
     I knew he would stop hearing me sooner or later so I laid traps. Well, they aren't really traps, per say, as much as they are wise trusted adults that are strategically placed in his path that he does listen to. They are his teachers, his best friends parents, and many family friends who stand at the ready to guide and mentor him.
     Most recently, our teenager has been coming home and imparting the wisdom of his health teacher who also was his first football coach. He exhorts us about our caloric intake, the teen preaches about salt and carbs and the importance of the largest meal being lunch, he tsk tsks at me when I grab a piece of chocolate. Thanks to Coach, our son is eating better and more conscious of his fitness level. Never mind that I have been saying the exact same thing for over a year. The teen doesn't listen to me, but he does listen to Coach and for that I'll be forever thankful.
     Over a year ago I met a gentleman at a training who was a friend of a friend. His daughter was in her last year of high school and had fallen into the wrong crowd because of a boyfriend. This man was worried for his daughter and had hoped I could talk to her, be a listening ear and a mentor. She mentioned at one point to her dad that military service interested her and he felt my military understanding as a spouse would draw her to me because she no longer listened to her parents advice. He also hoped that as the mother of children I'd be an ally in his camp, one of those "traps".
He was sure he would lose her if something didn't happen soon. I gave him my business card and he promised she would call.
     The call came yesterday. Out of the blue, my phone rang and the voice on the line was his daughter. She is in another state, far from home, and realizing that what her parents said may just be right. We talked about how she is, we talked about where she wants to go in her life and we talked about how to get her there. Most of all I listened.
The last thing she said before we planned to talk again was that she had kept my card and that she was so happy she did.

When I hung up the phone I looked over at my teenager and two other precious children and thanked the Good Lord for Coach and the many others in their lives. Listening and being there, even when you least expect it, that is how you save a life.

Swinging Through

2009-12-27T12:07:00Z

"Excellence is not a skill. It is an attitude." ~Ralph Marston

I love watching the show about "Diners, Drive Ins and Dives" on the food channel. The host, Guy Fieri, has the fantastic job of scouring the country looking for the best food in diners, drive ins and dives. On the last episode I watched, Guy had found this amazing hole in the wall joint on the West side of Chicago. Guy ate his way through the menu, pot roast open faced sandwich, turkey BLT, and even the donuts with mocha dip. Every step of the way we were able to see how things were made and then get to watch as patrons and Guy just melted over every bite. At one point, Guy looks at the chef/owner and says, "You swing through every pitch!". What a complement!
In the game of baseball, when you are the hitter, your primary job is to connect the ball with the bat. The pitcher pitches the ball and you hit it and then run. I believe it is natural for us to visualize the spot where the ball and the bat will meet and then try to make that exact connection happen. As the ball flies in over the plate, we swing to meet it. That is the goal, after all, to hit the ball. The true greats, though, know that the magic is when you see beyond that point of contact. The true greats know that swinging through the pitch means knocking the ball into the outfield. If you perfect the swing, you hit the ball with a greater force and you send it flying over the outfield wall. The difference is in seeing just the connection of the ball to the bat, or of considering the hit as a whole with everything you have ~ power, timing and technique.
Our Chicago diner chef saw every recipe, every plate, every sandwich with everything he had and in doing so he swung for the fence. You could see it in the faces of the patrons at his tables, their eyes dancing with delight. You could see it in Guy's face as he bit into every meal he tried. Whether we are at home plate, the drawing board or the cutting board, we can all swing through and visualize the outfield wall. It isn't enough to just make contact. Excellence is about reaching for the fences.
Today, I'm working on my swing, and I'm keeping my eyes on that outfield. Nothing less will do.

The Golden Ball

2009-12-24T13:08:00Z

" A hundred years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove... but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child." ~ Anonymous

We were shopping in one of those mega stores the other night, you know the ones, floor to ceiling stocked with all of the items you see that you have to have on tv. The lighting is appealing, the smell of the place is appealing, the layout of things is appealing, it feels like a panacea to all things that are wrong in the world when you are in this type of store. I'm wise to these places though, and I had already briefed my husband, daughter and aunt when we hit the parking lot. "We are going in for our coffee brand, the holiday special ones, and nothing else. It will be a quick operation, don't be lured by all of the stuff in the aisles." I said.
That worked for about fifteen minutes. We rounded the candle corner, (which smelled like fresh baked cookies, darned them), and found our coffee. We loaded our arms and started to walk away when a cute, chipper salesgal brought us an oversized shopping cart. "You'll want this for all of that coffee", she said. My inner voice was screaming, "NO!", because free hands can pick up more stuff, but the glimmer in the eyes of my husband, daughter and aunt as they dropped the boxes of coffee showed that it was obvious they could care less about my inner voice.
So shop we did. Deeper into the store we went, where the riches of all the things we don't need were so abundant. The new bedding, the soft towels, the knickknacks and pictures and goodness no, the quotes in frames. We were three fourths of the way out of the store when we came upon a display of oversized bouncy balls. Immediately, my husband and daughter began bouncing them. The box did say it would bounce up to 50 feet, and I saw my husband judge the ceiling height and deem it possible, so bounce they did. The minute the balls began to climb, the chorus of "We have to have one" began. I was doomed. So I waited. Maybe if they would bounce them here in the store they would get it out of their system and see the ridiculous nature of wanting to buy a $7 ball. maybe if I stood here long enough they would return those balls to the display case and we could get out with the original purchase plan in tact.
Maybe, I thought, (as I stood there trying to be patient) maybe I should just grab the one with the golden glitter in it and start bouncing it myself. In the middle of the display sat this beautiful hand sized ball with golden glitter and liquid inside. The glitter all settled to the bottom, it just begged to be played with. So I bounced. As I bounced the ball the glitter shook and danced and shined and the ball just sang with beauty.
We bought five balls, one for each child's stocking and one for each of our offices, my husbands and mine. Mine , surprise, is the gold one.
The golden ball sits on my desk for those moments when I need to think. It bounces well while I sit in my chair, when I throw it in the air and spin it, the glitter shines. It is therapeutic, it is glorious, it is fun!
Several days ago, when work ran late into the evening and I had lost track of time, my youngest child came into my office and quietly picked up the golden ball. Without me knowing, he laid on the floor next to my desk and rolled the ball to my feet. Once it hit my ankle I looked down and then over to realize that he lay there, with puppy dog eyes and a wry smile.
Without a word, I rolled the ball back. For a glorious undetermined amount of time, I played ball with the baby of the family. We laughed, we talked, we tried to outwit each other, all the while keeping the golden ball shining. When he was done, he stood up, came to my chair and gave me a really big hug. Then just as quickly as he came in he put the ball down and he walked out.
There will always be days when the original plan is the best one to stick to. There will always be days when a schedule is a good thing and staying on track is necessary. But the beauty of it all lies in the ability to take a break, enjoy the moment, seize the opportunity, be there for those you love and for goodness sakes ~ Play.
The golden ball, and the baby of the family, they are calling for me ~ and today, that is really what matters most.......

Facing the Music

2009-11-04T13:56:00Z

All problems become smaller if you don't dodge them but confront them. ~William F. Halsey

The school librarian has been stalking me. In a good way. Several months ago she mentioned that our children have confided in her about their fears of their father leaving again. She used to be married to a military man and her compassionate heart and wonderful listening has been a true blessing to my kids. I thanked her for her friendship to the children and reaffirmed the hardships that they have experienced at such a young age. Then I kept walking. I really try not to have time for her because I don't like crying in public, plus it doesn't fit into my schedule to deal with the deployments that are so very two years ago. She is wise though, as all librarians are, and persistent and she kept stalking me.
The next encounter she asked for forgiveness as she contacted the base for insight from their librarian and had requested materials for the kids so they would be supported through their fears. She said something about how the military families at our school would benefit greatly from this support, which translated into us because we are the only military family with younger children. I thanked her for the hard work and continual consideration and then rushed off again. To cry in my car on the drive home. Because I don't want anyone to see how frustrated I am that these damned deployments still affect our family.
It wasn't until two weeks ago that I realized I have a long way to go. It was lunch time, and I had come to eat with the kids. She was there reading to the students and she nonchalantly told me that the packets from the base were upstairs, along with some books we could check out. She'd put them on the table for me. I didn't have to go look if I didn't want to. And then she said what I really needed to hear. "Military kids are special, and they need to know it." Reluctantly and alone I walked to the library. There on the table were Military Kids packets with books and a beanie baby and a video inside as well as some books to check out. "H is for Honor" and "My Daddy is a Hero" and "I'm a Hero Too". And that is when I promptly lost it. Sobbed like a baby.
The truth is, I've been running from being a military wife with my children in my proverbial arms and my family on the line, I've been running. I don't go on post because I can't stand the sight of it. I don't shop the PX or the Commissary because the lines and the queuing and the structure of it brings back some really tough memories. I don't want to see a mother and children wearily shopping and to wonder if they are in the middle of their year plus time without their loved one. I don't want to know the faces of the people who are suffering through those days. In my minds eye I carry the faces of the families that I persevered with, the families that I comforted and comforted me. The friends,moms and children who piled into my house on Thanksgiving and Christmas Days to try to make the most of the hardest times.
There are phases of grief that family members go through during deployment. Each phase is unique and each is necessary, even if you don't spend a lot of time in one phase. Somewhere between denial and acceptance I skipped through the anger phase. I know why, I didn't have the luxury of pounding my fists on anyone and I felt that too many people were watching me to see how to survive their deployment, so anger wasn't an option.
Unfortunately, and fortunately, it is time to face the music. Emotions run deep when it comes to the journey we have been on and only choosing the happy thoughts has led to a lot of pent up anger. Anger that has cut the children off from experiencing the great side of being a military family. I've got a long way to go, but I'm taking strides to get there.
The Military Kid packets had some workbooks in there that our children really have enjoyed going through. They can write their feelings and talk about their pride and frustration and they can move on with the years that are ahead. Thanks to our librarian I'm doing the same thing. Not a moment too soon.

You Have to Laugh

2009-10-14T09:49:00Z

"So many tangles in life are ultimately hopeless that we have no appropriate sword other than laughter." ~Gordon W. Allport

It was one of those weekends.
My mother in law came to town for her birthday. Almost twenty years and three children later, I'm still at the point where I want to impress her with how perfect my life can be. I want to be the perfect wife to her son, mother to her grandchildren, baker of birthday cake, keeper of the home and now successful professional. Up until Friday afternoon, I had convinced myself that I had her believing me.
Friday afternoon we are doing the "pick children up loop" and are patiently waiting in the car line for the two younger children and a friend. As we scoot the truck forward the middle child comes into view holding a multicolored monstrosity of a thing that I soon found out was a hamster cage. This is when my mother's mind went into panic. I remember signing forms at the beginning of the year, I remember middle child begging incessantly for the chance to bring the class pet home one weekend. I vaguely remember caving in. Wasn't there a "not on mother in law weekend" clause? Didn't they realize this was my biannual inspection? Just about the time I was coming up with good reasons why we could not hamster sit, the middle child spotted the car. With all of the excitement of a nine year old, she smiled and held up the cage, absolutely delirious that her name had been chosen for the hamster.
Thus began the weekend of adventure. Yes the hamster was cute, yes it was stinky, yes it poops a lot, yes we cleaned the cage - twice, yes it came to the house without back up food and bedding. Yes it only gets on the wheel in the middle of the night, yes it throws it's bedding out of the cage and I couldn't tell you how.
And YES, it escaped. On Saturday morning, two sips into my mandatory cup of coffee, my brother realized that the cage was inhabitant less. As the house slept I searched. As I searched, my precious coffee chilled. We found him, affectionately renamed "The monster", sleeping soundly behind the china buffet.
Yesterday, after safely returning the monster to school, I returned home to my mother in law and no trace of the insanity that was our weekend. We brewed our coffee, we sat around the table and we breathed a sigh of relief as only mothers can. And then we laughed.

More Than a Win

2009-09-24T10:17:00Z

"Sport strips away personality, letting the white bone of character shine through. Sport gives players an opportunity to know and test themselves." ~Rita Mae Brown

We are in that treacherous time in our house where Baseball, Softball and Football season collide. On any given night I can have somewhere to be to cheer on all three children at the same time on different fields. Recently, I was blessed to only have one game to attend and I took the Baseball and Softball players with me. It was game three of the varsity season and our oldest was dressed and ready to play. The game before had been a disappointment with our team losing and our teen not getting any playing time. After sweating in the Florida heat for a week during practice, he was upset and angry and disappointed to leave the field with his uniform unscathed.
We built up our dejected teenager and sent him back to the field with an assurance that he would play this game. His glasses were replaced with contacts and my mother's heart hoped that there wouldn't be another night of picking up the pieces. Our son did play, a lot. His contacts allowed him to see the ball so much better and he made some incredible plays out there, especially for a freshman.
The thing that meant the most was not a play so much as what happened after it. Our team kicked the ball and the opposing team returned it. Around about the 20th yard line, our son tackled the receiver and caused a fumble. His hustle and drive to stop that runner caught even me off guard. My first thought was pride and my second thought was for the mom of the kid who was now under our child on the field. He was knocked hard by our giant of a teen. In an instant, our son stood up and reached a hand down to the player he had tackled. Gripping hands, he lifted his opponent up off the ground, patted him on the shoulders and trotted off the field. Off to the Gatorade, off to the bench without a thought of his actions.
Winning isn't everything. The most important thing about being on the playing field is learning who you really are. Being on the field helps you know what you are made of. On this night, the unconscious action to pick up a man when he was down, even if his jersey wasn't the same color allowed me a beautiful insight into the young man we are raising.
The way I see it, that is a win of a whole new caliber.

Walking With Giants

2009-09-03T06:03:00Z

"If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants." ~Isaac Newton

I met some friends of a friend for dinner the other night. As luck would have it, I was invited to dinner with a friend with a promise that the woman I would meet was amazing. "You have to meet her, Pam." my friend said, "she is an incredible lady and you two will really like each other." No truer words were ever spoken.
You know when you are in the presence of greatness. From the moment we said hello, until the very last hug goodbye, I knew I needed to soak in my time with this lady and her husband. Humble and everyday people, they spoke of their daily life and their amazing experiences like anyone could have lived them. We laughed about raising kids, we joked about grandkids, we shared war stories about taking care of military families.
This couple is extraordinary. Every time they were faced with adversity, they championed a cause. Every time they found a barrier, they built a bridge. In the face of tough times, they are a beacon of hope. Amazing. Amazing.
We hear the analogies about being a lighthouse for others. We have all heard the beat of the drum to let our light shine, or to let our footprints be a map for those who follow. This very forum of writing was conceived with the notion that others can grow from the motivation of the right words. Yet something that is so easy to forget is that we all need a moment to be encouraged. Everyone needs someone to look to help them remember their potential. Everyone needs a measuring stick to keep the bar high.
I met giants the other night. My time with them was a gift from a friend. As I sat with them and walked with them, as we talked and laughed my spirit was fed. There are incredible people out there. Take the time to find them and when you do sit by their feet and learn and listen and enjoy. These moments are priceless.

Many Hands

2009-09-02T02:50:00Z

"It is a fact that in the right formation, the lifting power of many wings can achieve twice the distance of any bird flying alone." ~Author Unknown

I had a menial yet important task to do yesterday that I have done before. It was one of those things that I've done a million times before for so many different causes. We all have these moments, the folding of the tri-fold or the making of the conference folder or the stapling of the handouts. The length of the task is dependent on the number of items that are due to be dealt with.
The last time I did this task it was a four hour process because the number needed was high. Yesterday, when I started my journey it was with a few friends and an expectation of hours of work. We did what we always do, we began to talk and laugh and joke as we made our hands busy with the task at hand. This time, a team of helpers came around. First a few, then a few more. Before I knew it we were surrounded by an army of volunteers all busily working on completing our assembly line.
As I worked, I discretely soaked in the conversation around me. We talked of our families, our jobs, our experiences. We challenged each other to work quicker, we joked at the level of commitment each other had, we critiqued each other's piles of stuff. While we talked the work grew lighter and lighter. What was supposed to last hours took only minutes. For so many who came out it seemed like too little to do and some of the team looked for more to make this time last.
That is the beauty of a team. When everyone comes together with an end in sight , the journey becomes the most important thing and the destination is just a matter of when everyone gets there. The task we had became a conduit to getting to spend time together. The conversation was so refreshing that the event became so much more than initially expected.
I'm thankful for the formation of incredible people that I fly with. Thank you team for the blessing of your time and energy and for the incredible things you do!

The One with the Keys

2009-08-29T14:02:00Z

"We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future." ~George Bernard Shaw

I remember watching the tv show "One Day At a Time" that had the family who lived in an apartment complex with the service man named Snyder. Snyder was cool in the seventies; he had a mustache and wore a white t-shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve. The coolest thing about Snyder for me was the huge key chain that he had. As a child, that key chain meant he was important, that key chain meant that he was in control of everything, that key chain showed responsibility.
I wasn't given a key to the house until I was in 7th grade. It felt like my parents gave me the keys to a car the day they trusted me with a single house key. I wore it on my neck like a prized piece of jewelry.
Fast forward to the forty year old woman that I have become. That single key has become a myriad of keys, many that I have no idea where they belong to. I have key chains and lanyards, a box of keys a bag of keys and rings of keys. I have a bunch of keys that go to my mom's house, a bunch of keys that go to our townhouse and a bunch of keys that go to our new house. Just recently we contracted a POD so we could move things out for our renovation, so now I have two shiny new POD keys to lock things in. The love affair with keys is officially over.
Yesterday I gave the keys away. In an unprecedentedly crazy day we sold one house and rented one. At the first meeting I handed over all of the keys for my mom's house as well as two garage door openers. The load was lightened. In the evening we jettisoned the keys to the pool the mail box and the townhouse along with two more garage door openers. For the first time in months I came home with only two garage door openers (to our house) and a few empty key rings.
I can't help but imagine that Snyder hoped a day like this would come for him. The person holding the keys is always on call. The person holding the keys has to keep their mind about them. The person holding the keys is the go to for everyone else. The excitement of the responsibility slowly fades away to the exhaustion and realization that so many people depend on you. The high of feeling important becomes the stark reality that you are more important than you ever really wanted to be. The thought that you might be in control of everything becomes the honest reflection that as people we can control so very little.
Today, my key chain is lighter and my load is lighter too. In honor of Snyder, I'm rolling up my sleeves (minus the pack of cigarettes) and I'm putting up my feet. Somebody else is on call, I'm on break.

There is no wonder why the show was called "One Day at a Time".

In the Blink of an Eye

2009-08-08T12:10:00Z

I met my 16 month old niece this week and was able to spend a few good days with my brother and sister in law. How amazing it is to be around a little person again and to reminisce on the times when our children were so itty bitty. With every step that Emma took I could see our now almost 10 year old Tori. The cute dresses, the hair clips the eyelashes that seem to go on for days, all came pouring back.
I don't miss the stroller and the diapers and the bags of snacks and drinks and everything that babydom entails, but I cannot believe how quickly it all became a thing of the past for us. Now, it is my little girl kneeling down beside her cousin and picking up the tossed drink cup. At one point during our visit, Tori proclaimed that watching Emma is way cooler than anything on tv. I couldn't have said it better myself. In fact, there hasn't been anything on tv that is more fun to watch since children came into my life 14 years ago.
The truth is that time does go too fast. It was yesterday when I marveled at our little girl while she slept. It was yesterday that the cute jumper outfits and hair clips were amazing on her itty bitty body. Today we shop for starter bras and we anticipate when the twin bed will grow too short to hold her ever lengthening legs. Just this morning I stared at her with her feet hanging out under her blanket and her body all askew on her bed and wondered how she has become the young lady that she is.
The answer is just as the Pajama Diary cartoon states, it happened in the blink of an eye.

Circle of Friends II

2009-08-01T12:33:00Z

"A true friend reaches for your hand and touches your heart." ~Author Unknown

I watched friendship in action this past week. Several of us were away at a conference when tragedy hit. A friend lost a loved one under horrific circumstances and she was with us states away from home. With her were many people from her state of Oklahoma who know her family, some of which have seen her family grow. In a matter of minutes as the news broke, this team of office mates and volunteers circled their wagons. They stood in support, they filled in to make arrangements to return their friend home, they prayed.
As the week went by, the wagons stayed circled. Everyone on the team started grieving, everyone on the team kept a close watch on each other. In the comings and goings of the conference, it was easy to forget the tragedy that still engulfed this contingent of attendees. Until the final night.
As conferences go, the final dinners seating chart had it's own nuances. I was granted the opportunity to sit with Oklahoma's team at dinner and they embraced me even though I'm from another state. Pictures were taken and conversations were lively as the conference drew to a close. When the Chaplain blessed the food, he asked a special blessing for Oklahoma as they coped with the loss. The team at the tables stayed strong. Everything wrapped up with a beautiful song and a benediction. I tried not to cry through it all, overcome by the business of the week and the energy of so many amazing people in one place. I opened my eyes during the prayer to focus on the people around me and to try to keep the tears at bay.
That is when I saw it. The team of people from Oklahoma were holding hands. Heads bowed, tears flowing, gripped together. This is the way they started the week, and this is the way they were going to end it, with their wagons circled. The beauty of true friendship is just this, through good and bad, you stick together and you make it through.
I'm honored to have witnessed it.
My prayers are with you all ~ stay strong.

Ride the Ride

2009-07-21T08:17:00Z

"It's not only children who grow. Parents do too. As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours. I can't tell my children to reach for the sun. All I can do is reach for it, myself. " ~Joyce Maynard

We have been collecting a rather peculiar set of family portraits. It started with a flume ride in South Korea, with our good friends and our oldest child who was then four. The picture, captured on the ride, is of four adults and one very thrilled child, sliding down a water flume with the wind in their hair and looks of amazement and excitement. There are many of these types of pictures. Most recently, there are four with our entire family. The youngest hit a milestone this weekend by being old enough to ride every ride at the park. With much pomp and circumstance, we rode the rides. Once we finished, we headed straight to the photo shop to buy our souvenir.
You can tell a lot about our family by looking at these pictures. I'm inevitably the one with a huge smile on my face. I love the feeling of being on a ride. As the car clicks up the hill and prepares to shoot you into who knows what series of loops and curves, the knowing that whatever is about to happen is completely out of my control is a great reminder. All I can do is smile, and hold on for dear life, and keep my eyes open.
Vic is always in front. He likes to face fear head on with a smile on his face, as if to challenge it. There are no knuckles on the safety bars, there is no doubt, he is simply leading the way. Our oldest smiles too. He is subdued, sometimes he has his hands in the air, but mostly it is the look of freedom and adventure. Our middle child, the girl, always has her hands up. She will ride the ride to it's fullest every time. She is the first to want to get back on again. The middle child convinces us all that we want to keep going, then she reminds us that the picture will be priceless. The youngest of the family looks like he is saying something in every picture. When I ask him what he is saying, he inevitably tells me that is it an exclamation of joy. "This is Awesome." "Oh Yeah". I am sure he is trying out all of the words that he isn't allowed to say at home. Either way, he rides with his eyes and his mouth, wide open.
The family portraits of the subdued kind are beautiful in their own right, but I love the ones we are collecting. We are a family of adventurers. We are a family of thrill takers. We are a family that is in it for the experience and the journey, no matter where the ride takes us.