go get scared

"Do one thing every day that scares you." - Eleanor Roosevelt

I love a good quote.  In days that I can barely remember my own name in the midst of a merciless schedule, a good quote sticks, moves me and keeps me focused.  I'm sure that has something to do with how important the written word is in my life; when I see a few strung together in a particularly striking way, they have an affect, period.  The one above is a personal favorite.

Let's face it, in average days of carpooling, schedule maintenance, appointment remembering, home management and for many of us, work life, there are too few opportunities to really challenge our limits.  Days melt together, with sore butts from bleacher seating and lots of mind-wracking to get us and our loved ones to the right places at the right times.  There's little time to stand on the proverbial edge and freak ourselves out.

But last Sunday, we did.  Well, Mike actually loved every minute; I'm not sure this qualifies as a "scare" for him.  I, on the other hand, screamed and swore like a truck driver for nearly two straight hours as we rode the Tail of the Dragon through the Smoky Mountains.  Top down and flying at high speed, we experienced what I can only describe as the longest, most thrilling roller coaster ride imaginable.  Only eleven miles in length, the lead up and tail end made it feel much longer.  I was white-knuckled from beginning to end, wondering what I might look like in the professional photographs being taken all along the 11-mile stretch and if the actual explicative I was emitting would be visible on camera. 

This is the same stretch of road that my father-in-law, an expert motorcyclist, drove a few years ago.  He had an accident and miraculously only broke ribs and some pieces off his Harley.  So we knew it was dangerous territory that lied ahead.  We saw crazy wrecks, took corners at top speeds with absolutely no vision of what existed beyond the bend.  We turned 318 times, abruptly.  We flew through the most beautiful mountain forests.  We stopped three times at scenic overlooks to let a terrified minivan driver get further out in front of us, so that we could obtain the FULL EXPERIENCE. And although it might be the most irresponsible thing we could do as parents, we are considering driving home this way from North Carolina in August.  Our youth-filled, fearless kids would probably think the Tail of the Dragon is the coolest thing ever.

Imagine this at 50 mph!

Once we hit rock bottom, the metaphor of the whole experience hit home.  I was thrilled that we survived.  (Mike was just thrilled!)  I placed total trust in my Mario Andretti husband and he delivered (as if there were any doubt.)  We accomplished something totally amazing and out-of-the-box and had an experience like never before.  Even though thoroughly freaked out, we emerged victorious.

(Thanks to www.killboy.com for this awesome image!)

We must remember this feeling.  This free, we-can-do-anything-and-create-our-own-experience-in-this-life-of-ours feeling.  No one else is responsible for what we do, how we grow and what we take away.  Scaring ourselves, catapulting ourselves forward in every way, surviving our fears and then thriving?  We all need just a little bit of that.  Every day.

post mother's day blow up

Yesterday was a great day.  I felt loved, a little spoiled, immersed in a favorite past-time, and eventually, a little guilty.  However, the party is over and today is another story entirely.  On the morning following a celebration of the role I cherish most, I feel spent and sad and exhausted.  Lost homework turned into WW III, big changes have presented new and confusing challenges, this might be the busiest week of life so far, and Mom exploded on the (late) ride to school.

None of the concerns that I loudly voiced on the way to school were incorrect.  Everything was something that needed to be said.  My kids are getting older and even though they fight it, sometimes they have no choice but to rise to the challenges that face them.  If they can, I've done my job.

And I know that they will.  That somehow, just when they think they can't, they'll realize they can.  That they had the power all along, right inside.  It's my responsibility to make sure they discover that inner power as soon as possible and help them harness it to use in whatever way their dreams lead.  So, sometimes I'm tough and tell them what they need to know, once again, because it hasn't sunk in quite yet.

Then they hop from the car, obviously tired of my words, possibly feeling their sting just a bit.  As I watch their tiny (and huge at the same time) bodies walk away and into the world, my heart falls deep, deep down into a place I hate to go.   Why do I ever yell at them ever?  I just love them so much it hurts.  Literally.

I can't imagine growing up in the world that they face.  Technology and its implications beyond imagination, more pressure to succeed than ever, and growing requirements and expectations at every turn, are just some of the things they face.  And they're just little kids.  Kids who, more than anything else in the whole wide world, I just want to be happy.

I know that I'm good at this job, most of the time.  And I'm human, so I have to forgive myself the mistakes I make, just as I forgive my kids.  I mean, how can we improve if we never falter?  So here's to falling, getting back up and being better than you were before.  Every single day.

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Interested in some past Mother's Day posts?  Here are a few:

Just in Time for Mother's Day
Mother's Day Breakfast
Mother's Day 2009

my take on fifty shades

I'll just put it out there.... I've read Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James.  I've read the second one, too and I'm half way done with the third.  Curiosity got the best of me after I heard about it in every corner of my life and I just had to know what it was all about.  Then my book club adopted it this month, actually swapped it out with another read, and we discussed it last night.

All month long, I've worried that a.) my book club would think me a total pervert for suggesting it, b.) my children may suddenly peek over my shoulder and catch a glimpse at what I was reading and c.) the media concern and coverage of what many outlets are touting as disturbing is likely a total waste of air-time.

The fact is that Fifty Shades of Grey is mindless entertainment at its best.  Promoted as steamy erotica for suburban moms, Fifty Shades is exactly that and nothing more.  In my opinion, it's not disturbing or degrading in any way.  It's not the great American novel either, but it's thoroughly engrossing for sure. If anything, my curiosity is satisfied and I'm more educated and less judgmental about a consenting-adult lifestyle that I previously knew nothing about.

As someone who has never read ANYTHING like this, the initial scenes, descriptions and subject matter were a little shocking; but shocking in the same way that we like to watch steamy love scenes in movies or people wiping out on American's Funniest Videos.  No, this is nowhere near a PG-rating, but does everything need to be?

Fifty Shades was a true departure for me and everyone in our Book Club, but it was completely refreshing to experience and partake in the discussion that followed.  It's unlikely that this book is  saving marriages as I've read in the press, but I think I can say that for some, it's heating them up  and reminding us all of a time in our lives when passion, not the carpool schedule, was first and foremost on our minds.  What's wrong with that?  And discussing it with a group of friends might just be the funniest few hours I've ever enjoyed.  (Imagine quips about Fifty Shades Charades, strong pelvic floors and multi-use chip clips - it was nothing shy of hilarious!)

I've also heard concern that exposure to this book will lead women down new paths in their lives that they never intended to go.  Let's give women a little more credit.  It was interesting, fantastical, ridiculous, provocative, and a little inspiring, if I'm being honest.  But on the flip side, I have no desire to change my lifestyle as a result of this book.  I found parts of it annoying, repetitive and desensitizing, too. 

Finally, Fifty Shades does not belong in the hands of youngsters, probably not even college students - they already have enough out-of-the-box ideas and activities in their lives.  The thought of my daughters reading this in the years to come is appalling and I wouldn't recommend it until they know themselves very, very well.

Other than managing the ages of the eyes that fall upon it, Fifty Shades of Grey should not to be analyzed to death and taken so seriously.  Instead, it should be taken on vacation and devoured.  Purely for the complete departure from reality and the plain and simple fun of it.

setback

My head is killing me.  Well, not literally, but it feels like it sometimes!  It's definitely killing my joy!

My initial rush of excitement about the right meds doing the trick on this noggin of mine is starting to fade, with a sudden increase in the severe migraines that I typically only experience once or twice a year.  I've had three in the last four weeks, on top of my regular headaches, and they are not reacting to the abortive medicine, Frova, that once worked for me.  I called the doctor to today to let them know that things are sliding.  Hope to hear back soon.  I fear the word "injection" is on the horizon. 

This migraine thing is a challenge.  I feel like a complainer.  I hate saying, yet again, "Please be quiet, Mommy has a headache."  What a bore.  I really just don't want a headache.  Is that too much to ask?

The last round of information was that our current plan seemed to be working, and that I needed another EEG to see if an abnormal brain wave and low seizure threshold had corrected itself after two months of a new medicine.  Another tidbit of unwelcome news: I'm not allowed one drop of alcohol for about a year!  I'm not a big drinker, but hearing that it was totally out of the question feels a little bit restrictive.  I mean, really?  It's summertime!

As Mike and I prepare for our first weekend away in years, I'll be ordering a Perrier, I guess.  And that trip with our high school pals on the Kentucky Bourbon trail in July?  Well, that won't be quite what I imagined.  But at least the group will have a designated driver in tow.

This temporary personal prohibition really isn't a big deal.  It's the thought of a headache arriving on vacation that is worrying me sick.  I'll do anything to have a headache-free, marriage-building weekend away.  Cheers to the doctor calling soon.

Oh, and there is some good news: a new pal seems to be an expert on the best non-alcoholic beveridges around.  Can't wait to try her favorite, Buckler, St. Pauly Girl NA, and surprising top-choice, Busch NA, sometime soon!

the last bowl

I've been dreading its demise for weeks as I washed it and noticed the cracks becoming more and more apparent.  Just as the bowl's heyday moves further and further away in the rear view mirror, its existence has been threatening to do the same.  When I removed it from the dishwasher (what was I thinking?) this morning, I noticed that a few bits of food remained post-washing.  While cleaning it by hand, I saw the death-crack.  Not another chink in the armor, but a life-ending, through-and-through crack from one end to the center of the bowl.  Crud.

You see, this bowl is the last of its kind from another lifetime, a million years ago, when everything was different and all that's happened was only a dream yet to unfold.  It once belonged to a set of four Pottery Barn bowls that seems almost silly to be obsessing over, but it is so significant as a constant reminder of that special point in time.

The beautiful blonde that we met on a hot and steamy Tampa day, wearing grassy heels and cut off shorts became a partner for endless fun, our mother figure far from home and a cherished friend.  We talk to her far too seldom and have seen her even less in the last 12 years, but she's on our mind often.  Miss Debbie Carter gave us our bowls and at the time, I think they were the nicest thing Mike and I owned.  We ate nearly every meal from them and they made us feel cool, you know, Pottery Barn classy, even in our much-loved $350 per month rental house, where we barely made ends meet.

Three of our bowls were gone about four years ago; dropped or knocked off the table's edge by a playful toddler or an excited dog's tail.  But this last one, it hung on.  Until now, I've used it daily to house my giant lunch salad - it sits perfectly in my hand as I catch up on emails.  To learn it had served its purpose for the last time brought tears to my eyes.  As one of the few remaining talismans from such a memorable time in our lives, it will surely be missed. 

I know it must seem ridiculous.  But isn't it really the little things that make us who we are?  I'd never miss a piece of our china, which has been used only once in 15 years.  This bowl is a sign of where we once were, where we hoped to go, who we hoped to be and how far we've come.

It represents THIS time in our lives, which sometimes seems so long ago and at other times:  just like yesterday.

It's the definition of memorabilia and even though I'm not a saver, you can bet this chipped and pitted remnant will be placed in a box somewhere, only to be uncovered by my children or grandchildren someday.

"Why in the world would she save this?" they'll ask.

And if I'm not around to tell them, maybe my blog will.

spirit

I'm finding it difficult to find the spirit this season.  I'm not sure why.  The house looks great, all the presents have been wrapped for a week and my cookies are even baked.  I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that it looks like mid-March outside.  Gray and rainy and sort of warm - not Christmas weather.  And there's no hope for the white stuff in our forecast.  No White Christmas on its way. 

But there are three kids in this house that have spirit for us all, who can't wait to rip open the presents that sit under the tree.  I've never done that before - put presents under the tree before the big day - I think I did it this year with hopes that some spirit would exude.  And it did, for the kids. 

I loved the last episode of Modern Family on ABC, (if you don't watch it, you must) where this quirky, funny and abnormally-normal-in-every-way family rented a snow machine for their fake Christmas celebration in California.  Maybe that's what I could do?

I suppose that wouldn't do the trick either.  The Christmas spirit must come from within.  I know it's deep down in there, buried under the pressures and stresses that accompany this time of year.  Somewhere under the worries of whether or not I've bought the right gifts for the right loved ones, maybe just beyond the 200 samples of cookies I've tasted.  It could be next to the mental menus and to-do lists, concerns over paying off the gifts, excitement for a houseful of loved ones for a week or the lurking weight of upcoming tax prep and personal and business-related New Year's resolutions. 

Now that I've written that, I realize that the Christmas spirit isn't anywhere near those inevitable components of my full life, but instead resides where it always has, within my heart, within my actions.  It's in the fleeting peaceful moments spent with my kids, a stolen dinner out with Mike alone (the first in at least a year), drinking coffee in the wee hours of the morning in front of the tree in a silent, sleeping house, the backdrop of Christmas carols playing during the day, the immense, unyielding gratitude for the year passed and the endless hope I hold for the year ahead. 

It's in the deep traditions, however silly they may seem, that we give our kids each year.  From too many cookies baked, to Uncle Griff's tree, to eating waffles for dinner on the day after Christmas; these traditions are their stronghold on family and what it means to be a part of one, in every way.  Orchestrating and ensuring these traditions, this holiday, this family, is what the Christmas spirit is all about. 

Who needs snow?  I had the spirit all along. 

bruised

Sticking your neck out sucks when it doesn't work out.  But sticking your neck out is what I believe in.  I feel, with all my heart, that life is for taking chances, stretching your limits, leaving your comfort zone and above all, trying hard.  And I guess, life's about failure, too.

I can't explain the unfathomable joy and utter shock that I felt when contacted by the producers of a new show for OWN six weeks ago, who had found me through my weekly column and asked me to throw my hat into the show's casting ring.  After thinking it over and deciding if I might be a good fit, I jumped in head first and loved the excitement of filming video footage, doing Skype interviews and imagining all the possibilities that might lie ahead if it all worked out.  It was so crazy fun and thrilling, then the wait was grueling and now the end result just plain stinks.  For whatever reason, I didn't make the cut.

So, I want to cry, but just a little.  I'm now forced to give up these OWN-related possibilities, but on Thanksgiving Eve, I am very thankful for the opportunity to get outside that box of mine and imagine more for myself.  Even though it didn't work out, I still see it as a sign that I'm working within the flow my life is supposed to have; that I'm on the right track. 

Pardon my self-preservation for a second, but I can't help but think (and desperately hope) that I'll watch this show someday soon and think, "THANK GOODNESS I DIDN'T MAKE IT!" because just I wasn't a good fit for it.  I wholeheartedly believe that things happen for a reason.  Just look at all the times J.K. Rowling got shot down; ANYTHING is still possible!  Ideas have arrived and creativity birthed that might never have surfaced if this experience hadn't fallen into my lap. 

So on I go.  Bruised today - but not for long!

so it's true

I must be 40.  I mean, the other day I stopped in HomeGoods to look for a mirror for above our piano.  I quickly learned that what I want is sitting in an antique shop somewhere, not in a retail store.  Nevertheless, I looked around the rest of the place, hoping to find some clearance-priced diamond in the rough.  I did.













For $9.99 I got the absolute-coolest collapsible step stool to slide into my pantry.  For pretty much 40 years this vertically challenged gal has hunted around the kitchen dragging chairs or bar stools to the cabinet she couldn't reach, but those days are (finally) over.  There will be no more begrudged trips to the laundry room to drag out the loathed heavy and broken metal one.  Nope, this little lightweight durable cutie is all I'll ever need.

So now the reason I associate this delectable find to my age.  Years ago, I wouldn't have looked twice at this stool, would have never been bothered enough by my daily inconveniences to search out a solution.  But times have changed and this insignificant purchase leaves me feeling as if I've won a little bit of the lottery. 

I think 40 makes it easier to find the good in every day!

career day

On Wednesday, I had the opportunity to go to Logan's class and talk to the kids about writing as a career.  I was nervous that I'd struggle to gain their attention or keep them interested and did some research in order to present it in a way that would speak to them.  Some things I think I hit on the mark, while other efforts were lost on them completely.  I quickly learned that the best script means nothing, even in the hands of decent speaker, when kids are allowed to ask questions.  As soon as it began, my time with them took on a life of its own.  Here are a few of my favorite questions:

"Do you make lots of money?" (No)

"Have you written about any famous people?" (Not anyone that you'd consider famous.)

"What is your favorite type of poem to write?"  (In my dreams I sit around writing poetry, not content on Smart Analytics integration for utility companies!!)

"This is not a question, but my mom has a company that sells cute hair bows she makes.  Would you like to buy some?" (Ummm, I'll have to check that out!)

These are just a few of the fifty questions they asked.  The only one that matters was probably the one about whether or not I ever have to edit my work. We had a great conversation about why editing makes you a better writer and how ALL good writers have to do it.  It's actually one of my favorite things to do!  We also talked at length about finding a way to turn what you love, whatever it is, into a career.

And the day ended with one child asking if I ever wrote for AT&T.  Another asked about PWC.  The next about White & Associates.  Soon, every child in the classroom took their turn at asking me if I'd worked for their mom's or dad's company.  It was pretty funny.

And Logan silently smiled the whole time.

40

How did this happen?  Oh well, onward and upward!  My top 40 thanks go to...

40. opportunity knocking.
39.  movies that make me laugh and cry.
38. great quotes - i'm a sucker for inspiration.
37. the indigo girls - galileo on a road trip might be the best.
36. nature's silence.
35. family movie night.
34. finn's super duper, from the belly, silly high laugh.
33.  the feeling that i've still got it.  sometimes.
32.  my love of learning something new.
31. finishing my "homework" on friday's after school. those friday folders are a bear!
30.  logan's sweet sensitivity about all things.
29. adele. ray lamontagne. van morrison. otis redding. blues traveler. janis joplin. james taylor.
28. the ability to teleport to age 22 with a few good friends and occasionally act foolishly.
27. the appropriate level of guilt i feel after number 28.
26. the forever friendships found in all stages of life.
25. family that shows up and loves like crazy.
24. in summer - a light mocha frappuccino, double blended. in winter - a skinny vanilla latte.
23.  autumn colors.
22. riley's uncanny old soul perspective.
21. a day that starts bad, but ends great.
20. being surprised by life.
19. making a real connection.
18. cooking anything from scratch.
17. limitless reinvention.
16. the relationships I have with my brothers.
15. mike, always, but especially all the time.
14. a good haircut. and hilary, who gives it to me.
13. shopping at hot mama.
12. folding laundry, but having others put it away.
11. the ambiance and comfort of a roaring fire.
10. the mom-developed ability to turn a carpooling-related phone call into an existential discussion and then run out to pick up the kids from swimming.
9. resilience.
8. the fact that i'm figuring out the life messages i want to give my kids. and that they occasionally repeat them back to me.
7. asking the girls' opinions of an outfit and really wanting their answers.
6. hugging finn.
5. tightening the thread.  this is how I describe my editing process. it's the feeling of it coming together just right.  i think, at 40, we're tightening the thread and it feels great.
4. days when we're all home, something's cooking and there's nothing we MUST do.
3. the endless possibility of things happening that you never imagined.
2. mike, logan, riley, finn, jesse, dempsey, harley, and maggie.  my immediate forever loves. my life.
1. the next 40 years, experiences, possibilities. the rollercoaster.

alone

I am a sucker for milestones.

It's been ten years since I was alone all day and even then I spent my days commuting to the city and working hard. Times have surely changed and as I dropped my (gulp) last KINDERGARTNER off at his first day of school today, I couldn't help but tear up. Believe me, I want the peace and time to grow my business, but I will miss them and all their sweet silliness beyond words. For weeks I've been feeling a bit like I'm standing on the edge of some great unknown, armed with only the information that I must jump, soon. This morning I jumped.

So as the last little birdie leaves my nest for the majority of his waking hours, I forge ahead into another of life's phases, excited about the future and oh so grateful that together, Mike and I made it work. Somehow, without delving too deep into debt and exhaustion, our efforts and will allowed me to be at home with these wonderful little beings that I doubt I deserve. Today, I just feel blessed. And that, as they say, is that.

In hindsight, I'm thinking the timing of all this is just a bit off. Maybe my whole world shouldn't be flipping over on the eve of the monumental birthday I'm about to experience.

And then again, maybe the timing is perfect!

if you got it, use it

First of all, I'm in love with my new hipstamatic app.

Second of all, I'm in love with my garden. As the veggie crop multiplies daily, I've gotten smart about cutting some flowers and giving the indoors a boost from the outside. These Annabelle hydrangeas are crazy gorgeous and make me smile every time I see them peeking through the side of the deck railing. Now they keep me smiling in the kitchen, too. The best part? The bouquets I've created would probably cost $60 and they last more than a week.

The frugal side of me is screaming "Whoo hoo" for using what I've got!

lights, camera, action!

Well, in hindsight, today was a bucket-list day. I guess this little adventure was never actually on my bucket list, but I know now that it should have been. I was taken totally by surprise a few weeks ago when my editor at GateHouse Media asked if I'd be interested in shooting a quick video spot to become available with my Shoestring Living column when it runs each week. So this writer jumped at the chance, veered left and ventured into some video work. Not ever having done something like this before, I was excited, but nervous, too.

All I can say is thank God for reality TV, because while we shot the first four video spots in my home and our neighborhood today, I thought of the many comments I've heard from judges on shows like The Next Food Network Star. "Look at the camera. Tell a personal story. Smile. Show energy and personality." In one spot, I assemble a recipe I've created. Let me tell you, it's an art to get all those things together without the spoon flipping out of the bowl or forgetting to put in an ingredient!

Anyway, it was such a great experience; one I look forward to continuing. I think I was the most excited after it was all over and I realized how much I truly enjoyed the whole process.

Stay tuned for some links to my video debut!

june blues

Busy doesn't even begin to explain the last month of our lives. Between swimming, gymnastics, baseball, camp and more, I am pining for some summer relaxation. On top of it all, is my gross underestimation that I could survive the summer with a sitter only one day a week; filling in the gaps at night and on the weekends. This, my friends, is impossible.

Maybe I should have had kids earlier so youth would now be on my side. But alas, "40" is peeking at me with open eyes, taunting me with her snicker right beyond September, making me feel exhausted to the point of tears with my current load. Yes, this over-stretched mama has the June blues.

But right in front of my pal "40" is my true friend "vacation". I can't wait for lazy mornings, water sports, long nighttime boat rides, feeding the fish, soaking up lake life with the kids and PEACE. I can't wait to not drive my car for days. I can't wait until, a few miles from our destination, my AT&T service peters out as it always does. I can't wait to feel the wind in my face, the Carolina heat on my skin and to fill my tummy with the best chicken salad and local tomatoes around. Heck, I can't even wait for the drive.

In the meantime, I'll survive by tapping into the every-three-year revival of the best ice cream flavor on Earth - which coincidentally falls within the range of my "blues" theme - Oberweis' Blueberry Pie. I'm eating it right now. For lunch.

us humans have it all wrong

In September, we got a new dog. We already had a fine canine at home, but as usual, I tend to seek out ways to complicate my own life and bringing home another bouncy, happy lab puppy was just what I sought out to do. For the record, I'm a big fan of the two-dog family; anyone who remembers Harley and Maggie knows why. So now we have Jesse and Dempsey.

Dempsey moved in and took over. All 7 pounds of her asserted herself into Jesse's space, and ours for that matter. She is an alpha dog to the core and has let us all know. A recent visit from a friend and her dog sealed the deal for me - Dempsey nearly tore my arm off in her fury to have this female out of her yard. That wasn't embarrasing at all.

Now she's 40-some pounds and I still find it unsettling how she can ellicit a tiny whimper and have Jesse scurrying out of her own bed or dropping her favorite toy. It literally pisses me off that she waltzed in and took charge and that all the books say that we have to accept it. As much as I love her, it's just not right.

See, I'm not that kind of gal. If there is something less than mainstream about my personality, I tend to opt to correct instead of just accepting myself. If I need something, I have a hard time asking for it. If someone doesn't seem to like me, I'll probably worry about it. Holy *&*^%, I'm the beta!

While thinking this over earlier today, I firmly (thought I) believed that we humans didn't subscribe to the same pecking order rules of the animal kingdom, but following some introspection, I know that we do. We all have someone in our life that exibits despicable behavior and we just accept it. Some of us would rather do without than just go get what we want. However, there's one small difference between our furry friends and ourselves: we can choose to change.

Reality check for me.

my best cooking tip

It takes a few moments for your brain to process the fact that you're on fire. I think this is the scariest thing about what happened to me at dinner tonight; imagining how much worse it could have been and feeling so unbearably grateful that I didn't have to process that.

I was cooking dinner with a dressy scarf tied around my neck - it had been there all day. Mike walked in and we were talking while I was cooking, facing away from him. All of a sudden, I noticed sparks flying up in the air. It seemed like forever until my eyes found the source: the scarf that was currently TIED around my neck!

I quickly headed for the sink while trying to quell the flames with my hands, but I was flailing and scared. I tried to pull it off, but I couldn't get it loose. I tried to lean into the sink and get my neck under the faucet, but my 5 foot stature would not allow me the leeway needed to get it under. I finally screamed, "Help me!" and Mike, who was just a few feet away, patted it out with his hands and then quickly untied it.

Being the non-crier that I am, I even shocked myself when I burst into tears. A moment later, Mike and I were laughing hysterically - it's amazing how many emotions a person can feel within the span of ten seconds. I'm pretty sure I covered them all!

Anyway, take my advice all you scarf-wearing fashionistas. Don't cook with your accessory on - it can really mess you up!

reserved for party

You gotta love when, as the mom, you're the funniest thing that happens at your child's birthday party. Riley had ten or so good buds join her for a showing of Gnomeo and Juliet this Sunday in honor of her big day and now I can officially say that Birthday Palooza has ended.

But, Birthday Palooza insisted on going out with a bang. During our one (miraculous, huh?) trip to the bathroom, I stayed behind to wait for the last little gal. At that moment, while standing outside the bathroom, I had the strangest sensation that everyone around was smiling at me. "What a friendly place!" I thought.

As we walked back to the theater together, my young friend said, "Um, Miss Molly?"

I said, "Yes?"

She said, "You have a sign taped on your back."

"I do?" I chuckled and stretched to remove it.

And there it was, the cause of all the smiles, in giant black letters: RESERVED FOR PARTY.

Funnily, I am totally grateful for this moment! I have gotten more laughter and stress relief from reliving it all week than I could have ever imagined. I keep thinking about in so many ways. It's just plain funny to have a sign on your back. It's pretty hilarious to ponder my partying self hanging with Steve Martin and Dan Akroyd as one of the "wild and crazy guys." And then I think, maybe it's a sign from above. Maybe it's a reminder to chill out and enjoy life more...be ready for anything, you know?

And then I think, "Naw, it's just $@#!& funny!"

large fries. and a cheeseburger. stat.

Five weeks into healthy eating and exercising my butt off, literally, has netted me a loss of 9 pounds. I am super happy with this, but of course my human need for instant gratification demands a faster rate of loss. After momentary frustration following my Saturday am weigh-in, I succumb to what I know for sure:

Any loss is a LOSS. Slow loss is forever loss. All this change can only result in a healthier me.

I'm basically half way to where I want to go, which isn't so bad. The Weight Watchers new program I've been following is something I can really get into and follow with ease and I've got no doubt that I'll forever be more mindful of how many minutes on a treadmill equal a serving of chips and dip. Better food choices (for the most part) will likely follow me around for some time to come.

That being said, with each successful weigh-in and each healthy week, I have begun to crave a restaurant-produced cheeseburger and fries like no body's business. Let me just say I rarely eat beef - maybe once every few months and not much meat besides that. The fact that I am day dreaming about a "huge hunk of meat" (thanks J.B.) baffles me to say the least. But nevertheless, it grows larger and looms over me each week. The fries are no mystery. If you ask me, they may just be the world's most perfect food. Hands down.

Tonight I will cheat! I need a break and WW works in a way that allows you to take one every now and then. So tonight, I will forge a path to Portillos, with an anxious heart and watering mouth and order those deliciously crispy-salty fries (LARGE) and a burger to go alongside. I will enjoy the first few bites of the burger that I've hankered for and then I'll pass it on to Mike, who's sure to finish it. But those fries.... those fries are a different story entirely.

From first to last, I will not share. No, not tonight. I will dip these crinkle-cut spears of golden perfection into ketchup (Heinz, there is no substitute) and savor every bit of oral revelry as I devour them one by one. I'll do it slowly, so I can survive on the experience for the next five weeks when I'll once again give in to that culinary satisfaction only the french fry can deliver. In a couple short hours, I'll be there. Care to join me?

birthday dinner

Don't you just love when something comes together perfectly?

After a long weekend of required activities resulting in not the best birthday on record, Mike and I took the kids to La Sorella di Francesca's on Sunday night for my birthday dinner. I mentioned to a few people that we were taking the kids and they thought us nuts. But it was perfect. They tried new foods, practiced manners and ordering and plowed through dessert with us like little celebrating gourmets.

When do we ever do something so nice? Not often, I'll tell you. While we sit together regularly, doing it in a swanky place, with delicious food and someone else cooking and cleaning up makes it a truly special occurence. From appetizers to wine and our ending cappucinos, I just kept thinking, "this is perfect."

If that's not a happy birthday, I don't know what is.

grateful times 39

This year I'm grateful for...

39. Coffee. Especially in the winter. I still long for the best cup I ever had on August 8th of this year at Glencoe Roast Coffee. It was a vanilla latte that can never be surpassed. Wish I lived closer.

38. Living in a little bit of country. The fog through the trees and over the cornfields at sunrise is amazing. Better with coffee.

37. Writing. The real stuff. It feeds my soul.

36. The fact that shirts got longer. I'm sure they'll cycle back again, but I love hiding the belly bulge.

35. My minivan. Who would've guessed?

34. DVR. It may just be the single best invention during my motherhood. I can finally relax at bedtime on Thursday nights.

33. Our bed. Good for so many things; there is no better feeling than falling into it at night.

32. Autumn. I really do like everything about this fleeting season. From the colors to the smells, it is everything that I love.

31. Feeling proud of my kids. The effort they put into most things is admirable and they deserve to feel great about themselves. They certainly make me feel great about them.

30. Crest Advanced Whitening White Strips. Seriously, these are the best. Nothing improves the
wrinkle-scene more than brighter whites.

29. Good quotes. I'm one of those people who they truly inspire.

28. Working in the dirt. I'm just a novice, but I love it. Need a bigger gardening budget.

27. Cooking. One of the most important things I do. Complete peace comes over me when I'm deep into it. Just need to learn not to take it personally when it doesn't turn out!

26. Lindt Chocolate with a Touch of Sea Salt. MMMMM.

25. The fact that Mike likes to clean up when we entertain. It's one thing I almost never need to worry about.

24. Good dogs. I've been lucky every single time.

23. Good doctors. They're far and few between, but it's worth the research to find them.

22. The way Finn plays with two items. Whether they're cars or birds or spoons, he retreats for a few moments to his own world.

21. How doing the right thing gets easier with age. Are we just too tired of the hangover? (Whatever kind of hangover it is?)

20. Logan's unstoppable excitement. I wish I had her happy energy. It does seem to be somewhat fueled by chocolate though.

19. Our vacation to Napa Valley. Still one of my most treasured experiences. I go back in my mind often.

18. The resiliency of adults. People say kids have it, but I think they just carry everything - it's all they know. Adults have no choice but to let go.

17. Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen. Bobby McGee by Janis Joplin. The Indigo Girls - I love they they make me think, for a moment, that my voice knows what it's doing.

16. Riley's athletic prowess. What a thrill she gives us each time we watch her compete.

15. Being blessed with both daughters and a son. I love learning about their differences, good and bad, each and every day.

14. Good friends: those lifetimers that have been along for the ride for a while, and those met only recently. Life would not be complete without any of them.

13. Family, the whole Logan - Anderson lot. The great, the good, the bad and the ugly. They're
mine, they're perfect and they're treasured.

12. Extra dirty Grey Goose Martini's with blue cheese olives.

11. Good food. Of any variety. For me, eating is one of the greatest pleasures in life!

10. Unexpected great times. We recently had a Sunday dinner with friends that turned into
what felt like an eight hour scene from The Big Chill. Great music and all.

9. Hosting Thanksgiving. My favorite holiday, hands down. Full of eating, cooking and all that's fall, it has none of the holiday hustle and bustle stress. And it's ALL about the gratitude.

8. Finn's uber cuddly-ness. He literally melts into your body and will stay for hours. I get a little anxious thinking about how I'll feel when it ends. I guess it would be weird if it didn't, huh?

7. Mike's strength. Physical and emotional, he has it all. When I wear out, he holds it together. Where would I be without him?

6. Dinner for five. Most nights, we accomplish this and don't take it for granted. As I hear rumbles about the TV going off or call them to the table for the tenth time, I do get frustrated. But once we're all seated and stories of the day are unfolding, I feel I have succeeded at something very important. I will hold on to this with both hands.

5. Logan's songs. They are a direct line to her soul and although they sometimes scare her Daddy with their adult-like topics and candor, her dedication to writing several per day is resulting in quite the little songwriter.

4. Riley's adult-understanding of most situations. It's like she knows a lot about everything.

3. The health of my kids, my husband and myself. It's true, "When you have your health..."

2. Logan, Riley, Finn and Mike. They all must sit here on one line, because without one, family, as we know it, would not exist. They are my reason, my purpose, for everything.

1. Making it this far. For all these blessings, quirks, loves and wonders bestowed on me and the many more that didn't make the page, I am grateful to the core. I am blessed, lucky, in the right energy field, whatever you want to call it. And I've made it this far!

Here's to another 39 - at least!