Yesterday I had one of those "proud mom" moments. It was my DD first day of being a snowboarding instructor. I had to drive her there, and when I watched her in my mirror getting her gear out of the trunk, for her first day at "work", I was overcome with how proud I am of her.
She's turned into this absolutely amazing young woman. And I couldn't be prouder.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
the falling snow
I live in Wisconsin. I was born and raised here, left for four years of college, and returned. And I'm one of those people who loves the changing seasons. And yes, I love the snow. To me, there is nothing more beautiful than the morning after a big snow. Winter blue sky, sun shining, and brand new (clean) snow everywhere you look.
We had a great snow a few weeks back, and it's been cold enough to keep it. We LIVE for this. Sledding, snowboarding, making snowmen. It just doesn't get any better. This week was a little warm, and it started to melt. But Saturday fixed all that!
We had our church Christmas program (another blog!) on Saturday, and by the time we left church that night, the snow had begun to fall. And it kept falling......
By Sunday morning, we had about 10 of fresh snow, and another 4-5 fell throughout the day on Sunday. It's JUST BEAUTIFUL. We had the fireplace going, good friends to share the day with, drinking homemade apple pie liquor. The snow just kept falling, and BLOWING. Beautiful drifts, artwork in its own sense.
Today everyone is digging out. It's Christmas Eve, and I hope people arrive wherever they need to go safely. But a White Christmas we will have!
We had a great snow a few weeks back, and it's been cold enough to keep it. We LIVE for this. Sledding, snowboarding, making snowmen. It just doesn't get any better. This week was a little warm, and it started to melt. But Saturday fixed all that!
We had our church Christmas program (another blog!) on Saturday, and by the time we left church that night, the snow had begun to fall. And it kept falling......
By Sunday morning, we had about 10 of fresh snow, and another 4-5 fell throughout the day on Sunday. It's JUST BEAUTIFUL. We had the fireplace going, good friends to share the day with, drinking homemade apple pie liquor. The snow just kept falling, and BLOWING. Beautiful drifts, artwork in its own sense.
Today everyone is digging out. It's Christmas Eve, and I hope people arrive wherever they need to go safely. But a White Christmas we will have!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
driving..a rite of passage
learning to drive is a rite of passage. not just for the nervous teenager but for the parents.
this last monday, my daughter (oldest) got her temps. in wisconsin, that is a license to learn to drive behind the wheel. her dad and i took her out for breakfast, totally played hookie, and then to get her permit. i knew it was a big day.
i picked her up at practice that night, and she wanted to drive home. there was no reason to say no. i'd never seen her behind the wheel before. as she pulled out from the curb, i started to laugh. now anyone with a teenager daughter would know that this response was not met well by my dd. i didn't know why i was laughing. nerves, maybe. or the humor of the fact that i at 37 am sitting in the passenger side while my dear baby is driving. but probably nerves.
i am trying to supress my giggles, which have now turned into tears. dd is not happy. while she realizes that i'm not doing this intentionally, or maliciousy, she is annoyed.
even through mom's hainous reaction, we make it into the driveway safely. i can breathe at last.
i truly think this driving is a rite of passage for the parents. much more so than the kids.
this last monday, my daughter (oldest) got her temps. in wisconsin, that is a license to learn to drive behind the wheel. her dad and i took her out for breakfast, totally played hookie, and then to get her permit. i knew it was a big day.
i picked her up at practice that night, and she wanted to drive home. there was no reason to say no. i'd never seen her behind the wheel before. as she pulled out from the curb, i started to laugh. now anyone with a teenager daughter would know that this response was not met well by my dd. i didn't know why i was laughing. nerves, maybe. or the humor of the fact that i at 37 am sitting in the passenger side while my dear baby is driving. but probably nerves.
i am trying to supress my giggles, which have now turned into tears. dd is not happy. while she realizes that i'm not doing this intentionally, or maliciousy, she is annoyed.
even through mom's hainous reaction, we make it into the driveway safely. i can breathe at last.
i truly think this driving is a rite of passage for the parents. much more so than the kids.
Friday, December 14, 2007
at the buzzer
Picture if you will. Tuesday night. JV basketball against our biggest rival. We are undefeated going in. The game is going either way by no more than 6 points at any time….
40 seconds to go, we are down by one. THEY have the ball. We foul them, they miss the free throws. THEY get the rebound. We foul them, they miss the free throws, WE get the rebound. Coach calls time out.
14 seconds remain. We inbound to Heather, she misses, WE get the rebound. Coach calls time out.
4.9 seconds remain….. the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Our undefeated record on the line. ASSUMPTION on the line. (We don’t like them J)
The coach gives the girls the play. We inbound to Brittany (great shot).
She misses.
ALLIE (DD) AT POST - REBOUNDS, SINKS THE SHOT. THE BUZZER GOES OFF. WE WIN BY ONE POINT!
You would have thought that we won the NCAA national championship. Our side line erupts, the girls run to the court. Every parent should get to see their child go through something like that. It was AWESOME. I have never seen my child be able to do something like that before, and it's a feeling i cannot describe to you.
40 seconds to go, we are down by one. THEY have the ball. We foul them, they miss the free throws. THEY get the rebound. We foul them, they miss the free throws, WE get the rebound. Coach calls time out.
14 seconds remain. We inbound to Heather, she misses, WE get the rebound. Coach calls time out.
4.9 seconds remain….. the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Our undefeated record on the line. ASSUMPTION on the line. (We don’t like them J)
The coach gives the girls the play. We inbound to Brittany (great shot).
She misses.
ALLIE (DD) AT POST - REBOUNDS, SINKS THE SHOT. THE BUZZER GOES OFF. WE WIN BY ONE POINT!
You would have thought that we won the NCAA national championship. Our side line erupts, the girls run to the court. Every parent should get to see their child go through something like that. It was AWESOME. I have never seen my child be able to do something like that before, and it's a feeling i cannot describe to you.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
random thoughts
It's been a long time since i've written, so I decided I needed to take some time to do so. That's the best part of this blog. It's brought my journaling back.
Christmas where I work is hell. We are a fourth quarter company. I have Sundays off, but we're working 6 day weeks, 11-12 hour days. Good, because busy is good at this time of year, but it wears on me. Even more, the older I get. I have found I need more down time, I need more sleep. I've found myself vegging in front of the tv for no apparent reason. I'm aging.
I will say that this is the best Christmas we've had as a family. I've had days with both kids and the dh shopping and looking at all the Christmas stuff. I've baked cookies with friends. I've gone out for drinks. I have several dinner dates - with different friends. I have girlfriends coming over after the basketball game Friday for Irish Coffees. We've been celebrating our families, and our friendships, which is so important.
I heard a song on the radio today - about how 100 years flies by. To live each moment, each breath. How true that is. It is so important to live life. With no regrets. Life is too short.
In the last three weeks, my father in law has been put into a nursing home following a quadruple bypass. His best friend has died of cancer. A friend's father has died. A friend's HUSBAND has died. It is SO important to cherish every day we have on this earth. Life is a gift. A Blessing from God. It needs to be treated that way.
Live life. LOVE life.
A couple of quotes I have on my wall here at work:
*Never confuse having a career with having a life.
*When you relinquish the desire to control your future, you obtain happiness.
*Life is too short to wake up with regrests. So Love the people who treat you right. Forget about the ones who don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.
these, my dear friends, are my words for the day.
Christmas where I work is hell. We are a fourth quarter company. I have Sundays off, but we're working 6 day weeks, 11-12 hour days. Good, because busy is good at this time of year, but it wears on me. Even more, the older I get. I have found I need more down time, I need more sleep. I've found myself vegging in front of the tv for no apparent reason. I'm aging.
I will say that this is the best Christmas we've had as a family. I've had days with both kids and the dh shopping and looking at all the Christmas stuff. I've baked cookies with friends. I've gone out for drinks. I have several dinner dates - with different friends. I have girlfriends coming over after the basketball game Friday for Irish Coffees. We've been celebrating our families, and our friendships, which is so important.
I heard a song on the radio today - about how 100 years flies by. To live each moment, each breath. How true that is. It is so important to live life. With no regrets. Life is too short.
In the last three weeks, my father in law has been put into a nursing home following a quadruple bypass. His best friend has died of cancer. A friend's father has died. A friend's HUSBAND has died. It is SO important to cherish every day we have on this earth. Life is a gift. A Blessing from God. It needs to be treated that way.
Live life. LOVE life.
A couple of quotes I have on my wall here at work:
*Never confuse having a career with having a life.
*When you relinquish the desire to control your future, you obtain happiness.
*Life is too short to wake up with regrests. So Love the people who treat you right. Forget about the ones who don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.
these, my dear friends, are my words for the day.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
a fake..
I am a fake. The funny thing is, I don't know anyone who has told me that they've caught on. So I must be a really GOOD fake. I have gotten emails about what an amazing person I am, etc., and my stomach turns. If only people knew the truth.
I am selfish. If people heard the thoughts going on in my head sometimes, they would be appauled.
I do NOT follow through. I am a big talker - offering all kinds of things - but many times completely let someone down because I have too many things going at once. I don't do this on purpose, I just promise like I have Martha Stewart's staff helping me out.
I forget birthdays. And even when I remember birthdays, sometimes I run out of time to send a card or gift.
I'm lazy. Even when I know a ton of things to do there are times when I just don't do them. Like last night, when I should have been doing the church books. I got tired and went to bed. Or I'll do something ELSE like dishes, or Christmas cards. INSTEAD of what I need to do first.
I'm a HORRIBLE procrastinator. HORRIBLE. I do everything at the last minute.
I talk about people. It is my worst fault. I love to gossip. And it's so ridiculously not Christian, that it kills me when I catch myself.
I find myself finding fault with everyone else. It's never my fault. OK, maybe not always, but more now than ever. I hear myself talking sometimes and just cringe. I can find an excuse for anything if I put my mind to it. Sometimes I find myself just saying - sorry, my bad. But many times I twist things to make them someone else's fault, making ME the poor victim.
And the problem is, this is what I see. I don't see the amazing person, or the great friend. I see a fake, who doesn't deserve most things that come to her. I want to scream to the world that I am not who they think I am, but the bad person in me doesn't let me. It keeps up the fascade.
I am selfish. If people heard the thoughts going on in my head sometimes, they would be appauled.
I do NOT follow through. I am a big talker - offering all kinds of things - but many times completely let someone down because I have too many things going at once. I don't do this on purpose, I just promise like I have Martha Stewart's staff helping me out.
I forget birthdays. And even when I remember birthdays, sometimes I run out of time to send a card or gift.
I'm lazy. Even when I know a ton of things to do there are times when I just don't do them. Like last night, when I should have been doing the church books. I got tired and went to bed. Or I'll do something ELSE like dishes, or Christmas cards. INSTEAD of what I need to do first.
I'm a HORRIBLE procrastinator. HORRIBLE. I do everything at the last minute.
I talk about people. It is my worst fault. I love to gossip. And it's so ridiculously not Christian, that it kills me when I catch myself.
I find myself finding fault with everyone else. It's never my fault. OK, maybe not always, but more now than ever. I hear myself talking sometimes and just cringe. I can find an excuse for anything if I put my mind to it. Sometimes I find myself just saying - sorry, my bad. But many times I twist things to make them someone else's fault, making ME the poor victim.
And the problem is, this is what I see. I don't see the amazing person, or the great friend. I see a fake, who doesn't deserve most things that come to her. I want to scream to the world that I am not who they think I am, but the bad person in me doesn't let me. It keeps up the fascade.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
the Lakefront...a story by me
This is a story I wrote - - - wanted to share.
***
Maybe it’s the forbidden that makes us yearn for those things just out of our reach. Maybe it’s the forbidden that makes being close to those things so enticing.
Maybe it’s the forbidden that refreshes us, makes us new again.
I have no idea how the forbidden made it into my life. Or when. It is 10 o’clock in the morning, a Monday morning, and I have found myself driving through the turns of a wooded lake area. Towards the forbidden.
It’s amazing how simple it is. Appointments – with social workers, doctors, and homes, to try and take care of my grandmother. Untraceable. Unreachable. And completely innocent. Believable. Secluded lake house. Far enough to be anonymous. Close enough to go for the afternoon.
All of the thoughts are running through my head as I make the turns, edging closer and closer to the lake house. The conversations - taunting, teasing, and flirting. Some were so completely innocent, and others so completely forbidden. What are my expectations of this? Do I have the control to make this what I truly need and want? What are his expectations? What if they are different?
I feel completely safe with this. I know that he will respect whatever I want or don’t want to do. I don’t know that I feel safe with myself. Will I take things too far? Will he stop me from doing that?
The drive is unbelievable. Vermont at this time of year is an artist’s pallet of color. The trees are all turning, and it’s a perfectly clear crisp afternoon. Early autumn. Crisp, but not too cold. It’s a perfect day.
As I turn into the driveway of the Lake House, the scene is almost surreal. A beautiful lake, sandy beach, clear sky, and a strong breeze. The house is perfect. Wrap around deck, lots of windows.
I knock, but no one answers. Am I at the right place? I try the door, but it’s locked. I wish it was open. I would love to walk in quietly – to find him, unaware of my presence. I wonder what he’s doing? How long has he been here?
He comes to the door with that smile. That infectious smile. The perfect compliment to his intense, dark, eyes. All of a sudden, I realize I am very nervous. My mind is racing with thoughts – questions. Where is this going to go? Where do I want it to go? As he leads me into the kitchen – I can see the great expanse of the house. Oversized couch and chairs fill the living room, which is facing the windows overlooking the deck, the beach, and the lake. With the patio door open, there is an amazing breeze coming in off the lake, filling the house with the crisp, autumn, lake air. The open, airy feeling I would want if I had a house on a lake.
On the counter, he has some rustic bread with balsamic and olive oil. He sits across the counter, and I stand. It’s amazing to me how easy the conversation is. We laugh, we confide.
The conversation changes to the beach. After a tour of the house, he takes me down to the beach. The sand feels amazing on my feet, and the cool breeze is the perfect compliment to the sun beating down on us. We walk along the beach, not far, but enough to take it all in.
The afternoon continues, like an all day massage. The comfort of sitting on the overstuffed couch, chatting about our lives, our aspirations, and our fears. And then, sitting on the deck, feet up, taking in the fresh lake air. Being able to talk about anything that entered our hearts. Being able to be ourselves, with no limits.
Is this the forbidden? Is this wrong? Is this connection going too far?
As quickly as the day began, it is ending. The clock tells the truth, and it is time to go back to reality. To our families, our homes. Taking with us only the memories, the feelings of the afternoon. Hopefully those memories can carry us through, until the next time.
***
Maybe it’s the forbidden that makes us yearn for those things just out of our reach. Maybe it’s the forbidden that makes being close to those things so enticing.
Maybe it’s the forbidden that refreshes us, makes us new again.
I have no idea how the forbidden made it into my life. Or when. It is 10 o’clock in the morning, a Monday morning, and I have found myself driving through the turns of a wooded lake area. Towards the forbidden.
It’s amazing how simple it is. Appointments – with social workers, doctors, and homes, to try and take care of my grandmother. Untraceable. Unreachable. And completely innocent. Believable. Secluded lake house. Far enough to be anonymous. Close enough to go for the afternoon.
All of the thoughts are running through my head as I make the turns, edging closer and closer to the lake house. The conversations - taunting, teasing, and flirting. Some were so completely innocent, and others so completely forbidden. What are my expectations of this? Do I have the control to make this what I truly need and want? What are his expectations? What if they are different?
I feel completely safe with this. I know that he will respect whatever I want or don’t want to do. I don’t know that I feel safe with myself. Will I take things too far? Will he stop me from doing that?
The drive is unbelievable. Vermont at this time of year is an artist’s pallet of color. The trees are all turning, and it’s a perfectly clear crisp afternoon. Early autumn. Crisp, but not too cold. It’s a perfect day.
As I turn into the driveway of the Lake House, the scene is almost surreal. A beautiful lake, sandy beach, clear sky, and a strong breeze. The house is perfect. Wrap around deck, lots of windows.
I knock, but no one answers. Am I at the right place? I try the door, but it’s locked. I wish it was open. I would love to walk in quietly – to find him, unaware of my presence. I wonder what he’s doing? How long has he been here?
He comes to the door with that smile. That infectious smile. The perfect compliment to his intense, dark, eyes. All of a sudden, I realize I am very nervous. My mind is racing with thoughts – questions. Where is this going to go? Where do I want it to go? As he leads me into the kitchen – I can see the great expanse of the house. Oversized couch and chairs fill the living room, which is facing the windows overlooking the deck, the beach, and the lake. With the patio door open, there is an amazing breeze coming in off the lake, filling the house with the crisp, autumn, lake air. The open, airy feeling I would want if I had a house on a lake.
On the counter, he has some rustic bread with balsamic and olive oil. He sits across the counter, and I stand. It’s amazing to me how easy the conversation is. We laugh, we confide.
The conversation changes to the beach. After a tour of the house, he takes me down to the beach. The sand feels amazing on my feet, and the cool breeze is the perfect compliment to the sun beating down on us. We walk along the beach, not far, but enough to take it all in.
The afternoon continues, like an all day massage. The comfort of sitting on the overstuffed couch, chatting about our lives, our aspirations, and our fears. And then, sitting on the deck, feet up, taking in the fresh lake air. Being able to talk about anything that entered our hearts. Being able to be ourselves, with no limits.
Is this the forbidden? Is this wrong? Is this connection going too far?
As quickly as the day began, it is ending. The clock tells the truth, and it is time to go back to reality. To our families, our homes. Taking with us only the memories, the feelings of the afternoon. Hopefully those memories can carry us through, until the next time.
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