So That’s What Friends Are For

There are so many things I treasure about my close friends that it’s hard to name just a few.  Women around the world know this, I think.  They understand that time spent with girlfriends has an un-nameable quality.  There's something we can’t quite put our manicured fingers on.  (I know, I know, mine aren’t manicured, but most of theirs are!)  These elements are nearly univeral.  Laughter.  Wine.  Honesty.  Wine.  Soul Bearing Conversation.  Light-Hearted Companionship.  Understanding.  Wine.  Affirmation.  Assurance that we are definitely right and that other person is definitely wrong.  And, we look fine.  Skinny even.  With good hair.  Whatever it is that happens there, when girlfriends gather, it touches our souls. 

Men, on the other hand, well, I can’t really speak to that.  My husband is never, ever going to give a lengthy discourse about bromance and the importance of manly friendships; nor will he mention the touching of souls; it's very safe to say he won't ever publish any kind of touchy-feely men’s book.  He loves his friends.  I know this.  But he’s never gonna say it.

As a sort-of related aside, I recently listened to someone, very unlike my husband, pitch a book idea to an editor.  Both the author and editor were men – and the conversation went something like this: 

“So, what I’m thinking is this.  I’m thinking that as men we need to get in touch with our feminine side.  We’ve really lost the ability to share deeply with one another in a really real way.

“Oh, right, I’m with you.  Sounds like a good idea.  Tell me more.”

“Well, my book will address how we men fail each other regularly because we don’t open ourselves up to those woman-like feelings and share them with each other.”

“That sounds like a great concept.  I’d like to see more.”

Huh?  Seriously.  This really happened.  And I sat there thinking, “What?  What?”  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for men sharing feelings and sending flowers, and possibly even buying me a convertible one day, but that?  That’s a great book idea?  Lord give me strength.  Help me persevere through the wilderness, the impossible-to-understand world that is publishing.  Amen.

Okay, back to the story.

Although my husband won’t be writing a book like that anytime soon, or ever, he does have a close-knit group of friends.  Some of these guys gave up their weekend—time they could've spent with their families, or golfing, or taking a really long nap—to repair a leak in the roof of our carriage house.  In the beginning, it was a leaking, rotting, termite-filled hazard.

And then they did this.

And this.

 And now it looks like this.

 Without ever saying a word about feelings or authenticity or the importance of sharing, these guys stepped up and said it all. 

Fred, Brent, Brad & Kurt:  Thank you.  I'll say it on my husband's behalf:  You guys ROCK!

I Thought I Could Live A Lot Of Places. Here, Wasn't One Of Them

When I was younger and more naïve, when I was attending college in the Northeast and considering how I’d make my way in the world, and when I was much more certain about how things ought to be done, I often said this to my friends:  “I could live a lot of places.  I’d live on either coast, or even in Texas.  I just wouldn’t want to live in the middle.  I mean, why would you?”

You can all pause now, and have a nice, hearty laugh at my expense.

To read more about what's happened since I left Connecticut, San Francisco, and Seattle--and to see a photo of me from those young and naïve days--click on over to Midwest Parents for the full story.

How to Entertain 11-year Old Boys (and Survive)

Step 1:  Pray for sunshine.  

photo credit: Deigosaurius Rex

Step 2: Buy plenty of snacks, like carrots, of course.

3.  Add some football.

4.  And some soccer.

5.  Throw in a little baseball for good measure.

6.  Order LOTS of pizza.

7. Include a game of foosball.

8.  Don't forget the big screen.

9.  Top it off with a movie.

10. Then send them all home.

Wordless Wednesday: Which Ones Are The Wild Animals?

More Wordless Wednesday here and here.

Keep Your Marriage Interesting: 5 Ways to Surprise Him!

If you consider the element of surprise strictly the stuff of fiction novels and blockbuster movies, think again.  Surprise isn’t just for John Grisham and Tom Cruise.  It can brighten up a regular old marriage, too.  

See my post at Blissfully Wed today, and discover 5 ways to keep married life interesting!

photo credit: leezi5

What I Got From My Mom

On Mother’s Day, you’d think I’d be telling you what I got for my mom, not from my mom.  But I’ve always been a little selfish that way.  Despite realizing that it’s not all about me, sometimes I still think it is.

When the Parent Bloggers Network asked us what traits we received from our mothers, I got out my pencil and started writing.  Well, okay, honestly I didn’t.  Instead, I sat down to type, but that doesn’t have quite the same ring, does it?

A few gifts from my mother:

• Compassion for the downtrodden
  
• Compassion for the elderly
  
• People skills: “Look them in the eye and say hello”
  
• Tenacity
  
• A deep love for the ocean
  
• A hearty laugh
  
• Bravery in new situations, even if it’s occasionally false bravado
  
• Good posture
  
• Table manners
  
• “This is she,” not "This is her"
  
• Skeptism
  
• Authenticity
  
• Love
  

Thanks, Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day!

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network's Blog Blast, sponsored this week by Johnson's.

Should Kids Hit with Sticks?

At our house, we're used to soccer, football, tennis, and even track.  We own enough cleats to open a store:  The Dirty Used-Cleats Store, I think we'd call it.  But this year, for the first time, one of our boys is trying something new.

He had to give up running track this year to give lacrosse a try, and he was a bit hesitant to do so.  He deemed the first few practices "okay."  Then came the wettest, muddiest day ever.  It poured all day, and that afternoon the boys practiced right through it.  But that's not all.  When my son came home that day, I asked him how practice went.  "Today was the BEST day," he said.  "We got to HIT, with STICKS."

And there, folks, you have it.  My son's analysis of the best day of practice comes down to this:  hitting is awesome.

I'm not sure I have anything to add to that!

Wordless Wednesday: Breathe

For more Wordless Wednesday, click here and here.

Now That Was A Long Day

My day today:

• Wake up at 4:30AM
• Arrive at Seatac airport
• Pay $15 to check one bag
• Ordered to remove 6 pounds from luggage or pay additional $90
• Angrily remove hardcover library books and copies of my book proposal from bag
• Want to yell at someone
• Buy hot chocolate at Seattle’s Best instead
• Call husband to gripe about 6 extra pounds in my laptop bag
• Return call to son’s school:  all  good
• Boarding plane full of germs; trying not to be unreasonable about it
• Wondered when I’d ever get food today
• Offered peanuts on the plane.
• Eat them, greedily
• 40 minute layover; buy sandwich from Einstein Bagel
• Eat bagel sandwich on tiniest plane ever; feel very messy
• Home!
• Husband to airport
• Boy 1 to soccer
• Boy 2 to soccer
• Pick one boy up, then the other
• Showers
• Basketball game for me
• Whew, it’s almost done

I can't wait to go to sleep!

We've Come A Long Way, Baby

I recently perused an old journal from my college days.  There's absolutely no reason to share much of that drivel here.  I'm trying to decide if it's even worth keeping.  Do I really want my children and grandchildren to read this stuff one day?

However, I will share this, which fell out of the journal when I opened it:

That's the boy I fell in love with, all those years ago.

So much has happened in between.  He liked Patty.  I liked Tom.  Formals, Vienna, the Army, Texas, Palm Springs, and Seattle.  I got a job, he got a job, we moved to Green Bay.  We got a dog.  We had a baby.  He became my new job.  New friends, old friends, another baby, another move, still not back east.  New friends, old friends, starting a new company.  Bahamas, St. Thomas, Great Britain, Yellowstone, San Francisco, San Diego, Orcas Island, Italy.  Lots of travel.  Lots of laughs.  A few tears.  More love every year.

Happy 17th Anniversary to us!

Trying to Remain Calm about the Swine Flu

* Saturday update:  The test from my son's school was negative.  Hurray for now!  AND the school has been sanitized.  Double hurray!

Last Monday, President Obama told the nation his administration was keeping their eye on the swine flu situation.  He continued, saying, "But it is not a cause for alarm."

Okay.  I'm not an alarmist.  I can go with that.

On Wednesday, my youngest son's school announced that they were cancelling school for all students on Thursday.  Another kindergardener had tested positive for Influenza A that afternoon--probably not the swine flu, but they had to send the culture out for further testing to be sure.

As a parent, I tried to remain calm.  I appreciate that the school wants to put kids' safety first, and that they're going the "better safe than sorry" route.  They'll be spending Thursday completely sanitizing the school.

But as a parent, my mind also made those jumps.  You know the ones.  The cough that won't quit.  The too-fast ride on the scooter.  The ocean, deep and strong.  It's the what-ifs that get us, isn't it?

As I Googled away, I ran across this recent article in the Washington Post, and this article on CNN.com, which I decided to share with you.  They provide us with a fairly good summary of what's happening and what to watch out for.  I decided to share these here not to incite alarm--quite the opposite.  At the very least we can arm ourselves with facts, instead of rumors.

Keep washing your hands, friends.  This whole thing is making me a little nervous.

*Footnote update:  My son's school decided to close today, also, until they get positive confirmation on the flu strain.  

Colleges Dump the Cafeteria Tray

Huh.  So they're doing away with the cafeteria tray.

I'm trying to imagine it.  As a mother, and former waitress, I have an amazing ability to carry it all in one trip:  load me up with several plates, cups, napkins, and a plate of hot wings, no problem.  

But as a college kid, I hadn't been a waitress yet.  I couldn't even carry the tray with one hand - I had the double grip going, one firmly on each side.  

Now I find out that if only I hadn't used the tray, I'd have kept my svelte high school figure and staved off the freshman 15.  It wasn't the all-night, any-night kegs in the fraternities. 

It wasn't the seconds on any (or every) dessert in the cafeteria.

It definitely wasn't eating pizza at midnight several nights a week.  

Nope, it was the tray.

It's all right here, in yesterday's NY Times article. 

Hmmm....  So what's my excuse, now?

photo credit:  Kamal H., Mike Morrow, Ned Raggett, la_mala1 & Pathfinder Linden

They Used to Be So Little

For more Wordless Wednesday, click here and here.

Should You "Friend" Your Ex on Facebook?

A few years ago, Facebook was the province of college kids.  Before too long, teens and tweens joined the fray.  Now the rest of us are logging on.

It won't be long before these girls join, and apparently their grandmothers are already out there.

I've written about the pros and cons of Facebook, but until recently, I hadn't thought about the obvious:  What do you do when your old boyfriend comes a-calling?  Ignoring someone you once knew so well seems cold; becoming online Friends with your ex sounds a bit iffy.

To read more about my take on Friending Your Ex, click on over to my post at Wedded Bliss.

Happy Facebooking!

photo credit:  whiteafrican

Quick and Easy Scrapbooking

When my first son was around four-years old, I started to feel guilty.  Okay, no, you’re right.  I’ve always felt guilty.  At any given time, I feel guilty for one thing or another—something I’m not currently doing, something I feel like I should be doing, or something I’m not doing well enough.  But on this particular occasion, the one when my son was four, I felt guilty about my scrapbook.  Or, rather, my lack thereof.

I kept a photo album chronicling the days since he was born.  You know the kind:  you peel back the plastic paper, stick the photos in, and press the plastic paper back down.  I even decorated it a bit, so it  looked more like a scrapbook.  But Creative Memories was not in my budget, and scrapbooking certainly did not fit into my schedule.  Nonetheless, the popularity of scrapbooking had me feeling bad for my poor, un-scrapbooked children.

And so, I caved.  If you thought this blog was going to be about how I stood my ground and said, “My photo album is every bit as good as your Fancy Schmancy Scrapbook,” well, I’m sorry to disappoint.  I’m feeling guilty about that, even now.

Instead of standing my ground, I took my checkbook and my frugal self to my friend Michelle’s house, where she schooled a dozen of us in how to preserve our children’s childhoods on acid-free paper.  Acid-free!  I should’ve known those photo albums were junk.  I bought parsimoniously:  an album, the pages, page protectors, and some paper.  No pricey paper cutters for me, thanks.

Another day, I will tell you about what a fish out of water I was at that event, and at almost all Creative Memories events to follow.  Nothing against Creative Memories—I think their products are fantastic.  But, somehow, it just wasn’t my crowd.  I tried, they tried, everyone tried, but I think we all knew I just didn’t have a crafty bone in my body.  Maybe it’s because I was copying their page designs.

I started slowly, with a family scrapbook that documented all of the Fantastic Fun we have as a Fantastic Family.  (Look at the album, you’ll see.  No tears here!)  I soon realized that these other women were working on more than one scrapbook.  What?!  Yes, it’s true.  You may even be one of the crazies:  They had a family album and an entire album for each child.  Every ice cream cone, sports team, and pretty new dress beautifully detailed for all future generations to see.  You people kill me.

Guess how I felt?

Still, I knew I couldn’t commit to a lifetime of scrapbooking every moment for every child.  Instead, I cheated.  And I absolutely love what I came up with.  Or, really, what my friend Michelle came up with.  She was the one who listened to my woes and gave me the following suggestion.

At the time, Creative Memories sold smaller albums, in a 7 x 7 size.  I bought three, one for each boy, in a fun denim fabric.  I don’t think they carry these anymore, but I’m sure you could find something like it at Michael’s in another brand.

In each book, all of the page layouts and designs are the same.  Keep it simple, stupid, right?  So each book has it’s own design, but it’s the same design on each 2-page layout.  In one book, for example, I tape a ¾ inch strip of paper down the side of the page, with 3 small circles running along the strip, in coordinating colors.  I use the circles to write their age, and the year.  The colors of the paper changes, but the design is constant.  Simplicity at its best.  But that's only a part of what makes this doable for me.  Here’s the key:  I only put their annual photo (5 x 7) in the album.  For the first two years, I included the 6-month, 1-year,  and 18-month photos, but after that, it’s my son at 2, my son at 3, my son at 4.  Flip, flip, flip and you can see the years flying by.  It’s a perfect snippet.

For the details, they’ll need to check the family album.