Things To Say

Where MrsRW Has Been Hiding

2008-12-17T07:12:00.004-06:00

Everywhere I go it's the same thing - "we're tired of your shtick, where's your wife?" It never fails. She drops out of sight for a while and I start getting the emails... "whadja do to her, you MEANIE?" I tell ya I don't get any respect.

Well the plain fact is that while I've been off dreaming away in wonderland, making goslings in the air with my cigar smoke and generally goofing off with my life for the last year or two, happily drifting without so much as a plan or a goal or... er... any use either... actually... MrsRW has been off working and networking and becoming the chief breadwinner around here. I am... as it were... being carried.

Not that I have any complaints. I am nothing if not a practical man. This honcho-macho crap about how the MAHN must be the major income and the MAHN gets the bacon and if your wife makes more than the MAHN you, as a MAHN, are of little MAHNliness is a lot of... well... crap. This is 2008 almost 9. It's a new world.

And starting in mid January it will be a new world for MrsRW as well, as she got word yesterday that a consultant's position she applied for with a national company has been offered to her, along with what would amount to something like an immediate 20-22% raise in pay. As in - for starters.

While I've been traipsing around the blogohexadehydrationsphere adding useless little comments here and there, sending off poorly conceived and even worse-executed "literature" (coughcough hack wheeze) for consideration to agents and publishers who are NOT impressed, dreaming up great big important blog posts that have little to do with anybody or anything anyone cares about, and kind of puttering around the house eating bon bons and wearing my big pink fluffy slippers - MrsRW has been taking what amounts to, basically, an associate's degree and almost twenty years of experience in her field - through various positions that give her a unique perspective in the health care field - and forging ahead with her professional career like a responsible adult human being who actually matters is supposed to be doing.

She's on the board of her professional association, has given speeches and presentations, created the system her present hospital currently employs as a major part of its income stream (which, since it is a Catholic Charities hospital turns NO ONE away and can afford now to do that better), and will now be doing major consulting work on a national scale.

It's going to mean a lot of travel for her, and that's going to be the rough part for both of us - but there's no telling where this leads to after that. Her resourceful care and talent for marshaling her time, resources and intelligence - plus the fact that she's the one usually in charge of things around here anyhow - will put her in good shape for the challenges. And her daughters and I are very proud of her, and love her very much.

When she graduated high school she was an 'A' student - in fact an "Illinois State Scholar" recognized student. Anything she wanted to do, or any school she wanted to go to, would have found an easy reason to accept her. Instead, because of her family situation, she had to not go to college and instead get a job checking people out at a local chain grocery store so she could afford to move out of that house ASAP. What a waste. Then, after we re-met and married and our daughters were born and started school, she maintained her 40-hour a week job and went to nursing school at night. She flew through that, got hired as a nurse, discovered a skill for the admin side, varied her experiences in case management and the like, and eventually became a manager in a major Chicago-area hospital. Now this. Well it's about time the world recognized her. She got - as far as I'm concerned - a bad break finishing high school. And this amounts to vindication.

Her daughters and I are exceedingly proud of her.

And I can afford an extra box of bon bons every week now!

Things you should really know about RW

2008-08-16T10:29:00.006-05:00

Probably not too many people will see this and I know why:

No one has me in their feed-reader
I post so infrequently that it's more work than it's worth to check back to see if there's anything new here
My life is rather uninteresting and that's why I rarely have anything to say (at least from my point of view)

But, as I listen to RW cutting the hedges it occurred to me that he probably won't "self-reveal" on his own blog because he is innately private, shy and it's hard for him to write anything that might sound self-aggrandizing.

So here are a few things that I think you should know about RW:

he is intensely loyal to people he loves. But...he can cut you out of his life without a backward glance if he feels that you've double-crossed him.
he loves his daughters unconditionally but he is not blind to their faults and won't take any shit from them
he has a hard time showing emotions (unless it's to his granddaughter) whether it's love or hate. After 30 years he still feels weird with public displays of affection. When we were first married he would rarely kiss or hug me in front of his family (think about it: people sort of expect that kind of stuff when you're newlyweds, don't they?). He's still that way. But at times he really wants hugs and kisses. An impromptu hug and kiss from one of his daughters or the granddaughter will totally make him melt
He is both extremely hard-working and incredibly lazy. Like today: he's going to trim the hedges, cut grass, edge the lawn - which is growing halfway across the sidewalk - and then collapse. Spread this out over a couple days? Why do that? Ruin the WHOLE weekend? On the other hand he can spend a whole day doing nothing more than watching football (I know, it's a guy thing).
He HATES to spend money. Right now he's saving aluminum cans because, well, it's like 5 cents a pound or something and, gee, over a year that really adds up.
And yet, he is extremely generous . Our whole life, if it came to something his girls (me, too) wanted or needed he would somehow find the money. (I guess this is where the aluminum cans come in).
He loves his family (sister, nieces, nephews) but if he doesn't see them he doesn't really miss them
He can hold a grudge and has a long memory: if you hurt one of his kids (or P-G*) he will never forget. He may ACT as though nothing happened, but trust me, you are DEAD TO HIM.
He has the type of brain that can remember the theme song from a 1960's Chicago kids' show or an actor who had a walk-on role in a 1940's movie (do you know who that IS? He was the guy carrying Errol Flynn's sword in "Sea Hawk!") but he can't remember how to get to our daughter's house 7 miles away although we've been there how many times?
Breathing and writing are almost the same thing - no, scratch that; for RW it's the same thing. He can't live without either. He'd love to be widely read but he'd write even if no one read anything he wrote.
Although RW intensely loves his own family (the girls, P-G and me) we are not enough. He wants to leave a legacy through his writing (see above).
He often says he's be fine living in a cave but he also says (and knows) that he'd become a degenerate without his family.
He likes to think he has good taste in clothes but he really doesn't. He has to be pushed (I mean shoved) into wearing anything that could remotely be considered trendy. He can't understand that no one wears a 3-piece white linen suit anymore. I'm always saying, "but RW, yes, it's in style, bu that's Jay Gatsby in the 20's, for God's sake".
He feels that he's living in the wrong era (see above). He would like to be living in the era of the Spanish-American War.
He is NOT handy. Any plumbing or home-improvement project always costs twice the usual cost. First, the original cost of materials and second, the cost to have a professional fix the fix.
He can be extremely detail-oriented: he will re-write a paragraph ten times until it's "right" but will leave grass clippings all over the sidewalk and driveway or shave with a dry face and dry razor (ouch!) leaving stray whiskers here and there because he can't be bothered to have a "regimen".
He loves food. I can ago weeks eating cereal because I eat to live, but RW has really gotten into the planning and preparing of food. I am so NOT an appreciative audience. I mean, I LOVE that he does the cooking, but I really don't give a crap about what it actually is. As long as I don't have to cook it I will eat whatever he makes. Really.
He actually thinks he's going to win the lottery and is disappointed every week when he doesn't. Buying his lottery tickets (what? spend money?) every week is a ritual. And every week he dejectedly says "we didn't win" in a sad, sorry voice. It's ok; most days I like my job.
He likes animals as long as they don't live here. The zoo, yes. In our house, no. His motto: animals belong in the wild (or anywhere but in our house). Since we've had several pets over the years I think this is an example of the lengths he'll go to to make his family happy. Having a poop-free backyard made him a really, really happy guy.
For someone who doesn't show a lot of emotion (outwardly, anyway) he actually is, sort of like a toasted marshmallow.
He is intensely spiritual. He disdains the ritual (and singing) of mainstream religions and finds renewal and solace at his Friends Meeting.
He is really picky about what he will watch on TV. He will almost never watch a sitcom but is addicted to Project Runway, Top Chef and American Experience.
He is a self-searcher. In his mind there is always something to improve. This makes him both happy and dissatisfied at the same time.

Hmmm. ..I probably could've done this as a series. I don't think this list is anywhere near complete. But as RW likes to think of himself as a man of mystery, I should probably not reveal all.

* Princess Granddaughter

This is what a Father is:

2008-06-15T12:02:00.006-05:00

It should come as no secret that I chose this picture for a Father's Day post since my husband is the "Father-of-Daughters". One of the things RW and I do every night is watch an episode of a favorite TV series that we have on tape or DVD. One of our favorite series is "West Wing" because the characters are well-drawn and the writing is witty. In West Wing President Bartlet has three daughters and in one episode recounts a story that explains what it's like to be a father of only daughters:

Bartlet: You know, 15 years ago, we took a trip to Egypt, all five of us, saw the pyramids and Luxor, then headed up into the Sinai. We had a guide, a Bedouin man, who called me "Abu el Banat." Whenever we'd meet another Bedouin, he'd introduce me as "Abu el Banat." The Bedouin would laugh and laugh and then offer me a cup of tea. And I'd go and pay them for the tea, and they wouldn't let me. "Abu el Banat" means "father of daughters." They thought the tea was the least they could do.

Well, RW has certainly earned the title "Abu el Banat". Over the years he's learned several things about being a "father-of-daughters": NEVER leave the seat up or deal with the consequences - getting up in the middle of the night to dry off the toddler who fell in during a nocturnal bathroom visit; hormonal outbursts can happen at any hour of any day so be prepared with the appropriate response; a mother's advice may be offered, but it's dad's advice that will be heeded; men will come and go but Dad will always be there.

Our girls have been so lucky to have RW as their father. Not only did he change the diapers when they were small and learn how to cook and do laundry while I went back to school he has let both of them know that home is where you can always come back to, no questions asked.
When we were young parents and struggling to pay the bills he always managed to find the money for those wanted, but not needed items, that I didn't know how we could afford: school jackets, new dance shoes, money for band trips, prom dresses...it was only later that I found out it was because he went without lunch, postponed the haircut another couple weeks, deferred needed dental work or new glasses, in other words, made personal sacrifices to put his daughters' needs ahead of his own.

Our daughters are both bright: they've done well in school and are successful in their professions. This is no accident. From the time they were both small RW read to them EVERY night, several books at a time. He would moan and groan, but then give in to requests to read "Gingerman, daddy" again and AGAIN. He opened their older eyes to Gabriel Garcia Marquez and the wisdom of eastern religious thought. Their religious philosophy is their own but it was shaped by RW's journey to discover his own.

Now RW is a grandfather and he's able to enjoy that role without the heavy responsibility of parenthood. Princess Granddaughter enjoys special things with Grandpa: they play princesses and castles together with a novel twist: after rescuing the princess numerous times the princess is told to rescue herself! I laughed at this, but it's a good life lesson, isn't it? She helps Grandpa find bugs: when she was 2 bugs were fun; now she finds them so Grandpa can kill them. She draws pictures for him and lets him join her tea parties when "no boys allowed" signs are posted everywhere. RW somehow has a way of capturing the female hearts in his family.

So, RW, here is my tribute to one of the world's best dads. You may feel that you haven't done anything special to deserve it, but I wanted you to know that you DO deserve it. Every day.

A 30-year journey

2008-04-06T13:02:00.013-05:00

Thirty years ago I was several things: MUCH younger, single, working at a job I hated, living alone in an apartment I could barely afford (no, make that couldn't afford) and lonely for a soul-mate: someone who could love me the way I was, someone I didn't have to pretend with and someone who would love me no matter what life threw at us.

Tomorrow is my 30th wedding anniversary to the person who fulfills all the things I wanted in a relationship, RW. We've had our challenges along the way, of course we have. Those of you who believe a perfect marriage doesn't include fighting, arguing or times where you want to just say "fuck this" are deluding yourselves. But we've also had some of the most sublime moments life can offer: the birth of two beautiful daughters; moments spent quietly together without a word being spoken, moments where love was communicated nevertheless; times where we shared grief and times where we shared laughter.

This man has seen me through pregnancies where I came close to looking like the model for "Free Willy" and still found something sexy about me. Who says love isn't blind? He stood by me when I had my mid-life crisis and went back to school, a 4 1/2 year project that required him to take over the role of children's tutor, chauffeur, child psychologist, housekeeper, creative financial genius and laundress. He was there while we mourned the loss of his mother, my mother, numerous close relatives and my step-father. He has been there during the wonderful, brief childhood years, the taxing and, at time, traumatic teenage years and most recently, the adult years of our daughters. He sat beside me as we watched our oldest daughter marry the father of our beloved granddaughter and he will be with me this year when we watch the "baby" make her vows.

While I imagined these life events years ago I never could have imagined how much richer they would be for sharing them with someone who became not just my other half, but my better half. Truly, after thirty years, the part of me that is him is more than just the part of me that is me. He has shaped my past, is my present and I can count on him being there for me in the future.

Happy Anniversary, sweetheart. I know I don't say the words often enough, but I love you so much. You've made my life everything I hoped for and sometimes didn't even know I needed.

PS: Take a look at the picture above. This is what RW gave me for our anniversary. I know you can't put a value on love, but he did a pretty good job, don't you think?

A most excellent friend

2008-04-06T09:52:00.012-05:00

The nicest surprise awaited me when I logged on today and started reading my blog reader. A most excellent person nominated me for a blog excellence award. The rules for accepting this award are as follows: "E for Excellence is a blog award for all of you out there who have Excellent Blogs. By accepting this Excellent Blog Award, you have to award it to ten more people whose blogs you find Excellent Award worthy. You can give it to as many people as you want but please award at least ten."

Frankly, it's a "love-fest" as everyone nominates people they like personally, but who am I to argue when someone sends me an award?

I would like - no, make that love - to lead you to the blogger who nominated my little blog for this award: Girl, Dislocated ! The fact that she even has time to blog astounds me! Her story is an example to others of how to lead your life: to the fullest, damn it! and f-uck the things that stand in your way, like a genetic disorder that would challenge even the most physically or mentally strong among us.

And so to fulfill the rest of my obligations: here are the most-excellent blogs that I feel are deserving of this recognition:

One Step Beyond: This blog is written by someone I've known for over 30 years. It consists of intelligently written observations about both the lighter and serious slices of life. Go there and show him some link-love.

Mocha Momma: Someone who REALLY knows how to write. Due to the press of work her posts have become less frequent, but you need to have her on your blogroll, nevertheless.

Hymn: I discovered his blog through RW and have been "in like" ever since. His ability to describe a situation with wit and unerring accuracy make you feel like you're there and laughing with him. Imagine John Cleese writing about life and you've found Carlton.

A little bird told me: As someone who loves history, I fell in love with this blog! She shows us what it was like to live during WWII through letters written between her grandmother's brothers and sisters. How amazing that these letters survived, and every family member's letter is an example of the lost art of letter-writing! It's like a mini-series, only better, because it's real.

Americans in Singapore: In the not-too-distant-future this will probably be re-named as the author and her husband are re-patriating back to the US, but I have so enjoyed reading about what it's like to live in a foreign culture. Go back and read her archives for a rich experience.

Miss Britt: Is there anyone out there who HASN'T found this blog yet? She has a strong grip on word-smithing far beyond her years (yes, I'm very jealous). I always find something to laugh about and yet, when she writes about a serious topic, I sit up and listen (read harder, I mean).

Ready Steady Go: Another blog that makes me smile or say "hmmm". Always interesting, often giggle-provoking.

The following two blogs need no introduction or comment since they're beyond famous and my comments cannot possibly make them more so -- but go there anyway:

Blogography

Avitable

Again, many thanks to Girl, Dislocated for this award. And, last, but not least, to the person who developed this award and made my "fame" possible: Shannon, over at The Mommy Project. It made my day!

How you know it's time to pick a new rock idol

2008-02-25T20:12:00.013-06:00

"At A mere 5ft 3in, Prince has always relied on the highest of heels to give him a lift. But his penchant for platforms could have stacked the odds against him. At 47, he has been told he needs a hip replacement."

Now, we all grow older (and in the part of my mind that is reality-based I know this), but somehow I never think of my rock idols as growing older, too. When I think of Davy Jones I'm an eager 8th-grader reading Tiger Beat magazine and listening to "Daydream Believer". I thought it would be interesting to look up my "faves" and see how they've held up:

Davy Jones then:

Davy Jones now:

Neil Diamond then:

Neil Diamond now:

David Cassidy then:

David Cassidy now:

Somehow I never pictured my rock idols needing hip replacement surgery. I suppose the solution is to find a new idol that will stay forever young (or at least until after I'm dead). So here is my new idol, David Gallagher. I have no idea who he is, but Google assures me he's hot, hot, hot! And the best part is, he'll be young for a LONG time!

Death Penalty? Yes

2008-02-22T18:36:00.022-06:00

12/18/07: GLENDALE HEIGHTS, Ill. (AP) ― A suburban Chicago father suspected of critically burning his two young sons has had an order of protection filed against him, prohibiting him from seeing the boys. DuPage County Juvenile Court Judge C. Stanley Austin filed the order Tuesday at the request of Assistant State's Attorney Joseph Ruggiero. Authorities say Kaushik Patel of Glendale Heights doused his sons with gasoline and set them ablaze on November 18th. The 34-year-old father and his sons are in the burn unit at Loyola University Medical Center in Maywood. Four-year-old Om and seven-year-old Vishv remain in drug-induced comas.

No charges have been filed against Patel. (Addendum: Om died on Jan. 17)

What the f-ck!! Why the hell not? Are two burned young boys not enough evidence? What more does the law require?

I heard about this story on the way home from work and was sickened to my core. How could anyone do this to a child? Even worse, how could a FATHER do this to his own children? There is no explanation, no motive, nothing. nothing. nothing. that should spare this man the worst torture that could be devised. Death would be too merciful. If Vishv survives, he will have nothing to look forward to except repeated plastic surgeries, permanent disfigurement, endless pain and physical and psychological suffering. How do you explain to a child that the one person who should love him and protect him for his whole life caused him this pain?

I have no answers. Can anyone explain this to me?

Unexpectations

2008-02-08T21:48:00.002-06:00

Some really nice people asked me to co-present an audio conference last month. I was very nervous about the whole thing since I'd never done anything like this before, and it reminded me of how I felt several years ago when I forced myself to do something that I was terrified of doing: going back to school to get a degree. I agonized for three years about whether I was smart enough to do it or if I would fail. Finally I decided that I didn't want to be at the end of my life with nothing but a list of "what ifs" to look back on and so I forced myself to jump off the metaphorical cliff. If I had known then how my life would be now I certainly wouldn't have waited so long (probably the "what if" I still regret).

I have to say I was flattered to be described as "a industry leader" in the conference description. I don't think of myself as a leader of anything unless Girl Scout leader counts. So I felt that once the conference was publicized I had a lot of expectations to fulfill.

Putting together the powerpoint presentation during not one, but two internet failures just about drove me crazy. At one point I thought I'd lost the whole presentation but fortunately it was just hidden on a remote network (hallelujah!). I double-checked everything for spelling and accuracy and sent it off to the publishers. And did I mention that this was going to be a live broadcast? Oh God, one mistake and no way to do it over. To say I was a bundle of nerves was the absolute understatement. Well, I'm a firm believer in the phrase "fake it until you make it", so I did.

The day of the live broadcast I had my power point printed out, my script highlighted with the sections I was presenting, bottles of water, throat spray, land-line phone, clock and laptop spread out over my dining room table in orderly fashion. The call came in from the conference center and before I knew it - it was over! I didn't forget anything, the timing came in on schedule, there were questions from the audience--I had done it! I had jumped off another cliff and landed safely.

Each time I do something like this I get a little braver. There's an affirmation that's been printed on t-shirts, coffee mugs and the like and I think I'll adopt it as one of my mottoes: "what would you do if you knew you could not fail?" The short answer to that question is..............everything.

You'll find me with my head under the covers...

2008-01-01T19:39:00.000-06:00

Someone sent me my Chinese horoscope today. I was born in the year of the Horse. According to Wikipedia Horses have the following qualities:

"The Horse personality is often willing to give, as well as expect, a lot of liberty. These people are extremely independent and confident. The Horse person is very quick-witted, inquisitive and determined. They are very good at recognizing patterns, and are often on to the thought in another's mind even before the other has expressed it.

"In general, these people are gifted. They adore being the center of everyone's attention, but they prefer to be recognized for their skills and are easily flattered. On the other hand, these people have an honesty and genuine warmth which attracts lots of people and helps them make new friends. People generally confide in a Horse person because he/she is sincerely interested in their thoughts and feelings and is able to help with both wise words and an action. However, there is a small problem about it: the horse person is so excited by new discoveries that it is difficult for them to keep a secret. This is not something that arises out of malice or revenge; sometimes they just cannot help themselves."

That's the good news. Now the outlook for 2008:

" Horses are in conflict with Tai Sui in this Rat year. This year’s luck is not good, and evil stars amalgamate in your life chart. Lucky stars are unable to lend strength. Every matter is not going smoothly, wealth luck is low, so you have to be calm and endure this harsh period. Be extra vigilant when investing or signing contracts, to prevent falling into traps, causing losses in wealth and reputation."

Yikes! I'm staying under the covers until 2009...

Party Girl? Not so much...

2008-01-01T12:03:00.000-06:00

I am so NOT a party girl. I wish the new year began at about 9 PM because that's when I was ready for bed last night. I managed to stay awake through sheer willpower and not wanting to disappoint someone who means the whole world to me.

This someone planned a lovely meal for the two of us: beautiful spinach salad, steak, asparagus, special potatoes and champagne. Loved the champagne but after the second glass I just wanted to curl up on the couch and fall asleep. See, NOT a party girl.

About 10 years ago we "did" one of those New Year's packages that included dinner and dancing at a hotel and a room for the night. The hotel room was the really important part because we didn't have to face a long drive home after an evening of eating and drinking - something guaranteed to make us a statistic. It was so much fun to dress up, wear party hats and do the big countdown at midnight with a big group of happy people. I wouldn't want to do it every year because then it wouldn't be special, but I had always wanted to spend New Year's Eve at the sort of place you see on TV: big crowd, great music, everyone looking like they're having a great time. So one year we did it even though it was ridiculously expensive and it was everything I'd imagined.

RW, on the other hand, really enjoys being at home. He hates being out on "amateur night". Now that he's discovered cooking he enjoys the process even more. Such a quiet evening is almost TOO quiet for me after I've worked all day. There's nothing like a big meal with alcohol followed by a Marx Brothers movie to ensure that I'll be sound asleep before midnight. I really need an afternoon nap if I'm going to stay up past 10 or 11. Maybe next year I'll take New Year's Eve off so I can be ready because after all the work that RW goes through to make the night special I feel like an ungrateful bitch when I start dozing off before midnight.

I hope your New Year's Eve ended with a kiss with someone you loved. Mine did. I suppose the venue isn't so important - it's the people you're with that really count.

A New Year, A New Chance

2007-12-31T18:35:00.000-06:00

There's something about the beginning of a new year that excites my imagination. I think about having 12 months in front of me, 365 brand-new days to learn something new or achieve something I've never done before.

The type of resolutions I appreciate are the ones that make you a better person. Things like having more patience or making the time to do something special with someone for no good reason. The older I get the more I realize that sometimes it's hard to find the time (or make the time) to accomplish this. And time is certainly finite. On New Year's Eve when I look back at the past year it amazes and scares me just how fast the past year went. What were the memorable moments? Did they include my loved ones? I hope so.

I do not want my epitaph to wax poetic about what a great employee I was or how well I "did" Christmas (although that wasn't a problem this year). I love my work and I work hard to do a good job. When I get my annual evaluation I hope that it results in a raise that recognizes my efforts. But it's not so easy to measure someone's success as a person. Wouldn't it be kind of neat if that's what we did on New Year's Eve? Spend time looking back at the past year and recognize people for the big and little ways that they've made a difference to someone?

So, when I drink my champagne tonight I'll be making a wish: that somehow I'll make a difference to someone this year. I want someone to be glad that I was there and that I was "me". A string of these little "differences" is what I want to be remembered for - and that's the best resolution I can make.

Bah -hum - holidays

2007-12-20T17:06:00.000-06:00

I know this great guy who went WAY out of his way to make this Christmas less stressful for me. He went so far as to write a letter to lessen the usual holiday madness that is Christmas at our house. This is a man who would move heaven and earth to make me happy and often has, surprising me with his thoughtfulness and insight. Unfortunately his plan to alleviate the stress associated with the madness that is Christmas at our house backfired.

Actually, all the letter said was that we wanted to take a sabbatical from hosting Christmas for a while. We never said we didn't want to spend Christmas with all the same people, just that it wasn't going to be at our house next year.

Did anyone call us to say "No problem. We'll take it next year" or "Let's talk about it this year and we'll decide how to rotate it"? No. What did happen was this: one of the recipients of the letter took it upon herself to contact all the other family members (except our daughters) to express her outrage about our plan to "break up the family". Interestingly this person is the only person to have never hosted a family holiday because "my house is too small". Unbeknownst to RW or me there were a series of calls back and forth between the family members that resulted in everyone believing that we didn't want to see them at Christmas anymore (I think).

At the end of November I sent out what I thought was a cute Christmas E-invite to everyone with falling snow and music and everything. It requested them to RSVP if they were attending, and if they were bringing any extra guests. Nowhere did it say "Here's your invite but please don't come". Before today the only people who RSVP'd were our daughters and my older daughter's in-laws who are coming in from Scotland. We consider the Glasgow in-laws our "other" family and look forward to having them here since they can't do it every year. Plus it avoids our daughter having to decide who to spend Christmas with. Every year we have people spend Christmas with us that we've never met: boyfriends, girlfriends and strays without family here. Do we honestly sound like the kind of people who intended to "break up the family"?

Well. Here it is 4 days before Christmas. All the food shopping has been done. The order from HoneyBaked arrived yesterday: one whole ham and 3 boneless turkey breasts because God forbid we don't have enough food (which has happened before due to the "extra" guests who show up uninvited). The grocery list included ingredients for appetizers (including jumbo shrimp), side dishes, desserts and libations. All told, the food and drink total to date is about $550.00 for a projected guest list of 24 people. Today I received 2 replies: two of the families "suddenly" had other plans - 8 people not coming. Thanks for the prompt response! After all, everyone knows that Christmas is the one holiday of the year that people plan at the last minute. Besides making us out to be family-wreckers, they stick it to us financially

Is it coincidence that the people not coming are the ones who send out invitations to their kids' parties a month in advance with a request to "please let us know if you're coming"? Probably the most ironic thing here is that we never "uninvited" anyone. We didn't break up Christmas: they did. And my oldest daughter, who is really upset about the issue, doesn't even see that.

Well. If I try to look at the bright side we won't have to shop for food for a while. Thank goodness RW took cooking lessons because we're going to need help figuring out what to do with all that leftover food.

Every Little Girl Needs a New Friend for Christmas

2007-12-15T22:47:00.000-06:00

Every little girl should get a new doll for Christmas. I don't mean one of those ugly, awful, "ho-wanna- be" Bratz dolls, I mean a doll. Since I am the best grandmother in the world *cough* Princess Granddaughter (P-G) will be unwrapping Nellie this year.

Nellie's been in our house for quite awhile now. She's been sleeping in the closet since I bought her 2 years ago. RW and I usually have a "Christmas weekend" in Chicago the week after Thanksgiving and American Girl Place (AGP) is a stop every year. It's not only mecca for the thousands of little (and not so little) girls who visit to gaze wistfully at the displays, have tea and hopefully walk out carrying one of their signature red shopping bags, it's the highlight of my weekend, too. RW somehow manages to find a place to sit and patiently waits while I indulge my inner child.

Our first trip to AGP was ostensibly to buy something for a young family member but I managed to walk out with Molly. I've wanted her since MY daughters were small. She spends her days standing on my dresser, and at this time of year she's usually dressed up for the holidays, as you see here.

Now P-G can bring Nellie over and the four of us can have tea parties. Four years ago was my first Christmas as a grandmother. My daughter wanted me to have something that celebrated the event and bought me this:
It's the Camp Grandma tea set by designer Jessica Breedlove. It, too, has been packed away awaiting the day when P-G was old enough to enjoy it. It's been a really long time since I had a tea party with a little girl (or was a little girl, for that matter) but I remember how fun it was to eat cookies and drink pretend tea.

Somehow Christmas brings out those long-ago memories of childhood. I'm lucky that I can't remember a bad Christmas. I hope that when P-G is grown she feels the same way.

It's beginning to look a lot like - - - NOT Christmas yet!

2007-11-12T20:54:00.000-06:00

It's started. You know what I mean: when your regularly scheduled program leaves to take a "station break" you're no longer seeing commercials for dish soap or for erectile dysfunction miracles, they're all about the...CHRISTMAS SHOPPING! Start now! On sale! No time to waste!

Yesterday RW came charging out of the family room emitting a feral noise that sounded something like "ARGH". Not a happy sound. In his world Christmas isn't thought of or considered until the day after Thanksgiving. Why? Because that's the way it is in RW World.
But in Mrs RW's world the first commercial for Christmas shopping is like the starting gun going off at the beginning of the race: we're off! I call up the kids and ask for requests. By kids I mean those 30-somethings that are crushed if there's no stocking hanging up at our house even though they hang up their own at THEIR house. Then I hit the internet running - or I guess typing (for you anal-retentive types).

The beauty of internet shopping (besides being open 24/7 with no parking problems) is that "Internet" always know where to find something. No going to stores that are "out of stock" even though the ad came out that day. If one e-store doesn't have it, 10 others do. The other night I completed about 75% of my Christmas shopping over the span of a few hours while watching TV (Me TV, to be precise). Nothing like watching my old childhood favorites to really get me in the mood to think like a kid. Those old sitcoms really bring back my childhood: Leave it to Beaver, Dennis the Menace, Father Knows Best. Ahhh, the memories!

As a nod to RW's sensibilities, I will wait until after Thanksgiving to shop for his present. None of that Christmas in October nonsense for him, no sir. Of course that might mean that he gets a Salad Shooter, but hey! It's the thought that counts.

Who am I and how did I get here?

2007-11-09T19:47:00.001-06:00

Something interesting and unexpected happened a few weeks ago. I was asked to take part in presenting an audio conference. This amazes me because although I love what I do (and think I'm pretty good at it) I wouldn't necessarily consider myself an expert.

In my other life I supervise a staff of 3 (soon to be 4) nurses. It's kind of hard to explain what I do to people unfamiliar with hospital inpatient reimbursement, but the short description is this:

I review patient charts while the patients are still hospitalized and analyze the physicians' notes and dictation to ensure that they're documenting all the conditions that they're treating. I look at my job as part nurse, part Sherlock Holmes. It's necessary to have a good understanding of pathophysiology, medications and diagnostic tests and their implications. I communicate with physicians, nurse practitioners, physician assistants and hospital nurses. I write and present information to the medical and hospital staff. What I do impacts a hospital's reimbursement and quality ratings. No two days are the same and the staff who work with me are the best of the best (no, really, guys!).

Prior to receiving this invitation I did some Google-ing and found out that there wasn't a blog out there for people in the same profession as me. I thought about how it sure would have been nice to have had a place to go for information, support and maybe a few laughs when I was a novice documentation specialist, so I went ahead and did it myself.

Because I am a subscriber (at least I think that's the reason) to a trade e-newsletter I was asked to participate in a conference call with other people in my profession and due to that conversation we now have our own association! I was asked to be on the Advisory Board and from that I was asked to do this audio conference. I tell you, life IS stranger than fiction!

So, over the next couple of weeks I need to keep my nose to the proverbial grindstone: write the narrative for my agenda, put together power points, and keep my nerves under control.

Last week I received my contract in my e-mail box along with the W-9 form, so I guess this is the real deal. Once I return the signed contract I'm committed (yikes!).

A few minutes ago I checked my e-mail and there it was: the proposed outline, list of due dates, dates for planning and rehearsal and the enumeration of how and when to submit my materials. Nerves, go away!

Will let you know how it goes. I'm sure that coffee and possibly, tranquilizers, will be involved.

Smokers Need Not Attend

2007-09-03T19:46:00.001-05:00

I'm a smoker. I have no other vices, unless you count shoes and purses, and we all know those don't count. I have a self-imposed two-drink maximum on most occasions, don't kick dogs, work hard and am always ready to give you the proverbial shirt off my back without being asked. Over the years, though, I've become the family outcast. Whenever company comes over I smoke outside or in the garage if it's cold (and Chicago winters can get REALLY cold). I don't smoke in the house when kids are over, and don't smoke in anyone else's house unless by some miracle, they are smokers and give me permission to do so. At family gatherings whether I am hosting or not I head outside to light up and sit by myself for the time it takes to smoke a cigarette. Am I doing anything illegal or immoral? No, not yet. But it seems like the day is coming where I'll be rounded up and sent to the leper colony (I mean, smoker's colony).

Today I was invited to a Labor Day picnic. Everyone was outside in the 90-degree heat and humidity. I chose to come home and be alone because as the only smoker at the party, I was sitting alone anyway. Why? Because every so often I would have a cigarette. This is not to say that I was chain-smoking, one after the other, but if I was going to be sitting by myself why should I sit outside and swelter alone when I could be alone in the comfort of my air-conditioned house? When I observed someone waving away imaginary smoke from 10 feet away I decided to go home. So I came home.

There are places I choose not to go for this very reason, especially if the weather's bad. I love to go out to dinner, but I don't like standing 10 feet away from the entrance if it's raining or below zero. Local and state laws now prohibit smoking everywhere, but so far no one is willing to give up the revenue from cigarette taxes. The message is "quit smoking, but don't take away the ill-gotten gains!"

It's interesting to note that while insurance companies provide coverage to treat alcohol and drug addiction they rarely provide benefits for smoking-cessation programs such as laser therapy, hypnosis, or aids such as nicotine gum/lozenges/medication. My place of employment gives employees a $10/month rebate on their health insurance premiums if the employee signs a "smoke-free" affidavit. They also retain the right to charge smokers higher premiums. On the other hand, those who have potentially severe chronic illnesses such as heart disease, obesity, diabetes, etc., are not so penalized. Why is that? I wonder that it could be legal, but it seems as though it can be.

If I could turn back the clock would I choose to smoke, knowing what I know now? No, of course not. But making me feel bad isn't going to motivate me to change. It's beginning to make me militant, if you want to know! Until someone invents a magic bullet I guess I'll be spending more time alone. So far I've tried (and failed) with nicotine gum, lozenges, hypnosis and prescription medication. Clearly, I have an addictive personality and I suppose it's a good thing that I've managed to contain it to one addiction. But there are plenty of people who can tank up in a bar and then drive home, risking the lives of others in the process.

Another one of life's ironies...

Love

2007-08-10T22:20:00.000-05:00

Does love last forever? What I mean is, is there one love to last a lifetime? When I was young and single and looking for Mr. Right (or at least, Mr. Better-Than-Nothing) I didn't think so. I thought that taking a vow "til death do you part" was optimistic at best, and better than "til I get sick of you or find someone better". But after almost 30 years with the same person I've discovered that sometimes you get lucky and love DOES last forever.

Over the years I've learned that love changes and develops, much like a growing child. It's different from yesterday's and will be different from tomorrow's. One day it's romance, the next tolerance. It exists in the midst of euphoria and grief. It's there even when you don't want it to be. Somehow love starts out as an idea, a reaction, and before you know it, it's as much a part of you as your eye color or fingerprint.

At this point in my life I've been half of the same partnership longer than I've been alone. Just when I think I've experienced almost every emotion love can encompass suddenly I'm surprised by a new one. I've come to appreciate the quiet moments where a glance can speak more than words. The subtle times where holding hands is an embrace.

We've developed a collective memory, know each other's strengths and weaknesses and more importantly, how to accommodate our faults. There have been times where the faults were glaring and almost unforgiveable. That's when the inner, fundamental love re-surfaced to save us from making the wrong moves.

Is it tenacity, or habit, or inertia that makes a relationship last for so many years? I don't think that either one of us knew how our lives would enfold when we took our vows in 1978. We were taking a chance on each other. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like without RW as my partner in life and in love. I know RW sometimes wonders, too. But I think we'd both do it all again. Just the same way.

Hidden Depths

2007-08-10T20:47:00.000-05:00

This is the first meme I've actually done. Thanks to Geeky Tai-Tai at Americans in Singapore for the idea.

Simply bold the things you have done and give us a total count at the end...

Bought everyone in the pub/bar a drink
Climbed a mountain
Held a tarantula
Taken a candlelit bath with someone
Been in love
Broken someone’s heart
Had my heart broken~hasn't everyone?
Done a striptease
Bungee jumped
Watched a lightning storm at sea
Stayed up all night long, and watched the sun rise
Seen the Northern Lights
Gone to a huge sports game
Grown and eaten my own vegetables
Slept under the stars ~I was a Girl Scout. We do that.
Changed a baby’s diaper~ are you kidding? I'm a mom and a grandmother
Taken a trip in a hot air balloon -not on your life!
Watched a meteor shower
Gotten drunk on champagne ~the only way to fly
Given money to charity
Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment~ is during sex the "worst moment"?
Had a food fight
Bet on a winning horse~better than betting on a losing horse. I think I'm 1 for 50, here.
Taken a sick day when I wasn’t ill ~ I call them mental health days.
Had a snowball fight
Photocopied my butt or any other intimate body part
Held a lamb
Gone skinny dipping
Taken an ice cold shower
Seen a total eclipse
Ridden a roller coaster
Hit a home run
Been arrested
Visited all 50 states
Taken care of someone who was shit faced ~ you puke, you're on your own
Stolen a street/highway sign
Backpacked in Europe
Taken a road-trip~ my family was the inspiration for all the Chevy Chase "Vacation" movies. Now I would rather eat ground glass than take a road trip.
Taken a midnight walk on the beach
Gone sky diving ~I maintain: why would you jump out of a perfectly good plane?
Milked a cow
Alphabetized my records/CDs~ I'm anal-retentive, but not this much!
Sung karaoke
Lounged around in bed all day ~ wish I could do it more often
Gone scuba diving
Danced in the rain
Gone to a drive-in theater ~when I was in high school this is where you went to have sex
Started a business
Gotten married
Been in a movie
Crashed a party
Gotten divorced
Had sex at the office ~does in the parking lot count?
Made cookies from scratch
Gotten a tattoo ~my body moves around so much that it'd look like animation
Been on television
Had sex in a public place
Got so drunk I don’t remember anything
Recorded music
Had a one-night stand ~more than one, I'm afraid
Bought a house
Shaved or waxed off my pubic hair
Been on a cruise ship
Spoken more than one language fluently
Bounced a check
Called or written my Congressperson
Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
Sung loudly by myself in the car
Written articles for a large publication
Piloted an airplane
Helped an animal give birth
Been fired or laid off from a job
Won money on a TV game show
Broken a bone
Ridden a motorcycle~in my long-past youth
Had a body part below the neck pierced
Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
Ridden a horse
Had major surgery
Had sex on a moving train
Slept through an entire flight: takeoff, flight, and landing
Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
Visited all seven continents
Eaten sushi
Had my picture in the newspaper
Parasailed
Changed my name ~changed it from an easy-to-spell and pronounce last name to one that no one spells or pronounces correctly
Dyed my hair~ only on my head
Been a DJ

I think that's 43; I have to get out more...

Generations

2007-06-26T21:15:00.000-05:00

It isn't often that you get the chance to reflect on life, and by that I mean really see it as an observer. This past weekend I took part in events celebrating the achievements of 2 generations. Saturday was Princess Granddaughter's (P-G) first dance recital. It brought tears to my eyes. A silly thing to cry over, really, but while I watched P-G swaying and bobbing all I could think about was how fast the years had passed since I last sat in that same auditorium watching my daughters performing with their dance classes. I cried for all the moments I didn't fully appreciate, the little things I can't now remember, and the wonder that I was watching it all again in another generation.

Then the very next day I was again in the audience. My oldest daughter was receiving her Bachelor's degree from DeVry University. She was graduating Magna Cum Laude. The pursuit of this degree began several years ago when she was still single. During this time she changed jobs, married, had a baby, bought a house, and took on MAJOR debt to pay for her education. How she managed to do this without cracking up is beyond me. Oh, I (we) helped. Many is the time we babysat at the last minute so she could study for a test, do her homework, meet with her Senior Project group. But she did it all herself. To say I'm proud is the veriest understatement.

More and more I find myself reminding myself to live for today, to appreciate the details of an event. They flash by so quickly and then they're gone. That's probably why I love photographs so much. They have the ability to transport me back to an instant that my memory has blurred with the passing of time.

P-G, who is almost 4, often asks me to tell her about things she did "when she was a baby". I think , even in her 4-year-old mind, she realizes that remembering life's events is a lovely thing to do and it connects her to everyone she loves. I hope she carries that with her forever. She is the generation now unfolding.

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage...

2007-04-01T11:56:00.000-05:00

Our second daughter is getting married next year. Next May 31st, to be exact. But, with all the hustle and bustle going on now you'd think it was THIS May. Yesterday we made the trip to the Bridal Store - otherwise known as "the place where everyone will tell you how beautiful you are no matter how terrible you look and charge you a small fortune besides".

Daughter 2, the bride, doesn't want to leave anything " 'til the last minute" so there we were: the bride, bride's older sister, best friend, and flower girl (Princess Granddaughter) and me, the mother-of-the bride (MOTB). The bride had already picked out her dress on a previous visit, so she obviously wasn't seeking anyone's opinion on THAT. But, when you're a size 2, how bad can you look in anything? Older sister is loaning the bride her veil (her something borrowed) and generously brought along the veils, which had been heirloomed with the dress in a hermetically sealed box, which then had to be opened in order for the bride to try them on with the dress. I thought this extremely nice, as it will cost well over $100 for daughter 1 to re-preserve her dress and veils once daughter 2's wedding is over.

It's a funny feeling to see your baby trying on her gown and seeing her dreams in her eyes. The attendants twitched and adjusted the dress, train, and veils until the perfect picture emerged. The flower girl played 'toss the bouquet' with the bride, who patiently played along (even when the bouquet narrowly missed a display of tiaras). MOTB took numerous pictures of the process and made approving comments when asked for an opinion. Word of advice to future mothers-of-the brides: your opinion only matters if it agrees with the bride's. You can tell her that you disagreed with her ONLY after she's come to that decision herself.

Another word of advice for mothers-of-the brides (and brides): set your budget BEFORE going to the store and only try on dresses in that price range otherwise you will find yourself spending 2-10 times more. OF COURSE the more expensive dresses will look better. They have better tailoring, more detail, and more luxurious fabrics. But it's only worn once and unless you have an unlimited fund to draw from, will anyone REALLY notice the difference? Of course not. Plus, by the time you add in the veils, tiara, special undergarments and shoes, you'll be spending more than you thought you would anyway. What mother can say "no" when her daughter looks like Cinderella off to the ball?

Then we come to the part where the maids tried on dresses so they could pick a style. The bride had already picked out a color - pale pink - that made the two attendants look pallid and washed-out. But, good friend and sister that they are, they sucked it up and went with it (I think that's written in the bridal attendant contract). But then an amazing thing happened: one of the maid's sample dresses wasn't available in the requisite color in her size so she tried it on in a color altogether different than what the bride had in mind. Fast forward, bride changes mind, and we have a new color palette! Thank goodness. The new color actually flatters the bridesmaids' coloring, and the girls have many styles to choose from in that color so they can pick something that flatters their figures, too.

I think that I have two beautiful daughters. I'm so very proud of the women they've become. Way back when they were both little girls it was hard to imagine exactly how they'd turn out. I would say that RW and I are very lucky.

Daughter #1 with Daughter #2, the Bride

Why Football is a Good Thing

2007-02-02T19:58:00.000-06:00

I am a Chicago girl, born on the near West Side. Raised in the city, riding the El, shopping at Marshall Field's. You need to understand this because this Sunday is a BIG day for Chicagoans. It's one of those days that only come along (for us, anyway) a few times in a lifetime (if we're lucky). Of course I'm talking about the Bears playing in the Superbowl. The last time I cared about the Superbowl was in 1985 when the Bears last were invited to the dance.

I was much younger then. With little kids. Working part-time, volunteering part-time, mothering full-time. A life VERY different from what it is today. Every Sunday since I married RW I hated the Sundays between August and January. The kids were mine, all mine, ALL day. RW was busy watching football. Not just the Bears, no, but every FREAKIN' team that was named after an animal, a mascot or an aberration (Steelers?). What should have been family time was just another day with the kids. And with one TV! Great! Cold weather, the kids can't go outside and nothing but football every waking moment. But then something happened. The Bears made the playoffs. Everyone was talking about the "Dream Team". I heard about people called things like the "Punky QB" and the "Fridge". The radio stations played the "Superbowl Shuffle" on every channel, every 10 minutes. I kind of felt left out of conversations because I didn't know what they were talking about. So I made the decision to learn about football. I got out the old Funk and Wagnell's and taught myself about the game. And then I watched one.

RW wasn't especially happy to be interrupted every 2 minutes while I asked him questions about first downs or penalties, but eventually I sort of got it. And then I got excited, too. The playoffs came and the Bears won the NFC Championship. I found myself feeling like they were MY Bears. I belonged!! Then, the '85 Superbowl. Not much of a game, really, it was so lopsided, but it had its moments: Walter, running for yardage, Refrigerator Perry leaping over a mountain of men to score a touchdown. It was like Halley's comet. Rarely seen, but awe-inspiring.

It's been many years since I last watched football. Okay, I confess, I am a fair-weather fan. But here I am again feeling that sense of growing excitement, that rising expectation. Today I stopped on the way home from work and bought a Bears Superbowl sweatshirt. It's time to belong again.

When I watch the game Sunday I'll be with extended family and friends. A family that's grown another generation since the last Bears Superbowl. I'll be watching the game, but probably I'll also be spending a lot of time playing with my granddaughter, watching the little ones run around in a sugar-fueled frenzy, yelling at the TV and trying to find my beer. I'll be be eating too much food that isn't good for me, much less anyone else (how many fat grams are in nacho dip?)

We don't always have the chance to be part of something bigger than ourselves. Oh, I know there's things like religion, politics or world peace, but those are kind of boring (oh, come on, you know they are). It's way more fun to be part of this group: Bear fans.

In conclusion, may I just say:

GO BEARS!!!

Who are you and what happened to my daughter?

2007-01-13T20:55:00.000-06:00

Have you ever noticed the phenomenon that certain qualities and attributes tend to skip generations? I started thinking about this after a comment my oldest daughter made about her daughter, our Princess Granddaughter, E. My oldest daughter is an articulate, intelligent, woman who is a whiz with numbers, budgeting and finance. Except for extreme intelligence (*cough*), these are qualities she did NOT inherit from me.

When she was a little girl K did not enjoy having her hair styled or dressing up in frilly dresses. She was totally late to the party when it came to boys, clothes, and the latest hairstyle. Sixth grade was torture and misery for her because of this. She was the outsider.

E, at 3 1/2, is just the opposite. She loves to have her hair and nails done. Her first pedicure was when she was 1 1/2. You know the song from the musical, "Annie", "You're not fully dressed without a smile"? Well, E's motto is that you're not fully dressed without nail polish. She loves having her Auntie Ke (daughter #2) polish her nails, put on makeup, and brush and braid her hair. Auntie Ke is her personal esthetician. E loves butterflies, ponies, fairies and princesses. Her short term goal is to be a ballerina (or a soccer player - she's a girl of the 21st millenium, after all).

I often chuckle as I observe K trying to figure out how E is turning out this way. When K buys her clothes they're almost always jeans and t's from Old Navy. She encourages E to be independent and discourages baby-ish behavior. As E's grandmother I tend to take the long-term view. No one acts like a baby forever and early childhood is over before you know it. Let kids be kids as long as possible. They're adults soon enough.

More and more I wish my own mother was still here. I remember phone conversations we'd have when my daughters were teenagers. She'd die laughing while I complained about the fights I was having with the girls over boys, dating and clothes and remind me that her * "mother's' curse" was coming true. I know that it won't be long before I'm having these same conversations with my daughter. The thought is conforting, somehow. You know, the more things change, the more they stay the same...

E looks like she might turn out to be her mother's nightmare. I'm just loving this.

* Mother's Curse: "I hope your kid turns out just like you."

Shoes

2007-01-13T17:41:00.000-06:00

People collect lots of different things: coins, stamps, baseball cards, figurines, etc. I collect something much more practical and fun: shoes. Warning: if you are a male reading this, go no further. You won't get it.

Shoes are not only a practical item that keep your tender tootsies safe from sharp objects, they are a work of art. Women who have 10 pairs of shoes or less are in the minority. You need at LEAST 30 pairs of shoes for a basic shoe wardrobe. Not only do you need shoes for different seasons (in the Midwest, anyway) but you need shoes for different occasions and applications. Thus, 30 pairs is really the absolute minimum.

Shoes are a great equalizer. You may not have the world's best figure (who does?) but you CAN have the best shoes. I don't count my shoes anymore. It's too embarrassing. No one needs this many shoes. Yes, yes, I know there are barefoot people in the world. Since it's an addiction, can I explain it as a medical condition, and thus, expiate any blame (or shame)?

I recently discovered a new website that may well put me in the poorhouse. Since any good addict wants her friends to join her, check out http://www.piperlime.com. Piperlime is owned the by The Gap and offers hundreds of shoes, similar to Zappos http://www.zappos.com. They have great sales, and if you should order and your shoes go on sale within 14 days, they'll give you a credit if you call them. This is a big deal for me, because I don't pay retail for anything if I can help it. You also get free shipping and handling and free return labels. (no, I'm not getting anything from Piperlime)

I just received the shoes pictured above. One comfortable pair for work and one pair for going out. I believe in keeping things balanced. You buy one functional pair and one non-functional pair. One you need, and one you don't. Shoe people understand this logic perfectly. Did I need these shoes? Of course, not, that's not the point. They make me feel better. And, they're way cheaper than therapy. I can buy 3 pairs of shoes for a hundred dollars, but for that price I'd be lucky to get 45 minutes of therapy. And, further justification, as if I needed it, shoes last longer.

God is not a Woman

2007-01-12T23:20:00.000-06:00

There is a movement afoot making the claim that God is a woman. No research is needed to support this theory as I offer definitive evidence that God is definitely a man (and has a sick sense of humor):

Women have to take off all clothing from the waist down to pee. Men just have to pull it out and aim.
Childbirth. The gift (?) of being able to carry life? Please. Nine months of non-stop fun: weight gain, swollen ankles, hair falling out of your head and growing on your face, pregnancy mask, vomiting, back aches, peeing 10 drops every 5 minutes, hemorrhoids, and the icing on the cake: now you're horny as hell but too uncomfortable to do anything about it!
Puberty: boys' voices change. Big deal. Our once smooth skin is now covered in zits, every month we're laid low with cramps, the mood swings make us think we're psychotic and we can look forward to at least 40 more years of this monthly bliss.
Teen years: we spend these years trying not to get pregnant at the most fertile time of our life.
Twenties: we spend these years trying TO get pregnant.
Thirties and Forties: once again trying not to get pregnant.
Men look more distinguished as their hair turns gray. Women just look old. Our gray hair adopts a life of its own, springing out in weird directions and defying even the most permanent of hair colors. Changing makeup shades doesn't work; what do you match to forty shades of gray?
More mid-life joy: hair turns gray - everywhere. AND we now have hair above our lips, on our chins, and everywhere else we don't want it. And you can't pluck fast enough: for every hair you pluck, 5 friends come to its funeral.
Menopause: oh, the joy, the rapture! Hair falling out again, and you become your own ecosystem: your body temperature goes up and down 10 degrees every 5 minutes, and you could water a third-world country with the perspiration.
Gravity: this hits anywhere after 30. Your boobs are bigger, but lower, but then, so is everything else. Waist? What waist? When we shop, we look for fabrics with GIVE.
You grow extra body parts, for example, a second chin. Not sure what this is supposed to be good for and I think the scientists are still researching this one.
Then the blessings of living a long life kick in: osteoporosis, increased risk of breast cancer, ovarian cancer, and colon cancer.

God, you gotta lotta 'splainin to do...if God WAS a woman, it'd be the other way 'round!

Cookies

2006-12-17T22:22:00.000-06:00

Yesterday my 3-year-old granddaughter came over with her mother (daughter #1) so that we could make cookies together. Although I am one of those obnoxious grandparents who think their grandchild can do anything, I really underestimated princess granddaughter, E. I bought slice and bake cookies as well as these newfangled cookies that already come in dough circles that just have to be baked. Once cooled, you frost them with the enclosed vanilla frosting and slap on an edible picture with a snowman or reindeer. I figured that this would be all a 3-year-old could handle. I was so wrong!

My daughter, K, also brought over some slice and bake sugar cookie dough in the tube, but instead of slicing the dough (the easy way), she let E roll out the dough with the big rolling pin, cut it out with cookie cutters, and when cooled, decorate the cookies to her heart's content with colored sugar, frosting, and other assorted decorations. They are the ugliest cookies you ever saw. Sort of like Monet on drugs. But E had the time of her life making them.

By the time we were done baking the kitchen was well dusted with flour from top to bottom, bits of cookie crumbs crunched underfoot, every toy E keeps here was strewn throughout the first floor and it took over an hour to clean everything up. It was wonderful. But had this happened 25 years ago I would have been completely frazzled and I would probably have thrown away the ugly cookies as evidence of my imperfect mothering.

When my girls were little I was too busy worrying about where I'd find the time to clean the house, wrap the presents, hang the decorations, and shop for food to be ready for Christmas to spend any time baking with my own girls, creatinglasting memories that we could share now and laugh about. The older generation of women would tell me how I should enjoy the little moments, that they passed too fast. But my ears didn't hear. I raced to get ahead, encouraged my daughters to be "big girls" and did everything myself. I worried about getting it all done, and not just done, but done to a certain standard. Oh, to turn back the clock!

The new me is making an effort to remind myself that the present is all I have. I watch my daughter doing just what I did when I was a young mother but she often makes time for fun, too. When I hear E sing "Jingle Bells" it makes me want to weep because I want to go back and do it all over. I would do it right. I'd appreciate the little things: the messy kitchen, the giggles, the frosting kisses. I'd take time to play more and work less.

I once had a framed cross-stitch picture that hung on the wall. I stitched every stitch myself and thought the verses well said:

"I hope that my children look back on today, and see a mom who had time to play.
There will be years ahead for cleaning and cooking, for children grow up while we're
not even looking."

I should have paid more attention. Anybody want a purple and green cookie with sprinkles? It's a gingerbread man with one leg, but it's perfect.

Domestic Diva Wanna-be

2006-12-16T14:15:00.000-06:00

Do you ever wonder what life would be like without certain conveniences? I don't spend a lot of time thinking about it, but now, especially at the holidays I am constantly in pursuit of the organized life. I never get there, but certain inventions same me time, save me work, and sometimes, my sanity! One of my fantasies would be to win the services of a professional organizer and unlimited products from The Container Store. Does anyone but me have a junk drawer in every room of the house?

There are things I use everyday and sometimes I wonder how I did things without them. Here's my list; it's certainly not all-inclusive, but contains things I absolutely LOVE!

Mr. Clean sponges - they clean everything. I don't know how, but I can't live without them.
Slice and bake cookies (see previous post about enjoying the imperfect Christmas)
Portable pocket computer mouse with retractable cord - I have to drag around a laptop at work and work in many different applications. This has saved my arthritic hand.
Swiffer Sweep&Vac - if you have any kind of animal that sheds, buy this!
Heated seats in my car. If you live in a cold winter climate you'll totally get this one.
Programmable coffee maker - nothing beats getting up to the taste and aroma of fresh coffee
Antiseptic hand gel - when you work in a hospital your hands would fall off if you used soap and water all the time
An ATM card - have card, money available
Computers - too many reasons why to list
Microwave - at Christmas it allows me to have most of the food hot at the same time
TV remote control - I can work on the computer and change channels at the same time
Toaster oven - Unless it's a big dinner or I'm making cookies I never use the "big" oven anymore

What can't you live without and why? I'm always on the lookout for time and energy savers.

The Ghost of Christmas Future

2006-12-15T21:10:00.000-06:00

Christmas, especially, seems to bring out the best and the worst in people. I, for one, always feel pressured to present the perfect Christmas for my family and friends. The food not only has to be great but everyone's particular favorites have to be included. The presents I bought need to be just what that person needs/wants. Everyone's favorite cookies have to be baked from scratch. The house has to be immaculate (it's supposed to look like no one lives here). I have to be charming and happy or people ask me what's wrong. The list goes on. But I've come to realize that I create this stress, no one else does. But is it worth it?

I work in a 440+ bed hospital reviewing the physician documentation in the charts of people currently in the hospital, ensuring that the doctors document everything they're treating, monitoring, or evaluating. More than you needed to know, but it explains why I know a lot of information about a lot of people.

Most charts reveal that a person is sick but they will most likely recover. They have pneumonia, some sort of infection, or a condition that is not life-threatening. I also read charts that tell me that this patient, in all likelihood, may be spending their last Christmas on earth. They may have just been diagnosed with a terminal illness or they may have been struggling for a long time. What I don't see in the lines of illegible writing, flow sheets, and computer-generated orders is that this person, who is frail, elderly, and dependent, is beloved by a family somewhere and will be greatly missed one of these holidays.

Which brings me to the point of this post: time is short. Too short to sweat the small stuff, and unless you're facing your own tragedy, it's all small stuff in the great cosmos of life. My goal is to try to spend this holiday season as if it's the last. To wring every moment of joy out of it. I want to give joy to someone who doesn't have any and let go of past grudges.

As the Christmases come and go, the list of people who aren't here to celebrate with us keeps getting longer. I look back and discover that I miss even the ones who drove me crazy. At some point you realize that you have more Christmases behind you than ahead of you. How do you want to spend them? Checking lists and scratching off things to do, so the holiday goes by even faster, or cherishing the disasters (so the turkey had to go back in the oven for another hour?) and reveling in the people we love?

I am challenging myself to savor every imperfect moment this year. I hope you will, too.

I.Give.Up

2006-12-15T19:33:00.000-06:00

The title says it all. My blogging husband has been telling me to "get my own blog" so here I am. Not exactly sure what I'll be writing about, but they say writing is therapeutic and I've seen other bloggers do some real (and I mean real) good with their blogs. Other people have been helped by having their story shared, etc.

So, welcome. Don't come back too often because I don't intend that this blog will take over my life. But it might be fun, so visit once in awhile.

Mrs RW