I am here. At my cottage. Finally. The winter seemed long and the spring has been cold, gray and rainy. Right now, the kids are watching a movie, Mike is hanging with the neighbor and I am sipping a glass of red wine and savoring the moment. There will be other cottage neighbors up here this holiday weekend, thank goodness! I love bunches of people, a good party, (er, happy hour), and some karaoke.

There is probably no way it will be as nice up here this year as it was last Memorial Weekend. We skied, we tubed, we were in the water pretty much the whole weekend last year. I think the water is super cold out there right now, but I am not positive as I haven't gotten down to touch it. We got here tonite and since then I have been unloading, unpacking and realizing that despite having filled the van to the brim with food and supplies, I still forgot things. Like butter, and Fantastic, and well, the list keeps growing.

How is it that I can never remember what I have brought up north already and what I was supposed to bring up? Thus, the reason I have two of Sadie's containers of peanut butter and 5 (count em) 5 bags, of blue corn chips. Oops. If I hadn't of been in such a hurry at Sam's Club today, I might have went back to the far reaches of the store for that jar of salsa I had forgotten, darn it. I should have.

This weekend I plan to accomplish nothing. Okay, so that is not really true. I am a doer. I will walk, do some beach yoga, maybe organize the cottage a little, take some awesome pics outdoors with Sadie for this blog, visit with my summer friends who I have missed dearly since Labor Day, and work on this blog. Plus of course, I'll make some good food along the way.

I have been in super speed mode all week. I think it is time for a little crash. And hopefully some forward progress. I hope your Memorial weekend rocks.

A reflection. Ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com

 I attended my first ever blogging conference this weekend, GleekRetreat11 in Holland. My brain is still on overload. Not so much from all the information I took in, although there was a lot presented, more like all the possibilities I saw for the direction that I would like to go with this blogging thing.

If they can do it, why can't I?

I am really excited (and nervous) to begin my plans. First on my to do list is to upgrade to another Blogger template and change my tagline from Thoughts from a compulsive L-I-S-T-E-R, which I now know some people think was a misspelled, L-I-S-T-E-N-E-R. It wasn't.

I am a lister and right now my brain is listing everything I need to not only do for my blog, but for the week and weekend, too. Not to mention there's a letter we got letting us know that Mitch is failing school (great). And Alec has orientation for GVSU tomorrow, yes, he is officially staying home this Fall. And to top things off, our insurance was dropped by Spectrum Hospital. Nice, good thing my surgery is done already.

So what do I want to share about this weekend? I think I will settle on some tips for beginning bloggers. Because I believe there is a writer in all of us, just waiting to get out. Come clean, have you thought about it?

Write what you know. That is not a secret. However, sometimes hearing someone say it gives validity to what you do. If you are a mommy, write about being a mommy. If you are a foodie, write about food. If you are a health food nut, write about healthy living, exercise, being organized, whatever it is that is your passion.

Someone will read it. Someone will care.

I looked around at those in the room, who, because of the money they make, or the amount of followers they have, would be considered the most "successful" bloggers in the room, and thought... I'm older than almost of of them, and in my mind that makes for a lot of material, experience and advice to share.

So, why not me?

Decide what your purpose in blogging is.
Are you doing it because you like to write, need to write, want to make money, want to be famous, have to write to sell a product or service? What is the reason you want to blog? Your motivation may make a difference in how you approach things.

Be prepared for mental blocks. They happen, to all of us. And sometimes, they can come without warning. It can be emotion that gets in the way, or life, or heck, I am beginning to think that too many thoughts equals mental block.

Don't say anything you wouldn't want your grandma to read. Just like what you tell your kids about their facebook page. Be careful what you say. I don't mean, don't be YOU, but think about the best way to say something, without offending anyone and still getting your point across. I personally cannot read a blog where there is foul language--just because. That offends me. And no, I am not a goodie-two-shoes.  Yipes there are several stories my kids could tell about my swearing in real life. But it is usually for a reason, and it won't be out there for the world to see forever. If I let something fly in real life, I guarantee there is a reason for it. 

Be yourself. Someone, and I cannot even remember who, said that they began their blog writing the way they thought they should sound, and found it wasn't working. When they started writing as themselves, their traffic grew. I firmly believe that people can sense when you are being real and honest and not just pretending to be someone. Truth strikes a chord.

Believe in yourself. I think maybe this was the most important thing I learned at the conference. I can do this blogging thing. I want to do this. I believe in me.

It is after all, about the possibilities and daring to take a chance. There were wonderful women at the conference, great sponsors (okay, so I bought the entire Therapon Skin system after a short mini facial, because my face felt so darn good afterwards, and I bought two big bags of Goodlife Granola today).  Yes, you did read that correctly, I bought granola...miss zit face/ french fry lover herself, bought skin care and granola. Who am I and what happened to Terri? Good question.

I think there was a shift in me. One from the little kid who felt as though she didn't fit in with all the "real bloggers" at the conference, to the oldest person in the room who realized, I too can do this. That alone made it all worth it! So, thanks Gleekretreat11,  for opening my eyes to the possibilities in me.

Some little things I wanted to share that were passed along to me at the conference, or that I learned the hard way from my experiences in general:

• You can subscribe to any blog via the rss symbol. If you don't see it on the blog, or if the ways to follow someone are too confusing, there is always the orange rss symbol --(it looks like a square with sound waves in it) in the top right corner of everyone's blog. Click on it and it will ask if you want to subscribe via RSS feed. If you say yes, it will show up in the feeds tab of your internet browser. Right next to the favorites if you are using Internet explorer.
• Don't forget to back up all your posts. Just saving them to the draft folder does not work if Blogger or Wordpress goes down and loses information.
• It's okay not to post everyday. Post regularly, but don't hold yourself to a schedule, unless you are getting paid by someone, it just makes it stressful and not a fun stress-relieving endeavor.
• It's okay to get an "editor" for your blogposts, to check it for grammar, spelling mistakes, and general readability. Ask your mom, or a friend, or your husband to read it before you click publish.

I could probably continue on with other things that I have learned, but I will share those in another post.

If you are thinking of blogging and you have no idea where to start, I offer to help share what I know. Goodness knows I have a lot to learn and a lot of my own questions, but I have figured some things out. And I encourage you to begin writing your ideas down now, even if the dream of starting a blog seems a long way off. Take it from someone who forgets her sentences in mid-stream. You won't remember. Yes, I am getting old.

Happy Blogging. Got any tips you'd like to share?

An episode of  The Office was on last night. Mike and Alec were alternately laughing at what I consider the STUPID banter between the characters. Is it because it is about a paper company, and I work for one?

NO, it's because I don't think it is funny. It's just dumb. And so totally unbelievable that I cannot watch it.

Am I the only one on the planet that thinks that show is ridiculous in a, it's a waste of my time, and it's not even funny way? Probably.

I would rather watch a reality show (some of that is real, right?) or for that matter, Funniest Home Videos (if we could get rid of the dumb jokes and the host) where, real, believable things happen to real people. And it is funny.

I dislike comedians, comedy shows, and I never remember jokes. It has always been this way for me. I'm sure you might be wondering if I have a sense of humor. Heck yes, I do. But, what do I think is funny?

Real moments.

All my life I have appreciated real honest humor. Now Mike might say that I like to laugh at the misfortunes, screw ups, and embarrassing moments of others, and I do! It is the way I grew up. We love to tease and tell stories and hear about people's most embarrassing moments.

Funny stories are our forte. Much to my mom's dismay. She hates it when we talk about farts and poop and embarrassing things--but somehow, we always do. Secretly I think she has finally given up on trying to make us stop and has given into laughing with us. You'd think she had three boys instead of three girls, wouldn't ya?

This appreciation of a real life situation gone bad is an inherited trait from our dad. We love to have a good laugh at ourselves, and those we love, heck even people we don't know. Tripping, falling, spilling, spitting, farting, you name it, we tell and retell the stories, and laugh till we cry. (Over and over).

Since no one on my side of the family ever reads this blog, I am going to share one of my favorite family stories which I can still see in my mind like it was yesterday. If people reading this blog like the retelling, I have more---lots more, I can share. But we will see how this one goes over. Maybe it won't be as funny to you as it is/was/and always will be, to me.
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Summer 1982

This event occurred on Big Star Lake during the summer my sister Shelly was 16. I was 20 and was dating Mike.  He was up north with my family for the weekend and we were visiting a a cottage owned by my mom and dad's good friends on a nearby lake. The adults were having a party that night, so there were a lot of people around during the day. Someone had brought their boat and asked if we wanted to go water skiing. Always up for that, since we had a cabin on the river, and our only access to skiing was when friends asked us to join in, we said sure. But Shelly frantically pulled me aside and whispered that she had a problem.

"What?" I said.

"I have my period", she said.

"So?". 

"I have a maxipad on", she said...." And I don't know how to use a tampon."

 Hmmm, I thought. I see your point.

I came up with a quick solution.  I will talk her through how to put one in upstairs in the bathroom. I figured that way she can still ski, so I won't be the only one...

This attempt to talk her through it, was a huge bust. She's a dork and just couldn't figure it out, and I wasn't about to do it for her, no matter how much I wanted her to ski!


So I regrouped and fibbed.

A little. I assured her she would be fine skiing with her pad on. Who was gonna know, right?

Oops.

Looking back.... it was not very good advice.

Of course, once I convinced her she could do this, I insisted she go first. Off on two skis she went...I stood in the water getting prepared for my turn. Mike was also standing in the water, waiting to get the skis for me when Shell was done.

I should mention that there were several people lined up along the dock chatting, watching the activity, drinking a cocktail, and sunning themselves on the beach. An audience, you might say.
As I stood in the water waist deep near the end of the dock with my life jacket on, Bill the cottage owner, stood behind me watching as Shell made her final approach.

She was doing really good....

until her landing.

Never a good "lander", she let go of the rope, a hootin' and a hollering' as she charged in on her two skis,
and then there was a wobble... a tilt to the left, then an overcorrection to the right, and then a FALL, and not a graceful one either,

especially since she was yelling and waving at her audience on shore,

HOLY YARD SALE...

.....whosh, she went down, landed hard on her butt, her skis flew off in two directions, a geyser of water rushed up to hit her on the backside and....wouldn't you know it.....

 the dang maxi pad launched like a rocket right out of her bikini bottoms. No, I am not kidding.

(Oh, and did I forget to mention that she was wearing a bikini, there were no such things as board shorts back then). Another reason why my advice kinda sucked...

It sailed through the air and I swear, Mike and I (and her audience) watched as that thing fell in a slow motion flutter down into the lake. Floating like a feather, this way and that, until,

plop!

There was a moment that everything froze, time/sound/motion, and then Shell came up out of the water laughing at her classic dismount, hootin' and hollerin', with no idea of what had just happened.

The speedboat that had pulled her, my dad leaning over the side, cruised past and he yelled out "Shell, did you lose something?".

Confused she looked at me. I was looking in horror at Mike and was in the process of hollering for him to help her.

Help her? What? How? I'm sure he was thinking.

He looked horrified back at me....I yelled "get it!" He was, after all, in the water closer to her, and I was stuck at the end of the dock with a life jacket on...besides, I didn't want to touch it. And Bill was right behind me....I was kinda embarrassed myself, knowing that he had to have seen.

Bill yelled, "Shell, what's that thing in the water?" Knowing full well, as had my dad, what it really was.

Mike hearing this, and reacting as any hero would, looked helplessly around, then grabbed the ski that had floated closest to him, and charged off at the now-rolling-on-the-waves-towards-shore, maxipad.

He thwacked at the maxipad, trapping it underwater and out of sight, as Shell, realizing what had happened by then, scrambled over to get it. She yelled back at Bill, the first thing that came to mind...oh, it was my washcloth.

My washcloth?

She swears it was the only thing she could think of, and it was sort of plausible. She had been using a washcloth earlier in the day to cover up a very burned spot on her chest so that she could tan the rest of her body, without further damaging her sunburn. So it kinda worked.

I hopped on that excuse as lame as it was immediately, to help diffuse the situation and Bill. Telling Bill, "yeah, it must've been her washcloth."

She quickly made her way towards Mike, scooped that thing up, then took off for the bathroom....
and has never really forgiven me since.

Later that evening, after we, (the kids), had gone to bed at the cabin, our parents came home giggling.

Yep, they actually started the giggling as they got out of the car, no doubt having been laughing at the incident all evening long with their friends.

Since our cabin bedrooms have open ceilings, as in the walls just stop and do not fully enclose each room, you can hear everything from any room (except the bathroom) of the cabin.

So, I snickered a bit from my bedroom. Mike, who was in the living room, snorted in laughter from the pull out couch, which only egged on my parents who full out started laughing. Soon we were all laughing so loud we were almost crying.

As we all tried to suppress it, there was a short silence...

and Shell yelled, "stop laughing at me."

To this day, no one ever has.

What constitutes a family?

I suppose it can mean different things to different people. I'll tell you what it means to me. A family is a group of people that loves you for who you are, wishes the best for you, and always has your back. It can be a blood family, or one that is comprised of a group of people who love you. I am lucky to have not only a strong family, but a loyal group of friends, who love me.

So why is today's post about family? Well, Sadie began a blog recently. One that, this time, she is allowing the world to see. I wasn't expecting her latest post. It took me by surprise. In it, she talks of family. You can read it here.

It is nice to know that our family has made an impact on her life. And that she recognizes that.

However, as is life with Sadie, the other shoe dropped yesterday. She'll be moving out soon. This time, to be with her birth mom and her little brother (again). She tried this last fall when she moved to Texas, and that attempt, in my opinion, ended rather badly.

While I admire the reasons she has chosen to try again with her mom, I cannot help but be afraid for her.

You see we have always recognized the potential that lies within Sadie. Pretty much from the first time we met her. 

When we first met her, she had no idea what it meant to think past the moment, the right now.  She totally lived in the moment. There was no talk of goals, no expectations that she would or should accomplish anything in her life. Weird, I know. It was darn near impossible for someone like me, a goal setter, list maker, Type A who is always working toward some goal or another, to understand.

So I had a hard time with this at first. I considered her unreliable and wishy washy when she would change plans at the last minute, cancel them altogether or heaven forbid, forget she even made them in the first place.

I have come to understand why she is this way. It is clearly the result of the life she has led thus far. Taken from her birth mother at age 2, to be cared for by her uncle and his wife, whom she now calls dad and mom respectively, her road was not an easy one. (Read the beginning post in Sadie's blog if you want to know more).

When her uncle and aunt got married, an event Sadie remembers, they each had a child of their own from different relationships, and then went on to have two children together. Two are older than Sadie and two are younger. Sadie grew up amongst all of them, and yet still had contact with with her real mother during those years. And some of the time it wasn't  a good situation, to put it mildly. She also has an older half brother, and a younger one, from her real mother, all with different fathers. So the family history takes some repeating to fully absorb.

Although Sadie lived with her mom and dad (aka her uncle and aunt), she was not adopted by them until she was 16. So in effect, she lived in limbo for years. Caught between her real mom, who had her own set of problems, and her dysfunctional adopted family, who had their set of problems, she has never been sure of her place.

One thing she has always wanted desperately, is love and to be put first.

She's never been able to count on the love, attention and support a family should give to a child. How sad.

That alone is enough to break my heart. I get tears in my eyes every time the thought that I wish I could have adopted her as my own when she was 2 crosses my mind. What would she be like today? I'd like to think it would still be her, only her times 1000x. (With all the love, support, direction and consistency a kid should have from her family!)

This kind of a dysfunctional family arrangement is foreign to me. I am a middle class girl through and through, and a bit of a sheltered one at that. My parents have been married to each other F-O-R-E-V-E-R and there are no skeletons in the closet. No half anythings, just my two sisters and me. So, at times, I have had to work hard at finding the understanding to help Sadie's with her struggles.

There are so many things about her situation that are not right! So many things should have been different for her. It is clear after living with her on and off for a couple years now, and observing the inner workings of her family, that she is clearly a result of how she was brought up. And please don't take that the wrong way, I love Sadie. I am proud of what she has accomplished thus far. But she could be so much more. So much more confident in herself. So much more prepared to face the world. So much farther along in her journey to figure out who she is and who she really wants to be.

She deserves that. Every kid does.

Here in our family, of which we consider her a part of, we have worked hard to show the importance of doing what you say. I think she has come to understand how important that is. I am so proud of her for the strides she has made, most of them not without some struggles. She has learned not only set goals, but to accomplish and actually cross some off them of her to do list!

She is just now getting on track again herself. And she is a huge role model to her younger half brother. She is his shining light in a world even more confusing than what Sadie's was, growing up. That's a lot of pressure for a 21 year old.

So, her leaving us is bittersweet for me. I want to keep her here, safe under my wing, protected,  loved, appreciated and away from those whom she loves, but who have such power to hurt her and bring her back to that person she once was.

But, of course, I cannot.

Knowing Sadie, she will have to experience this one for herself. Even if I think it is not what she should do.

I wish her strength in this. And I hope she knows that if things don't work out, our home is always open to her. My love will go with her, my prayers will follow her, and my hope is, that this time, I will be wrong.

And it will all work out.

Today is my anniversary. It marks 26 years of being married to my best friend!

Not being the kind of folks who do things up big (ever), we chose to go out to lunch together. You'd think that because it is our anniversary celebration, I should be feeling dazzling today. I should be feeling flirty, sexy, adorable, desirable....or at least I should make every attempt to pretend I'm feeling like that, right?

Truth is--I find myself wishing I'd worn something different for the day, something more sexy, or straightened my hair, instead of doing just the front where I can reach it, or put on some makeup to spruce myself up. Gheesh, it is after all, a celebration of 26 years together. Crud. I don't want him looking across the table and thinking he made a mistake all those years ago!

But let's be real. It is not often that the planets align and I find myself feeling "beautiful", or even "pretty". Usually something drags me down; a bad hair day, a bloated midsection, an ill fitting wardrobe choice, or heaven forbid more zits. (Yes, at 48+ this is still a waay too often occurrence, what the heck?).

Pretty sure I was worried about zits 26 years ago at my wedding. Some things never change do they?

Unfortunately this was not a day those planets aligned for me.

But the most awesome thing is that at the end of the day, he still thinks I am beautiful. And he makes me feel that way. I am a lucky girl.

Gotta love that. :)

Happy 26th, honey.

This is a repost. (Thank goodness for a faithful reader who saved the original post via her RSS feed. Needless to say  I lost a lot of sleep this weekend over not having backed it up). When Blogger went down last week it took the original post and all comments with it. Not trusting that I will ever get it back, I am putting it up again because it is an important issue, to me, and to many others who have reached out to me after the original posting. This time my words are backed up! Lesson learned.
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My son is in an abusive relationship and I feel powerless to stop it.

There, I said it. It's hard to admit. It's scary. It's ugly. It's really hard to watch it happen. But, unfortunately it's true.

His side of the story is one that is not often told. You hear about teenage boys being the abusers in teen dating relationships all the time. But what about the other side of the story, when it is the boy who is being emotionally and verbally abused by his girlfriend? Why don't we ever hear about that?

As a mother of boys, I want to speak out. I want to share my story and sound my battle cry.

This has got to stop!

How serious is it? If you've ever been in the middle of it, I think you'd say it is the worst kind of serious. To watch your outgoing, confident 3.6 GPA son fall to a 2.0 GPA and become a moody, angry, unhappy former shell of himself, is heartbreaking.

I want to scream...How can this be happening, and how can he be letting this happen?

I know the answer. It's because he loves her. And he thinks she will change. He thinks if he waits long enough, she will correct her mistakes and become the person he wants her to be, is sure, she can be.

His reason is no different than any other abused person's reason.

I've printed off the material. There are checklists and warning signs. One particular article indicated that if you had one or more of the warning signs listed, then you were in an abusive relationship. Out of a 25 item list, their relationship has 22 of the warning signs checked. Indeed, their relationship is toxic. He needs to walk away from it, in the best interest of both of them.

But what happens when he won't?

She has worked it so his life revolves around trying to make her happy. He has given up his friends, obviously let his grades go, and stopped doing things he loves in order to make her happy. What's sad is that it is not going to happen, she's never going to be happy with him.

She needs to be happy with herself first.

He tries and tries but it is never good enough, and she tells him that over and over again. He doesn't spend enough money on her. He is a terrible boyfriend. He is selfish. He doesn't spend enough time with her. He doesn't call her enough. Whatever it is, nothing he does is good enough. Think how frustrating that would be...imagine what that can do to a teen's self esteem.

No wonder he wants some control.

Nothing is ever her fault. It is always something he did (or heaven forbid, didn't do) that sends her into a rage. Of words. Of fists. Of hang ups. Of insults. Of ugliness. Of threatened break ups.

Always.

And like the classic abused person, he defends her actions and makes excuses for her all the time. She knows darn well what she is doing....she does not exhibit this awful behavior in front of anyone but him.

A while back he shared some information with me about what had been happening. He showed me some text messages she sent him. I was horrified. She called him names. I heard his side of several phone conversations. He soothed, and begged and pleaded with her. She ranted. He tried to explain how much trouble he was in here at home. She blamed him.

I have stood outside his bedroom door and heard his gut wrenching sobs. My confident, strong, adorable 17 year old, crying his eyes out? It was enough to make me want to charge off on my horse and sound my battle cry. As if there is anything I can really do.

I finally couldn't take the situation anymore. I had the confrontation no mom wants to have. Mike and I sat down with them. I pulled no punches. I laid it out for her. I told her the truth. I gave her crystal clear examples of why their relationship was toxic and explained that the way she treats him was unbelievably wrong. She cried. She promised to change. She said all the right things.

And then months later nothing had really changed. Except that after that meeting, Mitch told me nothing. Because she told him not to talk to me about their relationship anymore. That their relationship was private, and that it is none of my business.

After all, I'm only his mom.

I share this story because I want the world to know that abuse is not only from boys to girls. It can be from girls to boys. The world needs to know this. No one should ever have to be treated this way, especially by someone they love.

What ever happened to living by the thought: Treat others as you wish to be treated?

A while ago Sadie asked me how I knew that Mike was "the one". I gave her some kind of an answer but I don't remember exactly what I even said. It got me thinking that as our 26th wedding anniversary approaches on May 18, I thought I might share our story.

Our engagement photo: 1984

I was only 17 when I met Mike. He was a returning sophomore at CMU and I was an incoming freshman. He worked at the front desk in our dorm, was a bass trumpet player in the CMU Marching Band, and was also the cutest boy I had ever seen. I was sheltered, scared, homesick and very studious. He says he remembers it differently, he noticed my tan legs, white "short" shorts, and smile the first day I got there. I noticed him when he was introduced as part of the front desk staff at a meeting in our dorm's lobby the first weekend I arrived. Intrigued, I asked about him, and the mean girl of a roommate that I had at the time, told me to stay away from him. (Apparently he had a reputation of being quite the ladies man. To this day he objects to that...and insists he was just being friendly and checking out his options.)

Needless to say, I didn't listen to her.

Since Mike and I lived on the same floor of the dorm, only a couple doors down from each other, we saw each other a lot in the hallway. I learned just the right time to walk out of my room to be seen when he was on his way back to his room from marching band practice. And somehow I always managed to get my mail (yes we used to get real letters in the mail from home) whenever he was working at the front desk. What a coincidence, right? Hee hee.

I was the type of girl who did not do well "dating" around. I was perfectly content to remain single, if it meant I didn't have to go through the awkwardness of a date where I knew I just wasn't that into the guy. Or if I didn't think there were possibilities that it could end up as more. Even knowing that Mike had the "bad boy" reputation, and I could see for myself that he flirted with girls from other floors, there was still something about him.

A couple weeks after we first met, I had my first official college drink with my "room brothers" and ended up drunk. It was a co-ed dorm so, "room brothers/room sisters", were the RA's way of helping us connect and meet new friends in the dorm. It was on a Thursday night and I went to a party in their room. I only had one drink (of  Southern Comfort I think), and as a result, I got drunk. It wasn't the "tipsy", I've-had-a-little-too-much kind of drunk. More like the OMG-I-am-going to-throw-up-all-night-long-kind of drunk. Yes, I was that much of a lightweight. I didn't drink at all before college.

How is it then that MIke was the one who sat next to me in the dark, all night helping me to and from the bathroom, listening to my incoherent apologies, wiping my mouth, smelling my incredibly gross bad breath and who knows what else? I'm not sure the answer to that exactly. Maybe it was because I asked him to?

Maybe because he is just that kind of guy.

For the record he wasn't anywhere near me when I had that drink, either. The reason he came to assist me is because I, in my drunken state, asked for him. Yep, I asked one of my roomates, not the mean girl, to go get him once I realized I was in trouble and would not be able to go on the dorm hayride. I guess I somehow sensed that he would take care of me, and he did.

I figure that is when, deep down, I knew he was something special. Who would do that for someone they barely knew, and maybe a better question is why would he do that?

A couple weeks into "hanging out" after that incident, I gave him an ultimatum. Either choose me, or not me at all. Ballsy of me, I know. Living in the same dorm, it was pretty hard to watch him cultivate relationships with other girls, and very hard not to feel hurt when I saw it. While it might have been ballsy of me to issue that ultimatum, it was also kind of dumb... he, of course, didn't choose me. I like to say he dumped me, but that is not accurate because we weren't even really together. Unless you count flirting in the hallway, sitting at the same table for dinner, making multiple trips to the grocery store and Wendy's, as "together". It was more like we were buddies who hung out, laughed together, and flirted, until that hot kiss in the closet at the toga party. Pretty sure I had never felt more beautiful than at that moment. And I would have to say that sealed the deal for me.

I could almost count the number of guys that I'd ever dated, let alone kissed, on one hand, before that toga party kiss. So, even thinking that I wanted to date him, exclusively, was a giant indication that he was special to me. How ridiculous of me to even ask him to only date me at that point! But I did it. I think because I was well on my way to knowing he was the one I wanted.

The guy I dated soon after Mike and I "broke up", was his friend. He also lived in our dorm, on another floor. While my choice of this guy was not because he was Mike's friend, it did occur to me we'd be seen together, and maybe, just maybe...I wanted Mike to be a little jealous. Of what he'd let go, of the possibilities...

I think I also knew that Mike was "the one" because something always brought me back to him. Even during the six months I dated his friend, there was still a connection between us. At holiday breaks or weekends when I went home, I always stopped by his room to say goodbye. I was really comfortable around him, and confident he saw me for who I really was, without wanting to change me.

To finish our story, I broke up with this other guy over the summer, Mike and I ran into each other at the CMU bookstore the next fall. We ended up having a class together and this time, while I was a little leery of him, he was in full on pursuit of me. He flirted with me like crazy and we started hanging out again as friends. It wasn't until sometime around Christmas that we officially got together as a couple realizing that this time, on both sides, there was more than friendship, there was love. And the rest my friends, is history.
 

I'm sure the answer to Sadie's question is different for everyone.

But how, specifically, did I know? I knew for these reasons:

• because I was able to be "me" when I was with him.
• because of the way he looked at me.  Like I was all that. He still has the sexiest eyes on the planet.
• because he put me first.
• because he made me laugh.
• because he made me want to be a better person. 
• because he had a strong ethical code that mirrored mine.
• because he won over my sisters the first time he met them. My youngest sister was only 5 when they met.
• because I had let him go and somehow, he'd returned to me. This time, he was mine for keeps.
• because he made me feel safe. Like together we could do anything.

But I'm thinking the fact that I didn't question if he was the one, once we both chose to be together, is my real answer.

You just know.

May 18, 1985

Mr. & Mrs.

Happy 26th Anniversary, my love. It is so much fun growing old with you! I hope that Sadie and everyone else out there looking for the "one", finds what we did, and then just knows.

Several years ago the boys made me a card with two

photos in it. This one...(check out Mitch's cheesy grin)

...and this one! Waaay better than a store

bought card, eh?

So I've been thinking, this year, what I'd really like for Mother's Day is:

• A house that could clean itself
• Cupboards that will replentish themselves
• Dinner that will miraculously appear ready to eat each night
• My children to actually follow my advice (instead of do the opposite)
• A massage every day (okay, okay once a week!)
• Sunshine, everytime I want to lay out

Huh? What?

Oops, sorry I was day dreaming there for a minute....realistically I'll settle for a hug, and an "I love you, Mom."

Think I'd be pushing it to wish for a "Thanks for all you do?"

Wait...don't answer that, at least maybe the sun will cooperate today.

Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful (overworked &  under-appreciated) moms out there. You kick butt!

It is uncanny how many times the DailyOM message that arrives via my inbox strikes a very relevant chord in me. The post that I reprinted below was one I really needed to hear.

There has been a bit of anger in our house lately, between different combinations of people and for different reasons, and possibly for no obvious reason at all. It has surfaced between sister and brother, between Sadie and me, between mother and son, and father and son.

I believe that a misunderstanding or an argument saps strength from us, and weighs heavily on our minds even if we might not realize it. You know, the familiar I-can't-sleep-feeling. Or I feel blah. While the inner feelings that sometimes trigger that argument can be buried deep, so deep a person might not even know where they came from, it doesn't stop them from popping to the surface when you least expect. And once they do, things can get really muddled up. Stuff gets said, people jump to conclusions, or sometimes, just end up shutting you out.

I wish I could be understanding all the time, but the truth is, I am not. I am far from perfect when angry or bothered. I rush in with words, when maybe what I should really do is open my ears and listen. Sometimes the message I hear is clear, and other times, not so much. My instinct to rush in to help, to make it better, isn't always what is needed. Might be you just needed to talk, and be listened to.

It's so hard to know when to help and when to just listen. Good thing is, there will be a next time to do better.

I'm listening now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DailyOM May 6, 2011
Stepping Back From Anger

The emotional trigger that begins an argument may have little to do with your present situation, but has dug up a wound.

When we find ourselves in an argument, we may feel like we are losing control of emotions that have taken on lives of their own. When we can become aware that this is happening, taking a deep breath can help us step back from the situation. Once we can separate ourselves from the heat of the moment, we may find that the emotional trigger that began the argument has little to do with the present situation, but may have brought up feelings related to something else entirely. Looking honestly at what caused our reaction allows us to consciously respond more appropriately to the situation and make the best choices.

We can make an agreement with our partners and those closest to us that asking questions can help all of us discover the source of the argument. The shared awareness can result in finding simple solutions to something physical, like low blood sugar or even a hormonal surge. Maybe we are taking ourselves too seriously, and we can just laugh and watch the tension dissolve. We could also discover that perhaps we are addicted to the excitement that drama brings and the chemicals that our body creates when we are angry. But there may be a deeper issue that requires discussion, understanding, and patience. The more we allow ourselves to step back and examine our reasons for arguing, the easier it becomes to allow real feelings to surface and guide us toward solutions that improve our lives.

When we can be clear about our feelings and intentions and communicate them clearly, we have a far better chance of getting what we want than if we lose control or allow our subconscious minds to manipulate the situation. We might take our frustrations out on the people closest to us because we feel safe and comfortable with them, but misplaced anger can cause more harm than good. Arguing for what we truly believe can empower us and help us to direct our passions toward greater life experiences. Truly knowing our reasons for arguing enables us to grow emotionally in ways that will affect our whole being.
 
Courtesy of : DailyOM

I have been working on a blog post (in my mind) for a couple of weeks. So many people have asked me for stretch suggestions for their neck and shoulders. Although I am a yoga instructor, I am still a bit of a newbie at knowing exactly what to suggest to people on the fly. So, as a result of that....I research, and then test things out.

Just to clarify...I should say that I am no doctor, or expert. I believe in yoga and what it can do for all of us. These are just some possible suggestions for you to try, if you have something chronic going on, or a specific injury, please check with your physician.

On Easter Sunday I figured out that I get my inflexibility from my father. He asked me for stretches that he could do for his torso, shoulders and hips, to improve his golf swing. Interesting that those are several of my problem areas as well...the apple does not fall far from the tree, I guess. Or wait....what would be the proper saying?

I, like most people, tend to hold tension in my neck and shoulders, and sitting at a computer a good portion of the day, does not help the situation. Driving in a car in stressful weather or in heavy traffic, also adds to neck and shoulder strain. Many things we do throughout the day, holding a baby, carrying a heavy bag, even just sitting with bad posture can increase that tension.

Growing up I always had what my mom referred to as "bad posture". My shoulders drooped and rounded forward. I wasn't so much a huncher as a "rounder". She always said, "Terri, sit up straight." I wish I would have listened better. One bonus of yoga is that it actually helps to improve my posture. While pulling my shoulders back and down my spine for proper alignment in yoga poses, it strengthens the muscles around my shoulders and helps them hold better posture all the time. Yay.

Let's work on proper alignment first. Lift your shoulders up towards your ears, then pull them back and down the spine, away from the ears. Tips of the shoulder blades should pull together and curl forward under the heart, instantly lifting it (as if you were trying to hold a pencil between your shoulder blades). Keep the back of your neck flat, in line with the spine, the top of your head level. Doing this will automatically put you into better alignment and improve your posture. Try it right now!

Here are some stretches that I have discovered work for me in loosening that inevitable tension and help me to improve my posture:

Neck Stretch
I often start my classes off with this gentle stretch. You can do this seated on a mat or sitting in a chair at your desk. Sit upright, spine straight, shoulders down away from your ears with shoulder blades gently curling towards each other.

Drop your right ear to your right shoulder, without lifting your shoulders or turning your head, feeling a stretch on the left side of your neck. Hold for two breaths. Come back to center. On the exhale drop the left ear to left shoulder feeling a stretch on the right side of your neck. Hold for two breaths. Come back to center and repeat on opposite side. Repeat three to five times each side.

To create a deeper stretch, reach your hand over your head and to the opposite ear and gently guide your ear down toward your shoulder.

Upper Back Stretch
This stretch can also be done seated on a mat or in a chair. Either position, pull your shoulders back and down your spine in good alignment. Reach your arms in front of you place one palm over the back of the other hand. Or press palm to palm. Bend over through the upper back and drop your chin to your chest, then reach out through your fingertips as if you are diving off a diving board. Keep your shoulders on your back throughout the stretch.

Hold for a few breaths. This stretch should be felt through the neck as well as the upper shoulders. Do some shoulder rolls after to loosen things up.

Shoulder Circles
Sit in a comfortable position. Reach your arms out to the sides, shoulder height. Bend both elbows and lightly place your fingertips on top of your shoulders. Rotate your elbows as if you were drawing circles on the walls. Circle 5 times in one direction, reverse direction and circle 5 more times. Drop your arms and breathe deeply.

Shoulder Twists
Begin seated and once again, bend both elbows and lightly place your hands on your shoulders. Inhale, then exhale slowly and with control, while turning your upper torso and head to the right. Stay in proper alignment. Hold for a few seconds. Inhale and return to center. Exhale and slowly turn your upper torso and head to the left. Hold for a few seconds. Inhale and return to center. Repeat 8 to 10 ten times on each side. Engage your abdominal muscles and try to turn a bit further each time, without straining or forcing.

Cat Cow
Kneel in table position with knees under hips and wrists beneath the shoulders. Your back is flat, head facing downward. Inhale and slowly raise your head and tailbone, letting your belly move toward the floor. http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/2467.
As you exhale, round your spine toward the ceiling, making sure to keep your shoulders and knees in position. Release your head toward the floor, but don't force your chin to your chest. Repeat 5-7 times. http://www.yogajournal.com/poses/2468.
You should feel this all along your spine and through your shoulders and neck.

Thread the Needle
Begin on all fours in table. Line up wrists under shoulders, knees under hips or slightly behind. Reach the right arm to the sky, twisting torso to the right, then thread the fingers under your chest and to the left, palm facing up. Lower your right shoulder and cheek to the mat. For added stretch, raise your left arm to the sky. Hold for 2 breaths.

Return to table. And repeat on other side. Do 2-3 sets. Find the position where you feel the best stretch.

Standing Stretch 

Stand in mountain with your hands hanging loosely at your sides. Shoulders back and down the spine in proper alignment. Keeping your feet stable, twist to the right using only your upper body. Then swing slowly to the left. Gently pivot back and forth, keeping your arms hanging loosely at your sides. This stretch should be felt in the upper back. As you move from side to side, you can deepen the twist by coming up on the ball of each foot.

Most important message to take away from this post: keep in proper spinal alignment all the time.

Okay, maybe that is impossible to expect anyone to do, but the more you do it, the more natural it becomes to have good posture all the time. Think about it when you are at your desk or driving in the car or watching TV...are those shoulders hunched up by your ears?
Pull them back and down your spine. Feel the instant relief.

Don't be surprised if after only one day of really paying attention to this good posture, you are sore the next. I was.

Namaste.

P.S. Feedback, questions, comments...are always welcome.

I got the most surprising comment on my blog today from Jessica/Ramblings of a Stay At Home Mom granting me The Versatile Blogger Award. How cool is that? And what a nice surprise.

Thank you, Jessica. Make sure you stop in and say hi at her sweet blog.

There are a few rules that go along with accepting this award...

1. Thank the person who awarded you.

2. Share 7 things about yourself.

3. Award 15 bloggers I recently discovered.

Gosh...my first thought is... are there really 7 things about me that anyone would want to hear?

Well here goes:

1. I am married to my best friend, we will celebrate our 26th anniversary later this month and we have two teenage boys. Is that really three things?

2. Things that scare me: my boys driving in bad weather, tornadoes, snakes, being in debt. There might be a few other things I won't admit.

3. I limit myself to french fries once a week (most weeks anyway).

5. I am a very inflexible yoga instructor. I know that is just weird.

6. I love yoga, rock climbing, wake surfing, slalom skiing, and laying out in the sun! And entertaining.

7. I believe that you are only as old as you feel. Good thing I feel young, because I am old compared to most mom bloggers.

Okay now I get to award The Versatile Blogger Award to 15 great bloggers that I've recently come across. If you are looking for some new things to read, please check them out.
(Most of them are a lot younger than me, but are a great source of inspiration!)  

1. I failed Math
2. Coffee Lovin Mom
3. A Well Seasoned Life
4. Merry With Children
5. Living The Balanced Life
6. Urban Momtographer
7. Not Quite Dead Yet
8. Eve's Writing Realm
9. EmJayAndThem'sBlog
10. Blessed Quiver
11. Shasher's Life 
12. That Girl Blogs
13. The Road To The Unknown
14. Writing This Life
15. The Sabourin Family
16. Mostly Mommyhood (I had to add a 16th because I forgot this one!)

It was hard picking only 15 as I have discovered so many new blogs lately. Congratulations everyone. Happy blogging!

Terri

Okay we all know that it is Mother's Day on Sunday.  I am not much for celebrating a holiday just because Hallmark says ...this is the day to honor mothers, or lovers, or bosses, or whatever. But Mother's Day, before I had my own children, was always about honoring my mother or mother-in-law.  When I had my own children, it suddenly became about me. My day to do what I want, when I want... well within reason.

Now I am not the, you-have-to-buy-me-presents-type of person, just because this is my day. Truthfully I am happiest on Mother's Day to just lay out in the sun. Just chilling for as long as I want.... reading a book or a magazine, and having dinner with my family, my sister, sister(s), if I am lucky, their families, and my mom and dad. I don't care so much about any presents.

As tradition would have it, it is always up to "us" (girls) to decide the dinner fare.  Partly because if we left it up to the boys, it might end up being wild game or gross me out, a pot roast, aka boiled dinner, or fish. Ick. And partly because, well... we like to be in charge. Who knew?

So we plan a menu (like we plan all our family get together menus) and divide up the work. Hostessing in our family is an art. We get our kitchen work done ahead of the get together so we can enjoy the day without rushing around with last minute preparations.

That's code for...the boys will be grilling something.

We usually rotate through a list of our three favorites: pork tenderloin, flank steak and chicken.

This year we are having flank steak....

I will share the recipe because it is so good and so delicious and so easy. And you might want to make it for Mother's Day yourself.

Unfortunately I do  not have a gorgeous and mouth watering picture of it to post, that will have to wait until after Sunday.

Here is the recipe for Flank Steak:

1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup olive oil
4 1/2 Tbl of honey
6 large, minced garlic cloves (or 5 tsp freeze dried minced garlic--found in the produce section)
1 Tbl dried rosemary
1 1/2 Tbl coarsely ground pepper
1 1/2 tsp salt
 1-2 1/4 pounds flank steak

Mix all ingredients except steak in a bowl. Put marinate and steak in a ziploc bag, making sure marinade is evenly distributed. Refrigerate 2 hours or longer, turning occasionally.  Note: I usually marinate it overnight or at least for 8 hours for best flavor. Remove meat from marinade and grill steak to desired doneness, about 8 minutes per side for medium rare. Cut across the grain into thin strips. (Remember that the meat continues to cook a bit after it comes off the grill).

Flank Steak goes great with smashed potatoes with bacon and cheese, a salad, bread and grilled marinated veggies. Yumo! (Let me know if you want any of those recipes).

And all, of course, can be made ahead.

So girls, enjoy your time, your day, Mother's Day!

And for those few (yet awesome guys) who follow this blog.....if nothing else, please grill something for your wife! May I suggest some flank steak?

 photo: ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com

Ever felt like you were on track, moving forward step by step, enjoying life's ups and downs and daily unpredictability? And then wham something comes out of nowhere. Something that changes life as you know it.

That happened to me this week. I am still reeling. I am still processing. My head has jumped to the end of the road, my heart is still looking at the steps along the way of what could have been.

Someone questioned my ability, my effectiveness, my intelligence and my efficiency. Or at least that is what it felt like. This person does not know me well. In fact, they don't know me at all. If I am one thing and one thing only, it is efficient. I hate to waste time, money, talent, or energy. And I hate to see it wasted.

You can tell me that I am impatient, that I get frustrated too quickly when I see wrongs and want to fix them, but you cannot tell me that I don't get it.  I should have been a lawyer. The kind who debates, and who isn't afraid to argue a point, and who doesn't sway easily or back down if they know that they are right.

My parents taught me long ago to do what you say, to make your own way, to ensure no one else has to take care of you or pick up your slack. Work hard, be valuable, be thought of well. I live by an internal code much stronger and tougher than anyone else could have for me.

And if there is one thing I am not, and never will be it is a suck up. It is not in my nature to make myself look good to gain attention from those in charge. I may be a people pleaser when I entertain and hostess, but I am most definitely not a people pleaser just because someone is an authority figure.

So I find myself seized.

Troubled. Scared. Off balance.

Okay, and even a little sad.

The path before me, usually so clear, is now uncertain. I can no longer see where it goes.

I only hope I can find my way. And soon.

Photo Courtesy of  Mary Gallagher Kuras

In truth I am a little old to have taken up rock climbing. But when people ask me, why climbing? I guess the answer that comes to mind is....

Well, why not? At least that is what Mike and I said when we first started climbing after joining the YMCA in December of 2005.

We joined the Y because we decided we needed to find something to do that was a little easier on our bodies than boxing had been, and so that the kids would have a place to work out, too. Mitch was so excited to join because he wanted to try the rock wall. He'd gotten a taste of climbing on the high ropes course at 5th grade camp, the spring before, and was anxious to try again.

The start of something big! Mitch at camp ManitouLin.

Unfortunately his hopes were dashed when he broke his arm snowboarding a few days later, effectively pushing back his dream of getting on the wall by a couple months. Bummer.

Eventually he healed, hopped on the wall and surprisingly with only a little instruction and urging from awesome climbers and friends Jake and Josh, entered his first climbing competition a couple weeks later.

At that point I had no idea there even was such a thing as competitions for rock climbing.

I resisted and when Mitch persisted, I humored him, ran out to GVSU ( a local university) and signed him up on a friday evening. He competed the next morning in his first competition.

He won the men's beginner division.

He was 12.

That was our first indication that he had the potential to be a very good rock climber. And it was also when I got my first misconception about rock climbing cleared up....it's not about how fast you climb up the wall or even the fact that you get to the top. It's about the journey, the path you take.



Photo Courtesy of: Mary Gallagher Kuras

 Because Mitch was fearless, flexible and motivated on the wall, I thought that was goal. Get to the top the fastest.

But, no. Toproping, which is climbing with a harness and rope, is about the route you take, not how fast you go up. For example the "blue" route on the rock wall may be marked with blue holds or with blue tape. You can only use the holds marked with "blue" to get to the top. That means you can use your hands and feet on those marked holds. In competition, if you fail to reach the end of the route or touch/use a hold not on the route, you must come down. Since each route has a rating, you can progress to harder and harder routes based on those ratings. Thats how you get your "score".

As Mike and I watched Mitch interact with the twenty somethings he was climbing against, and admired their ability on the wall, and their graciousness off the wall. I realized this is a group I would love to call myself a member of. They welcomed Mitch into their group so easily, he was 12 for goodness sake, and they treated him with respect and encouragement. They offered him beta, (climbing term for advice). They made him feel like he fit in.

I think I even said to Mike as we watched the competition, maybe we should try this. Only thing is...at the time I was scared of heights, and still am a little to be honest. But I didn't let that stop me. I started climbing soon after and quickly fell in love. Not only with rock climbing and the awesomeness of pushing myself farther one hold at a time, but with the climbing peeps themselves. And it didn't take long before Mike followed. We struggle with not necessarily being as flexible or as young as our fellow climbers, but there is something to be said about being young at heart, right?

I am proud to call myself a climber. However, at this point, I am strictly an indoor rock climber. So maybe that makes me still a wannabe rock climber.

When I grow up.....I will climb on real rocks, outdoors in the real world. :) I promise.

Consistency: A steadfast adherence to the same principles, course, form.

Our Mitch.  http://www.ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com/

When Mitch was little I read every book about strong willed children I could get my hands on. Most of them had some suggestions/tips/ideas that applied to our “situation”, and others that didn’t. This was mainly because the “situation” seemed ever changing, we would work through one behavior and another would start. Over the years Mike and I attempted and implemented many suggestions from these books and articles, and followed advice from other parents.

Thinking back now, I barely remember how frustrated I was then. But I know at times it was bad. Since several of my friends have now become parents, yes I do tend to hang with a younger crowd, I hear now about the frustrations with their strong willed, intelligent children. Good to know that everything hasn’t changed… I guess, kids can still be kids.

My biggest piece of advice, and something that has helped us over the years, has been to remain consistent.

When the kids were little, we established a very specific bedtime routine. Whether it was me, Mike, or both of us putting the boys to bed, the routine remained the same. No matter how bad the behavior, the routine stayed consistent from our end.

Yes indeed, some days were harder than others, especially if we were tired. If I had lost my patience, which I have very little of to begin with, it was even more stressful. And yes, at times there was screaming, and the sense that those days/nights would never end. I remember thinking to myself, when is this ever going to be over?

It ended all right. Much to soon if you ask me now. But the funny thing is, the screaming hasn’t ended. Only there's an interesting twist…when a teen screams, it comes out in the form of silence. As in, they won't talk, won't let you in, won't let you know what is bothering them, when clearly something is.

I might prefer the actual screaming.

Kids like to test parents, like to push the envelope, like to be in control whether they are little boys or almost-adults. They like to see how far they can push back their boundaries. But as hard as it is, parents need to send a consistent message to show them what we expect, and to remind them who is in charge.

It is exhausting being the meany all the time. But then again, I have seen what happens to kids when parents don’t remain consistent and give in to those silent screams. And that is worse.

I won’t mince words. It gets really hard through the teenage years, maybe not as much of the physically exhausting kind of hard, as the mental. I might even go so far as to say, it is even more work and more important to stay firm and consistent as they get older. But I believe that even almost-adult kids are testing us to see what we will give in to, how we will react, and if we will love them, no matter what.

Parenting is never easy, and looking back I can see that all phases of parenting have had their challenges. Hopefully whatever phase you are currently in, stressful or not, will be remembered with love.

Enjoy the screams folks, it is better than silence.

I mentioned on Easter we played my favorite game Truth Be Told. (If you are interested, I explained a little more how this game works in a previous post.) What I didn't mention about yesterday is that I went first and here is the question we had to answer about me:

Truth Be Told when I look in the mirror I see ______________.

Here is my lovely family's list of answers to this. And remember they are supposed to answer as if they were me.

• My Gray hair (I have never died my hair and  I refuse to)
• My Eyebrows (I complain that my eyebrow hair grows so fast I have to tweeze every darn day)
• My Zits (3 people said this and I had to send them all back  to come up with different answers because that was MY actual answer)
• My wrinkles (do I have those?)
• My big teeth (what????)
• My boogers (my family has to say boogers or fart in at least every other answer)
• The stuff stuck in my teeth (big pet peeve when no one tells me)

Well why didn't they just top off this love fest by adding my thin lips, big nose, droopy eye, big ears, and pale face to the list?
And did I mention that my sister Shelly could NOT stop laughing at every answer? Good thing I love them all so much.

Who still gets zits at almost 49 anyway? Gheesh!

The thing I love most about holidays is the girl time. Since I pretty much always have serious boy time at my house, going to my mom and dad's for Easter when the whole family is there, is super sweet for me. My mom has one sister, my aunt Lo, and I am the oldest of three girls. Since my sisters each have a daughter, that makes for an even guy/girl ratio in the house. That is rare for me.

We played one of my favorite games before Easter dinner Truth Be Told and giggled until our belly's hurt.

Bubbles, egg hunts, bunny ice cream cakes, games and girl time. What more can a girl ask for?

Happy Easter, I hope yours was as blessed as mine.

 

Here's one sweet niece.

Could she be any cuter?

Smiling at Alec who's helping her blow bubbles.

She could hardly wait for her cousin to arrive.

So she could find eggs.

Maybe the boys will have to hide them better next year.

Until her basket was full.

She was so proud of the Baskin Robbins bunny cake she brought.

My sister and my other sweet niece.

Me and Sadie

P.S. I don't want anyone to think I didn't appreciate the day with all the boys in my life, because I did....it's just that there is something special about a little girl time now and then. And I felt like sharing the fun.

Nope, not one of my better moments. Embarrassing. Time Wasting.  And downright D-U-M-B.

I learned a valuable lesson today called what not to do at a regatta...never park your mini van off road.

Mini van + soggy grass = mud = Yep, I got stuck in the mud.

I made quite the impression at Mitch's first regatta of the season this morning.

I parked directly in line (off road) with all the other vehicles heading to the regatta on the Grand River. I did notice it was a little soggy under my feet when I got out of the van, but I was in a hurry to see Mitch off at the dock so I didn't dwell on this...or apparently notice all the other vehicles I parked in line with were 4 wheel drive vehicles. Uh oh. That should have been my first clue.

So as luck would have it, our family had three vehicles at this regatta. We all came from different places at different times. Good thing, because after Mitch's races we headed back to our respective vehicles. I didn't know I was even stuck until after Mitch roared off in his car headed for a warm shower. I tried to back up and got about a foot, and then my tires starting spinning. I tried to go forward but that did nothing. I took my foot of the brake and was still in forward. Not a good sign when I didn't move. So I tried reverse, tires spun, took my foot off the brake. Didn't move.

Oh no, I cannot be stuck. This is not happening.

I hopped out and the guy parked next to me rolled down his window, but he was shaking his head like lady you are an idiot, so I declined his offer to help. Don't tell Mike that part.

I managed to flag Mike down from across the field before he got to his vehicle to let him know that I was in a wee bit of trouble. He came back to my rescue. Then we quickly realized that no amount of him pushing, and me rocking it/driving was going to get me unstuck. Hey, suddenly I remembered that this would be a perfect job for Mike's new Jeep. Slap that baby in 4-wheel drive and yank me out. He shook his head. He forgot his tow strap.

(What? Who drives a Jeep and doesn't have a tow strap, isn't that some kind of unwritten Jeep owner's rule, that you have to have a tow strap and a flag in case you find some dunes to traverse?)

Crap.

Okay we decided we'd go home, get some kids to help, get the tow strap and return.

As I took my walk of shame away from my van towards his Jeep I berated myself for being almost 49 years old and doing something this dumb. I can honestly say I have never gotten a vehicle stuck in the mud before. It didn't help that although Mike was indeed parked across the field, he was parked in the parking lot. Yeah, the kind meant for mini vans, with a hard packed surface and stones and stuff.

I know I know. Really dumb on my part to try the off road thing. 

Since Mitch had to go to work soon after we got home, we woke up Alec (yes, college kid home for Easter weekend was still sleeping at noon). Son number 3, Oliver--one of Alec's best friends, was also sleeping over. I asked them to put on some old clothes and get in the Jeep.

And then I did what every sensible girl does when she's in trouble...I called my dad.

He chuckled at me, but said to come and get him. He was busy helping my mom with Easter preparations, something about deboning the honey baked ham and such, so I think he secretly might have been happy I called for help...

Here is what the scene looked like when we returned.  There was my van all alone in the field.

Yeah, everyone else got out.



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But based on the deep tire tracks, it doesn't look like anyone got out easily.



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 Alec and Oliver checked out the scene. Can you see the mud on my rear window? That's sprayed from the vehicle on the right trying to escape.



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See. Yikes.

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We brought boards to put under the tires.



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And the tow strap.



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And the boys stood by and watched....



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...As my dad got all dirty. What? My mom is not going to like this.



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The boys pushed, the Jeep pulled, my dad drove and I...

 took pictures for my blog.



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 Success! Woo hoo. And the only one who got dirty....was my dear old dad. Gotta love his "let's get this done" attitude. Thank you to all my rescuers. 

While Sadie is in the thick of practicing for her driver's test, I guess I just might need to take a lesson from her in how to park.



photo credit: ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com


I've decided that college these days is rough.

And surprisingly, I am not referring to the classes.

I'm referring to the advisors, counselors, cashier's offices, registration processes...pretty much everything to do with college is a confusing mess, except the classes.

I am a college educated (okay so it was a few years ago when I went off to school) person. But what I don't understand is how they expect kids to navigate their own way through the college system nowadays.

Institutions of higher learning now have some privacy thing where the parents are not allowed to know what is going on with their kids. I still don't get why, or why a student can't sign a form that says "Yes," please let my parents assist in advising me. After all, the majority of the parents, pay the bills. So why can't we know. It frustrates me to no end.

Yesterday I may have figured this scam out.

I offered to help a friend of mine who has been struggling for a couple years to understand her options at a local university, and before she throws away 6 years of college and starts something completely new, I wanted to help her get the whole scoop. So, I went with her to her advisor meeting.

Let me preface this by saying, I was prepared to sit and listen, and only intervene when my friend did not understand something. What was interesting to me is that once introduced, the advisor suddenly began talking directly to me...and for lack of a better word, backpeddling. She started pulling up documents, checking records and then, as she looked at these documents, she began to visibly panic. She even went so far as to ask my friend if she'd ever even met with her before.

Um... yes she has. With you, here, twice, maybe three times already.

"No that can't be, why I wouldn't have advised you to do this, I would have told you to do this...."

I thought it was a very interesting reaction, seeing as how I hadn't yet said a word, except hello and wow you must have went on spring break because you are really tan.

So why the panic? Well, like I said, I think I have figured out the scam.

Colleges don't let parents in on anything, so they can then make more money. That's the scam. Because kids don't ask good questions, or are afraid to, they only undesrtand half the info advisors throw out, and then as a result things like what happened to my friend, happen.

My friend had been advised to retake the same class 4 times by this advisor. (Well 5 really but we won't count that one time because she dropped it in time to get a refund.) Yep, 4 times. And guess what?...there is apparently a rule that in college if you take a class over again, they take your most recent grade even if it was lower than the first time you took it. Yep, you can pay again....and again...and again...and again and still not get back to the first grade you got. Crazy, right?

I finally spoke up....why is this, I asked? Oh, the advisor said, it's always been this way.

Um no, pretty sure it wasn't that way back in the dark ages when I went to college

...And then she likened the process to double dipping?

Double dipping... How?

Why? Even the ACT test lets you take the test over and over again, if you want to pay for it,  and they take your best score, not your most recent.

How can it possibly be considered cheating to take a class again, and pay for it, but not be allowed to use the best grade you got, whether or not it was your most recent?

Moving on... okay let's consider the notion of cheating. I believe that some advisors are cheating students out of hard earned tuition money or forcing kids/parents to take out big loans for what really amounts to bad advice. Or how about we call it, not very well researched advice.

Now I get that advisors are busy people. But there is no way you are going to tell me that this advisor was doing her job to the best of her ability when her advice involved taking a class over 4 times, while each time the grade went down, getting my friend farther from her goal. Something is rotten in Denmark.

 If advisors are not going to help our children, then we, the parents should be allowed back in the loop to do just that. I figure if I have been confused in the last two years by the various processes at three local colleges and universities helping other kids/friends, then how can students be expected to navigate this system alone?

I'm no brainiac but I am fairly intelligent and old to boot. Wait... I meant seasoned and wise and experienced. I have a pretty good head on my shoulders. I figure if I can't grasp something, then it hasn't been sufficiently explained or presented correctly, and I can almost guarantee that I am not the only one who doesn't get it.

People, I think there is a problem with our institutions of higher learning.

My friend is still trying to figure her situation out. The advice she received at the end of our meeting was to talk to a professor in the department of that pesky class, to see what could be done. She did that today.

That professor's answer was to suggest that she take a different class, not the one she has taken 4 times already, and casually mentioned she will need to get an A- in the class in order to proceed.

Really? First off,  I think this advice comes just a little too late. And second, can you say s-c-a-m?

Okay I had big plans for tonite. Some wine, some writing, some American Idol.

But what is more important? 

A future, a paper, a friend, a break-up or a blogpost?

You can see why my best laid plans didn't go as I planned.

But that's okay. I was needed. And you know, it felt kinda good.

That blogpost I had all set in mind....can wait until tomorrow.

Crazy night at the Spauldings.

Again.