Winter is Coming. Yay for TV.

"Repeat after me," said my son. "Dae-ner-ys Tar-gar-y-en."

I pronounce as he has instructed. I think the exercise is over. But he goes on.

"Stormborn, House of Targaryen... yada yada yada"

He is annoyed by my lack of knowledge and mispronunciations of the Westoros world.

It was only a few years ago when I told my husband he couldn't watch the show. All that gore and nudity? We have kids for goodness sake! We need to use discretion! Turn it to Family Guy, will ya?

Back in the Family Guy Days

Fast forward to 2019. Amazon Prime and Netflix have opened the floodgate on television programming. As it turned out, Cole discovered Game of Thrones on this own –the very show I prohibited Doug from watching. Now we're all watching it. (Cole is on his second tour.) Undoubtedly, it's uncomfortable watching "love" scenes with your kids. I simply diffuse the awkwardness by turning my head and asking Cole about Algebra or Chemistry. This typically works unless it's a noisy sex scene. Gosh, I never thought I'd be a mother who would watch this type of show with her kids. But, I have to! I'd be lost without my son's guidance. So many characters. So many families. So many realms. Who can really tell the difference between a Baratheon and a Tyrell anyway?

Amazon and Netflix has created a phenomenon that seems part soap opera and part book club. Our family will wear out the remote looking for a series that will engage us all. As many of you probably know, it's not so easy. Certain stories don't always appeal. (I'm only allowed to see Mrs. Maisel once a week.) But there's nothing like finding that magical storyline that enamors your entire family. And when you find out a friend is watching as well? Jackpot! You don't just want to discuss it with others, you NEED to discuss it with others. Despicable characters. (He reminds me of Dad!) The lovely ones. (Don't you just love that whore?) The plot twists! (I'm never watching this show again! Until tomorrow.)

When I was growing up, it was a well-known fact that watching too much television was going to ruin us kids. Now, video games and phones have taken on that role. I find myself saying to Cole, "Get off your phone. Turn off your PS4. Come up and watch some TV with us." Then I giggle, thinking about my wise parenting. It's almost like the time when I was worried that Alex was drinking too much milk and asked her if she'd like a Sprite instead. But I digress. Watching TV didn't turn out to be the worst thing. Did anyone ever quit pursuing a career  because of an addiction to TV? No. I don't think so, anyway. What we were really addicted to is a good story that allowed us to escape and share. And while a good book can serve the same purpose, television and movies do this with a bit more efficiency –as long as you don't spend too much time browsing options.

I'll close this post with a funny clip of one of my favorite GOT characters: Jon Snow, who attends a dinner party with Seth Meyers. If you're not familiar with Game of Thrones, just know that Jon Snow is a very serious man who has had a tough row of it.

Winter is Coming. Actually, it's here, Mr. Snow. The best part of winter? Lots of TV.

And Dad– just kidding.

A Splash of Orange

For many years now, my most consistent form of exercise has been walking our gravel road. With its Mt. Everest hills and ever-changing scenery, I never get bored. The wildflowers in the ditches change each year. Once in a while, a goldfinch or cardinal will show off their colors. And sometimes, Percy gets to chase a deer.

Yellow. Yellow. Yellow.

The other day I was walking along, admiring waves and waves of yellow flowers (the technical name), and I noticed a small splash of orange. I stopped my trek to admire this small and almost obscure spray of flora. I even stepped into the ditch to inspect. I was enamored. I might still be there if I hadn't been a bit concerned about snakes hiding in the long weeds.

This experience took about two minutes of my day. And it preoccupied the rest of my walk. How often do I ever take a minute to enjoy something? How often do any of us do this?

When the kids were little I would walk with them on this same gravel road. And I'd become impatient with the all of the stopping to collect rocks and pick pull-apart grass. I had stuff to do! I can't remember what. But apparently it was something important. Probably laundry. I'd do anything to go back to that time and let them take as long as they wanted. Skip the laundry.

We do everything so fast in our lives. We eat fast. We have sex fast. (Did I say that?) We DVR so we can get through our shows more quickly. Sometimes, and I realize this is a sin, I skim books. Now that is a shame.

We're too busy to savor.

I attended the funeral of a best friend's grandmother today. My heart flipped when I had heard she died. She was a very young 96, living in her house up until a few weeks ago. Violet was the sweet lady who always, always had time for you. Like all good grandmas, she fed us well and created amazing concoctions like Tang with 7-Up. But the best part of visiting her was how she always listened and laughed – always having time for you. She had the loveliest of laughs that will be forever imprinted in my heart. There was a reason her funeral was packed full of people.

Between the recent loss of a childhood icon and my brush with pretty orange flowers, I've decided I need to make some changes. Instead of calling Alex only to remind her to take her allergy meds, I'm gonna let her educate me on something she's passionate about, like being the laxest vegan on the universe. And rather than focusing on how Cole still can't flush a toilet, I'm gonna share his enthusiasm over a story about that one NBA player that did something cool that one time. And maybe, just maybe, I'll make them some Tang and 7-Up. The perfect splash of orange.

Can you see the prettiness between the weeds?

#dadconversation with mr. cellophane

For anyone who knows my husband and me, it will come as no surprise that I introduced myself first. As a matter of fact, when I mosied over to the cute guy standing against the wall in the bar and asked, "Do I know you?", he quickly replied. "I don't think so. And I'm divorced."

I couldn't help but giggle at the sweet and shy response. I knew right then I was in love. Beyond the cuteness factor, I was startling drawn to his unassuming manner. Doug very much condones the mentality of "blending in and not making a fuss." If something is wrong with his restaurant order, I'm the first to flag down the waitress as he holds my arm down to say, "That's okay. It's fine." This attribute of not wanting to draw attention to himself and can be amusingly problematic. There's a standing joke with our friends how he's always the guy who gets forgotten. When drinks come back for everyone except Doug, we will look at each other, and mouth the lyrics to "Mr Cellophane." (Yes, my husband has been to a Broadway musical.)

In the spirit of the mom conversation series, I decided to mix it up to honor my soulmate who celebrates his birthday this weekend. It wasn't easy attaining this interview, but I somehow I did it. Hope you enjoy.

Quick Bio: I've lived in Earling all my life. Currently I farm and am married to a beautiful and talented wife (Stef) with the most amazing kids (Alex and Cole).

Note: Doug didn't actually say this. He actually said, "You know my life." I embellished his response.

Favorite Family Tradition: I don't know Honey. You mean our family? Like the four of us? Let me think about it.

Most surprising lesson you've learned about being a father?  (Laughter.) Why are you asking me this? Okay. Let's see. I think it's how much smarter the kids are than me.

Note: Alex piped in here to explain how she and Cole actually pay attention in school. Brownie points kid.

Opinion on Work/Life Balance:

Note: Here Doug scrunches his eyebrows and asks, "Why are you doing this with me? Isn't this supposed to be a mom thing? After some wifely persistence, he talks.

I do my work first. If there's something going on, I do that, then I do my work. That's all there is to it.

Note: This is the most succinct response I've received on this question...

Guilty Pleasure: Drinking beer, probably.

Note: Not probably. Definitely.

Go to Movie: Any of the Bourne's. Not porns, Bournes.

Most used App: Grower's Edge.

Note: This is an app to check the grain markets. There is no doubt Doug checks this app, almost incessantly on certain days, as most farmers do. I would also argue that the Solitaire app is a close second. 

Celebrity Obsession: Milas Kunas.

Note: There was no hesitation here. Not one millisecond. 

How you recharge: Drinking beer and spending quality time with my wife.

Note: "Quality time with my wife" was not what Doug said. I rephrased this. It's a PG-13 blog, as noted in other blogs.

Last book you read and couldn't quit thinking about: (Laugher, again, as if the question were impossible before he realized he's not all Mr. Baseball and does read occasionally.) Oh! One of the Dan Brown's.

Note: Author of the The Da Vinci Code, Angels and Demons and Inferno. My hubby likes a smart thriller.

Favorite Kid Story: Taking the kids on rides. The photos of my scared family always makes me laugh. Also, teaching the kids to drive.

What advice do you have for new parents?  Don't do it. Kidding.  I actually don't think I'm in any position to give advice. I don't consider myself an expert at parenting.

Note: Who does? But I found the honesty of this response refreshing.

Anything else you'd like to add about being a working dad? Working dad? What do you mean? Don't all dads work?

Note: Yes. True. And so do all moms. Why do we even bother with these redundant terms?

I finished the interview with Doug squeamish about the idea of being featured. Again, he's not one for attention. So, before this can be edited by my unassuming mate, I'll end with this message to him:

Doug, you're my favorite guy. A guy's guy with a nose for sports and beer. A guy who laughs easily. A guy who is unmistakably honest. A guy who loves his family above all. That's the best thing about you. That and your cute butt.

If this embarrassed you, I'm sorry but not really. Love ya to pieces, Mr. cellophane.

#familyvacation2016

There's rarely a day I don't have at least one fleeting thought about vacation. Where to next? Should we go there again? Kids or no kids? These questions have been frequenting my mind more so than usual lately. Maybe it's because...I just got back!

The fam dashed off to Kansas City where we 1) witnessed an MLS soccer game for the first time in 150 degree weather, 2) cheered on the unlucky world champions known as the Royals, and 3) took a sprint through the Plaza that could hardly qualify as shopping. While the trip was short, it was meticulously calculated to ensure a little something for everyone. For the most part, we achieved that goal. And I found myself contemplating how to ensure a successful family vaca. Here are some thoughts:

• Mediators (aka moms) are a necessity and must have the skill set to offer quick and multiple options for recreation. E.g, bar with cold beer, theater with funny movie, the modern jazz museum. (Always throw in that one thing you know your family will reject. It will make other options seem grand.)
• Kids have vastly different room standards than parents. Apparently in the eyes of the youth, all hotel rooms are penthouses, no matter how much hair decorates the bathroom.
• Shopping, even in its most basic form, can be achieved as long as the following statement is issued with conviction: "Ooh. I need to stop in Sephora. I'm out of ________." Fill in the blank with any phantom product. (zitsbegone. makemesmellgood. mickjaggerlipbalm.)
• You can never have enough phone chargers.
• Sleeping in the closest of quarters is one of the greatest tests of a family's love for each other. And love doesn't reflect itself as you stake your place on a bed made for 1.5 people.
• Workout clothing are appropriate for any event. THIS IS THE BEST FOR SURE! As a GenXer, I still require my kids to bring one set of nice clothes. For Cole, this means a shirt that isn't from a sports camp.
• You will never, ever pack everything you need. But pack your necessities first: migraine medicine and Breathe-Rights.
• Immediately locate the Best Buy when you need to purchase a new phone charger. Pokemon Go sucks...an alarming amount of juice.
• Someone is going to get cranky. In the words of Elsa, let it go. Let it go quickly and don't forget that oh-so-important bar option.
• Make sure everyone has the Snapfish app, so you can all download the pictures each of you took on your separate phones. (Wow! A real tip.)
• Vacation is the best time to allow nostalgia to set in. Listening to your kids retell memories of past trips gives you just a wisp of comfort in that perhaps you aren't such a bad parent.

I do love vacations. But I must confess. One of my favorite parts of traveling is coming home. I love the security of our comfy abode, and the fact I will undoubtedly sleep comfortably in our king-sized bed. I love picking up the dog from boarding to discover he does have the ability smell good. I love coming home and realizing how much I love coming home.

Siblings on vaca now.

Siblings on vaca then.

Genius?

If you've ever had a conversation with my 8-year old son, chances are you didn't follow the entire discussion. I've listened as a third party to many of his visits, and usually I find myself interrupting to interpret his discourse. Honestly, I don't always follow him as well...one such occasion occurred today as he and Doug were trying to communicate. But I couldn't even help today. Finally, I'm thinking that perhaps it's a generational thing so I asked Cole, "Do your friends always understand what you're talking about?"

Without hesitation he replied, "No.Usually they don't."

Okay then. So either I have a little genius on my hand (i.e., he's so intelligent, no one can understand him), or I....don't. Nonetheless, he's an interesting little creature. I was going through his papers later today and discovered this and was quite impressed.

I asked him if it was Chicago. He said, "No, it's New York City. See the Empire State Building?"

I nodded and agreed it was very good. Then I asked what was the assignment about.

"We had to draw a theme so people don't smoke. See my no smoking sign there?"

Of course. Say no to smoking. Otherwise, you might miss sight-seeing in New York. How could I not follow that line of reasoning?

SUTRAS

So, I like to write. I don't proclaim to be a great writer, but I aspire to be one! And great writers should write every day...so I'm told. Well, despite the amazing life I lead, I don't always have post-worthy subject matter. However, I often come up with bit-sized AHA! moments...as seen in Oprah, but written by more intriguing people. (I believe that Deepak Chopra would define these as "sutras" for the deeply insightful. (See blog post a few weeks ago...) Anyway, a few fleeting thoughts to close out the week:

*Sesame Street turned 40 this week. It really made me feel young, since we are the same age. (Alex clarified that technically I'm older.) Man, 1969 was a great year!
*My son has suddenly outgrown Batman and become obsessed with the NFL. Why does this make me happy when I was deeply saddened when my daughter declared princesses passe'?
*Seriously, I just yelled at my son to turn off his DS and to "come in here and watch TV." That is a very sad statement.
*My daughter keeps secrets so well, it's disturbing. I informed her of a WSJ article that claimed kids who shared "romance" information with their parents ended up with the most stable and compatible mates. She's still not talking.
*My mother helped me buy a turkey roaster today. It's like a whole new dynamic between me and my mom. She told me that she's been making gravy since she was a kid! I'm still thinking I better purchase "gravy in a jar" since I'll have enough on my plate on turkey day.Did I mention that we are hosting Thanksgiving? I'm kind of excited. Now I have a baster and a roaster and a very cool table cloth.
*I bought one of my Dad's Christmas gifts today. It's like so completely cool, but I can't divulge for the slight chance he's reading this post. It was really, really, really expensive though. Hope I can afford stuff for the kids.

That's it. All my inspiration. Actually, I just need to get back to Dan Brown. Have a great week.

On Turning 40, Part II

So, after writing my last post on turning 40, I interviewed my hubby on the topic. I asked him to list what he DIDN'T like about being 40. At first, he seemed perplexed - as if thoughts on turning forty had never even occurred to him! Finally, I pulled a few things out of him.

Things a Guy Doesn't Like About 40:

1) Body hurts all of the time. (Comment: You should see what he still does to himself...he's too old to slam balls into the biddy-ball length basketball hoop.)
2) Inability to drink as much beer as he used to. (Comment: This is a good thing.)

After naming those two items, Doug paused and said, "Hmmm. I seem to be drawing a blank." Then he came up with another-

3) Forgetfulness.

Then he really couldn't think of anything else and wanted to hear mine. So, after mentioning my list of my appearance deficiencies , another occurred to him --

4) "Oh, yeah, thinning hair!" (Comment: It doesn't bother him so much to use the Nioxin I bought him. You gotta love a guy's lackadaisical perspective on looking good.)

And that was it for the tough-side of 40. Now, what he likes about our age:

1) He's still not 50.
2) Being able to afford things.
3) Watching the kids grow up.

There you have it. So simple. So poignant. Sometimes it takes a list to remind us what's really important.
Here's Doug, spending quality time with the kids at the top of the Willis Tower, aka the Sear's Tower.

On Turning 40, Part I

Things I DON'T like about being 40:

1) My cottage cheese belly (actually started at age 32).
2) Low hanging fruit...not the kind you pick to produce better results.
3) More aches and pains, especially in places you didn't realize you had.
4) Crow's feet, around my lips.
5) Muffin tops hanging over my jeans, shorts, skirts, etc.
6) The fleeting nature of our kids' naivety.

Okay. Reality check. Except for #6, all complaints derive from vanity's perspective. So, have I ever felt good about how I looked? I tried to remember my self-perception twenty years ago and came up with a few things I actually LIKE about being 40:

1) While my tummy isn't so great, the baby fat on my face has subsided.
2) Lower fruit often looks like less fruit, allowing better-fitting shirts.
3) The capability of paying for massages, to ease the intensifying aches and pains.
4) Effortless laughter, to keep the crow's feet around my lips even more embedded.
5) Being mistaken for pregnant, while wearing baby-doll shirts to hide those pesky muffin tops. Who cares if the accuser is thinking to herself how gross for that old lady to be pregnant?
6) Watching our kids grow up to be interesting and caring individuals.

See how much fun this 40-year old Mom had fun with her kid's at the museum?

Okay, it's not so bad being 40. Watch for tomorrow's post: a guy's perspective on turning 40...

What I Need To Get Done!

Monday:
1. Sleep until 9:00
2. Review session at 10:30
3. Go to Jessup and pay bill
4. Study for Lit & Theory exam.
5. Drink with Meg and Jean.
Tues:
1. Go to class 15 minutes early, practice progressions.
2. Dictation exam (8:30)
3. 9:30 to 10, practice sight singing.
4. Chem lecture at 10:30
5. 4:30 watch Jeopardy and clean room.
6. Go jogging after supper.

...As I was digging through some sheet music the other day, I found an old tablature notebook from my freshman year in college. Not only did I find Led Zeppelin lyrics, alphabetic listings of my favorite rock bands and music assignments, but I also found a few pages of my lists! Above is a small example. Look at the time I had in between my tasks...that was quite a life. Interesting...There were few "practice piano" tasks for being a piano major. Apparently it was more important to keep my mind sharp by watching Jeopardy.

Oh, to be young again. On the way home from Chicago, my family had to endure another walk down memory lane as we drove through Iowa City. Luckily for Doug, there was a jazz festival going on downtown. As we walked through the crowd, I was immersed in the energy of the eclectic youth surrounding us.

My college to-do lists left plenty of time for leisure. Perhaps I need to take a lesson from my youth. My current lists are chock full, from sun-up to sun-down. Why is that? Because obviously, I haven't grown wiser with age...but, guess what? I'm gonna change...so before I sign off to "live in the moment", I'll leave you with this poignant Kung Fu Panda quote:

"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. But today is a gift -- that's why it's called the present."

A day at the Chicago Field Museum...living in the moment by walking through the glorious past...

In Honor of Father's Day!

In honor of Father’s Day yesterday, I devote this week to the men in my life. Since Cole tends to get the spotlight, I’ll begin with someone who only makes an occasional appearance on this blog. I feel just a tinge of guilt. He really IS an important part of my life, and he often provides great fodder for blogs. But it’s just so hard to beat the words that come out of my kids' mouths.

Anyway, here’s to my dad. He has many formidable traits, and I listed them below in the order I think he would prefer:

1. Good looking, not appearing a day over 60. (He’s actually 62!)
2. Modest, really.
3. His ingenious mechanical mind, of which I inherited absolutely none of it. I can’t even rebuild a 1960 Panhead.
4. His financial acumen. (Only he and my mom will get this joke).
5. Obtains the best Cole confessions ever. (“Grandpa, you know when your daughter (my mom) was a baby and she was a lot of work? Well, I’m not gonna get married because I don’t want that stress.”)
6. How he remembers every detail of a 1928 JD Harley, but he can’t remember how to spell my name...Steffffenie, Daphne, etc.
7. The joy he brings our kids. No kidding on that one..he never tells them no.
8. Finally, and most importantly, his plan to take us to Hawaii next year. You just can’t beat that.

But seriously, as is with most daughters (including my own), I believe my father to be the funniest man on earth. I can always count on him to make me laugh, no matter how crummy I feel. Thanks Dad, you’re #1 in my book.

Pictures this week will have nothing to do with the men I feature, but I thought I’d share a bit of the wildlife at our farm...have you ever seen a more stupid-looking cat? He's actually quite pretty when he's not posing.

Uh-Oh. Here We Go Again...

So when school got out I asked Cole how he planned to spend the summer.

"Watching TV and playing video games."

Wrong answer. Since I'm from the imperfect philosophy that one must constantly be involved in an activity to provide some sort of tangible good, I decided to put parameters on the kids' summer. Of course, I do this every year... (Chores, reading time, outdoor activities involving physical exercise, etc. My success rate has been fairly low, however.)

In addition, I signed Cole specifically up for baseball, in hopes to spur the same passion his dad had for the game. Well, so far, it's been a bit like pulling teeth. Oh, he likes the camaraderie and the concession stands, but his love for the game hasn't quite peaked yet.

Or, maybe the kid's passion lies somewhere else...last week my dad and Cole finished a monumental project...Cole's first homemade Chopper. They cut up one of his old bikes and voila'.

Yesterday, Dad took Cole out for some test driving (baseball helmet intact). It must have been heaven. Cole confessed last night that there's nothing he would rather do than ride his chopper, every day, all day long.

Scary. I wonder if I can talk him into playing a nice little video game.

The Thing about Grandpa

Success. My kids are fed before 9:00 this evening, one is showered and one has socks for tomorrow. Sorry, I don't mean to brag...

So, the other evening, we're driving home, having another thoughtful discussion when Cole mentions, with a devious smile,

"Grandpa gave me a sip of beer tonight."

"What! No way. I'm gonna call him."

I call Dad, get voicemail. "Dad. Um, well, I'm just a little concerned. Cole told me that he shared a beer with you, and frankly, I think he's too young."

I don't receive a call back, but later that evening Cole has a secret conversation with Dad.

"Cole, I think we're in trouble. I got a voicemail from your Mom. We need to get our stories straight here. So, if she asks you anything, tell her that you only had one beer. Got it?"

"Okay. Got it, Grandpa."

I guess he pulled that one past me. Wonder if I can get Dad to convince Cole that cleaning one's room is a misdemeanor, that no mother should know about.

Too much Sprite? Or Beer?

Crusty Nickelback T-shirt

Cole begged and begged for us to take him to the Nickelback concert. After the Bon Jovi ordeal, in which we missed much of the concert, we swore off concerts for Cole until he was at least ten. So, to make up for not indulging Cole in the concert I asked my friend, Penny, if she would pick up a Nickelback t-shirt since she was going.

Needless to say, he was thrilled with the black tough-looking Nickelback souvenir. He wore it for three days after receiving the precious shirt. (Luckily he didn't have school, so his Cheeto stains were only noticed by his parents.) I finally made him take it off, so I could at least launder it.

Good thing too! Because he needed to wear it the following Monday. So, instead of washing it with my next load of darks, I decided to leave it in the hamper awhile. Then Thursday came, and Cole came walking out with the filthy t-shirt. (As all mothers know, a 7-year old boy can only wear a shirt once before a good Oxyclean-infiltrated washing is necessary.) "No way, Cole. Put a clean shirt on." Dejection. Luckily, he has five more black t-shirts that, at the very least, remind him of his prized t-shirt.

This weekend, I found myself washing darks, and threw old Nickelback in the machine. So, when I folded Cole's t-shirts, I carefully placed it in the bottom of the t-shirt pile, fairly hidden. As you might guess, this morning, as we were ready to leave for church, Cole comes out of his bedroom, wearing his trusty, Nickelback shirt. "Sorry, Cole. Let's show a little more respect for God today. Especially since it's our turn to give offertory."

Next time, Pen, let's pick up a few more Nickelback shirts -- perhaps one for each day of the week. Except for Sunday.