Field Trips and Lessons Learned

Somewhere in my genetics, I was blessed with an ability to be completely be consumed by guilt. It can be about anything, but usually it involves my ability to be a good mom. Often the attention placed on my job (and that little terrorist called a Blackberry) is called into question. And, of course, this tears me up inside because I adore my family - infinitely beyond the financial spreadsheets at my place of employment.

But like most working mothers, I try to strike a balance. So after nearly six weeks of medical leave (and some MORE guilt about missing work), I took a day off to join Cole on his field trip to the Science Center in Des Moines. And it was fabulous. Almost.

The day really was delightful. I got paired with a fun mother. We enjoyed the IMAX showing of "Born to be Wild." The kids were awed by the liquid nitrogen and the fiery hydrogen balloon. Good science!

Then the end of the day came. The kids were allowed to visit, gulp, the gift shop.

Now, I've done some thinking lately. Nothing that Aristotle would find groundbreaking. But after sitting at home for six weeks, I've decided that we need to buy less stuff.

Especially after noticing that not all kids had money, I knew Cole wouldn't be making a purchase at the gift shop. And after showing me a dozen silly things he definitely did not need, I stood my ground. But it was actually difficult. I almost gave in, because he was not one bit happy with me. He was embarrassed. But I knew it would be one more toy that he wouldn't play with. One more thing to be tossed aside.

Last night, I showed him the devastation in Alabama. "See, Bud? This is where money needs to go. This is more important than wasting $10 on a stuffed animal that you would've lost already."

An Unusually Tired Cole

He wasn't listening. His eyes were focused on the TV. But I like to imagine that his subconscious was picking up on my message. Suddenly, I didn't feel any guilt whatsoever! And I had done exactly the OPPOSITE of what I normally do - I had not picked up a gift for my cute little guy. For once, I had done the right thing. And he didn't seem to love me any less.

Mom and Being Mom

I baked cookies tonight. After seven weeks of my family having to live with what appeared to be an interminably impaired matriarch, I made cookies. They were pretty bad. Gluten-free and from a mix. But I baked.

Once upon a time, many years ago, I found myself unwrapping a "care package" in my college dorm room from my mother. The only thing I remember with great clarity about the contents are the crumbly, delicious chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. No baked treat ever, ever, ever tasted so delightful and scrumptious. That combination of oatmeal and choco-chips? Seemingly mundane, but brilliant all the same! Comfort food for sure. But was it really about the taste? I wonder. Probably a little. But I think most of all it was about how the cookies made me feel - loved by my dear mom. Those cookies could've been laced with ostrich beaks. And I would probably be bragging to my kids about how my mom used to make the best ostrich beak cookies ever. Well, maybe not.

When I was really young, my mom was a Mary Kay consultant. Some nights she'd have to be gone. Dreadful. I love my Dad with all my heart, but I could never convince him that MOM DOES NOT ADD TOMATO CHUNKS IN THE SPAGHETTI SAUCE! Without Mom at home, things were just... off-kilter. Who am I kidding? Mom was a very necessary ingredient to receiving a whole bunch of attention. She took care of us. It was heaven.

As I get back on my feet again, I (in my motherly role) will sincerely appreciate the opportunity for my hubby to tell me that I don't have to pour their milk, cut their meat or put any of their precious cargo away. Certainly, most of us mothers know why we're tired. Our insane, hard-wired system sends signals that we must ensure abundant provisions for our loved ones until we're absolutely certain that we've exhausted all of our resources. Because deep-down inside, it feels good.

On this mothers day weekend, bask in the memory of your mother, or simply being a mother. Cheers to you all.

The Royal Hitch is All Over

While I seemed to be the only one in our household who cared about the festivities across the pond, I thought the Royal wedding (of what I could pick up from videos, photos and TLC's fashion journalism) was simply...lovely. But who doesn't love a fairy tale wedding? Well, plenty of boys/men, I guess.

My fascination with William and Kate stems back to 1981 when plenty of us Gen Xers watched the pretty Lady Di (with her never-ending train) marry Prince Chahles. (Of course, I did NOT wake up at 4:00 AM to see the nuptials. But we watched replays on the news and waited for articles to be published to relish in the details. No, we poor souls didn't have Internet back then. It was the worst of times. Or maybe it was the best of times...) Of course, that fairy tale went a bit awry, but is the fascination still there? Apparently!

So, what's this female obsession of weddings? Whether the locale is Westminster Abbey or the Westside Bar & Grill, a wedding is a wedding. And for me, it basically boils down to two things:

1. To see young love so pure and innocent...that glorious time before dishes and laundry get in the way. (And apparently that just might happen to Will and Kate since they are choosing to do their own chores. Crazy. I wonder if this option is reversible once kids come along?)
2. The dress. Mostly, it's about the dress. To see how pretty it looks. Kate's was quite beautiful - not too ornate. And sophisticated - seemed very fitting for her style. I actually really liked the bridesmaid dress as well. Just a tad sexier. Anyway, WAY BEFORE I became a bride, I dreamed of what my dress might be. And after I was married, I almost immediately began dreaming of what my daughter's would be....and this was before I KNEW I would give birth to my beloved Alex. Of course, maybe I'm just a nutcase. But I don't think I'm in the minority here.

So, with all of the hubbub of the royal wedding, we took my wedding dress out of the box. Funny, Alex didn't love the portrait collar - my favorite part. But she seemed much more enamored by my train...

And in twenty years, I told her it will be all hers!

Be Green on Earth Day!

Most recently I finished reading Gorgeously Green by Sophie Uliano. And if my family thought I wasn't already obsessive, just watch me now! Now that I'm uber informed of the dangerous carcinogins in the plethora of household products we use... I'm like a crazed eco-woman, determined to rid our home of any toxins that might harm my precious loved ones.  Oh sure, they look askance, utter sly remarks, and question whether this exuberance will last a week, a month, two months. But I've already purchased $100 worth of certified organic products to get us started, AND my compost pile is building up nicely now.

So eventually I will toss out all of the chemical-infiltrated products in our perimeter. But I won't shock my family's system or poison the earth all at once by dumping the current products down the drain. And I'm having some trouble convincing my beloved of the benefits of the mud-like shampoo and the "fresh" aroma of the shower gel.  (Alex thought I smelled like the dog shampoo after a complete organic scrubbing...I think she's just being a poop.) Admittedly, it takes a little getting used to. But doesn't all change?

Our new shampoo!

Anyway, on this earth day, take a look at the products on your shelf and around your home. Are they really good for you? They might deem themselves "organic" or "natural," but unless it contains the organic seal, it doesn't count. There's an amazing website called Skin Deep which allows you to check up on your companies.  It's quite enlightening.  A bit disappointing as well.  I was happy to report that one product I use from Nature's Origins scored relatively well. (I knew I liked those sales girls for some reason.)

Sustain the Earth...for our Posterity!

There is much we can do on this earth to make it a better place. I received Gorgeously Green as a gift and learned a lot about living a sustainable life which I hope to pass on to my kids...much to their chagrin. But the chagrin will dissipate when they begin to understand their own responsibility to care for ourselves and our planet. Anyway, think of a small change - whether it's throwing that aluminum can in the recycle bin or recycling your clothes. It all adds up in the end. And happy earth day to you and your family on this lovely day.

Dogs and Reading - Two Favorites!

From my Read.Write.Share. Blog ----

Most recently, I alternated between tears and smiles as my dog peacefully slept at my feet while reading The Art of Racing in the Rain - a tale narrated by a dog. Enzo is the most clever of dogs - interpreting his surroundings infinitely well (including the English language) which leaves this novel completely rich with detail.

Of course, Enzo is handicapped by his inability to speak (tongue is much too long) and his lack of a thumb. So all he really has "is gestures." But as we all know, dogs perform amazing feats - to stir or sooth our emotions - using...gestures! Throughout this compelling story line - of a race car driver who must fight for custody of his daughter - Enzo never forgets his purpose.

All dog lovers will relish in this book. Race car enthusiasts will also be amused. And those who appreciate strong prose will think, "Smart dog."

This morning I sat on the floor, attempting to stretch my legs. My faithful dog, Percy, decided to join me. I thought to myself, "I wonder if he understands more than we even realize." So, I looked into his big brown eyes as he wagged his tail. Then I gently reminded him,

"Remember what I told you about not putting your paws on my tummy right now. That would be a no-no. Because it hurts pretty bad."

He wagged a bit more. Before reaching his little paw right over to my sore belly. So, he might not have Enzo's mind. But he does have gestures. And that's all he needs. That's all we need, Percy.

Our Percy...

Tell Me A Story!

Tonight we ventured to Mom and Pop's for a roast beef dinner, compliments of my Uncle Curt. It was quite enlightening. Really.

I heard a story about my dad today that I've never heard before. (Gosh, it sort of sounds like I'm talking about him as if he's dead. No worries - he's not!) I tend to assume that I know everything about my parents. Apparently I don't.

Alex had gone go-carting at a birthday party yesterday. So Mom brought up how Dad had wall-to-wall trophies from all his go-cart racing days. My Dad? Really? I looked to my father who was nodding with what I think is his half-smile.

So then Dad told us how his father would engineer go-carts that couldn't lose: by tearing apart a six-horsepower single motor on the kitchen table, scrupulously cleaning each working part until the machine was more than merely a go-cart, and finally training his son how to wisely maneuver corners so no one could beat him in any class. Imagine the disbelief when 30-year old men were losing to a 14-year old chap. (Although, Dad admitted there was one guy he could never beat. Everyone has his nemesis.)

"So, were you scared when you raced?" Cole asked my dad.
"Every time," Dad answered without batting an eye.

But when Dad started talking about the "unsponsored" drag racing that occurred later in his teenage years, he didn't mention any fear. And once after coming home from being sorely defeated from a race on his 45 Harley (and assuming he had outsmarted his Dad by not letting him know of his extra-curricular racing activities), his father asked him, "Well, how'd you do?" You might be able to hide stuff from your children, but it's hard to pull one over a keen parent.

Mom and Dad in Oahu

Anyway, how often do we take the time to sit down and share stories? Hardly ever. When we're little, we beg our mommies and daddies to "Tell me a story!" Then we grow up and convince ourselves that we barely have time to flush the toilet. (Actually, Cole doesn't have time to do this now.) Well, I'm going to start asking for more stories. And not only from Mom and Dad - I bet my aunts and uncles have a few colorful yarns to spin. I'm all ears.

A Big Day

Today was a big day for me.

• I wore normal underwear! Seriously, I've been wearing my hubby's "Hanes" boxer-briefs since the surgery. So what if it happens to be the biggest pair of panties I own! Actually, the doctor said it was okay if I wore men's undies. Just as long as Doug didn't start wearing mine...
• I ventured out to watch my son play (and lose) his first soccer game. While I only sat in the pickup the entire time, the change in scenery from my living room walls to the brown Iowa grass was breath-taking!

Well, that was about it. I'm pooped. It's been a fabulous day.