Walk away from the CRAZY

OK, this has nothing to do with this post

but here is a sneak peek at our sink

There is a lot more built - next post

KITCHEN UPDATE!!

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It has been a long week. Between work, kids, home, and sports it has been a lot to keep straight. Then throw in a visit from a favorite MS friend, optic neuritis. It makes the challenging more challenging. It makes me have to choose. Time to choose between the events and priorities that I can't miss or I will be sad and those that I need to miss and will be sad. The choices are not easy.

It is difficult to explain optic neuritis. My eye hurts - 24/7 - when I wake up it hurts, when I go to bed it hurts, and in between it hurts.  It hurts when I move it and it hurts when I don't. The vision is off. When isolated the colors are markedly different.  It is almost like there is a grey screen over the eye and I get a blurry half glimpse of the true technicolor. But eyes are funny.  They compensate for one another. So when both are working the differences and losses are not as obvious. I think that is true of many things.  We compensate. I do more because I can. And I pray that they day does not come when I can't.

The kicker to make it better is that I have to go on a lot of steroids. Not the easiest. They make it difficult to sleep - a lot of late night tivo watching! They make it easy to cry - a good amount of teary moments. And they make it easy to get annoyed - a fine amount of cut it out you are bugging me moments! But they make it better. So I take the bad with the good.

I missed a fun, crazy reunion with my Kappa sisters this weekend. Thirteen years after graduation, these events are even more special as we not only remember the past but catch up on the present. I will have to wait until next time. I saw my son hit a double in baseball and my daughter run on the soccer field. Those things can't wait until next time.

I received a call this week from a woman whose child goes to my daughter's school.  She asked if she upset me because I was not my "usual friendly" the last time I saw her. If truth be told - I cannot actually remember who she is.  I have to be at events with hundreds of parents and kids as chair of our PSO. Believe it or not, I don't remember everyone.  99% yes. 1% no. She is in the 1% no category. She may not have made an impact in person, but her call certainly did. She was right. I am usually very friendly. I also know that I am very thankful and appreciative and very hands-on. I was taken back. About the same time as her call, the planets aligned and my steroids kicked in. Yes, she made me cry. I cried because I know I was not unfriendly to anyone - even the gal I cannot remember. Maybe she did not know all that I have been going through. Maybe she did not even care to know.

I have run her call in my head over and over. I have decided to walk away from the crazy. Her crazy reminded me that we cannot judge someone without walking in their shoes. We cannot put expectations on other people - A lesson I sometimes have to be reminded of.  And we cannot put expectations on our self.

I am not usually good at walking away. In fact, I don't remember a time that I have walked away. This time I must to be true to myself.

Snack Closet

Maybe our home has been under renovation so long that the not-so-normal is oh-so normal. Michael caught this moment when Michael and Maddie were out on the deck having a popsicle. It is not every house that staging is a place to hang out!

And speaking of moments, I have mentioned that we have had a kitchenette in part of our home while the main kitchen is under construction. Our kitchenette is a small room with our washer and dryer, refrigerator, double sink, cabinets, counters, microwave and a variety of important appliances - a foreman grill, skillet, griddle, and toaster oven.  The appliances that Amercian's can't live without.  I often think, while I am doing the dishes by hand, that this would be a luxury-size space if I had an apartment in NYC.  That is the dream - and I am sticking to it!

So Michael's friend comes over to play last week. It is a rainy day and the two boys are having a mad Mario wii tournament.  They are munching on bag snacks - the ultimate kiddy treat! His adorable friends says to me..."Can I have another bag of Doritos from the snack closet?" I burst out laughing! Seriously, a snack closet! How funny to think that this little guy will go home and say - you will not believe they have a snack closet! All this time I have been thinking this kitchenette would be a hit in NYC - and it took a 9 year old to bring me to reality - I have been feeding my family out of a closet!

Thank god the real kitchen in going to be bigger than the closet! Worth the wait.....

Dear Maddie,

I wrote my daughter a note today. I could have been writing it to myself. Today was her first day of soccer.  For all of the bravado this little gal has - she sometimes has a hard time. Kinda like me. 

It started out this morning.  She was crying and scared to start soccer.  We did not force her to play. In fact, she asked us to play. Many of her friends play. We sat out the Fall session and opted for a Spring start.  The disadvantage is that she is joining an existing team.  We picked up her uniform this morning when Michael was playing.  She came home and excitedly got herself dressed.  I thought it was going to be fine. It started out fine.

She started the practice drills - she got a ball in the face. It went downhill.  Like crazy glue that will not peel off your fingers, Maddie clung to me with tears streaming down her face. 

Her coaches were fantastic. Her brother was so super supportive. Her entourage of fans - my mom, dad, Michael, Michael and I all tried to work magic and calm her down.

It would have been easy to leave. I felt it was not ok to leave. I told Maddie she did not have to play. She did not have to have fun. But she did have to support her team.  As long as she was here - with her red shirt on - she was to support her team. She could stay on the side lines - but she needed to be there for the team.  I told her we would come back each week so she could support her team - and when she was ready...if she was ready..she could join the game. 

It broke my heart.  I could have been telling myself - you do not need to go to the overnight gymnastics camp, you do not need to go to the 4H weekend, you do not need to go to the 8th grade dance with Mark what's his name - but you might, just might, miss out on some fun. I could be telling myself - if you think this is scary get ready because soccer is the least of your worries. So kick now with all of your strength - to show you have it in you for the real challenges.

Try as they might - she did not want to go in the game.  But right towards the end - the coach's daughter Maddie came up to my Maddie. She said "Hi Mini Maddie, it's ok."  This adorable 3rd grade girl made my Maddie smile. The coach allowed his Maddie to take my Maddie on the field. They held hands and ran together and kicked the ball. My daughter - though she could not realize it - had a glimpse of her future Maddie-self being strong.  This 3rd grade Maddie showed me a strength I did not have at that age. I am thankful for her today.  She finished the game and the coaches had her lead the line of handshakes. 

I came home and wrote me gal a note.  I put it on her bed where she would find it. It may seem beyond her years - but she is beyond her years.  She carries a lot in her heart - like me - and I know that it is a lot sometimes.  She read the note all by herself - and she thanked me. Not once, but many times.  I did not do it for thanks - I did it because I know how she feels. I know how scary it is to be brave and fearful all at the same time.


My dear Maddie,


I am proud of you for trying today. Sometimes things are scary - but real courage comes from trying and getting in the game. All my love, Mom xoxo

Happy Easter - almost

Easter Egg Roll - 2010

The minute Maddie sees the Bunny she pops her shades on like she is on the red carpet.

Happy Easter! Big news on the cake front..This Takes the Cake has been taken over by The Cake Spot.  As you know, I am a cake person...we are a cake family. My mom found out about the new cake place when she was driving by.  She decided to order a cake for us as part of our Easter celebration.  She tried to make it a surprise but decided to tell.  She loves surprises - but also thrills in telling the surprise - so it is sometimes a half surprise. Sometimes I am not sure if I am still supposed to act surprised. It is as much fun watching her joy as it is having my own.

My mom went to pick up the cake before Easter.  My phone rang.  She called to tell me about the cake.  I am not sure if she was adhering to Oprah's no phone zone pledge or if the cake was just so shocking to her that she decided to pull over and call.  I am going with the cake was too shocking.

I know.  Cake is cake - right? Not really.  I do not want to trivialize this but cake means different things to different people.  My mom gets flashed back to her New Bedford days. Of her dog Saxie sneaking the surprise cake under the dining room table. Of birthday celebrations, creme horns, and memories of her old whaling home on Pope Street. Of birthday celebrations and family. Of cousins and laughter.

None of those celebrations had kelly green frosting (yes, her words!) and orange and yellow frosting writing a wild version of Happy Easter! None of those cakes had roses in florescent.  None of those cakes looked like a Mexican Pinata.

Tomorrow we will eat the "new" cake.  We might miss our old cake. We might in our hearts, by reminded of other celebrations that we have enjoyed cake together.  And deep inside, we just might feel sad that you can never go back...and we may realize it is much more than cake.

Happy Easter!

Traditions

Flashback - Easter 2008

I love traditions.  I love the feeling of the familiar and the comfort of the known.  Today, I went to the mother of all traditions.  As part of my job I was able to go to the annual Chrism Mass at the Cathederal in Boston. 

My job did not start out as this.  It started as Development Director for a Catholic elementary school - I now work in the parish as well.  I am spread too thin in my life.  I tackle the Capital Campaign and issues that I had no idea about before I started. I joke with myself that I have been thrust into the DiVinci Code.  I laugh because no amount of church going prepares you for the climate and culture of the church. 

But today I was included in the Chrism Mass.  I did not know anything about this Mass.  I did not know the beauty of the Cathederal - that it is one of the largest in the world. I did not know - until our tour after - that there is a cross with pieces from Jesus' actual cross.  The cross.  It is difficult to not get swept up in the power of the tradition - even if it is not your tradition - when you are at this kind of celebration.

I was surrounded by music bouncing off the arches.  Amidst all of the tradition, the Cardinal was timely and relevent in his homily.  He moved me.  I was in the moment - but also far away.  I was swept into my own traditions.  The stuffing we have every Thanksgiving, the Easter Egg Roll we attend every year, the frosting we get on our birthday cakes with roses "all around," the initiation to Kappa as a young college girl.  I was swept away but firmly planted in today.

I thought of the traditions I am sharing with my children.  The laughter of family stories from New Bedford shared with the cousins - told so many times even the kids could tell them now.  The beach days, the blindfolded cousin adventures...I could go on. How the newest generation needs to hold them as close as I do.

As I head into the holiday weekend - I am casting aside all that I am feeling overworked, overworrried, and overthinking.  I am going to be caught up in the tradition...and thankfully that means cake with frosting and lots of laughter!

Only in America

I had a busy day today - and it is still going on.  Today our kitchen is getting plastered - This is a BIG deal. We have not has a full kitchen for 3 years.  We have what I like to refer to as a New York City Kitchen.  That is the romantic name I give my small space with a sink, fridge, toaster over, crockpot, griddle, foreman grill, washer and dryer. There is no oven and no dishwaher. I have the hands to prove it. 

Today I got up early to go to an appointment, get coal for the coal stove, and get a cake.  Since our bakery deserted us (see post in October!) I have to find a new one.  Today I decided to hit BJ's.  Not my smartest moment, since the Superbowl is tomorrow and the crowds needed to get jumbo packages of doritos and salsa and corn dogs.

At BJ's they made an announcememt, "attention BJ shoppers..." at that point I should have stopped listening. "at the end of aisle 15 we are giving away free peelers!!" So my cart takes a immediate detour to aisle 15. I cannot even believe I wanted a free peeler.  I find it even funnier that about 40 people wanted a free peeler. But as anything free goes, there is always a catch. And since I was 1 - tired, 2 - without kids, and 3 - interested -  I decided to join the crowd. 

The suave speaker told us all about the Euro slicer and how it will change your life. I learned how to have  the best french fries, cry-free onions, and perfectly even tomato slices. I totally bought into it.  I wanted slaw  and I wanted to make it with ease.  I found myself thinking of all of the things I could make. I was going to be very impressive.  A regular "Fancy Nancy" in my new kitchen.

Then, I started laughing. I started really laughing. The kind of laugh that got me kicked out of Yoga. I thought of the Euro slicer and the fact I was quite certain that there were no old ladies in villages in Europe waiting for their butcher and their freshly cut meat or their produce from the farm stand ooogling over a Euro slicer.  Only in America would we stand around with our mouths open watching a man in a slick suit peel carrots and slice cucumbers - and then we would grab the package so we can peel our own.  Funny I saw none of those people even have a vegetable in their cart.  Maybe you can slice Twinkies!

In fact, I think the only people ooogling were the dozens of people who grabbed the entire "special offer" "only today" package of Euro Slicer gifts.  I took only the free slicer with a smile.  If I am being honest, I have to say, if Michael was working I would have grabbed the whole package. I don't know if I am sad that I won't have a perfect tomato pie or relieved I walked away knowing that it is not about perfect slices.  I do know I am still laughing!

Words Matter

The past few weeks have been very stressful for me. With Michael out of work, I find myself over worrying about money and how it will all work. The emergency fund I carefully funded - has now been tested. Emergencies have popped up on top of other emergencies. I did not know it was allowed to work that way. My little bubble of safety and all things easy has been hit by a pin. I guess I did not know how easy it was.

This weekend I went to a Valentine's Tea at one of our oldest friends. We have shared mother/daughter teas with this group of women for many, many years. The conversation picks up where it left off and we catch up on our lives. Our hair color has changed, we have had babies, our moms have become grammies, and we (the kids) have become adults.

There is one woman I love to catch up with each tea. Peggy has a neurologial disease. Not MS, but another bunch of letters that mean crappy deal. I don't need to know the initials to know how she feels. I have first-hand knowledge.

Years ago, Peggy and I talked about MS and she asked if I would talk to her friend's daughter who also has MS. I did. I have talked to many men and women with MS. Sharing my journey and hearing theirs. My attitude is positive - not denial positive - just simply positive. But at this tea, Peggy shared with me my words. How she remembered all that I said to her. I was shocked that she could quote me and things I said. I was shocked that I sounded so sure. So sure that it would be ok.  So sure that we are all playing this game of cards and I just know my hand.  So sure that I know. I know how she feels. I know how it feels.

I walked away knowing that I made a difference. Words matter. They may be the "thing" that someone holds on to. It reminded me to choose carefully becuause you never know when you are making a difference.