A blur

It feels like the last few weeks (and the few before that) have been a blur of activity.

And before the next frenzy of Christmas celebrations begins, I want to remember what we've been up to:
Birthday celebrations, big piles of leaves and big smiles -- before we had even had a thought of hospital waiting rooms.

Long drives home at night, after exhausting days, siblings quiet, curled up, sharing their space and their rest.

Boisterous days. Lots of smiles.

Cold nights, warm blankets. Books.

Rare celestial sights that we won't see again for decades.

Appreciation that even my point-and-shoot camera can capture some of the intensity of Venus:

The joy of watching raw ingredients combine...


to create overflowing mounds of potential.


The knowledge that the end product, no matter how tasty, is never as important as the process, the lesson, the time together, the memories made.

December traditions.
The payoff for many after-school music practices.

Precise care taken with every ornament.

Not stepping in, even once, to replace a decoration. Thinking the tree has never looked more beautiful.

As the next blur of gatherings, food, cold and travel come upon us, may we remember not to lose focus on the memories that define us.

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Operation: Lessons Learned

'Tis the season of holiday food drives. Of course the need is year round, but there's something about the bitter cold to remind me that someone else doesn't have a coat, or sleeps outside every night; the huge feasts help me recall that many don't have enough on a regular basis; and the extravagant toy shopping helps me to realize that just one of the gifts under the tree would be a dream come true for many kids.

So this year, we did something a little bit different for one of the local charities, Operation Holiday. While we usually raid the shelves/pantry for the food drives at school, or go searching for old, but good coats in our closets, this year we took a much more direct approach to the giving season. My mom was the catalyst: she had taken the kids shopping last year, to let them pick out food to give to the food pantry. This year, she would be busy helping dad recover from his bypass, but wanted them to have a similar experience. So she gave the kids $20 each, and a few days later the kids and I headed to the grocery store.

Owen grasped the concept easily:

Lauryn was entirely sure she'd rather keep her "dollar" for herself.
(She was hiding it behind her back in this photo.)

Once inside though, it became a game to pick out our favorite meals and snacks. The kids walked through the aisles, carefully deciding what items were too expensive, what would be tasty for kids, what kinds of meals they could make with each purchase. Owen kept a running total, and as we inched closer to the $40, their choices were much more calculated.

The purpose of staying within the $40 wasn't that we couldn't afford more; it was about the kids realizing how far the money could go, how much it cost to feed a family, how much their favorites cost each day.

Here was the total:

$46.83

I had agreed, from the beginning, to pay the tax, for ease of calculating. Tax= $2.78

46.83-2.78 = $44.05

I had agreed they could each pick out a snack for themselves (because it was already 4:45, they were hungry, and I forgot to put the lasagna into the oven before we left, so it was going to be at least an hour, after we returned home, before supper was ready.) They picked out Yogurt Raisins ($1.69) and Muffins ($2.29)

So $44.05-2.29-1.69 = $40.03

They spent exactly $40.03, before tax.

And here's what it bought:

Once we spread it out on the kitchen table, Owen was thoroughly amazed that for the price of one new video game, he could buy all this food. I'll admit I too, was impressed with the purchases. Of course we couldn't buy all the expensive perishables: meat, milk, cheese, butter, bread etc., but still we did get quite a lot for our $40. It has forced me to take a closer look at my own grocery habits.

The kids and I made a list of what we bought. If one family of four were to receive all that we gave, what could they make? Realizing that we couldn't buy the perishables, and expecting that the family would have certain basics at home, here is what we calculated:

4 suppers of spaghetti, sauce, veggie and fruit
4 lunches of mac and cheese with fruit
2 lunches of soup, veggie and fruit
2 tuna casseroles
2 tuna sandwiches
12 breakfasts
5 weeks worth of PB&J for school lunches
3 loafs of bread
1 batch of cookies
2 months + of Rice
2 weeks worth of afternoon snacks.
Enough popcorn for 12 movie nights

Operation Holiday is now $40 richer in food. Another family will have enough to eat this month. And the kids learned a valuable lesson. (I think I did too.) 'Tis the season!

Proud Mama

This post was supposed to begin with the reasons why I was posting the video of Owen's piano recital. Here they are:

Because:
I'm a proud mama;
Dad (who is recovering well, but slowly) couldn't handle a drive, long night, cold, germs and exhaustion;
Mom was needed at home to take care of dad;
I have several more family members who live at a considerable distance;
I like to brag;
Here is Owen's piano recital. He started taking lessons this past spring. We are very proud of him. He loves it. And most of the time doesn't complain about practicing. Most of the time.

(Of course since you don't see a video here, it means I was one-upped by technology again. Help! Other blogger users, explain to me why my videos never post.I think I have figured out that this video was too large, but when I try to post others, I can't make them work either. They are saved in MVI format. (What does that mean!?) and what kind of format do they need to be in?)

Moving on...

So no photos of Owen's recital, because I was rolling on video the whole time. Just trust me. He did very well. He enjoyed it.

Lauryn entertained herself by listening (but not really), coloring every spare inch of the program, and making many funny faces into the camera.

We love our piano teacher -- and we never would have found her, if not for one of Owen's best friends:

The site was a beautiful old treasure of our city that I had never been in before. It was gorgeous, decorated for the holidays. I had images of the grand parties that must have been thrown here 100 years ago.

They had pictures of all of the ladies (yes, all ladies) who have been "in charge" of this social establishment, dating back to the late 1800s. Such history. (Such hairstyles.)

Afterwards, a much more modern tradition: ice cream cones and a drive around downtown to see the extravagant light displays with the grandparents.

It was a fun night!

(Minus the video we'll just have to offer a personal recital for all of our readers. Next time you're in our neighborhood, stop by and ask!)

My last 2 weeks

It is a beautiful and cold Wednesday morning. I got 7 and a half hours of sleep (at night) last night. I woke to a husband already awake and getting the house ready for the day. I fed Owen french toast, bananas and hot chocolate before school. I've done the dishes, started a load of wash, and taken a hot bath with a hot cup of tea. Lauryn slept in.

The calm of this morning is almost surreal compared to the whirlwind of the past 2 weeks. It is welcome. It is time. It is needed.

Two weeks ago today, my dad found out he would need a double bypass. Let me just skip to the end, before I go any further. He's okay. The surgery went well and he's now resting and recuperating at home. But two weeks ago today we had no idea what we were about to go through.

I think open-heart surgery is a little like a house fire. In my newsroom, we only cover house fires if they're big -- if the video is good and there's smoke and flames. We don't cover the "little fires" because there's not much to say about them. "Everyone got out alright, damage is estimated at __ dollars, the cause is under investigation." But for the family who just lost their family pictures, their grandmother's wedding dress, their children's favorite stuffed animal -- that "little house fire" was huge. They lost nearly everything. And we in the news don't blink an eye at it.

Its the same with a major surgery. I know that more than 500,000 bypass surgeries are performed in the U.S, each year. (I looked it up.) I know that they are well-tested and safe. I know that when most people hear "double bypass" they say: "oh. wow. well, I hope he's okay, I'm sure he is." But for the family going through it, it is somewhat more emotional.

It was about 2 months ago that dad had a check-up. Mom had insisted. And due to her semi-retirement, she was able to go with him to the appointment. Most everything checked out well, but mom insisted "He's so tired. He's just so tired all the time." It would have been easy for the doctors, or our family, to push that aside: "Of course he's tired, he works very hard, he travels all the time, he is getting older, you know." But the doc didn't do any of that. He instead sent my dad for a stress test and an EKG. After that, a trip to the cardiologist was scheduled. He said we'd have to do a heart catheter. 2 weeks ago, my sister took a day off work, drove down, and we sat in the waiting room with mom while dad did the procedure. We had anticipated a stint, but not what they told us: double bypass. They admitted dad to the hospital and scheduled the surgery in 2 days. My other sister flew in from the other side of the country. I won't give you the entire details of dad's 10 day stay in the hospital. It was all routine for the doctors and nurses, but to us every set-back was frightening, every step forward, a milestone. The nurses were amazing. The staff was great. Even the woman at the lunchroom counter had that calm even tone that meant: "everything's going to be alright" when she said "your change is $2.31."

We spent my dad's 64th birthday in the hospital.

We celebrated Thanksgiving with cafeteria turkey and mashed potatoes in his room. (And it was really good, by the way.)

Brad, and my in laws were great about making sure the kids were taken care of, since they couldn't be at the hospital for much of the time.

Now, dad's home, slowly recovering, but doing well. And, according to all of the other people who have come forward to tell about their bypasses -- he's going to feel like a new man in a few months. And now, it's all really starting to sink in. One of our family members, a retired nursing instructor, made it all real when she found out where the blockage had been. She pointed to the diagram of the heart: "when the blockage is here, we call them 'widow makers.' The blockage was at an even more severe place than that." My dad had been a heart attack waiting to happen. And we didn't know it. I won't get into the "what-ifs" -- I'm not even ready to think about those. But I know those doctors and nurses saved my dad's life. Literally. Mom's insistence. Dad's willingness to go to the doctor. The family doc's willingness to listen. The expertise of so many people to know what needed to happen next. And yes, some divine intervention. Without just one of those actions, who knows what I would be typing right now.

I could go on and on with emotions, memories and tears. But I won't. If nothing else, please just take this post as a reminder to be vigilant about your health. Dad was very healthy... appeared to be very healthy. We could have all missed the signs. Now, as I sit here -- a relatively young woman with high cholesterol and 15 pounds to lose, I'm taking a closer look at my own health. Please consider doing the same.

I love you dad.

one-upped by technology

After what seems like a long time without a post, without a personal post, without pictures of my beautiful children and their wonderful experiences, and when I finally feel like posting parts of life i don't want to forget, technology comes in and gives me a swift kick in the butt.

I've always put my pictures on my computer by taking out the memory card, and putting it in the slot on the computer. Today, when i do that, nothing happens. Happened yesterday too. I know that i should have installed the junk that came with my computer, and plugged in the cord long ago... but I didn't. And now the cord seems to be the one thing that is missing out of my computer box (the receipt, the software, the instruction manuals are all there, but that cord...)

Sigh.

I would ask my more-technologically-minded-than-me husband to help, but he's in in bed with a 102 fever this morning, complaining of a sore throat. Another sigh. Is it possible he got Owen's strep throat from 2 weeks ago? My children are playing so quietly, so intently, so thoughtfully in Owen's room. I hear little hands pawing through a Lego box, looking for the perfect piece, and a little voice asking big brother for help. It is the perfect time for me to steal a moment of computer time... a third sigh.

In the absence of pictures, a quick rundown:

*we have finished another season of soccer -- it was great. And cold. I'm thankful to have my Saturday mornings back.
*we have been learning with leaps and bounds lately -- it has once again hit me that my little ones are growing up faster than I had noticed.
*i have been slowly weaning myself from my political addiction. I must remind myself every time I turn on the cable news shows... he got elected, we're going to be okay, Fox news can't hurt us now...
*now that the elections are over, personnel has been changed, and the newness of other modifications are wearing off, work is evening out, and once again becoming routine and comfortable.
*Lauryn and I have been spending many hours at the YMCA. I enjoy the exercise while listening to NPR, she loves an hour to play with new friends, color in a new coloring book and climb through their really cool indoor jungle gym.
*I am incredibly anxious for the holidays. I will actually be afforded some time off work, and get to see most of my family in that time. Soon, I will bake an obscene amount of cinnamon rolls, and begin getting out the Christmas decorations. Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year.

More later. Eventually. I'm sure I'll figure out this picture problem. E V E N T U A L L Y.

349

I have much more to say about this election.

But while I work off the headache/political hangover from my 13-hour night at work, I must at least say this:

349

At least.

The numbers may sway a bit, but this is no close race.

This is history on so many levels. I'm exhausted, relieved and enthused.

Is it too early to start chanting "four more years!" ??

Your chance

You all know who I support in the election. This isn't another campaign blog. Instead this is just a reminder: a reminder of what today is.

Consider a few facts (and I hope I have them all correct, I know a history teacher is reading this):
~88 Years ago, women did NOT have the right to vote.
~Although African American men have had the right to vote since 1870, as recent as 1964, those trying to register black voters were intimidated and kept away from the polls. Many never attempted it before 1964.
~Even today, there are a lot of Americans who cannot legally vote because of a felony conviction, even for something as small as a minor drug possession conviction.
~In the last Presidential election (2004) 55% of eligible voters cast a vote.
~In the last Mid-term election (2006) 41% of eligible voters cast a vote.

And consider this (you may have heard it before): My grandmothers were not born with the right to vote. When my parents began voting, segregation was still alive and well in this country. And now, I have the opportunity to vote for a ticket with an African American man or a woman in the top 2 spots. Someday that won't be a big deal. But today it is. I know one day, my grandkids will look up at me with confused faces and say "What do you mean we never had a woman/black/Latino/gay/Asian/Muslim/Jewish etc. president? That's just weird." Yes, one day it will be. I hope and I pray. But today it is not. Today is a historic election. Don't tell your future (or current) grandkids you didn't take part. Go out. Be there. Vote.

Not sure where to vote? Go to this link, click on your state, and it will take you to your local election office that will have everything you need to know.

(And if I'm preaching to the choir here, pass on the facts above to someone, anyone, who might need a little bit of motivation to brave the lines today.)

Yea Democracy! Let's not waste it.

I voted

I'm done. I did it. I voted. (A week ago).
We had a beautiful October day that felt like late August. We had the setting of a serene park

for an exhilarating rally.

Owen received many compliments on his sign (that he made for the caucus on Super Tuesday.)

We got to meet the Governor.

Lauryn loved the music and the excitement of the rally.


Afterwards we took a break to play at the park.

Then to the courthouse, to cast our ballots.

I'm done. I did it. I cast my ballot. For the president, the senator, the congressman, the local school bond issue, the D.A. and the Sheriff -- they're all important.

I've gushed about Obama before. I've ranted about the opposition. I'm not going to today. I just feel grateful for the right to vote for the person I believe in; the person who can turn our country around.
And I'm struck at how far we've come. I read an exhilarating blog about the huge rally in KC. I'm sure it was amazing. Now that I think about it, our family was really lucky to get to see Obama in such a small setting - a gym filled with about 3,000 people. We sat about 10 rows from the front. Wow. What an experience. That was back in January -- when Obama was still a long shot for the democratic nomination.

In February, we caucused with the kids in a snowstorm, waiting 90 minutes to vote in a huge line that snaked around several tight hallways. Back then, I watched the results and wondered -- could this really be happening? Could he really be pulling ahead?

And now. Here we are. One day to go. One day until the results come in. One day before we know the direction our country will be going.
One day.

I wrote a blog, back on January 18, 2007, the day Obama announced his candidacy. That was nearly two years ago, and everything, EVERYTHING, I wrote about that man I believe even more vehemently now. I promised then, that I would eat my words if Obama turned out to be another sleazy politician. Yes, he could still turn out to be one. No, I'm not hanging the entire future of the universe on this one man. But I still believe in him and I still believe in what we can accomplish together:

"I write today with the promise of a new hope, a new way, a new beginning for our country. Normally, I am a very realistic, if not cynical, person, when it comes to my perspective on the outside world. I don't trust very easily, I tend to see things with an air of negativity. War, politics, poverty, global warming, injustice, genocide -- they are realities of life ...

But today, I have to put my negativity aside, to just believe, trust and hope that a new beginning has begun... Its not just about the way the man talks (but he can provoke emotion with his words) its not just about the words he says (but damn, its nice to hear the words) its not just the way he handles himself or how he answers questions (Q: "did you inhale? A: "Wasn't that the point?") or the legislation he gets behind. He just has a new way of being, a new way of leading, a new charisma that our country has not seen in years. Maybe all those things are the quintessential politician. Maybe I am just naive. But I see in Barack Obama something new, something genuine, something worth getting excited for.

What Barack has, is a charisma that the country needs to get behind. Not everyone can be a leader. While it takes many, many people to make change in the country, many who are faceless, nameless, and small, it also takes a leader who has what it takes to rally the troops. Imagine the civil rights movement without Martin Luther King Jr. -- while it took many, many others to bring real change, MLK, was a name, a picture, a face that inspired hope, that brought emotion and truth. The country needed him. And once again I think the country needs a new face, a new leader, a new hope. "

I said I wouldn't gush. This was really meant to be a photo-driven blog. I guess its just hard for me to contain myself. If nothing, I know I won't be alone tomorrow night, watching the returns come in. (Actually, I'll be far from alone, I'll be in a crowded newsroom, yelling results across the room and taking frantic phone calls.) In a larger sense, though, I'll be together with a global community of people who want to see change. I'm praying for the outcome. And whether you want to pray, or go door-to-door, or help get someone to the polls tomorrow -- do whatever you gotta do to make this happen. VOTE. We don't get a second chance at this one.

Still here...

Still here...
enjoying a rare day of nearly nothing. Early morning soccer game preceded a day/night at the farm for the kids -- (the first one since... this summer(?) I can't even remember. ) and a quiet day for me. They were thoroughly looking forward to the open space, the mini-motorcycle, the trampoline, the openness and freeness that comes with a midwestern farmstead, and the special kind of love that only grandparents can offer. (They are so lucky to have 2 sets of grandparents -- that love and cherish them so tremendously -- within an hour's drive of home. )

Still here...
enjoying vampires. Maybe because I am one. As I approach 3 years working the night shift, I am finding that I may in fact be turning into one of those that is resistant to natural sunlight. (Coca-cola seems to be replacing the need for human blood, so I may have hope, yet.) I have been unable to conform my weekends to a natural schedule, of late. I slept most of today away (after the soccer game) and can now expect to be folding laundry well into the morning hours. I'll probably be watching a vampire or zombie movie too. Why am I so enthralled with those these days? I never used to like scary movies.

Still here...
dealing with a husband's hand in a cast. It was a "minor" surgical procedure -- but nothing that requires anesthesia, a cast and pain meds is really that "minor" to me. I am reminded to be thankful for my husband's regular help around the house -- I realize all that he does, when he can't anymore, due to a cast and a weight-limit on what he can carry.

Still here...
waiting impatiently for November 4th, yet scared to death of the news I will be covering that night.

Still here...
trying to get the gumption to go back to the YMCA. I really feel so much better after a workout, a swim with the kids, a dip in the hot tub. Why haven't I been going lately? Next week. For sure. (Someone, hold me to it.)

Still here.
Keeping busy.
Living life.
And that's enough.

Focus

First off, thanks for the kind words, the calls, the comments, the suggestions. Its nice to know that you can count on your family and friends when you need them most.

In the midst of stress at work, meetings at school, frustrations with life in general, I have been trying to focus on what's important; both the little details and the big.

Essential: catching up on laundry -- it is satisfying to see my piles of folded laundry grow.

Necessary: I've been working on recognizing when a home cooked meal is just the right thing for everyone: Chicken Elaine; homemade mashed potatoes; veggies and salad. It hit the spot. (The night before, Brad didn't even wait to see the exhausted look on my face. He said "Honey, I ordered a pizza, it will be ready to pick up when you're coming home from Owen's soccer practice." That night pizza hit the spot.)
{Note: I love to cook, and generally do most things from scratch... but there are those nights, or weeks... when it just isn't going to happen.}

Needed: Brad and I have focused on getting the kids to bed on time, so we can have a bit of the evening to ourselves, (when he doesn't have to work) before I head to work. Why is it that zombie movies, cuddled with my husband are comforting to me?

Perspective: I have had to remind myself lately, how lucky I am. I really am. And this week a sobering news story has put that all into perspective. This week a suspected drunk driver, speeding through a residential street, right next to a school, ran over a mother (around my age) and her 4 year old daughter (a year older than Lauryn) on their way to preschool (at the same time we take Lauryn to preschool every day.) They were both killed. They had just gotten out of their car (the same make/model as our car) and were walking across the street to the school, when the suspected drunk driver, allegedly trying to crash and hurt his passenger, sped up as they reached the intersection. The little girl's sister was in 4th grade at that school. (Owen is a 4th grader this year.) The students heard the crash and the sirens.

My mom called me that night -- saying she knew it wasn't us that was hurt, it was outside the wrong school, but she just wanted to let us know she was thinking about us. And all I can think about, is what that 4th grader now has to go through. All I can think about, is how devastated Owen would be to lose his little sister. She thinks the world of him. She follows him around everywhere. She thinks every little tiny thing he does is the coolest thing in the world. Every night she sings him one of her new made-up songs as he crawls into bed. He smiles with that genuine smile that makes me know, he thinks its pretty damn special to have a little sister.

So my frustrations at work, the meetings, the long hours, the endless pile of laundry, the soccer games, the dirty dishes and the mums in the front garden that *finally got planted after sitting on the porch for 2 weeks -- they're all worth celebrating. They're all worth joy. They're all worth the sweat and the tears and the collapsing-into-bed-tiredness that I've felt every day this week.

I can't imagine life without a single moment of it. I hope I never have to.

Preoccupied

I've been preoccupied lately. So much so, that I've lost track of what I'm supposed to be doing.

Lately, work has been habitating the parts of my mind that should be focused on family and pleasure. Changes are coming, and although I've been a part of most of the "change discussions," I still meet them with apprehension. Have I bit off more than I can chew? Will I be able to take charge and do the things that are required of me, and stand up when I don't think the changes are worth it? The biggest question is yet to come: Have I been offered a new position? Will I take it? Will it be worth it? Will the extra money, career movement, responsibility be worth the the extra time, the stress and not least of all, the time away from my family? Is this even still the profession I want to be in? Didn't I say, 7+ years ago, that this would be a temporary job?

It is frustrating that these questions have been taking up the time and space of my life that I value most. Why am I sitting inside, typing my frustrations, on a beautiful day when my energies should be focused on the park, or the weeds in the garden, or the kids in the sandbox? Why, (when we have had 2 weeks straight of temperatures in the 70s and 80s, with barely a cloud in the sky) did I forget to pick up a new tube for my bike tire in the roughly 10 times I've been near a store? When did I allow my kids to eat spaghetti in their newest, whitest shirts? Why, oh why, when caffeine is such an important part of my life, did I forget to buy coffee filters for a week? Why do I keep forgetting that the sun goes down earlier in the fall, and go outside to enjoy an evening with my kids only to realize there's 20 minutes of sunshine left in the day? Why did I ignore the laundry for so long? (There is now so much that i can do loads entirely by color, 1 pink load, 1 red load, 2 green loads, 3 white loads, 1 light blue load, 1 dark blue load, 1 black load, towels, sheets...)

Are we heading into a financial depression? Will my money ever be worth what it is now? Will our house be worth anything, when its time to sell? Will Barack win? Will Palin make the fool out of herself I know she should this week in the debate? Have we already seen our October Surprise, or is it still coming? Will the money we just spent on fixes to one of our vehicles be worth it, or did we just spend our cash on a lost cause? Do I remember how to make biscuits and gravy? (Owen asked for it, for supper tonight.) What should I get my father-in-law for Christmas? (Yes, I realize it's not even October... this is what my mind is doing to me these days.)

I'm even too preoccupied to decide how to handle the preoccupation. Should I shut down, sit on the couch, eat a ho-ho and watch TV? Or should I keep constantly moving, with the intention of never having a free moment to think about my questions?

My mind is moving in so many directions right now, that when i try to speak, they all come out in a jumbled mess. "Laundry to vote for debating the OTS for the new segment in the field trip money due groceries away broke my purse strap and who was that I just heard complaining about supper?" My husband has sensed my frustration. Which is why this afternoon he helped the kids catch and "feed" a butterfly, a moth, a fly (they decided against the bees); why he's started the laundry, and went to the store to get coffee filters (and then i bought more because I forgot that he already did.... we should be set for the next 3 years.) Its why he's trying to convince me to leave the rest of the mess in the laundry room, and go take a nap.

I may go take his advice.

Palin: a must read

Please consider reading this fact-check of many of the statements made in the last few nights of the Republican National Convention here.

Also consider that this is a fact check by the Associated Press -- not a crazy liberal blog.

Sometimes comedy says it best

Or if the video won't play... check it out here:
http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/palin-hillary-open/656281/

On Friendship

(Note: I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why this is publishing in HUGE type. Sorry. My apologies.)

Friendships have been on my mind lately. This is largely due to the visit we had this week, from friends we have not seen in ten years (minus one short visit about 8 years ago that didn’t last longer than 20 minutes.)

This is them, then and now:

A couple of years back, Anna found us online, with the help of My Space. I will admit, that I was a bit apprehensive, at first, to reacquaint myself with someone who I hadn’t talked to in years. So much had changed in my life since then: family, career, location, outlook. Would we have anything in common? Would we still be friends, now that our responsibility-free, adventurous, not-a-care-in-the-world, college lifestyle was behind us? Was this a friendship I wanted to pursue?

The short answer, would be yes. We now both have families. We have careers. We have husbands (who were friends too, 10 years ago). We have house payments, and junk to clean out of our carports, and have wiped puke/pee/poop off of ourselves probably more times than we wish to count. We make supper. We do the dishes. We worry about the future for our country, our children, ourselves. Our blood boils at the mention of Sarah Palin. We now eat steak. We have many things in common.

But the truth is, we really didn’t have to have all of that in common, to be friends. We have differences too. Different lives, different outlooks, different tastes, different zip codes. None of it really matters, because we’re friends. Whatever apprehension I had to opening up a past chapter in my life was unnecessary, because I wasn’t opening a past chapter -- I was starting to write a new one.

We’ve now spent more of our lives, being friends over the Internet, than we ever had in person. The few short months that she lived down the dorm hall from me have long-since past. Now 12 hours separates us on a daily basis. But, if you ask me, we’re better friends than ever. We’re closer than ever.

And in many ways, our friendship is better, because we now have more of ourselves to share with each other; we can now share our families. I had forgotten how much fun it was to talk to Roy. I had forgotten that before he became Anna’s husband, he was my friend, and my would-be husband’s friend too. And now my children are developing a friendship with them too. From dancing in the living room with Lauryn, to working on homework with Owen, my kids fell in love with these new friends. Of course little Sophie was entertainment for all – adults and children alike. I can barely wait for the day when these kids can all meet again, when their friendships will continue to grow.

This week, I started to think of all the excuses I’ve made for why so many of my friendships have failed, why I have fallen out of touch, why I have not kept in touch with so many of the people I have known in past lives. They’re all valid excuses. I moved 1000 miles away. They moved across an ocean. I don’t have their phone number. We had a fight. We disagree on politics and religion. We’re busy. Maybe they’re not all so valid. Why is it, that one of the closest friends I have ever had, lives only a few miles away… and it has been 6 months since I have seen her?

So, if anything, my visit with these friends has been a reminder, a wake-up call. Don’t let friendships fall apart. Don’t let people fade away. Don’t let miles, or differences, or ages get in the way of friendships.

Today my mother told me that next month, an old friend will be at an event I am attending. She is probably my oldest friend. We have pictures of us together in diapers. Our friendship parted in elementary school when I moved away. Although we attended college together, we did not rekindle our friendship there. We spoke from time to time, we exchanged nods, and waves and glances. I don’t really imagine that we will restart a friendship in a few weeks, when we will see each other again. But if nothing else, I go into the meeting with a new perspective, a new outlook, a new willingness to accept the friendship as what it is, and welcome wherever it goes… even if that is only 15 minutes of conversation over a zweiback or cup of coffee.

As I look back on the short time we had together with Anna and Roy, I am horrified that I did not take more pictures while they were here. Bad Rachel. The time we had was so short, and so jam-packed, I feel like we never even had a chance to finish a single conversation… we went from talking about tattoos, to tearing spinach, to changing a dirty diaper, to trying to find the factors of 136, to dancing to Thriller … and then they were gone. Had we had a month straight, I still think the time would have been too short. I guess we’ll just have to start planning a trip to Kentucky.

Thanks for taking the time to visit, guys. Really. We won't let it be ten more years... see you again soon.

Just a really nice morning

The Tuesday after Labor Day, there was no school for the kids. (Inservice days, already?!)
So I got the kids up early (at least earlier than they would have, if left to their own devices)
and we went out:
Donuts with whatever they wanted to drink (juice and strawberry milk)...
New treasures (a toy, 2 new books, and a wall hanging I remember from my own childhood-- "mom, doesn't grandma have one of those at her house!?") at goodwill...
And the park.
It was nice. Just a really good morning.

Journalistic Integrity

As I sit here, on a Tuesday morning, Hurricane Gustav has come and gone. It has left some damage. It has killed several people (in the U.S. at least -- the death toll was much higher in the Caribbean). It has likely left millions, if not billions, of dollars in losses. It was, by no means, a weak storm. It was serious. And the tragedy that could have occurred in New Orleans, or other parts of Louisiana, was likely halted, by so many residents -- all 2 million of them -- being willing to get out of the coast, and head inland. This appears -- so far, in most, if not all aspects -- to be a successful handling of the storm.

Of course this was not the case three years ago. We all know about Katrina, we all know about the devastation, the death, the lack of governmental response, the needlessness of so much of that tragedy. I am not bringing it up to point fingers, to blame, to pour salt in old wounds. I only bring it up to cleanse my own memories of that storm.

As most of you know, I work in T.V. news. I've covered some pretty horrific news items in my 7 years at the station. 9/11. BTK. Murders. Baby deaths. The list, I am afraid, is much longer than that -- I don't think I need to keep going for you to get the point. That week that Katrina hit (and yes, I do mean an entire week) was one of the hardest 5 days I can remember at work. I remember talking with an anchor that Monday night -- "it looks like New Orleans really got spared... this isn't as big of a deal as we all made it out to be." The next morning, the levees failed. Our newsroom sat glued to the cable networks, the news networks, the raw feeds from countless news sources coming in all day long of the images you all remember as well as I. The rooftop rescues, the over topped levees. Then the next day: the Superdome. The chants, the screams, the cries, the dead bodies covered sheets, or the elderly, left to die on a wheelchair. The days unfolded. I won't continue -- you saw it all too. Even if you only tuned in for a half hour newscast, you saw the same tragedy unfolding in New Orleans, that I watched for ten hours straight, each day for a week.

I was angry. I was horrified. I was confused. I was saddened. We all were. Brian Williams perhaps summed it up best when he admitted, on the air one night, in the 3rd or 4th night of live coverage from New Orleans, that he had been talking to one of his producers, when he made the statement "... when we get back to the states..." He had to stop and remember -- he was in the states. A man who has covered wars, and international tragedies, and gone to third world countries, was now covering a tragedy and response so horrifically botched that he forgot he was still in the United States.

Ever since Katrina hit, there is one image in my mind, that sticks out more than any other. One little boy (about the same age as Lauryn at the time) being held by his crying mother. She is holding a baby bottle and says he is getting dehydrated. The little boy is not waking up. She is obviously distraught. This mother believes her child is on the brink of death. Every time I hear a Katrina story -- I think of that little boy. Did he survive?

Friday, I got my answer:



If you don't have the time to watch the video (which is very much worth a watch) I'll spoil the ending. He's okay. He and his mother relocated to North Carolina, where he now has long, blond curly hair and a thirst for water. When I saw the above news piece, I was relieved. I was encouraged. I was thankful.

I will admit, that when you are bombarded every day with the amount of news that I am, you have to distance yourself. You have to set apart. You have to take a step back, and not get personally attached to every story. I doubt I could go to work every night, if I found myself empathizing for every victim in every story. Still, there are those nights when I find myself wiping away tears after reading the latest wire copy -- a tragedy, a death, a horrible accident. And in a way, I think that humanness makes me a better producer -- being able to tell a story with the gravity it deserves, or being able to decide when not to tell a story when its only purpose is to horrify my viewers with another "shocker."

My business has all sorts of problems. I could go off on journalistic integrity, censorship, story importance/placement. Believe me, I know we're not perfect. But when I see the story that Nightly News did, I truly believe that there are other people sitting at home, breathing a sigh of relief -- mothers with children the same age as that little boy, whose minds and hearts were quieted, after finding out that he was okay. And on a night like that, I can be proud of my industry, my business, for telling us the news that our hearts needed to know.



(Just for the record -- you can ask me my opinion of my industry the next time you see the water-skiing squirrel clip. I will likely have a different answer. )

Okay, so I lied...

I know I said I was going to start getting the kids to bed on time, now that the Olympics are over and school is in full swing. But c'mon... now its the Democratic National Convention! I grew up in a family that was conscious of the history going on in the present. I remember watching moments on TV that would become historical moments now the being taught in my children's school books. Because. They. Were. Important. I grew up being aware, in whatever way a child can, of what was going on in the world.

That is one of the gifts I can give to my children. I am proud of the fact that my 4 year old has been able to pick out Barack Obama and John McCain and Hillary Clinton on the cover of a magazine for months now. I am proud that when my 9 year old's class was asked, last spring, who was running for president, he was able to name at least 5 names, democrat and republican. The morning after a big primary election he would ask, on the drive to school: "So how did they do last night mom? Who came out on top, Hillary or Barack?" When a certain Senator from Illinois came to a town not far from my own, on a blustery January day, we took our kids out of school to see him. And on another cold and snowy night in February, we bundled them up, with our home-made posters in hands, and caucused for the person we believe in. (Click on the underlined words to see my previous posts.)

So when this woman took the stage last night, in front of a national T.V. audience, to introduce America to her husband, yes, I let my kids stay up and watch it. How could I not?

Here's the final part of her speech: (My apologies for the cable news commentary at the end, I really was just looking for the last 2 minutes of her speech, that were truly electrifying.)



In the end, I think a few bleary eyes before school some mornings are worth it, to be able to give my kids an understanding of where they are in this world, and how they are impacted by so many events going on in this country.

And who knows, I may be grooming my own political dynasty. I'd be okay with an "Owen in 2040" or a "Lauryn in 2048" ticket!

What we've been up to lately

Owen has begun his 4th grade year of school. So far, "back to school" has been a good thing. He is in a 4th/5th grade combo class. (This is a compliment to his maturity and academics... we're so proud!) But this originally brought forth a bit of apprehension, not knowing all of his classmates, will the work be too hard, etc. But as you can see by his photo before the 3rd day of school, (of course I forgot to take the traditional photo on the first day of class) the apprehension is all gone!

We have done a bit of celebrating to start off the school year. Like using the "free ice cream cone" certificates the kids earned for their summer reading...

...going out to eat... and seeing a family movie.


I've taken advantage of my mother's summer bounty of tomatoes (I didn't plant a single plant this year. I fully regret this.) and made her curry. I can't say it tasted as good as hers, and I didn't use enough "elbow grease" to get my chapatis thin enough... but it all still tasted good enough for me to eat curry for 5 days straight. Now I have a mouth sore from all the acid and spice. It was totally worth it! (How does it look, mom?)

Despite me making separate meals for the kids, they have latched on to my childhood memory of curry suppers -- rice, ketchup and chapatis. Don't laugh. I still think it tastes good.

We've attempted to get to bed on time, so we're not tired for school. It hasn't worked very well. If we haven't been staying up to watch the Olympics, we've been begging for one more book, one more chapter, one more game, one more... something. It has been hardest on Lauryn. She doesn't start Pre-Kindergarten until Monday, and doesn't see any good reason why she should go to bed when Owen does... she doesn't have to get up early.

My attempt at moving bedtime along one night completely backfired. "Let's get all your baby dolls tucked in for the night, then you can go to sleep too." Of course every doll needed new pajamas, a bed, blankets, pillows, and of course a book. "Okay, Lauryn, I'll read your babies one book before bed." "No, mommy, there are 8 of them, they each need a book." Sigh. 8 books, 8 pajamas, 8 beds, and about 55 minutes later... they were all in bed, and so was Lauryn. (She was only feigning sleep in the below picture... she too required at least 4 books before she was ready to sleep.)

Now that we're settling into new schedules, new lists, new plans, I felt the need to organize with a chore/activity list for the kids that they can check off everyday. I'm hoping it will create fewer arguments. But I'm not holding my breath.

Do you think printing it on yellow paper will make the chores somehow seem more bright and cheery, and less dreaded? Here's hoping for that one...