Momma Dina's Positive Side of faith, family and sports!

2014-05-06T10:37:00.000-04:00

Coming Out. No, it's not what you think.

First and foremost, no - I am not gay (to quote the Seinfeld episode "not that it's a bad thing!") I am coming out to say that it is one year ago, today May 6, that my divorce was finalized. Now I know most of you would say, "Why say anything at all?" Well, the purpose behind this blog is not to give the details of my divorce but rather to offer up hope to those who possibly have gone through this or are going through it now.

This picture was taken one year ago today. I had put on a brave front and off I went to the court house with a dear friend to hold my hand. I originally thought I would go by myself but was relieved to have someone just be there for me. After the proceedings were over (quite quickly I might add) I truly believed I would have looked different or would have been a mess. Neither came true. But what I kept to myself was that I felt alone and scared. Not a great feeling when you are trying to help others be strong and fearless.

To quote Reverend Clara Moore Woodson (grandmother of Chazz Woodson:)

"My prayer for you is that you have enough disappointment to build you up. But not enough to tear you down."

When I read this, my first thought would be, "Why would anyone want to pray for disappointments? Who would want to feel pain and despair?" But now, one year later - I get it. I had a wonderful friend who said it was going to be one year later that I would start to feel better, that every day would be a step closer to healing. I can tell you now, I wanted to punch her lights out. Beat her to a pulp. Hello? A year? Yep - it really was a year. A year of firsts. Like when you lose someone close to you and the first holiday comes up without them. It is always the day before that seems worse as you begin to think, "What am I going to do without that loved one here to celebrate the holidays?" It is the same feeling.

But it does come with a price. I will not mention any one's name but I have had quite a few comments and advice that I wish were not given. Please understand, I truly believe NO ONE wants to go through divorce. Please do not say "I could NEVER, EVER go through a divorce after sooooo many years of being married!" "Why, what happened?" "Was he cheating?" "I thought you two were the perfect couple!!" "Is that why you lost the weight?" I can tell you very plainly, and to the point, either you grow old together or you don't. That's it. I am truly blessed to have wonderful, supportive, non-judgemental friends and family that have been there for me to either listen to me go on and on or let me just be with them. Instead of grilling the person going through this - how 'bout just asking them, "Are you ok" or "Do you need anything?" Anything meaning a hug, coffee or even better, a mango martini.

Ok - off my soap box. This blog was to meant to be a ray of hope to anyone going through this. I sometimes (ok, often) will smile to myself to where I was a year ago and where I am today. I made me a priority. That's right, me. That is one thing I wish I did a long time ago. Not to be mistaken for neglecting my family, I believe I did not do that, but I made time for me. Doing that now, it has been life changing.

This picture below was taken last night at my daughter's Senior Salute from high school. Funny that I had the same shirt on last year. My heart was so filled with joy, pride and hope for not only myself but for her and for all my kids. (They will always be kids to me!) I am beyond blessed to have their love and support and no one makes me laugh more than all of them. Wonder where they get their sense of humor?? Hhmmmm....

Ton o'blessings until next time.

Journey. Not the band.

2013-07-21T08:16:00.000-04:00

What started out as an innocent picture began my journey.

My friend Marilyn came down to South Florida and wanted to meet me. She is one of my wonderful friends that I have been blessed to “meet” on Twitter. I actually thought I looked good and didn’t hesitate going down to meet her for a drink. The shirt I am wearing was so tight that it was cutting off the circulation in my arms. The Capri pants I am wearing was the stretchy kind of “jeans” (like in Nacho Libre.) It was hot out that day (or it could be the 54 additional pounds I was carrying) but all in all, I thought I didn't look half bad. Then came this picture. Marilyn showed me on her phone after it was taken and I went into serious denial. "Oh, it can’t be that bad, it must be the shadows, I’m turning a little - isn't that supposed to make me look thinner?" And then she tweeted it to the Twitter world. Please don’t get me wrong. I am in no way angry at her as I thought it was a “lovely” picture until I got home and went on twitter and saw the “actual size.” Oh......... my........ gosh……………

I think the first thing I did was cry. Everything I tried to justify went out the window. I knew I had “hit bottom.” The next day, I bought a pair of running shoes. Whatta joke. Me running? The only running I did was to the bathroom during commercial breaks while watching football on my couch. But off I went, around the block. Praying to the baby Jesus that if He was going to take me, He’d better do it now. My ankles, knees, feet, arms, shoulders, ear lobes were hurting. I thought - fughetaboutit - I ain’t doing this anymore. Hurts too much. Then I looked at this picture again. So the next day - went a little bit farther. I pretty much was shuffling at that point. Not pretty. No really - not pretty. My biggest problem was that I was making deals with myself like - if I “run” I’ll be able to eat that (whole) pizza because I exercised that day. Stuff like that. Let’s see, did that work? Um……..no.

Then came my friend Jo who doesn't have a mean bone in her body says as sweetly as possible - “um…. you want to try Weight Watchers with me - you know, not that you need it or anything (obviously she had her big ole blinders on) and we can do this together!” She was so excited to do it - how the heck was I going to say no. I, of course, thought she didn't have to lose anything but she wasn't comfortable in her skin and I sure as hell wasn't in mine. So I agreed.

Geez - looking back on this picture - again - I didn't think I looked so bad. (Nice 3 chins I have…..)

We walked into the building and waited on line to get weighed in. Now for all you doubters - it really is a covered area where NO ONE but you and the WW leader can see your weight. Now, I had “weighed” myself on my wonderful scale at home. No big deal - it can’t be that bad….. So this woman asks me (with a smile) to get on the scale. I put my right foot on and you’d think I put my foot on hot coals as I took it off just as quick. I looked at her and asked - “can’t I just tell you what my scale said at home?” She said ……."no." Ok - here we go. As the numbers were sky rocketing upwards - my head started to spin. I’m an honest person but even to this day - I can’t tell you that number. It made me instantly start to cry. This woman didn't hesitate to say - “don’t cry - that’s why you’re here!” Of course I said “yeah, yeah yeah.” I sat down next to Jo and we looked shell shocked. Jo looked like she felt so bad inviting me but quickly said (and to this day - I have never appreciated those words more) “look at that number - you’ll never be that again.” As I type this - tears are in my eyes, as truer words never spoken.

As time went on - so did the weight loss. I got what it meant to portion my meals. What was WORTH eating and how great the (non-food) rewards were, such as smaller size pants! I did a 5k race (not that I knew I was going to really “run” it) and lived to tell about it. Then came another 5k race with Jo!!

Don’t get me wrong - this 5k race was probably only half way to my goal. That was the other important lesson I gave myself - why wait to do things if you can try NOW! At this point my self confidence was shinning more and more. Then came my trip New York where I had a few things on my bucket list and was so blessed to have them come to fruition like walking over the Brooklyn Bridge.

This picture was taken by JD and it so captures my utter joy of completing yet another bucket list item.

In March of this year was the Mud Run that I signed up for in August of last year thinking - I have time to get out of it…….. Not only did I do it - but I finished it. Oh my gosh - whatta feeling. (and yes - it was like “dancing on the ceiling!”)

Only race I ever did that offered beer instead of water at the finish line!! Oh that tasted so good.

I was doing well with watching what I was eating and exercising but…..wasn’t losing anymore weight. Then at 2 o’clock in the morning - was an infomercial for Zumba. I found a class near my house that you paid per class. So I dragged my Maria (because I wasn’t going to do this by myself) to a class on a Friday night. This is after the first class we took.

No words necessary. What I can say - I was hooked but not Maria so much…. I began going because it was actually fun. My Latin roots came out and it was more like dancing than exercising! I did what I could and faked the rest. Oh who cares. I was there and sweating my arse off. Then the weight began coming off. Slowly but it was coming off. I then decided to join a gym where there were other classes to take and low and behold, I hit my goal weight. Down 54 pounds to date.

Today I went to Weight Watcher’s and was brought up to the front of the room and couldn’t even speak. Tears rolled down my face as people who I didn’t know and people that have been supporting me for over a year were clapping and crying with joy with me. I know I did it for myself regardless of what life threw at me. I also accepted support and love from people that genuinely wanted to see me succeed. I know this is only the beginning to sustain this weight but, I am confident with the help of others and God - I can do it. My undying thanks to:

my “crew!” - Matt, me, Frank (WW Leader) and Jo. Can’t wait to celebrate when they hit goal next!!

It began with a picture and ended with a picture. Ton o' blessings until next time.

Thank you.

2013-05-17T12:31:00.000-04:00

Thank you. Two words that are often taken for granted. Why? Why is it so hard to say thank you for something someone did for you. I was once told that I shouldn't do things just to get a thank you, that it was expected of me to do certain things. I never forgot that and trust me, neither did the person who told me ever forget the words I said back to them. In short, I said that you should always say thank you. That appreciation goes very far, and not to take things for granted that they will be done automatically. My lovely daughter Maria often reminds me to do things with a glee heart. Not to do things for affirmation. I do things from my heart - all the time. I just want to take the time to say thank you to some of the people that have believed in me and have always shown me that they've cared. I do truly know that there are so many that today I might not write about, but that certainly doesn't mean that they aren't in my heart.

To Lorraine and Kenn - people I have never met. Thank you. You are the light in my life that starts my day. You set the day for me to be positive. Your kind words and support over the past year has been life saving. For never “meeting” me in person and to have the relationship we have is priceless to me. You have become family to me that I will always treasure. Thank you for never judging me and for always taking the time to listen (excessively at times) to my belly achin’. You will always be in my heart. I love you both.

To Jason and JD - people that opened up their heart and home to me. Thank you. Your generosity during my visit to New York will forever live in my heart. Thank you for letting me cross off many things on my “bucket list” that included the Brooklyn Bridge and taking the subway BY MYSELF! That trip will forever live in my heart as the massive conversations we had and all the picture taking made me feel extremely special. To witness such love between two people and to allow me into your lives - I will forever be grateful. You both are such talented people that I am proud to call my family. I love you both so much.

To Jo and Liz - women that long time ago went from friends to sisters to me. How do I express just how much I love you both. You never gave up on me and have always been there for me in great times and not so great times. I loved when I moved to Florida, that the very first closest friends that I made, were ex-New Yorkers. I guess we really do stick together. Your friendship has meant the world to me and I will forever be grateful that you allowed me into your hearts and into your lives. The fantastic trips and memories will forever be etched in my heart. I am so blessed to have you both.

To Alicia - my long ago friend who God has placed you back in my life. I know you and I both agree there are no such things as coincidences. Our friendship today is brought forth by God Himself as a comfort to me and I hope to you. I have relied on you these past months like I have not relied on anyone so much. Thank you for always finding the right words to say. Your friendship has been that warm fleece blanket on a cold night. I know you are sick of me thanking you for all that you've done and sorry sister - I'm not stopping. I treasure what we have and look forward to what our future brings. Thank you again. (Sorry, I couldn't help myself... )

To Dre, Pete and Kurt - my “sons” from FAU. I love you all so much as if I gave birth to you myself. I love that my home is your home. I love that you call me mom and mean it. Thank you. I will forever be there for you and thank you for being apart of Matty’s life and mine.

To Ingrid - my lacrosse goalie mom who I am so happy to call my friend. I love that our sons Patrick and Christopher played lacrosse together, which feels like a hundred years ago, and that we have kept our friendship going. Thank you for always thinking of me and sending me private messages on Facebook to see how I am doing. Even though we don’t see each other as much as I would like- I know you have a special place in my heart. Thank you for the prayers of support as I have felt every one.

To Adam - Thank you for allowing me into your Fantasy Football world. It is such an honor and pleasure to tweet you and Google chat with you on such important issues as if to keep Cam Newton on my bench. In all seriousness - someone to take the time to answer my questions and concerns and to be a friend to me, I will forever be grateful. I know you don’t see yourself as a huge superstar of the NFL network channel, but I do. Your humor and insight are invaluable. Thank you for always going the extra mile to make me smile and yes, I do know you always tweet me back. Thank you my friend.

To my family (as I don’t want to write all the names down in fear of forgetting someone and getting that back lash - you know who you are.) Thank you. God has made us family through DNA (and also including your spouses) for the love I have for you all is beyond that. Thank you for always checking up on me and loving me unconditionally. I am thankful for Facebook for allowing us to “see” each other when we can’t see each other in person. I love seeing all the pictures of the good times we've had and treasure that I can see them whenever I want. Your love and prayers mean the world to me.

Last and certainly not least to Maria, Matty and Patrick. Thank you to our Lord for blessing me and giving me the honor to be your mother. You have given me the will to become the person I am today. Thank you Matty and Patrick for being the sons that I am beyond proud of. Thank you for loving me and always allowing me to be mushy with you. Thank you for always saying “love you Mommy” in front of your friends. You will never know how much that means to me. Most young men would never do that. And to my Maria, thank you for being my best friend and soul mate. I know you've always believed I wanted that third boy (Joseph Anthony) but you're wrong. I now know why God blessed me with having a girl. I treasure our relationship as Mother/daughter but treasure our friendship even more. I love your honesty (well most of the time….) and that you’ll hold my hand where ever we go. Thank you my baby girl for loving me and believing in me. You hold a special place in my heart and please never forget that. And yes, I will wear the “Affirmation Queen” crown proudly.

Thank you all for allowing me this time to thank the special people in my life. As I start a new chapter in my life, I will always make it a point of saying "thank you" to those who are with me every step of the way. Don’t waste another day, thank someone today. Even the AAA mechanic I hugged for coming out and replacing my battery and getting me on my way. I want to leave you with this YouTube video. Play it whenever you need it. Trust me - I have this on my desktop just for those special occausions. Until next time, ton o’ blessings to ya.

A “Mother’s instinct?” Well, it could have been…

2011-09-26T09:08:00.000-04:00

As a new school year is under way, I am reminded when Patrick (my oldest) went away to college. As a parent, you do the best you can to prepare them to be on their own and to have them make the best decisions. Well, that is what I believed we did before he left for school.

I am truly thankful for social media such as Facebook to keep in touch with him as well as calling his cell (a bit too often for him) to see how he is doing. As a mother, you know your child when you are on the phone and something doesn’t sound right. I remember one such phone call that I felt something was wrong or that Patrick was not telling me something. I asked if he had something he needed to tell me but he said everything was ok. I then dropped it as you can only ask so many times.

I was in the den on the family computer when I noticed that it was running very slow. Knowing about computers, I decided to “clean up” storage space by deleting old videos, songs and pictures that I knew the kids didn’t want. As I opened the picture file, I viewed them as small thumb nail files. I started to go down the page deleting photos, when my heart stopped and I couldn’t catch my breath. There in front of me was a picture of “someone” in a mirror with just his mid section showing with a tattoo on the side of his hip. Now it didn’t take long to figure out, it was Patrick.

The tattoo was of a bird with many colors. I just started to cry. How could he do this! Doesn’t he know you can’t “erase” a tattoo? Why didn’t he tell us? My first reaction was to call him immediately and scream at him, but thought I better not.

It was only a week later that Patrick had come home from school for a visit before Christmas break. As he walked in the door, I wanted to pull his shirt up and go “what‘s that?!” But I didn’t. As we were settling in after dinner, I asked to see Patrick in his room and closed the door. His face said it all. He knew, I knew something was up. I had asked him if he had something to tell me. He thought about it and said, “…….no.” I asked again but said, “maybe you have something to show me?” Well, he turned white and said, “…..what? No.” I told him that it was my “motherly instinct” that he was hiding something from me. That God gives us mother’s instincts to go on and that I surely knew, there was something he had to tell me.

At that point, he lifted up his shirt and there it was.

I just shook my head and told him we have to tell Daddy but it was going to be ok. I asked “why didn’t you tell me?” He replied “I knew you would have had a fit.” I, of course, kept to myself how I really found out as I do believe that it was a mother’s instinct from God to find that picture on the computer that day. Reactions were mixed and everything seemed to settle down.

A couple of days later while at Barnes and Noble, Maria was singing Christmas songs with her school choir. I had walked away during a break to go look at magazines. What made me look at tattoo magazines can only be described as God whispering in my ear. I picked up one that can only be described as “what horrible, horrific, scary tattoo” can you get on your body. As I looked at these tattoos, I thought, “oh my gosh, they are stuck with these for the rest of their lives!” No tattoo removal would work for some of these large scary tattoos. All of a sudden, I started to cry thinking Patrick could have had one of those. Stuck with something like that or something like this:

Now, no disrespect to the tattoo artist, as this is very detailed but ….. would you want your son to have this on him for the rest of his life? Well, I walked out of the building and called Patrick immediately. He was probably in class, and it went to voicemail. I was sobbing saying ”I’m not happy about the tattoo but I'm happy that it’s a bird - it’s the “Holy Spirit” bird - right?” “I mean, you had happy thoughts when you got it - right?” “At least you didn’t get a ’dead baby head’ or devil tattoo - right?” As I was sniffling along and making no sense what-so-ever, I thought it best to hang up. I forgot that I put my phone on silent and missed Patrick‘s call back. There was a message from him. As I listened to the message he opened up with, “Mommy - it’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon and are you drunk.” “What is wrong with you?” “Ok - fine, it’s the ’Holy Spirit’ bird if you want it to be, talk to you later, love you.”

I was looking around to see if “Candid Camera” was on me. I felt so stupid. Why did I react that way. He was eighteen at the time, had his own money and made the decision himself. He was brought up to respect people and love his family which he did both very well. I called him back and he answered the phone. I told him I was not drunk and told him what I saw. That he could have really gotten worse things and that as I was not thrilled with his decision but it was something I could accept.

Now we laugh about it as I still tell him, don’t keep anything from me as my “motherly instincts” can come out at anytime and I will find out.

P.S. - don’t tell him, I think it’s kinda cute as a matter of fact. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Marco Island - the perfect vacation? Almost.

2011-08-16T15:38:00.001-04:00

Every year since 2004, I have visited Marco Island Beach, Florida around the end of July or early August. What started out as the annual Century 21 Convention that was always held at the Marriott, turned into the annual “girls trip to Marco!” Only a couple of times did we bring our families to the convention in those early years as the Real Estate market was booming and so was the money. Don’t get me wrong, those trips were great, but, as the market tanked, so did the convention.

There were four of us that would go no matter what. We knew that money was tight and we had to make this trip as cost efficient as possible to tell the husbands that it was still worth it for us to go. Not that they would complain but, still it was a nice time to get away from it all. All the crap about work, contracts, buyers, sellers, deals falling through, short sales, etc! I know I have friends that do not believe in going on “vacations” without their spouses, but to that I say, rubbish. Now, now, I believe in the sanctity of marriage but sometimes, you just need your girlfriends.

One of the “girls” could not go because of other trips that were planned at that time, and we had to “fill” that spot. Need-to-say it was filled quickly. We knew that we would keep to our “well oiled machine” vacation and whoever came would fit right in.

Around a month or so before we were scheduled for our trip, we start the “count down.” We either would text message each other how many days till Marco or leave voicemail messages. And why does it always seem that right before it's time for vacation, stuff happens. This year was no excuse.

Helen, one of the original four, calls Maureen (original four) the Sunday before we are scheduled to leave in the morning (as in 7am.) She says that she is going to the emergency room because she has this lump on her throat and is not feeling well. In the past, my dear friend Maureen would call me usually while I am driving over “Alligator Alley” (75 North,) to tell me that she forgot something and has to go back home, or that Helen didn’t wake up in time so they are going to be late coming over to meet us at the local Naples Walmart. Of course it's a big fat lie just to get me upset, and I am embarrassed to say, she gets me every year.

I am at church, thanking God in advance of the great trip I am about to take with my three other friends when I get back into my car to see that I have a voicemail from Maureen. She opens with “this is not a joke, repeat- this is not a joke.” My heart skips a beat and I proceed to listen to the rest of the message that Helen is indeed at the hospital and I should quickly go meet her there.

God bless emergency rooms. Unless you are dying on their floor, you ain’t gonna be seen right away. This was no different. On the positive side, at least Helen was ok enough to wait. And wait we did. Three hours later and my arse hurting from the “little kids” chair that Maureen made me sit on, Helen gets into where the doctor will see her. We are like little kids misbehaving. Who’s going through the drawers, who’s checking out the cute EMT’s coming in, etc. Of course, we stand in faith that Helen is ok and that she’ll be in the car in the morning bright and early. Um……no.

Maureen text messages me at 6:45am that Helen is not coming and that she is still pretty sick. The medicine that they gave her made her nauseous and she just did not want to make the trip. I was devastated. Now we are down to three.

Now Margaret came on time at eight in the morning to pick me up and I was determined that we are still going to have a great time. I felt bad that Maureen drove over by herself but knew I would be driving home with her on the way back. (Margaret had to leave a day early.)

With a quick prayer of thanks and protection we get over to the west coast of Florida in no time. We buy our food and drinks for the week and off to the hotel we went.

No, we did not open them up until we were parked at the hotel and had our arses on the beach. I did though, pack a mean cooler that day. The weather was great as it always is on Marco Island. The sunsets are beautiful as this was taken from our balcony.

Even though we are “away” from family and work, that still doesn't stop us from working. Emails, contracts still need to be dealt with and this was no exception. The hotel had a business center where we would go every day to finish work and quickly go back out to the beach.

I love those times that it’s late, I mean really late and you have those “talks.” I had that special time on the rocking chairs on the deck at 1 a.m. (well, I think it was 1 a.m.!) with Maureen. It’s really those times that you appreciate your friendship. Doesn’t matter what you look like or how you sound, a friend will just listen. For that, I am so appreciative for that time with Maureen. And please, do not call her “Mo!” She hates it and I wouldn’t dare dream of doing it. I hope I listened as well as she did.

When you are “our age,” (doesn’t that sound horrible,) it is so much fun to just sit on the beach and people watch. That is what we did for five days. The weather was great, we had our food and coolers always packed and like usual, was the down time that we all needed. I would never want to take that time for granted. You come back ready and relaxed to take care of your family.

On our one night out - it is a ritual that we order “mango martini’s.” It’s not a trip to Marco without them.

Loved the picture so much, it has been my new profile picture on Facebook, new background picture on my blog and last but not least, my Twitter avatar. This is what it’s all about. Smiling and laughing and just being with friends. Don’t we all deserve that? Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time!

Living vicariously through my children’s vacations? Not a bad thing!

2011-07-25T10:50:00.000-04:00

Let me start off with the fact that I did not grow up poor. I am the youngest of three siblings that lived with a single Mom. I didn't have my Dad in the picture till much later in life. With that said, growing up I was in awe of friends who would say that they go away every summer or go on these vacations around the country. Now my mother did the best she could and looking back the only “vacation” I remember, was going to my Aunt Na’s house who lived on a golf course. I would go and my cousin and I would chase down golf balls and throw them farther or hide them! She had the best house. One of those houses with what seemed like a million floors (I think four floors in all.) Never did my family go on those long drive vacations to the shore, or “Hershey Park” or anything like that. We had growing up “Playland” in Rye, New York that constituted my big vacations. Going to an old amusement park. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t know any better but always in the back of my mind, I knew if and when I had children, I would want them to experience vacations in a much bigger and better way. And I did.

When we moved to Missouri, little did we know that Missouri had a ton of attractions, museums and a great Zoo - which of course, was free. My oldest son Patrick had to have made a record for the youngest guest to go through the Budweiser tour before the age of three! Now, now - we always brought friends visiting to the tour and had Patrick in tow. We would drive back to New York when the kids were little, stay and visit with family and stay in hotels . Our favorite time as a family would be our trips into New York City.

This was taken on the top of the Empire States Building and was the spot that Billy asked (told me) I was going to be his girlfriend some twenty four years ago!

We drove down to Florida to visit with friends and go on their boat and clam dig. The kids loved staying in hotels and running around and all those dinners out. When we moved to Florida, we made the big trip to Disney. That was always a dream of mine as a child, as it was new back then and looked magical. I knew I wanted the kids to experience that.

That smile says it all. In fact that smile never left her face. Not sure if the boys had the same great time as Maria and I did! I remember walking down the street in Magic Kingdom and I started to cry. I didn’t want the kids to see me cry but got so overwhelmed with the feeling that God had blessed us to be able to give to our kids what I didn’t have. I sat in that moment and could still “go back” to that moment even now.

Then came the skiing trips. We had the opportunity to go with Liz and her family skiing. Those trips were a blast. Living in Florida, you never get that experience of snow and cold weather let alone being able to ski! The kids loved it and even today, we are trying to plan another ski trip this winter because it really has been too long!

The boys took to snowboarding as Maria was skiing down “Black Diamond” runs before the age of ten! I remember we went tubing and as I was being pulled up the hill, again the tears came. Thankfully, no one saw but I can remember clear as day, the crisp snow flakes hitting my face and the sky filled with stars and having that quiet moment with God, thanking HIM yet again for HIS blessings.

What I am trying to say in this blog, is that I’m not boo hooing about not having the kind of trips my children have had. I am so grateful and appreciative to have given them these great trips that I did not experience as a child. I am blessed that my children get it. Get the fact that these are blessings (that and I have a tendency to remind them “how many trips did Mommy go on as a kid? - none - that’s right!) They, too, are blessed with wonderful friends who have brought them away on their vacations on yachts, beach houses, deep sea fishing trips, etc.. The great thing about those trips, they appreciate it even more and enjoy telling you all about it when they come home.

You make the trip what it is. Even trips to our local beach, we make it fun. We even stood over night in a hotel on the beach that was twenty minutes from our house, just because! I hope one day my children will do what we have taught them to do when they have children of their own, appreciate God’s gifts no matter how big or how small. I hope you take some time out today to remember your childhood vacations and remind your children how blessed they are to have their vacations as well!

Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time! Now pass me the sunscreen - I’m off to Marco Island.

Marco Island 2010 with the girls. Annual trip that will take place next Monday! Stay tuned…….

Divorcing my BFF - Liz? Not gonna happen.

2011-07-14T19:12:00.002-04:00

I recently read a blog that went over a check list of what someone might look for in a best friend. It really intrigued me. I never thought of a check list for a best friend. Looking over the list, I quickly checked off yes to all 10 attributes in reference to my friend Liz. Things on that list included; honesty (does these jeans make my butt look big - um…yes,) ability to laugh (apple martinis help,) comforts in time of need (see apple martinis,) agrees to disagree (Republican vs. Democrat,) to name a few. I wanted to give something to her to let her know she means the world to me now and forever.

This is my letter to Liz.

Dearest Liz,

I can not believe it is almost eleven years that we met at Maria’s house for the MOM’s meeting. It seems like yesterday. I knew I liked you the instant we met. Loved that you were an ex-New Yorker. Weren’t we all? Was so excited to get to know you and off you went during that summer to New York and I wouldn’t see you until school started. Ugh. I was teaching Religious education (CCD) at church with someone that I really didn’t like and knew I didn’t want to teach with her again. I was walking into the parish school and you were walking out, when we bumped into each other and started chatting (the start of many, many chats to come,) when you suggested that we teach together. You said you like to do arts and crafts (which you know I hate!) and I would do more of teaching scripture. Frick and Frack as we were known, was born.

Matty and Katie’s 1st communion picture in 2001. They look like a little bride and groom!

How we talked everyday. Special friendships are a rarity, but I knew this was the start of one for sure.

Then came 9/11. Even though we were only friends a short amount of time, it was strange (not a coincidence) that we called each other 4 days after the attack and said, almost at the same time, we have to go to New York and do something, anything.

Everything about putting that trip together went perfectly. We were set to go November 1st. We had the parish school make rosaries for which we would drop off at Ground Zero for whom ever wanted them. It was great to have “our kids” make a poster for the fireman to let them know we care and that we will pray for them as well. I was deathly frightened to fly considering what had happened on 9/11. But not you - you were as cool as they get. Then we get the front row of the plane with the bad breath dentist guy who kept saying “if this was your last five minutes on earth until you died - who would you call first?” Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me?? I wanted to throw the guy out the emergency door! Then you said you had to go potty. Oh no you are not leaving me, and to make matters worse - I look behind us to think two guys in the back, look like “terrorists.” Yes, it was stupid, but my head was spinning from being on the plane and flying! You said if you didn’t come back in five minutes, to take the 50 rosaries and go choke them! Nice…….

We get to New York and God so had His hand on this trip. How was I to know that when we visited my mom, and took a picture, it would be the last time I saw her alive. And you were there. We laughed and of course, she made us something to eat. I will always treasure that moment that you were with me and my mom.

We get to the city and again, God lead us to Ladder 6 where they greeted us so warmly. They embraced our gift and even let us stay to help them cook dinner!

We were truly blessed to have had that time with all of them. Then came time to donate the rosaries. We walked and walked and couldn’t find the main area to donate them when we stumbled upon a side entrance for a church and ended up at the rectory. We were greeted by this priest who said, "are these the rosaries that we were waiting for?" We had no idea what he was talking about and said, um…yes? He said he was so happy to have them and that he would make sure that they were distributed amongst the workers and that HE felt blessed that we gave them to him. You can’t make this stuff up.

Then came the trips together. The family skiing trips to Snowshoe and our trips to Marco Island. Boy could we drink, I mean talk and talk until the sun came up. Did we ever have not have something to say?

Then like all true friendships, ours was tested. What seemed like forever, we didn’t talk as much and too much time went by. Again, it seemed like we both at the same time knew it was time to talk it out. If we wanted this friendship it was time we made it work. And we did. So yeah, we’re back to where we were with talking every day and going to the beach and those coffee breaks at Starbucks. Then you meet me for lunch and with this grin, tell me you’re moving out of state. What? You can’t leave me. But, I knew what you were going through and what you needed most was a friend. Someone who understood the pressures of moving your family from one state to another!

Well, that Saturday came and Billy and I went over to your house to “help pack” but in reality, it was to say good bye. Billy was great to give us some space after he bent down to hug you and then it was my turn. My eyes still tear up thinking about how I just didn’t want to let you go. Why does it make it easier to just say, “call me later - ok?”

Thank you again for allowing me to officiate your wedding renewal vows ceremony. What an honor and pleasure it was. It also was a great party to remember and a send off that no one will soon forget.

Now, my Maria tells me, “with Liz gone, I know someone you could be best friends with!” I was a bit confused and thought, she just wants me to have our friendship here and now in Florida, but what she doesn't understand is that you are and always will be my best friend whether you're here or not. I miss and love you my friend and you know - I'll call you later.

All my love,

Dina

Casey Anthony verdict - how could something positive come out of this?

2011-07-05T19:33:00.000-04:00

It's four hours and twenty minutes since the world heard the words "not guilty" addressed to Casey Anthony. Not that I'm counting but......

I thought it was ironic as I sat with my computer on, with the tabs of Facebook and Twitter up and both time lines were busy with status' and tweets of people generally just wanting justice for Caylee Marie Anthony. As the time got nearer to the reading of the verdict, my Twitter page crashes and my Facebook freezes. Seriously? I have been watching, reading, tweeting with other trial watchers with all different opinions and this is the moment we all have been waiting for! I was truly blessed to have met some wonderful people during these past few weeks that have had similar views to my own. Don't get me wrong, there were other people that had different opinions but again, we all got along. I was able to send a text message to my friend who said she would text me when the verdict was going to be read!

As God is so good, my Twitter page and Facebook page refreshed and the world was right again. The feeling before the verdict was read was like being at the dinner table with your friends and who is talking over who. At one point, we all just stopped and prayed for justice. OK some were praying for other things ........(like the electric chair for Casey,) but all in all it was a moment I won't forget. This was so similar to "where were you when the OJ Simpson verdict was read." I was working at a YMCA in Missouri and was just about to go into a class, towel wrapped around me while looking up at the screen in the girls locker room. Was so shocked by that verdict that I could not teach. Nor did my class want to participate so we just water walked for an hour and tried to reason that verdict. That never happened. Still to this day - I do not understand.

I still feel and will always feel, aren't we blessed to live in a country that allows us to agree to disagree. Right now, I know people are gathering to pray for Caylee, Cindy, George, Lee Anthony and even Casey Anthony. We are not here to judge but if you were on Twitter or Facebook lately - we certainly can voice our opinions. My son Matthew has had a hard time with me regarding my personal time/feelings about this case. I'll go as far to say, he just didn't get why I was "obsessed" with the trial. Obsessed? Nah. Just a mom who couldn't fathom having a two and half year old girl one day and gone the next and possibly having something to do with it? I am thankful for my Twitter family and my Facebook family that continue to respond to my status' or tweets regarding this trial. So happy to have made such wonderful new friends and how much fun it was to "introduce" old friends to my new friends. I want to clarify a point that upset me a few weeks back. Some one on Twitter made a comment, how could we laugh or make fun or admire (#YummyYuri) when the trial was all about the death of a two and half year old girl. To that I would say, we never forgot that point, nor will we ever forget that point but you have to find that down time to keep sane. There was never a point of disrespect towards Caylee, to the contrary - I saw more love, prayers and even peace come from a child we never knew.

Tonight I will do what I have been doing for weeks. I will pray for Caylee to rest in peace, pray for Casey and her family who have the toughest road ahead of them and pray in thanksgiving for the family I have here in my home and my computer.

The bottom line, this was about a beautiful little girl who we never knew but has touched our lives in a way we will never forget. Rest in Peace Caylee.

I'm going to hug my kids now, I suggest you do the same. Ton o' blessings until next time.

Answering Machine a blessing? Mona’s story.

2011-06-24T12:11:00.001-04:00

I had a best friend named Mona whom I lived one door down when I lived in New York. We lived on the end of the building and Mona and her kids lived one door down. This made for great times. Looking back, I truly felt for our next door neighbor that dealt with us screaming over the fences to one another. In my late teens/early twenties, I would often go over to her house and just talk. She has two boys and one girl (which would happen to me years later,) that I was in awe of how she was raising them. Their father was in their lives but I spent more time with her and the kids. She loved to barbecue. My mother would say, as the screen door was open, “there they go again, barbecuing!” I would quickly run over with hotdogs or whatever I would want to barbecue as we really didn’t do that much barbequing until I met Billy. Yes, in the dead of winter, snow piled three feet high, she was barbecuing! She would scream over the fence for me to come over. And I did, every time. We started a friendship that I loved. When Billy and I got married, we of course, invited the whole clan.

I loved that red dress. That was her. We all had the best time at the wedding. At the end of the wedding, Billy and I were saying goodbye to our guests and then we looked at each other and said - um, how are we getting back to the house? We never made “those” arrangements. Thank God, Mona forgot something in the hall and saw us and said she would take us back to my mom’s house before we left on our honeymoon. Big dress and all, we all squeezed into the van. She also graciously offered to take us to the airport in Queens, New York. No short ride. As we were getting near the airport, she missed the exit and yes, she backed up on the highway and got off the right exit. Thought I was going to die before the honeymoon even started!

Fast forward to when I thought I was pregnant with my first born. I went to the doctors office to make sure I was pregnant, and got the news that I was indeed expecting my first born. Got home to run over to her house to tell her first. She stood there with tears and we hugged and cried. Didn’t even tell Billy or my mom yet. That was the special relationship we had.

Then it was time for us to move to Missouri. Days leading up to us leaving were awful. We would see each other on the sidewalk and just cry. The night before we left, we hugged so long and wouldn’t let go. The next day we were off to Missouri to start a new life.

I would send “snail mail” to her as I did not have a computer, pictures of the kids or at Christmas time that Christmas photo card with the kids in their Christmas outfits. I loved that she told me the picture was up on their refrigerator. Made me feel that she wasn’t going to forget us.

We went back a couple of times but then there was a longer break between visits. I had Maria during the summer of 1996 and going back to New York proved harder with three little ones. It was May of the following year when I got a package from Federal Express, from Mona. I was so excited to open it up and see she had gotten me an outfit for Maria, along with a hand written stationary card. The outfit was adorable and she also included pictures from her daughters college graduation the weekend prior. Looking at the photo, you are looking at it from her eyes as she took the picture.

Still makes me smile that you know how proud she must have been to see all three of her children graduate from top schools as in Michigan State, Duke and University of North Carolina. Remember there was no applying to colleges online. I remember seeing all the stacks, upon stacks of papers, applications on the kitchen table. She was the super mom who did it all. Drove them with the rental truck to their college dorms, dropped them off and called to tell me how sad, yet proud she was of them.

In her card she said that she will try not to let so much time go by before I hear back from her. I totally understood. Having three children now - I get it. I called around 6 o’clock that Friday evening and left her a message that said, I got her package and loved the outfit and card and how I loved the picture of the kids. I went on to say, not to worry about not getting back sooner and as I was ending my message, I said to her “I love you so much my friend, and we’ll talk soon!”

The next day, my sister called me at one in the afternoon with news that Mona had passed away last night. I told her that was impossible as I got this gift and card and left her a message last night. My world stopped. I was blessed to have gotten the chance to attend her funeral a few days later and my heart was crushed to see her children.

I was hugging her daughter and told her of the day I got the package and how I left her that message. She didn’t know what message I was talking about as their answering machine light was not on and there was no new messages. It was at that point, we had figured out that Mona had listened to my message before she passed away. How blessed, how blessed was I that my friend heard the words “I love you my friend and we’ll talk soon” before she left this earth. Don’t you see, you never know when you do something that will affect your life forever. I take that blessing with me everyday. Every day I look at my two boys and one girl and think, would Mona say that or do that for her kids.

I love you Mona and miss you more everyday. You would be so proud of the way your children are now as adults. I know we will see each other again and I hope you are proud of the mom that I have become. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Friends that are LIKE family - wait - they ARE family!

2011-06-08T12:55:00.000-04:00

Over Memorial Day weekend, Billy, Maria and I went to the west coast of Florida to my cousin’s son’s wedding. Now, that would make us second cousins, I’m sure, but we don’t think of it that way as we ALL are just family. With that said, the days/weeks leading up to the wedding have been, to say the least, stressful. Truly nice to have something to look forward to attending. I truly believe that God puts those not so nice times whether it is regarding work, family, events before you go away as to make you stop and appreciate the time that was given you, to enjoy.

We were to arrive Friday and meet up with family at the hotel. Even that Friday morning we were running around packing the van, finishing laundry, buying food for the boys who stayed at home (and not to worry, they apparently had a good time while we were away!) Going over to the west coast via Highway 75 north - there is nothing to do but go straight. I mean really straight. As in, go ahead, put the car on autopilot and take a stinking nap because you seriously do not turn the wheel for 98 miles. It was at that time that Billy, Maria and I just started to relax, get excited about seeing everyone. God bless Facebook as we (family and friends that were attending the wedding) would leave posts on each other’s wall just saying how exciting and fun the weekend will be. Now unfortunately for most people, they would be afraid that the expectations would fall short. Not this group.

The wedding was schedule for Sunday night so we had the whole weekend to spend with family and friends. We did so by hanging out on the beach, my cousin gave anyone who wanted a ride in his new boat and the rest hung out at the pool area. If you heard laughing, I guarantee it was coming from my family. It was so nice to just take that step back and enjoy each other’s company. We got to catch up on what is going on and it really did feel like we just saw each other last week when it had been probably been a year or two since we’ve seen each other. That’s what makes this family special to me. There’s no negativity that we’ve hadn’t seen each other or nasty shots at one another, it’s taking the situation and making the best out of it. And we did. Apparently there is a video out there of me “making the best out of the situation a bit too much!”

My cousin, the groom, around one in the morning!

Talk about letting your hair down. It was Saturday night and we all were around the pool area just laughing and having a good time when I talked to my other cousin’s wife and realized that I hadn’t really talked to her in the past. Now, that could have been uncomfortable but we didn’t skip a beat. Got into great conversations that lead myself and three other women to really letting down our hair. Stress, problems, worries - not here. The fact that my cousin who was getting married had his friends laughing and partying with us made it so much fun. Oh why not. I’ve said it before, you are in charge of your feelings, emotions and actions. I chose to have a good time and I sure did (well, maybe too good of a time……)

Sunday comes (which we were still up when Sunday came apparently two thirty in the morning,) and God had given us another glorious day. Along the lines of you can’t make this stuff up, the wedding was to begin at six thirty in the evening. It was sunny all day but at six o’clock, it started to drizzle and the sky became dark. Being a faithful person, I started to pray and ask God, please don’t let it rain on their ceremony (which was outside of course, on the beach!) Now I would love to think it was MY prayer that worked but I’m sure there were a ton of people doing the same thing as when the clock hit six thirty and the groomsmen and bridesmaids came out, so the rain stopped and it was cool. No steamy sun or hot humid weather but perfect weather during the whole ceremony.

As you can see the weather cleared up and the ceremony was beautiful. Cried like a baby. Looking around you could feel the warmth (no pun intended) of love and friendship all around. I truly felt that there was no difference between friends or family. The great part, it was mostly family that just had the best time as friends. Isn’t that what it’s all about?

Congrats Emily and Jeremy - may God continue to bless you now and forever. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Finale, Facebook and Farewell. Part 3 of Trip to NYC.

2011-05-24T09:44:00.000-04:00

It is with great sadness that I write of the passing of my Father-in-law this past week. What a journey it has been. Since returning home from our trip in January of this year, the roller coaster ride of his health proved to be a long and painful ride. Going back to when we returned home from our trip, it was days before Billy and I really talked about the time we were in New York. How blessed were we to have that alone time with his Dad and Mom. During the visits to the hospital, I had seen my mother-in-law’s love for her husband and felt blessed to have witnessed it. A couple of days had gone by when we were home that we received news that my father-in-law had taken a turn for the worst and again, it was a matter of time that he would not survive. We waited by the phone for that inevitable call that he was gone but…..it never came. We called and was greeted by my mother-in-law that another doctor came in and told them that my father-in-law could make a recovery. Wow. A week or so went by and we got the good news that he was being moved to another rehabilitation center farther north to recuperate .

It was at that time that the phone calls we were getting, he was doing ok and even standing with a walker. He was at that point a walking miracle. But with all operations come setbacks. This was no exception. Once more, came the phone calls that he wasn’t do well and it seemed that his time on earth was drawing near to the end. I know that I have said it before on my blog but my hope in writing this is to let people know, it is very hard on loved ones that are not near (states away) family and can not make the trip up when they get that call that things are not good and it is a matter of time. You walk around the house frustrated that you can not do anything. I have always found solace in the fact that I could always pray.

Weeks turned into months that it seemed that maybe, just maybe my father-in-law truly was out of the woods and on his way of making a full recovery. During those weeks (months) it has been such a wonderful gift of receiving messages from both my new Twitter friends and my Facebook friends always asking me how my father-in-law was doing. I wish I could somehow draw, photograph, put into words the feeling you get knowing someone is praying for you, your husband and his family that they don’t even know. It was an overwhelming feeling of peace. That is what we felt these past months.

Last Monday night, Billy was on the phone with his mom and had gotten the news that it really does not look good. You want to believe that we have heard this before and maybe he would pull through again. That was not to be the case. The next morning Billy had gotten the call that his dad had passed away peacefully.

Let me say for the record, I love Facebook and Twitter and the ability to get messages that mean the world to me (and my family.) I had posted that after a long and painful journey that my father-in-law had passed away and within minutes, outpouring of sympathy and prayer messages were left on my wall. For us - it was a cyber hug that just felt good.

Farewell Dad and finally rest in peace. Tell my Mom I said hello. Ton o’ blessings until next time.

OK - Sorry to tell you, but stop taking “film” of your kid playing lacrosse, he’s still not going to Duke.

2011-04-26T18:49:00.000-04:00

Another year is about to past in my children’s school career. Career you ask? Well, yes. I’ve been told that I better have my son’s resume done properly and isn’t it a shame that he didn’t take more (or any) AP (advance placement) classes. I truly wish someone would (now maybe me!) have wrote a book explaining that not all children are the same. The expectation put on children today is astronomical. Being here in South Florida, the sport of lacrosse is now just getting popular. Like it or not, Saint Andrews school in Boca Raton put South Florida lacrosse on the map. They started producing young talent which Division 1 schools started to take notice. I am thrilled that my boys play the sport and wish I had started them earlier. How many of you have started your children young in hopes of them one day playing for a Division 1 school.

When my oldest was a senior there was a mom (who will remain nameless) came to the games and quietly sat by herself most of the time. I would often try to strike up a conversation but it never really got anywhere. As time went on, this mom was determined that her son was going to be “recognized” for his lacrosse talent. Unfortunately, this player did not have the grades. His playing skills were good but he was not a team player.

At one of the games, I went over to say hi and noticed she had a small digital camera taking video of her son. I looked closely to find the camera glass was shattered. I inquired as to what she was looking at as I could not make out a thing on the screen. She just said that she was pointing it towards her son the whole game and that she was sure it would “probably” work. Um…….I don’t think so, I said to myself. I asked her what she was going to do with the video in hopes of maybe getting some idea for my sons but, she had no idea. Really, she just thought she would have it “in case” a coach wanted to see it. I smiled (what else was I going to do) and wished her well and said “hey, let me know how it turns out!”

Sorry to say that player did not make it to a Division 1 school on a lacrosse scholarship. Lacrosse scholarships are near impossible to get but you can sign up on the NCAA website, www.ncaa.org and they can explain that your player might be eligible for a “sports” scholarship.

Please let me add my opinion, and that is what a blog is, an opinion, your player (son or daughter) should like the school first before liking it for the sport they play as I have seen personally, excellent athletes who get scholarships to play, either not produce the good grades or have gotten injured and guess where they end up? That’s right, home. There is nothing wrong with encouragement, but please stop pressuring the kids of today with your hopes and dreams that really are not theirs. Another lacrosse season for us has come to the end and again, my eyes will be filled with tears at the sports banquet saying goodbye to my lacrosse sons. Excited to see what the future brings and always a word of advise that no matter what happens, I’m proud of them and hope we always keep in touch. God bless Facebook and Twitter. Ton o’ blessings until next time.

My Son Matthew (Matty) and I at the last game(before my short hair cut!) He is looking forward to playing his senior year and hopes to play in college - you know - "in case" any coaches are reading this ;)

Full circle? Not quite but I almost flew off the road!

2011-03-30T11:32:00.001-04:00

Looking back when I was a kid, I remember how many times my mother would say “wait until you have kids.” I never gave it another thought as I would say to myself “I am going to let my kids do whatever they want and never punish them…..etc.” She would tell me that I don’t listen well or I’m not paying attention. I was. Well, I thought I did. With that said, fast forward thirty years.

How blessed I feel that my oldest son is now coaching his alumni high school Junior Varsity lacrosse team. Truly, this is where he belongs. Mother-of-the-year here had major doubts. Times I would believe he was too quite, non committed in other aspects of his life so how is it that this is a perfect fit!?! It is a proud mama moment to watch him at practice command attention and instruct his players.

A couple of weeks ago as we were driving down to practice together, I looked over to see him look puzzled. Kind of shaking his head in disbelief. As I was driving, I turned to him and asked if he was ok and what was wrong. OK, picture this. I have my hands on the wheel, looking at him and trying to concentrate on the road and cars ahead of me when he turns and says “I don’t get it.” “What don’t you get,” I replied. “How is it that I tell them (his players) what to do, and they don’t listen.” “What??” I nearly ran off the road. “They don’t listen to you?” (Flashbacks here.) He then says, “I know what I am talking about, and they still don’t listen.”

OK, are you getting the big picture here? I wanted to scream, “welcome to parenting!,” but I didn’t. I was a supportive mom and let him go on, albeit a bit longer than I thought when I couldn’t resist saying, “you tell them to do something and they don’t do it, and you get upset.” “Hmmmm…you know what you’re doing and they still don’t listen.” “Hmmmm….I feel for ya.”

Now, I could not love my son anymore than I do, but he still was not getting the whole parent=coach analogy here, nor did I explain it to him. I just told him to keep doing what he was doing and “mean what you say, say what you mean.” I am thankful that I did not get into a car accident as my head did hurt from swinging back to see his face when he told me, “they just don’t listen!” Looking up to heaven I said to myself “OK mom, you were right.”

Patrick at his first home game coaching the first ever Junior Varsity game at his old high school. Another proud momma moment. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Opposing Parent: “Get Number 1 - push him down!” Me: “But you guys are up 13 - 1?

2011-03-16T11:38:00.000-04:00

As parents, why do you go to your child’s lacrosse (or any other sport for that matter) game? Do you go to support the team, watch your child, socialize with the other parents? For me, it is all of the above. I truly enjoy watching all my children play their respective sports.

Yesterday, what I witnessed was appalling. Please keep in mind that we (meaning the lacrosse team/family) knew that our opponent was going to be difficult to say the least to win. With that said, we just wanted to see a good game. A game that is played with sportsmanship, good passing/catching and excitement! What we got was a mauling from the other team. Do not get me wrong, the team is a good team with the best record but to beat up on us (literally) was uncalled for.

We were in trouble about 4 minutes into the game where we were down 3 - nothing. But that’s ok, we still were encouraging our players to play well and not give up. They were scoring quite quickly and the gap really started to widen. That’s fine, but, at 13 - 1 and the parents in a frenzy to “whack” our players and score again was a bit much. I was sitting up on the stands, pretty much by myself (I like to yell - what a shock) when I heard a parent say, “get number one!” “Push him down” “Hey number one stop being a baby and get up!” Ok, that got me aggravated. Our number one player, who that parent was yelling at, is a freshman playing for the first time on our team. Knowing we are not going to catch up, we are blessed with a coach that believes to put all players in to get the playing time experience. Then I was walking on the sidelines to hear the coach on the opposing team baiting our defense players. Are you kidding me? Any one that knows me, knew it took all my strength not to go kick that coaches butt and take him out.

This all goes back to my original question. Knowing that your team is going to play a team that will likely beat you, what is your attitude going into watching the game.

Not even a week ago, Billy and I, by ourselves went to go see a lacrosse game that was not our team. Why? Because we truly enjoy watching good lacrosse played by good players and watching good coaches. Paid the fee to get in and was certainly not disappointed. Both teams played hard, competitively and was exciting to watch. That is the attitude I had going into yesterday’s game. I just wanted to see good lacrosse. What I got was players that ran up a score/showboated/horrible parent chants and horrible coaching ethics. Come on here people, ESPN was not filming the game, Chazz Woodson was not there recruiting for his team, just play the game.

I woke up this morning feeling like this blog had to be said. I am embarking on a new blog that will be devoted to lacrosse. I will be interviewing parents/coaches/vendors to get the inside story of what a parent/new player goes through starting out playing this sport. I want to hear what equipment works/what camps work and for that matter doesn’t work to help the player thrive. Lacrosse here in Florida is still fairly new compared to up north as in New York and Maryland where they have been playing for decades.

I will never give up this blog as even with all the negativity of yesterdays game - I still walked away feeling positive that our team/families and most important our coaches showed class. That is what is most important here. I am excited to watch my oldest son, Patrick, coach his JV squad in today’s game. There are blessings out there everyday, it’s just up to you to find them. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

What does a wheelchair and an ATM have in common - me.

2011-02-28T10:27:00.002-05:00

Have you ever tried to help someone and it back fired badly? I have wanted to find this person from Missouri to say sorry for so long.

It was before my second son and daughter were born when living in Missouri that one faithful day, my life had changed. Coming from New York, Billy and I were bagel “snobs” and finding a good bagel became a challenge. We had found a small bagel shop about forty minutes south of our house, that came close to a good bagel. The only problem was that this bagel store was not in the best area. We didn’t care about that as coming from New York we were never intimated going into any neighborhood. One day, I packed up Patrick who was probably around one and half, and made the trip down to get bagels for the week. It was early in the morning and I got my bagels and a cup of coffee. I was coming out of the store and was putting Patrick into the van. In the corner of my eye, I could see this man in a wheelchair approaching me with what seemed to be a coffee cup. He was raising his cup in air while rolling closer to me. I remember vividly that I did not have any dollar bills or change to give him and truly felt bad. I made eye contact and with a sorrowful face said “I can’t help you.” He still was rolling closer and now was waving his cup higher and pointing to his cup. I was at that point getting nervous and then thought, what could he do to hurt me?

I then quickly got into the van with the window up as he was in front of my van still waving. I went to lower my window to say, please move when he calmly said “you left your coffee cup on top of your roof.” He then proceeded to turn and roll away. Ugh. I seriously opened my door, got my coffee cup off the roof, tried to say thank you but at that point, he was down the street. I’ve never forgotten that man or what happened that day to make me realize that things sometimes aren’t what they seem. To this day, I never, never judge someone based on their circumstances and nether should you.

Well, it came back to haunt me nineteen years later. It was just this past week when I was driving up to the ATM at Bank of America. The car in front of me had it’s break lights on so I became worried that this person would go backwards and hit me. I was a bit farther behind so I would not get hit and gently (yes, gently) tapped my horn to say, please don’t hit me. Well, this car almost immediately went in gear and drove off. I didn’t think anything of it and was glad that the car didn’t go backwards. When I was facing the front of the ATM, it was beeping “do you need more time to complete your transaction?” I thought, what the heck? I hit no and then the persons’ ATM card spit out. I can see the car taking off down the road so I took it and took off to get it back to that person.

I saw that persons car make a left on a back road so I thought this is not going to be a big deal to get along side of them to return their card. As I started to speed up, they started to speed up. I then got close enough to hang my hand out my window holding their card and I started to scream “hey - you left your ATM card in the machine!” I guess that made them scared as they took off. We went down three or four blocks when the car made a right and flew down the next street. I made the turn and sped up but to avail as they went through the light and made a left. I made the left still screaming - “wait - wait - I have your card!” I then saw the car went into a sub division and I went too. I half expected to see a cop car behind me at this point. I saw that the car pulled into a driveway and the garage door went up. I thought, please don’t make me get out and go the front door. I parked my car on the opposite side of the street to see this woman slowly get out of her car. I calmly said “you left your card in the machine and I wanted to get it back to you.” She looked horrified and embarrassed. She walked over and said “oh I am so sorry, I didn’t understand why you were ‘chasing’ after me.” She thanked me and I was on my way. I did get a bit upset that I was just trying to help her. I could have emptied her account and instead I ran after her to give her back her card. I was just trying to help! Ugh, so was that man in the wheelchair nineteen years ago. You’re never too old to learn your lesson and sometimes it comes back at you when you least expect it. Life is funny, isn’t it? Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time!

Funeral home funny? Fortunately it was for us.

2011-02-22T08:40:00.000-05:00

It is coming up to eight years and one month (but who’s counting) that my Mom has passed away. I guess you never forget what you were doing when you get that phone call to inform you that your mother who was alive one day is gone the next. Going through the roller coaster of circumstances surrounding my Father-in-law’s illness (who thankfully is recovering slowly,) that phone call was a mix blessing. You always think you are prepared for a loved one to leave you - but you’re not. When my sister called me that Friday at 4:43pm, I was sitting at my dining room table, writing up a listing agreement for a one bedroom condo in Coral Springs. I picked up the phone and heard my sister say “Mom’s gone - she died.” I sat there shocked and looked up at my husband Bill and couldn’t speak. As God was so good, got the first flight out the very next day. My sister met me at the airport and we grabbed each other and just wept in the middle of walkway. Funny how you just don’t care about the people around you. Then came the inevitable. Funeral arrangements.

My mother was smart enough to plan ahead. We immediately went to the local funeral home - you know that funeral home, the one who is on the bottom of the calendar you get every year from church. My Mom’s wish was to be cremated and no wake. Thank God. Went to enough of them growing up. At this point, my head is numb (not because the weather at the time was 15 degrees) and spinning. I can remember Susan and I walking into a hallway and sitting outside an office. It felt more like going to the principals office rather meeting with a funeral director. What seemed like forever, a man comes out and says “come on in.” A bit too happy for my taste considering we’re here to make arrangements for my mothers remains.

My sister sits closer to the wall and I’m sitting next to her while the man who doesn’t introduce himself, sits on the other side of the desk. He asks “what can I do for you.” I wanted to say so bad - “a vodka tonic sounds good to me right about now,” but I kept that to myself. As Susan was starting to talk about how my mom had died, it really started to become a reality. Well, I started to sob. Sob like the ugly cry that Oprah talks about. Tears streaming down my face and a ton of snot right behind it. At this point, Susan is now trying to calm me down by holding my hand and telling me it’s ok. Seriously, the man behind the desk never even offered me let alone my sister a tissue. That did not go unnoticed. As I wiped my nose and face on my black leather jacket, Susan looked over and smile. It was ridiculous at this point, the man behind the desk just kept trying to sell us more and more things that my Mom was just not interested in. We could tell that the man behind desk was not happy with us. All he kept saying was, “just sign here.” Being in Real Estate, I read everything and that he did not like. I must have stopped three or four times to say, no - we are not paying for that or that or that. Again, more tears and snot and again - no tissue. Coming to the end of the meeting, and finally signing off on the final paperwork, I could not stop myself asking, “Um…how long are you in the business?” Seriously thinking it had to be only a few days or weeks, he calmly says “twenty five years.” I thought I was going to choke. At that point, Susan and I exchange looks and just started to laugh. Twenty five years? Are you kidding me? Simon Cowell is a angel compared to this guy.

I was going to get up to leave and I happen to look up at a wooden shelf on the wall and see those beautiful urns like the Veterans flag frame/urn as well as some beautiful pottery ones. It suddenly occurred to me that we never talked about what urn my Mom was to be put in. I turned to the man behind the desk and asked “we didn’t pick out an urn for my Mom.” He then said, no pun intended, dead pan “oh, she’ll be in what is like a coffee tin.” What? A coffee tin? At that point, yes, he pulls what had to be a Folgers coffee tin from behind those beautiful urns and says, “something like this.”

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse. It does. We started to laugh, what could you do at that point. Funny how God works in situations. The absurdity of the situation made us laugh. When we got up to leave, Susan looked at the man behind the desk, who never came around to console us in any way, says “do you know you never even gave us your condolences on the passing of our mother.” He then says, “I thought you knew.” Oh at this point, we are laughing walking out the door and sadly, there was a family waiting in the hall. They look at us with a perplexed look and we turn and say - “our Mom died, isn’t that hysterical?” Maybe that wasn’t what we were suppose to say but God was so good to lift our spirits and give us something to smile about. Truly funny how God steps in just when you need Him most. As in the last blog, God had His hands on everything that week and the blessings that came out were unbelievable. Death is no laughing matter, but when things happen to make you laugh when you didn’t think you could, it’s ok. Now when I look back at that day, it doesn’t make me sad, but it makes me smile that God made it so funny for my sister and me. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time. Miss you Mom.

It’s ok to laugh - really - it’s ok. Part 2 of the road trip to NYC.

2011-02-07T11:38:00.000-05:00

Let me start off by saying that I met my future husband when I was only seventeen and he was nineteen. We had lived north of New York City and I never really went into the city because back then, it really was not a great place to visit. Billy (husband) went into the city all the time and started to bring me with him as well. I fell in love with the diverse people, places and things to do. Nothing was better than taking the Harlem/Hudson line train ride into Grand Central Station. Seeing the musicians play with their instrument cases open for tips (I always tipped by the way!) and the people running to their next stop in the city, was such a common site. The city has always been a soft spot in my heart and Billy knows that. Even with all the snow and horrible weather up north - I miss Manhattan.

After leaving his dad in the hospital and his mom back at her house, we ventured down into Westchester. Growing up there, we went around different towns to talk about when we were kids and what places we loved going to. Well, we were exhausted, physically, emotionally and spiritually and knew we needed a place to crash. Being blessed with great family I text messaged my cousin and she did not think twice and told us to come to her house. Blessing number five. She said she didn’t want to kill us with her cooking so we ordered pizza which was great for us because there is no better pizza than in New York. We got there and immediately I could see Billy relaxing and just enjoying the loud conversations we were having. My cousins family welcomed us and treated us like family should be treated. We laughed about old times and enjoyed looking at old photos. Drank wine and sat in front of the fireplace. Looking back at that night it truly warms my heart (no pun intended.) We knew we were going to try to go into Manhattan the next morning so we said our “good-byes” and went to bed. Got up early, a bit fuzzy (how much wine did we drink?) and ventured out. The roads were fine and we got into Manhattan and started driving around.

As we were coming into the city, I could feel tears forming in my eyes and Billy asked why I was crying. I am sure it was just the emotion of being in the city again, with my husband, in the winter time and feeling a bit guilty that I was starting to feel happy. I truly thought, I shouldn’t feel this way knowing that Billy’s dad was still in hospital. Then I thought, this is God putting some happiness in our lives. As soon as we got into the city, everything fell into place. We had made the decision to try to find a hotel, parking and try to keep it within a reasonable price. Well, we did. Ok - the hotel was a bit sketchy but the parking was priced right, we got to check-in early and off we went into the city. Blessing number six! God bless adrenaline. Boots on and Billy leading the way, off we went into Times Square. Yes, I saw the “Naked Cowboy” and my life is now complete. Dang camera needed batteries so I didn’t get a picture. One of the things that I would request was that Billy NOT tell me how many blocks we would have to walk to get to our next destination. Who wants to know that you have thirteen blocks north and five blocks west. So we walked, and walked and who cares - I’m in New York City again! We got to St. Patrick’s Cathedral and again, here came the tears. That church holds a special place in our hearts as that was our first date (St. Patrick’s day parade,) and I told him I was pregnant with our first born there who we named after St. Patrick. I was so overwhelmed with joy, gratitude and happiness. I think I even saw Billy tear up a bit. Blessing number seven. I would picture in my head going back to Manhattan and this was exactly what it would look like. I always asked God to bring me back and I knew it was going to be His way, not mine. We then walked to Grand Central station, Rockefellers Center, and the place that we love the most - Central Park.

This picture has been in my mind for many, many years and now I was seeing it in person! I truly believed that one day I would see this with Billy and I did!

The rest of the day was great. Then the coolest thing of all was a few weeks back, my friends on Twitter were trying to get together in the city. Twitter is not like Facebook where you can see pictures of the person you are talking to, rather it has basically one picture and a small bio. I had thought in my mind, how I wish I could go but seriously thought there would be no way. God laughs again. Blessing number eight. I found out where they were meeting at this neat pub near our hotel and off we went to wait for them. I was so excited and kept thinking, I can’t believe I am going to meet these people who have kept my spirits up, who enjoy reading my blog and just genuinely great people. The funny thing is, you know these people by a picture and not necessarily there face but an image, so I couldn’t just point someone out if they were right in front of me! Billy and I got there early and again tears were in my eyes because of the peace and just fun time we were having BEFORE they even got there. Then a slew of people came in and started going up to the third floor of this pub. I said to the bartender, “wish we were invited to that party.” She said it was a private party and just when I thought I wasn’t going to meet my friends, I get this text message to come up to the third floor where everyone is waiting! Blessing number nine! I still laugh as Billy and I anxiously start to go up the stairs knowing that even though I love these people online, I really don’t have a clue what everyone looks like. We enter the room and people start to look over at us and now I'm deathly afraid that we are in the wrong room! Then I heard the first of many screams of delight from a friend whom I met on Twitter come over to me with a big hug. More screams, more hugs. I had no idea how great everyone looked in person! Everyone was so welcoming. Even more so, everyone who knew why we were in New York, asked how Billy’s dad was doing. We were so touched by that. Below is a collage of the people I met that night. You can see by the huge smiles it was a successful evening.

We laughed and laughed till the wee hours. We walked back to the hotel and never did I think that night was possible. Was happy that Billy had a good time considering, he really did not know anyone, yet, they brought him into “the family!” The night was a perfect ending to a trip that was filled with so many ups and downs. It was great to see Billy having a good time and not feel bad about doing so. Big blessing number ten. Lessons learned from the trip, sometimes things go the way that you don’t expect them to go but, you are happy that they ended up that way. Dream those dreams as you never know, they just might come true. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Put it on the calendar - don’t bother - God has other plans.

2011-02-01T10:51:00.001-05:00

As I sit here writing today I have in front of me our calendar that is on the kitchen wall. In January for instance, there were projects due, schedule for the kids, a friends wedding, a sweet sixteen party, a charity walk and other events that I wanted to make sure we attend. I would love to consider myself a well organized person who writes things down in order to get things done. How many of you have the same calendar on your wall right now. It helps, right? Well, not this time.

January was going along as we got news my father-in-law had fallen and needed hip surgery. Being an older gentleman, we knew of the risks that come with that type of surgery. I can not tell you how frustrating it is to be in another state while a family member is going through surgery and you can’t be there. Most family members believe that we are void of the situation and we are some how less involved or don’t care as much. So we sit and wait for the phone call that says everything is ok and sigh with relief that it’s over. That did not happen. Unfortunately, the surgery was a success but my father-in-law had trouble after. A lot of trouble. My mother-in-law would call us and say that he was getting worse and that they needed to help him breath. Every time (husband) Bills cell phone rang, we held our breath. At one point, his mom flat out said, you need to come up here now. Bill looked at me and said we better rent a car and drive up now. Ok? What about all the things on the calendar? I have to cancel things, make arrangements and are we really leaving the kids alone! Albeit they are almost twenty, seventeen and fifteen respectfully and all the friends and family near by said that they’ll check-in on them, that alone made us feel better about going.

Not a coincidence, my van was being worked on and the garage felt bad it was taking so long to fix, they rented us a van to use for the weekend. I was calling for a “reasonable” midsize car and just got the run around. When I was picked up to get the rental van, the rental company said they would be able to get me a midsize car and beat all the other rental companies prices. At this point, I just needed a car. Monday came and we found out that the weather up north was awful. Snow and more snow was the forecast. When I went to drop off the van and pick up the new rental, it was taking too long. The nice salesman who said he would “hook me up” was not there. Now I was in tears as the car I was promised was gone, new fees were going to be tact on and all I knew was that we needed to get on the road. With tears in my eyes, another salesman saw me and said privately, “just take this van, we’ll charge you what you were originally promised, no other fees.” I was concerned about the miles per gallon on the van and he assured me that the other car we were going to get would have gotten the same. This I was going to recognize as blessing number one. Big and roomy to put all our stuff, like heavy coats, a couple of blankets my pillow and of course, our lacrosse sticks (to play at the rest stops!)

We get on the road and find out that his dad is doing a bit better. I felt that God was letting him hold on until Bill could get there. Knowing we were going to drive through the night, I drove first. (Hate driving at night.) It was like the parting of the Red Sea. No trucks, no traffic, no bad weather - clear roads for me. Seven hours later - somewhere in Georgia, got cheap gas and it was Bills turn to drive. Same thing, clear sailing. Blessing number two.

God bless New Jersey. Here was the snow, a ton of traffic and the bridges. Prayed for patience and Bill said that he was hungry and where should we stop. There is a diner in Tarrytown, New York, over the Tappan Zee bridge we loved going to while we lived in New York. So there we went. Blessing number three. It was good to sit and relax after the eighteen hour drive. We then headed up to upstate New York where Bills dad was and that part of the drive took a while. We had time to talk. I tried to prepare him for what he might see, as he had never been this type of situation seeing your parent so weak and helpless.

We got there, picked up his mom and it was sweet to see her hug her “baby” and just be happy. We headed over to the hospital, and no preparing could help Bill for what he saw. It broke my heart. I had really thought, this is it. We stayed for quite a while. That night, his mom took us out for a lovely dinner and we talked. It was a great spot with a big fireplace (don’t have those in Florida) and I could see Bill relaxing a bit. Over the next couple of days, it was a roller coaster. Times his dad looked good and was trying to talk, other times, it was bad, really bad. They had gotten Bills dad stable enough that it looked like he was going to make it and we knew it was time for us to go. Blessing number four. We had made the choice to take a detour to go back to the “old neighborhoods” and reminisce. What happened next could only be described as “ask and you shall will receive!” Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Great Expectations Part 2 - (Waving goodbye to your 1st born off to college, turning around and he's back in the house? WTH?)

2011-01-18T10:39:00.001-05:00

Picture this. I am standing on top of a large crate, megaphone in hand, clearing my throat. “Listen to me, I know what I am talking about!” Got it? Good. Let me start off with the fact that no mother can love their son more than I do. The expectations of the first born are always extremely high. You want the best for your child and you are thrilled with every accomplishment along the way. This is no different. I can honestly say, Patrick (oldest son) and I had the best time going to colleges to see if any would be of interest to him to attend. Of course, they all (or most) make it sound so great, who wouldn't want to go there. Quite a few things happened Patrick’s senior year of high school which lead him to a wonderful school about 100 miles away from our home. I loved the idea that it was only an hour and fifty minute drive. Far enough away to be away, but closest enough to come home if necessary.

The time leading up to Patrick going away to school was a not a great memory. There was a ton of tension and I’m sure anxiety on all parts of the family. I truly believe that it made it less “sorrowful” as when we were dropping him off, it felt like it was the right time to do so. Please don’t get me wrong, my heart ached to be dropping off “my baby” at college. Patrick on the other hand seemed to be handling it better (so I thought.) We were saying goodbye in his dorm room, and it hurt to hold back the tears as Patrick kept saying “don’t cry in front of my roommates!” All we said back was “have fun and do good at school.” We got to the car and I remember looking into Patrick’s living room window and thinking, he can’t see me cry - so I was just smiling back, screaming at my husband to pull out of the parking space so I can start crying. Which I did, for the hour and fifty minute drive home. Poor Bill.

That first semester, we would call and Patrick seemed to be happy. Everything seemed to going well, but, as a parent/mother you know your child. I could sense something was going on. I immediately turned to my friends who had college kids. My friends were my support, rock and sounding board. They would tell me things that I was not happy hearing. They would say, “maybe being away is not good for Patrick, maybe he has too many freedoms that are hard for him to handle.“ I then choose to not take their advise because that’s not going to happen to my kid. How many times have you said that? You want the best college experience for your child, and you send them off with the hope that they will go, soar and be involved in school so what horrible things could go wrong. Well, things happen.

After the year was over, we all sat down and realized that it wasn’t as glorious as WE wanted it to be for Patrick. He had made the decision to come home. It was a decision that at first, I felt that I had failed him somehow. What did I do wrong. I had friends who told me they were envious of having my son come home, yet I felt different. It is very difficult having your college son come home and reintroduce him back into the home. He will always be your son but for a year, the house was down to four. Rooms got changed around. It was a total adjustment. The first rule we said is that our home is not a dorm. That went over well….. Second, there are rules in the house, that too, didn’t go over well. I kept going back to what my friends were saying to me months (years) back and asking myself, why didn’t I just listen to them. The pain or confusion would have been easier! Why did I let my pride stand out first instead of understanding arms to reach out to my son? I kept looking at the negative in the situation instead of the positive which was, he made the mature decision to come home, continue college, get a job and help out in the house.

OK, now I get it. I just wish I got it long time ago. It’s OK to be disappointed, have your pity party, but get over it! Don’t let it consume you as it did me. I’m proud of my son and knowing that we’re going to go through this again next year with my other son - somehow I feel a bit more prepared. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

Patrick and I at his high school graduation. Of course, I'm crying.

Great expectations equals WTH (What The Heck) outcomes.

2011-01-10T09:45:00.000-05:00

True story. Our expectations at the time of the birth of our second son was God has blessed us with two healthy boys and we were done. I was working as a water aerobic instructor at the time and life was going along swimmingly (no pun intended.) I noticed I gained four pounds and I was going to work out my class so that we all lose those four pounds. What I didn't know was that I was nine weeks pregnant! It was a shock as it was difficult to conceive our second son with months of disappointing results until I did finally became pregnant, so this was a big surprise. In private I questioned God - why. Why now and why did I have to go through what I went through to get our second son. Looking back, I don’t think I handled the situation well and vowed to learn from it.

I had gone to doctors and it was the day of the sonogram. My husband (Bill) did NOT want to know the sex of the baby and me being the control freak absolutely wanted to know. That visit, the doctor said she was sorry but the way the baby was laying, she could not tell. I had gone to several visits where the doctor had given me sonograms and one day, she said (and I quote) “I am 98 % sure you are going to have another boy.” To be honest, the legs were not “spread eagle” where it would have been obvious but I’m not a doctor so I believed her. I felt bad for Bill as he kept saying he wanted a little girl and I was saying to myself, “sorry but it’s little “Joseph Anthony.”

Months went by and it was time to go to the hospital. I was in labor and my doctor had said it was OK to push. One push - out came the head. The doctor then said “She is so beautiful!” She? What? It’s only a head. Bill was so excited. I was so mad that the doctor would lead him on like that. Push number 2, shoulders out. Again with the “she is coming quickly!” At this point, I am staring back over the sheet and saying “um....doctor....what are you talking about?” Then I pushed a couple of times more and push number six - out the baby came. The doctor beamed as the cord was still attached and she took the baby upside down and said “it’s a girl!” Bill was flying around the room ecstatic with tears of joy and everyone was smiling and laughing but me. I calmly said “no it’s not, you better find a pee pee and find it now.” I expected “Joseph Anthony” and out came Maria Jean! Truly I was shocked (again.) Please don’t get me wrong, she was beautiful and healthy and what more could I want but, having two boys already, boys clothes, Tonka trucks, you get the picture. I was holding Maria and I said to her “I don’t have anything pink at home, no Barbie dolls or ribbons and I have no idea how to take care of a baby girl!” She just smiled back and I knew it was going to be OK. It was a learning process those first few weeks and I now know why God blessed me with her as there is no better feeling than seeing your daughter grow into a beautiful young woman, that and we love to go shopping together! I love when people say we look alike as in the picture below which was taken three years ago!

This was my high school graduation picture and I had Maria hold it up to her face and I said, “I’ve got to take this picture.” I’m glad I did and I treasure it. Next blog, the expectation of your first born off to college. Boy I wish someone would have told me………. Ton o’ blessings to you until next time!

This season is over - now what.

2011-01-03T08:33:00.001-05:00

When we lived in Missouri, I was asked to become a water aerobic instructor and thought: this is what I am going to do for the rest of my life. I loved it! I would say all the time, “I don’t know what I would do if I didn't get paid to exercise!” I met the most wonderful people and really did see them transform before my eyes. What a wonderful feeling to know you helped someone achieve their goals. When we moved to Florida, I jumped at the chance to teach water aerobics in several different locations throughout the area. I was noticing that it wasn't as much fun as I wanted it to be. I remember one time, I was asked to do water walking at a very elite country club twice a week. The pay was great for only a couple of hours of work. But when I got there, I was met with these stuck up women who wanted me to strap on their water-belts for them, play music they wanted to hear and have their towels ready when they were done. Being the trooper I was, I thought that this is going to be a challenge and I’m up for it! Think again. I lasted only 4 classes and told the director, “good luck with these ladies, I’m outta here.” I was always brought up to, not give up, don’t quit and don’t rock the boat. I remember thinking, I can make this fun again and Lord knows I tried.

I got to work one day and I put my toe in the water and I would swear it was like putting it in battery acid. I was so repulsed by it. I went home that day and cried. I had spoken to my sister who said that “maybe your season with teaching is over.” Her words puzzled me but when I really thought about it, she was right. I had to give myself permission to let go of teaching water aerobics and move on to the next chapter of my life. It is so scary to say out loud what you want to do in fear that someone will make fun or discourage you. Have you had that happen? Easier to not try and go on status quo? That’s sad.

My friend Jo asked me if I wanted to become her assistant in her real estate office. I thought that would be great until she said I had to go get my license first. No problem, I thought. After the second night of class, it was clear - I’m in this for me. Sorry Jo, I’m doing this to become a Real Estate agent. I did end up in her office as her fellow agent, not her assistant. I loved real estate in helping people buy or sell their property. Yes, people are funny, strange, rude, wonderful and most of the time - it is all that wrapped up in one. But, recently I am having the toe in the water feeling and even though I would never give up my license, I have decided to go another route and work with Jo and pursue my dream of writing. It is the scariest feeling to say it out loud but also the most exhilarating feeling to put it out there and try. Yes - try.

Please, as this new year is upon us, try. Try to become the person you want to be. Try new things that you thought were unattainable. Try to get out of your box. Yes, there will be times that you fail, but isn’t it those times we learn from and move forward? Don’t listen to naysayer’s, they're to scared to try and they don’t want you to succeed. Don’t call that person who makes you feel guilty because you are trying something new, they’ll bring you down too. Go out there today, yes today and try something new. I would love to hear what you did as I would consider it a huge miracle/blessing to me! Ton o’ blessings to you until next time!

Be careful what you ask for……BANG! Dang.

2010-12-28T09:44:00.001-05:00

I was out with my daughter Maria yesterday driving along the road and started talking about what has happened during this year. Not specific topics but the year in general. She said “you know this year for us was just making it.” “Just making it?” Wow. Who would want that. She was right unfortunately and we both agreed that next year would be our year. “Great things are going to happen to the family and us individually!“ she said and I believe her. Made me think about how powerful your thoughts and words can be.

You ever use catch phrases like, “I’m as serious as a heart attack,” “if I’m lying, I’m dying” or “just shoot me!” We all do it. We don’t think anything of them. There are a ton of those phrases we use all the time, every day. I know I never thought about how many times I would say “just shoot me” in reference to being frustrated or upset. Well, three years ago while my son Patrick and I were driving through my friends upscale sub-division, there were these two young kids hanging out in front of one of their houses. Of course I was talking and I’m noticing that Patrick is not paying attention (no shock there) but I was looking ahead to the road, when all of a sudden I heard “BANG!” Patrick yelled that one of the kids had a BB gun and took a shot at my car. As God is good, it only hit the back window of my van which thankfully no one was sitting there. I threw the car in reverse and parked it in front of the kids house and screamed for Patrick to call 911. I knocked at the door and the kid answers and I say as calmly as possible - “why did you just shoot at me?” I’ll never forget that day or moment when I thought to myself, I’m always saying “just shoot me” and someone did! Think about it. The thought of being shot at is so slim to none given where I live (thankfully) that who would ever think that one day I would be shot at. Be careful what you say - you just might get it!

I had a conversation recently with a friend that I was so distracted by how many times I heard the word miserable, dejected, depressed that I really couldn’t tell you exactly what the conversation was all about. I know that sounds horrible but how else could a person feel when the words you choose dictates how you WILL feel.

When we were on the Oprah show (see previous blog) Dr. Phil was saying to another guest that her words were like knife blades cutting through to her heart. She told him it was the first Christmas without her kids and she knows she will be heart broken, devastated and despondent. And he said - yes you will be. He was not making fun but told her to look forward to the times she would be with her kids to make that time the best, most memorable time in her life. To look for something positive rather than something negative. Ironically - it was him helping her that changed my life, not the advise he gave us!

I really do think about what I say before I say it as your words are very powerful. To this day, I have not been shot at again…whew. Ton o’ blessings to you until next time…………….

A dryer sheet, a cat, a Vet and the eleventh hour reprieve.

2010-12-21T09:25:00.002-05:00

I came home from work to find my daughter in tears that our cat, Quinnie (real name) had eaten a dryer sheet. She said that she was able to get “most” of it out of her mouth but not all of it. I figured, it’s a cat - it’ll survive. A day or two goes by and the cat is not eating. Now I am getting nervous and decide to go to one of the local pet stores that have veterinarian services in the back to see what product I could buy to “push” that dryer sheet along. The very nice assistant tells me that if the cat has not “pooped” it could be serious. I tell her, of course she has pooped (not really knowing if she has or not) and isn’t there a kitty enema I could buy? She says - “do you really think you could give your cat an enema?” Good point. She told me to watch the cat and I should really go to my Vet and have her checked out. Only problem - I had no Vet. She suggested a animal hospital down the road that she would call first to let them know that I was going to go home and get my cat. She said that they were really nice and that they would help.

Never really bringing the cat out of the house for anything, this was going to prove harder than I thought. We had no travel container so I got a large hamper and my husband and I put the cat in there with a towel over it. If anyone knows that horrible cat screeching noise that they make - it goes right through you! We were going down the road and I saw an animal hospital and told my husband to pull over. I got out and ran inside to ask if anyone had called them about my cat. I was greeted with a nasty “you have to wait your turn.” There was no one in front of me or at the counter so I was like - ok? I politely asked if anyone had called about the cat who ate the dryer sheet and if someone could help me. She looked at me like I had three heads and told me to sit down and she would get to me in a minute. I knew this was NOT the hospital I was supposed to be at. I turned around and said that I was in the wrong place and left. Three blocks down there was another hospital and I ran in asking if anyone had called about a cat and a dryer sheet. The very nice person behind the counter thought it was the start of a joke until she saw that I wasn’t laughing. She said no, but that, of course they would help me out. I got my husband and the cat and they were the absolute nicest, most caring people that I have ever met. They told me they would keep the cat over night and get back to us.

The next day we got the call to come in. Unfortunately, the dryer sheet was blocked in the intestines and she would require surgery to remove it. This was five days before Christmas. This was also thee worst year for us. The surgery was over three thousand dollars. We were devastated. Knowing right then and there we could not afford to have the surgery, we made the decision to put the cat down. My husband had put down, in his childhood, two dogs and knew the pain that came with that decision. The next heart wrenching decision was to tell the kids that the cat would not be with us anymore. I had come in to say “goodbye” to the cat and started to cry. I tried to stay with the cat as long as I could. They were all hoping that something could be done. I thanked them for being so kind to me and my cat and left. The cat was to be put down at three o’clock in the afternoon. I told my husband to be there with her toy. I told him, do NOT call me when it’s done. I had called my family and closest friends and we all just cried. Then my cell phone rang at two forty five and it was my husband. I immediately thought “why can’t husbands just do what they are told?!?!”

I answered the phone yelling at him “why are you calling, I told you not to call, I didn’t want to know when they were doing it….” He as calmly as he could, said “ they didn’t put her down.” I said “what?” He said “if you would shut up for a minute, the Veterinarian (who is also the owner) said that he couldn’t do it.” Said that he would volunteer his services as well as the other people in the operating room would volunteer their services. Now in front of me is my young daughter Maria, who is still crying and I am trying to tell her that everything is going to be ok and that Quinnie is gonna live!!! The cat had the surgery and pulled through just fine. She came home Christmas eve day.

After the surgery, my son Matthew for his eighth grade project started the “Quinnie Foundation.” We raised over eight hundred dollars to be used for people who could not afford food or medical supplies for their animals at the hospital. That was three years ago and the cat is still going strong today and we will forever be grateful that on that day - someone cared enough to save our Quinnie. That hospital and everyone in there will forever be our Christmas angels. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

The day we brought Quinnie home Christmas Eve.

Do you believe in Miracles? - No it’s not the 1980 USA Hockey Team story, it’s mine.

2010-12-14T14:04:00.002-05:00

How many of you really believe in miracles? I mean really believe in miracles. How many of you want a miracle and feel silly asking for one. But this is based on real life miracles. Why are you afraid to ask for a miracle, afraid it won’t happen or if it happens would you believe it was just a coincidence? There are no coincidences my friend.

It’s the holiday season and for so many people this time of the year it ……sucks. You don’t live up to the expectations of others or you are not as happy or joyful and you’d rather not be out there at all. Why? You really are control of your own emotions. You dictate how you feel. It is such an easy spiral downward if you let it. One sad, angry, emotional thought becomes two thoughts and then you ask yourself - how am I going to get out of this?

What miracle would you ask for right now. I’ll wait……..go ahead, just ask. Do you think it’s too big? Think about the whole world, and all the people in it. My mother used to say “put your problems in a hat, and you’d still want to pick your own out.” I never believed that until I got older and saw what problems are out there. Sometimes it gets to me, that I am complaining? You know someone, right now who is suffering, physically, emotionally, financially or spiritually? Why not direct your thoughts for them. Direct positive prayer, positive energy towards that person or their family. You have power right now that you are not using.

I am so thankful for the daily miracles that happen to me and my family each and every day. Today a miracle happened to me and while I am holding it close to my heart, and someone might not see it as a miracle - I do. Isn’t that what it’s all about. Finding the good in all situations, and choosing to be thankful not ungrateful. Choose something to call a miracle today. Who cares if someone doesn’t think it’s a miracle - you think it is - THEN IT IS!

My Christmas wish is to see your miracles posted on my blog. Leave it anonymously if you want. You reading this is my miracle - yes you are a miracle to me. Ton o’ blessings AND miracles to you until next time. Love you my snow angel.

Don’t judge a suit by it’s outsides - ya neva know what’s on the inside.

2010-12-11T11:21:00.001-05:00

Keeping with holiday spirit and that it is definitely better to give than receive, I am reminded of a special woman named *Claire from Missouri.

After a few years living in Missouri and becoming more active in my church, I decided to join different clubs. I loved going to church (still do!) and fondly remember the people that I would see every Saturday night. I enjoyed those that really got dressed up for church. I would admire this one woman who always wore nice suits and always presented herself beautifully. I would smile at her and always give a hearted hello as I was a greeter. She always just smiled back. I never took it as an insult that she never really stopped to talk but that she was shy or that she just wanted to get inside quickly.

I was asked if I wanted to volunteer for the Care Service organization. It was just beginning with a wonderful new building adjacent to the church that was more like a warehouse. It was stocked with canned goods as well as offices for people to go who were having a hard time making ends meet. I was more than thrilled to be apart of that group. I started volunteering Tuesday nights as that was the night for the food distribution. We had shopping carts set up for the people to get and wait on line. The local super markets would donate produce and meats that were about to expire instead of throwing all that food out.

It is bittersweet that you start to have “favorites” that come every week. One night, while the hustle and bustle of getting people in and out quickly, I noticed the woman who I see every Saturday night on line waiting for food. She was still dressed so nicely but had her head down. I immediately went over to help her and put my arm around her and asked her what her name was, she had said *Claire. Still not looking at me, I said “it’s ok, we are all here to help.” She barely smiled back. Over the next couple of months, every time I would see Claire in line, I would rush over to make sure I was the one to fill her shopping cart. Not that I would give her more food, but to make sure that I got to hug her and always whisper in her ear - “it will get better - trust God - it will get better.” She and I began a sort of friendship even though we only saw each other Tuesday nights. She then began to tell me what had happened. Her husband was laid off from his job making quite a lot of money and then went through their life savings just to keep the house a float. Looking at her, you would never know that her family was struggling. You would pass her on the street and think, wow- she must have it all by the way she dresses.

It was a few weeks before Christmas on that faithful Tuesday night that I saw Claire on line. This time, she had her head held high. She was actually looking for me! I ran over and we hugged as we did, and I saw she had tears in her eyes. She whispered, “this is my last night coming for food.” In a strange way, I was sad. She then said with a big smile “my husband got a wonderful job and we won’t need for me to come anymore!” I started to weep with joy for her. I loaded up her cart and walked her to her car. She told me “I never gave up because you were right - it did get better.” We hugged again and true to her word, she never came back.

Shortly after that time, I had made the decision to switch masses and I never did see her again. She always lives in my heart but especially this time of the season. You really don’t know what is behind that suit someone might be wearing - do you. Ton o’ blessings to ya until next time.

*Named changed to protect my friend.