Connecticut Mom

I'm blogging .... but at a new address :)

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 20:06:00 +0000

Hi ... yes, I'm at it again. But at a new location.

Please head on over to Connecticut Mom. All these posts are there, plus new stuff. Good stuff. Come on over and stay for a while.

My gift

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 24 Dec 2010 15:56:00 +0000

This has been a tough year. I'll admit, I'm really not in the holiday spirit, whatever that means these days. Our family experienced loss, transition, changes. Our Christmas Day gathering will be small, and loved ones will be missed.

Besides our family changes, my own life has been hectic. Crazy. Tiring. Work, managing the girls' schedules, managing my own. Trying to find time to spend with friends, keep in touch, not lose track. Thank goodness for Facebook and text, for those who have adopted 21st century technology. For those who haven't (and you know who you are), I'm trying. But time seems to just rush by ...

I'm looking around the house today. The dining room is stacked with items for tomorrow's dinner. My office is stuffed with shopping bags, random shoes scattered on the floor, clothes piled up, boxes of paper to still be sorted. I didn't finish the work I wanted to before the holiday. I was up and out of the house by 7:15 this morning, to finish the gift shopping I couldn't get done before today.

It took us a week to get our tree up and decorated. I would like for the girls to have better memories of our holidays, instead of our random approach to things. I envy those families with their set traditions, things that they can count on. We've had a few years where our holidays were more predictable, but times are changing.

So as I was driving home from the mall this morning (the early bird gets the parking spaces and misses the crowds, by the way), I decided that the best gift I could give myself this year was this:

Accept the imperfection.

I'm not Martha Stewart. Our holidays are messy.
Did we get the tree up? Yes.
Are we baking cookies today? Yes.
Will the girls be surprised and happy on Christmas morning? Yes.

The rest really doesn't matter.

~Merry Christmas ~

~ Peace and Joy ~

Random Acts

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 02:31:00 +0000

I've been involved with music all my life. It's what lights me up, keeps me going during the day, makes me smile, makes me cry, but always fulfills me no matter what is happening in my life. I've sung with The Hartford Chorale for almost 20 years, and my favorite performances have been when we've done Handel's Messiah over the holidays. Rehearsals always leave me energized and humming the music, even the more somber pieces.

I participated in my 13th performance of Messiah this past weekend. Performing with an orchestra, 160+ voices strong, to a warm and grateful audience is enough to make my holiday season.

But I think I've topped that experience. Today, I was a part of a huge flash mob performance of the Hallelujah Chorus at our local mall. A large crowd gathered at 3:00 pm, and with the flourish of a trumpet, we were off, raising our voices to a surprised and appreciative audience. So, without further ado, I give you the Hallelujah Chorus, flash mob style:

Horses, riding, and other reasons why I need to stretch

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 01:17:00 +0000

As you know, I started riding lessons about 18 months ago. I went from a timid rider who barely posted to a trot, to now cantering on my favorite polo pony Frederica, who I will be leasing over the holidays. Riding has given me a new confidence. I haven't fallen yet, but I'm sure I'm due. As they say, it takes three falls to be a true rider. I guess I'm not even close.

I ride twice a week, for an hour on Wednesdays and a half hour on Fridays. All that riding has given me a strong legs but I'm usually sore for a couple of days afterwards. I'd just sit on the couch, say "ow ow ow" when I tried to walk, but otherwise wouldn't do anything about it.

Then a good friend of mine, after hearing me whine about my sore muscles for the hundredth time, finally said: "Why don't you stretch?"

Hmm. Why don't I stretch? I didn't even think of that. So I started slowly. I couldn't believe how much flexibility I'd lost over the last few months. But as I began to regain my flexibility, I realized how much less sore I was after each lesson. Less soreness, less whining. Win win for everyone.

Stretching. Who knew?

Oh, and the ribbons and trophy above? I won those in October - a first, a second, and class champion. After my performance last year, I never expected to do so well.

And yes, I stretched afterwards. Ahhhh.

What I'm thankful for ...

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 05:57:00 +0000

This year has not been the best. A lot of ups and downs. Loss of a close family member. Incredible work and personal stress. But despite everything, some things in my life remain constant, and that is what I'm grateful for:

A challenging full time job that allows me to work from home and be here when my family needs me ...

A 13 year old daughter who shares my interests, my jokes, and my smile ....

A 10 year old daughter whose innocence and heart of gold keeps me grounded every time she hugs me and kisses me on the cheek ...

A loving and gentle husband who's dealt with his own stress this year on top of mine, and yet still shows us every day what true strength and love really is ...

Good friends who remind me what is important in life, who lift me up when I'm down and kick me in the butt when I need it ...

A large and crazy family who reminds me where I came from and shows me what it means to take care of each other ....

And I am grateful for the person that I am becoming ... I've learned many life lessons this year. I've had my successes, I've made mistakes, and hopefully I've learned from them. Most importantly, I am grateful for the life I have and the life I share, and I hope that I will never forget that I am truly, truly blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

The girls

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 19 Nov 2010 23:30:00 +0000

I missed Princess' birthday post, and this post is early for Sweet Pea, but I wanted to be sure that they each had a post from me. So like the days when I used to combine their birthday parties into one big celebration, I am doing a combined birthday post for them now ...

Dear girls,

Where does the time go? I look at you, and see all the wonder the future holds for you. I see the children that you were, the kids you are now, and I am starting to glimpse the women you will become.

Princess -

You turned 13 last month. How did that happen? When did a round cheeked talkative kindergartner become a beautiful teenager full of ambition, dreaming of Broadway, singing her way through her day?

You've overcome so much in the past few years to be the confident young lady you are now. I know how much that straight A report card meant to you. I know how much courage it took to audition for Eastern CT regional chorus. I can see your self-esteem growing with each accomplishment, and my heart swells when I see the brightness in your brown eyes, the seeds of doubt lessening with each success. There will be days when things don't come as easily, so I hope you remember the times you made it, you did it, you reached your goal. And know that I am here, cheering you on.

And yes, I do think the braces will come off before you start high school.

Sweet Pea -

In two days you will be 10. Double digits. A tween.

Fifth grade suits you. I see you on the brink of the journey your sister has already started, yet still holding on to those childhood loves that will make you so happy.

Keep building those Lego towers.

Keep playing Club Penguin.

Keep giving me a hug and kiss good night.

I've stopped holding your hand, but I will always hold your heart.

And no matter how crazy it makes me, I promise not to cut your bangs so they can finish growing out.

I love you girls -

Love always,

Mom

I'm back

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 11:14:00 +0000

Did you miss me?

Yes, it's been a few months. Our family suffered a major loss this past summer, when CT Dad's sister passed away after a very long illness. She was my age, and left two teenagers. Her death plus all the work stress that was going on at the time literally sucked the creative inspiration right out of me. I just didn't have it in me to blog any more. I stepped away from blogging, including keeping up with my favorite bloggers who also became my virtual friends over the last couple of years. I haven't looked at my reader in months.

I am grateful to those who kept in touch with me via email or in person. I needed time and they were supportive and understanding. I thought about coming back on September 1, then October 1. So why now?

A couple of weeks back, a good friend asked me when I would start writing again. I'd missed blogging on Princess' 13th birthday. When my friend asked me about the post, I mentioned again how I just didn't have the creative inspiration in me. She responded, "You know, one of the best things about your blog is that it chronicles your family's life. Your girls can look back and see those stories and relive those memories. It's important to them. It's the story of your lives."

She's right. I'm back. Happy to see you all again.

A building does not define us

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 24 May 2010 01:22:00 +0000

I've just had the best weekend in a very long time. Lately I've been talking - well, whining, really - about all the changes going on in our family, how things I love are ending and how sad I am. This weekend I gained a whole new perspective ....

I went to a much beloved Catholic high school in the south end of Hartford. In the late 70's and early 80's, South Catholic was a state basketball powerhouse and had enrollment over 1100. South drew students from Hartford's south end and surrounding towns, with a strong Catholic and family tradition. My graduating class had almost 270 students, and I knew every single one. Many classmates had older and younger siblings, and those who attended in the early days sent their children. The South family was close knit, and it was sad to see enrollment dwindle in the late 80s, with attendance dipping to a fraction of what it used to be. Even so, the South tradition was strong, and we all thought South would survive.

In 1991, the Archdiocese of Hartford made the devastating announcement that South would be closed. I remember attending a standing room only meeting in the school auditorium, where the committee to save the school told us the terms: raise funds and increase enrollment, and the school would remain open. We rallied, as we always did, and both terms were met. That winter, South won the 1991 state basketball championship. Several days later, despite our community's heroic efforts, the Archdiocese announced that the decision was final: after the class of 1991 graduated, South would close forever. I still have the newspaper articles and final newsletter tucked into my yearbook. It felt like a death in the family, something precious was gone.

Yet a building does not define who we are. Those who walked those halls everyday were what South Catholic was all about. I never felt this more than last night, when I attended the All-Class Reunion at Northwest Catholic, which graciously hosted our community for this very special event. Over 500 strong attended, from classes spanning the 60's, 70's, and 80's, and early 90's, including those who would have graduated had South remained open. We shared stories about school uniforms and dress code violations, team rivalries, musical productions, beloved teachers, and those who were no longer with us. The reunion lasted well beyond the posted end time, with classes mingling, seeing old friends and making new ones. It's hard to put into words how special that night was, and how we all wished it wouldn't end.

So this afternoon, I watched my 9 year old and her friends sing the national anthem at a local minor league baseball game. As we were leaving, one of the moms asked me to email her a picture for the yearbook. A week ago, I would have had one of my sad, lump in the throat moments. But not today.

A building does not define us. It is the community, the friendships, the people who we carry with us as we move forward that make up who we are. That is the gift that my girls bring with them as they move on to the next school, the next adventure. South Catholic taught me that. I guess we never really stop learning.

A single flower

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sat, 08 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Earlier this week, Queen of Spain posted about the annual ritual at her preschool, where the moms whose last child is moving on to kindergarten gets to march in front of the school at their Mother's Day celebration and accept a single flower. She is dreading it.

I could use that flower.

In six weeks, Sweet Pea will leave her elementary school. Fourth grade will be over, and she will be moving on to the intermediate school. Our eight years at the school will be over. Princess entered kindergarten at our school in September, 2002, and Sweet Pea started there in preschool in 2004. In the last 10 days, I've attended Sweet Pea's school talent show, 4th grade chorus concert, spring academic fair, and Special Person's day. Each event, a teacher or the principal mentioning the fact that this is the 4th grade's last time. How much they will be missed. I look at those faces, at my daughter's smile, and I can barely hold it together.

I left this comment:

I need a flower. My youngest’s time in elementary school ends in 6 weeks. The school that I’ve been a part of, that I love, that feels like a hug every time I walk through the doors into that hallway, will no longer be a part of our lives. I’d love that flower. At least I could officially cry with the other moms who are feeling the same thing. Rather than running into each other at all the end of year events, giving that knowing nod but trying not to make eye contact because in each other’s eyes, we know. It’s over.

I would love that flower.

~Happy Mother's Day~

Lessons I hope my daughters learn someday

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 20:49:00 +0000

Princess and Sweet Pea - February, 2001

Do your best. Even if you don't get the top grade, as long as you've done your best, it's fine.

Ask if anyone else wants it before you eat the last donut.

If you don't know if the dishwasher is clean, open it and check.

When the pile of clothes is past the top of the hamper, it's a good sign to do your laundry.

Balancing the trash on the top of the bag means it's time to empty the trash.

Be kind to yourself. People come and go in your life, but you are with yourself 24x7. So give yourself a break.

Hug your dog when you've had a bad day.

Save a little, spend a little.

If it smells funny, don't eat it.

Please and thank you are your friends.

Five minutes spent picking up today saves you hours on the weekends.

Dairy before exercise is not a good idea.

Too much of a good thing is how it loses its specialness. So don't eat all the chocolate at once.

And most of all ....

When it seems like all is wrong with the world, come home. I will always be here for you.

Stops and starts

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 03:28:00 +0000

I'm recovering from a cold, which, if you know me in real life, means a lot of whining and complaining. So while I was blowing my nose for the zillionth time, I came across an email from Blogger, about the blog I started almost 5 years ago. There are only 4 entries, but those posts immediately brought me back to 2005 and what I was feeling and experiencing that summer. It was a crazy upside down time, the girls were much younger, and I was juggling quite a bit.

So while I rest up and try to shake this cold, I share with you my first blog. Enjoy.

Working Mom - Having It All and Staying Sane

This is so weird

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 21:16:00 +0000

I'm not tired.

It's so weird. I'm always tired. I post about being tired, tweet about being tired, complain about being tired. The last couple of weeks I've even resorted to mid-afternoon coffee runs to Dunkin' Donuts, to have enough energy to make it through the rest of the day. I hadn't been sleeping that well, and even when I did get in a good 8 hours, it still wasn't enough. Not to mention the late afternoon naps I had to have if I couldn't get my coffee.

This past week, I had every reason to be exhausted. Week 3 of house chaos as the painters finished my office and I could start moving boxes back upstairs. 60 hour work week, as I was on call plus last minute project work on top of my regular workload. Trying to work out of the dining room while dealing with home improvements. Then, on Thursday, in the middle of my noon incident meeting, I got a migraine, which lasted into the next day. And yet I kept pushing, pushing, pushing. Friday night I crawled into bed at 10:00, barely able to climb under the covers before I passed out.

Saturday morning I woke up at 9:00. Wide awake, full of energy. Had my coffee, went to the gym, did 3 loads of laundry. Went with CT Dad to pick up my new office furniture, brought it home, lugged the boxes up the stairs, assembled everything, cleared out the packaging, swept out all the dust and debris. Not to mention the usual kid corraling. By 2 pm, I usually would have been begging for a nap, but I was still going! I didn't finally get tired until around 10 pm.

This morning, same thing. Wide awake at 8:30. More laundry, ran errands, starting unpacking boxes. And I'm still going strong. What's wrong with me?

I do know one thing that's different. Yes, I'm exercising, eating better, blah blah blah. But at my last physical, my blood work came back showing an extreme Vitamin D deficiency. I've been on prescription strength Vitamin D supplements for 6 weeks now, and have to be on them for at least 4 1/2 more months. I asked my doctor how would I know if I was deficient, and she mentioned fatigue as one of the symptoms. I'd thought I was anemic, but my iron levels were fine. I've read that Vitamin D deficiency was becoming more common as we're advised to use sunscreen and stay out of the sun, and I was never a sunworshipper to begin with.

So that's all I can think of that may account for my sudden surge of energy. I hope this keeps up. Vitamin D. Who knew?

A fourth grader's biggest fear

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 01:46:00 +0000

It's hard being nine. This is Sweet Pea's last year at our elementary school, and the fourth grade's academic stakes are much higher. This week was especially hard on her. She was out sick with strep for two days, and then we had a snow day for the Snowpocalypse that never quite materialized here in northern Connecticut. Sweet Pea came home burdened with two days' worth of math and spelling, and she was really overwhelmed.

But that wasn't the worse part. We'd forgotten about Friday. The Valentine's party. Her last one ever in elementary school. And we had nothing to give out. I promised I would go out and get the Valentines while she worked on her homework.

I've had a pretty rough week myself. We're having some painting done in the upstairs bedrooms, and I've been inhaling paint fumes for two days. I'm also displaced from my home office, as we are switching Sweet Pea to the larger guest room and I'll be taking over her much smaller room once that painting is complete. Between caring for Sweet Pea's strep, fielding multiple calls and meetings, paint fumes, and a snow day, I'd hit my limit.

I took a nap. Then I went out to Walgreens.

First, let me tell you that nothing bonds moms together like staring at almost empty store shelves, knowing that a class party looms less than 12 hours away, and there is no way you can come home empty handed. Sweet Pea's class has 23 kids, boys and girls. Other moms were dealing with smaller children, some in tow. We all were struggling: what to choose? Disney Princesses? Jonas Brothers? Toy Story? Valentines with candy or without? Why do some boxes have only 20, when others have 16, or 34?

I started to feel like Goldilocks. This one's too babyish. This one's too many. This one's too few. This one's too girly. This one's too boyish. And it's not like there were a lot of boxes to begin with.

So I finally call home: "Sweet Pea? I'm standing in the aisle and these are your choices ...." ~rattling off the list of characters, ending with "or there's Care Bears."

Sweet Pea: "Mom! No! I'll be the laughing stock of the whole fourth grade!"

Ugh. Fine. I brought home a box of 34 Valentines, puppies and kittens. No candy. Stickers included.

She looked them over. Yes, these will do.

Remember how sad I was that this was her last year in elementary school? Not so much any more.

~Happy Valentine's Day!~

Maybe I can learn some lessons from The Rock

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 02:44:00 +0000

As the Tooth Fairy, I totally suck. There's no sugar coating it. You would think that after at least 8 years and 2 kids' worth of tooth loss, I would have gotten it down by now. Really, how hard is it? The kid puts her tooth under her pillow, I wait until she falls asleep, and then exchange said tooth for some cold hard cash.

And yet I have failed miserably.

What I have excelled at over the years are the creative ways I've come up with to deal with the morning-after meltdowns, when one of my poor daughters has woken up to find the same tooth and no money. One time, I crafted a note to Princess from the Tooth Fairy, complete with glitter gel pen and curly cue penmanship, explaining that the European children had lost so many teeth that night that by the time she reached America, she had run out of money. Other times, I've snuck up to my daughter's room, crumpled up a couple of singles and put them on the side of the bed between the headboard and the wall, and then called her upstairs: "She didn't forget! Look what I just found!"

My girls have grown fairly patient with my whole ruse, and Princess no longer believes. But Sweet Pea is hanging on, believing with all her heart, even when the Tooth Fairy disappoints again and again. Yesterday was no different ...

Sweet Pea lost a tooth at breakfast. I took the tooth, wrapped it in tissue and put it in the basket next to the sink, and told her that we would put it upstairs that night for the Tooth Fairy. Happy, she bounded down the driveway to the bus, I cheerily waved good bye, and promptly forgot all about the tooth. Completely forgot. Never even entered my mind for the rest of the day. Not even a slight nagging in the back of my mind that I might be forgetting something. Nothing.

The next day, Sweet Pea gets up and goes to school, comes home and has her snack, does her homework. No mention of the Tooth Fairy until we sit down for our taco dinner, when she casually remarks that the Tooth Fairy didn't visit last night. I'm thinking, oh crap, not again, and I shot a quick look to the basket. The tissue was gone.

Think fast, think fast .... "What happened to the tissue that was in the basket?"

Sweet Pea: "I took it upstairs last night and put it under my pillow, but she didn't come." Disappointed pout, large brown puppy dog eyes brimming with tears.

Me (smacking the side of my head like the genius that I am): "Oh, I didn't know you did that last night! Of course, so that's why she didn't come. I didn't know, so I wasn't able to let the Tooth Fairy know, so she got all confused and didn't know where the tooth was."

Sweet Pea (brightening): "Really??" She then concocts the idea to put this tooth and the last one that the Tooth Fairy didn't take the last time (reason: the Tooth Fairy had an especially busy night so didn't have room to take any more teeth - I know, I know ...) in the same tooth holder, so that the Tooth Fairy can take both.

Later that night, CT Dad goes upstairs to do the trade. Sweet Pea was so determined to actually meet the Tooth Fairy, that she put the tooth holder in her fist. Luckily she was deeply asleep, so he could pry the teeth from her hand and place the money under her pillow.

This morning when I woke her up, she slipped her hand under her pillow and smiled. When she came home, she happily told me that she bought ice cream for lunch.

Whew. Disaster averted. She still has at least 8 more baby teeth to go.

Random Januaryness

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 01:46:00 +0000

The new year is 16 days old, and I haven't really accomplished a lot. Our Christmas tree and stockings are still up in our living room. I haven't cleaned out the guest room/office yet, in preparation for painting and then moving Sweet Pea into the larger room (she and I are swapping rooms - she will get the larger bedroom and her much smaller room will become my office).

But there are things I have done. Like dozens of loads of laundry. Vacuuming the living room and den in between cleaning lady visits. Downloading Turbo Tax in anticipation of a tax refund.

And this:

Ladies and gentleman, for my hard work and good attitude in 2009, I've been awarded one of my company's Enterprise IT Mover and Shaker Awards:

My daughters thought it was an insulated coffee mug. Does anyone know how to make a martini?

Happy New Year and Happy Adoption Day

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 16:15:00 +0000

Happy New Year, everyone! I wasn't crazy about 2009, but I have to say the best thing that happened last year was adopting our latest dog, Wynter. I'll admit we had a rocky start, and I have the scar on my forehead to prove it. Adopting a dog during the cold weather is difficult, especially a dog as active as Wynter. But we managed, and by spring she was trained on the invisible fence, so she can go out and run around as much as she wants.

We call Jasmine and Wynter "Beauty and the Beast." Jasmine is a smaller dog, lean, and graceful. Wynter is a brute who doesn't seem to know her own size. We can hear her thundering up and down the stairs in the morning, in the hopes that someone will play with her. She hoovers her food down and will eat Jasmine's, too, if we don't separate them during meal time.

Wynter loves company, and has to be with someone all day. She lays at my feet while I work, and will "talk" to me when she wants me to pay attention to her. Wynter knows when we're talking about her, even when she's in another room - we'll mention her name, only to hear the thump, thump, thump of her tail.

Wynter has her health issues. She had puppies and was spayed young, so she is now incontinent. She also had allergies, which we found out after several ear infections, pink eye, and incessant licking finally led the vet to figure out the problem. So she takes Benadryl and incontinence meds, and she is doing just fine.

We've also noticed some funny personality quirks. Wynter loves critters. She will sit in the same spot for hours, staring at a hole on the side of the house, hoping that whatever chipmunk or mole that ran into that refuge will come out. She remembers where her chewbones are, and you can sense the conflict when we call her - do I leave them? do I stay? As soon as we release her again, she immediately runs back to that spot, relieved that nothing has happened to her beloved bone. We attribute some of her behaviors to being a former stray, when she had to be extremely protective of her food and her home for her own survival. We don't know what she experienced prior to being rescued, but we respect these quirks in her, and they have lessened as she grew more trusting of us.

Wynter is a joy and constant source of entertainment. It's really hard to put into words Wynter's energy and personality, so the best way is to let you see it for yourself:

Happy Adoption Day, Wynter!

Not sorry to see it go ...

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 05:16:00 +0000

Good riddance, 2009.

It hasn't been that great a year. Surgery. Losing my grandmother and stepmother within 5 days of each other. Financial roller coaster. Crazy work year. Tough situations going on with both my families.

Some good things happened. Loving the horseback riding. Exercising has really taken hold and I'm happy with my results so far. The girls are getting bigger and more beautiful as we speak. Bathroom renovation. A fabulous vacation.

So 2009 wasn't a total loss. But it's definitely not in my top 10 of years that I would look back fondly on. Or even my top 20.

Everything seems to be pointing to a better 2010. A new year. A fresh start. I'm looking forward to it.

How about you?

Sorry I mailed your card late but I didn't have your address until you sent me one ...

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Mon, 28 Dec 2009 00:07:00 +0000

Or some other lame-ass excuse .... (omg, CT Mom, did you just use the a-- word? Yes I did ... it's been a long 3 days).

And so I share our three Christmases with you ... enjoy!

Christmas # 1 - our tree with the gifts I wrapped, waiting for Santa to fill in the gaps:

Christmas #2 - Grammy's tree (at my mother-in-law's house):

Christmas #3 - the loot waiting to be opened at our house, courtesy of 3 sisters and me and my parents, for 2 nieces, 4 nephews, and my 2 girls:

So glad I have the week off ...

So are the dogs ....

Have a good week!

Murphy's law and holiday concerts

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 03:25:00 +0000

The month is finally winding down to Christmas. My job has been crazy busy, and it was all I could do to keep up. And then there are all the school activities, including the 4th grade Christmas - sorry, holiday - concert.

My best friend and I always joke about how different we are when it comes to attending our kids' events. She is the mom who shows up at least an hour early, and gets the very best seat in the front row, always snapping those precious close-up pictures and recording those special Kodak moments. On the other hand, I'm the mom who usually comes flying into the auditorium with thirty seconds to spare, cursing under my breath as I wind up standing or sitting in the very back, with pictures that are either dark, out of focus, or catch my girls making some type of weird face. Not my most stellar parenting moments.

This year, I promised myself that it would be different. This is Sweet Pea's last year in elementary school, and our last holiday concert ever in this school. In years past, the annual concert was held at the high school auditorium, with the kids up on stage, comfy seats, and at least an outside chance that I could run up the aisle and snap a picture without getting in someone's way. I told myself, this was the year I would get there early and snag a good seat, relaxed and ready, camera in hand, to enjoy watching my sweet daughter sing yet another medley of Frosty, Jingle Bells, and Let It Snow.

But not this year.

This year, the concert was not at the high school, with the stage and the comfy seats. Nope. This year, the concert was in the elementary school gym, with the kids on risers and the parents on cold metal chairs. Ok, I could handle this. I happened to be at school the day of rehearsal, and saw where Sweet Pea would be standing. I strategically figured out where I would need to sit to get the best view and planned out how early to arrive so as to score said seat. Despite the change of venue setback, I still saw my opportunity for parenting bliss.

Flash ahead to that night. Sweet Pea is ready in plenty of time. She's dressed in a cute sparkly sweater dress, tights and festive shoes. Her hair is pulled back in red barrettes. She is the epitome of a chorus star. All the while, I'm thinking of the pictures would be Facebook posting perfection ....

We pull into the school 30 minutes before she is scheduled to be there. Only a few cars in the parking lot. So far, so good ... I'm almost giddy as we walk into the school. Finally, this year, I'm going to be the parent who gets there with plenty of time!

Then we walked into the gym.

One half of the right section is already filled. Including the exact place where I wanted to sit. And there are only 4 other kids there, including my daughter. Seriously?

Sigh. Ok, Plan B.

My daughters have both inherited my petite stature. Yep, they're short. Which means that this year, as always, Sweet Pea is in the front row. I quickly scan the room, and spot seats that would put us on the aisle, with a clear view of where she's standing. Perfect! I save seats for CT Dad, Princess and my mother-in-law, and relax in the knowledge that while I may not have the exact seating placement I wanted, with enough zoom, I can still get those perfect pictures while watching my daughter sing her little heart out.

The kids file in. There she is, in the front row. Clear view. She spots me and waves. I smile and give her a thumbs up. I turn on my camera, and hold my breath in anticipation. The music teacher comes in, sets up his music stand, turns around ....

And blocks her completely.

I got pictures of her elbow and the music teacher's back.

Happy Holidays.

Giving thanks ...

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 11:00:00 +0000

This year it feels like Thanksgiving popped up the day after Halloween. For some reason, I feel like the months are just racing by, and soon we'll be decking the halls and digging out from yet another snowstorm.

I've been thinking a lot about this year, and what I'm thankful for, and what I can really do without. There are things that are going on with my family that I unfortunately can't share on my blog, in order to respect their privacy. Sometimes I wish I could just unload it all here, and read your supportive comments, and know that this, too, shall pass. And this. And this.

Even so, I have my health, a good job, and a loving family. I have my friends, both old and new, virtual and in real life. I have my music, and all that comes with it.

I have life. A good, full life. And I am most grateful for that.

Enjoy the day, take a moment to give thanks for what is good, and let go of what may not be working. For that one second.

Take the moment and drink it in.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Nine

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 11:00:00 +0000

Sweet Pea,

How did a year go by so fast? Today you are nine. A fourth grader. Your last year in elementary school.

A year that will go by so quickly. A year of endings and beginnings.

I am starting to see glimpses of who you will be. Your sweetness. Your independence. How you don't need to hold my hand all the time when we cross the street. Yet you still come to me at bedtime, asking if I can read to you.

Which I am happy to do. And my heart spills over every time you ask.

There are days when I ask you not to grow up. To stay as you are. But that isn't fair for me to ask. Just as your sister is breaking new ground, testing new boundaries, I hold on to your younger years, because I know that when you move on, we won't see those days again.

A year of firsts and lasts. Your last year in elementary school. We just had your last Harvest Parade and party. Soon, it will be your last holiday party, your last Special Persons Day concert, your last day of school. But these are firsts for you. And that's what we celebrate.

So each morning, I will spend that hour, just us, waking you, helping you with your breakfast, combing your hair, watching you play with the dogs before the bus comes. Carefree, light-hearted, laughing and giggling. Pure joy. And celebrate that day with you.

Enjoy being nine. I love the girl you are, and the girl you are becoming. Be sweet, be free.

And please pick up your clothes and put them in the hamper. Because my hope is that's the last time I'll have to ask you.

I love you - happy birthday!

Love,
Mom

I can scratch that off my bucket list

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 23:26:00 +0000

I can't believe I'm actually writing this ...

Today I participated in my first riding show. Ever.

Every six months our barn holds a schooling show (not rated, just for the students at the barn). I never had intentions of showing when I started lessons in June. As the fall school show drew closer, I wasn't planning on showing. I just didn't think I was advanced enough (read: I really didn't want to embarrass or humiliate myself in front of an audience). Seriously. I ride for fun, and really didn't want the pressure. I'll leave that up to the girls, and just enjoy the show day at the barn.

I blame the instructors.

Well, one instructor, Lucy. She was helping at a rated home show at the barn last week, and she asked if I was showing. Of course, I said no. She then told me that she had two adult beginners in my class. I asked if either of them rode Patty (my favorite horse). And neither one did. That clinched it for me: 1) If I was going to be humiliated, at least I wouldn't be out there all by myself, and 2) I could ride Patty, who I love.

Friday I had one more lesson, and then I went out and did the most important thing any rider does right before a show. I made sure I had an outfit. Yup, show jacket and collared blouse, to go along with my riding breeches, boots and half-chaps. If I was going to do this, at least I made sure I looked good.

Today was show day. Both my girls rode earlier in the day, and took firsts and champion in their classes. Later in the afternoon, it was my turn. My horse wasn't ready, so I didn't get the chance to at least take a lap or two around the ring and work off my nerves before judging started. I mounted Patty, my instructor Stephanie fixed my irons, gave me a pat, and off I went.

I was nervous. I felt like I was all over the place. The judge called for us to walk, then posting trot. Ok, I can handle that. Then she said sitting trot, which I never do. I shot a panicked look to Stephanie, who laughed and said, "Do what you used to do before you learned to post." Um, ok. So I just bounced along until the judge told us to stop. Then we turned around and did it in the other direction. Finally they called us to the center of the ring for our results.

I came in third.

The judge gave me some tips for the next class, and I walked out of the ring on Patty, to wait. But by this time, my nerves were gone. I started to enjoy the experience, and my next class went much better. Until we were posting and the judge asked for a half-seat. Another panicked look, another reassuring comment from Stephanie, and I made it through. We turned around, did it again, and went back to the center of the ring for results.

I was hoping I'd improved enough to make second. Nope, third. But I did get reserve champion, which is a very pretty big yellow and red ribbon. Maybe I got it on pity points, but hey, I'll take it.

So now I'm home. I hung up my ribbons in my office. Not bad after barely a dozen lessons. I'm happy. One more thing to scratch off the bucket list.

Sorry for the grainy picture - 12 year old photographer :-)

I think I'm in love ....

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 23:36:00 +0000

I've seen them in the stores. I've seen folks use them on TV, with what appeared to be delicious results. I kept telling myself, "You don't need it. You can make do with what you have." For years, I've tried, with mediocre results at best.

Until the day I was on the treadmill watching TV at the gym, and I saw it again. Shiny, hot, sizzling. I watched as Paula Deen put together another easy and delicious meal. That's when I made up my mind: I need a better fry pan.

Sounds silly? You must understand - I've tried to make decent meals for years. On occasion, I'll get it right, but most times I wind up frustrated and ordering a pizza. And there was the time I was frying up chicken for chicken parmesan, set off our fire alarm, and had to explain to the volunteer fire department that I wasn't burning the house down, just trying to put dinner on the table. Embarrassing to say the least.

It came down to this: like any other job, without the proper tools, you can't get the results. So I took a deep breath and walked through the doors into the chef's shopping mecca, Williams Sonoma. There, I cried on the saleswoman's shoulder - the failed attempts, the frustration, the humiliation, the family that won't eat (can you blame them?).

And like my fairy godmother, she led me to a wall of shiny cookware, the silver blinding me, winking in the artificial light, beckoning. She placed a fry pan into my hand, and I was sold. Culinary ideas raced through my imagination - the perfect meals I would make! The easy clean up! My family gathered around the dinner table, the smiles, the joy.

I put down my credit card and walked out with a 4 qt All-Clad sauce pan with spatter screen and lid. I drove home, still giddy with the possibilities.

Tonight, I fried up some perfect chicken breast fillets, crispy outside, perfectly done inside. We had the chicken with green beans, and twice baked potatoes (ok, from Omaha Steaks - let's not get too crazy here). My family ate every bite (almost - the girls aren't big green bean fans), and when I asked them if I should make this meal again, I got a resounding, "Yes!"

I guess culinary dreams do come true!

Sick day

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 13:17:00 +0000

I'm not good at taking sick days since I started working from home. When I used to commute every day, it was easier to take a sick day - if I woke up and didn't feel well, I'd call in. I'm not saying that I'd stay home at the littlest sniffle. Instead, I would get up, try to get going, debate debate debate until I'd finally throw in the towel and take a sick day.

Now, even when I'm sick, I work. I figure that since I'll be sitting around in my pajamas anyway, I might as well pull out the laptop and get something done. In a way, it helps my stress level, because I don't fall behind in what I'm trying to accomplish for the week. But I'm not doing myself any favors because I'm not truly resting. Even after my surgery last February, I went back to work a few days earlier than planned, rationalizing that I was resting while I worked, but I really wasn't.

Today I woke up with a headache, nausea and a low grade fever. I need to sleep, to rest, to take care of myself. So after this blog post, I am going to take a nap. No laundry. No checking email. Just really bad daytime TV, a snack, and generally doing nothing. A true sick day.

Zzzzz ....

Forty five

noreply@blogger.com (CT Mom) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 12:55:00 +0000

12.

13.

45.

Two milestone birthdays and a wedding anniversary. I'll let you figure out which number belongs to Princess and which one belongs to me. CT Dad had a birthday, too, and we'll be doing a milestone celebration next year for him. As for my age, I have to admit I'm struggling a bit. Forty five. Forty five. It just sounds so - old.

I've had other major milestone birthdays, when life events happened to coincide with birthday ending in "0". When I turned 30, my parents sold my childhood home. On my 40th birthday, I had gone back to work after taking a year off to be home with the girls, a re-inventing of myself and what my life meant. But I never looked at my age and thought, "Old."

For some reason, this birthday bugs me a bit. I don't feel 45. I don't look 45 (thanks to good moisturizer and Miss Clairol). I still feel 18. With perhaps a bit more common sense and driving a better car (ok, I'm driving a Honda CR-V, nothing flashy, but back then I had a '78 Plymouth Volare. 'Nuf said there).

Forty five is maturity. Forty five is five years short of being eligible for AARP membership. Forty five is mid-life (longevity runs in my family - my grandparents lived well into their nineties). Forty five means my term life rates are going up. Forty five means I can't check off the "35-44" age bracket when I'm filling out a survey.

But in other respects, forty five is considered young. As in, "Did you read that obituary? Forty five. She was so young." Or when you read about someone taking over a company and you find out she's only forty five.

Today I'm forty five. I'm older. I'm still young. I'm healthy, with a full life and a wonderful family. So I'll celebrate by taking the day off, going shopping, having lunch with friends and a fancy dinner tonight with CT Dad and my beautiful girls.

Tonight I'm going to blow out the candles on my cake, smile, and be grateful for one more day, one more year. Forty five. Wow.

I'll let you know how I did when I turn forty six.