Category: Women

Lighten Up!

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Doing an alright job with these darlings

I had coffee with my girlfriend last week and spent a majority of the get-together lamenting about how I feel like I am not doing enough with my life.  She felt the same way.  We both tore off chunks of our chocolate chip muffin and shoved them in our mouths as if those morsels would satiate us and cease our thinking on this topic any further.  It didn’t work.

It doesn’t work for a lot of women, it seems.  I am around professional women all day (typically attorneys) and I can’t think of one that has felt she is doing everything she should be doing.  One feels like she should stay home more with her kids; another feels that she should express her artistic side more by joining a band; another feels like she should get more involved in her local community; another feels like she should be a first grade room mother for her son.  I always feel like I should be doing more to help the under-privileged. 

Here I am: a woman who worked throughout college and obtained a bachelor’s degree; worked as a Fitness Director; went to law school and obtained a JD; married a wonderful man and had two adorable children; beat out others for a great job with lots of flexibility; is blessed with good lungs for running; lives in an awesome neighborhood; has the most loving and accepting family; sits on the boards of two non-profit organizations; and can still eat a pint of ice cream a night!  What more could I ask for from life?

Obviously, with the way I think, LOTS!

I am part of a large crowd of women.  Should that make me feel better? It doesn’t.  It’s not that I want to stop pursuing ideals and goals that I set for myself, I just want to stop feeling like they should all be completed by 5 pm.  I want to stop beating myself up about not taking Maria to lunch when my colleague tells me about her lunch with her daughter.  I want to pat myself on the back when I take Maria and Mario to a board meeting to let them hear how people who are less privileged than us have to live.  I want to want a lot out of this life; I just want to do it keeping a smile on my face.  As writer Elizabeth Gilbert says “Lighten Up!” 

Let’s just anticipate that we (all of us) will disappoint ourselves somehow in the decade to come. Go ahead and let it happen. Let somebody else be a better mother than you for one afternoon. Let somebody else go to art school. Let somebody else have a happy marriage, while you foolishly pick the wrong guy. (Hell, I’ve done it; it’s survivable.) While you’re at it, take the wrong job. Move to the wrong city. Lose your temper in front of the boss, quit training for that marathon, wolf down a truckload of cupcakes the day after you start your diet. Blow it all catastrophically, in fact, and then start over with good cheer. This is what we all must learn to do, for this is how maps get charted—by taking wrong turns that lead to surprising passageways that open into spectacularly unexpected new worlds. So just march on. Future generations will thank you—trust me—for showing the way, for beating brave new footpaths out of wonky old mistakes.

Fall flat on your face if you must, but please, for the sake of us all, do not stop.

Map your own life.

Happy Birthday, Mary Tyler Moore

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I remember watching Mary Tyler Moore in my family room on Schubert Avenue cuddled up in my yellow bean bag with my chips and soda.  I don’t remember any particular episode but I do remember loving the opening music and the scene where she tosses her beret into the sky.  I don’t know why that scene stuck with me when I was ten but in looking back all those years ago, I have to guess it was the joy of becoming an adult.  Being free of the chains of parents and school.  Living in a big city, buying your own groceries, working, and walking through the park all by yourself.  All of the promise and joy ahead for my ten-year old self. 

I watched a clip of the beginning of the show and I get teary-eyed.  Why?  Numerous reasons, I guess.  Thinking of my

Maria will make it after all, too - I know it.

heartache and confusion as a pre-teen.  Thinking of the innocence and playfulness I possessed at that age.  Thinking of Maria growing up with Barbie and Bratz and hoping that she sees enough strong women in her life to turn into one.  Thinking of Mario and hoping he marries one.  Thinking of how short this life is; disbelieving that MTM is 75 years old today (http://entertainment.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/12/28/9774970-happy-75th-birthday-mary-tyler-moore).  Wasn’t it just yesterday I sat in that bean bag chair and watched her show?  How has thirty years passed in a toss of a hat? 

I attended an event probably five years ago on behalf of the Women’s Fund of Central Ohio.  Mary Tyler Moore was the keynote speaker.  She amazed me without even saying a word; just seeing her in person awed me.  She discussed her life with the audience of mostly women.  We all listened intently.  She described her battle with Type 1 diabetes, her role in Ordinary People, her times on the MTM show, and her revelation that life can be rough but you simply need to lift your chin and forge your own path.   

She acted as a role model for me without me even noticing for years.  It was not until I sat in that chair at the Ohio Theatre and listened to her speak that I realized what a profound effect she had on me starting at age ten.  Here I was a professional, charismatic, independent, passionate woman just like Ms. Moore.  I guess I made it after all….

Tuscany for Five

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Out for our first trip in Tuscany

The girls and I finally arrived in Tuscany two Saturday mornings ago at 10 am local time (4 am Ohio time) after an 11 hour flight from New York (we got delayed close to 2 hours on the runway and then poor Kathy had to sit in an Exit row weat because I had elected one not realizing the seats don’t recline back and we would be directly across from the lavatories!).  The plane trip only produced a bit of turbulence but I still popped a Sominex to pass out and avoid my fear of flying and my claustrophobia. 

We rocked it out after the flight – had no problem getting our bags and booking our rental car and within an hour or so we were out in the Italian sun.  Ericka, our travel agent (literally and figuratively), drove us out of the rental car agency with such style that the Italians driving past us had no clue that we were Americans (until a motorcycle rider zoomed past us and scared us all half to death) – Excellente!  We stopped at a restaurant on the way to the villa where a short, gregarious old Italian man greeted us and escorted us to a table cloaked with a white tablecloth and tiny vases of flowers and pictures of Italian countryside surrounding it.  He spoke Italian so quickly that we all took a step back and looked like deer in the headlights.  He then took a breath and said the all too famous Italian word “Vino?”  We understood that and ordered some red.  He brought it out to us and we quickly poured it into our glasses only realizing after the fact we had poured it into our water glasses.  We saw him chuckle on the side.  We drank our wine, ate our brushetta with the most amazing olive oil of all time, and enjoyed our chicken and grilled peppers and pasta.  We dragged ourselves from our chairs and back to the car for the final lag of our drive.

We got to the villa after two hours of winding roads and speedy drivers and it could not have been more worth it.  Absolutely amazing.  We got swept away upon stepping out of the car with the stone walls and the ivy and the grape vines and the potted herbs.  Jude and Richard, the Villa Cappella owners, came outside to greet us with their little pup, Luna.  They talked with us about the villa’s renovation from a pig sty and horse stables to this charming villa with a patio and portico and every type of tree: hazelnut, chestnut, fig, persimmon, and walnut.  They poured us our first (but not last) glass of Prosecco and offered us bread sticks.  We toasted to an exhilarating week in Italy.  And so it began…

A view of the fields outside of the villa

Jude showed us around the house and had to find joy in our gasping and cooing in each new room we saw.  The villa housed all sorts of African artifacts, Tuscan pottery and tiles, Canadian artwork, Roman statutes and fresh flowers.  The downstairs had a room with a king sized bed that Ericka took.  It also had a room with two twin beds that Jill got.  The upstairs had a room with two twins in it that Lisa and I shared and a room with a king that Kath got.  All of the rooms had fresh flowers and a window with a heavy wood door that, when opened, allowed the flood of Tuscan light to enter.  The smells could have been bottled up and sold back home for a pretty penny.

We got situated and relaxed in the kitchen with fresh grapes, bread sticks, juicy tomatoes, and cheese.  The next morning we took off for the Mediterranean sea – Lisa drove us and used the stick shift with sheer perfection.  We went to a beach off the beaten path in Tonga and felt right at home as we laid down our towels and bathed in the sun.  I found some killer rocks and shells in

The Sea

the glass-like sea.  The Mediterranean sand was black and smooth and the water was chilled but not freezing (a nice change from the Cancun rocky beach that Jon and I head to every year although I did miss the big Cancun waves).  I even got my girlfriends to do O-H-I-O for Ohio State (which is a feat for three Cincinnati girls who love X and UC).  After the beach, we hit Argenterio, a small marina town, for shrimp and rice and red wine.  We shopped around the town and I scored two big superballs – one with a skull and one multi-colored – perfect for my two munchballs!  I loved this town because it had superball machines rather than gumball machines everywhere you turned – it took me back to my childhood at IGA. 

Siena

On Monday we went to Siena to take in the magnificent Duomo and view the breath-taking scene from the top of the building.  We enjoyed wine and potato chips (yes, potato chips!) outside of the Duomo and stared at each other in awe of the fact that we were sitting in such a cafe sans kids, work and hubbies.  What a feat.  We started our ride back home rather late and by the time we hit the exit for our dinner spot it was dark and hard to find.  But, as we found throughout the trip, Obama’s presidential campaign quote fit us well – Yes We Can!  We found our restaurant and settled in for wine, bread, pork chops, vegetables dripping in olive oil and ricotta cheese and chocolate sauce for dessert.  We got home at 10:30 pm (Jude is still amazed that we stayed out past dark nearly every night) and downloaded lots of pictures. 

On Tuesday, we got up early (8 am is early on this vacation!) to head to the weekly fish market in town.  We ordered a cappuccino at the coffee “bar” and croissants and watched MTV videos on the tv.  We purchased our fish (salmon (which was not even for sale but the butcher must have known Americans liked salmon because she brought it out when we walked in), whitefish, and calamari).  We also bought some veggies (eggplant, zucchini, peppers and onions) and we headed back home with our dinner for the evening.  I went for a good run up the gravel road next to us.  It led to a bed and breakfast that had to house hunters as we heard their hunting dogs every night.   We left for Torre Alfina when I returned and Kath, Lisa and I hiked through a volcanic forest.  We got lost more times than we would have desired but we plugged our way through and made it out (Yes, We Can!).  There were a few times when we felt like we knew where we were and we’d take pictures and laugh and then ten minutes later we’d feel lost and it would grow silent again.   We treated ourselves to huge gelatos after the hike (choccolata and fragas for me) and rested at one of the best gelato shoppes in Tuscany.  Jill and E met up with us at the shoppe.  Gelato was our true addiction on this trip. 

The magical forest

After the hike, we headed back home to grill out our fish and veggies.  Jill did a kick-ass job cooking the fish and my other girls helped me cook the risotto and onions and tomatoes (I have a new-found desire to cook once back home)!  We ate on the patio with the flourescent moon shining down on us and the crickets serenading us.  After drinking glasses of wine and stuffing our bellies full of sea life, we topped the night off with the movie “Knocked Up” in our pjs on the couch. 

It felt like my head just hit the pillow when Jill came in at 6:15 am to wake us up for the train to Florence on Wednesday.  We dragged ourselves out of our comfy Tuscan beds and out the door to the car and to the train station in Orvieto.  Jill and I got a cappuccino (“Un cappuccino, gracie”) and a chocolate croissant (yum!) for the trip.  Two and a half hours later we arrived in Florence amidst a throng of tourists.  Of course, four days into our trip and having traveled throughout Tuscany and met many native Italians, we did not feel like tourists any longer so they were quite annoying to us.  A man from Utah approached us and asked if he could join our group – we ditched him after ten minutes.  A group of women from Denver asked us how to get to the Academy (we told them and they did not believe us –

Florence

too bad for them because we were right).  But we continued to stay in our small group of three traversing the streets easily locating magnificent and gorgeous sights (Neptune, Duomo, plazas, the statute of David, Bonacelli marble statutes).  We stopped at an outside cafe for pizza and pasta (pasta with white sauce and peas and mushrooms and pasta with red sauce and cheeses) that took us to another world – it was fabulous.  We ate on the piazza and watched all of the people pass by and commented on the statutes looking down at us.  Horse-drawn carriages passed by us.  We ended the day with gelato as we walked back to the train station.  You rarely see anyone sitting down eating their gelato – everyone walks through the streets with their cones, licking and looking at the sights, giving both their taste buds a wonderful experience as well as their eyes.

Views driving to Monticino

On Thursday, we all hopped in the car to Penzia to try out their world-famous pecorino cheese.  Can any food in this country be bad?  The cheese melted onto the bread and was like candy with blackberry jam on it.  We also enjoyed wild boar – we had to at least try it since we get to hear the barking dogs every morning and night. Surprisingly it was not bad (tasted like roast beef).  After lunch, we crossed the street to a wine shop and got a taste of Gappo – the Italian liquor that makes your mouth feel like it’s on fire (“Liquid Fire” as Lisa calls it).  It is horrible!  Two shots of that and I would be unable to function.  We had to take a breather after that drink but then we headed to Monticino for some wine tastings.  The tour of the first winery (Fanti) floored us because of the amount of care and time taken in producing the wine.  I kept thinking of Jon’s cousin Mario and his home-made wine.  I have a new-found appreciation for that process.  Monticino gave us a treasured gift at the end of our trip – the sunset.  We watched the sun go down from a stone wall at the top of the city.  It only lasted about three minutes but it was gorgeous.  We walked back to the car without a word to say – the experience could conjure up none.  We ate a “to-go” pizza that night (When Jude told us that no Italian pizzeria would give us pizza “to go” we had to find one!) and watched “Under the Tuscan Sun” since many of us had not seen it.

Mushroom Risotto

Friday was a bittersweet day for us because we knew it was our last day at the villa.  We walked through the market in Aquapendente and drove to Orvieto.  Orvieto is a quaint little hilltop town with classy shoppes and lots of narrow streets and pop-up views of Tuscan hills and trees.  We bought our obligatory souvenirs and enjoyed our never-ending gelato.  We hurried back home to meet our Italian cook who we had hired to make us a four-course Italian meal on our last night in Aquapendente.  We arrived to the sweet aromas of the Italian kitchen, and made our way up-stream to Jude’s house for a bon-voyage glass of wine and figs with walnuts and gorgonzola.  The figs tasted like nothing I have had before.  If politeness was not a barrier, I would have emptied the tray in my mouth all at once.  After Jude’s, it was back for more delicious food at our villa.  Arugula, parmesan and cured beef salad, risotto with mushrooms, chicken breast and grilled peppers, and chocolate mousse with cookie wafers.  What should have been a three-hour meal took us under an hour to consume!  We were starved and the food was way too good.  We laughed so hard at this fact – typical Americans gobbling their food up without taking any rest.  Ahh, c’est la vie.  We drank wine to extend the time out and then found ourselves on Faceb0ok looking up past friends from high school (“oh, look at her! “yikes, look at him!”). 

A quintessential Tuscan scene

On Saturday morning, we packed up the car and headed for Rome.  What a nightmare.  Actually, it could have been a much bigger nightmare if it wasn’t for Lisa’s spectacular driving through the chaotic Roman streets.  We missed a highway turn-off due to the complete lack of signs before the turn-off telling us where to go.  We have the luxury in the States of having signs that tell us when an exit is coming and where it will lead us.  Not so much in Rome.  However, because we are five intelligent and resourceful women, and we found our way back to where we needed to be and got to the airport with ten minutes to spare on the car rental (before we were charged another $140 euro). 

Rome felt like we had been thrown into a coliseum to fight for our life.  Ok, maybe I exaggerate a bit but it did feel overwhelming with the number of tourists pushing their way around and the high decibel levels compared to the countryside.  After years of hearing about the Vatican and the Pantheon and the fountains, it was an experience to see them in person.  But as amazing and ornate as the Vatican and the Basilica and the Pantheon were, I still gravitated to the small humble church at the top of the Spanish Steps.  It felt like home; if I had lived in the 15th century, I would have been a peasant rather than a royal.  We all got our picture at the Fountain of Trevi tossing a coin into the water and we all got our last gelato – extra big – at the corner gelato store.  And to think I had my reservations about going on this trip….  I was slammed with work, trying to sell my house, trying to renovate and move into a new house, and just tired.  But my girlfriends worked on this trip, nonetheless, and never gave me a bit of slack for not participating as much.  To the contrary, they called to check in on my mental well-being (thank god) and kept me up to speed on the latest about the trip.  This trip provided just what I needed before my 40th birthday – time to reconnect with my girlfriends and myself – to reflect on what I want in my fortieth decade – to appreciate all that I have in my life – and to laugh hysterically with my soul sisters. 

The girls

I wonder what 50 will bring?!

Left Neglected

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My fam!

I finished the book, Left Neglected by Lisa Genova tonight.  I am not a voracious reader of books, and if I do like them, they are usually biographies or non-fiction (I stick with New Yorker and Atlantic Monthly magazine articles).  But this book hit home for me.  Hmmm, I don’t know why?  It couldn’t be because the main character reminds me so much of me? Sarah Nickerson is a working mom with three kids trying to juggle an 80 hour workweek with kids’ activities and a hubby all while keeping joy and spontaneity in her life.  When that life crashes at her knees and she cannot continue to go ten miles a minute, she is forced to face her relationship with her mom, her addiction to her blackberry and email, and her manic, crazed life.  

Genova’s writing flows so easily and I felt instantly connected with Sarah and her fears, anxieties, and dreams.  I loved her description of Sarah helping her ADHD son do his homework and the thrill she got in taking the time to think of a productive solution to his problem as well as the thrill her son got in getting his homework completed and correct.  Those precious moments carry throughout your life.  I also thought that Genova did a great job at portraying Sarah’s anger towards her mother who failed to pay attention to her as a child due to the death of Sarah’s brother at a young age.  When Sarah has a scare with her own son who could have been struck by a car, she is able to appreciate the pain her mom must have felt all those years after her brother’s death; she gains empathy towards her mom’s situation and in the end, the ability to forgive.  Forgiveness is such a gift.  

The book made me again address what matters most to me.  I need these reminders interspersed throughout my crazed day, week, and month in order to keep me focused on the people and parts of my life that I most enjoy and cherish.  My life is not as crazed as Sarah’s – I have found a job that brings me much flexibility and also stretches my mind to new limits.  But I do have those days when I still think “what am I doing?! Shouldn’t I be working somewhere I could make a real difference?! ”  I will continue to struggle with that question but in the meantime, the bottom line for me is that I am genuinely happy.  I love Maria and Mario to absolute pieces, and cannot imagine a world without their sweet, cherub faces.  I love my husband for being my champion in all that I do, and I love my family and friends for the support and laughs and joy they bring me.  I have it good, and books like Genova make me recognize that over and over again.

Maggie Goes on a Diet, Seriously?

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Is there really a book out there geared towards 6 year-olds going on a diet?  You betcha.  Why stop with women’s magazines that tout thin, blemish-free, flawless women or teen magazines that tout the same for young girls?  Might as well get 6 year-old girls into the mix so they can learn early what is beautiful in this society.  I could not believe my eyes when I saw the book Maggie Goes on a Diet.  A portly little girl standing in front of a mirror holding up a tiny pink dress and looking at it longingly. 

The author (male) justifies his book by stating “Maggie does want to look better. She does want to feel better and she does not want to be teased.” He argued that the book addressed “the issues that kids face today.”  But as the author of the article states, why couldn’t you show Maggie playing soccer or eating fruit versus staring at herself in the mirror while holding a size 0 pink dress in her arms?  By putting her at the mirror, you are reinforcing the notion that the reason to diet is to be able to fit in those size 0 dresses because it is only then that you are beautiful. 

This country has an obesity problem that needs to be controlled – no doubt.  Kids need to be more active and eat healthier foods.  But the reason for doing so is to be healthy so that you can run and jump and climb hills and not get diabetes.  Not to ensure that you look like the model on Cosmopolitan.  And the word diet has such a negative connotation for girls and women.  It denotes nothing related to health but rather everything related to body size and superficial beauty.  I can’t imagine a book like this being written by a woman. 

After having seen Maria go through the name-calling at her pre-school and Kindergarten, it saddens me to see this book in print.  I think there is a much better way to address being healthy.  I don’t know this author and he could have very well been trying to show how Maggie could feel better by eating better and exercising but he has a responsibility to think hard about how his words and images will be felt, especially by 6 year olds.  Maria could not understand why kids would call her “fat” or “big.”  It made her retreat from activities and feel self-conscious.  Those comments, thankfully, have stopped for the most part.  She would never talk that way about anyone else; she has learned from her experience.  She understands what it means to be healthy and why we don’t shovel food in our mouth – because when we do so we don’t feel good and its hard to move and we get tired….  We exercise in order to be able to keep in shape and move when we want to move and climb up mountains when we want to climb and ride our bike for miles when we want to do so.  

Maria is gorgeous and strong and happy, and we work hard to keep her on that path.  This book has no place on her shelf.

Shout out to Moms

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M&M hanging with their mama

Mother’s Day is this weekend.  I hope for a few hours to veg alone either at Stauf’s or on a massage table or on a run along the river.  I hope for nothing more than a couple of home-made pictures from M&M telling me that I am the bomb and that I am super cool. 

I remember reading Anne Lamott’s piece on Mother’s Day (Why I hate Mother\’s Day) a year or so ago.  My girlfriend at the time was contemplating whether to have a child – she is a professional with a good job, husband, house, dogs and she is heavily involved in the community. 

In thinking about her dilemma, I thought about what M&M have brought to my life.  Can I imagine life without them now?  No way.  Could I have imagined life without kids before I had them.  Probably.  It would have allowed me to get more involved in the community, go to events I wanted to attend whenever I wanted to do so, get up in the morning and go for a long run, have more freedom to do just what I desired.  Now I have to adjust my schedule for the kids and give up on events and gatherings that I would otherwise be inclined to attend because I want to be with M&M (and when I don’t to be with them particularly, I feel obliged to be!).  I would never regret the decision to have my munchballs – they fill me with joy and amazement and good times – but I do believe that a person can decide to forego the baby route and still lead a fulfilling, complete life as Anne Lamott argues in her piece.  My girlfriend ended up going the baby route and she has her ups and downs and her frustrations like all of us moms do.  And I know that she does not regret her decision but I am sure there are those days that we all have where we daydream about all we were able to do in this world “pre-baby.”

Me and my girls with sweet baby Grace

I don’t mind the idea of a Mother’s Day celebration or any “Hallmark” celebration for that matter.  We lead such hectic lives that if it takes a special day to make us slow down to recognize the people who mean the most to us, why not?  Earlier today, I watched the newscasters on NBC became emotional when looking back at their moms’ presence in their lives.  As much as I wanted to roll my eyes at this manufactured sentimentality, I found myself thinking about the women in my life and feeling appreciation and gratitude for their presence in my life.  In the end, it is those moments we have throughout our days that keep us plugging along the bumpy road that life can bring us. 

I hope that my mom realizes how much I love her in spite of our battles throughout high school and college.  I now look back at those spats and my anger and frustration and don’t see the woman I saw through my 17 year-old eyes; rather, I see a woman who was full of passion and wonder and yearning to try to find herself and the life that she wanted to live –

My mom and Ri

very similar to the struggle I face in juggling motherhood, my job, being a wife and a member of my community.  Now she has stepped into the grandma role helping me raise M&M and giving me a sounding board whenever I struggle with work issues or anxiety about whether I am damaging my children.  She has reinforced in me that I am a strong, intelligent woman, and she has always supported me.   

Meg and Ri

      

I hope that my stepmom realizes how much I love her for sticking with our crazy clan during the roughest of times (me as a teenager and Sarah as a toddler – god help her).  Meg-pie walks to her own tune refusing to conform to any norm.  She exudes confidence and strength and has always provided support and comfort to me in the worst of times (between breaking up with my high school boyfriend to managing a rogue boss).  She has taught me to always question and to always wonder – as hard and taxing as it may be at times – it’s the only way to grow. 

Patty with M&M

I hope that Patty realizes how much I love her for being a warm, dynamic mom to Jon and providing him with the skills and compassion to be such a loving father to M&M.  Patty exudes energy and has a zest for life that challenges my energy (and we’re thirty years apart!).  She has gone to the limits for M&M taking them for days at a time and playing with them for hours on end.  She gives her whole self to her family, and never declines a chance to spend time with us.  Her spirit is infectious. 

Great Grandma!

I hope that my Grandma Menkedick realizes how much I love her because she is an amazing, incredible, persevering woman who has made a mark on me that serves me well every day of my life (my late Grandma Heile also serves the same role for me).  G-ma teaches me to be humble and gracious and to stand up for myself.  She is the first one to tell me that I need to tell my boss that I won’t work late hours; tell M&M that bedtime is at 9 pm and there will be no getting out of bed; and make my body take some rest time.  She keeps me in line and she reminds me of the power of living in the moment and appreciating the small things be it vegetables ripe from the field or watching late-night tv on the couch with a glass of coke and Pringles.

I have been lucky to have so many strong, energetic, passionate players in my life, many of them women. As Anne Lamott states:

“The main thing that ever helped mothers was other people mothering them; a chain of mothering that keeps the whole shebang afloat. I am the woman I grew to be partly in spite of my mother, and partly because of the extraordinary love of her best friends, and my own best friends’ mothers, and from surrogates, many of whom were not women at all but gay men. I have loved them my entire life, even after their passing.”

So on this Mother’s Day, I give a shout out to all of those women and the many others who have marked my life – thanks for bringing me the experiences that have led me to who I am today.  I love you all.

Out on the town with Ri

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My girl

I rushed home tonight to get ready for a fund-raising event on behalf of the New Directions Career Center, a local non-profit agency that helps individuals get back on their feet and pursue careers.  I decided to bring Maria with me for two reasons: none of my girlfriends were available and I continue to try to open Maria’s eyes up to giving back to the community.  When I opened the back door to the house, Maria came running into the kitchen commanding me to get upstairs and get ready!  She wore a plaid dress with two beaded necklaces, multi-colored flower leggings, a purple ring, and silver sandals.  Her hair was loosely tied back in a ponytail with a black headband.  My hippy girl. 

However, as much as she dresses herself in flowy, hippy, non-traditional clothes, she does not enjoy the same for me.  She wanted to pick out my clothes for me, and since we were going to a fund-raiser where I would not know too many people, I thought “what the heck.”  She chose a short orange dress with leaf prints on it that I had bought for Cancun with Jon and a pair of black open-toed heels.  I felt ridiculous.  I am just not meant to wear such clothes.  My body yearns for a pair of sweats and a T.  But I did it for Maria because she loves getting dressed up and this was her night with her mama.  On our way to the car, Maria yelled to the father two houses down “Andy, do you know where we are going?” He asked where and she replied matter-of-factly “to the bar.”  What a nut.

We got to the event, and she held my little red purse as she strolled into the event like she was one of the guests of honor.  We ate a White Castle hamburger (she hated it; I devoured it) and then moved onto the buffet bar.  She needed to get her tummy full before we moved to the silent auction.  She grabbed a large plate and a small (asking me to hold onto the small one until she was ready for it).  Christmas came early for her this year because low and behold on the buffet bar was meatballs!  I was 99% sure there would not be such creatures at this event but had not told her this for fear she would have declined my invite.  She poured four meatballs and sauce on her large plate.  Next came a ladle of ranch dip with two broccoli heads and 5 crackers (dipping crackers in ranch – to die for!).  I made her get some fruit, and she obediently grabbed a grape and a small piece of pineapple in the shape of a football on a stick.  We sat and ate and people-watched. 

Maria caught with more ranch dip and veggies

After our meal, we began our way around the rooms to look at the silent auction items.  Maria found a cupcake gift box with cupcake mix, aprons, a cookbook, sprinkles, cupcake stuffed animal, and cupcake holders.  She wanted to buy it.  I explained the bidding process and told her that the gift retailed at $100 and the last bid was $40.  She wanted to put down $120.  Oh, does she remind me of Jon more and more.  Her reasoning was the same as Jon’s too: “I want this gift and I will pay what I need to pay to get it.”  She innately understood that if she put $45  she would probably not have a chance.  An antique shopper in the works.  When I told her she could go to $60, she shook her head and mumbled under her breath, “we won’t get this one.”  She loved the thrill of putting the money number down on the sheet.  Every time I told her the price we’d offer, she put a higher number.  The girl likes to spend.  By the end, we bid on eight items, three of which I think we have a strong chance of winning (we ended up returning to the cupcake gift and putting down $120 since it had gone to $100). Hey, it goes to a great cause. 

We stopped for one last round of veggies and crackers and dip and headed out as they were doing a live auction for a trip to South Africa.  Oh, what I would have given to bid on that trip.  I should have just gone for it (Maria raised her hands numerous times, and thank goodness the auctioneer could not see them (even though I should have just let her overpower my risk-averseness )).   As we walked back to the car, a director we had seen in the beginning of the night asked Maria if she wanted to volunteer for the organization, like become a guest speaker.  Maria nodded her head “no.”  She stated “I have a play date tomorrow so I can’t.”  The director laughed and got in her car.  I asked Maria if she would volunteer when she did not have a play date.  “Mom, I will do it when I am 20,” she replied.  I retorted “you will volunteer a lot earlier than that, Ms. Thing.”  She threw the “Oh, mom, whatever” look at me to which I promptly turned around and tickled her until she begged me to stop.  

As we drove home, Maria asked when we would “win” our prizes from the event and I explained that they would have to review the sheets to see who had the highest bid. Maria immediately warned me “We better have bid high enough for those cupcakes, mom….” 

 

 

 

The Turning Point

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My secluded pneumonia room

Since I have been sick, I have had every opportunity to watch movies, reality tv, soap operas….  Unfortunately, there is only one tv show that I like (30 Roc).  I typically love movies but I got sick at the worst time of year – when all of the new releases are horrible!  I get to pick from Adam Sandler’s Grown Ups, The Karate Kid, Back-Up Plan (another Jennifer Aniston movie), and Ramona and Beezus.  In bed all day and that is as good as it gets.  Luckily, we get 10 million other channels that I rarely ever review but in my state of desperation at 6 pm last night, I flipped through them and found the Turning Point with my favorite actress of all time, Shirley Maclaine.  If I could go to dinner with any actor or actress, I would choose her in a heartbeat (when my hubby was in California a few years back, he sat near her at a restaurant and got her autograph for me!). 

Shirley's autograph to me!

The Turning Point was a good film.  I loved the ballet scenes and who cannot drool when watching Mikhail Baryshnikov dance – pure beauty.  The last time I saw him dance was in the movie White Nights (great romantic movie).  Anne Bancroft acted well (keeping up with Shirley’s immense talents).  The film did an outstanding job of showing the strain and questioning  that arises when a woman is faced with a career or a family.  Shirley Maclaine acted fabulously in the role of an ex-dancer who chose to have a baby and ultimately give up dancing.  She continues to mull over her decision for the rest of her life.  Her rival, Anne Bancroft, chose to dance and ultimately give up the notion of a family and kids.  The movie shows us both perspectives, and ultimately, how there is no right answer in the end.  There is a bit of futility and wasted energy in second guessing it for the rest of your life although that does not mean that there won’t be those moments that strike right at your heart and make you long to be back in the moment again.  

Maria excited about ballet class!

Maria wanted to take ballet when she was three years old.  The teacher at the Rec Center was rather domineering and strict, especially for three-year olds.  Maria did not particularly take to that type of personality, and therefore, did not last more than a couple of sessions.  She did look daggone cute though…

The tedious task of shaving

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I hate shaving. 

Enjoy being shave-free for now, girlie!

I am looking so forward to cold weather so I can get a break from shaving.  I am going to look like Grizzly Adams  when Spring hits this year because I have become so annoyed with the process and cannot wait for a reason to take a break.  My razor is always dull and I have to run it up and down my leg five times in order to get a smooth cut.  I think about the amount of time that I have spent shaving my legs throughout the years, and I am sure I could have built a tiny empire or traveled around the world a few times. 

And the armpits.  Ugh.  Why is it I tug and pull all over my underarm in order to get a good shave and yet when I put on that sleeveless shirt, I still find that one lone hair sticking out of my pit.  It’s as if it is giving me the middle finger and laughing hysterically – “You thought you got me, sucker, well I am a hard one to pluck, baby!”. 

Maria walked in to the bathroom tonight while I was in the shower.  She saw me shaving my leg, and sat on the toilet to watch.  Finally, she spoke up and  questioned “When will I get to shave my legs?”  I sighed and responded, “believe me, Ri, you do not want to have to shave.” 

“Yes, I do mom, that will mean I am becoming a woman.”

Yeah, believe me Ri, I felt that way too at age 10.  I remember looking at my pits in the full-length mirror situated in my bedroom at my old house and seeing a busy jungle planted in both of them.  I waited for mid-size game to jump out onto my floor screaming in delight at finally escaping captivity.  I had to actually use gardening shears to trim the hair and then move on to a razor.  Now I realize that my mom and dad were protecting me for as long as they could from that awful, inevitable process – the shave.  I will undoubtedly do the same for my daughter (although I may break down and give her the razor when I see hair poking out of all sides of her precious arms).