The Learning Curve

So, its been one month since my last post, and I feel pretty badly about it. Its not that I didn't want to blog or update my three followers on what's up, but I just haven't been able to (wait for it...wait....) find the time (...and there it is!).

One thing I've always strived to do is keep this blog positive, and to make any messages I put out upbeat. Sure, I'll bet that if I looked through the archives I'd find crabby rants, but people, believe me: everything comes from a place of love. That is not sunshine that just got blown up your ass; its truth.

Anyway, so I've been doing some serious searching lately for myself, looking at self-help books, checking my state of mind out through various avenues, blah blah blah quest for new knowledge blah blah blah meaning of life blah blah blah. Is it my age? Is it some sign from the cosmos that comes with parenting? I dunno. I have just felt so unfulfilled lately, and am trying to analyze every last corner, nook, and cranny in my life. And I have learned some Very Important Things. Bear with me if you've heard these before, and if they are new to you, please, take them to heart and know (yet again) that this comes from a place of love (okay, okay, maybe with a bit of sarcasm, too).

Very Important Things

1. According to the picture accompanying this post, you should make lemonade when life hands you lemons. I will only modify this to say that if you have vodka on hand, add this to the lemonade (that's the sarcasm one).

2. "The Serenity Prayer" that my grandmother had on her dining room wall and that countless people have memorized is a good one. Although I'm not 100% sure about Christianity, I'm okay with referencing The Big Guy here: God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference.

3. People come in to your life for a reason or a season; embrace the inevitability of change.

4. MYOB. Honestly, just do it. Make your business your priority, and leave everyone else's stuff alone. Its not just a Very Important Thing, its good manners. If it happened to or is about Tammy or Donna, and Tammy or Donna wants you to know about it, Tammy or Donna will tell you.

5. And speaking of manners, put yours in your pocket every time you leave home so they are always with you. Good manners can carry you a long way from home.

6. From my mother: Wear your smile, too. It's your best accessory.

7. You can only kill the Neighborly Neigh-Sayers and Negative Nellies with kindness for so long before you just have to open up that six-pack of whoop ass and let loose. Just don't make it your go-to move.

8. I don't care what your IQ is, where you went to grad school, or that you have a doctorate in the study of quantum physics: you need to learn to do your own cooking, cleaning, and laundry. The mastering of those so-called menial tasks says more to me about a person than any framed sheepskin on the wall.

9. If its important to you, its important. Don't let anyone tell you its not. Like your bed made with hospital corners? Toilet paper rolls off the top only? Pets are okay only if they aren't yours? Project Runway is more important than Meet The Press ? Whatever it is, own it, embrace it, celebrate it.

10. I can't think of another right now, I just like lists to have 10 items.

Have a great week, everyone.

For Megs- My Autobiography, Condensed

Above photo: Me, circa August 1988, about 18 months before the end of my time living in Kewanee, IL.

I got an email from Megs the other day asking for my recollections of childhood in Kewanee, IL. While I have many memories from childhood, I think mine was always a race to get to the next thing. Let me explain.

We moved to Kewanee after my 2nd Grade year. My youngest sibling at the time was Katie, and my mom would soon be pregnant with my sister, Abbie. My childhood up until this point was spent in the LaSalle-Peru area of Illinois; my childhood was marked by new babies and new houses; my childhood was constantly in motion. I think knowing this helps explain my comfort with being occupied at all times, and my awkwardness with "down time."

My running reflects this upbringing in that I'm always training, always in motion, struggling to enjoy the moment of the "now" because I've already moved on to the Next Thing on the List. My career/current job also falls in line with this (Dinner for 250+ people, activities and prizes? OK!). Enough analyzation, let's get to the memory portion!

For Megs

1. What was life like when you moved to Kewanee (not because of the move, just life in general, at that stage in life)? Well, I had just finished 2nd Grade at St. Patrick's Catholic Grade School. The prettiest dress I owned was my First Communion dress, which I later wore for a family portrait when we moved to Kewanee. My best friends were Elizabeth Janz, Jenny Bichl, and maybe Missy Marchesi, but I also remember Kim Gergovich (which I think is a cool name), Joey Reardon (because we were the first kids in line to First Communion- both short!), and Eric Duchaine. I remember living down the street from the new kindergarten teacher, Miss Kasperski, and she still lived at home with her parents and siblings. I remember Saturday mornings marked by watching cartoons on television, eating donuts from The Baker's Dozen bakery (right next to D'Angelo's Salon, across from the Westclox factory), or sometimes we would have the frozen glazed donuts (which tasted exactly like fresh Krispy Kreme donuts, I swear). I was pretty happy, I think.

2. What were your reactions to the house, the town? Had you ever been to Kewanee or heard of it? I remember driving to Kewanee for the first time with my mom and visiting the house before we moved in. We met the old woman who was selling the home, and got a tour. It was very much an "old lady" home at the time, with lots of knick knacks and strange smells. I remember having to dress up for the trip, and I don't remember any other kids with us, except for maybe Katie, who was the baby at the time. The house, I thought, was too big, cavernous. I had never heard of Kewanee before we moved there, but plenty of people knew LaSalle-Peru. And I was only 8, so my traveling was limited to wherever my parents took me. I remember moving day, and arriving at the house to absolutely every aunt and uncle we had- plus all four grandparents- moving things around, carrying boxes, making a huge pot of chili in the kitchen (which at the time had this awesome red wallpaper and a red telephone with rotary dial), running through the halls under people's feet, getting lost and having to back-track (The upstairs was an apartment when we moved in, and the hallway was blocked. There was a wall just past what was my high school bedroom, right next to mom & dad's room, and so that far end of the hallway- from the hall closet to the bathroom- was inaccessible from the front stairway). Total chaos from Day One.

3. Was the transition difficult? Did you share your feelings with parents/siblings? For me, no on all counts. If I had to guess, I'd say that Eric and Lisa would have had more reason to be pissed than I would have, especially Eric, who came to Visitation School in 8th Grade. Adolescent awkwardness! Lisa and me, I think, assimilated pretty easily. I think having so many younger sibling diverted my attention from missing anything. Plus, by this point, I was used to the constant motion of my life, and had learned to not attach feeling to anything/anyone, since experience had shown that there was a good chance that things could change in short order.

4. What feelings did you keep from parents? Many times growing up- and especially as the number of siblings increased- I would secretly wish to be an only child, or to have not so many siblings. Remember that episode of "The Brady Bunch" where Jan wished she was an only child? I related to that, the feeling that there was too much going on around me to feel like an individual, the feeling that I would always/only be identified as part of a group. I also hated the fact that I had to wear glasses, and I remember several times coming home from school, sobbing, and throwing my glasses against my bedroom wall because I was convinced that I was going blind.

5. How do you see living in Kewanee, growing up in Kewanee, as a part of your life? What did living in Kewanee then mean to your life now? I see my time in Kewanee as another transitional phase: another stop on the journey, and never thought of it as permanent home. I only lived there for (maybe) 10 years before leaving. I have lived longer in Escanaba than anywhere else in my life, and even now I don't consider this permanent. A part of me thinks that finding comfort in a location, whether that be a state, town, or dwelling, is a sign of complacency, which in turn would breed contempt. I think a person needs to travel in order to become who they were always meant to be. Travel=education=evolution. I'm still testing that theory out, though.

Living in Kewanee for those years only reaffirmed my earlier life, and my life today. That is, it was a base, it was a place to be at that moment, on your way to the next place. It was, for me, never meant to be a permanent place. The constant motion I remember from early childhood has followed me to this day. I love to travel, to explore, to learn new things. Kewanee's options were exhausted early on for me- it was never a place I ever wanted to return to. "Life" was always somewhere else, and it was always the exact opposite of where I was.

And that, dear readers, is your glimpse into my world.

My First Love: Fashion

Yes, friends, its true. Fashion has always been my first love. I remember clothing from my childhood, remember favorite outfits, favorite dresses, favorite hand-me-downs. That's me, age 4, and the caption on the back of the photo reads "Birthday dress from Daddy" in my mother's unmistakable script. My earliest memory of fashion is probably when my family lived in Brownsville, TX. I remember sitting on a chair in our living room, looking at these beautiful stamps I found. They were Christmas Seals with very ornate pictures of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus in rich blues, deep reds, and gold. I decided that they would look best...on my legs. Rip, lick, attach, repeat. Improvised textured tights at age 3!

Other highlights from my childhood include thinking about how genius Garanimals were and thinking that the "L" and "R" on my tennies were for "Lisa" and "Rachel," not left and right. I liked dressing in the same clothes as my sister, like we were twins. See?

Even at such a young age, I could appreciate the classical nuances of a nautical-themed outfit. I remember one dress in particular that I absolutely hated. I was in first or second grade, and my mother asked me to try on a dress. I balked, scrunched up my face and refused. It was ugly, I said. Just try it on, begged my mother. I relented, and hated it even more. My mother gushed at how "smart" I looked. This dress was a drop-waisted number with long sleeves, bib collar, and the skirt was pleated. It was done up in a brown, pea green, and burnt orange paisley. Yes, this was ca. 1978. I took the thing off as fast as I could, and probably cried when my mother told me I'd be wearing it for my school pictures. What?! Not. Happy. At. All. When I look at that picture now, I see the beginnings of a very good actress.

Why all this talk about fashion, dear readers? Well, last night's Project Runway episode left so much to be desired. Boring boring boring! Nothing exciting or new. Plus, I'm still a bit pissy that Icky Nicolas won last week's challenge. I'd like him to go away now, please.

So I've been catching up on the Spring runway shows in Milan via the New York Times and Cathy Horyn, and must say that I am in love with Bottega Veneta's collection. And that led me to a blog I've heard of and visited in the past, but never really followed. Well, that's all changed now! Please get your daily fashion fix at The Sartorialist. Its worth the time, promise.

Have a great weekend everyone.

B & B Club, Revisited

"B & B" Club? Well, back in the day, My Favorite Redhead, Becks and I had a book club. There were good books, good friends (more than just Red and Becks), and good drinks. Hence the moniker "Booze & Books." Please note the order of the wording: booze first. Anyhoo, things happened, gals moved around, lives got busy, and B & B was pushed to the back burner.

Until now. About six weeks ago, Red decided that we should resurrect the Club. Me and Becks were in agreement, and more fabulous women were invited to read the first book of the newly reincarnated "B & B" Club: The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich .

Red went to the local bookstore and when she told the clerk that she needed the book for her book club, the clerk told her about the discount offered to local book clubs who register at the store. Sweet! Which brings me back to the naming of the club. "Booze & Books" does not sound like the type of club for dentists' wives, youth program directors, community corrections directors, teachers...you catch my drift? And so it was shortened- abbreviated- to "B & B." And then when we found out that Becks is expecting (!!!), well, our minds just shot off hundreds of new word combinations that the two Bs could stand for. Bottles & Babies, Boobs & Boo-tay, Bruschetta & Bon Bons...I could go on.

And so it is that the re-formed B & B Club will have its first meeting in just three short weeks. I've already finished the book (amazing!), and am now in the menu-planning stages, since the meeting will be here at my house. Gourmet pizzas okay with everyone? Good.

Other news? Well, I ran the Quad Cities Marathon yesterday, and for the first race in a loooonnnnggg tiiiimmmmeee I developed nasty blisters. One on my back ankle about the size of a half dollar, and one on the inside ball of each foot. Ouch. So, the time I was aiming for (about 4:45) was seriously thwarted, and I finished instead in about 5:21. Greatly discouraged, yes; taking a break, yes; planning my next marathon already, yes.

New favorite quotes:

"Fall seven times and stand up eight." - Japanese Proverb

"It's hard to beat a person who never gives up." - Babe Ruth

Have a great week.

Farewell, Summer

So, the first week of school happened while I was in Denver for a work-related conference. No biggie, right? Well, except for Daughter #1 getting side-swiped in the car on her way to school (and whomever hit her decided to leave the scene...), all was well.  I'm surprised at how quickly and effortlessly my family fell back into their school year routines- Fall already! It seems like just last week that I was still tapping my foot and checking my watch, wondering why Summer hadn't shown up yet.  And so, in the wake of Summer's end, I present to you another installment of my "From The Editor" article, originally published in my running club's newsletter, circa September-October 2008, and re-worked for this venue.  Enjoy!

The other night, I put a quilt on my bed. Why does this matter? Well, because it was August when I wrote this, it was August that other night when I put the quilt on my bed, and as we all know, August is the month of Summer that is hot, sticky, sweltering, and most definitely un-quilt-ish.  So why the quilt? And why the following story?

Some of you get it already, and some of you have clicked away from this page.  Here it is:  Summer is over.

My heart broke as I wrote those words.  I love Summer unapologetically; I cast all affection to the season, caring not how the other seasons feel.  Spring may tease with its sporadic 70-degree days, and Fall may try to trick us into thinking there's sunshine, what with its flame-hued leaves and such.  Winter doesn't even try anymore- the cool blue and grey tones of the days are only fleetingly interrupted with glaring sunshine, momentarily making us Northern-dwelling folks forgo toques and gloves for a day.  But it is Summer days- the entire length of them- that I enjoy.

This Summer (as in the Summers of the past two years) I thought for sure that I would be able to languish at the beach with a blanket and a good book.  Work had other ideas for me.  My (Never-Ending) kitchen renovation and new patio had other ideas for me.  My family had other ideas for me.

Work renovation shopping laundry sleep patio work family vacuuming driving bargain hunting kids marathon stop to eat something anything renovation concrete splatter those bunnies are still here?

And that was just the first week of June.  I've never been very good at allowing myself to relax and slow down, even when I know I'll crash hard.  I had every intention of carving out a few hours for myself for unscheduled, unstructured alone time.  Well, we all know that saying about the path and how it is paved...

So I settled into a routine at work, Mr. Fix settled into a routine with the renovation and new patio, and Daughters #1 and #2 kept up their Summer tradition of eating breakfast at noon.  It wasn't until the summer program I run at work was complete that I realized I hadn't used any vacation days.  Not.  Even.  One.

At this point, I know I need to get away and relax, focus on nothing but whatever I like.  I know that my reward for (finally) indulging in some "Me Time" will be a sense of renewal and eagerness that has somehow slipped away with the days of June, July and August.  Is this what most people know as "revitalization of the spirit?" Today I am ready to face the start of another school year, another Fall marathon, and another Winter of cold cold cold cold cold!

And, maybe more importantly, I'm ready to accept that my "blanket and good book" meant for the beach are going to be my "quilt and good book" in my bed.

Pencils? Notebooks? Lunch Money?

Check, check, and check. Today marks the first day of school for the Fix Family. YAY! While Mr. Fix and Daughters #1 & #2 make their way into their (not really) new daily routines, I am spending the day in airports. Yep, off to Denver for a conference.

Do you remember your very first day of school? I remember a few details: St. Patrick's Catholic School in LaSalle, IL; the kindergarten classroom was on the lower level of the building, with easy access to the playground; I remember asking my mom why some of the other kids were crying; the rest is a blur. I've always loved school. What's not to love about learning something new? Sure, you have to learn to take the good (art class, reading) with the bad (U.S. History, math concepts like "negative infinity"), but ultimately you learn something new every day.

I went from St. Pat's to Visitation School in Kewanee, IL, where not only was the location and scenery new, but so was the fact that we had to wear uniforms. And they were ugly, too. Royal blue, black and white plaid jumpers (or skirts, once you reached junior high). White, light blue, or even pale yellow blouses were allowed, and eventually we were allowed polo shirts instead. No pants for girls, except in Winter, and even then they had to be under our skirts. So ugly, such a horrible exercise in removing the individuality of youth. Did I hate wearing a uniform? YES. Would I ever consider sending my child to a school with uniforms? NEVER. Can I see the logic and convenience of uniforms? Kind of- I get the "convenient" part, and I get the whole "part of a group" thing. I just don't buy into it. If the message of the group is strong enough, it should survive and thrive while in cute clothes, no?

But I digress from the whole "first day" thing. No butterflies. A sense of excitement, maybe, but it has to do with the return to a routine, the sense of familiarity, a homecoming of sorts. I'm one of those people who advocate for year-round schooling. As a person in the education field, sometimes I find myself the outcast with that line of thinking. "How can you want to give up your Summers off?" Well, I don't have Summers off, and since research shows that kids do better with shorter breaks (say, three weeks) throughout the calendar year in terms of academic achievement, I don't see why our school system insists on keeping the status quo. Unions? Perhaps. But I know plenty of parents who would pitch a fit, too.

And speaking of pitching a fit, can you believe the baloney over President Obama's speech to the nation's school children? Really? You're going to keep your kids home from school because the President is addressing them? Maybe its time for you to go back to school and learn some manners.

So there. Have a great week!

Is That What I Think It Is?

I can say with 100% certainty that I never expected to see a camel- two, even!- walking down my town's Main Street here in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  Normally, the parades around here have a few horses and maybe some dogs on fire trucks and stuff, but this parade had a mini-menagerie:  horses, dogs, camels, and alpacas.  Not to mention the non-animal attractions of your typical small town parade:  giant tractors, Shriners on go-carts, muscle cars squealing out their tires, the high school marching band (where Daughter #1 made her debut as drum major), and pre-adolescent gymnasts tumbling in the street.  The parade was to commemorate the "last" U.P. State Fair (the State has cut all funding for the fair as a budgetary measure).  There were even bagpipers (my favorite).

It was nice to see this display, especially since I will not be going to the Hog Capital of the World for Labor Day this year.  An ill-timed mandatory conference will be keeping me busy in Denver, keeping me from my annual pilgrimage to Illinois.  *grumble grumble grumble*

Other than my summer program being complete, rushing to get annual grant reports finished, and having no time for just sitting in the sun, I am training for another marathon , and getting ready to send Mr. Fix, Daughters #1 and #2 back to school. Yay! I'm so ready to get them back on a regular schedule, you know? They don't do so well with unstructured days.

I did have time to run up to Marquette for an afternoon, and stopped and treated myself to some beautiful flowers from Garden Bouquet & Design .  See?

A giant Dinner Plate dahlia and some Love Lies Bleeding were matched up with some of my own garden's standard dahlias and cannas (sp?).  So lovely, and a nice bit of decor for a mid-week Ladies' Night Birthday BBQ with My Favorite Redhead, My Favorite Local Celebrity, and My Favorite Shiksa (who not only celebrated a birthday, but a close to her single life, too!).  

Have a great week, and enjoy these last bits of Summer.