Actual Sentences Said to Me

This has been a weird year and we're only three quarters of the way through it.

It started in January when the Belle made it clear, in actions and in words, that she was done. She wanted to die and I believe she willed herself to die.

The Captain was a lost sailor without her. He would often tell me or the husband that he wanted to die. He did.

A friend told me that she's reevaluating her life and doesn't need friends.

My father said he wasn't feeling well. In my opinion, he was receiving inadequate medical care. I jumped in and now I'm sure my parents want to knock me out of the way.

The husband told me the other night that we need a new adventure. I'm not sure what planet he comes from but my life is already an adventure. I want him healthy and happy. I want my parents healthy. I want the baby to excel in college. I want my girlfriends to be able to take a deep breath without worrying about children, parents, grandchildren, etc.

Someone said to me, "I don't like your husband sometimes." If there's a person that you like 100 percent, all the time -- my bet is that you don't know that person very well.

thirtysomething

In the 80s, I loved the show "thirtysomething." Some found it cloying and annoying (mostly men) but I was a faithful viewer. They dealt with a lot of real issues and it was an interesting mix of friends.

I'm thinking about this because yesterday was the daughter's birthday and she is 30-something. I did not birth her but I have been around for a long time. I have witnessed several of her phases, as she has witnessed mine. Her mother deserves most of the credit for the person she is today but the other parents had a hand in the effort.

Our relationship has been pretty honest, even when it's painful. I prefer it that way and she insists on it. It saves a lot of time and heartache when you don't have to dance around things. You can just say, "I'm angry and here's why." Of course, you must be prepared for the response. Usually, it's "I'm angry too. Here's why." I have this kind of relationship with my mother and I value the same with the daughter.

She's made choices I would not have made; she's made choices I envy. I"m prejudiced but I think she's smart, brazen and beautiful. Even when we disagree, we're on the same team. Lots of families don't have this gift.

Happy Birthday Week JC!

My Home Town

For many years, the husband's agency handled Indiana tourism. We used to joke that "Indiana Tourism" is an oxymoron.

While my niece Kelly was here, we visited many of our city's attractions. It's very easy to forget all the arts, culture and sports available here. I was invigorated to show off our city.

The husband says Indianapolis lulls you. It is known for hospitality and sports but we don't get enough credit for our love of the arts. We don't have an ocean and we don't have mountains but we have a lot. In some ways, we're the most southern town of the Midwest. Hospitality is our game. We do it well.

As a young person, I had big plans. I was going to go to NY to dance. Didn't do it. I was going to either coast and make something of myself. Didn't do it.

The husband has lived in many cities. I have not. The daughter has spread her wings and flown to Texas. The baby will probably do the same, with a city that he chooses.

As you know, I love to travel. I also love it when the plane lands and I'm back home again.

Sometimes You Do Want It

The daughter gave me a wonderful calendar and this photo is copied from it. The caption reads, "I don't really want it. It's just the principle of the thing."

That's true sometimes. But I'm also guilty of the struggle to prove I can win.

I See Me

Most parents look at their children and see a part of themselves. I look a lot like my mother but I've decided lately that my predominate physical traits come from my father's side of the family. (Other than the legs.)

It's not just DNA.

I watch the daughter push herself in a challenging situation. I see me. I watch the baby make mistakes and have to figure it out. I see me. Plus, he's the most helpful person you will ever meet.

My goddaughters are these amazing young people. Both are beautiful and I don't envy them for that. They will be judged first on their looks which is unfair. People who bother to look below the surface will find some really smart women. When their good and bad traits come out in full force, I see me.

My maniac dog hates the word "No." She will get in your face and bark herself silly. I see me.

A Cooking Fool

I try to go all out during the holidays and other special occasions. Sometimes the baby will come home from college and ask for a favorite meal -- usually chicken pot pie. The daughter has a favorite meal (pork tenderloin and fettuccine Alfredo) and the husband has perfected it.

Other times, I'm a simple eater. Since we lost the oldies, the husband and I are quite content with a piece of meat or fish and some veges. We often have hor
d'oerves and skip dinner.

But, my goldies are coming. We want to nosh. Jan had a couple of requests. I made them. Deb swears she'll never get out of her stretchy pants. I made some other appetizers too and now I've become a cooking fool. I have ingredients for two more and I will make them today. It's pure joy to cook for people who request things and relish them.

Chicken Tortilla Soup is the easiest (and one of the tastiest) soups. If you give me a recipe, I usually amend it. I make it easier. So, I will share this easy recipe, courtesy of Big Sal, with hopes that you will enjoy it.

Chicken Tortilla Soup

Your choice: Buy a rotisserie chicken and pluck the meat off. Or, use two packages of southwestern chicken strips. Cut into chunks.
2 cans or most of one box of chicken stock.
1 cup water.
Salsa Verdi (green) -- I use most or all of one jar.
1 tbsp Cumin
2 cans of Cannelloni beans (white kidney beans,) drained and rinsed.
1 can of corn, drained.

Put everything in a pot or dutch oven and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for a bit. Put in the frig and reheat the next day.

Serve with the following sides: minced green onions, sour cream, crumbled tortilla chips, shredded cheese.

Kids love this soup. I think they like making their own combination.

So, you dump everything in a pot and then YUM! I must go cook now.

Forceful Personalities

I am married to a man with a forceful personality. I know I did this on purpose. Doormats and wishy-washy people tend to bore me. Smart and provocative folks inspire me.

You're welcome to remind me of this the next time I want to shoot the husband or I'm complaining because someone hurt my feelings.

My life is filled with fierce personalities. A mother who defines strong. A father who uses his quiet strength in his own way. (He can still shut me up with a look.) Friends who have weathered storms and shown me the way to survive. Friends who get in your face when they have something important to say. Aunts and uncles and cousins who led me and love me.

I think of the Belle and the Captain every day. I still expect them to meander in the kitchen and fry something up. They were two of the strongest personalities I've ever known. Well, she was. He tried but he was no match for her.

The daughter is a little (she's tiny) whirlwind. "Forceful" doesn't do her justice. The baby reminds me of my father. He may be quiet. He may not say everything on his mind.

All it takes is a look.

Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys

As I mentioned the other day, (post: Dads) I grew up with Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson, George Jones and Patsy Cline. Tammy Wynette and Loretta Lynn sang about worlds and experiences I could not fathom. Mickey Gilley or Garth Brooks can inspire a counter dance.

Even though he dresses like GQ, I married a cowboy. He's not afraid to be a little rough around the edges. He's good at it. Occasionally, he ropes me in.

I'm not quite a cowgirl but I own the boots. They've seen some dance floors and tabletops. If you run into me in Texas or Arizona, I will be doing my best cowgirl impression.

The baby is almost grown. I watch him with an inquisitive eye and it's all I can do to keep from taking notes.

The daughter lives in Texas. Cowboys abound. Her relationship is sound but a few cowboys do help with the scenery. She lives very close to Willie Nelson. Coincidence? I think not.

The baby does not have the experience of being a cowboy. But he has a sister who lives in Texas and a father who embodies some cowboy characters. He's subjected to country music every time I am in control.

The song says, "Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys." The baby will become a lawyer or an engineer or some other professional. I will watch with pride. I will also hope he takes after his dad and has a little bit of cowboy in him.

Young People and Music

When our niece was visiting, we spent some time in the car. I tend to go between our country station and the station that plays oldies. In either case, she knew the words and sang along.

My goddaughters know most of the songs from my generation. That's because they've been forced to listen to their mother and me sing loudly and often.

The daughter and the baby are both musically attuned. They come by it honestly. I love it that they can skip around different genres, know every word to the Beatles or the Rolling Stones or Garth Brooks and then introduce us to some group we've never heard of. Correction: I've never heard of it. The husband knows it all.

I was once one of those young people. My aunts exposed me to a little country and a lot of Leslie Gore. My father exposed me to a lot of country. My mother shared her love of Elvis. The oldies reminded me of my passion for hymns, big band music and jazz. I filled their CD collection and they let me share them.

Music transcends time and generations. If you don't agree with me, put a teenager in your car and play some Motown music. They'll sing along.

Letting Go

I don't let go easily. It may be people or things but there's a reason they're in my life and I'm a clinger. Within the past few years, I've had to let go of:

The oldies -- shocking.
The daughter who moved to Texas. Expected, but hard.
The baby who grew up and moved to the college life.
Mentors and business associates who have retired or moved on.
Friends who died too soon.
A beloved pet.

I've also had to let go of some dreams and perceptions. That "slap-you-in-the-face" reality is a downer.

I need to let go of some clutter. I'm being swallowed by books and papers.

Mostly, I need to let go of some expectations and the load of guilt I can't seem to shake. I wish they made a magic pill for that.

Different Rules for Different People

This is a slight twist on the haves and have nots. It's more like people who have sense and those who do not.

Someone forgot to give me the rule sheet. Come to think of it, I don't want it.

I've watched people annihilate their spouse with words and a tone of voice they would never use while speaking to their children or their parents. I've done it myself.

I've watched people discipline a pet with words and actions they would never use on a person.

I've seen friends gang up on another friend (from kindergarten to middle-age) and forget that they might be the next target.

I've heard about people who (in a fit of rage) say some pretty hateful things to their children like, "I wish you'd never been born." I don't want to know these people.

We all get to make choices. And yes, I am completely guilty of letting my mouth shoot out of the gate before the logical side of my brain catches up. I get to choose the rules for me and you get to choose yours.

My parents are allowed to say anything to me. They are allowed to be brutally honest. It's a relationship that's built on trust so I don't want the kid-glove treatment. (I've never had it so I would freak out.)

A small circle of friends is allowed to ask or tell me anything. The rule is when we say, "To the grave," we honor it.

The daughter is strong and opinionated. She can tell me what's on her mind and how I could've handled it better. My only caveat is to remind her that she hasn't walked in my shoes.

The husband should be able to discuss everything with me but we have a long habit of getting prickly. Walking out of the room is our universal signal for "this conversation is over."

Society's rules keep changing on me. What used to be taboo is now the norm. I'm not great with change so I'll stick with the morals I'm trying to live up to and the rules I've chosen for myself.

Must Love Dogs

The husband swears I have never looked at him with the adoration that I reserve for dogs. On the flip side, he doesn't drool over me quite the way he used to.

The daughter gave me a calendar for Christmas. It's all about dog things. Yes, I will be that crazy old lady who gave her life to the dogs. My favorite quote (so far) is:

The more people I meet, the more I like my dog.

Occasionally, the husband is in his "Be the Boss of Me" personality. He makes big pronouncements like, "We will never have another dog after this one." I kind of remember my mother doing this with my father and then all of a sudden, they had four dogs.

I will be the first to admit that I own a maniac dog. She's almost two-years old, which is the magic age for Labs. They calm. They sort of, kind of, get the rules. They are pleasers. And then they proceed to eat everything in sight.

Being single again is not in my plans. But if I'm ever faced with that situation, I will have two criteria:

Must respect your mother.
Must love dogs.

Bursting!

The daughter is one of the smartest women I know. She has a spine of steel and a work ethic I aspire to. (I also aspire to have her looks but I think those days are bye bye.)

Here's what I admire most: She is not afraid of a challenge.

In high school, she was quite the social director. She began the same path in college until Big Daddy stepped in with some ultimatums.

I am not a big fan of standardized tests. But, it is funny how some people excel at them and others freeze. The baby seems to ace every standardized test. The daughter struggles and works extra hard. Yet, she pursues her goals and marches on.

We were so proud when she graduated from law school. We were so proud when she passed the Indiana Bar Exam (on the first try.) Then, she moved to Texas. Another Bar Exam loomed. This one covers things like oil and immigration laws -- things she didn't have to study in law school in Indiana.

We share some qualities and one of them is preparing people for the worst. She repeatedly told us that she probably did not pass.

Look out Texas! There's a new licensed attorney in town and she will kick butt.

When I heard the news, I burst into tears -- although I never doubted her for a minute.

I'm Glad Elvis Never Met Her

Prepubescent and teenage years are tough. Hormones, weight fluctuations, braces, etc. Come to think of it, it's kind of like mid-life without the braces.

This is going to come out wrong. I mean it as a compliment but I also want it to be a lesson to young girls and a tribute to the older ones.

For the young ones: You may never live up to your mother's beauty and that is OK.
For the older ones: You are as beautiful today as you were then.

In the late 60s and early 70s, we were divided. It wasn't Democrat v. Republican. It was a worship fest for Elvis or the Beatles. (That is my memory -- don't mess with me.) The Beatles had split. Elvis had gotten fat and drugged out. My mother used to tell me stories about lying on her bed as a teenager and listening to Elvis. She was certain that if they had met, he would have chosen her over Priscilla. Trust me on this one -- she's right.

The oldie's home in Mississippi was less than an hour from Graceland. In every visit I can remember, the daughter took the opportunity to go there.

Priscilla Presley looks a little odd these days. Meanwhile, my mother has managed to age gracefully.

Dotted Swiss and Other Bad Fashion Ideas

It could be rickrack. It might be dotted swiss, ruffles or just the general Gunny Sax look. It comes back to haunt us. Beware friends of mine!! I have lots of photos. Here are just a few.

The Belle loved to buy dresses for me. I was in my 40s while they lived with us, yet she would primp and fuss over me like I was going to a prom.

I was looking for a particular photo and stumbled across every bad dress I wore to a dance or prom. My dates' attires were even worse: baby blue tux, etc. One date brought a top hat and a cane. We didn't date long.

There are no photos of me with a bad perm. The good news is that I never needed one. The bad news is my hair looked weird enough on its own.

Isn't it funny how a photo (or a song) can transport you in time? I like to look at them and ask, "What was I thinking?" I do remember. Mostly I wonder what my parents were thinking.

I wonder if the grown daughter feels that way about her Madonna stage. I wonder if the baby will regret dressing like the boyz in the hood. Or will they embrace it as just a stage?

Aging: A Silly Poem

The Anti-Love Affair with Aging

Your boobs start to sag,
Oh My Gosh, it's a beard.
The mirror is an enemy,
The body's gone weird.

The children are busy,
Our job is mostly done.
They may still need us but,
We're dorks; we're not fun.

The oldies are gone.
It's a jumble of emotions.
We've cleaned out the room.
It's clear of potions.

So, I start a new path,
One that's all about me.
I wipe a few tears and ask,
Who shall I be?

Should I wonder about
Every decision I've made?
Is it normal to ask,
What price have I paid?

In the blink of an eye
I look back through the haze.
What we considered normal
Was only a phase.

I spring from the bed,
Greet the husband and the day.
I have a moment where I say,
"Lookout world, I'm on my way."

The roots may be gray
The knees may be creaking.
I'm still drawing breath.
I'm still speaking.

Not Good Enough

Most of you have experienced the magic of birth. The baby is plopped on your chest and the husband gets to cut the cord. Some of us witness this. Some of us come later to the story but that doesn't make the emotions less intense.

The baby is pretty tight lipped about his love life. I respect that. He'll come around with some girl sooner or later. I'm hoping for later.

The daughter has been very open about her dating life. I watch the husband. If he had a tattoo, it would say, "You're not good enough for her." No offense intended to any boy/man she's ever dated. It's just a guttural thing. I suspect my father has experienced the same feelings.

One of my childhood friends is raising three boys. She and her husband seem to have a great partnership. These boys are babies. I cannot wait to see her claws come out when they reach dating age. I know her. I know her mother.

I have two goddaughters that have taken beauty to new heights. I do not envy their dates and/or boyfriends. I know their father.

From what I can tell, my sister is raising some pretty amazing kids. When she was a child, I used to pull her aside for unsolicited advice. I still follow her around with tips she does not need. I've become Crazy Grandma ... "You'll see."

Who, What, When, Where, Why and How

This is the incantation drilled into every journalist and most writers' heads. We don't have to think about it. It's so automatic that I would compare it to childhood manners. Someone gives you a compliment -- you say "thank you." We think, Who, What, When, Where, Why and How.

Of course, I drill the daughter, the baby and the husband with the same approach. It's not always welcome. I miss the days when they were younger and a captive audience. I miss the days when I could outrun them.

So, I'll give you a few questions. If you answer, it might provide some perspective. Aren't we all making life choices every day?

Who do you most admire?
Who do you miss?
Who do you trust?

What are you afraid of? What keeps you in that fear?
What's your favorite childhood memory?

When the chips are down, who do you count on?
When did you consider yourself a teenager/grown-up/middle-aged person?

Where is your favorite place? (I would also ask why.)
Where do you go for private time and quiet space?

Why did you marry your spouse?
Why do you belong to a particular religious affiliation?
Why do you choose some friends over others?
Why did you choose one career path over another?

How could life get better for you? Is this within your control?

Ask yourself. Ask your spouse. I hope you ask your children.

Like Peas and Carrots

Some things just go together:

Peanut butter and jelly
Little boys and a dirty dog smell
Teenage girls and an attitude
Girlfriends and laughter
Movies and popcorn
Chips and salsa
Childhood and lightening bugs

Forrest Gump said he and Jenny went together like peas and carrots. The movie was on the other night and I thought about the Captain (Hangdog) and the Belle. They went together like peas and carrots.

The husband refuses to eat peas. He thinks they're stupid. I'm not crazy about raw carrots. Maybe opposites do attract. If peas or carrots is the issue of the day, I think we''re having a good day.

Just a moment; Just a night

The baby was home this weekend. He's a working machine so our time is pretty limited. But we had dinner. We watched television. I had brownies, ice cream and strawberries. (Don't faint; yes, I baked.) The dog romped around.

I will have this snapshot in my mind until the end of time.

I also do it with the daughter. Although she lives in Texas, when she is here, it feels natural and normal. I believe that could be called living in the past. (Sign me up.)

Many years ago, my parents tried to explain this to me and I didn't get it. They were so thrilled to see me when I breezed in from college and I was saying, "Hi, Hey, Love you but I've got to go!" They're still pretty nice to me when I breeze in.

The Belle's face used to light up every time the husband walked in the door.