Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade 2012





Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade 2012

One of the items on my list was to do something with my son in NYC. There are always memories to be made on the streets of NY. Some of my craziest stories are from days of cutting class and hanging out in Battery Park. I truly believe that NYC holds some of the most amazing sights, sounds, smells and simple freaks of all the world... you have to experience it for yourself. But- this blog is about the parade...I pulled in my husband and our kids and planned a trip for the Thanksgiving Day parade; a dear friend inspired by my Feed Your Soul Fantastic adventure decided she would experience a first and journey along with us (details to follow in another blog).

 

Tom the HUGE Turkey

Off we went for two nights in Newark and a day in Manhatten! We stayed adjacent to Penn Station thinking we'd take the PATH in and save some cash and trouble... what? Nearly $75 to get us in... needless to say tolls and parking were easier and cheaper than that. Nix the train experience! I will have to plan an underground experience another time. (It'll give me an excuse to take the kids again soon!) Off we were at barely six am, I could feel the anxiety of the city proudly emerging as I cussed like a sailor at the traffic despite my sweet, dear, Southern, Christian friend in the backseat. Ah, I'm home. We were parked and journeying towards Columbus Circle before the crowds were thick and the steam still rose with each breath.



The Pilgrims

We found a great spot on Central Park South and settled in with coffee and crying children. The college girls in front of us chatted and chatted as Ashley and I rolled our eyes and Caleb winked his. The sun rose, the streets warmed, and the crowd began buzzing only the way a NY crowd can. The clowns came running and got everyone on their feet... the parade is coming... the parade is coming! Excited cheers and whoooooo's and screams and hollers, but not a yeee- haw to be heard. 





Ronald has a head wound!

The Famous Macy's Stars danced along and Hello Kitty and Kermit and Sonic and Buzz. There was the huge Tom Turkey that seemed a little smaller, the big headed pilgrims and the President's too. I  was bouncing and cheering, even more excited than the kids. I'd finally got to see the very things I have gotten up early to watch each third Thursday in Novemeber ever since I can remember. Right after the thing I miss so much, a simple turkey dance. A tear fell from my eye for the memory of the turkey dance, only few will understand. 



Cheerleaders!

 

I was quickly distracted by the excitement of "There they are!!!!" from my son. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, he'd been watching manholes all morning just waiting for one to appear. A simple scene to bring this growing young man right back to my snuggly little boy, reminding me of my short little brother nearly a generation before. TMNT who knew?







 

Here comes Spidey!

In between the floats and excitement were all the stars... famous people right there just about within our reach. People that were much easier to recognize when there name appears below them on the screen or when they have a sign falling straight and not floating in the wind at the parade. There was Colbie Calliat no wait, that's not her... who is that? There's The Wanted and Carly Rae Jepsen and who the heck are Meg & Liz? KAREEM ABDUL-JABBAR? There's Whoopi and Gabbie with the rest of the Fab Five and Rachel Crow with Dora! Who's that man with the guitar at Mt. Rushmore and Cody Simpson made the girls go wild and Mannheim Steamroller and a really cool band on a Gibson guitar. 











Jennette McCurdy- Sam from iCarly

Oh wait there is Colbie Calliat, who was that other blonde... that was Miss America! Jennette Mc Curray from iCarly and Trace Adkins and hey, somebody said that was Jimmy Fallon & The Roots on the guitar! There were power rangers and elf on the shelf and yes, Virginia there is a Santa Claus. OH MY GOODNESS! It is Mario and the lady and Gordon from Sesame Street and now I am crying!!! I loved those guys growing up and watched them act silly when my brother was growing up and watched them get old as my son grew up and

I AM CRYING AS I WATCH THEM AT THE MACYS THANKSGIVING DAY PARADE AT NEARLY 40 YEARS OLD!

Sesame Street on Central Park South!





The Fab 5 2012 Olympians





Kareem Abdul- Jabbar





FLO RIDA!



It was fantastic to blend our excitement with that of the crowd. We bounced and got excited. We bounced to keep warm. We worked to explain who they people were... or who we thought they could be. Then it was FLO RIDA! Holy Cow, FLO RIDA is in front of us... dancing with some white chick with pink hair... I WANNA BE HER!!! Then we worked to explain to Lynda how to say FLO RIDA and who he was. It was all so much fun, all so amazing, all so worth every second, every dime and every stumble to get there. If you haven't done it... do it. Make a plan, follow the crowd, and tell me about it. 

 

 



 



 

 

 

 

 P.S. Formatting and pictures suck. I hope you enjoy them!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above all, be the heroine.

Life presents you with challenges every day. Some challenges are simple. Some challenges feel as though they may kill you. Luckily, most of life’s challenges fall somewhere in between and while we may struggle, we get to the other side relatively unscathed. No matter what the challenge, each of us will meet it with a different perspective. For many, we may meet the same challenge six days before or two years later with a completely different perspective and method of attack (or retreat).  I believe not one person truly has the ability to see a challenge from another’s perspective. While it may be our responsibility to listen, guide or encourage each other through… judgment does not have a place. Judgment is one of life’s greatest challenges.

I have been known as the outgoing, chatty, eccentric, loud type through most of my circles. Despite my readiness to jump in front of the crowd and break into song and dance or stand in front of a room of people and facilitate an all day event, I too struggle with the wonderment or judgment. I may not be very concerned with if they like my hair or outfit, or if my hips look big while I am in front of the crowd- believe that I changed my outfit seven times before I left the house. Chances are the outfit is over the top as a distracter. If I sing off key or am unaware of the answer to a question, I am ok with that- I pride myself in not being perfect and expect some margin of error; and I encourage others to as well. It gives you an amazing degree of confidence to admit you make mistakes and it is really ok.

While we generally place judgment on the things we see and do, the wonderment of judgment affects us more on the inside. I will however feel an emotional hurt or perhaps, notice a psychological void, and bury it with retail therapy, gift giving or an overindulgent meal. We all have our challenges. I have often taken this approach rether than finding a safe spot. I have not always had a person you can go to that says, “I love you no matter what” or a set of arms that when you are snuggled in them you know you are safe and protected from anything. When the world judges, when the stones are cast be it by eyes, words, or deeds, we all need a place that is safe. These amazing people and places may come and go in life. As we are human, our ability to support each other changes as well. Treasure those people and places that feel right and allow those who do not feel safe anymore to go. Find and nurture a spiritual relationship, for that is the only true safe spot that is divine.

When it all comes down to it, God has already written your story. You however, have the power to change it. Only you have the power to become the heroine or the victim. Choose your perspective well, my friends. Know that you can make your story a success; at any moment, at every moment, you have every bit of power that you need to make your story a success. Life is filled with challenges. Be the heroine of your story today.

Uniforms: What You May Not See

When I was a little girl, I thought the hardest job must be one that required a man to wear a uniform. My grandfather seemed to work sunrise to sunset, or vice versa. H e went to work in his bluish-grey uniform with NYS Thruway embroidered above the pocket. He drove a wrecker and did something with bridge patrol. I remember being a little girl and getting to drive down this secret road off the Tappan Zee Bridge and down near the river. We’d wind up in what I thought was a secret complex of big trucks and cars with lights on top, and hard working men in uniforms.

When I was a little older, the head of one of the most influential families of my teen years wore a greenish-grey uniform and he too seemed to be one of the hardest working men. Billie went to work when we were all fast asleep. As we got a little older, he still worked the same hours, but left as we were sneaking in. He worked through the night and came home in the wee hours of the morning.

 

I have grown to adore those hard working men in uniforms; the one I love wears a dark blue uniform with a bright yellow and red patch. He works hours and hours and might be one of the hardest working men around. Sometimes, I forget to tell him how much I appreciate his hard work. He rises before the sun and comes home in the dark.  I know he does this all in love and support of his family.

My uniform has been very different than those hard working men. My uniform was one of starched white cotton that later in my career turned to fashionable colors and prints that felt like cozy pajamas. That uniform has taken me through some of the hardest, yet most rewarding days of my life. While that uniform may be easily identified and holds a great deal of my professional pride, another uniform has been the most important in my life.

For nearly a decade and a half I have worn a uniform sun to sun that truly expresses the hardest job I could have ever imagined. My daily wear was once one of smudgy handprints and snotty noses. I’ve carried a large stick and held a soft pillow. I’ve wiped tears and showcased smiles. I’ve shuttled friends and cuddled to make amends. The most difficult job I have ever known is that of a parent, and perhaps even more difficult that of a step-parent.

 

I love my kids, be it by birth or by marriage. They have truly been the most amazing thing in each day of my life. There have been days when they look me in the eye and wish me to disappear. There are days that they have felt my love and support and thanked me from their heart. The most difficult job I ever imagined can only be carried out with love. No matter what, no matter when, no matter how, I will work my entire life, from sun to sun, to water my children with love. It is not always easy to see the growth, sometimes it is below the surface. Someday, one day, many days, the growth is obvious and the hardest job in the world is also the most amazing, rewarding, fantastic day.

A List Creates a Lifestyle

I checked in on my list the other day. I realized I have been toying with this list nearly long enough to birth a baby; conception to delivery. I started tossing it around in December and getting serious in January. Like many facets in my life, I go all out, enjoy the short strong bursts, and find a few amazing experiences. Mirroring some aspects of my life I either lack energy or commitment or excitement to carry through with a long range plan. Some may call it attention deficit disorder, I however think of it as lacking in entertainment value.



A few short strong bursts of amazing were included in The Polar Plunge, riding a mechanical bull, Mud Warrior, meeting my biological brother at 39, Cinco de Mayo salsa, clipping coupons worth over $60, and more than a few fantastic moments with friends. I have said yes many more times than I would previous to this list (including sex with my husband, but not enough yes to hit 40 in a row yet). I have enjoyed many moments and thought they were certainly list worthy, but may not have taken the time to blog them. I have made many memories and changed a few perspectives… all because I wrote a list. I have realized, a bucket list isn’t really a list at all. A bucket list is really a state of mind, a way of life.

I have embraced this list, this new way of life, whole heartedly. I have jumped in and on and around some fantastic fun and seized a few opportunities I would have allowed to pass on by. I have lived, learned, and danced more than I have in a long while. It’s time for me to look within, to encounter those challenges that have seemed to large to bear. It’s time to take a long look at those things that lack short bursts of fun and need a long range plan and commitment. The list has become a lifestyle, it’s time to take it to the next level. Stay tuned…



A rainbow above our backyard.

Three Months and Silent?

I checked in on this blog to catch up on my list. I have done a few fun and list worthy things lately and thought I should check some things off and blog about them. I haven't posted in almost three months! Wow. Take that as a life is good, my days are full, and I will be posting a few fun stories shortly. Off to write... posting soon!

Free Time Soothes the Soul

It’s amazing what a few hours of free time can do for your soul. I travelled to a nearby city to learn, expand my skills, and hone my technique through two full days of training and networking. I started my journey with a moderate drive that turned quite long. I spent an extra hour or more with traffic and time spent on the highway in park. Yes, this was sort of frustrating. Traffic sucks. The lack of traffic is one of the things that enticed me to move from New York to Virginia, little did I know what a difference a decade would make for Southern traffic.

Yes, I could fuss and moan or yell and honk… but a half a dozen phonecalls to the same person persisting through bad service, a little updating my facebook status, a fun comment, a few tunes and I was good to go! I opened the windows, opened the moonroof and belted out some of my favorites with Adele, Amos Lee, and Amy Winehouse. The sun had set, the traffic was gone and I was near the hotel before I got to the B’s!

A full day of training with a lot of lecture and a little movement leads to a long day. It was fun, I acquired a few new pearls of wisdom, but I needed a nap. A wise woman told me to be sure I enjoyed the city I was in and I knew I could not retreat with room service for the evening. I tipped the valet and jumped in a quick shower and off I went. I walked, looking up at the tall buildings that I miss seeing in NYC. I rested, gazing over at the tugboats I miss seeing during hours boating on the Hudson. I smiled and chatted with locals perched throughout the harbor. A sweet, tatted up young guy with gauges and studs seemed shocked when I said, “Excuse me,” as we waited for the crosswalk, “where would you walk to have dinner from here?” He replied, “Hell’s Kitchen.” He pointed and I thanked him.

I found a little pub table between the bar and the window, climbed up and ordered a rum and coke. The music rocked, the walls covered with guitars and art and tshirts and catchy phrases like “employees must carve SLAYER into forearms before returning to work.” I ordered a house salad and a tuna wrap, it was freakin awesome and I finished off another rum and coke. I began to notice the amazing tats everyone in the place seemed to have. I bounced in my seat to songs of my youth. Really, where did my path turn? How in the world did I not wind up with two full sleeves and a plethora of piercings? I’m not sure if it was the philosophy of Captain Morgan in the now, or the philosophical lessons of Florence Nightingale in my 20’s, but together they create me and my appreciation for all things.

Look at the red letters... Sheraton. I am just below the S h e.

Another short walk, a few more conversations with strangers, a ferry ride through the harbor and I found myself entering the back door of my hotel. I message from the man I love, a well timed call from a dear friend and a quick text from my son leave me with a smile and a full heart. I am really not sure of all the twists and turns and circles and such that moved me along this path of life… but I sure am glad it lead me to where I am now. The rum and coke has worn off and the coffee beside me has less of an effect. I gaze out at the lights reflecting in the ripples of the harbor and thank God for placing me right here. Right here, gazing out the sliding glass door below the neon cast of the She in Sheraton. Two nights away from home and one evening in between to do as I choose… I’m glad I chose this.

The List: A Check In

It's almost six months in to this flying fabulously into forty challenge. It's time to check in on this list. Here's hoping these links work...

1.      Complete 40 blog posts.

2.      Lose 40 pounds.

3.      Complete 40 Random Acts of Kindness.

4.      Have sex 40 days in a row.

5.      Take control of my spending and journal each penny spent, for at least 40 days.

6.      Share an event in NYC with my son; a play, a parade, a panhandler.

7.      Photograph and frame a series that has meaning from this experience.

8.      New INK!

9.      Go horseback riding.

10.  Do something in the sky; parasail, skydive, hot air balloon.

11.  Inspire one other person to embrace their life moment with positivity.

12.  Meditate more, rage less.

13.  Music, music, music. Feed my soul with music everyday.

14.  Find out what my gifts are, and use at least a few of them.

15.  Listen to and take my own advice and allow the eternal optimist image to flow inside and out.

16.  Try 40 new recipes.

17.  Pose for pin up style pictures with our classics, at least 40 poses.

18.  Memorize 40 verses of scripture.

19.  Volunteer somewhere new for at least 40 hours.

20.  Dance in a mud puddle, with company.

21.  Experience a sunset in a place where I have never been.

22.  Climb a lighthouse.

23.  Send 40 handwritten notes by mail.

24.  Purchase $40 worth of scratch off lottery tickets.

25.  Have professional family photos taken.

26.  Reduce my own carbon footprint.

27.  POLAR PLUNGE!

28.  Make contact with, make time for, and make memories with friends; old and new.

29.  Make a gallon of wine from honey or fruit.

30.  Experience a girls weekend!

31.  Participate in a local festival I have not experienced.

32.  Do nothing.

33.  Unfriend 40 people who really aren’t my friends on facebook.

34.  Be the wife that makes my husband smile.

35.  Ride a mechanical bull.

36.  Get to know my brother and new found family.

37.  Save $40 on groceries by clipped or clipless couponing.

38.   Begin my graduate school journey.

39.   

40.   

Cinco de Mayo Salsa

I lived a few great stories this week and have returned to this love of a blog. While searching for pics and reviewing, I realized I missed a few great stories. Here’s to better late than never…

I live near a great little city that offers an amazing array of excitement and entertainment. This Cinco de Mayo I decided to take a suggestion from an amazing barista and try one of our local festivalish adventures and of course, rope a few friends into it too. It hasn’t been since high school that I celebrated this fantastic Mexican holiday. My Spanish has declined from fluent to failing and I was bummed that I didn’t get a true Mexican feast… but I planned to celebrate with dance.

The Shoes

I donned my bright red dress and a fun pair of leopard heels, an outfit sure to make a fantastic night. I saw a reflection of Cha-Cha that I could not deny; I decided to take the big black and red lace flower out of my hair and left it on the bathroom sink. Easy hair, waterproof mascara, ready for a long night, off I went, to brush up on my skills at the early group salsa lesson. I met a friend and we giggled our way in.

The Lesson

 Everybody gather around, just a few simple steps. 1-2-3 and 5-6-7 and… I was feeling that beat I once adored. Make two lines, “who wants to lead?” Before I knew it we were rotating partners and I was on at least my fifth partner. The smooth talking short guy; man I wish my dress wasn’t cut so low. The cocky college kid; “THAT was not the signal.” The tall dark and handsome; he scuffed my shoes and should surely not lead. The sweet oriental guy who never spoke, but smiled nonstop. Then the one, an older gentleman. This partner was smooth and sexy and not at all sexual. He was like dancing con mi tio favorito! I learned so much in just three simple minutes.

The Band

The night went on. I danced with more people than I could count. I found expected friends, made new friends and avoided a few. I danced until my hair looked like I just stepped out of the shower. I learned a few new steps, stumbled over a few partners and danced until I couldn’t dance anymore. It was a new adventure, an old adventure revisited. I had a few hours of pure joy. The crowd was amazing, the band was great, and the simple act of dancing and dancing and dancing brightened my spirit for days. Only one question remains, why have I not salsa’d since?

Clipping Coupons

Nine days without power helped create the cleanest fridge I’ve had since move in day over five years ago. That is the best optimistic spin I could put on losing everything from apples, mayonnaise and mustard, to zucchini. I didn’t even trust the ice. One sweaty morning was spent tossing the entire fridge content, removing the shelves and drawers and ice bin and scrubbing it all in sinks of stored water. In a glorious air conditioned house cleaning Sunday afternoon event, the fridge got a sparkly once over with me and Mr. Clean. It was almost sinful to add food to such a pretty sight. We must eat; I must shop, so off to Food Lion I went.

Before I left, I spent a few minutes tossing expired coupons and gathering those that might be relevant from a stack of wrinkled Sunday inserts. I walked the isles, exchanging smiles and stories of the Great Outage of 2012 as I stopped to flip through my stack of savings. I shopped smart, added items on sale, grabbed great values combined with clipped savings. There was neither an isle unseen nor a space to be found in the cart by the time I hit the frozen foods. I packed on those frozen veggies, carefully balanced Ben & Jerry and traveled to the checkout.

The cashier couldn’t clear the belt fast enough for me to pile on the purchases. I refilled the cart with the bagged groceries while pulling the remaining produce from the childless seat. Whew, that’s it. Scan my MVP card, swipe the debit and wait. The total came to $300.89. The discount card savings started rolling… “You saved $44.61 using your MVP card!” The coupon scanning, beep, boop, beep. Final total $239.23. Savings of $61.66- SCORE!

Get out there, clip some coupons people!

The Power of Friendship

Last week I took a pretty spontaneous trip to see a person I do not see nearly enough. There are a few people whose friendship will truly endure a lifetime; Angie is one of those friends for me. Angie and I met as adults; we are both nurses and worked on the same unit together. It has been about ten years and I consider her one of my dearest friends. We’ve been through a million laughs, a thousand tears, a hundred pints of ice cream, and a decade of relationships together. She takes me at face value, accepts me for who I am and understands that tomorrow I, and my life, may not be the same, but our friendship will be. There is something to be said about a person who understands with just a notion and not the whole story.

Occoneechee State Park, VA

The power was out for days, the temperature and tempers were on the rise, and Angie posted a simple “come see me” message. I packed up my teenage son and my geriatric dog and off we went. A few circles of wasting time, a garden trail here, a garden trail there and we arrived safely at her door. Three days of renewal ensued. A dinner out, a late morning in, and a walk through a mall out of a teenage dream brought me through the stress of home into the calm of comfort in less than 24 hours. It wasn’t anything special, but it was powerful.  Time with someone who simply, genuinely cares for you can do magnificent things for the soul. There were no amazing conversations, no powerful moments, just my simple need to be taken care of, comforted and understood. By just opening her door, Angie did all of that for me.

Then it happened, she was having company for dinner. Just a few friends over for a barbeque. Great. She knows I do not like many people, especially a group of strange girls. Well, I thought, “if they are Angie’s friends, they must be ok”. I could always go to bed early. I had no idea what an evening of fantastic friends and fun was about to unfold.

This group of women greeted my trio with sincerity and simplicity. We laughed, we shared and we simply enjoyed each other. They gave love to my mutt. They tolerated and even encouraged my son. They made me feel like an insider. A game of “Taboo” brought out all the personalities and I enjoyed every last one. I went to bed with a smile and a few new perspectives. I closed out my retreat with a little bit of just hanging out inside and poolside. I returned home refreshed and able to conquer the stress mounting at home.

Take time for you. Enjoy time with friends. Friendships are renewing. Genuine care and concern is refueling. Acceptance of yourself and that of and from others is truly priceless. So, I close this blog with a basket overflowing with thank you’s. Angie, Bria, OSCAR( the best talking cat ever), Jennifer, Corrie, Caroline, Amara, Sharika-Shakira, and even Caleb and Dutch; I thank you. I needed a little reflection, renewal and revitalization. You guys are fantastic. My only regret… I wish I took a few more pictures, so I could make this blog a little more entertaining. (Some people only read blogs for the pictures.)

Happy Nurse's Week!

I am honored to celebrate Nurse’s Week. I take nursing sincerely, both personally and professionally. My decision to become a nurse was quite likely the best decision I ever made. My nursing career has helped craft me in to the person I am and will help direct who I am yet to become. It has provided me with amazing experiences, exposed me to phenomenal people, and gifted me with a desire for lifelong learning.

I have been enriched by the patients, partners and peers that I have come across throughout the years. Exchanges that may have lasted seconds or minutes are those memories that I hold dear. Many simple moments that were shared impacted my spirit, my nursing care and my entire life. People will not always remember exactly what you did or said, but they will remember how you made them feel. I have been blessed just as much by caring as I could ever hope to bless those I have cared for.

It is not common knowledge what nurses do everyday. We hold general assumptions of nursing stereotypes that vary from the stern student-nurse-eating battle ax to the know-it-all doctor-hater; or simply from the naughty nurse to the sweet angelic nurse. Despite the common media portrayal, nurses are consistently rated as the most trusted profession (Jones, 2011). It is the translation of caring, compassion, and competence into feelings of comfort that place nursing at the top of the list.

The American Nurses Association(ANA) states, “Nursing is the protection, promotion, and optimization of health and abilities, prevention of illness and injury, alleviation of suffering through the diagnosis and treatment of human response, and advocacy in the care of individuals, families, communities, and populations” (ANA, 2012 ).  Each nurse has a different task list, a range of roles, and a jar of jobs to juggle. A nurse must learn to toggle thoughts, prioritize plans, and think critically about multiple patients at one time. Nurses must enter the most private of spaces, while hiding funny faces and wrinkled noses, all in the name of protecting dignity and pride. Nurses must remember the pieces and parts we treat are never separate from a body, mind and spirit.

I have seen things I never thought possible. I have worn fluids I never intended. I have sobbed with a sorrow I never knew. I have laughed without limits. I have been blessed beyond belief. I’ve nursed and will nurse, no matter what my role, for the rest of my life.

American Nurses Association. (2012). What is nursing?. Retrieved May 8, 2012from http://www.nursingworld.org/EspeciallyForYou/What-is-Nursing.

Jones, J. (2011). Record 64% rate honesty, ethics members of congress low. Retrieved May 8, 2012 from http://www.gallup.com/poll/151460/record-rate-honesty-ethics-members-congress-low.aspx.

Lessons in a Mayonnaise Jar

This isn't mine; I have seen it in email chains and you can search it on google. I love illustrative stories and this is one of my favorites. Enjoy!

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee. A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes." The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things; our family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions---and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else; the small stuff. "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you. "Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first; the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand." One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled and said, "I'm glad you asked." The coffee just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

That Kinda Girl

I was clearing out in the old world of MySpace and found a few posts I had written. Here's one that made me smile... I am still THAT kinda girl, and it is good.

When I was younger, I never had A crowd. I had friends in all crowds; I liked it that way. I never really thought i was different...weren't we all THAT way?

I got my first tattoo and I was proud...but I knew I was to be a professional, a registered nurse and it needed to be out of view because it may make someone respect me less. I was THAT kinda girl, tattoos.

As an adult I moved to VA from NY. I knew I was different... one day a little old lady I was caring for in the hospital and I were talking and she asked where I was from. I knew better than to be proud to admit to being a NYer in VA, but simply stated NY with a smile. This sweet little old lady looked me straight in the eye and raised her brow. She asked me if I knew "the difference between a Yankee and a Damn Yankee"...with cautioned I replied, "No, Ma'am." Her subtle remark blew my mind... " a Yankee heads back from whence they came, a Damn Yankee stays." I became THAT kinda Yankee.

Sweet southern people thought we Yankees were so brass. Hmmm. I've dated all kinds of men in my life; white, yellow, brown, red and maybe even green. I have been told that a person can tell I am THAT kinda girl... one that would date out of her race. WHAT??? It took me over 30 years to know I was THAT kinda girl!

Not all of THAT is bad... I'd always loved motorcycles, but never rode regularly until I met the man of my dreams. I now happily ride on the back of his, but also love to be in control of my own. Did you know that when two motorcycles pass each other...they throw their hands in the air? Yes, the wave at each other. Sport bike, cruiser, young, old... common in being THAT kinda people. Classic cars... we do the same there too! We share a bond and respect at being THAT kinda person.

We just got a JEEP last week. It's not new...it's pretty, but pretty old. Windows off, top down- there is nothing like it. I could not believe it the first few times... I am now THAT kinda girl! Other Jeep wrangler, rubicon, sahara...top down, doors off kinda people all wave at us every time they pass.

Secret societies... you may not know unless you are a part of it! I'm proud of being THAT kinda girl... let's see... tattoos, piercings, interracial relationship, motorcycle riding, classic car driving, JEEP thing, yankee below the mason dixon line kinda girl. Maybe there is more under this scene...can you see it?

Mud Warrior... Misfit Mudders Make Their Mark

The excitement built, the fear climbed, the friends were roped in. Finally the day arrived, a fantastic Saturday morning. The sun was in the sky, the bacon on the griddle, the driweave fabric stretched over my dimpled behind, and the excuses circling in my head. All alone in the kitchen, conversing with the dog, asking advice how I could convince the near dozen people I excited about this day that I had come down with a rare, highly contagious disease that would prevent me from wallowing in the mud with thousands of other people. My magnificent mutt only offered a sigh of discontent.

Before I realized it, we were on our way. Meet a few here, meet a few there, sign a waiver, grab a t-shirt, and pose for a few clean before pictures. “Everybody hold up a 4-0 for Jen,” someone shouted. A menagerie of people all united for an afternoon, a challenge, a celebration, an 8k with 20 obstacles through the mud. We were all thinking, what were we thinking, but over the hill we went.

The finish line, the starting line, the 50 foot slide all began to appear. We needed more photographic documentation, A PYRAMID! We quickly knelt and climbed and spotted and smiled and created a people pyramid to be proud of. Really, who else did that? We were amazing, we were different, we were the misfit mudders. We got the safety shpeal, saw a few surprises and sprinted off for the first up hill battle. Around the flag and down the hill we ran, dancing through tires and diving into the mud, army crawling under barbed wire. Up again and off running through the woods.

It seemed like miles, but was more like feet when the burning from the barbed wire scratches on my neck became nothing compared to the burning in my thighs. The pack thinned out as the teenage boys sprinted into the distance and the middle aged women fell to the back of the pack. Up the hill we went, over the crest and another incline appeared. Each twist and turn seemed to get steeper and I felt as though I might vomit and my lungs seemed to shrivel up in revolt.  Just as I thought I’d quit I heard, “Come on, you can do it” and I felt as though I had a chance. Just as I could not make another step, a teammate in front of me needed a gentle hand and I could reach out a little further. As one fell back, another encouraged, as one caught a cramp, another caught their breath. We balanced each other; not one was ever the last, not one took the lead.  Eventually, we reached the top of that mountain.

We found the energy to jump and cheer and actually run down the hill and through a mass of swinging tires. We encountered other obstacles but challenged each other to run a little further and jog a little less between them. We balanced over beams, struggled over hurdles, swam through a mote, climbed up through mud, and coached each other up and over the walls. The team moaned and screamed and laughed and smiled and before we knew it, we were sprinting and leaping over fire to the final obstacle. One by one we slid 50 feet into a pit of mud and crossed the finish line. WE DID IT!

Clicking through our photos, all I can do is smile. Without each and every one of the people that shared this experience with me, I may not have made it. I may not have endured. I shared some of my most intimate, near failure moments with this group. Each one of them encouraged me and the other members of the team. Each one of them allowed the team to share their own moments with them. Thirteen people came together and shared an ultimate challenge.

It was a challenge that may have been out of reach for any of us individually. Together we conquered it. We conquered it without judgments, without criticisms. We conquered it with undeniable synergy, spirit and teamwork. Thank you, misfit mudders, you were amazing beyond my expectations. You have made a mark on my soul and I shall never forget what together we achieved.

Straight Runs

One of the items on my list was to purchase a $40 assortment of scratch off tickets. I did, and the saga still continues. One morning we were out of the house early for church and stopped in the convenience store to grab some coffee and $40 worth of scratch offs. Gambling on a Sunday proved a blessing as we scratched off $19 dollars in winnings. We recalled a fuzzy lesson from a champion scratcher: if you don’t win more than you spent, just get more. We followed that advice and redeemed our winners for a straight run of the luckiest tickets. We tucked them away until after church, scratching in the church parking lot somehow seemed wrong. J

As I drove to work a few days later, the sun blazed and I pulled down the visor revealing the forgotten tickets. Later that evening, scratching revealed another $9 in winnings. This luck continued and I have redeemed a winning ticket or two for a strip of new tickets at least once a week since the beginning of March. It continues as I still have a few winning tickets to redeem in my purse. It has been fun and has continued further than I could have imagined. The odds of winning a scratch off prize in Virginia are pretty good, publicized odds are about 1 in 4. The odds of winning the number drawings in Virginia are from 1 in 46 to 1 in 176,000,000. I have felt a little lucky, taken my chances, and dropped a few dollars playing the number drawings too. The odds have proven true as not one of those have been winners for me!

It has been reported that three millionaires were created in the recent mega millions drawing. Not one has come forward from the winning states of Maryland, Kansas or Illinois. If it were me, I would have come forward and dropped at least $750,000 by now! Really, what are they waiting for? Take a chance, drop a dollar. It is a win-win; gambling losses are tax deductible!

Do nothing

There are few people that come into your life that exude wisdom. I have been fortunate to have several cross my path. They are the people you learn from by thought, action and word. They are certainly not perfect, generally humble and often seek knowledge and improvement on a daily basis in their own lives. One of the wisest women I know suggested a very simple, powerful item for my list; do nothing. Today I did nothing.

Doing nothing is not an easy task for me. Often as I attempt to be still and meditate, my to do lists run rampant in my head. As I sit to relax, I am quickly distracted and bounce up to wipe a counter or switch a load of laundry. I have used various tools such as coloring a mandala or listening to music to focus my intentions, but it takes great discipline for me to even begin the formality of such.

This morning met me with ups and downs, happiness and sadness, glee and anger; all before 11:00am and the roller coaster continued into the afternoon. Instead of eating the pizza and mozzarella sticks I cooked to cope with it all, I fed them to the dogs and decided to do nothing. I sat comfortably in the sun in our backyard, our blessing of a back yard. The sun warmed me and the cool breeze was just enough to keep me comfortable. I concentrated on the panting of my senior dog Dutch, stroking his head as he rested on my lap. The sound of the train rocking in the distance, and the birds chirping began to soothe me. Joy surrounded me and I smiled from the jingling of the tags on my spry Zaida’s collar galloping across the yard, the splashing of the ducks in the pond and the buzzing of a fantastically large bumblebee obviously intrigued by my rest. I soaked up the sun and pondered the life I have shared with Dutch. Dutch and I have been together for 12 years. He’s seen me at my best, my worst and my wackiest and he loves me all the same. The harsh reality is that there may soon be a day when Dutch is no longer here, just like that of all others in our lives.

Today I did nothing. Today I enjoyed my moments. Today I am reminded to slow down, stop planning, and enjoy the things and people around me. Excuse me while I go hug my son, and maybe I’ll even greet my husband with a smile when he gets home. If not today, maybe one day soon you too can answer “what did you do today?” with a great big sincere smile and “nothing, simply nothing.”

Balance 2.0

I promised a few weight loss blogs and this morning, I am holding myself to it. This week was like most others, full of ups and downs. I failed to plan out the week, failed to pack my bag of snacks and meals, and found myself with too many trips to the cafeteria at work. They have a fantastic cafeteria where I work, full of healthy and not so healthy choices. A fresh pizza being taken out of the oven with a plethora of yummy toppings yielded my reach for the salad bar more than one time this week. An early day without pizza lead me to the country store for a slice of pizza on the way home. I love pizza. I could live on pizza and ice cream.

Having pizza for lunch pretty much zaps out my points and allows for fruits and veggies the remainder of the evening. I did acknowledge the points calculator and got a little creative with dinners this week. I balanced out my slices of pizza with roasted vegetables for dinner. I love broccoli, cauliflower, anything smothered in garlic and roasted in the oven until it begins to blacken. You can eat almost a whole bowl for virtually no points. I baked our chicken and other meats and actually weighed my portion. I filled my plate with about ¼ meat and the rest roasted veggies. Yum. Satisfying. Point friendly.

The key to weight loss is really about balance. Be aware. Admit and log what you really eat; bites, licks and tastes included. I believe the yard work and stacking wood helped; but I managed a 2.0 lb loss this week. Hooray! I’ve moved another twenty stones to the LOSS jar and the LOSE jar is actually showing some space in it. May the movement be with you this week too! J

A Blessing in the Closet

The List has become more than I had planned and I am only three months in to a year long journey. I have found amazing opportunities and seized them. I have had fantastic ideas suggested and planned them. I have opened myself up to you and the others in my life and have been blessed in return. Things I only dreamed of are becoming reality or have become a casual norm. This week has brought me a lifelong dream, one I never thought could play out into the reality it has become.

I grew up not knowing my biological father or his family. I was blessed with an amazing grandfather who filled that paternal role. I was further blessed with a man who came into my life as a young child, married my mother, adopted me and raised me as his own. I always wondered what was on the other side, but being the feeling child, I never wanted to interrupt the normal routine of my paternal family. As I matured, I realized there was much more to my thoughts and feelings and I had become comfortable with what I didn’t know. Every family has its ups and downs, and its closets. When those closet doors open, you cannot forget what you saw inside. This week, one of my closet doors flew wide open, and I am in love with what has bounced out in front of me.

His name is Roger. He is my brother. His smile is contagious, even in photos. His eyes seem to be a reflection of my soul. His voice is fun and calming all in one. His stories seem so sincere and from a perspective I truly applaud. It has been only a few short days since we spoke the first time, but after one conversation I can pick up the phone and call him as if we knew each other all of our lives.

I have planned a visit with him and his family on the way to our spring break excursion in just a few short weeks. I am not afraid, I am excited. I know there are leaps and bounds, bridges and barriers, and laughter and tears to come. With blessings, someday soon I will mock him as I do my baby brother Fred, or perhaps I will experience a new perspective as Roger razzes his little sister.

Roger, thanks for typing that email.