Middle School

What an awkward age middle school is... I'm showing my age to call it "junior high." But in 7th and 8th grade, that's what it is to me, "junior high." It's that weird place in between. 

Tonight we attended the 7th and 8th grade winter concert at the high school. It won't be long before we'll be attending high school programs at the high school. In 7th grade, a girl in tights and Mary Janes will stand in front of a young woman in an adult dress, hose, and pumps. In 7th grade, boys will stand at five feet tall next to a young man of 5'8". And they are all the same age. 

The shyness of some of these young people is painful to watch. Each one of them feels as though everyone is looking directly at them and as a member of the audience, I almost want to look away. It doesn't seem so bad with the band, they have music to look at, they aren't looking out at us. But the choirs, their focus is their director in front of the ENTIRE auditorium filled with parents, siblings, and grandparents. They sing so well, but their shyness keeps them from singing. They were barely audible and I know 90 percent of the grandparents did not hear a single note they sang. Bless their hearts. 

I loved junior high, but I also know what a stressful and difficult time it is for those who are about to be teenagers. Is that how young I really was in 7th grade? I thought I was becoming so grown up. I wanted to be an adult at that age, but I was still just a girl in hose and pumps.

As I looked at them, I had this urge to tell my 12 year old self that it really did get better and life was different in ways I could never have imagined then. I wanted to tell my 12 year old self that I really wasn't as big as I thought I was at that age and I'd LOVE to be that size now. I'd tell myself that as we age, we care less and less about how other people think of us. We begin to own our sense of style. Those are things I want those beautiful, awkward, young women to know, and to borrow a phrase, to tell them that it does get better.  

Gratitude

What a weekend! 

On a total whim, my 12 year old son and I dressed like we were going to the grocery store in Fargo, ND, in the middle of January and went to the Iowa/Ohio State football game. 

Four layers of clothing, socks, and a men's parka. John and I both sported fur caps with ear flaps. We looked like we were from Nort DahKOtah, eh? 

This morning, my daughter asked how we got our tickets. I said that I bought them off a guy in the street. "You mean a hobo?"

"Uhm...no. Not a hobo. He made $20 off me."  Yes, I paid more than I should have because they can see me coming from a 100 yards away. But, it was worth every cent to make memories with my son.  

Oh yeah, and Iowa lost. So much for that.

Today, in the midst of all that grips my heart and mind and makes me so introspective, a dear friend came rolling back into my life. 

Just this spring, he had a massive stroke and we didn't even know if he was going to make it. He's now moved to Grinnell, and I haven't seen him since his stroke. The smiles, tears, and hugs from our little reunion were wonderful. 

I can tell you that the things that I am wrestling with in my life look very different this evening. 

A Not-Quite Thanksgiving Thanksgiving Dinner

Something inspired me on Friday afternoon at the grocery store and made me buy a bone-in turkey breast. One thing led to another and this afternoon, the kids and I had a mini-Thanksgiving dinner. I've never made Thanksgiving dinner by myself. I've brought side dishes and watched from the living room most of the time, but never solo. It went really well. The turkey was accompanied by roasted butternut squash and turnips with rosemary and thyme and sage dressing. Not bad. The boy got into the act when I told him he could make a pumpkin pie. Which he did and it was really, really good. Especially with real whipped cream we beat up with the mixer. 

Thanksgiving is getting so crowded out between Halloween and Christmas. It is becoming just a day of rest during the Christmas shopping season. I've already seen decorated Christmas trees in my neighborhood. It's November 14. I still have pumpkins on my front step. 

Think gratitude. Not just one day out of the year, but everyday. 

And When October Goes...

I am unabashedly in love. With the month of October. I love the colors, the crisp air, the coziness of being at home in the evenings as dusk comes early. 

Johnny Mercer wrote the song, "When October Goes," a lovely melancholy song of the change of seasons and a lost love. I adore the song for many reasons. It has started to take on a new meaning, however, when my children and I are enjoying the Halloween department at Target, to turn down the next aisle and greeted by Christmas cards... "100 Days of Holidays" is what Better Homes and Gardens calls the stretch from October to January 1. 

At first, I recoil against all the commercialism of it all. On second thought, the idea of something to celebrate when life seems to be more challenging than not, could be a good thing. I'm not advocating buying more stuff to be sure, but what if we could embrace an attitude of celebration in the face of challenge. Finding something everyday to celebrate, even if it does nothing else but put us in a better mood. We might find that 100 days of holidays could become 365 days of holidays, with some of those days just a little more special than the others. 

Getting to No

A number of years ago, a book on sales and marketing entitled, "Getting to Yes," was a popular seller. The premise was all based on how the seller could get the customer to say "yes" to the product or proposal and hand over the check. 

Just lately, I've been finding all the wonderful ways of saying, "No, thank you...."

As a mother, I've probably said, "NO" a million times. But I've made sure I said "yes" more often...

I am a "yes man." I've always thought if one was asked to do something, "yes" was almost always the answer and don't forget to throw in a cheerful heart. 

I enjoy reading the blog, Zen Habits, and today's post  on cultivating passion is wonderful. Difficult to do because it requires us to get to NO and to say yes to that which furthers our passion. As a full time working parent, there's a lot in my daily schedule that has zero to do with anything that gets me to my passion. Laundry, lunchboxes, carpool, work, and commitments to various organizations I am involved in are all tasks and details to keep track of and can clutter up my time. 

But, some of those tasks, frankly the more mundane ones, are worth keeping.

Two of my passions are my kids. Instead of considering the multitude of tasks that keep my family and household going as a daily drudge, I can see it as something that furthers my passion. Before you get to thinking that my house is BHG photo ready at all times (Better Homes and Gardens), you also need to know that I say NO plenty often to tasks that can wait. What can't wait is when I'm asked to throw the football after dinner or for homework help or to play a game. Or simply to just "be" with my kids.

See? When we identify our passion, it is easier to get to the no that helps us get to the right yes. 

It's August

I think we're ready... school supplies are purchased, registration forms completed, fees paid, a little money in the hot lunch fund...

The cicadas are now buzzing most of the day, a definite sign that the high point of summer has passed. For me, the day that the long stretch of summer turns into numbered days is July 30, my birthday. As a child, I often received a big box of school supplies from my grandmother for my birthday. But I couldn't do anything with them.  Arrgghh... That was hard for a kid who enjoyed school. 

In fact, on my birthday this year, I went shopping for my own children's school supplies. And I cannot resist buying myself some new pens and a notebook. 

Published!

I am a published author! Check it out here!  I am the corresponding author with our HeartMath team at GRMC for The Heart of Grinnell for Alternatives in Health and Medicine. What a cool experience! I am grateful for all the help provided by Rollin McCraty, Institute of HeartMath.