~ Summer

Summer . . . I’m ready

~ Balance & Empty Nest Syndrome

I love working and I love my job. It’s a job that I’ve loved since I started at the high school in 1996. Having my old job back after not working for three years is exciting.

That being said, while I love my job, I find that I’m having a hard time finding my ‘balance’ now that I’m actually working again. I seem to always be in a rush once I get home. At the end of the school day, I get home, start a load of laundry, do whatever needs done around the house and then start dinner. After dinner, I clean the kitchen, finish the laundry and then try to relax for an hour before I shower and get ready for the next work day. Somewhere in all of this, I try to find time (at least I hope I do) for KJ and Murphy.

I’m now starting to wonder how I managed to balance work and home when the kids were young. I worked 7 hours a day, 5 days a week (granted, I had school breaks and summers off), I taxied the kids to and from all their activities, doctor/dentist appointments; I cleaned the house every week, did 5 to 6 loads of laundry a week, and the grocery shopping and yet I don’t recall being frazzled or ever feeling rushed.

Is this because as parents of young children, we throw ourselves full steam ahead into our parental duties, not caring that we also work 35-40 hours a week? Or are we just so tired at the end of each day that we don’t realize that we’re frazzled or feeling rushed? Is this what ‘being balanced’ is when we’re parents and we don’t recognize or know what being ‘off balance’ is?

Granted, I’m still a parent, but Ryan and Lynsay are now 25 and 23 respectively. They’re both on their own and are in charge of their own lives. They are finally the ‘boss of themselves.’ I no longer have to drop one off at football and the other off at dance. I am no longer the magician, who, at one time, could actually be two places at once.

It’s not like I have to rush home and get that laundry list of things done all in one evening. It’s not like KJ is demanding and wants his dinner on the table the very second he walks in the door. If his blue shirt isn’t clean, he’ll wear the black one; it’s no big deal to him.

So why do I feel like I’m always in a rush to get things done? It’s because for 18 years, this was my life. I was raising my children – I was a parental taxi making sure each one was where they had to be at the time they had to be there. I made sure they had clean clothes to wear and hot meals to eat. I got them to the doctor and the dentist, the weekend sleepovers and the mall. I was super mom. And in between the carting around, the cooking, the cleaning, and the laundry, I still managed to spend quality time with both of my kids.

And now I miss it. I feel off kilter if I’m not busy (imagine how I must have felt in California where I wasn’t working and my kids were 2,000 miles away). I am finally feeling that ‘empty nest’ syndrome and I have a confession to make: I don’t like it. Not one little bit.

Maybe this is all in part because it has finally hit me that Lynsay will be graduating from college in two weeks and then moving right away to Columbus. Add to this her approaching wedding in October – yeah, empty nest syndrome. When KJ was traveling and Ryan left for college, it was just Lynsay and I. Now she will truly be in charge of her own life and while I’m incredibly thrilled for her, at the same time I’m a little sad. The time period that I have been looking forward to and dreading at the same time is finally here – it’s called “Empty Nest “ and it’s not anything that I expected.

Maybe as mothers, we’re supposed to feel off-balanced at this time. Maybe as mothers, this is just part of our make up, part of what makes us a mom. While I hate to say it, I also wonder if it goes back to that feeling of being needed by our children. I’m just going to say yes to all of the above and let it go at that.

Empty Nest – something we all look forward to but not always everything it’s cracked up to be; the time in our lives where finding our balance doesn’t come as easy or as quickly as we’d like. That time period in which we start praying for grandchildren and we can once again be blissfully balanced.

~ Happy Birthday, Stinkerbell

“Be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud.”

... Maya Angelou

Today is Lynsay's 23rd birthday. It's been a day of celebration, a day of 'mother/daughter' bonding, a day of me getting as much time with her as I possibly can before she moves to Columbus in May. She has, along with her brother Ryan, always been the brightest light in my life.

She inspires me, she never ceases to amaze me, and she continually fills my life with a joy that even I can't express. She's always danced to the beat of her own drum.

She's not perfect by any means. She's impatient and stubborn, and for one so young, set in her ways.

But she's mine and I am filled with unconditional love for this beautiful young woman who not only will graduate from college in two weeks, but who is ready to go out into the world and blaze her own path. Trust me when I say that she'll do this her way. I wouldn't have her any other way.

Happy Birthday Stinkerbell, and thank you for always being the rainbow in my cloud.

Before

before I ever held you

in my arms ~

before your tiny hand curled

itself tightly around my

little finger ~

before your crooked toothless grin

could instantly melt

my heart ~

before you looked at the world

with eyes full of

awe and wonder ~

before you crawled at the

speed of light ~

before you uttered your

first word ~

before pre-school and junior high,

slumber parties and the

discovery of boys ~

before make-up and high heels,

homecoming and prom ~

before softball, dance lessons,

and your first car ~

before your first breath

and

before your first step . . .

. . . I loved you

Love,

Mom

~ A Pipette Dream Come True

A store where we can shop for wine AND shoes??? Or maybe it’s a store where we shop for shoes while drinking wine??? Either way, it works!!!

~ Moving Forward & Looking To The Future

It’s been five months since my mom passed away. During these five months I’ve made new discoveries and have had several ‘life’ reminders.

Life Reminder: Life is short and every minute of every day is just as precious as the day that came before it. Make each and every day count, say what you need to say and let your feelings be known. That old saying, “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today” is the truth.

This reminder came about in February when a close family friend passed away suddenly from massive heart failure. It was a tragic way to be reminded of just how short life can be. It was a painful reminder to savor each day, surround yourself with friends and family, make memories and just live life.

Discovery: It’s okay to mourn and to grieve but it’s not okay to allow your grief to grasp you in its clutches and take over your life.

In all honesty, I think I started to grieve the moment I drove out of a Village Inn parking lot to make the move to California in May of 2008. Believe me when I say that the tears started flowing from that parking lot until somewhere in Colorado. The moment I left, I was already grieving the loss of my children; the loss of the opportunity to see them on a daily basis, to watch them continue to grow and astound me with their love for life and their thirst for adventure, excitement and knowledge. KJ will be the first to say that I wasn’t exactly ‘helpful’ during the moving preparations. Oh, I was excited for a new chapter in our lives and a new adventure in California, but when it came right down to it, leaving my kids was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

When my mom passed away, I allowed my grief, (which I sometimes think is just a ‘fluff’ word for depression) to complete the circle, so to speak. By allowing it to kick in at full force, I let it reach out and grasp me tightly in its clutches. I continued to wallow in self-pity. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Secretly, if I didn’t have any human contact at all, I would have been okay with that, too.

During this 3-year time period from moving to California, then moving back to Omaha and then losing my mom, I lost interest in doing things. I was floundering and didn’t really care. I attempted to job hunt but admittedly, I never really gave the search my all. I gained weight and wanted nothing more than to sit back in my room with a book. Sadly, I was perfectly content with that. Even sadder was the fact that KJ was worried about me, but even that wasn’t enough for me to realize what I was doing to myself. I have to say that during this period, if it wasn’t for KJ, the kids and my steadfast group of friends, I truly believe I would have allowed myself to continue that downward spiral into a deep and dark hole.

The truth of the matter is, there were times when I felt as if I were standing on a ledge, just teetering on the edge of it. I can’t tell you the exact time that I finally stopped floundering and the fog began to lift but I do know with absolute certainty that it began during the drive from California to Omaha for our move back home.

It’s been a slow and sometimes painful process, this journey back to ‘my life.’ Because of my numerous blessings: a good life, a loving and supportive husband, amazing kids, my circle of friends who are always here when I need them, and my return to a job I love, I am now at that point where I can move forward and look to my future with bright and clear eyes.

I will forever miss my mom. I will still continue to pick up my phone to call her two or three times a day before realizing that she's not there. But even I know that my mom wouldn't approve of my floundering.

The 4th of July and New Year's Eve will never, ever be the same now that Raf has passed away. He's the second one of our group to leave us at such a young age and his and Sally's absence will always be felt.

But, life goes on and we must move forward and look to our future. And if I really think about it, those who have gone before us wouldn't want it any other way.

~ Vaya con Dios

No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever."

. . . Francois Mauriac

I cannot, no...I take that back. I will not say good bye to you, for to me, the word ‘goodbye’ has always had such a harsh and final sound to it. Instead, I will say to you, "Vaya con Dios."

Vaya con Dios my friend, and know that the memories, the laughter, and the adventures, will be with us always, and your spirit will forever echo in our hearts.

~ Home

You can’t go home again. Or can you?

In my lifetime, I’ve heard this saying over and over again. I was never quite sure what people meant by this because I’ve moved away from Nebraska twice and both times, I’ve ‘come home’. Both times, the minute my feet hit that Nebraska earth and I smelled that Nebraska air, I felt calm and settled. At peace in some way. During my high school years, I moved from Oklahoma (where I was born and raised) to Wichita, Kansas; to Fort Worth, Texas then back to Wichita, Kansas and then finally to Omaha. I have to say that while living in Wichita was okay, it wasn’t home and Texas never felt like home.

I’m not quite sure that I’ve always believed that a person can be homesick. KJ and I moved to Michigan when the kids were small; Lynsay wasn’t even in school yet. We lived there for 2 years and while I missed Nebraska, I wasn’t homesick. We loved living there. We made some great friends and really, it was some of the best years of our lives. I was involved in the kids school; volunteered one morning a week in Lynsay’s kindergarten class, accompanied both of the kids classes on field trips, volunteered at Field Day, etc. I even had a part time job at a Hallmark store.

In the two and a half years that we lived in California, I never quite felt like I belonged, it never felt like ‘home’ to me. I didn’t drive a car that cost more than a years salary. I didn’t wear Jimmy Choo shoes or carry a Louis Vuitton bag. I didn’t have my nails done every week. And I certainly didn’t have diamonds dripping off every finger. When I went to get my eyes checked in February, the optomitrist asked me how I liked living in California. I told him that I loved the weather, loved being able to drive to the beach and loved taking adventure trips with my husband. I then said that I also felt that the people in California were very materialistic. He nodded and said, “Yes, here, you are what you drive.” I chuckled and said, “I drive a 2002 Hyundai Santa Fe, I wonder what that makes me.”

Living in California, I discovered the true meaning of the word ‘homesick’. Don’t get me wrong; California is beautiful and we have a beautiful house there that I turned into a warm and welcoming home. I loved the fact that in a few hours time, we could be anywhere - the beach, LA, San Diego. We had wonderful adventures while we were living there. But something was missing: My kids. My family. My friends. There were days where I missed my kids so much, my heart literally ached. It made me think time and again how my mom must have felt to have me living so far away. No matter how old you get, you’re always your mothers children and when you don’t live close to your children, it brings an ache to your heart like no other.

I’ve been home for a little over 3 months now. In the short time that I’ve been home, I’ve lost my mom and have been grieving the loss of her in my own way. But I’ve also been able to see my kids on a regular basis, reconnect with my friends, meeting them for coffee, lunch, dinner or the movies, and I’m now back to being closer in proximity to my sister.

I’ve heard the saying that ‘Home is where your mom is” and while my mom was alive, I truly believed that. Going home to my mom brought a lightness to my heart, a calmness to my soul. Every time I drove to Oklahoma City, once I hit the state line, it seemed as if I couldn’t get home to my mom fast enough. Oklahoma may be the land of my birth but Nebraska? Nebraska is where I grew up.

These days I believe that ‘home is where your heart is’. My heart has always been in Nebraska. My cup runneth over with blissful happiness at being back home with my children.

When someone tells you that you ‘can’t go home again’, trust me when I say, “yes, yes you can.”