Wednesday, June 29, 2011

June Cleaver I Am Not...But Where Have All The Real Mothers Gone?


Let me ask you a question....which do you consider yourself, someone who sees things in black and white or a person who sees in shades of gray?

Until a few years ago I was very much a black and white person, (almost a little too much so), and then something happened to me. Not sure if it was the wisdom I acquired throughout the years, or just that perspective finally made an appearance in me. Either way, I am glad for the extra compassion, sympathy and understanding this shift has brought to my life.

There is, however, one thing that I remain very much black and white on: my responsibility as a mother.

And for that matter, what I believe is the responsibility of every woman who becomes a mother, you have got to show up.  It is not an option to simply phone it in or "check out" of mothering when the going gets tough. I've seen the effect on children when this happens, and it isn't pretty. It is a future killer. For the kids who's parents don't show up for them, and for their kids, and for future generations of kids.

I would venture a guess that what is wrong with many of today's troubled youth, is a lack of any real parenting. And I fear the root of the problem goes back farther into the family tree than their own parents. We need to do something to stop this trend. Where have all the real mother's gone? I wish I knew the answer/solution to that question.

I have to admit, parenting is often times a thankless job while you are in the midst of it. Because I am a mother, I can speak only about how difficult it is to do this half of the parenting equation. Ever heard the term fun sucker? That's me. I've been called that by my children, and it's probably thought about me even more often.

It's okay. It's in the job description and I agreed to it when I took on the job.

While I believe it is a great thing to have your kids like you, it is not your job to be their friend! Your job is to be their parent. The voice of reason, the conscience, the meanie, for Pete's sake. Mom's need to be consistent, to say "no" and to mean "no" while somehow making sure to silently communicate to your child that you are in it for the long haul, and no amount of attitude is going to make you leave this job.

Think about it... friendships are fickle and can change over time, over events, over arguments. Being a mother, on the other hand, means having your child's back always, no matter the event, the argument, or the time elapsed. Your relationship may change, but your job description does not. It is to give unconditional love, guidance and support. You are supposed to say what needs to be said, whether it makes your child happy with you, or not.

I am far from being a perfect mother. Maybe there is no such thing. But I am tired of seeing so many mother's falling down on the job. Allowing your children's basic needs to take a backseat to your own selfishness, is a tragedy. How many times have you heard someone say, "I'm doing the best I can", but you see them continue on with their selfish addictive behavior? Allowing this behavior to happen over and over again is a travesty.

I have come to believe that a person has a hard time accepting and acknowledging real love later in their life, if they were not given the basic love they deserved as a child. It remains an elusive thing to them, something they are always on the lookout for, always reaching for, almost to the point of missing the real love that is right under their nose.

Unconditional love gives a child an unseen (sometimes unknown) strength. The knowledge and feeling that they are loved, no matter what, in spite of making mistakes, is key to their sense of self. I have learned that you can love someone who is not your own, as much as you love your own, but because that unconditional love was missing in their growing up years, that love is not understood. Instead of accepting the love for what it is, love, there is always a tendency to question it. To doubt it. To back away from it. What they truly want is to experience that love from their own mother, even if, time after time, there is huge disappointment when it does not happen.

I get the "why" a child wants this. But that doesn't make me any less sad/mad about having to watch it continue to happen to people I care about. To watch a child's eyes fill with the dawning realization that it is happening to them again, that something else is once again more important to their mother's than they are. I can almost hear the silent cry....Maybe this time if my mom loves me, then everything else will be all right.

Can a mother who's addictive needs have come before the needs of her children for over twenty years, ever change? I am a realist. So, I think not. So then be a real mother and do the right thing....let them go. Before it is too late, let them go to someone else who will love them like they should be loved. Give them to a family who will put their needs first. Stop pulling them back into your world with the promise of your love, then asking to borrow money for food, or rent or bus money. Your children don't want "candy and chips" or "an X-box gaming system" --because they need a bed and some real food in the refrigerator more. No doubt the gaming system, like the i-pod and game boy which came before it, will be pawned  for cash in a week anyway. Those material goods are just "things". The real "things" your children need are love, attention, discipline, and to be led by example. Not to be shown an awful lesson in "what not to do", or a "what I don't want to become."

When bad mothers continue their selfish reign over the children who love them,  I know what does not change, the effect it has on those children. The underlying message that comes through to them is that they are not important enough, or special enough to be loved more than the alcohol or drugs or whatever addiction it is that has a hold on their mother. And so throughout everything... every decision, every choice, every opportunity the child will eventually face, the question of whether or not they are good enough, comes into play. They will question real love continuously and doubt their ability to reciprocate love. They will question their ability to be a good mother themselves, and will wonder, "Will I too, check out, when times get tough?"

I know this because I am experiencing it first hand right now. I have fallen in love with a child who lived her life without the mother she needed most. And I now know what it is like to love someone as your own, who has not yet learned to love themselves. They constantly crave love and affirmation from the one person they should have gotten it from automatically and unconditionally in the first place, their mother, the one person who is incapable of giving it.

I am one of the lucky ones. My mom did exactly what she was supposed to do. She was my mom. She didn't try to be my friend. She led by example, she had expectations for me, she showed up. That's not to say we didn't fight along the way, and there were times that I, being the oldest, took the brunt of a few hard parenting lessons learned....but, throughout it all, I knew she put me first. She loved me. She cared enough to put me in my place when I was wrong, to ground me if I needed it, to pinch that incredibly sensitive part of my underarm when I mouthed off, and to say "no" when it was required, all of which made me the person I am today.

Is it bad that I want to shout out to the bad mothers of the world? Wake up. Stop the madness. Stop the cycle. Break the chain. Do something for your children this time. Do the right thing. Let them go.

Take it from someone who once lived completely in the black and white and then took a leap of faith into the gray....If you come across a child in need, reach out to them. Who knows what one kind word, or action, could set in motion. It could be life changing for the both of you.

I know it is for me.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

50 Things I Love About You

Big Star Lake Pontoon Cruise, Summer 2010

My husband turns 50 this Saturday. In honor of this momentous occasion, I thought I would share 50 of the reasons why I love him.

Kidding. I'm kidding!  Seriously, I wouldn't do that to you.

But I would like to go on record as saying there are probably MORE than 50 reasons why this guy is my best friend and still the love of my life. 

Even after knowing him for 31 years. He is that awesome.

It feels like only yesterday a young Mike and Terri wrote sweet love notes to each other about growing old together (okay so maybe I wrote a few more than he did) and promised to love each other through the good and bad times. At that time, neither of us were aware of how fast time would fly by, and how quickly we'd be turning a milestone number like 50.

I don't even want to tell you what I thought 50 would feel like, it sounded so ancient.

Who knew that in the blink of an eye we'd no longer be thinking about growing old together, we'd actually have to acknowledge that we've arrived there?

At o-l-d. Together. And way the heck too fast.

Wasn't it only yesterday we were in college?  

Mike's hair has been gray for quite a while, he even had a little white patch at age 19 on his temple when I first met him. It just kind of ...spread out over time, until he became almost all gray. (I'll share a little secret, I think he is actually even more handsome as a gray.)

I've got gray hair, too. My stylist felt bad about plucking a big gross curly one out today when she cut my hair. (Little does she know I tweeze my grays all the time, especially the ones at my temples.)  I have done that for a while now, but I don't tell her that because she thinks it makes more grow! I never believed her, but now that gray hairs are sprouting wildly out of weird places, almost daily, I may have changed my mind.

I can no longer keep up with the plucking. And I've sworn to never dye my hair. This could get ugly. Fast.

Life happens so fast. Life with children happens even faster. Wonder if life when your children grow up and move out will be the same speed, or if it might slow down some?

Several conversations I've had lately with friends have reminded me of the fact that although I am not prepared to be this old...I do not have a moment of hesitation about who I am traveling through this journey to o-l-d with. That part of my life is solid.

I do not worry about waking up one day and thinking that Mike and I have nothing in common. I worry more that we won't have time to do all the things we planned on doing before we get too old.

They say age is just a number. And this time it happens to be the big 5-0 for Mike.

Good thing we are both still young at heart. 

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. I love you!

P.S. I think I'll start that list of 50 things I love about him now...since I have no gift planned. Oops.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Another Bullseye!

I subscribe to the Daily OM and yesterday, once again, the email I received reached out and grabbed me. How do they do that? It feels sometimes like they write to me. Maybe that is the way it is supposed to feel, that they write for the average struggling middle aged person (me).  All I know is that it often gives me goosebumps.

I'll admit it. I've been a doubter for a few weeks. A doubter in myself. Since I am not used to feeling this way, I have been in a huge funk. It all started when I let someone else's comments about me, and actions towards me, get under my skin and affect my self confidence. In case you are new here, or haven't figured this out, it did not affect me  in a good way. While I may never be convinced that this person wasn't intentionally trying to make me feel this way, I can choose to recognize my own worth and attempt to move past this. Or, make a change.

Either way, thank you Daily OM for once again begin completely relevant to me! Click here if you'd like to sign up for the Daily OM yourself. It's free. It's fantastic.
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Daily OM: Staying Afloat amidst the Spin

Taking Things Personally

Try not to take everything personally, things that people say and do don’t always have anything to do with you.

Every time you interact with others, you have the choice to listen to, acknowledge, and let go of their words, or you can take what they are saying personally. Taking things personally is often the result of perceiving a person’s actions or words as an affront or slight. In order to take something personally, you must read negative intent in an individual’s words or actions. But what people do and say has no bearing upon you and is usually based on their own experiences, emotions, and perceptions. If you attempt to take what they do or say personally, you may end up feeling hurt without reason.

If you are tempted to take a comment or action personally, creating some distance between yourself and the other person can help you. Try to determine what is at the root of your feelings. Ask yourself if the other person’s words or actions are just reinforcing some insecurity within you or if you can really be sure that an offense was intended. You may even want to ask them what they meant. Finally, put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Instead of taking their words as the truth, or as a personal affront, remember that whatever was said or done is based on their opinion and is more reflective of what is going on inside of them, rather than having anything to do with you. You may have been an easy target for someone having a bad day, and their comments may have been offered with no ill intentions.

When you recognize that what anyone says or does doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with you, you will no longer feel hurt or attacked. While it’s easy to take things personally, you should never let anyone’s perceptions or actions affect how you see yourself or your worth. Your life is personal to you, and it is up to you to influence your own value and sense of well-being.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

I'm A Dork...Bloghop Failure

I attempted to be part of my first ever bloghop today. (Leave it to me to mess up the ever important link though.) Gheesh! Can you say dork?

So on the list below... my When I Grow Up Blogpost #18 (is the mistake--it goes nowhere), #26 is the correct one. I was super excited to try this link up, because it will hopefully turn me on to some blogs by women over 45 --- and maybe direct some new readers my way! I'd like to find women in my age group who blog about similar perspectives, and experiences more in tune with what is currently happening in my life. I love to read about the exploits of little ones, it reminds me of so many happy times, but truthfully, I could use some advice from others dealing with cranky teens.

I'm feeling just a little bit like an old timer. Check out some of these blogs. There is still time for you to add your blog to the list. (If not this week, then next!)


Sunday, June 19, 2011

My 95 Year Old Grandpa Dreams Of Fishing

I began this "post" several years ago when my Grandpa Bobby was still with us, but failing fast. For a while there he was in and out of the hospital, and although pretty "with it" mentally, his body was beginning to give up the fight. He later passed away on October 1, 2009 at the age of 97. 


My Grandpa Bobby, in better times, still going strong on his 93rd birthday!

My 95 year old grandpa dreams of fishing, how cool is that? My grandpa awoke in his hospital bed, on Easter weekend, and told us of his dream.

“I can remember the place I wanted to fish (the pier in Holland), the rod I wanted to use to catch those fish, and the bait I’d need…but when I wake up I realize it was all a dream. My daughters made me give up those rods long ago and my fishing license has probably expired, so when I do go again it will be like starting all over."

This thought occurs to him as lays in the hospital bed hooked up to an IV to give his body strength while we wait on word from recent tests to see which part of his failing body is the cause of his recent visit.

It's apparent to me that he won't be doing anymore fishing, ever, yet he talks like it is a real possibility. Like driving, or living on his own are also possibilities. He hasn't driven for years of course, we had to take away his keys and his vehicle long ago. He lives in a nursing home so we had to limit the amount of money he carries in his wallet as well.  Something that makes him unhappy when he informs us that it is not enough money to buy anything, if he needs to go out.

He doesn't, of course, go out, nor could he. And he is wanting for nothing material, as my Aunt and my Mom make sure he gets what he needs, and more. But that is not the point, is it?

It must be so hard to give up that control.

What he is really asking for is, of course,  control. Control over his brain, his memory, his body, his life. I don't think I ever realized what growing really old will be like, until I watched someone else struggle through it. Back in my high school years I spent a lot of time volunteering at nursing homes, and I saw physically what it did to a body and to a person's memory, but because I only knew those people when they were already old, it didn't sink in that one day this would happen to those I love. And I would see first hand the changes, the frustrations, the struggles they would go through. Since I knew my Grandpa when he was strong, healthy and full of life, I didn't realize this growing old process would make me feel so guilty for having to sit by and watch it happen to someone I love.

My grandpa was big on going to the dentist--a luxury not everyone saved money for in that day and age---but, he always did. It wasn't really a luxury in his eyes, it was a necessity. Always proud of his teeth, when it became apparent in the last year of his life that no amount of dental work was going to keep his teeth in his mouth, he had to have felt embarrassed. His teeth simply gave up the good fight, crumbled, broke and fell out. His strong legs which had carried him proudly for many many years to fish on that pier, also had stopped working like he wanted. They stopped supporting him like they'd always done. How can you not become frustrated when that happens to you?

I'm sure he still felt like they would do, could do, what he wanted, until he tried. Which he did, time and time again, he wouldn't ask for assistance, and time and time again he fell in the bathroom, out of bed, his legs would just give out.

It had to be so hard.

I fear it will be so hard for me when that time comes. I'd like to think that I will be a bit more resigned a bit more understanding that this is the way of life, and death. But then again, maybe I won't. Maybe some part of my brain will keep thinking that I can still do all the things I want to do. As if my sheer determination will make it happen.

After all, right now in life I am telling myself that I can do whatever I want, be whatever I want to be still. My daily mantra is that I can deal with change and have already been trying to deal with giving up some control.

Maybe we are just setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment. To belive that we can do anything we set our mind to. What part about aging---is fun? Nothing. But the end of life is out there waiting for all of us. Not being a huge procrastinator, I rarely think in the wish I would have or I should have..... being a realist probably gets me into more trouble. As in, wish I would have dared to try this, or wish I hadn't been too embarrassed to try that.

I'm working on training my mind to be open to all the possibilities sitting in front of me right now. Because I realize later, those possibilities will slowly be taken from me. My plan for the future, if I have any say in it, is to grow old gracefully. With very few wish-I-would-have's. And many many good memories to dream about.

When I think of all the things my Grandpa could have dreamed of at his age, I am really glad he dreamt of fishing.

Rest in peace Bobby. You are missed.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

'Twas The Morning of Departure....

...and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.


The Rolland Family Home (aka The Cascades Guest House) in the early morning.


The Christmas poem came to mind as I waited in the quiet dawn this morning for my ride to the Montreal airport. I was sitting on the steps at the guest house of the Cascades Paper Mill in St. Jerome, Quebec. Oddly enough, I was the first one scheduled to leave, and probably the last one who really wanted to go. When I had booked the flight months ago, I was assuming that I would be anxious to get back to my family after having been gone, and that I wouldn't want to linger, so why not leave early?

What's funny is that this time, I found myself wanting the visit to be longer. And that is truly a first!

You see, while I have attended many mill specification seminars in my 23 years in paper, I have never attended one that has affected me quite like this. I came away with the expected additional knowledge of the mill, the excitement of knowing what promotions and products are to come, and the bonus of getting away from the office for a few days. But what I didn't expect to come away with, was The Paperdolls.

It may make more sense to some of you to know that my job is part of a dying breed, most specification reps have been eliminated from the paper merchant mix. Or their job functions have switched to outside sales. I am one of the fortunate, or maybe unfortunate ones, who have remained a true specification rep over time. But this is a lonely venture. Sometimes I feel like an island. We are few and far between and  it is not possible for specification reps in a geographical area to be able to communicate with one another. To share ideas and strategies. And there really is no one else in my company who does what I do.

It has always been that way---generally anyone close enough to connect with, who does what I do, is a competitor and not someone who I can bounce ideas off of.

I was fortunate enough to have been selected to attend this first ever Specification Seminar at  the Cascades Mill this week. And since it has been a good long while since I have done one of these (or have even been asked), I agreed to go. But what I did not expect from this, was to come away with a family.

I assumed that I would be touring the mill, giving opinions, learning what was to come from the mill people, and all of that did happen, but what I really got was an instant family. One who understands my frustrations, my challenges, my passion, heck, even my job! That in itself, is nothing short of awesome.

But the bonus is that these women are all around my age, and have been doing the same job that I have done for nearly as long as I have. It's been 23 straight years for me, some have been doing this for almost that long, others have taken time of to raise families or to try other things, but they've all ended up back at paper.

The combined experience and expertise of this group is almost beyond my comprehension.  And the common denominator is that we all love paper.

Instant friends. Instant support group. All with different backgrounds, families, interests and yet somehow all the same. Kindred spirits.

I did not expect to meet 6 other women who I instantly loved. While each of us have our differences, we are all of similar personality. All opinionated. All strong. All fantastic women.

Such treasures. Such a blessing for me when I needed their affirmation and support the most.

Thank you Paperdolls for having my back. For making me feel intelligent, important, well spoken, and especially for inspiring me....to be like you. I care about keeping paper in the mix. And you my lovelies, just confirmed for me, that I absolutely do know what I am talking about, that my opinions do matter and that I do have a valid viewpoint.

I wish that we had had more time together. You are good for my soul and I sense that I could learn a lot from you all. Luckily, this is the age of instant communication, and I promise we will stay in touch.

I hope The Paperdolls cross paths again--maybe this time for another passion of mine--karaoke, and wine and the ever loud conversations that seem to happen when we are all in the same room. But if not, the connection has been made. The bond has been cemented. I will never forget you.

For a person who isn't much of a traveler, my international trip to the Cascades Paper Mill was the easiest trip I have taken yet. Paperdolls... with all your beauty of body, mind and spirit, can I just say.....you ROCK!


The 7 Paperdolls (L to R)
 Beth (aka, Paper woman), Tina, Kim, Karla, Kathleen, Mimi and Me

Monday, June 13, 2011

And She's Off....

I'm off on a plane (gulp) this morning to visit the Cascades Paper mill in St. Jerome, Quebec, Canada.

Send me a little confidence, will you?

I'm not much of a traveler, definitely not a comfortable flyer, and I am a nervous nellie with all the restrictions on flights these days. It'll be just my luck that the first time I travel with a passport I will cause some kind of international incident.

Here's hoping I don't set off metal detectors or look really nervous/guilty fumbling through the security check.

You can take a razor on a plane, right? There is no way I am spending three days without shaving my legs. Nuh uh!

There's probably no chance for a glass of wine at 8 am is there?

Breathe, Terri.

Wish I had time to visit some of my canadian blogger friends while I was there!

And she's off.

How about you, do you travel well?

Saturday, June 11, 2011

A Lesson From The Tooth Fairy

I spent the day cleaning the house. Spring cleaning. Fall cleaning. Weekly cleaning, all rolled into one. I cleaned the dusty slats on the doors to the family room (can't remember the last time I did that), my own closet and dresser drawers, under the kitchen sink, the shower--even the coffee cupboard. Ick. Some of those places hadn't seen me in quite a while.


I'm really glad it was a cloudy day so I could get a lot done. It felt great to clean and dump accumulated junk. Theraputic almost.

I wondered why I had not taken the time to do it sooner?

And then I ran across this crinkled little note at the bottom of my drawer. It was from Alec when he was just a wee one, the day he lost his tooth in the shower (or so he thought).




After he had written the sweet note, and received his money from the tooth fairy, (I think she remembered that time), we found his tooth floating in the bottom of his water bottle...ick!

Finding this note in the back of my drawer made me think of how fast time flies. I realized that in the long run, although I feel better after my day of cleaning, no one really cares if I ever clean the slats on the family room doors. When I asked Mitch to help me, he couldn't even see the dust.

Hmmmn, he must have selective vision now, in addition to his selective hearing. Just like his father.

I had a brief discussion with a new friend this week. She was super stressed that her house was not in order and she was lagging behind on everything. She has younger kids at home, a successful new blog she is working on, and a few other stresses she is working through.

Having a lovely thing called perspective these days--okay I know, call it what it really is, wisdom gleaned from my advanced age--I told her not to worry. To let it go. Clean what she has to clean to feel better, but enjoy every moment. They go so fast. While a perfectly clean house might make her feel better, no one else really cares, or for that matter notices.  And if I remember correctly back to the days of young kids in the house, it got messed up about 5 minutes after it was all cleaned anyway.

What matters is the time you spend with your kids, the life lessons learned, the love that is shared in that messy house.

When the kids grow up and look back, they'll never even know that the house wasn't perfect, they'll just remember the love.

So I now realize why I haven't gotten to those "dirty" places in my house in such a long time, I'm letting it go. I've learned a little lesson via the tooth fairy, a dirty house will always be waiting for you...the kids won't.

P.S. For my friends who think that this post is b.s. because my house is always clean, I'd invite you over to really look. It's not anymore. Sure, it's picked up, things are not piled on the counter....unless my sister is around, but it is not really clean. There is too much happening around here lately that I want to enjoy and take advantage of.

Care to share a lesson you've learned? I'm all ears.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Truth Shall Set You Free

ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com     photo credit: Mike Spaulding


I am not one to be all biblical, but some sayings just stick.

I believe in honesty. I believe in telling the truth. I believe in being true to yourself. Even when it isn’t easy.

There are times when I can no longer stand the rumblings in my stomach. (No, I don’t mean hunger).

I mean stress. I mean that stomach ache that starts deep in the pit of your stomach, and won’t go away. It is there after yoga, after a glass of wine, after a good night’s sleep. It’s constant and it invades your every mood, your every thought.

It tells me that something is wrong.

So, it’s time to figure out what is really bothering me.

I ask myself…Why am I feeling this way? And then, what can I do about it?

First it requires some self examination/reevaluation. Is it me? Am I the problem? Is it guilt, is it worry, is it unhappiness? Is it something I can fix within me? Sometimes a sympathetic ear is required, usually from my husband, or a friend or my sister.

Then, it requires a c t i o n. No doubt the hardest part.

If it is something that I have done (or in many cases, not done) then I have to change/adjust/adapt to deal with it. I have already admitted that I do not like change….so this is never easy for me.

But it is even harder if the self examination determines it is someone or something else that is making my stomach ache.

Then I have to confront. Or deal. And that is waaay harder.

For me, this usually means dealing with tears—my own--because that is what happens when something affects me deep enough to make my stomach hurt. I can easily shed tears of anger, frustration, hopelessness, worry, doubt, even happiness.

And when my stomach hurts like it is right now, tears are always shimmering just under the surface.

So what is really bothering me?

My self examination has led to me to the conclusion that this time, despite the fact that there are legitimate external sources for my stomach ache, most of it is coming from within.

I am scared.

I cannot see my future.

My wise 19 year old said the same thing to me after he graduated from high school last spring. At the time I think I told him that it was normal when making a huge life change like graduating from high school and preparing to move away for college. But now I think I know what he really meant.

What you thought you wanted, what everyone expects you to do, suddenly doesn’t feel right. I think even back then his inner voice was doubting whether he had what it was going to take to actually become a veterinarian. Not competitive by nature, not a super motivated “doer”, he heard the doubts from his inner voice. It said: hold up there bud, maybe this isn’t what is best for you.

He said it again this spring when he told me he was considering switching his major from veterinary medicine to teaching, something he could see himself doing in the future. Is it the right time in light of our current economy and job market to move into teaching? Probably not. The education world is all doom and gloom, there are budget cuts and shortages and lots of bad news.

But it feels right to him. He can see his future. That is huge in itself. I give him props for having the courage to believe in his inner voice, despite what the world, and others around him are saying.

The truth shall set you free.

I’d like to think that if you stay true to yourself, and really face what is within you, you will find your drive, motivation, and inner strength. And you will be able to believe in yourself enough to make your life happen, rather than simply let it happen.

My inner voice is telling me that I currently do not have the strength, and determination necessary for the fight I see in front of me in my work life. It is the source of my stress. It is making me unhappy.

Without facing this truth, and accepting it, I know I will not find the strength to believe in myself, or to move forward.

So, let the truth fly. And please let it set me free.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Why Didn't I Know That?

Peppers eat themselves. ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com

My husband is a master of useless facts....mostly about bands & music, but about other things as well. In trivia games, he is always sought after as a partner. I guess technically they are not useless facts then...just random facts.

I was thinking the other day about things that I have learned (a lot of them from him) and thought maybe I'd share. It's not like anyone ever sits down and tells you a bunch of random things that are actually helpful in everyday life. So here is one thing he taught me that I'd like to pass along.

Peanut Butter. When using peanut butter for a recipe -- first, make sure to use a liquid measuring cup -- if you need 1 cup for the recipe, fill with water to the 1 cup line), then add your 1 cup of peanut butter until the water level moves to the 2 cup line. Drain off the water and dump peanut butter into your mixing bowl. You'll notice how easy the clean up is, a little might stick to the side of the measuring cup, but not nearly what would have without the water. Easy.

Why was I like 35 before I ever knew this?

Here are some other ideas I have picked up over the years.

Storing fresh vegetables.

First rule is don't wash the veggies until right before you need to use them. They age faster if you do. Second, did you know that you are not supposed to seal certain vegetables when you store them in ziploc bags?

Why, because they eat themselves. 

Okay, that is not the technical term for it, I am sure there is one, but that's how I describe it. So veggies, like  peppers or lettuce, once you wash them---last a lot longer if you do not seal them into a ziploc. Use a ziploc, but leave it open so they can breathe. All I know is that they last a ton longer if you don't seal them up.

Here is how I store my romaine lettuce:

Rinse each leaf, air dry in a strainer or stack between sheets of paper towel. Once partially dry---put in a ziploc baggie with one slightly wet piece of paper towel. Do not seal the bag, do not overstuff the bag. Keep in your properly set refrigerator drawer (mine has settings for vegetables or fruit). This allows your lettuce to be ready to use anytime.

Avocados. Why did no one ever tell me that you choose the softest/ripest avocados you can at the store? Then instead of having to peel the hard outer part off them (like a potato) you simply take a spoon and scoop off a chunk of the outer green shell, leaving the soft green inside ready to spoon put and into your recipe. A ripe avocado requires no chopping or dicing, just a little smashing. So much easier!

Pampered Chef garlic press is the time saver of all time savers!
Don't peel and cut up the garlic clove, use the press (I am a little bit of a garlic press snob, so I say you should only use the Pampered Chef brand...the other brands do not work as well). Using your Pampered Chef garlic press, place an unpeeled clove inside the press. You can remove the flaky dry outer shell but you don't need to peel the down to the clove.  Squeeze, and you are done!

Easy peasy and a lot less hassle than peeling the clove, smashing and cutting it up.

Do you like good ranch dressing?
The easiest way to achieve this at home is to buy the Hidden Valley Buttermilk Ranch dry packet  from the store. Then mix up the buttermilk, mayonnaise and the packet of spices. It will last for 6 weeks in the refrigerator---well, that is if it doesn't get used up before then-- and I guarantee that it will taste better than anything out of a bottle.

What tricks can you share with me? I'd love to grow my list!

Thursday, June 2, 2011

There Is Hope In My Heart

Will there finally be peace? www.ter-whenigrowup.blogspot.com

Many of you who read this blog know what has been going on with my son Mitch's relationship. It has made for one tough year in our house. In case you are new to this blog...here is the post that explains things a little more. I know that both parties in a breakup are hurting, and I do not mean to make light of a tough situation, but I believe that in the long run, toxic relationships need to come to an end. And I cannot help but feel relief, peace and a bit of happiness that progress is finally being made.


Pinch me, please.

Did I really hear the words I have been waiting to hear for so long now come out of my son's mouth tonight?

"I think I want to break up with her."

Cue the music.

Okay, it is probably completely inappropriate to do a happy dance when someone says that, isn't it?

Don't worry, I refrained.

But that is how I feel right now.

When he said he wanted to talk to me as soon as I got home, I figured he just wanted to ask again if he could see her tonite. The obligatory be-nice-to-mom conversation in hopes that it might butter me up enough so I will say yes to letting him see her this time.

But time after time I have said no, because he has not done his job as a student, his number one priority right now, and as a result I cannot allow him those kind of privileges.  It is more draining than I can even say to have those conversations.

When he said instead that he has been thinking about breaking up with her I am pretty sure I first did a head clearing shake...then, realizing I had heard correctly, had to restrain myself from jumping for joy.

This single event would eliminate so much stress from our lives. And from Mitch's life. Maybe I will get my son back again. Oh please, I have missed him soooooo much.

Mike and I took our evening walk tonite with a little pep in our step, and hope in our hearts. He asked if we should call his mom, whom he had spoken to on the phone last night, to tell her that all her prayers had  worked.

Then we immediately decided that no, we can't tell her yet. Because we have been through this before and it didn't last.What if the same thing happens again and they get back together?

We definitely need those prayers. Still.

Alec actually did a happy dance in the hall when I clued him in on what might be happening.

But the fact that there is hope, there is forward progress in this heart wrenching saga, is so freeing.

I want to do that happy dance right here and now.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

C'mon Grow Up

Big Star Lake


I hate change. Oops, did I admit that out loud?

It was my intent to embrace it this year (a New Year's Resolution of sorts), but I have to admit, I stink at accepting it.

Some changes are fabulous. Changes like a new haircut (well, on other people anyway), the weather change from winter to summer (I admit I could've used a little more "spring" this year), a pay raise (who would ever say no to that ) or a new car, are usually good changes. But some alterations to the "plan" just don't make me feel better. They make me feel cranky and out of sorts.

Most times I prefer the same old same old.

For example, I like knowing that my cottage neighbors will be there when the weather turns nicer and summer approaches, for our weekends of cards, happy hours, walks and fun. I like knowing that I will see my family more often as they come to my cottage for the water and beach. It always signals summer and that, for me, is the best time of year.

And this year I was happy and content knowing that all 3 of my kids were back under one roof and that soon, the dreaded homework pressure would finally be off for a couple of months and we could just chill.

Only what if my "plan" doesn't actually go "as planned". What if everything is different?

Would that put you in as much of a funk as it does me?

Because I am truly in a funk.

As it turns out, this year my cottage neighbors won't be back until July, my family is now loving my sister's new place on the lake and not coming to mine, Sadie is leaving our house/family in two weeks, and Mitch may have to take summer school. Not exactly what I'd hoped for.

I want things to be the way they have been. I liked them that way. I expected them to be that way. I counted on them being that way.

Instead, I have to get used to a new plan, a new way of doing things, and deal with a sense of loss that what I hoped would happen, what I counted on happening, may no longer be.

Waa waa waa.

Okay there, I just had to say it. To get it out and get over it. And to move on.

Embrace change, Terri.

C-mon grow up!

P.S. Okay who am I kidding, maybe tomorrow.