Get over it!!

Paul returned home from a 10-day business trip last night. The family went out for dinner and ice cream. We watched a movie together and gave the kids showers. We put the kids to bed then chatted about the last 10 days. This morning we had a family breakfast, went to Home Depot and the grocery store. I put Christian down for his nap then announced sheepishly that I'd like to go to the pool by myself, relax and read a book. Paul gave me a kiss goodbye and headed upstairs to fix a toilet. So, why did I feel guilty about escaping when 1 child was sleeping and 1 was helping dad do some plumbing? Neither child cried when I left. Heck, one didn't even notice. Over the last 10 days I was home to put my kids to bed 9 nights. I had a sitter 2 times. They were not exactly neglected or abandoned. I took them to the zoo, the pool, the park, and the county fair. So, what rational woman feels guilty for stealing 2.5 hours to relax poolside after doing single parent duty for 10 days? Me, apparently. Note, Paul said "bye, have fun, wear sunscreen". This crazy and unjustified guilt was entirely from within. I know men who work all week, go out for a beer after work and hit the golf course on the weekend. They don't waste a minute feeling guilty about any of this. What is their trick? How do mothers get rid of the mommy guilt? Why do we do it to ourselves? I am a stay-at-home mom who spends every day with my kids. We have family dinner most nights. My child-free excursions are the gym, monthly buncko and an occasional girls night out. Rationally, I know I'm being ridiculous feeling guilty but the mommy part of my brain still tries to tell me that I'm being selfish. Sometimes I wish my mommy brain would just keep quiet.

What's your story?

Everyone has a story. It might be an adventure tale, an inspirational tale, an entertaining story, a sad story or a story with a happy ending. No one has a real life fairy tale. No two stories are the same. The characters are different. The plots vary. Everyone wants to tell their story. Not everyone wants to hear it because they are too wrapped up in their own lives. But you should take a minute to listen to their stories. You will learn, be inspired, and challenged by the stories of others. I have learned things in the most unexpected ways from the most unexpected people. I've traveled in Asia, Europe, the Caribbean. I've had the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life. Interestingly, the people I click best with are sometimes the people I have the least in common with (on paper anyway). The most important thing I have learned? My life isn't as difficult and tragic as I like to think. My husband is gainfully employed at a job that he loves. We are happily married. We have 2 healthy children. We have good friends and family. We have a place to live.

After a lot of thought and observing other people, I've decided that the moral of my story is this: surround yourself with people you care about and who care about you. Take chances, be open to new ideas and experiences. Never judge someone at first glance. Be willing to forgive and give second chances. It will open doors for you. You will be glad you did. It will make your story a better one. It will make you a better person.

What's in a name? A lot.

Our son's middle name is James. We named him after my grandfather and favorite uncle, two of the most amazing people I've ever met. My grandfather left school at the age of 12 to help his widowed mother support the family. Through hard work and determination, he went on to become the Chairman of the Board of General Motors. My Uncle Jim married his high school sweetheart, ran a fleet of car dealerships and raised 2 amazing boys. Until the day he died, he referred to his wife as "his bride" and his eyes lit up when she entered a room. When his health prevented him from joining her on her travels, he sent her off with a hug and a kiss. Knowing her need to check in with him, he never once told her how much a ship-to-shore call really costs. (Sidebar - they cost A LOT!) He felt it was money well spent so she could have peace of mind.

If you asked either man what is the most important thing in the world to them, the answer was a quick and emphatic "family". Family always comes first. When my mom died, my grandparents, aunt and uncle were the first ones on our doorstep. They stepped in, took care of meals, arrangements, you name it. They were there for us in every way. My aunt even took on the dreaded job of cleaning out Mom's closet. She did it with a quiet grace. My entire life she has been there for me every step of the way. Not as a surrogate mom. She was always "Aunt Joan". And, let me tell you, she is an awesome Aunt Joan. My kids worship her. She flew in to surprise Sara for her First Communion. I can't remember the last time I saw Sara that excited. The idea that my aunt flew all the way from Florida to Indiana just to be with us for Sara's special day was unbelievable to Sara. To my family, that is just what family does.

If my son becomes even just a little bit of my grandfather and my uncle, he will be an amazing man, capable of anything, filled with dignity, grace, compassion and a devotion to family that is remarkable. It was a blessing to have these men in my life.

The Art of Entertaining

I figured out how to entertain and still have fun. Put your guests to work. Too often hosts are too focused on everything being "perfect". No one has fun. The hosts are stressed and cooped up in the kitchen. We had 11 family members over for dinner tonight. I spent the day shopping in Shipshewana with my sisters-in-law, niece and Sara. We had lunch, went on a buggy ride and had a great time browsing through the shops. I didn't spend all day in the kitchen cooking. Paul and I didn't want to slave in the kitchen over dinner. We wanted to mingle and spend time with our family. So, we made the brilliant decision to make dinner a super casual and communal effort. I flung place mats and silverware at people so they could set the table. I put people in charge of setting out the food and serving themselves. My dad played bartender. Sara took dessert orders and my sister-in-law served it. My aunt kept the kids entertained. Ok, mostly they chased each other around the house and she laughed. But, everyone was happy. Guess what? Our dinner party wasn't fancy. It wasn't perfect. It was fun, easy and relaxing for everyone. I'll take that kind of party over a fancy perfect one any day. We have 25 people coming tomorrow to celebrate Sara's First Communion. I hope the guests are prepared to sing for their supper. And have fun doing it. I may not make them do dishes.

First Communions, Families and Fondant

This weekend was the first of 3 First Communions for our family. When we began scheduling these events, my dad's only concern was that no two were on the same weekend. There are 3 grandkids making their First Communions and only 1 grandpa. My family is spread across every time zone. We span California, Colorado, Minnesota, Indiana, Ohio and Michigan. Between careers and after-school activities, it is hard to schedule family gatherings but we do the best we can. As my sister-in-law once observed, most of our family photos involve fishing trips, graduations, baptisms, and First Communions. Our family enjoys celebrating the important moments in a family's life together. We believe in being there for each other. My parents have always put a premium on family time. Our grandparents came for dinner every Sunday. When all 6 of us were in graduate school or college, my dad faithfully made the rounds each year to visit all of us. We came home for every holiday. He flew or drove to every graduation. He encouraged us to keep in touch with each other. When I followed my brother to college, he checked in with me weekly. My dad made sure the two of us had dinner together weekly. My parents raised us to be the same way.

My nephew made his First Communion this weekend. As always, our family showed up in full force. If you serve cake, we will come. These are not considered command performances or obligations. We show up willingly. A big family gathering with Diet Coke, cake and a deli tray? Sign us up!! For the record, my niece showed up with 4 impacted wisdom teeth and bagful of Advil to get her through. She is a trooper. I even got to have ice cream twice in one evening. First, I HAD to take my nephews out for frozen dairy treats. I'm a dutiful and loving aunt. It was my duty, right? Then my niece and sister-in-law came to town and needed a tour. Is it my fault the 2nd ice cream store was on the way back to the hotel?

I've been lucky to be very involved in my nieces' and nephews' lives. I've literally watched them grow up. I know what sports they play, what foods they hate, what sports figures they admire, and their favorite books. I love being there for their accomplishments. My nephew, who HATES getting dressed up, was very handsome and composed. (I hope he never reads this). I recognized every smirk on his face. I knew his squirms on the altar meant he was embarrassed and wanted people to stop looking at him. I knew if I kissed him, he'd wipe it off as soon as my back was turned. As soon as family photos were done, he "de-dressed" into shorts and proceeded to cartwheel (literally) around the house like a hostage freed.

Next weekend will be Sara's turn. The family will show up again and make her feel special. We even got my aunt to come in from Florida to surprise her. Family will drive the Indiana and Ohio turnpikes and survey the cornfields for miles and miles. They will do it for a deli tray and a fondant cake. They will do it for family. Because that is what families do.

Hitting the Open Road

This weekend I will be zipping across the cornfields and zooming down the turnpike to Cleveland to celebrate my nephew's First Communion. I will be flying solo. That's right - childless, footloose and fancy-free. No carseats, no back seat quarrels, no demands for snacks. I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl. I've already loaded the CD player with audio books - no Dr. Seuss or Playhouse Disney. I can listen to my radio stations, my audio books and stop for snacks and potty when I want (if at all). I will have a hotel room and bathroom all to myself. I can stay up late reading and watching TV. I even get to visit a college friend. It'll be a Thelma & Louise weekend without the shootout and tragic ending.

Once you have kids, your life is not your own. Your time, your space, and your schedule are ruled by short, cherubic people who can melt you with their sad little puppy dog eyes. The comic, Kathleen Madigan, describes them as short, homeless, and penniless little beggars. She's right. They need you to meet all their needs - food, shelter, clothing and their basic survival. It is a sacrifice parents make willingly but it's nice to escape once in a while. So, I will spend the weekend with family and friends. But, come Sunday, I will be eager to be back home with my little cherubs, even if they are begging for food.