Grand Memories

Over a decade ago, some friends of mine from college and I, decided to try a little experiment. We were in our late thirties and we had well-established families. We all had at least three kids (my family had the biggest family, consisting of four children). We thought that it could be neat and fun, to attempt a shared family vacation. We imagined renting a huge, rambling beach house, taking turns making meals, picking restaurants, sharing laughs, fun, memories and getting a slowed-down chance to really get to know each other’s babies and husbands, a little bit better. Going into it, I knew that this particular trip was either going to be absolutely fantastic or extremely hellish, nothing in between. Our family was accustomed to taking our own private family trips. We already always had enough chaos going on between the six of us. I couldn’t fully fathom what adding eight more adults and twelve more kids into the mix, was going to bring, other than knowing that it would be either exponentially great or exponentially horrible. It turns out that the trip was FABULOUS! Exponentially.

We had such an amazing time. My favorite memory of that long ago get-together, is all twenty-six of us, combing the beach at night, with head lamps and flashlights and buckets, foraging for night crabs. Some of us got cut by pincers (probably deservedly) and some of us were never agile enough to catch a crab (me and some of the babies), but the merriment, the excitement, and the in-the-moment joyousness of the event is something that I will never, ever forget. The kooky babysitters who we hired, making shell and sea grass jewelry with the young ladies of the group, my friend who grew up in Baltimore teaching us the proper way to truly get your money’s worth out of getting all of the meat (and I mean ALL) out of a boiled crab, and the early morning jaunts to the decadent doughnut shop, are all part of a wonderful collection of recollections, that are kept in a treasured, safe corner of my still solid memory bank. The evening card games ended each night in hilarity (and even some tension), as all of us adults were a little more hyper-competitive than any of us ever wanted to admit. Then, even later into the night, one of us couples would steal off into the night, climbing the dunes, under the romantic moonlight, knowing that our babies were safe and sound, with trusted, loving friends. It was a beautiful experience. The only negative thing that I brought back from that trip was that one of my friends introduced my children to peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches. I was never able to avoid the jars of marshmallow fluff at the grocery store after that trip, without all of my children chorusing together, in loud begging and whining tones, for us to purchase at least one jar. My house was forever-filled with extremely sticky, dirty fingerprints after that vacation. And it was totally worth it.

Unfortunately, we were never really able to completely recapture that multi-family beach experience again. The following years included the recession, out of state moves, marriage break-ups, friendship shake-ups, and the inevitable over-taxed schedules of maturing families. Our family, having the eldest of the children and having been the ones who moved the furthest away, was never able to be part of some of the smaller get-togethers that happened after that wonderful inaugural event. So, earlier this month, when one of my girlfriends offered up her house, for a New Year’s Eve reunion of this wonderful group of friends and our families, we jumped on it! The kids are all older now, mostly in their late years of high school and college. Only my two youngest kids will be coming along on the trip with my husband and I, this go around. Some of the other kids of the group have to stay home for work obligations, as well. Us parents have a few more wrinkles and a lot more gray hair (and in some cases, less hair) than we had on that long-ago beach trip, over ten years ago. Still, I no longer have to question which way this trip is going to go. This time, I already know that it is going to be fabulous, and I have an empty vault in my memory bank, just waiting to be filled up with the best treasures of all – grand memories, the kind of memories that make up a person’s life.

Soul Sunday

(shhhh. Let’s do our poetry thing today, like we do every Sunday. Let’s not just read each other’s words. Let’s feel them.)

GODSPEED

As a mama, I’ve been practicing the art

of letting go

From the moment you were born.

The little good-byes . . . .

A tender kiss goodnight,

As I placed you in your crib.

The brave wave,

At the door of the preschool.

Your first sleepover,

Your first camp weekend,

Your first school trip, out of state,

Your first year at college,

Your study abroad experience,

Your college graduation,

Leading you to your adult life.

A grand adventure, for sure.

I found you little red curls from your first haircut,

the other day.

They were so tiny, and silky, and new.

I tucked them away, like I do with so many of my memories,

and my emotions, which are large and coarse and timeless.

I don’t want to make you feel lonely or sad or scared,

when we do another good-bye at the airport today.

I’m proud that we have both done what we are supposed to do.

Me, relinquishing, proudly. (bravely)

You, going on with your journey. (confidently)

Both of us. (courageous and bold and loved)

What a Mess!

“One Of The Most Glorious Messes In The World Is The Mess Created In The Living Room On Christmas Day. Don’t Clean It Up Too Quickly.” — Andy Rooney

I’m out here, at my desk. The Christmas Tree is behind me in the foyer. Santa brought a lot of presents and they are all tucked under the tree, just buzzing to be opened. Now that my kids’ ages span 15-23, a little role reversal has happened. My husband and I are up and giddy, waiting for the kids to wake up. We have the dogs in an excited state. Maybe I can get Ralphie to go rouse the kids.

I am thinking of all of you. May all of the good, bright, wonderful things about Christmas be yours today. The pastor last night talked about how darkness and light cannot coexist. When light is let in, darkness disappears. May your Christmas be as light and as bright, as any Christmas that you have ever experienced! Merry, merry Christmas, my readers, my friends, my fellow journeyers! (and excited children at heart – GO HAVE FUN! Stay in the light!!!)

“Were I A Philosopher, I Should Write A Philosophy Of Toys, Showing That Nothing Else In Life Need To Be Taken Seriously, And That Christmas Day In The Company Of Children Is One Of The Few Occasions On Which Men Become Entirely Alive.” — Robert Lynd

This Is Us

My husband’s colleague texted him from another state. He and his family are staying with their extended family this week for Christmas. He said that the house is crazy and chaotic, full of kids and dogs. He told my husband that it must be like living with our family.

We started having kids less than two years after we were married. We had four children in the span of eight years and we’ve always had at least two dogs and other pets, in the mix, throughout the years. This past fall has been strange and surreal, with it being just my husband, myself and my daughter at home, with the two fur babies, who are at least, out of their puppy stage (sort of) .

The three of us have become accustomed to a fair amount of “quiet”, only having to go to the grocery store once a week, laundry always being clean and hung up, and jugs of milk actually going sour before we drank/used it all. I better understand now, why people have always said to me, “I don’t know how you do/did it.” With the college boys home the last week or so, and the grown son coming home tonight, the quiet moments are sparse, the grocery runs are daily, the stinky laundry is piling up at a monumental rate and we’ve run out of milk more than once, already. We are all whizzing around in different directions and it is hard to keep up with everyone’s comings and goings, as hard as I try. The dogs have seemed to pick up on this whirling energy and they are behaving like two furry toddlers, way too hopped up on sugar. It is chaotic. It is crazy. And it is love. It is us. This is us. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Soul Sunday

Sundays are all about the rhymes. Soul Sundays are poetry workshop days here at Adulting – Second Half. Let’s have fun with this! Please share your poems, your poetry, your songs, your raps, your ditties. Here’s my goofy one today:

My Little Old Mug

Oh my little mug

I wish I could give you a hug

For all of the pleasure that you’ve given me.

Instead I must throw you out

Since I’m always spouting about

Not becoming a hoarder.

My daughter pointed out your age and your cracking

Which means your drink holding ability is lacking

And there is really no point in keeping you.

As the family chimed in, about my reminding them of expiration dates,

Handing them Goodwill bags to fill, giving their old things new fates,

I just couldn’t be hypocritical.

Little mug, I considered hiding you away

To sneak you out on a “by myself” day,

But my conscious just wouldn’t let me do it.

Thank you for your service and for the joy that you brought me,

Your humor, your size, your years of holding my coffee

Perhaps you are truly ready for mug heaven.

(or the back hidden corner of the cupboard which no one uses – see you soon!)

Pit Stop

My middle son leads quite the interesting life. He is always busy. He has been busy since the day he was born. My son wants to go to medical school. Earlier this week he shadowed a urologist doing seven different surgeries. He texted the family, that he held a person’s kidney in his own hands, for the first time. He was so excited. My daughter and I tried to keep our dinners down, as he described, in vivid detail the different surgeries that he had observed, involving the kind of anatomy that urologists care for, in their line of work. When I glanced at my husband, a few times, I noticed that he had a greenish hue about him. There was a lot of leftovers left on our plates that night. I have a sense that I already know more than I have ever wanted to know about surgeries, and we’ve only just begun on this journey. It’s kind of like having a relative who is a pilot (I have a couple of those) or in law enforcement or in the military or even the restaurant industry. Ignorance is bliss. I believe that statement to the very bottom of my soul. But I never want to squelch anyone’s zest for life and I am one of those people whom other people love to tell their stories. I am very open and curious, sometimes to my own detriment.

I just had a quick chat with this same son this morning, as he was headed out the door to play an early morning alumni soccer game with previous coaches and players from his alma mater high school. He mentioned that he was going to an ugly Christmas sweater party tonight and then he talked about the Ferrari and the Rolls Royce that he drove last night. He is a valet during the summer and his company allows him to take on some jobs during his college breaks, to make extra money. Since cars are one of his passions, the tips that he gets are the icing on the cake. Being a valet is a dream job for him. (And if you are as curious as I am, the Ferrari driver and the Rolls driver both gave him a twenty each.)

I love that I have reached the stage of life where I am mostly now just a sideline cheerleader, an awestruck observer, and sometimes a student who is mostly just inspired by and thrilled for, my almost grown children. If you want to stick to the car analogy, it’s like I’ve done my job, helping to build the machines and now I am just eager to see what they can do. Occasionally the machines come roaring back for a pit stop or to get recalibrated and restored by us, their pit crew, but then they head roaring off again, at a clip pace to their lives’ destinations. I just sit in my overalls, holding my wrench, with a little grease on my forehead, and I shake my head in utter amazement. Then I turn inward, and I realize that it is time to put more of that fine-tuning focus on my own little machine, on that cute, little, jumpy car that I call “me.” I get out my tool box (my tools have pink handles, but they are solid and steely and strong) and I get to work.

Sausage Friday!

The perfect pack of sausages! Owner Liam Beach lined up the 17 sausage dogs. From top, left to right: Buster, Daisy, Ziggy, Wallie, Zac, Bonnie, Saffie, Duke, Diamond, Ruby, Kizzy Sammy, Kandy, Kiki, Lottie, Benji and Dudley

Happy Friday!!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!! A man in England got his 17 dachshunds to pose for this picture. He also has a Labrador retriever, but that dog would not cooperate. As someone who lives with a big old goofy lab, I understand. This picture just put a smile on my face and a giggle in my heart. New readers, Fridays are fun and fabulous here at Adulting – Second Half. Nothing is taken too seriously here on Fridays. Fridays are only for serious fun. On Fridays, I typically list three favorite household items, beauty products, songs, websites, pet products, etc. that just put the sizzle in my swizzle. I strongly encourage you to mention your own favorites, so that we can keep this economy humming along.

Mandalorian – My husband and I are old-school Star Wars fans. We remember when the first Star Wars came out in theaters (1977, baby!). Truthfully, we were sort of disappointed when Disney bought the Star Wars franchise. However, our college boys insisted that we give the Mandalorian (Disney Plus TV Series) a look, and now, we have surpassed the boys by watching all of the episodes available (and we eagerly await more). One look at Baby Yoda, and you are hooked. Baby Yoda is a cross between an adorable baby, and a precious puppy, even though he is green. (kind of like Baby-Monkey-Puppy, but actually cute) The Mandalorian is fascinating. I keep wondering how I can read the emotions of a metal-helmeted man, whose face is never shown. Give the series a look and may the force be with you!

Orville Peck – Speaking of masked men, check out the music of Orville Peck, which is a pseudonym for a gay, masked country singer, who nobody really knows who the real man is, but that doesn’t really matter. His music, is old-timey, haunting Western style and his voice is mesmerizing. At the beginning of each of his songs, you expect the Lone Ranger to appear in your living room. Fascinating and unique and certainly worth a listen!

McDonalds Star Wars Happy Meal Prizes – Getting back to Star Wars, my regular readers know that I had a Christmas feast with one of my favorite friends this week, which included McDonalds Happy Meals. The prize in the meal was so cool, that my little flower insisted that she was going to hang it on her book bag to show it off. I thought that the prize was so neat that I drove back down to McDonalds and bought these prizes for my big kids at home. (you can buy the prizes separately from the food, $2 each) The Star Wars Happy Meal prizes are keychains, depicting the classic Star Wars characters, with a little button that makes a hologram show up, much like how the Star Wars characters communicate in the movies. These prizes are a big upgrade from Cracker Jack trinkets, I am telling you. They would make for fun stocking stuffers for the kids of all ages, in your lives.

Have a fabulous Friday!! Have a glorious Holiday Week!! I will post every single day during the holidays. I’m here for you, friends!!

Image result for baby yoda meme

Too Weird

Image

So, the above is a tweet from Think Smarter, which those of you who are my regular readers, know is one of my favorite and most oft-quoted Twitter feeds. This tweet has been posted on Think Smarter, at least three times. Honestly, I have always related to it, but I felt too shy or vulnerable to admit to you readers that I relate to it. The fact that it has been repeated so often on the Think Smarter feed and already, this current posting of it has 265 retweets and 780 likes, tells me there are quite a few people who sometimes feel like weird, passionate loners. So, maybe we are not the “loners” who we think we are, in this confusing world. Being honest and vulnerable with others, or at the very least, with yourself, is a brave and a beautiful thing. The level of intimacy you feel is one of the most “alive” and vibrant feelings that there is in this world. Unfortunately, our modern way of going about life, encourages us to numb out, in one form or another, putting on layers of masks and performances and then looking for something outside of ourselves, to fill the hole. We miss so much when we do that. Just for today, allow yourself to be as open and honest and real as you have ever been, even if it is just with yourself, your “one man wolf pack.” Sit with that vulnerability and rawness. Cry, laugh, scream, whatever – feel all of your feelings, and sense where your feelings are experienced in your body. In short, give yourself permission to fully experience being totally and unguarded-ly, alive. My guess is, that instead falling back to your go-to of routinely “dulling out”, you’ll be attracted to coming back to the vulnerability. You’ll repeat it, like Think Smarter keeps repeating the above post.


“How beautiful it is when one lives completely and not with just a part of oneself. When one is full to the rim and calm because there is nothing more to get in.”
― Erich Maria Remarque

  “I feel therefore I am.”
― Amit Abraham

Image result for zach galifianakis pack of wolves gif

Game On

My son was almost arrested a few days ago. He had only been home from college for about a day and a half. He is an excellent student and he attends a prestigious university. He was with three other friends, with the same kind of pedigrees. It was in the middle of the day. What was his offense? He and his friends were visiting their previous high school teachers and coaches. Despite being what would be called “distinguished alumni”, they are never allowed on the school property again, for the rest of their lives. Why? They entered the school through the back teachers’ gate (on advice from a former teacher). My son and his friends were technically “trespassing” and in today’s world, that is a serious, serious offense.

My daughter is a sophomore, at that same high school. Every day that I drop her off at school, I anxiously scan the crowd going into the high school, trying to get a feel for the energy of the kids and of the other people entering the school, each day. I say a little prayer for everyone’s safety (I’m pretty sure that I am not the only parent who does this) and I wave to the school officer, the same officer who almost arrested my son. Earlier in the school year, I thanked the lead school police officer for making me feel safe, and for giving an aura of calm and authority, to all who enter the school.

My feelings are very conflicted on this entire situation. The police officer acknowledged that my son and his friends are “good kids”. He knows that I volunteer every week at the high school, as I wave to him as I head into the office, to mentor my student. These are some of the reasons why the school police officer gave my son and his friends “a break.” By banning them from school property forever, they got off lightly. They won’t have arrests on their records. The officer assured me that he will probably have to do a lot of explaining as to why he didn’t arrest them for trespassing. Their principal was in tears, begging the officer not to arrest this group of kids, all who had been in the top ten of their graduating class, this past spring. But ever since the horrific Majory Stoneman Douglas massacre, that occurred right here in Florida, the laws are incredibly strict. And as a mother of a student at the high school, I am grateful for this fact.

I have been letting this situation churn inside of me for several days now. It has been unsettling and upsetting, to say the least. My son played basketball for the school, but he is never allowed to attend one of their basketball games again. His friend, a former baseball player, can never go on to the baseball fields. My son will never be able to pick up my daughter from school, for me, nor will he be able to attend one of her high school tennis matches. The teacher who texted the kids to use the back gate, has taught students for years on end. His students consistently have the highest passing rate for the AP Calculus exams, in the entire county, sometimes even in the state. Nonetheless, he is in serious trouble and he may lose his job.

The kids were wrong. The teacher was wrong. The rules are in place for a very good reason. I think that the biggest pit in my stomach lies in the fact that this is a prime example of where we are, in today’s world. This is what it has all come to, and I despise it. For the sake of our children and for our grandchildren and for all future generations to come, we need to change the direction that we are headed in, and we need to find a way to come to a common ground that makes sense for the greater good of our society. Politics, partisanship, superiority, sensationalism and hate, have proven to do nothing for this problem, except to make matters more divisive than ever. We need to wake up.

I wish that I had the answers. I don’t. But I believe that a Higher Good has the answer and if we make it a priority as a WHOLE, to feel in our hearts, our intuitions, and in the deepest parts of our souls, what the right answers are, we can then take loving, tangible steps towards the greater healing of our collective hearts, and of our unified minds. We need to stop living in fear and judgment. We need to stop being narrow-minded and righteous, seeing anyone who doesn’t see things as we do, as the enemy. We need to visualize this problem, as if our entire society was stuck on an elevator car, which is hanging by a loose cable that is about to break, and is about to come crashing down. We need to work together, feverishly, to find an answer to our violence problem. We need to do this, as if our lives depended on it. Because they do. We need to look upon each other as bright, hopeful, capable, sincere people who only want the best for our families, for our friends, for our communities, for our country, and for our society. We need to stop playing coy games. The real game is on, and it is CRUCIAL that we all play on the same team, against the evil that is taking us down.

Soul Sunday

Poetry workshop day. Please share the love/the feels/the words that try to convey the love/the feels. Here’s mine:

Nostalgia

Giggling about a Sesame Street video with my friends . . . .

When I’m approaching fifty.

Driving past the houses with their Christmas joy on parade . . .

With my son driving the car, this time.

Putting up the ornaments reminding me of people, places and pets . . .

Many, who have long passed on.

Trying to recognize the child’s face from a long ago play group . . .

In the Christmas card picture of a lovely young lady, dressed in a wedding gown.

Trying to find just the right thing to eat . . .

to soothe the funny swirl of feelings, aching around in my insides.

The longing that I am pulled to, yet try to avoid, all at the same time . . . .

Nostalgia.