School Pictures

Cooper has his first official school picture tomorrow. I'm so excited! I've already completed the order form. Check. I've prepped him for his school picture experience. Check, check. I should have known that things were going a little too smoothly.

Jeff, my dear sweet hubby, was supposed to "trim" his hair before school pictures. This didn't happen, of course. Cooper's hair is flying up on the sides and back and front, just like mine used to do. It's messier than messy. He also managed to split his top lip on his dinner plate (I'm not sure how), so it's slightly puffy. And, when we finally practiced his smile for school pictures tonight, he smiled so big that his eyes were at half mast in this weird squint. Keep your eyes wide open, I say. He tries, only it looks like he's a mad scientist.

I guess when he gets up tomorrow and wants to wear his brightest orange shirt, I should just go with the flow. A good mother would gently comb his hair down and hug him tight as he bounces off to school. After all, it's his first school picture, not mine. I'm not sure I'm there yet.

I guess when you get his school picture in the mail, all crazy and wild looking or perfectly quaffed and angelic, you'll know how it turned out. Keep it as a reminder. Not everything in life turns out perfect.

Life Can Really Suck

I haven't really felt like writing lately. It's nothing personal, you see. I've just sort of been in a funk. Work is stressful. There's no zen-like feeling at home. And all the other stuff in my life? Well, it just kind of feels like a whole lot of nothing. 

But a few days ago, I had a resurgence of my old self.  No explanation why. It's like the world came into focus and suddenly got its zing back. I felt happy, really happy. I started to notice again how beautiful the world was---flowers blooming, trees turning and people smiling---and it felt, if only for a moment, like I was right were I should be. 

This up and down side to my life, my personality, my womanhood, only affirms what I've always known---life can really suck. But if you stick around, it always gets better. Events unfold. People change. Time heals us. Most importantly, we are often given a chance to view the world from a different perspective. We can choose to see the distorted, negative image from inside the bell jar, or the crystal clear, fresh view looking out.

Hold your breath for awhile. Throw a fit. Lay down and have a good cry. But, whatever you do, don't give up for too many minutes, okay? There is so much goodness waiting for you, waiting for us all.

Bad Bad Girl in a Sweet Sweet World

In between getting married, starting a family, furthering my career, and having another baby, I've let my body go. It's big. It's motherly. And it's really, really out of shape. I think about my body a lot, I really do, but I never actually DO anything about it. I don't exercise. I don't refrain from eating any item on the fast food menu. I would even boast I'm at the pinnacle of my baking career, simply because I practice all the time. I have a double-chocolate scone recipe that will bring tears to your eyes when it's warm from the oven.

Then, last week happened with a major health scare. I was having some tightening in my chest on Wednesday night and then several times on Thursday. I went to the ER and then things progressed from there. When you mention chest pain, be prepared, my friends, for some serious exploratory things from weird dyes in your veins to running on a treadmill in your hospital gown. The heart is serious business.

After a million tests, it turns out my ticker is just fine. What is not fine is that fact that I have let my body get grossly out of shape with no exercise and then put every sugary item I can find in my mouth. My bad cholesterol is way high when it should be low. My good cholesterol is way low when it should be high. These are bad signs for my heart on down the road. While some is genetics, I will admit, much is related to my excesses with food and my absolute absence of exercise. Cholesterol can tell you a lot about a girl.

It took some chastising from a cardiologist, pretty expensive tests and almost 23 hours in an open gown at the hospital, BUT....I think I'm finally awake now to the damage I've been doing to my body. My eyes are open. I left the hospital depressed about the whole situation, especially the fact that I'm responsible for this mess and changes need to happen immediately. No need being sad about what is or dwelling in what could have been, I guess. It's time to just make it happen. Here's to healthier living.....for me and for you.

Let It Shine

I always thought I was destined to do something really special. As a kid, I used to imagine flying to the moon, saving a life or inventing something really terrific, like the ever-lasting gobstopper. My life could slide this way or that way, but I just had this confidence that an extraordinary event or talent would happen to me eventually.

At 10, I did do some brief modeling for House of Bargains. While it was pro bono work, of course, it did give me a glimpse of how a life under the bright lights might turn out. I imagined traveling all around the world, thin and captivating, to give people this gift of beauty. So, when the modeling work dried up shortly after my debut, I just moved on. No hurt feelings really.

In high school, it dawned on me that maybe sports might be the way to go. I played softball, basketball and ran track. Go, go, go. I even made it to the state track meet my sophomore year. One week later, I tore the ligament in my knee. It was a hard break, but that's life. I packed away the gloves, and cleats, and batons. I didn't look back either.

I pushed my way through college as fast as I could because, well, let's get real, you are more likely to find extraordinary in the real world than in college. I started my first day at a national law firm in a very sharp suit, with a very bright smile, and walked into a very big building. Do you see the importance? I also sat at very small cubicle with not a very nice boss with not a lot of input into my work. I really was a good puppet. Nothing special about that.

Kids came. Here was my chance to give something Herculean. During birth, I asked for pain medicine and then cried like a baby during the c-section because I had failed to progress. I've spanked my kids in public, I've cried alone in the garage and I've gone to a big work meeting with some kind of goo on my shoulder from morning hugs. On the rare days I've got it all in a nice, neat package, I think if I could only sustain this.....it might be special.

But today, it came to me. There is a really good chance that I will never invent something, win the lottery, touch the moon, be a celebrity, or have people recite my poems in every classroom around the country. Perhaps I don't get a special event or that extraordinary big thing in this life, but instead I get a quirky personality and a light within that radiates to others. Special might be making people laugh. Being kind, or loyal, or loving. It might even be all those big mistakes I've made along the way that I thought made me really unlovable. It somehow also made me approachable.

So, I guess I feel good about that kind of special. No big headlines, you see, just a dogged determination to keep plugging away at those big, ugly, hot stage lights in my life. Those moments can be wonderful, too. Let it shine, let it shine.

Elvis Loved His Mama

I'm not much of a traveler. With two small kids, a husband that works weekends, and a budget so tight it squeaks, traveling is a luxury. But to my surprise, all the stars aligned and I arrived in Memphis on Monday with eight-women from my book club, varying in ages, all ready to experience some rock and roll. It was an adventure.

I didn't know much about Memphis. Well, I knew it was in Tennessee. I knew it was once home to Elvis. I also thought it might be kind of hot in July. All true. In some ways, Memphis is something extra special. In other ways, it scares me.

The best part about traveling is that you get to experience it all for yourself. I'm not sure if you've been or if you'll ever go, but here's a few trip highlights. Go ahead. Soak 'em in.

1. Beale Street, the place of all food, music and debauchery, is pronounced "Bill" street by locals. It's fantastic all lit up. Every stop had amazing musicians that dazzled me.

2. The bus tour was really needed, if you want a good history lesson about music in Memphis. Sun Records. Stax. Sam Phillips. Did you know that Elvis and his mama lived in government housing and only two blocks away was BB King's home? All on the same street, all at the same time.

3. Panhandling is an art form in Memphis. Kids, adults and crack heads all want your money, or your cigarettes, or your soul. They will steal it, if you let your guard down.

4. The lottery is not just for winning millions. Apparently, Memphis loves the Broadway production of "Wicked" enough to pull names each night for a $25 ticket in the front row. Sign up, wait 15 minutes and pay with cash if they call your name. Twenty lucky winners, including me. It was the best show I have ever seen. Thank you, Memphis!

5. Good food can be found at a place with a really pretty, ornate sign out front. GREAT food is in a dive so bad that you start questioning the legitimacy of health inspectors.

6. Priceline works. $160 a night hotel for only $80. Grab that deal.

7. Trolley systems are still transporting people down Main Street. For only $1, you can rest your feet and soak up some history.

8. Cotton was huge in Memphis because of the river. There are all different grades of cotton from pure white to gray. Cotton is so big, they still hold an annual parade with a cotton queen.

9. If you want to survive in the tourist industry in Memphis, you must be an entertainer. It doesn't matter if you're singing, waiting tables or cleaning the floor, people with personality are the only ones that make it. Find yours.

10. I love me some Elvis. I love me some Johnny Cash. I wish I had known them when they were young and hungry for music in Memphis. It must have been so exciting. Being rich and famous will kill you. It's too much pressure for one small soul.

And, my last lesson in Memphis.....when I was taking a photo of the historic First Baptist Church building, which is only a block away from the famous Beale street, a man stood up from the stairs and started unbuttoning his pants while I was snapping a photo of the sign.

"I got something free for you, girl. You want my picture," he says. "Girl, girl....where you goin'. I said I got something for you."

It felt good to visit, it really did, but I wasn't tempted to stay (even with all that free stuff that nice young man at the church was giving away). Amidst all that solicitation, and rocking and rolling, and great food, Memphis is really a happening place. It's alive. Enjoy at your own risk.

Live, Love, Learn

Life frazzles me. I often feel like the worst mother in the world and then, something happens to solidify my title as the baddest mama on the block. If you must know, I often hold this title for weeks at a time.

For instance, just last Friday, as I was running around the house like a mad woman, I gave Tuck (our two year old) my hormone pill instead of his daily allergy pill. It was so hectic around me that I didn't even realize it until I noticed something white on his tongue. His pills are pink. I put my whole finger in his mouth, poked around, trying to swipe it out. No luck.

I panicked. I started to hyperventilate. I had my brother-in-law count all my hormone pills, TWICE, just to make sure this wasn't all a dream. No dream and one pill missing. I frantically call the doctor to find out that, other than a regular period and possibly some sore breasts, Tuck is going to be fine. In fact, I can go ahead and pop the allergy pill in his mouth, too.

For the rest of the night, my hubby makes transvestite jokes about our son. It's funny (kind of). When I finally calm down though, I start to realize that the speed of my life is causing huge mistakes. I mess up all the time. I guess I'm okay with screwing up my own life, but my kids are something else. Small. Powerless. Eager for love. I want something better for them.

But I realized tonight, that I'm a kid of somebody, too. I may be small, powerless and eager for love when I'm down, but someone wants something better for me. I'm loved unconditionally, mistakes and all, whether I choose to accept it or not. It might just be better to let it in, don't you think?

It's a World of Pure Imagination

I've always had an active imagination. Lately, however, it's turning out to be more of a problem than a fun, creative personality trait. Ever since my body started falling apart at the age of 30, my mind has been in overdrive.

A pain on the lower left side. Ovarian cyst. Three sneezes in a row. Swine flu. Dizziness right before a meal. Diabetes. Ugly mole on by butt. Skin cancer.

It would be comical, except it's absolutely true. I've started obsessing over minor aches and pains. It has to be something bigger, something worse. Instead of having a doctor confirm that I'm fine physically (a tad crazy mentally, of course), I starting researching all these symptoms online. I just Google it, forgoing any official medical site. You can imagine what pops up. You got it......I am one sick puppy!

I wish I had never read the article that said after the age of 28, your body and health start to decline. Before I had time to shut the magazine, I was older. I'm older just writing this and, honestly, it pains me. I'm young, but already fearful of growing older with all the ailments that come with it. I'm afraid of being sick. I'm afraid of pain. I'm afraid I might die young, or old, or without my consent. I'm afraid of the not knowing all there is to know.

I am absolutely frozen surrounded by all this fear. I'm stuck. Sadly, I know I'm not the only one.

How do we stop measuring our life by the number of years and start counting the worthwhile moments? When do we realize that a great tragedy (a chronic illness, divorce, loss of a loved one) can turn into a triumph when we come out stronger, more aware of the world? How do we turn off the screeching voice of worry?

If you find the answers, could you drop me a quick line? You're the best.