A thank you note to my mother-in-law

When someone passes away, I think it's only natural to
wonder what words went unsaid or what feelings went unexpressed.  My mother in law, Lynda, passed away suddenly and I feel fortunate to not have that wonder.  A few summers ago, she and I spent a great deal of time together one on one.  It was an unexpected closeness I felt for this woman I hadn't really gotten to know - I learned so much about her, her views, her family history. It was during this time that she was recovering from a broken ankle and trying to move past some dizzy spells so she was in a very vulnerable position.  During one of our visits in her apartment, I thanked her.  She looked at me with surprise and curiosity.  I told her I appreciated the husband she'd given me.  I told her that I appreciated her teaching her son to treat his wife with respect.  I thanked her for teaching him responsibility and determination.  I told her that I'm grateful that he was raised by a single mom because he learned things organically that you can't make up - he learned to do laundry, he learned to do dishes (without a dishwasher), he worked through high school and college, he learned to cook.  I'm not saying my husband doesn't give me enough material to fill a suggestion box, but I'm focusing on that for which I am thankful!  I'm glad I told her these things when I was thinking them because I could tell the words meant a lot to her.  I hope I'm raising my son to one day be a good husband and father also.  If he decides to be neither, I'll settle for a kind human being.

Rest in peace Lynda, you've certainly earned it.  I send you much love and gratitude.

To Creep or Not to Creep...

My first job was teaching cheering part time at a summer camp.  My sister got me the job within the daycare/preschool she had already worked with for several years prior.  Every summer, she handled the summer camp that was on location offsite.  It was a great job and at sixteen, I got attached very quickly with the majority of the kids in attendance.  I say the majority because some were there full time and some weren't.  I stayed on subsequent summers helping with the camp in cheering and counseling capacities and this led into me working at the main center on the weekends and holidays.  Once I graduated from high school, I worked there part time through college and eventually became the camp coordinator myself as well as teaching a few classrooms of my own.  My point in this ramble down memory lane is that over the course of some pretty formative years of my own (high school, college, engagement, and marrying my hubby) I grew to know hundreds of kids both at a distance and pretty well.  I worked at the center for seven years all told and during this time I saw these kids as more than just a job.  I would venture to say that I'm not alone among other teachers or care providers in getting attached to the kids for which you give care.  You are with these children from early morning until sometimes dinner and beyond.  If you were like me (and my sister), you socialized with these families - you babysat for them for weeks at a time when their parents traveled - you knew how to console them or what they were sensitive about.  It was always a little weird for me when I would run into families that didn't remember my name (obviously not the ones I babysat for) but I knew their child so well and the child knew me.  I would always throw them a bone by re-introducing myself all the while being totally offended that these people entrusted me with their child for 40+ hours a week but couldn't bother to learn my name.
Which leads me to the topic/question at hand... To Creep or Not to Creep??  That is the question.  With modern times and Facebook connections, It's so hard not to friend the kids that I used to spend so much time with.  I love knowing how they are, where they are (or have gone) to college, if they are married or have kids (yes it was that long ago!).  For the most part they don't remember me - some do if I babysat them a lot - and I wouldn't weird them out by "friending" them.  There have been a couple that I have done that with but that's if they are already friends with a niece or nephew or if my sister has gone out on that limb first :).  I'd love to hear from other teachers/child care providers that have run into the same dilemma... how do you just let go of the wonder?

Hi... My name is Stephanie M. and I'm an...

Addict!  I have such an addictive personality - I admit it.  I come by it honestly as it's genetic.  I get addicted to cleaning (yes, cleaning); I'm an addictive eater; I'm an addictive writer; I'm an addictive reader; I even exercise compulsively!  It's a crazy thing to say this is an issue when it's not drugs or alcohol (even though compulsive overeating ain't no joke but I digress).  But it is an issue.  I never really do things in small doses.  I have to fight my inner impulses to overdo and it's a total struggle!  When I help someone with a project - I want to take over and do it myself.  When I help my son with a costume for Halloween - it kills me to tone it down because he has no need to be the best.  When I clean my house - it's so annoying that I can't keep it clean or get it cleaner.  When I volunteer for something, I have to fight back the need to to volunteer for everything!
To those of you who know me, you most likely know my mom.  She is the person that you want on your picket line or committee and especially in your corner.  She does not do anything in moderation and it's why so many people in her life turn to her when they need something done right.  That being said - she's an addict too (sorry Mom :).  When she likes a pair of shoes, she buys it in five colors.  When she likes a bag, she gets every pattern made.  When she helps with an event, she ends up chairing it.  When she likes a recipe, she makes it for everyone she knows.  I'll write about how this has helped both of us another time but for right now - there's a point...

My son loves to read also... heaven help him - he gets addiction from both gene pools

The point is that I have added a new addiction to my long list - Books!  My husband is the culprit.  He is such an avid reader but reads so much faster than I do - he comes home with a stack of books from the library each time he goes.  It used to annoy me that he could just plow through them so quickly but then I decided if I couldn't beat him, join him.  Remember what I said about nothing in moderation - you see where this is going.  The ladies in my book club aren't much help either.  They are amazingly well read ladies who make recommendations all the time and I have to stop the madness!!  I subscribed to Goodreads.com (which I totally recommend) and have been adding to my list of "to read" non-stop.  Between my goodreads app, my local library app (where I can put books on hold instantly), and my kindle - the flames of addiction are growing!  During a book club meeting a few months ago, I did have the strength to say "no" when the hostess offered me a book to take home that she recommended - I admitted to her that I was a book addict and I had to draw the line - the first step is acknowledging there is a problem so I think I'm on the right track.

Another Year...

Every year when I celebrate my birthday, I can't help but think of my age... the number. I don't feel like it's old or anything, but I think of where my mom was in her life when she was my age or how old I thought my relatives were when they were my age. I think about my childhood/high school friends who had birthdays within a few weeks of me and celebrating our 16th and 18th birthdays together and here we are decades later which is so hard to believe. I reflect on other birthdays and try to put myself back in that moment in time. Putting myself in my childhood downstairs bathroom for my 12th birthday when my sisters made me play spin the bottle with a boy down the street and them timing our kiss in front of the bathroom mirror. During my 10th birthday, which was a snow day, putting my new dollhouse together and seeing the Challenger explode on TV with my sister Michelle. Being set up on a surprise blind date on my 18th birthday which wasn't so fun. Having a surprise 16th birthday party thrown for me by a friend and loving all of the attention because the boy I liked was there. Being toasted by my husband's fraternity brothers in their chapter hall for my 21st birthday. Visiting my grandfather in the V.A. hospital for my 5th birthday and getting ballerina Barbie. Celebrating my 30th birthday with my friends and family having the ladies in my family all chip in to make it memorable. Falling in the snow and stumbling (a drunken mess) for my 28th birthday and my son cracking up at mommy because he thought I was trying to be funny (I was driven there and back BTW) - I believe this was also the birthday that I called my father and thanked him for fertilizing my mother's egg to create me... I'm kind of a happy drunk.

The older I get, some things become different and some remain constant. I am not so concerned about presents and don't really need a birthday cake anymore. I do love the reminder that I am surrounded by some thoughtful and loving people. Over the past year or so, I lost sight of that a little (or was distracted from that) but I'm back focused again.  Whether you are reading this as a stranger or my friend or my family, thanks for being a part of this year's memories.

My mom and I on my 20th Birthday...

Meals on Wheels

Right after the holiday, I wanted to do a little something to step outside of myself. I dragged my son along with me and a teenage neighbor. On a rainy, icy day we drove down to our local Meals on Wheels center. I planned to drive but when we arrived, that's not where they needed help. I'm actually pretty grateful for the turn of events because we were able to instead help pack coolers and deliver to cars as they pulled up. This center was a well oiled machine of volunteers and few paid workers. There were several folks who had obviously been doing this for a while and had it down to a science. Even though newbies can slow down the flow, they were so welcoming to us and patient in explaining the science behind why they do things the way they do. Meals are stacked in the coolers in a particular way based upon the route and recipients. Checklists, numbered paddles, particular coolers, allergy restrictions, small meals, large meals, snacks - it's all so controlled. I look forward to helping again and knowing where the meals come from (even though there is a whole other working process at the food bank before it comes to the center) if I do drive a route, next time this info will be very pertinent.

One of the gentlemen we met - Jim - was such a character. He goes to the MOW center every morning and is a huge Green Bay Packers fan. Quintessentially grandfatherly, he enjoyed talking about the landmarks of Richmond he grew up with and how much it's changed. He also enjoyed talking to the boys about the Packers and how they are now "America's Team" taking the place of the Cowboys (his opinion - not mine :). He was such a sweet guy and you could tell he really enjoyed the company. People have different motivations for volunteering. I volunteer to remind myself that there is a big world that has nothing to do with my 'issues.' My mother volunteers to give back and be an advocate for what she believes in. Jim volunteers (from my observation) because it's his way of giving back to an organization who has given a lot to him and a nice social outlet. Some people may volunteer because of requirements through school or work. Whatever the reason, there are so many organizations that need help and manpower. Some are really involved and I know kind of a pain to get started with but some (like Meals on Wheels) accept people off the street with open arms and gratitude.

LeChayim!

That would be a Hebrew phrase meaning "To Life!" to us gentiles. I threw a lot of folks in my life for a loop this December when I announced I wanted to celebrate Hanukkah as well as Christmas. The two obviously contradict each other but the observer in me wanted to learn more about the eight day celebration and what better way than to jump in with both feet? My original thought was that my household would celebrate but that's not exactly how it panned out. I reached out to a Jewish friend to ask where I should start and she was gracious enough to lend me some teaching tools she uses to help friends of her children understand the holiday. So began my quest...

I decided I would buy a menorah instead of using hers. I wanted to have the option of celebrating again if so desired and also wanted to see what it was like to try and find things for Hanukkah in the stores - which wasn't in abundance FYI.

I began to collect small gifts to give my son for the eight nights of blessings and lighting of the menorah. My mom was a good sport and contributed to my collection of gifts.

I was raised Roman Catholic and come from generations of devout Catholics. I knew nothing of Judaism (still have only scratched the surface) and wanted to be able to answer questions that my son may have as he gets older with some semblance of education. I'm definitely interested in other religions or beliefs than my own. I don't have to agree with someone to understand what they are about - for that matter there are aspects to my own religion that I don't completely agree with but the segments that I do believe overpower those. We were a little late to organized religion as a couple as my husband and I are very spiritual in each other - it's gotten us through some really difficult times. We both wanted to give our son the experience of a church community. Luckily we found one right near us that we really like and felt at home in right away... but I digress.

The first day of Hanukkah came and my son was asleep when I got home with the menorah - great, day one and I'm already breaking the tradition of lighting the menorah at sundown! What I envisioned of us standing around the menorah as a family each night saying blessings and enjoying the spirit is not what happened - and that's okay. It wasn't really fair of me to assume that I was delving into a whole other belief system for research purposes didn't mean that my boys had to also. My son was asleep (as I mentioned) and my husband was in the kitchen beside me wearing his Christmas PJ bottoms and eating a Christmas tree snack cake - he insists that this was not in symbolic protest but I have my doubts. After this, I knew that I was pretty much in it on my own.

Day two - the son was awake as we did it at sundown and I was able to teach him that the candle that goes in the middle and is the only one we light with a lighter is called the shamash. Also the order in which you place and light the candles is in respect to the miracle of the oil and light. He did enjoy that but mainly was interested in his gifts - even though some of them really had no meaning to him... a dreidel, some gelt, ornaments, a winter hat... he got plenty for Christmas so there was no reason to go crazy!

The subsequent days were enjoyable for me. I would light the menorah and sit in the quiet room and either pray for the many people in my life that I was thinking about during the holidays especially. According to what I read, you really shouldn't do any kind of work while the candles are burning and this part was very nice and peaceful. It happened to always be a time that my boys were either upstairs doing something else or outside for one reason or another. The blessings to be read really weren't anything different than I would say myself - that is the one rule I had for myself that if I was going to learn another custom, I wouldn't say anything I didn't believe. Mainly thanking God for bringing me to this point in this season - keeping me strong (obviously paraphrasing).

On the last night (which was after the craziness of our Christmas celebrations were finished), I decided to go to the kosher section in the grocery store and buy some supplies. We had potato latkes, some tea biscuits (which are very low in WW points BTW), and some challah bread. We also lit a candle of remembrance to think about the loved ones we've lost. My boys had none of the festive eating options but were polite about it... again - I didn't push (said in my best Linda Richmond voice and hand gesture).

All in all - a great experience that I'm really glad I did. The observer/writer in me likes to see things from other perspectives and viewpoints and this was a great way to do that.

On the Eighth Day of Hanukkah

the season gave to me...

Eight candles burning,

Seven potato latkes,

Six spinning dreidels,

Five books to read!

Four coins of gelt,

Three praying folks,

Two reluctant boys,

and A wiser mom for my kid!