The Glass is Half-Full

As many of you know, I am the overly-involved mother of three and wife of one. When my children are involved in something, I tend to become a little involved as well - as much as they'll let me. And trust me, they haven't always wanted me there and so I have for the most part quietly receded away. And then there are times, when it seems I go overboard!!  I have spent the last three weeks of my life totally consumed with Oz - Wizard of Oz at Holland High School. While I wasn't in the play - I am experiencing a little of the actors' let down at final curtain. The sense of, "now what"?  It was an incredible experience. I operated as a kind of volunteer coordinator for my fellow parents and then as a sort of box office/house manager for the performances. I really got to know the cast and, to a person, love those Ozzians and Munchkins!! A bonus for me, as a school of choice parent, was getting to know so many of the Holland school parents. An awesome group if t

If you're anything like me (I know no one wants to readily admit to it but there are people like me) you've come away from recent elections shaking your head and thinking, "They just don't get it . . ." No matter what happens in an election in recent years, it comes back to party politics. Like a fight - the fighters retreat to their corners where the same 'experts' and advisers whisper sweet motivations in their ears and the same fighters come out swinging in the same fight over-and-over-and-over . . . Like tired boxers they no longer know what they're fighting for but they keep fighting because the bejeweled experts in the corner are paying them to get into the ring. The fighters become tired and entangled and throw half-hearted punches until the bell tolls again and they retreat to their corners where the same . . . Imagine a Rocky movie here but instead of  the old gravely voiced manager, there is Bernie Madoff or worse. Meanwhile, we in the aud

If you're anything like me (I know no one wants to readily admit to it but there are people like me) you've come away from recent elections shaking your head and thinking, "They just don't get it . . ." The Sequester - more of the same. If your representative is a Republican, then they have to side with speaker Boehner or if a Democrat they have to side with President Obama. I use the term 'have to side' because in recent years there have been a few politicians that didn't tow the party line (or is it 'toe the party line'?) and they didn't receive financial backing or otherwise in future campaigns from their own party. Seems the parties have more sway than the issues. No matter what happens in an election in recent years, it comes back to party politics. Like a fight - the fighters (in this case our representatives) retreat to their corners where 'experts' and advisers whisper sweet motivations in their ears and the fighters c

Sometimes the most enjoyable evenings are those that are unplanned. John and I had one of those evenings with our good friends Kris and Mike VanLoon on Saturday. Mike came over to help John with his lumberjack duties - cutting up the felled tree in our backyard.{see below for the details of that  incident} When he arrived John and Matthew had completed the task. Mike said he arrived 'just in time'!! The boys sat down and watched football and we planned to go to Douglas' Octoberfest after dinner.  We arrived just as it was finishing (I think Mike might have radar for this sort of just in time thing!!!). We did manage to have one or two beverages and had some interesting conversations. Or in many cases, snatches of conversations. As when I walked up to a table to hear Paula exclaim "I don't want the butt I want the meat." Immediately upon seeing the expressions of those that hadn't heard the beginning of the conversation, she turned a bright shade of pin

Year one My son Matthew loved the story of and character Peter Pan so much as a creative 3 year old that he decided to be Peter Pan for Halloween and then became Peter for about 18 months. Seriously, 18 months. It all started when a catalog with some really cool costumes came in the mail and we saw a nice Peter Pan costume. It was early October when it arrived in the mail and Matthew could not wait for Halloween so he could wear his costume since I told him he couldn't wear it until then. Halloween came and he wanted to put it on first thing - but this mean mom made him wait until the afternoon.  When he put on the costume, he 'became' Peter Pan. He stood like Peter, with his hands on his hips, feet about shoulder width apart and a defiant look came upon his sweet cherubic face. Magic. The one thing he didn't like was that he didn't have a dagger that he could tuck in his belt. I cannot imagine what he'd have done if armed with a dagger!! That night,

I had the pleasure of meeting an amazing young woman yesterday. I had to share her story. After my Mom boarded the train to Chicago, I waved goodbye and went back through the station lobby. A young woman in a FedEx fleece was sitting in the station. I thought I'd seen her come off the train - it departs Grand Rapids on it's way to Holland and Chicago. I asked if she needed a ride a somewhere and she said - "Sure" and seemed a little surprised at the offer.  Shandra works for the FedEx Kinkos store in Holland about 5 miles from the station. On our short journey, I learned that she has worked there for about a year and loves the company. She lives in Grand Rapids and takes the train from there to Holland every weekday. Be prepared to be awed - each morning she takes the bus from her north side Grand Rapids apartment to the station on the southeast side for a 7:50 am departure to Holland. It arrives about 8:30 am. She then waits for a bus (if the train isn't late

Time for a funny not-so-little Piggins' story. It's about Delaney, the Divine Miss D, as she was dubbed at the time by a dear friend. It was a cold and blustery Sunday. (No this isn't a Winnie the Pooh tale!). The boys were content to hang out at home watching football. I, on the other hand, needed to go the mall to return something and to get a new bathing suit for my aqua aerobics class. I had pre-shopped but needed to try on the three suits at the Speedo store. Since John was watching football and Delaney heard the word 'shopping' she went with me. I made, what at the time seemed to be a reasonable deal with my three-year-old. I guess my first mistake was assuming (yes, eventually making and ass of me!) that I could reason with a three-year-old. You'd think I would have known better. The deal was that we would do my errands - to Hudson's to return and then to the Speedo store. I assured her that all told, it would only take an hour and then when ti

We, as a country, were at our best in the months following 9-11. And never was it more evident than in the dichotomy that was shown this past weekend as we acknowledged the tenth anniversary of that horrendous day that is forever etched in our collective memories. (How's that for a slew of cliches?). On the actual anniversary there were a plethora of television programs and newspaper articles - bringing to life the horror and tension that was September 11, 2001. At church, our Pastor, like many others across the country, tried to put the day into perspective. It was a solemn, though rich, day. On Monday, there was a direct contrast - a GOP presidential debate. Politics and the creation and celebration of differences. And it brought back memories of those days and months after 9-11 - when as a country we rallied together. We seemed to understand that there was a lot more at stake than political differences. While there were divergent opinions there seemed to be an acceptance o

My aunt recently commented about my blog that I do a  "great job of sharing things very personal without them being morbid, too dramatic, TOO personal". I am about to let her down . . . It's been a tough week.  We learned that a man we knew from treatment at UofM, with a similar cancer, passed away on Tuesday. We knew that just after the treatment at UofM concluded, that his cancer had meta-sized to his lungs and other treatments (including one at John's Hopkins) did not help. John Cleasby was only 57. In my mind, I can see his face in the chemo infusion room at UofM - coping as all the patients were. He was a quiet and gentle man - who happened to be married to a former co-worker of mine. While sitting next to each other in the infusion area, it seemed a blessing that I found a long-lost friend in the chaos that was the UofM Cancer Center and hospital. Bonnie Cleasby and I shared so much and had such similar outlooks. "We are going to beat this thing",

I don't know if you know this but I often think in terms of essays or blogs. An example might be that I am out at an event and something funny (it's almost always something funny that triggers this writing response) happens. In my mind, while I'm supposed to be 'in the moment', I am instead often putting together an essay or blog. Good thing that these don't often make it to print or the 'cloud'. Yet I cannot suppress the humor and joy of a morning spent with my dear friend Aimee who has had very little humor or joy in her life since last December. And it was all because of my keeps-me-on-my-toes puppy, Wally. Aimee has a Chiara Malformation which is a growth on the brain that for may patients goes either undiagnosed their entire lives or causes little problem. Not so for Aimee. Hers was discovered last November and while dealing with what she thought were migraines. The pain became so severe that she went to emergency room where a CT Scan revealed

I live about 1/2 mile from one of the most beautiful lakes in the world and the beaches are spectacular. Guess what? I didn't make it there one time this summer!!!! While this fair-skinned mostly Irish colleen doesn't necessarily bronze, I love to sit on the beach and listen to the waves (reapply sunscreen), read a book (reapply sunscreen),go for a swim and, you guessed it, reapply sunscreen.  I spent a lot of time in the kitchen and car. The kitchen because all three of the not-so-little Piggins had one or more jobs that required them to work different hours. Michael might come home from one shift at 9 and be ready for lunch. Matthew might have a shift that starts at noon and he would require food at 11. And Delaney often had to pack something because she was working two jobs. They would all arrive home at different times at night and need sustenance. While I didn't always cook for them, I found that I would need to assist. I was in the car shuttling Delaney from dri

I have been reading through the blog entries for John's caringbridge site and am marveling that it was only a year ago we were on that awful cancer journey. In a way it seems like so much longer - especially when I look at the Patient Patient and see just how wonderfully handsome and healthy he looks! John still has periodic visits with the docs in A2 and prior to each we are both a little nervous that the docs might find something. He calls after each visit and we breathe a sigh of relief when the docs declare that all is clear! We know patients that went through treatment at the same time haven't received the same news; our concerns are grounded in reality and our sense of relief immense. In the past year, we have heard of far too many people that have received a diagnosis of cancer - prostrate, breast, throat, etc. While the type of cancer may be very different, the family's reaction and the ultimate course of treatment may vary greatly. The family and loved ones go

Who does that song? The one with the lyrics - "Time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking into the future"? It's the song that continues to play in mind today. I've attended the graduation open house of my son Matthew's dearest friend, Kyle, today. While there I saw the elementary school principal, a teacher or two and a boatload of friends. It made me realize that no matter how hard I try to maintain the status quo ~ life continues. Not only can I vividly recall my children as young children, I can recall many of their friends. It's  bittersweet this time passage thing because we, as parents and adults, can recall these graduating 'children' as children. At this open house, my daughter's first grade teacher recalled Delaney as a six year old lover of books and told tales out of school that brought back the memories of my daughter at that time in her life. Shortly after that conversation,  I watched her rehearsal for the concert/performance/f

As I was vacuuming this morning, my mind began to wander to times past - some considered less than funny at the time. Not true this morning as I laughed out loud. And I thought, "hindsight might be twenty-twenty, but it can also be funny-funny". I know I'm not alone in this thought - we often hear at those less than funny moments that one day we will laugh at 'this' (whatever the 'this' is). Especially when we're parenting young children and they do something incredibly irritating to their parent. In public. In the afternoon. On a hot, humid day spent at the beach. When the child and parent haven't had a nap. And the child can't stop saying something totally inappropriate for a three-year old that he just heard his parent say in frustration at the d*** driver that just cut her off on her way to the grocery store to get the milk her d*** hubby forgot to get the night before. So this adorable preschooler, sitting in the grocery cart starts to s

I am about to sound like the perimenopausal, middle-age woman that I am but what is it with the droopy drawers on these teen boys?  I remember when showing your 'wears' was an embarrassment! Boys didn't want the public at-large to know if they were wearing Tidy Whities or boxers. Now it seems to be a fashion statement. It is something that has bothered me for awhile but I had cause recently to be really bothered. There I was minding my own business waiting to pick up Delaney in front of the high school when two teens stopped in front of the van. The boy bent over to tie his shoe and gave me a full shot of his Jockeys. His pants were belted - BELTED - below his buttocks to keep them where they shouldn't be anyway. And he was worried about his untied shoe?? I thought, "Holy cow, dude, you got bigger problems than an untied shoe!" He stood, and get this, adjusted his pants  and walked away- like a penguin he walked! And I was reminded of Dick VanDyke dancing w

When I was in junior high school, I staged a sit-in and learned about 'ten year'. This will come as a total surprise to most of you readers - I was not a perfectly well behaved child. I know, I know - you're shocked, amazed, in wonder how I could have turned out to be so well-behaved despite the oats sown in my youth.  And the sit-in is a perfect example of how I marched to the beat of my own drummer. Miss Brown was an English teacher - and not a very popular one. She would invoke the yardstick on wayward student's hands and scowl the moment we walked into the classroom. We weren't very kind to Miss Brown but then she wasn't very kind to us, either. Personally, the hardest part of having Miss Brown as an English teacher is that she nearly ruined my love of my favorite topic in school. It was the year we were to learn grammar (have I ever mentioned that as a writer I detest grammar?). I think some new way of teaching English was introduced and in all likeli

One of my favorite memories of growing up was when my sister Kelli and I got to fly, by ourselves, from our home in Milwaukee to visit our grandparents in Champaign Illinois. We were dressed similarly - in matching suits of different colors. I believe we were 9 and 8 and so proud that our parents were letting us on this big adventure. It also meant changing planes at O'Hare airport! We were instructed on how to get help looking for our gate and reminded just how large O'Hare was. We felt grown up! Our father travelled a lot for business, so he gave us valuable information about that monstrous airport (that it had seven 'fingers' was one tidbit I still remember - he was referring to the terminals). It shouldn't have surprised either Kelli or I that upon landing, our Dad would just happen to be at O'Hare too. He claimed that he too was there to change flights and since we had a little bit of time, wouldn't it be great to have lunch together. So the three

I have put pride aside and taken up my cane. Every time I leave the house or car, I now use a cane for walking. It sounds so easy, writing about using a cane - but it's one of those life passages that's far more difficult than it sounds. It is taking a whole lot of humility to be reliant on my cane. I try not to let the looks of curiosity or, even worse, pity bother me. But they do. I try not to let the comments suggesting I'm older than I am, bother me.(Maureen, you know what I'm talking about!) But they do. I try not to let the comments of empathy or pity bother me. But they do. And I realize the reason it bothers me is that not only am I schlepping the cane I'm still carrying my pride. Wounded pride, but pride nonetheless. I'm trying to leave it at home or just to throw it away all together. After all, it's a lot of baggage to lug around while holding onto a cane. I'm trying not to care about looks or comments or senior discounts. Trying a litt

I am in the midst of a 'peri-empty nest syndrome'. Don't bother wondering where that syndrome came from - I just made it up. It's a combination of perimenopause and something else I can't quite remember right now. But that something I forgot was some sort of syndrome. My nest is slowly emptying. Michael is away at college and comes home on breaks; though he may get an internship this summer and not be home at all. Matthew as a junior is looking at colleges and is busy with a myriad of activities and friends and is home between the two (activities and friends). Delaney is busy with rehearsals, practices and friends in Holland - her new high school is there. And I am the mama bird at home in the nest that still needs to be cared for watching her birdies fly away or on test runs for the big fly-off. It is a strange feeling. Everyone I know that's an empty nester says it's great after the initial shock wears off (the dads say it takes about 30 minutes, the

Grandma came for the weekend and met Wallace. Wallace is the name that I dubbed Wally the not-so-little black havoc wreaker when he is being a particularly big havoc wreaker. Although my Mom did not know that was his name when I am in the throes of puppy frustration. She also dubbed him Wallace this past weekend after a day spent trying to stay one step ahead and ending three steps behind. I called home on day two of John and my trip to San Diego and this was part of the conversation: "Hi Mom. How's it . . ." "Now I know why, when you say you can't get anything done you really can't! He's into everything . . ." She went on to tell me about a book or two that had been destroyed, a trellis in the backyard that is more like a plant stake now, the battered and bruised bananas that Wally got off the counter and carried around, the newspapers torn to shreds . . . well you get the picture. "He's like a toddler," she exclaimed, "

I've long been a fan of historical fiction and just this past Christmas I received from my son Michael Ken Follett's most recent book, Fall of Giants. It is the first book of a trilogy that covers the 20th century and the first installment covers the early 1900s up to just after World War I. It includes characters based in Russia in the time of their revolution. While I studied the Russian Revolution in college, this book brought much back to me - including the chaos that reigned for years leading up to the revolution and continuing throughout. I write about this today because the Egyptian revolution reminds me of the Russian revolution. The Russian revolution started out quietly and largely as a protest against a harsh and autocratic government - the Tsar. The Russian people didn't have a say in their government and were very poor while the royalty in Russia lived large. The secret police in Russia often killed and imprisoned people for no apparent reason and there were

It's been awhile since I've blogged about Wally - our little black havoc wreaker shown above wreaking havoc on the deck after the first snow storm. I was reminded of this yesterday when I went to get all of my hairs cut. Stacey has been my stylist for about eight years and while I love the styles she gives I love our conversations even more! Stacey lost her dog Phoebe a few weeks ago and as anyone that has read this blog knows, I can relate all to well after losing our Sandy in August. So, while getting my new style we talked about Phoebe and what a wonderful dog she was and how sad it was at the end when she couldn't even go up and down the stairs. And then, Stacey commented that she didn't think she'd get another dog because of all the posts about Wally and the challenges I've encountered with raising a puppy. I guess Wally wreaked even more havoc and he wasn't even there! So, this is for Stacey - more reasons not to get a puppy. Wally gets into ever

The Saugatuck Football Team had a dream season - the post-season was nearly as long as the regular season. The team had their fair share of injuries(if injuries to high school boys can be called fair?). But thankfully none to Matthew - who played in some injury-prone positions including center, tackle (or was it guard?) linebacker and other line positions where they are front and center to the other team's line and in constant danger of getting splayed. But no - Matthew did not sustain any injuries in football season. No, he waited until off-season baseball practice in the gym to sustain an injury worthy of a visit to the ER. And it wasn't caused by some bruiser lineman or even another player or bat - it's cause was a baseball to the face. As John said when he came into the ER, "Next time use your mitt!" One CT scan, four stitches, two vicodin and a shot or two of lidocaine and we were on our way. And then just a couple days ago, Matthew shared with me the st

Technology, especially the computer and Internet, have greatly improved my life. It has become so much a part of my day-to-day that I don't really even think about how much my life is enhanced and improved by the Internet. I believe this is likely true for all of you out there in cyberworld as well. There is a downside I've been thinking a lot about recently. Distraction. I am like a school kid with ADD when I come to my computer in the morning. I want to stay on task, I really do but the Internet is ripe with tempting diversions. This morning for instance, I went online to check my email and Facebook. I went to Facebook where a friend posted a funny video that leads me to You Tube where I get lost amongst similar gems. After several minutes - maybe 20 or 30 - I remember to check my email and log onto my home page where OOOO look, look over here on my home page there is a link to the NPR story I only got a chance to hear the end of yesterday, now I can listen to the whole

If you have read my blog in the past or know me at all, you know that sports in general and football in particular are not one of my favorite things to watch. Unless of course, one of my sons is playing - then get out of my way as I cheer them on! It is with a lot of frustration that I have seen more televised football games in recent weeks than there are hairs on my head. Okay that might be a slight exaggeration - but only slight . So if you're like me, you have seen the plethora of commercials from the Foundation for a Better Life. They are wonderful, heartfelt little life snippets - and they all end with the tag line, "Values, pass it on." Some of the most memorable are: The girl with Downs syndrome that is crowned prom queen. The skater 'dude' that is seen running through the alleys and streets with a woman's purse in his hands until he gets to the city bus where he gives the purse to a woman that is disembarking. He says, "You left this on the b