The Glass is Half-Full

When my nest was full and a flurry of near-constant activity, I had it together. I could nearly effortlessly balance the demands of being an overly-involved mother of three,supportive spouse, community volunteer, freelance writer and social butterfly. I was often busy  but I felt focused. I could handle the demands of many; many people and many organizations. If someone needed a volunteer - I was their woman. And I would get the job done. If the kids needed a chaperon for a field trip they'd often volunteer me without asking knowing that I'd do it. Now the nest is emptying, with only one not-so-little Piggins at home. And she is rarely in the nest, busy with the life of a high-school senior. That's the way it should be, I know, yet it seems so strange.  I know that a lot of my fellow moms know about which I write. Can I get an Amen?! I've been anticipating these days. But it doesn't mean I prepared for them. When I was expecting Michael, I read every book or m

I have listened to the Great Consolidation Debate and done little more than soak up information from both sides. I have kept my opinion to myself believing the issue has become to many as toxic to discussion as politics, religion or who is responsible for the government shut-down. Yet, after listening to a man at church on Sunday, (one who has been in support of consolidating Saugatuck and Douglas for many years) tell me he was opposed this time because it meant the 'abolition of Saugatuck' - that it would exist no more, and be completely absorbed by Douglas, I felt I could be silent no longer. Where, I asked him, did he hear this about consolidation? He replied to the affect, "Well everyone knows that's what those people on the committee want?" His problem wasn't consolidation, he still thought it was a good idea. His problem was with a rumor he saw as fact. And that made my Irish and blood pressure go up. There are too many rumors being thrown, and unfor

Okay fellow children of the 70s - do you remember when we 'searched' for colleges? I do and know that my search was less of a search and more of a stumble. And I know that it was way different than the search that my children and the children of this generation embark. My search. I liked the sound of Notre Dame and we had some family connection so I applied. I went to visit my sister Kelli at Michigan State University over a Halloween party weekend and had a little too much fun. Search over.  There may have been more forethought, but I don't recall looking into entrance requirements or how the schools were rated. I have a vague notion that my attitude at the time was "Since my dad won't let me go to New York to study theater, I'll show him and study political science." The illogical logic of a teenage girl with no idea what she wanted. My kids' searches; involve Internet searches, online testing to see what kind of school would best fit their nee

The title might be a bit extreme - Francis might just go to his room and shut the door and put a pillow over his head to silence the 'noise'. I have done that on occasion. And not because I have toddlers, or a kid that plays the drums or even really loud kids - it's because I live in a house where there is one lawyer, one law school student, and two more potential lawyers. And me - the one singing "Let there be peace on earth . . ." The other four Piggins family members enjoy debating. Sometimes, I think for the sake of the debate. John, Michael, Matthew and Delaney seem to really like these 'discussions'. For instance, we were watching a television show recently - I cannot even recall which one, but it seemed fairly bland - when one of the barrister Piggins made a comment that inspired disagreement from another barrister Piggins. That inspired another from another. And then one more from another until the four of them were debating on some point that wa

We spent three days in DC - but only one of those was sightseeing. The first we picked up Delaney at her journalism conference, taking her back to the hotel and letting her nap for a couple hours and then going to dinner at Red Lobster. She took the picture above and was mortified that her parents could be so embarrassing. In other words, we were doing our job as parents - embarrassing our child. that is after all in the parenting contract - "Thou shalt embarrass your offspring on all possible occasions." Our second day, included a tour of American University for Delaney. She loved it - more on that East Coast college tour in a later blog. The third day - we decided to spend our time visiting the Holocaust Museum and Arlington National Cemetery. Hence the title, 'the day of the dead'. We arrived at the museum shortly after they opened and got our scheduled time to visit the main exhibit. I put pride aside and used the wheelchair because I knew that it

It's July 30. Summer, right? Wrong!!! In Michigan, we had our summer two weeks ago for about 10 days. Saw a recent post on Facebook that read:"You know you're in Michigan when you wear your bathing suit on Monday and your parka on Tuesday." We sweltered for a week or two and then were chilled again. That's where we are now. Chilling at 70. Weather aside, it no longer feels much like summer. The back-to-school ads, commercials, displays and talk have begun full-force. And I feel like I just got used to having the three-not-so-little Piggins home again and now I have to get them ready for school. Delaney has a little longer, but Michael leaves for Wayne State law in two weeks and Matthew for his sophomore year at DePauw in three.  I get the nest re-feathered and damn these 'baby' birds but they stay for too short a time then fly away. *sigh* Since this is the "glass half full" blog of a pseudo-Pollyanna, I will revert to thinking positively

Summer television. Almost an oxymoron, isn't it? At least for those of us that grew up not watching in the summer. More on why in a future episode of the Glass is Half-Full . . . In the Piggins' household, however, it means repeated episodes of shows we don't watch (mostly) the rest of the year. And each summer seems to have it's own show. There was the summer the kids watched 'Seventh Heaven'. Another 'Full House' was popular at least with Delaney; her brothers would often groan when she was in control of the remote! As they got older, the shows got 'older' too - like 'That 70s Show' or 'How I Met Your Mother". Questionable content - sparking lots of interesting conversations. For awhile, these shows were watched as downtime and when they were actually airing. Now, though, the shows are DVR'd and watched whenever they have downtime. Which often means at different times for each of the three not-so-little Piggins. Let

I love the Wizard of Oz. My favorite production, of course, was the one done by Holland High School in 2011. My second favorite was the one done by the Peanut Butter & Jelly Players in Saugatuck with director Justine Kinnaman and a cast of children, teens and yours truly in the coveted role of the Wicked Witch. I was perfectly awful of course - but I had such fun being a little wicked. (I couldn't be too wicked and scare the audience of children). The favorite scene was when the witch is doused with water and melts - the cast loved that scene because they actually threw water on me, the audience loved that scene because they wanted to see me melt, and I loved that scene because the lines "I'm melting. Oh you killed me and my wicked loveliness " Or something to that effect. Such fun to act out. Well, I catch myself these days uttering those words. And not because I'm being doused, but because like 50 percent of this country, there is a heat-advisory where I

I have been to Boston two other times in my life. Both times, if my memory is correct, it was a bit like being a mouse in a maze. A maze directed by an evil scientist that kept changing the blockades and making this mouse change directions. So that by the time I reached the end and that much-sought after cheese, I was no longer hungry. This time this mouse had GPS! Take that you evil scientist - or diabolical city planners! It is still a chaotic mess and is not a place I would want to live, but I felt like I could manage the drive with fewer expletives. There were still some heated exchanges between John, the driver, and me the navigator but I imagine far fewer had we not had Garmin Gal leading us along. But GG only came in handy when we had an address and a plan. Not so on our way to see Paul Revere. I'm still not completely sure how we stumbled on North Church and the statue of Paul Revere - and that is indeed what happened. One minute, I was saying, "I have no idea what

Sitting on my deck yesterday morning, I was enjoying my first cup of coffee and listening to the plethora of birds. One of the things I like best about being nearly surrounded by wilderness - is the early morning bird calls, songs and sounds. It's peaceful and musical. So, there I am sitting, enjoying, soaking it all in when suddenly and seemingly without warning, I hear the grating sound of chainsaws quickly followed by the nerve-shattering sound of wood chippers. My peace was no more and the only image that came to mind was of Robert Duvall's character in "Apocalypse Now" when he steps out of his tent, taking a big breath and declaring "There's nothing like the smell of napalm in the morning" as helicopters zoom and hover in the background midst smoke and fire. While it wasn't napalm, it felt as destructive! They're starting construction on a house in the lot next door. The lot that has stood empty for these 11 years that we have lived here

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha

What do London Bridge, Humpty Dumpty, The Three Little Pigs and Kathleen Piggins have in common? They all fall down!  Well with the Three Little Pigs it's not the pigs that fall but the house but I have three not-so-little Piggins and it just seemed appropos to include that fairy tale here! Because this is a tale about falling down. But it's also about getting back up! At last night's Douglas Social  my friend Kris and I meandered through the crowd greeting and often hugging friends along the way to the beer/wine tent - I spotted a friend that recently moved to the area and went to give her a big hug. and after proceeded to fall flat on my arse. Time seemed to stop and it felt that the all eyes in the crowd were on me as I landed and then proceeded to get back up with the help of friends. One of the saddest part of the fall, was that I had just gotten my first glass of wine and it was now all over me.  I thought "Thank goodness I was drinking white". And t

When we first moved to Douglas nearly 11 years ago - I was introduced to many people in this small town either through my children to their classmate's parents or through my gig as a writer for the local paper. It was the first time, I might add, that people actually read my byline - in all the years of writing for regional or national publications I never heard "So you're Kathleen S. Piggins" but I did when writing for the Local Observer. Kathleen S. Piggins was the byline I used for the paper. Anyway, one sunny spring afternoon watching my son play baseball a woman came up to me and said, "keep it up, Kathleen S. Piggins." I smiled and asked her name and what it was that I should 'keep up'. She replied, "I am Nathan and Alex's grandma, Edie. My son is Bill the coach. And I meant keep up the excellent stories about the schools. 'Bout time someone told it like it is." That encounter was followed by many more through the years, a

I fell off the wagon. Well, that might sound a little accidental. When in reality it was more like, "I'm getting bored with this wagon ride, so I think I'll just get off here." And then I kicked the crap out of that wagon until it was but a distant dot down the road. In this case the wagon was my commitment to that silly Wii Fit. I got tired of hearing that stupid trainer say things like "you seem a little wobbly today" (to which I would say something classy like "No shit Sherlock!") or for the scale to move ever so slightly - and ever-so-slightly wasn't  enough to keep me motivated. I needed more!!! So, I jumped off the wagon. Makes a lot of sense, right? WRONG!  But justification is a powerful thing and something I've nearly perfected these many years losing, then gaining, then losing, then gaining . . . the same 40 pounds. Heck, you could say that by now I have a PhD in Justification.  And here's the thing, that wagon is st

I sat down for breakfast yesterday, reading the daily paper (more like perusing actually) and then the National Multiple Sclerosis' Michigan chapter newsletter. These two seemingly unrelated choices of reading material had a whole lot in common yesterday, though, and they caused my blood to boil and to get my 'Irish up". One of the obits in the paper was for a 51 year-old woman- her family was requesting donations be sent to the MS Society. (I confess to now reading the obits - something I used to believe only old people read. But since I'm NOT old and I'm reading the obits, I guess I was wrong!) Just last week, I learned of another person with MS that had died at a young age of 50-something. In the MS newsletter, a rather slim edition filled mostly with fundraising events, I read about the 'promising research' partially funded by the MS Society. I wanted to scream! "In 1993, Betaseron was released to market," the article began , "as th

Day six of my daily Wii-Fit routine.  (Well. actually day five since I had to miss Saturday for Delaney's singing competition at Western Michigan University where I had to schlep from the parking ramp to the music building and back a few times which felt like exercise enough so that by the time I got home, I was too tired to Wii). I enjoy some of the activities or exercises more than others - including the marching band, Kung Fu and boxing. If you're not familiar with Wii Fit, I'm sure it sounds fairly lame and not much of an 'exercise'. But for someone who is way out of shape, it's a start and kind of fun! For the marching band, I imagine the high school band director, Andrew Holtz, snickering as I often march out of rhythm. And I remember Matthew laughing at me (not with ) when he saw me doing the Kung Fu and John did the same when he saw me boxing. I now do Wii in the privacy of the basement when no one is around so I don't have any more memories of inc

John sent me this article a few months back and I cannot tell you how many times it has resonated with me - especially with our oldest, Michael. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/28/booming/when-theyre-grown-the-real-pain-begins.html?_r=0 Michael is graduating from Wabash College in May and will be attending law school in the fall. The search for law schools has been totally on his shoulders and I have been amazed at how different this is from when he was looking for colleges. While he was in the driver's seat for the college search, John and I were always there as passengers; visiting colleges, weighing the options and sharing our opinions. The college search process has a place for parents - the admissions counselors always meet with us and we are often as much a target of their marketing/sales pitch as the student. Not so for law or graduate schools - we only know what Michael shares with us. And that's the way it should be, I know. I have caught myself going online to r

As I was slathering on lotion after my shower the other day, I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. And the thought that leapt to mind was, "I'm Rubenesque". The next thought was, "I am not happy with that analogy!" Of course the latter thought was more strongly worded and might have included an expletive or two. Or three or four. In a society that champions thin, Rubenesque is certainly not a prized state of being and it is taking all kinds of courage to admit this in this public forum, but I feel it's something I must do to get my Rubunesque butt into a more desired shape. I have let my MS gradually immobilize me to the point where fear of falling or tripping or looking klutzy are the glue that's keeping me in place. And the glue is made all the stronger by the snow and ice awaiting me as soon as leave the house. Nothing good can happen by hibernating in fear - in fact quite the opposite. So, I've committed to daily exercise - for now