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A Holiday Purist
Hallothanksmas (the blending and mixing of the holidays) began in the retail community.As a teacher, the last day with students for the year was usually around June 5th. This year I noticed that our local Wally World began putting out “Back to School” banners and items out in the store on July 1.
As the 2023-2024 school year began, my daughter Aubrey was a bit of a minimalist regarding school supplies. So, not unexpectantly, I had to pick up more notebooks and folders after a couple of weeks. I was shocked to see the beginnings of Christmas displays on September 15. (The date is firm in my memory as it was soooo incredibly early.)
Why is this all so bothersome to me?
I am a holiday purist.
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Please, No Socks or Underwear For Me
Our family has participated in a “Secret Santa” gift exchange for the last several years. (This year, I believe there are 17 family members involved.) Each person gets one name and buys a gift (spending up to $25) for that person.
What makes it so fun and special is that no one is going to give, or get, something that is…necessary. All gifts will be tokens of thoughtfulness. I think there are 4 main rules that we follow to amplify enjoyment.
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Dad’s Benediction
There is so much to be thankful for…that is what this holiday is all about. It is also a time to remember and honor memories.
My dad has a favorite blessing that he recites at family gatherings. (I have googled it and found no references.)
Let us bow our heads in prayer.
Lord God, gracious and merciful,
We acknoledge thy bountiful goodness towards us and give you thanks for our daily bread…
so richly provided by thee.
And we ask you to continue to bless us
with the benedictions of thy fatherly hands.
Through Jesus Christ, our Lord,
Amen
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Evolution of Breakfast
“Eat breakfast like a king,lunch like a prince,
dinner like a pauper.”
This was the saying many years ago when I was struggling with my weight. I would eat a big breakfast and feel sluggish and drowsy for much of the morning. Was it the quality of the food? Was it the content of carbs versus protein? Was it the sugar, fat, salt…?
I’m not sure. Probably yes, yes, and…yes…
When I taught, I often skipped breakfast and had a snack around 9:30 with the students in my class. Although I sent home a letter with a dozen suggestions for “healthy” treats, the most common items were brownies, rice crispy treats, granola bars, cheese cheese-flavored crackers…it makes me tired just writing this.
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No White Walls
In college, my rooms were boxes with white walls enhanced with my personal belongings.When Tom and I married, we lived in several apartments…all decorated with the same Hunter Green and tan items. The walls were always white from Eau Claire, WI to Memphis, TN, to Oak Park, IL.
We bought our first home in Sun Prairie, WI. Besides my garden outside, the first thing I did inside was PAINT. I painted mottled soft tan stripes in the master bedroom and deep raspberry walls sponge-painted with ivory in the guest room. I was just getting started. When we moved to my first house in Beaver Dam, I was ready. The home had sat unsold for several months before the previous owners decided to install new ivory carpeting on the main floor and paint every room with a fresh coat of clean white paint. When I moved in, my fingers itched to make it mine.
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Rising Before Dawn
I always walk the dogs early in the morning. My favorite time is right at sunrise–whatever time that is.
Right now, it’s the beginning of November and I’m usually walking in the dark.
When Daylight Savings Time (DST) ends this weekend, I will get a little bit more of that beautiful morning light again for a while. You see, in 2023, DST was from March 12-November 5. It’s lighter, later. Now we go to Standard Time…lighter, earlier.
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Oops, I Did It Again
It was the summer before Kindergarten. I was swimming in the kiddie pool at my neighbor Donna’s house. We were running around her backyard, and as I neared the wet grass by the pool, I slipped and fell.
I can still feel the burning pain. Her mom picked me up and dunked me in the cool water repeatedly. Then she carried me home on the path that cut across the field that connected our houses on opposite sides of the block.
I begged Mom and Dad not to take me to the hospital. The next morning, I remember Mom coming into my room to know what I wanted to wear. Since this wasn’t the way things went in the summer, I asked what was up and was informed that we were going to the hospital. You see, I couldn’t move out of bed, much less walk.
I wasn’t given crutches for weeks. I think I finally got them just in time to start school.
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You Go First
Growing up, our house was across the street from the Grand View Motel. We lived on the street behind and our home faced the 10 or so windows of the long, low building. Once a week, the owner would mow the grass and sometimes have his young son, Johnny, with him in the cab of the riding lawn tractor.
Mom asked me if I wanted to take Johnny to the “Welcome to Kindergarten” day. ( It was held on a day late in the spring semester when neighborhood Kinders would “sponsor” a child who would be entering kindergarten the following year.) “No way,” was the only explanation I gave when she asked me if I was interested in taking Johnny. But there was a reason that I didn’t want to be his special friend…
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Changing Lanes
I’m not sure why my son Kadon got his first car soon after he got his driver’s license…but he did. It was an almost 20-year-old, hand-me-down, 2002 Supercharge Pontiac Bonneville from his cousin Jessica. She got it from her brother Brad and his mom Michelle bought it from some mechanic for $3000 (a good deal I guess). It was named Jemall–it means “handsome” in Arabic (in case you were wondering, which I’m pretty sure you weren’t).
But anyway, to operate Jemall, you needed a screwdriver to stop the windshield cleaning system from spraying and wiping your windows if you dared to brush the button. When it rained, water puddled on the floor of the backseat. Pins held up the headliner. Ice and fog regularly formed on the inside of the windows. You had to manually lock all the doors because the automatic locks clicked, but nothing happened. And only the driver’s window went up and down. Whew, I think that’s it. -
Meeting Mr. Right
I had just bought a house and moved back to my hometown in July of 1998. By January 1999, I was separated from my ex-husband, living alone, having fun remodeling my old house, and excited about being single.
Mom called me after work on Friday and told me that her friend Bonnie was looking for someone to go out to eat with that night–and mom wasn’t available. She told me to give Bonnie a call.I did.
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Night Night
I’ve prided myself in consciously becoming a morning person. I’ve developed and practiced a routine to help me be successful at getting up early and starting my day positively.
My Bed: Evie at the foot, Aubrey on the left, me hogging the duvet in the middle, and the 9 1/2 inches on the right is left for Craig. One strategy to set yourself up for success is to begin the night before.
We all know a good parent needs to put predictable patterns into their child’s evening routine. There is dinner, bath, tooth brushing, stories, maybe a night-night song, and lights off.
Well, it’s the same with us grown-ups. Why do so many people fall asleep on the couch watching TV or lay in bed watching TikTok on their phone? I would be a mess if I did either of these activities!
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Make It Interesting
As a teacher myself, you would think perhaps that I wanted to be a teacher because I was inspired by all the wonderful teachers I had growing up–not so much.
Well, maybe I was inspired by one very special teacher–nope.
As a matter of fact, I went to the counseling center in college to figure out what to major in. I scored the highest in my affinity to careers in education or as a YWCA/YMCA director. I was maybe not inspired, but at least open to education because of shows like Electric Company, ZOOM, and Hodgepodge Lodge. Learning could be fun…
When I explored the education options more specifically, I thought of teaching elementary education standing at a big chalkboard and kids sitting at desks in rows. Arghhh.
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Time Heals?
“Time heals all wounds”…I’ve given some thought to this famous quote and decided that it is a harmful “old wives” tale.My perspective is based on personal experience. Having lived more than a half-century. I have a wealth of experiences under my belt that have harmed, hurt, or negatively influenced me in one way or another.
What I can say for time, with regard to healing emotional pain is that it serves two purposes. but falls short in one major way…
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I Feel Good
I can choose to be happy.
It all started when I was a child. Every Saturday, Michelle and I would do our housekeeping chores. But we would have additional cleaning responsibilities if we were having guests or before holidays. During those times, mom would be present and I remember these times well.
She would explain the importance and urgency of the chores. I think my sister and I were low on the continuum of “buy-in”. Then to encourage us, before turning us loose, Mom would always, always say, “Alright girls, let’s get this house cleaned up…and let’s have fun!”I don’t think this actually worked in my child’s mind, but it has affected me deeply in adulthood.
You see, I know I get to choose my happiness–or not. It all depends on the thoughts I purposefully think.
Let me explain.
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Spiritual Sagittarius
My birthday is in mid-December, which makes me a Sagittarius.Although I was a child in the 70s, I was really too young to be into the zodiac. As a child, I would occasionally read my horoscope in the paper, but the predictions always seemed vague and random. For example, my horoscope for today says this:
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Could Not, Would Not
I don’t remember not being able to swim. This doesn’t mean that I could swim in deep water. It only means that I didn’t drown in a kiddy pool. My Aunt Judy claims that this is because she (a swim instructor) taught me to swim before I could even walk. Judy says this was called “drown proofing”. But, of course, this doesn’t mean I can remember that–but it might explain my natural confidence in the water.
As far as remembering the learning process, I do remember taking lessons at the local YMCA. I started in level 1-Polliwogs. I thought it was silly that some kids had to practice putting their faces in the water and blowing bubbles. Jumping up and down in the shallow water was fun. We called this “doing bobs” And I was seriously motivated to make it all the way through the levels… Polliwogs, Guppies, Minnows, Fish, Flying Fish, Sharks.The only glitch in the process was diving. We all know that diving is NOT swimming. I believe that I got stuck somewhere in the level progression because I could not, would not do a back dive.
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Dusty Dreams and Ukulele Strings
My ex-husband, Tom, played the guitar. He began playing after High School–taught himself. He was a natural musician as was his father. Going into college, he was a music major. Vocal jazz was his passion. But the thing that is important here is that he began taking finger-picking lessons when he was in his late 20s. This whole idea was absolutely foreign to me. He was a grown-ass adult, an accountant who just loved to play guitar. He didn’t even play in the band at church anymore. But he wanted the routine, the commitment, and the accountability that taking lessons from a guitar teacher gave him.
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Always Moving Forward
If you could be any age, what would you pick?
Isn’t this such a “writer’s group” question? Well yeah. We sat down to get into it and discovered that you could look at the topic from a dozen different angles. Here are three alternatives that immediately popped into my head:
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Road Trip to Graceland
It was the spring of 1996. Tom and I took a creativity class together based on Julia Cameron’s book, “The Artist’s Way”. Not only did we develop a writing habit, but we also made our first dream boards, learned a basic sun salutation practice, and played around with dying fabric.Not only did we expand our repertoire of self-discovery tools, but we also met some creative and adventurous people. Dave and Paul were two young men in our class. They had wanderlust and brought up the idea of a road trip to Graceland.
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The Magic of Jewelry Making
I’ve had hobbies come and go. When I was a child, I would get craft kits as gifts. I created holiday ornaments that I painted and glued together. In Jr. High, I took lessons to play the guitar. I practiced for about 2 years but my progress was not impressive. I took up Caligraphy at one point and got special nib-tipped pens and bottles of ink. However, I only completed a single page of practice in my lesson book.
One hobby that had a longer life than most was jewelry making. I made necklaces, bracelets, and earrings…lots of earrings.I enjoyed all the parts of the process.
Walking into a bead shop is a lot like being a child walking into an old-time confectionary. You just stand there and drool. Where do you begin? Every tool, doodad, charm, bead, and book held so much…potential.
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Climbing to Kjeragbolten
It was the end of our Norway excursion. The one place my sister-in-law wanted to see was Kjeragbolten –but we were tired. Did I really want to go or should we pass?According to VisitNorway.com “The hike to Kjerag is around 11 kilometers (almost 7 miles) long and the round trip takes 6 to 10 hours. You need to be in good physical shape before heading out on this mountain hike which has an elevation gain of 800 meters. In some places, you have to pull yourself up and slide down with the help of wires, so it is a demanding hike even for experienced hikers.”
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Obligated to Collect
Down in my basement storage are three plastic grocery bags filled with matchbooks. I have enough matchbooks to last…forever.The collection began very innocently.
In third grade, we were supposed to bring in a collection to show the class. I brought Mom’s lack shadow box with seashells that were Mm’s from her childhood. You see, I didn’t really have any collections. But during this time, I saw my friend Stacy’s matchbook collection and thought it was pretty cool. I happened to mention it to my Grandma Is and the wheels began to turn. Grandma was actually excited that I was going to be a collector. And…she could help! She and Grandpa Ron would go on regular trips around the US. As smokers, they regularly picked up matches from restraints, gas stations, and hotels along the way.
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My Chaotic and Messy Life
I like the idea of clean, simple, fresh, and uncluttered. Not chaotic and messy…I follow “The Minimalists” on FB, watch reels about decluttering, and notice the sparse backgrounds in my favorite podcast videos.
A simple life beckons, but (and this is a big BUT) that isn’t how I actually live my life. Let me give you just a few thoughts that come to mind…
Work
I am a Life Coach, writer, and podcaster. I am constantly struggling to create systems to organize my content and my work. This is important so that I don’t miss things like appointments for interviews and deadlines for posts. However, as I sit at my desk, I note that it has inexplicably fallen into disarray. Stuff, unnecessary stuff, I’ve accumulated has grown roots. So instead, I grab my computer and notebook and work on the couch in the living room.
Home
When I was a teenager, I loved going to a friend’s house that had 5 children. I loved going to my boyfriend’s house where the family room was always filled with people watching football on TV. The activity of people was energizing.
My home growing up was calm and quiet. Mom cooking “Hamburger Helper” in the kitchen. In the summer, she planted dozens of annual flowers out in the gardens around the house and tended the landscaping around the yard. Dad relaxing in his tweed Lay-Z-Boy watching “Gunsmoke” or tinkering on some project in his basement workshop. My younger sister at a friend’s house playing Barbies. This was home base…the place that was stable and secure.
Grandma’s House
I would go to her house most days after school and during the days in the summer. Thinking of the couple hours I spent with her after school, I can smell bean soup simmering on the stove. Michelle and I enjoyed a snack after school before sitting on the floor and leaning against the big, round Naugahyde ottoman to enjoy uninterrupted episodes of Gilligan’s Island, The Brady Bunch, Zoom, and Hogan’s Heros. On long, hot, summer days I can still hear the distant drone of a neighbor mowing grass and the whine of cicadas in the mature Norway Maple that shaded the yard.There was a predictability in Grandma’s routine as she daily filed and and painted her perfect red nails. The hair comb was always in its spot between the two organizers in the drawer to the right of the sink.
Now
As an adult and parent, I’ve tried to create the calm consistency in my own home that I didn’t appreciate from my youth. Our house has space for people to watch TV out of earshot of others. During the school year, there is a predictability of family dinners and bedtime routines. In the summer I enjoy reading out on the screened porch overlooking my gardens and the sound of waves against our shoreline.But I’m most happy when the silence is interrupted by Kadon and Aubrey rough-housing and laughing upstairs. I love walking in the front door and seeing my son and his wife cooking in the kitchen. It doesn’t get any better than having my grandson, in his “ExerSaucer”, turn and squeal as I walk into the room.
Maybe this life isn’t exactly unrestrained messiness and overwhelming chaos…
…it’s also definitely not the quiet of a lonely, uneventful home.
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Girl Scout Adventure
Summer of 1978 at William’s Woods When I was in elementary school, I learned that the local Girl Sout troup went camping in the summer.
Sign me up!
I belonged to our local troop which met at a building near where I lived. It was called “The Girl Scout House”. The building consisted of one large open room upstairs and another twin room downstairs. Our group me upstairs. There was a big fireplace along one wall that was never used. Several long garage sale tables and metal folding chairs were the only furnishings.
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Teenage Fashion Dilemma
We, as a culture, seem to be attracted to black and white opinions. We see things as good or bad, flower or weed, Republican or Democrat, yum or yuck, right or wrong.As a parent it’s easy to be labeled as either the “go-to” parent or the “hard-ass”. Between Craig and I (generally speaking) I am the one who is more inclined to say “yes”.
But it really isn’t as simple as that…
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Finding Baby Sister
Craig swears that mom and I began planning for our baby girl when the airplane tires hit the tarmac when we returned home from adopting our boys from Russia.He was right.
I can’t remember a time that I didn’t think about “baby sister”. Our family just didn’t feel quite complete. Our boys were perfect, but there was still someone missing.
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Bedroom of My Dreams?
As the firstborn daughter in the mid-’60s, I came home to a nursery decorated in soft pink. Mom tells the story of going with Dad, Judy, and Judy’s boyfriend, Spence, on a Saturday to buy a round, fuzzy, pink rug in Madison. Mom had exactly $13 in her purse for the purchase. Unfortunately, they were stopped for speeding. The ticket was $13. Judy and Spence bought their downhill skis, but mom decided to wait and save the money…again.It was purchased after I was born.
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A Mentor For Life
In talking about mentors, I keep coming up with one person who has consistently been there for me for my whole life. She has known me from birth through the present. Sometimes she has lived close, at other times on the other side of the country. I’ve always looked up to her and admired her for the ways she’s embodied and encouraged me to be adventurous, self-confident, and independent… -
Who Needs Backup Sensors Anyway?
I’ve never been known as an awesome driver. As a matter of fact, I’ve been teased relentlessly over the years for developing ADD tendencies while behind the wheel.
This propensity to ADD while driving has its drawbacks. But sometimes I get into trouble even when I’m clearly 100% focused. like. when…backing up.
“Protective” Barriers
Most recently, I had a day job driving a forklift. I loaded freight onto a pallet and moved said freight to a staging area. On one fateful day, I had a “big and bulky” load of only 2 items. I was “looking alertly in the direction of movement with my body appropriately having 4 points of contact with the lift and using a wide-legged supported stance” as I maneuvered my pallet into the lane. Unfortunately, the load of boxes was blocking my ability to see the barrier rod that prevented people from entering a conveyor area. -
Soup Forever
The camp cook relaxing with Eli (2005). We were camping. It was the summer of 2005. We hadn’t yet adopted our boys. I don’t remember any men during the week. Who WAS there? Michelle just had knee surgery and was on crutches and down for the count most of the time. Grandma Doris, but was struggling with COPD and was using a power scooter. Mom was in charge of Chelle’s three kids.
I was in charge of all the cooking and beggers can’t be choosers. So I got to decide what was on the menu for the week. I chose soup. (I have a philosophy about soup that you can check out here.) So I got to decide what was on the menu for the week! Plus, everyone loves my soup and knows that I am the best soup cooker out there…you see, I have a secret ingredient that I add to my chicken soup that few people know about…
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Letting Go
March 20006 It’s been over a month since I’ve talked to my oldest son. Texts, messages, and chats go unanswered. His dad’s birthday has come and gone. Crickets.
Life has rarely been easy parenting Luka. We adopted him from an orphanage in Russia when he was 32 months old. The only thing we knew about his birth mother was that she was a registered alcoholic. He was a loving and sweet boy.
One of his elementary teachers noted about him, that although school was hard for him, he was the most determined and hard-working kid in her class. She was sure that that tenacity would pay off for him in the future.
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Tween Makeover
me, 7th Grade, 1977 I’ve written before about how I had many worries and thoughts about the future when I was young. But I was also a planner. One of the biggest “plans” I had was for my transition from elementary school to Jr. High.
In elementary school, I was a pretty typical kid. Braces, headgear, and rubber bands worked to fix my smile. I took tap dance lessons. In the band, I played the flute.
But I wanted to be different. So I came up with a plan. I was going to have a life makeover! But, of course, “makeover” wasn’t yet a concept.
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Not Yet a Grown-Up
This is the worst topic. Why? Because it exposes how scary this time is in anyone’s life. And right now, my daughter Aubrey is in the middle of her thirteenth year. There are six more years of her teenagehood ahead of us. I remember the struggle of that age and how confused I was about my place in the world. For me, it was a time of questioning, trying out different personas, and worrying about the future. -
Nature or Nurture?
As an adoptive parent, I only occasionally think about how my kids are like and unlike me. I do see stories frequently about adoptees getting together with birth parents. They recognize all kinds of connections that they’ve never had before. Now they see someone else who loves golf as they do. Or they see where they got their long legs with knobby knees. Or they finally found someone else in the world who pukes at the taste of dark chocolate.
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If Your Dad Knew About This…
When my kids get into trouble, I am so glad that I’m not a single parent, Craig and I both are involved in the ups and downs of parenting.
When I was a child and got into trouble, my mom was the primary caregiver, the default parent, and the dealer of discipline. But the secret of her power was found in one little phrase…”If your father found out/knew about this, he would be so disappointed.”
That little phrase had the power to shape me because she was right. AND his disappointment was like a sledgehammer. Here is one example…
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All the Feels
What makes you feel a connection with another person? Some people make you feel cared for and seen. Others, not so much.Let me give you a couple of examples of what I mean.
A while ago, Michelle and I were talking about our parents and we found out that we have completely different takes on a common occurrence.
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The Kindness of Strangers
This is a random friendly Irish cow that said “Hello” and made us feel welcome while traveling the beautiful country roads. What is a common fear when traveling?
Getting lost. Yup. Been there done that…
But it wasn’t as big of a problem as I had feared.
It was on our trip to Ireland. Mom and Melanie flew in first and rented a car. They got to our rental house first. Michelle and I rented our own car. We were told to rent a larger car with automatic transmission. The thinking was, if you have to think about driving on the left side of the road, shifting gears would be one more thing to think about.
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What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?
I’m gonna be an artist when I grow up.
This is the answer I would have given to that age-old question that adults always ask children. I loved to make things out of paper and paint and wood and clay. I didn’t necessarily like coloring books, but I loved art materials. My first memory of Kindergarten is of making a scribble picture on construction paper and then coloring in the created spaces with crayons. -
Save the Pets!
I survived the Beaver Dam tornado of 1980. Someone actually printed up a bunch of t-shirts with this brag–back in the day.
I was riding my bike home from the Jr. High (Middle School) on this fateful day. As I was riding down Mary Street hill (the same hill from this post). I thought to myself, “Strange how the faster I ride, the stronger the wind blows.” It was like somehow my actions affected the atmosphere. They were correlated…
The sky was darkening to the west. The daylight took on a greenish cast…and then the tornado sirens went off just as I rode past the last few houses before turning into my own driveway. Was my first response to seek cover and head to the basement? No, of course not. My concern was for all of our pets.
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Broken Vajayjay
When I was growing up, I loved having a bicycle. It offered freedom and adventure. I would ride my bike to friends’ houses and as necessary transportation. Back in the day, we didn’t wear helmets. I was responsible in that my bike was registered with the city and it had a license sticker on the frame.
Generally speaking, I was a careful driver. I rode on the right-hand side of the road (not on the sidewalk) and used hand signals when I was turning.
But there was this one time when I wasn’t as careful as I should have been…and I suffered the consequences.
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She’s In Trouble Now
Thank God I’m a grown-ass woman AND no longer a teacher. Do you know what that means? No. more. recess! I don’t get in trouble (or get others in trouble) anymore.
I’ve always hated recess. I’ve written before about spending a snowy recess with Mary and Mr. Fry in the boiler room here. But that isn’t the only time I purposely skipped out on recess…
I was in First Grade. My First-grade classroom was on the lower level of the building, closest to the boiler room, Mrs. Goetz was my teacher. We had been working on something when the announcement was made that it was almost recess time. But only students that were done with their work would be allowed to go out. I was done with my work, but Sean and Rochelle would need to stay in.
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A Captive Audience
My mom worked when I was growing up. I would walk to my grandma’s house after school. while there, I would lean against the round naugahyde ottoman and watch Room 222, The Brady Bunch, Marcus Welby, MD, and Gilligan’s Island. When it got dark outside, grandma would begin cooking dinner and mom would be there to pick me up. -
Little Kids Little Problems, Big Kids Big Problems
Summer of 2012 I lay in bed and play the what if…game. Why are the what ifs always the negative possibility? What is the difference between worry and anxiety? Is it a problem that I don’t know the difference?
Maybe the problem with worries is that I am thinking about something (in most cases) that is not in my control. I am overthinking and projecting negative consequences onto someone else’s life.
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Everything Is Up For Grabs
Where did that come from?Why did he do that?
I would have never thought to do it that way…
The phrases parents regularly use to understand their children often have a basis in biology. It is assumed that your children, not only look like you but should act or behave like you do (or did as a child).
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My House is Me
“My house is me and I am
it. My house is where I like
to be and it looks like all my
dreams.” –Mr. Plumbean
I taught First Grade…forever. One of the favorite ways to kick off the school year was with a week of color experiences. On “orange day” I would always read “The Big Orange Splot” by Daniel Pinkwater. In it, Mr. Plumbean has a house and yard that don’t blend in on his “neat street”. Day by day, neighbors come to his house and leave to create their own dream house. Following the reading, we would talk about all the things we would include in the house of OUR dreams. 6-year-olds included lots of slides, pools, TVs, and game rooms. This activity always made me a bit nervous.
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Matching Not Required
This is me at 4 years old. Yeah, I can still sleep pretty much anywhere, anytime… It seems that lately, I am so tired at the end of the day that I often get into bed–clothes on. I have a new day job that is really intense. when I get home, I shower, do my hair, put on a pinch of makeup, and go take care of dinner. So when I say that I get in bed fully clothed, that means socks and a bra also.
But life has not always been so crazy.
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Red Tray Diet
I have been a yoyo dieter. Throughout my life, my weight has gone up and down and up and down. Not dramatically really. Most people probably would say that I’ve weighed about the same throughout my life. As an adult, my high and low weights have differed by about 35 pounds or so.
But I know when I feel good. I know when my clothes fit and when I feel good in my skin. But that doesn’t mean that I’ve never struggled with body image or dieting.
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Early Bird Wannabe
Here are the grandmas on a “work weekend”. It’s probably around midnight. See one grandma is snoozing and the other is waiting for the party to begin! In college, my mom and two grandmas would come up to Eau Claire and help decorate my dorm room or apartment. Inevitably, we would chat for a while, go out to eat, and begin working on our 10 pm. I would begin to fade at about 1:00 am, and mom was just hitting her stride.
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The Snow Police
Kadon and Luka are excited about the snow–2009. When I first started teaching, one of the first purchases I needed was a warm winter coat and snow pants for recess duty. Kids are all running around and warm, but the adults are just standing there–watching, protecting…policing.
I think it is interesting how snow brings out the joy and excitement in children. One good snowfall and they are all rolling snowmen and trying to throw snowballs (without getting caught).
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Christmas Adulting
One big drawback of being an adult is that I am the one responsible for the setup and clean-up of celebrations and events.
I think this is Luka’s decorated gingerbread house. As a child, I looked forward to Christmas–the music, the sugar cookies, Santa, family gatherings, and presents. But now…I’m the one who makes the cookies, invites the guests, buys the gifts, decorates…
Oh yes, the decorations.
When I was little, I loved having a Christmas tree. I loved the smell of the real thing. Our tree had all sorts of decorations and big colorful lights. Mom would put up the tree about a week before Christmas and then keep it up forever. (We have more recently witnessed the tree make it past “3 Kings Day” to see St. Patrick’s Day!)
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Holiday Traditions
Traditions…We have many holiday traditions in our family. It seems that new experiences and activities continue to be added.
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It’s a Wonderful Life
“You’ve been given a great gift, George, a chance to see what the world would be like without you.”This is what the guardian angel, Clarence, says after revealing an alternative reality to George.
I love movies that give a glimpse into how our choices (or in the case of this great Christmas movie) and our very existence change the future for ourselves and others who we touch.
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The First Leon (Noel backwards)
When we lived on Cherokee Rd. we were the first house built in the area. Our house was on a curved road surrounded by fields. In December, mom would pick me and Chelle up from Grandma’s in December. We would drive around town looking at the lights and decorations. We would arrive home after dark. She would pull up the driveway and as the garage door slowly opened, it was my job to get the mail.This sounds so easy.
It wasn’t.
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She Can Do It all
This job list is from when I was about 11 years old. Saturday mornings were for cleaning when I was a child. Mom worked in the morning and then went grocery shopping. Michelle and I were left at home to get our chores done.
I remember that my responsibilities not only included making my bed and cleaning my room, scrubbing sinks, and toilets, and vacuuming the house but also motivating my sister to get her jobs done as well.
THAT was the challenge!
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That’s Attractive…NOT
I don’t know how or when I started chewing my fingernails, but I remember when I made myself stop. I was teaching. First Graders are germy, have runny noses, and are not overly concerned with restroom hygiene. I decided that biting my nails was unprofessional, juvenile, and just plain gross.But where do you go with that nervous energy?
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Big Sister Power
I remember the night that I became a big sister. Mom was at the hospital and dad took me to the PizzaVilla. He worked there on the weekends delivering pizzas. He ordered the two of us a large with a different topping on each slice. Standing below the counter, I remember him holding me up so I could approve his special order.That was the beginning of my experience as the oldest child in our family. But being a big sister was important and “perks” came with the position!
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A Toddler With a Knife
It doesn’t matter if I want to do the thing or not…I still procrastinate. Procrastination often occurs when I’m tired and the activity takes some mental energy.For example, I’m supposed to edit a post about..procrastination…for our Sidetracked Sisters blog…
I love taking pictures, looking at old photos, creating images using software, and posting on social media. But I still procrastinate!
AND my procrastination strategies are SOOOOO sneaky!
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Don’t Mess With the Original
I know that back in the day, kids would go from house to house Trick-or-Treating with a pillowcase to collect candy–not even necessarily wearing costumes. Halloween, as we know it today, began in the 1930s with children receiving homemade cookies and pieces of cake, fruit, nuts, coins, and small toys.
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Thank You Title IX
Today girls can be both a girly girl and a chef, a ballerina and an artist, a princess, and an athlete. Life was a bit more lopsided when I was a child, although I didn’t realize at the time how much things WERE changing. I have always been open to liking and participating in sports. It’s just that I’m not that good.
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No Turning Back
First Grade It was the summer before Second Grade that I got my hair cut short. I remember loving momo’s new short pixie/shag. Mom warned me that there was no going back when you make a decision to go short.
So go short I did.
Mom actually still has the thick blondish ponytail that her friend Tom cut off (he was a barber) before beginning my transformation.
I quickly realized that I preferred long hair. But as mom warned, “There is no turning back!”
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Comfortable in Your Own Skin
I remember my first foray into the land of makeup…
Everyday Me
Julie and I walked downtown. It was late summer and a new school year was approaching–7th grade. We went to Langmack’s Drug Store (think Ace Hardware, not Sephora) and stood before a wall of pastel powders, concealing pastes, and sparkling creams. Julie chose a pinkish shade of a liquid Covergirl blush. I chose the same brand that was more peachy. Covergirl. The name seemed appropriate for girls shopping for our first cosmetics.
Wednesday, September 25, 2022, 4:24 pm This wasn’t grandma’s lipstick abruptly rubbed on my cheeks to “give me a little color”.
This initial memory is just the beginning of my addiction (a little too strong of a word perhaps) to make-up. You see, I’m one of those who feel almost naked without something on my face. Even during the Covid lockdown, I continued my full-face routine. Every. Day.
I have occasionally tried to go without but always come back.
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Fun Dad
“I want to be a fun dad,” my husband said.
His eyes sparkled
with tearful anticipation
as we worked to adopt our sons from Russia.
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The Grass is Always Greener
When I was a kid, I had so many opportunities for anticipation. I kind of look at it from the standpoint of “the grass is always greener”…You know, I thought others seem to be in a better situation than me, although they may not be. But other times, I just loved looking ahead to what I KNEW would be special times in the future.
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Freedom and Jesus
I always knew I would go to college. It was more than growing up, more than the next step…it was freedom!
Actually, I didn’t even know there was an option. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered that my dad didn’t really believe that I would go…and graduate. (I’m kinda glad that no one ever shared that little detail with me.)
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The Infertility Mountain
I turned 30 in 1994. Tom and I had moved to Sun Prairie to be closer to my family when we began having children of our own. Unfortunately, starting a family turned out to NOT be so straightforward. And that is the theme of my 30s…infertility.
“You have been assigned this mountain to show others it can be moved.” -Anonymous
Here is my “baby” Eli. Before Tom and I divorced, we separated for a while. Within days of him moving out, I bought a dog. We began trying to start our family when I was 27. We got divorced, childless, when I was 33. Then I married Craig when I was 35. More infertility work followed. We got Luka and Kadon from Russia in 2006, when I was 41.
It seemed like the goal to start/have a family colored every event of that decade. To say that my clock was ticking VERY LOUDLY is not overstating the facts. -
Music Thru the Ages
I’m really good at identifying the year a song came out. Doing such guessing games with friends–I always associate music with a tie from my life.
“It only takes one song to bring back a thousand memories.”
1968I remember Peter Paul & Mary playing on my parent’s beige alarm clock radio. I was laying on their bed and watching my mom getting ready to go out. Her hair was fixed fancy and she was in a dress and was wearing perfume. I thought, “Why does the good music always come on when I’m asleep in bed?”
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The Power of Red Nail Polish
As a child, I spent late afternoons during the school year and long summer days with my grandma Is. She wasn’t a teacher by trade, but she taught me what was important through constant example.
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Rhubarb Custard Pie
When It was summer, I was the one responsible for mowing grandma Is’ lawn. In the backyard, I would make slow careful circles around her peonies and rhubarb patch.
The peonies would bloom and later be held up with a circular piece of chicken wire through the summer. The rhubarb grew unrestricted. Leaves were generously pulled–never cut–from the plant. I would pull and single stalk and suck on the puckeringly tart end as I sat on the hard dry ground under the weeping willow. The cicadas song sounded like the power lines vibrating. I loved the late afternoon when the cooing of morning doves was accompanied by other lawn mowers humming from distant yards.Grandma would bring in an armload of the big-leafed stalks to make her rhubarb custard pie.
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A Turtle’s Timid Transformation
I used http://www.spiritanimal.info to determine my spirit animal. The turtle was what I have been drawn to for years. I wear a bracelet every day with one on it. The turtle reminds me to take small, steady steps toward my goals.But apparently, my spirit animal can change. Who knew?
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Three Wishes … No Thank You
Okay, for some crazy reason, maybe a genie, a shooting star, maybe a fairy, birthday candles, or perhaps a leprechaun unbelievably grants me three wishes.What would I wish?
Now, I have never bought a lottery ticket.
I was once given tokens to spend as part of a weekend package that included a visit to a casino. I gave the tokens away.
So this opportunity will be a real challenge for me. How big or small should I wish? Well…
Health, wealth, and happiness are the first things that come to mind.
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Vibrant ’til the End
**This is a writing. It is not real.**
Lisa passed at the age of 100 leaving her husband of 65 years, Craig, three grown children, their spouses, and bucket loads of grand and great-grandchildren. -
The Creepy Black Moon
I lay in my bed mid-afternoon. The orange curtains made the softened sunlight somehow warmer. Bored, my eyelids would slowly close—a childhood naptime–the sweet stuff of adult memories.
But in the evening, the same room seemed sinister. The closet door hid unknown horrors. Under my bed lurked creatures just waiting for me to close my eyes so that they could come out and “get me”.
Even today, I remember the window, through which I could view the full moon.
I woke up one night and lay in the bed, dreading the idea of getting out and having my feet touch the floor. So I lay there. The only thing that protected me was the sheets and blankets that were pulled up tight under my chin. I felt safe, safer with the protection of the layers of cloth.
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So Much More Than the Story
What makes someone a reader?
Doesn’t everyone love stories?
I think I was born loving books. In Beaver Dam, I loved the old stuffy, overheated public library when I was a child. The wide entrance stairway led to a foyer where you could go left to the adult area. Or, you could turn right and go up a creaky flight of stairs to the children’s room. It held a vague feeling of…expectation. -
Making the Wrong Decision
There is a 1980 song called “Freewill” by Rush that spoke to my adolescent metaphysical angst about the meaning of life. The repeating snippet that has stuck in my soul since I was a High School sophomore is…
“You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice.
If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.”
I met my first husband, Tom, during the first week of my freshman year at college. He was tall and charismatic. The leader of his church student group, he seemed so sure of himself. Church leaders trusted him and were molding him to take a leadership role in the group. A confident musician, he sang and played guitar in the worship group during Sunday service. I saw him as talented, smart, and goal-driven. -
A Crash Far From Home
So, here she is at the beginning of the summer. It was the summer of 1986. I drove my brown 1972 Mercury Comet to Washington DC for a Church Leadership training conference.
Having my own car gave me an awesome feeling of independence and freedom!
I drove daily to work and felt familiar with the traffic near the University of Maryland, College Park, campus where I was staying.
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Cover That Hoo-ha
I’m sitting on a sandy beach towel. It’s the summer of 1978 and I coyly look toward the camera. Although my pose looks comfortable, I am inwardly hesitant and unsure. I feel like my swimsuit is comfortable and fits me. The blue is slimming on my hips and the bold white and pink chevron draws the eyes up. My feminine asserts…my boobs were the focus. But even with this beautiful body in a gorgeous, flattering suit…I feel self-conscious. -
A Struggle for Dad’s Approval
I am a pig-tailed, 4-year-old girl, demurely leaning against my dad’s extended knee. He is half kneeling in some wild daisies beside tall sheltering pines. He is grinning with pride at the camera, my right hand is thoughtfully touching his chin. My adoring eyes are on his face as I take the first bite out of a perfect red apple. It is a 1969 photo of peace and approval. It is the goal I seem to be always reaching for. -
Manifesting the Perfect Day
Engagement–a few months before My wedding was going to be intimate, serene, and perfect. I imagined it that way and worked thoughtfully on the details.
Few events in life have as many deep customs, subtle nuances, and crazy rituals, AND opportunities for things to go wrong–like a wedding.
My wedding day, July 7, 2000, began sunny and bright with POSSIBLE showers later in the day. We were celebrating the event at the Heidel House. It was a quaint, secluded resort on the shores of Green Lake in Wisconsin.
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Hippy Dippy vs Healthy and Grounded
How do you “self-care”?
Well, the first thing you need to know is “What IS self-care anyway? According to the Googles, it is “doing something that helps your body, mind or soul feel good”.
Hippy Dippy
Oh god, this brings up visions of a bubble bath in a claw-footed tub, a meditation on an Indian-patterned pillow in a sunlit studio, yoga on an open patio overlooking the ocean, and long walks in an old-growth forest. So hippy-dippy, so self-indulgent and unrealistic.
Now, the other day, I was walking on a cool morning along a country road. The road was lined with dandelions. Millions and billions of dandelions. I know Evie and Stella (my Golden Retriever walking companions) thought I was crazy as I slowed down and began to take pictures. Then I reached down to one random flower/weed and plucked it. And you know what we used to do as kids? We would rub the flower under our chin and ask…”Do I like butter?”
If there was yellow pollen on your neck, you did. -
You Can Do It!
What are three words that describe me…? When you’re working on legacy writing, sometimes you want people to know how awesome you are! Come on, you can do it!!!
For this topic, the Sidetracked Sisters each prepared by thinking of words to describe the others. I even asked my daughter Aubrey to add a word for everyone. Then, when we got together to write, each of us didn’t have to be digging around for defining words, we could just sort, accept, or reject words that were chosen for us.
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Shame on You
Worry, shame, suffering, depression, regret…sucky emotions that I try to avoid in my life at all costs.
A Wise old woman was talking to a girl and said,
“There are two wolves always fighting inside me.
One is filled with anger, hate, jealousy, shame, and lies.
The other wolf is filled with love, joy, truth, and peace.
This battle rages inside of you and all people.”
The girl thought for a moment and asked,
“Which wolf will win?”
The Wise old woman answered,
“The one you feed.”
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Piggy Bank Love
I loved my piggy bank. When I was 6 years old, I would pull the plastic plug out of her belly and dump the pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters out onto my bed. Next, I would sort the coins into piles. Then I would organize the piles into smaller groups of 100 cents. I felt rich.
As a 12-year-old, my mom would give me spending money for our yearly family vacation. During the week-long camping trip at Jellystone Campground, I had the opportunity to go mini-golfing and to spend my money on treats and souvenirs. It felt so powerful to have the choice to buy as much ice cream as I wanted–or not. I would walk around the camp store every day admiring the mugs, keychains, and refrigerator magnets. I could buy any of these things. But I didn’t. Instead, I always counted my leftover money at the end of the week and added it to my piggy bank. I felt rich. -
The Bucket List: Fill, Empty, and Repeat
I’ve always believed in goals, dreams, and bucket lists. But that doesn’t mean that they are easy for me.
Back in college, I spent the summer of 1985 in Washington DC at a church Youth Leadership Training Conference. Everyone worked full-time and attended activities and training in the evenings and on weekends.
During one of the first trainings, we were encouraged to have daily “quiet time” when we were supposed to read the Bible and pray. One of the goals of this activity was to gain clarity on our life goals.
Unfortunately, God did not reach his gaze down and bestow this wisdom upon me.
I knew that I wanted to finish my degree, get married, and have 13 children. This sounded pretty godly and was approved–as long as I looked to and depended upon my future husband as my head and leader.
Yeah. Right.
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The Hardest Choices
Life is full of change, challenges, and choices. School, college, what am I going to be when I grow up, finding a life partner, divorce, infertility, adoption, work drama, relationship drama, health drama… the list goes on.
Most challenges come and we muddle through to the best of our ability. We don’t see the challenge of a health scare coming, but we rally our resources to research and battle the event.Our kids challenge us with choices and behaviors that we tackle on a regular basis. We talk to their teachers and go on long car rides and try to talk some sense in an effort to guide a nearly adult teen to make “good” decisions.
But the hardest challenges are those we choose. No medical diagnosis or call from the police to knock us back on our heels and force change. The challenge that I’ve struggled with over the years has always been “What am I going to be when I grow up?”
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Turn it OFF!!
*Screen time is time spent watching TV, using the computer, and cell phone.
*Research shows that the average household has more televisions than people and has them on for more than 8 hours per day.
*Adults average about 8.5 hours of screen time per day.
*Aim for no more than 2 hours of screen time per day outside of work.
Image from Shel Silverstein’s poem “Jimmy Jet and His TV Set Back in the early 2000s, we would sponsor something called “TV turn-off” at the school where I taught. We would encourage families to commit to one week where households wouldn’t turn on their TVs. Probably 20% of the families participated or tried to anyway.
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On Children
How much influence do we really have over our children?Aubrey and I were at Texas Roadhouse with four other mom-daughter couples. We were talking about random topics when the subject of birth stories came up. Aubrey and I quietly listened to everyone’s stories.
I don’t even know the exact time she was born in the early hours of July 27, 2009.
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Easter and Moldy Money
I remember Easter as being disappointing when I was young. My focus wasn’t on family or food. Jesus wasn’t the primary reason for this season. It was mostly just another opportunity for presents.
I’d get sidewalk chalk or a skateboard and a jump rope…but would be unable to play with these toys because there was always snow on the ground. Once, I got a cute little sleeveless sundress that I would freeze my ass off when I wore it to church. One year I wore a wide-brimmed white Easter hat. I’m actually not sure if I wore it or not, but it had its own drawer for years afterward–never worn again.
When I was a bit older, we would always have breakfast after Easter service at church.
The tradition of decorating hardboiled eggs began when I was a child and continues now with my children. The smell of vinegar at any time of the year brings me right back to this activity with my Grandma Is. Now we go to my mother-in-law’s house to craft our beauties. As we cover the table with newspaper and pour vinegar into coffee cups–the memories come flooding back. -
Snakes, and Piggies, and Dragons…Oh, My
It was spring, 1971. I was in First Grade. We actually had a long enough lunchtime that students could go home mid-day to eat before returning for afternoon classes.
On this sunny, noontime, I was crossing the mowed lot adjacent to our home. Walking through the low-cut weeks, I saw a couple of little garter snakes slithering away from my feet. I quickly grabbed one in each hand and brought them home. Going into the house through the garage, I saw a big cardboard box sitting on the garbage cans. A perfect spot to save my snakes for later! -
Sister…I’m Going West!
It was a beautiful spring afternoon in 1975. My 5-year-old sister, Michelle, and I trekked across the freshly plowed field towards the rock hill on the edge of our grandparent’s acreage. A warm wind was blowing and we stood together on the top of the hill. Without much thought, I began walking down the “backside”. For some reason, Michelle asked me where I was going.
“West”, I answered. “I’m going west!” I repeated.
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Family–Not “If” but “When”
I’ve always known I wanted a family. When I was in elementary school, I was committed to adoption. At the age of 10, I didn’t want to contribute to world overpopulation.
As college students involved in an evangelical, fundamentalist church, my fiance (Tom) and I discussed–and were excited–about the idea of 13 children! This idea also served to traumatize both sets of our parents.8754457
Then, as a young married couple, we decided to divorce because I continued to be committed to the prospect of raising a child/children. However, my husband’s feelings had changed. He enjoyed and believed a more carefree life that focused on music was more in-line with his needs.
Craig and I When I met Craig, I shared with him on our first date that I wanted a family–but it wouldn’t be easy. He was game for pursuing infertility work or adoption from the very beginning.
You see, I had actively begun trying to get pregnant after 5 years of marriage with my first husband. It was 1992. Like so many couples, we just assumed it would happen quickly when the decision was made.
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Comfort Foods
As a child, I spent my days with my Grandma Is. She took care of me while my mom worked. We would play cards. She read the “Daily Citizen” newspaper from beginning to end and painted her fingernails her favorite bright red color.
Summer days followed a familiar routine. The tv was never turned on (it was only re-runs anyway). I played with neighborhood kids or worked on my coloring books. The best part of the day was lunch…my favorite.
We’d go into the kitchen together, she’d set a small pot to boil on the stove. While it got hot, she sliced 4 pieces of summer sausage and laid out 3 sweet bread and butter pickles in a shallow bowl. Once the water was boiling, she would carefully and precisely measure exactly one cup of noodles. I would cajole her to make a heaping cup…so she would compromise by adding a pinch more noodles.
Once the noodles were done, she’d dump out the water and add butter and salt before adding them to my bowl. A glass of milk in a pastel metal drinking glass completed the meal.
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Comfort Before Beauty
I give quite a bit of thought to what I put on my body. One of my rules of thumb is that “life is too short to wear uncomfortable shoes”! -
No Worries
It was June 1981. I was more excited than nervous. The next day, I was going to the Department of Motor Vehicles for the road test for my driver’s permit. It was dark out when dad and I drove out of town to the DMV to practice the skills I would be demonstrating the next day. I pulled out of the parking lot at the same time that people were entering the local racetrack for an event. Traffic was heavy for our small rural town. I took a left onto the highway and was unaware of the cars around me. I turned into the far lane, instead of the closest lane. Within one minute of my practice, I had shown my dad that I was NOT ready to drive the family care independently and safely. -
The Consequence of NOT Cleaning UP
I was so tired that night in 1999. Instead of cleaning up the kitchen before bed, I promised myself that I would take care of the dishes and pot from our chicken dinner first thing in the morning.Later, I woke up slightly and smelled bacon cooking. I thought, “Huh, Craig must be home.”
Still later, I woke up a little more and smelled burned bacon. I got up and walked along the hall and down the stairs. As I neared the bottom of the staircase, a thick cloud of smoke erased the landing.
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Home Sweet Home
When I considered moving back to my hometown, we had a real estate agent show us house after house in our price range. All were in good neighborhoods, but considered “fixer-uppers”. Then he showed us a red brick home in the heart of downtown and we were in love.
After moving there, my marriage came to an end and the house became solely mine. -
My Feisty Grandma
Grandma Doris is one of the major reasons that I wanted to start Sidetracked Legacies. She was fun and feisty. But she’s been gone since June 2007 and it’s only now that I realize just how little I actually knew about her.
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First Kisses
My first kiss was in elementary school. We were playing boys chase girls at recess. When caught, the boy would kiss his catch. Sean chased me down the grassy hill. The girls around me laughed and screamed. He grabbed me by the back of my shirt. I pulled my long hair over my face as my foot slipped and I landed on the ground. His face touched the hair covering my forehead.
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New Year…a Commitment to Change
I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions. As a teacher, I’ve always considered the school year the beginning and ending of life, with the summer as a buffer zone.
Starting the 1973-74 school year with high hopes Every August, I would sit down and think about the ways I wanted the upcoming school year to go. I yearly focused on having one family meal each week, another year, I organized my dinner plans in a rotating schedule…Monday–pasta, Tuesday–tacos…I usually worked to organize my brain around making my home and family life sane. While working as a full-time teacher with three kids, life was full…busy…chaotic.
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Lisa Hoffman, an Introduction
I am an onion. Well, you know, not a REAL onion, I’m just talking metaphorically here.As I age, each year wraps around and over the previous. Year by year memories are formed and covered with new layers.
I know, this whole onion person metaphor is kind of weird, but I really like onions, so work with me here…
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Sidetracked Legacies
Now that I’ve left teaching (and my kids are back at school (no more Covid shutdowns–I hope) I am in the process of reinventing my life.
Specifically, I’m working on developing a new career plan…and that begins with strategic daily routines and new avenues to create and contribute. One new addition to my life is something called “Sidetracked Legacies”.My morning starts with getting up, putting on my exercise clothes, and spending a few minutes with my kids before they head off to school. Then I head out for a “momma jog” with the pups, Stella and Evie. I use this time to listen to podcasts. The two that I regularly tap into lately are “The Life Coach School” by Brooke Castillo and “Don’t Keep Your Day Job” by Cathy Heller. These are timely and interesting since I’m on the road to becoming a certified life coach and launching my own podcasts…soon! They hit me right where I’m at.