Meet Me in the Aisles

He's not a hearts and flowers kind of guy, so I don't expect a romantic dinner with candles and wine.  Neither of us likes to dress up, so we don't go to fancy restaurants often.  We've done the big chain fondue restaurant once (we liked it despite the price tag), and we've done the local steak house and swooned over the melt-in-your-mouth 10 oz. Delmonico.  We've gone to romantic movies, shared ice cream sundaes, and picnicked in the shadow of the Red Rocks in Sedona.

Honestly, though, our best date night is spent cruising the aisles of our local Trader Joe's without kids in tow.

REALLY?

Yes, really.  See, I'm somewhat of a foodie.  He is NOT; however, he is willing to try new things within reason.  So while I can't get him to eat the carrot and cilantro bulgur grain salad, he will try the chicken pesto sausage.  And with offerings like a .75 lb. package of fresh lobster ravioli for $7.99, Trader Joe's makes it easy for one to eat like a gourmand and without busting your grocery budget.

With kids in tow, my husband and I have been known to spend a mere 30 minutes in the store, dashing down the aisles and picking up two weeks' worth of essentials while trying not to put too many of the "Mom, we really want these" items in the cart.  On date night, we can peruse the aisles at a leisurely rate reading labels, creating menus in our conversations, and imaging ourselves as the next "Chopped" champion.

I'll admit, it's not your typical date night place, but it can be romantic if you are a foodie.

And if your husband sneaks back into the store and buys you your favorite sea salt chocolate covered caramels.......and a dozen yellow roses priced at $9.99.

Later daze.......

Endings and Beginnings

This is the part when you let go of the bicycle.

Then you watch your child take off on their own.

Happy Graduation day, my beloved daughter.  I can't wait to see what's next.

Waxing Sentimental

I bought a new car.

Well, it's not new.  It's three years old, but the reason it's a big deal in my family is we're not known for buying cars on a frequent basis.  On average, I'd guess Americans buy/lease a new car every three years.  That average probably goes down to every one-to-two years if the car is used and older than, say, three years.  My husband and I, in 25 years of premarital and connubial bliss, have purchased a TOTAL of four cars, only ONE of which was brand new.  Additionally, the only brand new car I have ever purchased was just after my college graduation, so you can see that a car purchase is a fairly rare occurrence in this family.

My "new" car is three years old and had only 14k miles on it when purchased.  It was a lease turn-in by a retired couple, so it was immaculate and passed the certified used inspection with very high marks (save for needing new tires).

Given that I drove my previous car for ten years (it was a one-year old car when I purchased it), my kids (now ages 18 and 14) grew up in the car.

That's a lot of living, don't you think?

I am a pretty sentimental person, but even I had to admit I was abnormally attached to a minivan that was prone to breaking down every three months in the past year.  I couldn't help but remember all of the milestones and memories that were locked up in that vehicle.

1. My son began kindergarten just months after I bought that van.
2. My son spilled a vanilla milkshake in it just a few weeks after we bought it; we were on our way out-of-town for a family vacation and were only two miles from home.
3. My great-niece puked in it just months after we purchased it.
4. Each of my children has eaten countless meals and completed hundreds of homework assignments by the dome light of the van, waiting for the other sibling to complete dance class, basketball practice, or martial arts training.  These happened when my husband worked out-of-town (which happened several times in the past ten years), and I was having to drive back and forth between kids' activities.
5. We've driven from here to Southern California and back for vacation once each year for the past ten years.
6. My children have ridden home from two 8th grade graduations, and three black belt graduations in that car.
7. My family has brought me home from far too many trips to the hospital in that car.
8. My daughter learned to drive in that car.

The list could go on indefinitely.  I'm mindful of the fact that it was just a car, a hunk of metal with moving parts.  The real treasure was what happened as result of it:  a family lived a life of laughter and love, and THAT is what I will keep in my heart.

TTFN.....

Seeking: One Lithe-Bodied, Free-Spirited Young Woman........

........trapped in the shell of a middle-aged, arthritic suburban mom.  Have you seen her?  You know, the one who let herself go?

Yeah.  I know.  I've seen her, too.  Often.  In my mirror multiple times a day.

You'd think I'd make the connection, make the change, but I just can't seem to do it.  First it was going to be after baby #1.  Then it was going to be after baby #2.  And now baby #1 is eighteen years old and on the verge of beginning her adult life, taking classes at the local state university, meeting new people, going on dates, and living her own life.  Away from mom.

Sigh.......I'm not ready yet.  I'm really not ready.  It took me years to think of myself as a stay-at-home, fully committed MOTHER.  Now my paradigm is I'm ONLY MOM.

What happened to that free-spirited, risk-taking woman I knew?  The one who could charm a room of strangers, especially men?

I'm seeking her.

The Shadow

I know a thing or two about growing up in the shadow of achievement.  I am the youngest of five daughters, and one of them in particular was rather accomplished in school (the #3 daughter).  As a young student, I was compared favorably to this sibling:  "Oh, you're getting excellent grades just like your sister!" and "Oh, you'll be accepted to college early just like your sister!"

It was a heavy burden.  As the first-American born daughter in a family of immigrants, there were high expectations in our family.  My parents came to the United States so that their children would have better educational opportunities, so I was born knowing that much was expected of me.  It was easy at first.  I was learning to speak when my family was learning English, so learning to read at a very young age was not that extraordinary.  Throughout my early grade school years, my grades were nearly perfect, so it was only natural that my parents had me tested to see if I was "gifted."  I was summarily transferred to a "gifted" school in order to be amongst my so-called peers.

By the time high school came around, however, it was apparent I wasn't really all that extraordinary.  I struggled mightily my first semester, and I nearly failed English class, which had always been my strongest subject.  I rallied, though, and graduated with honors, but by then the luster had worn off.  My parents knew I wasn't the second coming of the Golden Child (their #3 daughter).  Sadly, my parents never lived long enough to see me graduate from university and graduate school, but they did witness my graduation from junior college.  I think they were proud.

Fast forward to present day.  My first-born is a Golden Child:  accomplished in academics and music, and a recipient of numerous character awards.  She belongs to several honor societies and is considered a leader by her some of peers.  She is well liked and has many friends.  Most people know who she is by her laugh, her singing voice, and her long, long hair.  It's difficult not to notice her when she's in a group.

My son is the second-born, the only son.  He has a sensitive heart, and a goofy sense of humor.  He earned three black belts in tae kwon do before the age of 14 and loves to play video games.  He has never had many friends, bullies picked on him throughout grade school, and girls thought he was "weird."  He is very bright, but he doesn't think he is.  He hates doing homework, isn't that motivated, and his grades have never reflected his ability - only his lack of output.

Wednesday night, it was his turn to step out of the shadow of his Golden Child sister and be in the limelight.  After a late-semester surge, my funny and amazing son pulled his grades up and earned an honor cord for academic achievement for first semester.

I always knew he could shine.  Now he knows it, too.

TTFN!

What a Waste

I got pulled over by the state highway patrol on Saturday.

By my standards, it was late.  I was driving to Sedona, about 1.75 hours north of me, to hear my older child, my talented daughter, sing with her high school choir at a lovely chapel located on the edge of the town's famed red rocks.  They were coming home from a choir festival in Flagstaff, and their stop at the chapel was nice side trip for them.  Because my daughter is a senior, I wanted to hear her sing one last time in this gorgeous venue.

I left home 30 minutes later than I had planned, and then traffic heading north was unbelievably heavy.  It felt like rush hour traffic in downtown Phoenix - yuck!  By the time I exited the interstate and was heading into Sedona on the two-lane highway, I was 20 minutes away from my destination, and the choir was scheduled to sing in ten minutes.  Uh oh........

Naturally, I decided to open it up a bit and try to make up some time.  The guy behind me must have been drafting me, because he started to speed up too.

Unfortunately, too late did I step on the brakes.  I spied the highway patrolman as he made a U-turn and flip on his lightbar.  The kick in my gut was jolting.

The driver behind me pulled over to let the cop come up behind me.  I eventually found a pullout, and stopped my car.  My hands shaking like an LA skyscraper during a quake, I managed to find the registration and insurance card in the glovebox and hand it to the very nice officer.

Turns out the truck behind me was also being pulled over, so he nudged his gigantic F-150 in front of my tiny Civic.

Several minutes later, the policeman returned from his car to hand me my citation.  He was very kind and sympathetic to my agony.  He told me he was "cutting me a bit of a break" and not citing me for speeding.  Instead, noting a fairly new law in our state, he was citing me with wasting of natural resources.  So, instead of being fined $140 and earning some lovely points on my driving record, I was fined $60 and received no points.  I thanked him, carefully nudged my car out onto the highway, and proceeded down the road to my destination, driving approximately 3-5 miles under the speed limit.  It wasn't until I arrived at the chapel (on time, due to the choir being delayed), that I saw the humor in the situation.

I was charged with "wasting natural resources".................while driving a hybrid vehicle.

TTFN!

This is a Test of the Non-Emergency, Dazed and Confused Broadcast System

I'm back.

Did you miss me?

I missed writing.  I didn't think I would, despite my assertions that writing is in my blood.  The problem, however, is that I despise it when I must produce, such as when I was writing for a magazine.  Oh, I adored getting those checks, and I preened a bit when a total stranger admitted to reading my articles.  I do, however, loathe deadlines.

So, I set about taking a break in blogging to rejuvenate my creative spirit, and my hiatus ended up being a few years long.

Admittedly, part of the reason I took a break was for a good reason:  I was raising children after all.  And the fact that you have followed me to my new piece of cyber real estate means that you must know I vacated my previous premises because of a stalker.

So here I am.  In all my glory.  Again.  Those of you who followed me here probably already know my true identity, so I thought it ridiculous to hide my whereabouts.  Truth be told, I am a bit wary that my stalker might find me here, but I believe she is harmless.  Mostly.  If she finds me here, I will deal with that then.

Thanks again for tuning in to my broadcast.  I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

TTFN!