Category Archives: change

Spoons and Forks Only

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I’m struggling a little bit with this phase of my life. For twenty years I’ve been a mom. That’s been my thing. And I’m a pretty good one, too. Not perfect. Not great. But pretty good. I mean, my kids have made it to 17 and 20 with a minimum of mental and/or emotional scarring so that must say something.

It is easily the best and most fulfilling thing I’ve ever done. But now, all of a sudden it seems, my services are no longer as necessary. Sure, I’ll always be their mom. That will never change. And sure, they’ll always need me to some extent. But they have their own lives now. Taylor just started his third year of college yesterday. And while he still technically lives at home, he was only here for a very short time this past summer because he was off being a young adult in another city. And I may be jumping the gun where Katie is concerned, but she gets so busy with school, work, church, singing, friends, etc., that she’s hardly ever home either. And in another year there’s no telling where she’ll be.

I’m glad for them. I’m proud of them. I want this for them. This independence. This making their own way in the big world. This cutting of the apron strings…

Okay. So the apron strings aren’t completely cut yet. But they are being sawed on with a table knife. Slowly but surely, each thread of the string is being severed and I’m helpless to stop it. And I don’t necessarily want to stop it. Except I really, really want to stop it. Just for a little while longer. I’d like to take away the knife and hand it back when I’m ready.

And nobody ever told me that the apron strings keep a mother’s heart afloat. With each thread that snaps I feel my heart sink just the teensiest bit. I suppose, though, that it’s the selfless love of a mother that keeps the heart from plummeting completely. The love that motivates my desire for my children to become the adults that God wants them to be. Even if that means that someday they will not just go to college far from home, but may actually live far from me.

I recently told them both that I demand they always live within three hours of me and have at least two, three would be better, but four would be preferable, children once they are married and settled. They both said okay, but I get the feeling they thought I was joshing. Maybe because I don’t have a great track record as a daughter where those demands are concerned. (FYI – my mother never placed that demand on me.)

A friend of mine had a very premature baby a couple of months ago and he was finally able to come home for the first time about a week or so ago. It was very questionable for a while as to whether or not he would even survive. Thankfully he did survive and is doing quite well now. This is her first child and she made a comment to me that I’ve heard several other women make about a child that they could have lost in infancy. She said (paraphrased greatly), “I think I love him even more than most new moms because I almost lost him.” Not to belittle the horror and then profound relief of her or any other mother’s similar situation, but I disagree. Didn’t we all feel like nobody could have ever loved their child as much as we love ours? A mother’s love is a fierce and unimpenetrable force. There is nothing to be done against it.

So why am I so surprised at how hard all this is on me? Between this and everything going with my dad I feel like there’s always a little bit of sadness just under the surface. I don’t like it. I don’t do sad well.

And here’s the funny thing. I didn’t even start out writing this post! I was going to talk about how I don’t have my kids to play with anymore so now I’m going to play with my friends this afternoon and go kayaking, but this is what came out. Which is why I’ve been so bad about blogging. It’s always a little maudlin so I delete it. I guess I’ll just leave it be – apparently I needed to get it out.

Hopefully I’ll have a much more Jensteresque post after my kayaking adventure with Tina this afternoon!

Taylor is Driving (me crazy)

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Since Thursday was his birthday I didn’t figure it would be very nice to tell on him. But now that we’ve moved passed the special day I can give you the scoop as it relates to him driving.

In March he went to take his driving test. The first thing he had to do was parallel park. He failed the test as soon as his tire hit the curb. So about two weeks later we tried it again.

That time his parallel parking was spot on so he continued on with the exam. Across the parking lot, right turn onto the side street, right turn at the light onto the main road, right turn into the parking lot, and pull into a space. But as he was turning right onto the main road he followed the drivers in front of him into the left hand lane and he failed.

Two weeks later we tried it again. Third time’s a charm, right?? Wrong! This time his parallel parking was a thing of beauty. But supposedly when the instructor told him to pull out he backed up and hit the back barrel. Taylor swears he didn’t and as many times as he’d practiced the maneuver I’m a little skeptical myself. But whatever. Whether he did or didn’t wasn’t the point. The point was the instructor said he did and that’s all that counts. So once again – failed before he ever left the parking lot.

A week ago yesterday (Friday) we went back for his fourth try. I drove to the license center and pulled up to the familiar waiting area. As I was pulling up Taylor got all the paperwork ready, including getting my driver’s license out of my wallet. We switched places and the Hippy Instructor Guy (HIG)came walking up, requesting registration, insurance, Taylor’s permit and my license. Taylor handed him the registration, the insurance, his permit and — oh wait! He no longer had possession of my license. So we both get out of the car to look for it and HIG is looking on the ground; meanwhile cars start pulling up behind us for their tests. Finally I asked if we should just pull over and look for it so he can get on with the business of testing.

It was honestly ridiculous. Taylor had just had my license so we knew it had to be somewhere in the car. I started thinking I was going to have to replace my license when I eventually felt it way under the passenger seat. So we got back into line, bummed out that we were no longer the first but the fourth.

Finally the guy walks up, pleased we found my license, I go into the building and they go off to test. I couldn’t see where they test the parallel parking, but I watched them drive down the hill and through the parking lot instead of parking. Whew! He passed the parallel parking.

Ten minutes later or so they come walking in, both faces unreadable. This is the conversation:

HIG: How many times have you practiced parallel parking?

Taylor: More times than I can count.

HIG: Then why didn’t you use the turn signal when you were pulling in or out?

Taylor: (Face falling while my heart is sinking) I know I turned it on to park. I may have forgotten it when I pulled out though. (I think he should get props for being honest.)

HIG: You may have put the signal on to park and it clicked off when you turned the wheel, but you should have turned it back on.

Taylor: (Looking more and more dejected while I just wanted to cry) Maybe that’s what happened.

HIG: You did fine with the actual parking and you were good about using your signals while you were driving, but you really have to be diligent about using them when you’re parking.

Taylor: Yes, sir.

HIG: (To me) You do know what this means, Young Lady? (Okay. So I kind of liked that he called me young lady.)

Me: (Blank look.)

HIG: Your insurance is about to go up.

Me: (To Taylor while breaking into a huge grin) Do you get it?

Taylor: (Suddenly smiling) Yes.

HIG: Congratulations, son. You did a fine job. Just remember to use your signals all the time.

Taylor: Okay.

Whew! We were both so relieved. I honestly don’t know what either one of us would have done if he’d failed a fourth time. It doesn’t even bear thinking on!

Wednesday night he took the car to Student Leadership and then from there he drove to the church for band practice. I told him the tank was fairly low, gave him my gas card and told him to fill up. Todd drove Katie over to the church for band practice and then Taylor drove them both home.

Thursday morning I wrote the somewhat mushy post to commemorate his birthday, filled with warm fuzzies and nostalgia and all that tripe. Then I left for work in a car with NO GAS. No more warm fuzzies. No more nostalgia. Only tripe! I was seriously worried I wouldn’t make it to the gas station. Lucky for him: A)I made it to the station; B) it was his birthday; and C) he was at school and I couldn’t call him up for a butt chewing. So I guess he gets a mulligan.

For the most part I like this driving thing. My taxi schedule has been cut significantly and I am definitely okay with that. I just wish my taxi would come back washed and filled.

VICTORY!!

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A month or so ago I told you about some folks who were in jeopardy of losing their home – The “The Just Plain Wrong” portion of The Good, The Bad, and the Just Plain Wrong. Last night the Township Supervisors voted unanimously for a resolution to ban the condemnation of these two properties for use in building a new park or anything else. The Township building was packed with concerned citizens – we didn’t all fit in the actual room and spilled out into the foyer. As you can imagine, there was much applause when the resolution was adopted.

***

When Todd lived at home he would gripe at his dad for not turning the heater on in the early mornings. (Contrary to what some of you may think, early morning in SoCal can be pretty chilly) Now that HE’S the homeowner it’s like pulling teeth to get him to turn on the heater. Thankfully for the rest of us, he’s out of town. Monday night I turned the heater on and it’s a good thing I did. It was 34 degrees yesterday morning! When I told him I turned on the heater he said, “But it’s only October!” I may need to put a lock on the thermostat so he can’t turn it off when he gets home!

***

I watched about an hour of the debate last night. I couldn’t stomach any more than that. This is a totally bipartisan opinion. I’m sick and tired of the lying, the embellishing, the partial truths, the mud slinging — both sides are just as guilty as the other. Frankly, I don’t know who or what to believe. I can’t decide if it keeps getting worse or if it’s just that I keep getting older and am paying closer attention. Whatever the case, I’ll go vote my conscience on that first Tuesday in November and pray for our country and whoever ends up in the White House.

***

Now for the really big news! I’m picking up Sing 4 Joy and God’s Guitar Girl from the airport tonight! Then tomorrow I’ll get to meet His Girl and a few other Chicas! And they’re even going to let me hang out with them on Friday evening and Sunday evening!

Tomorrow I’m taking S4J and GGG into Philadelphia and dropping them off to do their thing while I take the kids to the Franklin Institute to see the Pirates Exhibit (Argh!) and then we might get to catch up with our Hawaiian friends for a bit!

Busy, busy, busy, but FUN, FUN, FUN!

***

As for the hair cut, I’m loving it!! As far as putting a picture on my blog, well, you’ll just have to wait. I’m sure I’ll be posting a few photos from this weekend and you can see it then. But don’t hold me to that!!

***

Okay. I’m off to make my house somewhat presentable for the girls. Gotta go!!

Learning from the Beatles – Part II

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I’ve been kind of, um, oh, I don’t know. “Pissy” is the best word I can think of to describe my attitude lately. Not really angry or mean, but not in the best humor, either. Little things bug me and I don’t have my usual ocean of patience. Okay. Maybe not “usual ocean”, but just not as much patience as I usually have – whatever that may be.

There’s no discernible reason for my less than cheery attitude. Not one that I can come up with anyway. And since introspection is not my thing I’ll just let it ride its course and hopefully it will be over with ASAP.

The beeping alarm at 6:30 this morning did little to improve my mood. If it hadn’t been such a chore to open my eyes I would have glared daggers at Todd for agreeing to go to the 8:00 service. I knew my disposition was not exactly pleasing to God and I really tried to change the direction of my thoughts, but I was just so tired. And being so tired was making me pouty and grumbly. I get up at 6:30 five days a week just so I can see Taylor before he leaves for school at 6:45! Isn’t that sacrifice enough?? Have I told you in the last week just how much I HATE the morning? Especially when it’s cold and the bed is so toasty warm and snuggly.

The hot shower did help quite a bit and by the time we got to church I was feeling much better in my spirit. That’s just one of the ways I know we’re at the right place. I almost get excited when I pull into the parking lot and then when I see my friends I DO get excited.

Today’s Beatles song was “We Can Work It Out” and the topic was anger. Uh, God? Are you talkin’ to me? You? Talkin’ to me? So I’m not yelling at my family or giving them the cold shoulder or even keeping everything inside (because I don’t know what ‘everything’ is), but I am letting stupid things grate on me.

I know God is bigger than the boogy man (Ha! I typed booby man!) and I’m really good about giving all the big stuff to Him. Where I have a problem is not wanting to bother him with the little, seemingly insignificant stuff. Like my inexplicable irritations. And the explicable ones, for that matter. Bad Jen!

So I’m in a waaaay better mood right now. And I don’t think it’s just because I’m all alone and nobody is here to bug me. I’ll let you know in another hour when I’m not all alone. I suppose the true test will be this evening when I’m working registration for the youth group. If 150 (or so) teenagers don’t ruffle my feathers then I’ll know for sure!

I Can’t Believe I Said That!

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Yesterday I turned on the 5:00 news to see a horrific sight. You may have even seen it on the national news. A large, luxury condominium complex in Conshohocken was destroyed by an 8 alarm fire. Apparently it had been going on for quite some time when I started watching and by then two entire buildings were completely leveled and a third was in blazes. Thankfully the first two buildings were under construction and not occupied.

Unfortunately it went on to severely damage three occupied buildings leaving 400 people homeless. Eleven firefighters were injured, but at this time I don’t think any of the injuries are serious. It’s amazing to me that not one resident was injured in this tragic fire. Sadly, there were animals who were not able to be rescued – pets whose owners weren’t home at the time. The firefighters did manage to rescue the majority of the pets, however, and the animals are waiting to be reunited with their owners. It is heartening to know how the community has stepped up. Several hotels and private homes are taking in the displaced residents with special consideration given for pet owners.

So as I said, I turned on the TV and was greeted by these tragic scenes and do you know what came out of my mouth? I seriously don’t ever talk this way and I’m still stunned I actually said this. Taylor looked at me in obvious shock because I don’t think he’s ever heard me say something like this. As soon as I blurted it I wanted to take it back. I clapped my hand over my mouth and felt shame and not just a little embarrassment. Some of you may speak this way on a regular basis and I’m in no way judging. It was just so out of character for me and I’m a bit concerned as to what this says about me.

I said…

Are you ready…

Please don’t judge me…

I said…

Golly Gee!

Seriously! That’s what I said and I wasn’t being cutesy or silly or anything! I said it with all the feeling of terror I had in my heart!! Who talks that way??

When Taylor recovered from his shock he said in his best Eddie Haskell voice, “I know. That fire is not very neato!”

****

Channeling Sandra Dee aside, today is day four of Weight Watchers: The Senior Project to the Follow Up to the Sequel, Part VII. So far so good. I feel confident that this time, THIS TIME, I’m going to lose all the weight I gained on chemotherapy and various treatments and surgeries since then. And maybe another 10 or 15 pounds. What’s different this time? Well for one thing every morning I’ve committed my eating and exercising to the Lord and so far I’ve succeeded.

Another difference is my reward system. Every single time I’ve been on a diet (for lack of a better word) in the past I rewarded a certain amount of weight loss with a food I’d denied myself. Not so this time. This time I’m getting my hair cut after the first 15 pounds. I’m not talking about just a trim and I certainly won’t be denying myself hair color because it could take a while to lose 15 pounds and there’s no telling how many kids I would scare in the meantime. But when I hit the first 15 pound mark I’m getting my first real hair cut since it’s grown out after losing it all. I think I know how I want it cut and it’s proving to be pretty good motivation.

I did have a dream last night that I weighed in (which is kind of odd because I’m doing W.W. online and not attending meetings) and I lost 30 pounds my first week! If that were the case I could get my hair cut AND, oh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought forward to my next reward. Any good ideas?

Alright. I’m off to eat some yogurt and get in some exercise for the day.

CIAO, friends!!

New Beginnings

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If someone were to ask me what my favorite day is I would normally answer “Saturday”. I do love Saturday. Somewhere in my archives I mentioned I love Saturday so much I would marry it if it would have me and I weren’t already married. But right now I think Monday is my favorite day. A fresh start to the week. A chance to do better than last week.

If you’re depraved enough you could probably go through my blog and figure out how many times I’ve started Weight Watchers in the last two years. If you’re my friend, please don’t waste your time. Just trust me when I say it’s a bunch. But I’m starting again today.

Last Thursday I wrote this post and I’m pleased to report that I’ve been more disciplined in my study and time with God. I’m already reaping the benefits. Look at the verse that jumped off the page of my Bible and fairly smacked me upside my head.

Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.

Proverbs 16:3

It’s nothing new or revolutionary. In fact it’s something that I know as sure as I know my name. But for some reason it was a total “Ah Ha” moment when I read it this morning. I wrote it on a note card so I can refer to it at any given second. Like when I want to eat M&Ms instead of something with fewer points. Or when I want to read instead of cleaning the kitchen. Or when I want to watch TV instead of taking the dog for a walk. Or when I want to surf the net instead of writing.

I have the feeling I’m going to be referring to this note card several times an hour.

Stubborn Is as Stubborn Does

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I never used to think of myself as stubborn. I was an easy going, laid back kid who most of the time never had to have her way. I was usually happy to do whatever my friends wanted to do. It wasn’t until I had Taylor that I realized “stubborn” comes in all shapes and sizes.

When we took him for swimming lessons around the age of four or so he wouldn’t do what he was told to do. There was no amount of cajoling or sweet talking or even harsh words to get him to put his head in the water, even if he did think the instructor was pretty. He was, and is, laid back and easy going. He doesn’t have to have his way all the time. But I can guarantee he’s not going to do something he doesn’t want to do.

Yesterday morning I asked Todd if I was stubborn. Without a moment’s hesitation he answered in the affirmative. I was shocked. I think I probably sputtered. At the very least I imagined he would have waged a war in his head before speaking.

Do I tell her the truth and risk her wrath? Or do I lie to appease her and make her happy?

With no thought to the safety of his person he just blurted out, “Yes.” A pretty brave, if not stupid move, if you ask me. He did go on to explain the difference between being stubborn and being spoiled. I’ll give him props for saying I’m not spoiled. (Though, truth be told, I AM spoiled, only because he’s made me that way.) But he said I’m stubborn because if I don’t get my way everybody knows about it.

EXCUSE ME??? I told him he has no idea how many times I don’t push the issue of what I want or how I think things should be. And frankly, when I do make an issue of something it’s usually because I think people are being selfish.

So then I asked if he thought he was stubborn. Instead of answering he said, “Wait a minute. This is supposed to be about you and not me.” O contraire, Mon frère. I was the interrogator and already had my list of questions prepared.

This time he responded in the negative. Again, I sputtered. He justified his answer by saying he can be stubborn at work, but not usually where the family is concerned. More sputtering and waiting for him to smile and say, “Just kidding.”

What I came up with is we’re both stubborn in our own way. I’d love to say he’s way more stubborn than I am, but I’ll concede that we’re each just as stubborn as the other.

There. In light of the fact this is my blog and I can say anything I want to, I believe that was very magnanimous of me.

Moving along…

Taylor may look like a blond version of his dad, but he acts like me in a lot of ways. His penchant for rationalization, for instance.

It’s called home work. Work you do at home. The teacher never said we had to hand it in.

If I wait another three days there will be more grass to mow, making it more worth my time.

Why do I have to watch the dog? I told you before we got her I would like a dog, but I was too lazy to be responsible.

Totally exasperating, and yet I get it. I rationalize everything. You’ve probably figured that out if you’ve read my blog for any length of time. I am the Queen of Rationalization. Not something I’m proud of, though it is a skill.

Yesterday morning I curled up in the big green chair with a cup of coffee and told Todd I was going to whine for a bit. I was just going to get it out and then be done with it. He was very gracious about the whole thing, wonderful (but stubborn) man that he is. My “bullet list” went something like this:

* I’m tired of my back hurting every morning when I wake up, making me sometimes get out of bed before I’m really ready to.

* I’m tired of the stiffness and walking like my grandmother when I get up after sitting for just a short while. Actually I never saw my grandmother walk like me.

* I’m tired of my feet hurting before I’ve even stood on them for the day.

* I hate that I need to be more diligent about taking calcium and getting exercise for my bones. My oncologist told me I WILL get osteoporosis before my time because of the medications I’ve been on and the lack of estrogen.

* I hate that I love good food as much as I do.

* I hate that I don’t like exercise like I did when I was younger.

What I hate the most is how stubborn I am about all this. I’m sure you all are getting tired of reading this recurring theme, but as I stated above – it’s my blog. I have carte blanche with what I write. And trust me. If you only knew the posts I’ve written in my head and chose to keep there you’d welcome my consistent complaining.

It’s like I have scales in front of me. In one tray I put “backaches”, “stiffness”, “joint pain”, “sore feet”, “osteoporosis”, “discomfort” and “overall health” and in the other tray I put “yummy food” and “inactivity”. The first tray far outweighs (pardon the pun) the other and I didn’t even put in the vanity phrases such as “fat clothes” and “depressing photos”.

I just don’t get it. Why am I so stubborn? Or maybe I’m just spiteful. I know I would be so much better off if I would eat better and exercise. And it’s even more important with my history. A better diet and activity could prevent or head off so many problems and it can also alleviate so many other issues. I’ve been through enough, thank you very much.

So why don’t I just get over myself and do what I know I have to do? It’s about so much more than what size I’m wearing or a number on the scale. It’s all about being the healthiest me I can possibly be and being around long enough to watch my grandchildren become parents.

Of course I’m spewing all this out only five days before our vacation. If you think I’m going to take all this to heart while I’m in Hawaii you are daft, man! Am I rationalizing? Probably. I’m okay with that, though.

It’s all about changing the way I think. And getting rid of my spiteful, stubborn self. I’ll think a lot about that while I’m lying on the beach. Maybe I’ll be inspired there and when I get home BAM! I’ll start training for the Iron Man. It could happen.

Plain and simple, I don’t understand how I could go through surgery and chemotherapy to be healthy and yet I can’t make myself stay away from fattening, sugary foods for any length of time. I allowed people to pump poison through my veins and yet I can’t make myself walk for 30 minutes every day. Eating right and being active is so much easier than going through treatment. So what’s my deal??

To round out this post, my deal is that I’m stubborn and I rationalize everything! Guess I know what character flaws I need to start working on.

I don’t think I like this self-realization stuff.

A Change in the Air

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Our family, or at least our marriage, is about to take on a new dimension. Todd begins work with a new company next week. It will require a bit of travel – maybe a little more than he travels now only more spread out instead of two or three weeks every quarter. The real difference will be that he’ll be working from home when he’s not traveling. Did you get that? He will be working from HOME.

For the most part I’m looking forward to it. We’ll be saving a bundle on petrol (doesn’t that make me sound so very European?) and I think I’ve talked him into swimming with me. I’m hoping he’ll drag me along on those days I don’t want to go (which is probably just about every day). He will only require clean and pressed “nice” clothes when he travels – which really won’t change much of anything for me because it’s not like I iron like I should anyway. I’ll also have a daily lunch buddy. I think it’s going to be nice.

Realistically, however, I imagine there will be an adjustment period. Every time he’s at home he throws me off my mojo and I’m not sure why. My routine just seems to go right out the window. That will not be acceptable if he’s home every day. How in the world will I spend hours on the computer or reading with a messy kitchen and piles of laundry?

I am seriously proud of him. It’s funny because when we were dating I knew he was smart, but I didn’t know he was THIS smart. For the last several years he’s been working in the electricity sector – not for an electric company, but for a Regional Transmission Office (RTO). I liken an RTO to an electricity broker. They “trade” electricity between electric companies in their region and watch the transmission lines, making sure they don’t overload here or run out there. That’s the Jenster’s Mega-Simplified Version, but I think you can get an idea of what his company does.

Have you seen Live Free or Die Hard? If you haven’t you should. It’s one of the most realistic action movies I’ve ever seen. (That statement, my friends, is dripping with sarcasm.) If you can suspend belief it’s awfully fun. Definitely one of my favorite car-chase-explosion-shoot-’em-up movies to date. The reason I bring it up is because a terrorist targets the electric grid, among other utilities. Imagine, if you will, what would happen if the entire US electric grid was shut down. It’s not a pretty thought at all. Which is why it’s high on Homeland Security’s list of possible terrorist targets.

Which brings me to Todd’s job. In a nutshell he’s responsible for making sure the various departments are following procedures and compliant with the government regulations. All electricity entities, including the RTOs, are periodically audited and it can prove bad for them if they are found to be non-compliant.

He works with others across the U.S. and Canada in similar positions and the FBI and Homeland Security to come up with these regulated procedures to insure protection against a terrorist attack on the electric grid.

His new job is for NERC – North American Electric Reliability Corporation – the pseudo-government organization that does the auditing. Yup. He will no longer be the stressed out auditEE, if you will, but the in charge auditOR.

I know, I know. “Auditor” has such a negative connotation to it. But I like the idea of someone out there making sure these companies are doing what they need to be doing so we can continue to enjoy our a/c and TV and lights and refrigerated food and so on, not to mention health care machinery like life support, etc.

If you’ll indulge my bragging just a smidgen longer. According to his new boss he is considered a national expert in the electricity sector. I admit it. I’m fairly preening with pride right now. That’s my man. All mine!

He starts this new position in July, though he’ll be at the home office in Princeton, New Jersey for a bit of it before we go to Hawaii. You know, orientation and all that. Then we’ll be settling into our new arrangement. Should be interesting…