Introspection on Blogging

If there is a new word of this particular decade that sums up life, I would have to say "BLOGGER" or "BLOGGING' is probably up close to the top of the list. With something like 50 million bloggers, it is not a unique craft, a unique idea, and probably, there's not a new topic not already written about. Even sites that don't consider themselves being blogs, but rather news sources, are probably still in the blog category. They just know how to fancify their site and earn money while doing what they love to do. Write.

I started blogging 2 1/2 yrs. ago and I did it earnestly, with passion, and often. Like a good sex life, I suppose. But then I thought I would take it to the next level. I started writing for two on-line sites. One is found at www.stlfamilylife.com and the other is www.townandcountry-manchester.patch.com. I stopped finding time to write just for me. Between having 2 kids, a husband and 4 pets, trying to balance home life with writing life, something had to give. It was my blog sites.

Contrary to what some people may believe, I don't get paid. It's all just a way to get what I like to write about more exposure than the few followers that I have. Instead of having dozens of people reading my work, I have hundreds. I like those odds. But here is the thing. At some point I had hoped to turn them into paying gigs. I've gotten some good feedback from my published articles, which are sometimes informative, and other times, just entertaining. But nobody wants to pay you for your work.
I am not complaining. I appreciate the opportunity to get that experience. But after a year and a half, I feel like I am running out of good topics, or feeling the pressure to produce articles on a weekly basis--and not always feeling very appreciated in the process. Editors are quite honest about wanting to pay as little as possible for their contributors. If I had 'discovered' my passion for writing even a few years ago, I might have been able to make this a paying job.

So I have taken a leave from writing on a weekly schedule and I want to start blogging again. Just for me. On whatever topic tickles my fancy. Most likely I will turn my attention to my other blog site, which is found at www.bonsheart.blogspot.com, which I encourage you to check out if you haven't. I write about my mom's history, which is a gut-wrenching, unique, and yet beautiful, story of her life. Both as a child and as an adult. She passed away 4 years ago and it's a great way to keep her memory alive. There is a lot I don't say about her. There is a lot of pain in the 17 months leading up to her death that I won't ever share in public. Way too personal. But she is part of a history that is literally dying. She would have been 74 this week. Having been part of the post ww2 genocide, she would be among the youngest of the survivors of this era. Rather like there only being 8 survivors left of Pearl Harbor attack--or the last Titanic survivor dying.In another decade there may be no more Russian Red Army genocide survivors from the mid to late 1940's. Very sad.

While I am not giving up on writing for the other sites, I hope to get these two blogs up and running more frequently again, because I do have a lot to say. And the forum to say it. Maybe it is better if it is on my personal website and not edited by someone who may not like me mentioning God or Jesus.

Thank you to my regular followers, and for all the strangers who happen to stumble upon my blog. I wish I had more comments on my plethora of posts so I could get feedback. More followers would be nice, too. Just to know that there are 'regulars' out there who genuinely find enjoyment from my posts.

So thank you, readers, for, well, reading my work. And I hope to see a lot more of you in 2012. You will definitely see a lot more of me in 2012 as well.

A Celebration of Veteran's from my Present and Past

A few years ago, Mr. Mike Schultz, a fifth grade teacher, wanted to create a "Remembrance Wall' that celebrated relatives within the school's community who has in the past or is currently serving in any branch of the military.

Mr. Schultz served in the United States Navy Reserves from 1993 to 2003, completing two weeks of training each year at Navy bases in California, Thailand, and London, England. In addition, his daughter Sarah is an MP in the United States Army.

While stationed at Fort Carson, Colorado, Sarah is currently completing her second deployment to Afghanistan. His son Patrick serves in the United States Navy as a Cytological Technician and recently transferred to Fort Gordon, Georgia. During his time at Ft. Gordon, Patrick will be deployed occasionally to work aboard submarines.

Continuing his vision of honoring and remembering those who have served our country, Mr. Schultz began organizing and serving as Master of Ceremonies at the school's Annual Veteran's Day Assembly.

Fathers, mothers, sons and grandfathers gathered and were honored at the ceremony this past Monday. As I attended this year's 2nd annual event, it occurred to me in my short-sightedness that my personal knowledge of Veterans, past or present, was very limited.

My dad Roger voluntarily enlisted as a United States Marine Corps reservist from September 1958 to September 1964. He was prepared to be sent to active duty, but never was despite the Vietnam War and the Bay of Pigs Invasion in Cuba overlapping his reserve duty. While my dad will certainly talk about his life as a Marine, he always seems to make a distinction between active and reservist duty, never really wanting to be referred to as a Veteran. And yet that is exactly what he is.

However, my dad's Olsen family history has a long legacy of active military men. My grandfather Edward was one of 11 children, ten sons and one daughter. Of these 10 sons, 6 of them served during World War 2. With a 24 year span of the 11 births, two of the sons were too old to serve (including my grandpa Edward), one was too young at the time, and one was physically handicapped.
They appeared in a July 1944 article in the Round Lake Beach town in which they lived, being given accolades for their dedication in serving our country. Olaf, Sr., born 1908, served in the United States Navy; George, born 1909, and Harold, born 1911, served in the United States Army Air Corps.; Iver, born 1913, was in the Quartermaster Division of the United States Army; Art, born 1917, served in the Merchant Marines (Art's son Brian also served in the United States Navy from 1965 to 1969); and finally, Everett "Boze", born 1922, served as a United States Marine.

My great-grandma Jennie, proud mother of the six sons serving in the military, had a flag bearing six stars outside her home in recognition and honor of the great sacrifice her family was making for our country. All six men returned home safely from war.
Each of these 10 brothers (and one sister) has passed away; the youngest son known as "Hap" dying most recently in February 2008. I did not have a personal relationship with any of my great uncles or Great Aunt Hazel.

Still, it is an honor to be related to them and to know that many of my great uncles served and sacrificed to help make our country the wonderful place it is today. This legacy continues through all the servicemen and women who are still actively serving today to preserve our freedom, making a personal family sacrifice and, sadly, sometimes sacrificing their own lives in the line of duty.
On this Veteran's Day, please take time to acknowledge our military men and women, past and present. Thank them for what they have done for us. But most of all, remember them.
As quoted by Dan Lipinski "On this Veterans Day, let us remember the service of our veterans, and let us renew our national promise to fulfill our sacred  obligations to our veterans and their families who have sacrificed so much so that we can live free."

Tribute on the Death of Bil Keane

Bil Keane, creator of The Family Circus cartoon, died at age 89 of heart failure in early November. His wife Thel died in May of 2008, after celebrating 60 years of marriage. Today they are once again reunited, but leaving behind their five children, who were the inspiration behind the characters Billy, Dolly, Jeffy and PJ.

It is today that I mourn the loss of not only an inspirational cartoonist, who lived out his life as ethically as he drew it, but I mourn the loss of a friend. My relationship with Mr. Keane began in 1979, writing a fan letter to him at the tender age of 12. He wrote me back, to which I sent another letter.

After that second letter, his wife wrote me a personal note and enclosed with it two personal limited edition copies of books that were out of print. He personalized the inside of each book to me. As a young girl, this was beyond my wildest dreams that a man I admired so greatly would take the time to acknowledge his biggest fan.

The relationship did not stop there. We stayed in yearly contact. At Christmas, instead of a traditional Christmas letter, he would send out a Christmas calendar, personally penned to me. His only daughter Gayle, the inspiration of "Dolly", also personally contacted me about the various memorabilia that was available for sale.

Over several years I collected mugs, figurines, ornaments, posters, plaques, plates. And, of course, every book. She personally held a stock of whatever had been created in storage for me to make sure it was available to me as I could afford to buy them.

In 1987, over Spring Break, my mom and I flew out to Arizona to meet the Keane's to celebrate an early 21st birthday. Gayle and my mom had conspired with Mr. Keane to arrange it.  He picked us up at our hotel and drove us back to his home and his studio in Paradise Valley, Arizona. He pointed out that Erma Bombeck lived just down the street but was not in town at the time. Otherwise, he would have introduced us.

After spending the day with me he wondered who actually had more knowledge of the strip--me or his son Jeff, who would later become his partner. He did not want a 'fan club' but said that if he ever changed his mind, I would be the President. He considered me his #1 fan.

After treating us to lunch at his favorite cafe, we parted for a few hours before inviting us to come to the Ice Capades with him that evening, where he was receiving a "Good Skate Award" by Olympic athletes Kitty and Peter Carruthers. My favorite part of that evening was that he asked me to hold his award while he signed autographs.

Thel snapped many pictures of me and Bil during his autograph signing. We snuck out shortly after the awards ceremony as not to be mobbed at the end of the show. I felt a little like a celebrity myself. As a final birthday present, he told me to pick out my favorite cartoon and he would send me the hand-drawn original. To this day, it is proudly framed in my family room.

As a wedding present, he sent us a personalized cartoon congratulating us as a married couple, and welcomed the birth of our son Adam with another personalized cartoon.  In 2001, I arranged to come out to Arizona again, but this time with my husband and son. Thel delighted in Adam. I delighted in the joy of being in the Keane's presence again. It was a 'once in a lifetime' experience that I enjoyed twice.

His generosity was endless. He was a Godly man, who lived out what he drew. And his wife Thel was as delightful as the man himself. She was witty and intelligent. The quiet strength behind his success, I like to think. My favorite moment of that trip was following Mrs. Keane into the kitchen to serve dishes of Breyer's Butter Pecan ice cream for the 5 of us. She asked me to get the bowls and napkins, while she served us. An ordinary moment made extraordinary. They were like family.

My husband and I had hoped to make one more trip out to see him after the birth of our daughter in 2004. But I knew he was in his 80s and I was not sure that it would be appropriate to invite ourselves over again. Communication waned a bit over the last decade. I spoke to both Gayle and Jeff on the phone after learning that their mom had passed away. Gayle shared with me then that their dad's health was declining as well.

Bil Keane lived a rich and wonderful life. He had all the same joys and sorrows, love and heartache as the rest of the world. But despite his 'celebrity' status, he was not one to seek out publicity. He was just a "Daddy', who loved "Mommy", "Billy", "Dolly", "Jeffy" and "PJ". And we loved him.

I have memories that would fill a book but instead it fills my heart. Remembering a great man, who raised a wonderful family. Thank you, Bil Keane, for enriching my life and leaving behind such a great family legacy. I will miss you more than I can put in words. Bless you, Bil Keane. Bless you.

What was Lost was Found: Who was Lost is still Lost

When I think back to that last Sunday in July, it isn't my 11 year old son's baptism that comes to mind. Although it was a glorious day, one filled with God's love, faithfulness and pride as a parent--certainly worthy of its own blog--it is over-shadowed by an internal conversation I had with myself later that night.

As on most Sundays, I wore my silver cremation necklace. It is a necklace that I wear on a regular basis, especially on the days where I am missing my mom--whose ashes it contains. The 4th year anniversary of her death was quickly approaching and wearing my cross during that particular season of my life has always brought comfort, where words might otherwise fail. And for whatever reason, I miss my mom on Sundays more than any other day of the week.

But on this Sunday, as I removed the necklace from around my neck and hung it back into my jewelry case, I made a mental note that it would be at least another week before I would wear it again. The kids and I were taking a week long trip to visit friends, while my husband stayed behind to work and take care of our pets. He was preparing for one of his regular trips overseas and the additional, uninterrupted work time would help him; while a little get-away was just what the kids and I needed. That internal dialogue included the fact that I knew the necklace would stay behind. Too precious to accidentally lose or misplace while traveling. I was leaving it safely behind. Or so I thought.

About 4 days after returning from our trip, I reached for my necklace, which was a day shy of the 4th year anniversary. It was missing. Piece by piece, I emptied my jewelry box of each hanging necklace. Determined that it should be exactly where I remember hanging it, I was instantly reduced to tears. There were few pieces of jewelry that held sentimental value, but this was one of them. I was unusually careful with it.

Calling my husband that morning at work, he confirmed that I had not left it laying out during our vacation; he had not seen it or done anything with it. It was then that I knew it had been stolen.  And here is where it gets complicated.

Because I knew Tony would be working long hours, we had friends and neighbors lined up throughout the week during the day to take care of Snickers and give him potty breaks and some play time. They had access to our house. However, during that same week, another person who we trusted was allowed in the house and had the same access to my jewelry. In my heart, I knew it was stolen by that trusted person. In the interest of privacy and not vilifying that person, I will not name them by name. Herein known as 'him' or 'he' only, my story continues.

The news was devastating. Occurring on the wake of a painful anniversary was dealing with the hurt, frustration and anger I felt that someone close to us could be so bold as to steal from me. Grieving for my mom was replaced by grieving for the loss of an irreplaceable piece of jewelry. Tony and I briefly talked about pressing charges, but we knew that in the interest of doing a thorough investigation, police would have to also speak to our friends and neighbors whom we had charged with caring for Snickers. It was not fair to them to be 'suspects'. We needed to handle this privately.

Tony lovingly confronted 'the suspect' with the disappearance of this jewelry and was met with a reaction of disgust and anger that we would 'accuse' him. He expected an apology from me when the necklace was found. In the interest of making sure that I had not made some monumental error, a day later I spent 5 hours in our bedroom looking for the necklace. I literally tore the room apart. From taking the mattress and box springs off the bed, to removing every piece of clothing in every drawer; unfolding all the extra sets of bedding in storage under our bed. We moved every piece of furniture from against the wall. No stone was left unturned. It was definitely gone.

One last time I emptied my jewelry box. It was then I noticed a second piece was missing. Like some cruel joke, I could not believe that another cross had been taken. One that my mom had given me the Christmas 10 years before her death. She had been given the cross at her own catholic confirmation in Schalding, Germany, while living in a refuge camp in 1949. They would immigrate to the United States the following year.  This 62 year old cross did not have a chain. It sat solitary in a ring holder, next to another cross I had purchased for myself years earlier. That one was untouched.

Just two days after discovering the cremation necklace gone, one day after the anniversary of her death, I am hit with the confirmation that the disappearance was not neglect or carelessness on my part; they were indeed stolen. And both pieces irreplaceable--a part of my mom's memory and life. I remember sitting there dazed; trying to comprehend that not only had they both been stolen, but they were the two most precious pieces of my limited jewelry collection.  Ironically, my pearl necklace and earrings were still there. My diamond earrings untouched. Certainly he did not know the sentimental value of what he took. It was just a cruel twist of fate that he was drawn to the unique pieces that were associated with my mom and the timing of it all.

My loving husband contacted all the area pawn shops within nearby proximity of where the person of interest lived. Sending an e-mail with a picture of the necklace (off the website from which it was purchased) and a picture of whom we presumed would hock them, we hoped that the necklace and/or person would be identified.  It took probably 10 days but then we received an e-mail. The cremation necklace was located, the seller of said necklace postively ID'd. The bad news was that the necklace had already been sold. The good news? The owner was able to get the cross portion holding the ashes back from whom he had sold it. The silver rope chain was gone, however. As for the 62 year old cross, he said I could look through what he had acquired in the previous month and I was encouraged to retrieve my items free of charge. With no picture, he did not know if the gold cross was still in his shop.

With my husband now already on his business trip, I ventured to the upscale jewelry pawn shop on my own that Monday morning. With emotions too strong for words, I reclaimed the cremation cross, holding it tightly--thankful for the kind pawn shop owner who took the time to do the right thing. He could have said that it had already been sold and he was unable to get it back. But he didn't. He presumably lost money by retrieving it for me. But his generous heart did not stop there. Before me lay about half dozen gold crosses. Immediately, I was able to rule out the ones that were not my mom's. But I hesitated. There was one that I was 99 percent sure was hers. But honestly, I could not say with 100 percent certainty it was the one. Crosses were dime a dozen, often hocked; easily purchased. Still, I continued to hold the cross and question if it belonged to me. "Take it", Albert said (his name changed for privacy) "If you walk away without it, you'll regret it. If your heart is telling you it's yours, then it is. Don't second guess it." With tears in my eyes, I thanked him for helping me out.

Still, having those back in my possession did not 'fix' everything.  The one who stole it lied to us--not once but twice. After reclaiming them, Tony called him back. Told him we found the items and he had been ID'd. He still denied it. Just like Peter denying Christ three times by the time the rooster crowed, this person was caught red-handed and yet still had the hutzpah to claim innocence. My heart broke.

Perhaps a day later, this person called Tony again, while he was still away on business. In a tearful apology, he finally confessed his guilt. Apologizing to Tony, but not to me was a slap in the face. He had assumed that since we were rich and he has nothing, we would never notice those pieces missing. As if his lack of work ethic and productivity in life justified stealing from us. It did not matter that we trusted him in our home despite a strained relationship in the past. Tony extended grace and accepted his apology but said the right thing to do was to apologize to me.

It has been a month and that apology has not come, nor will it ever, I'm sure.

Which is why I feel burdened enough on this dreary Sunday afternoon to write about this experience. At first I felt violated. How much had he cased our house, looking for 'hockable' items? Or did he go straight for the gold and silver? And how to do I forgive when he hasn't asked for my forgiveness? Several other more pressing situations have happened since the disppearance of the two crosses, which deflected from the importance of his betrayal. In the grand scheme of things, I got my valued jewelry back. No harm was done. Still, I'm finding myself angry again. Where is the apology that he would have expected from me?

For me, the relationship is severed. And this person will have no further contact with my two children. The relationship he has with Tony is more personal. How much damage was done for him is not for me to say. Or for me to judge. All I know is that Tony and I agreed he will not be allowed in our home again--or near our kids again. Ever. Not without a God-breathed, time tested and trued change of heart and mind and soul. And the kind of life-changing authentic apology that you know comes from a changed person.

The Bible calls me to forgive. After looking at his past, I can see why he ventured down this ugly, law-breaking path. I can see why his life lead to this point.  But for my healing alone, I need to reach a point of forgiveness. But I will not forget. And I will not be so naive to think that at this point he realizes the depth of what he did wrong. He is not sorry for the fact he stole. He is sorry that he got caught, and harmed his relationship with Tony.  His apology was never about the act of stealing--or the violation against me. No reparation has truly been made in my eyes. He is Godless and heartless.

The cremation cross sits without a chain in my jewelry box. Whereas I used to wear it several days per week, I cannot look at it without pain and hurt. I visualize him stuffing it carelessly in his pocket, offering it for a price to Albert. Another woman wearing the cross that holds a piece of my mom. It's tainted now. Somehow I need to work through this by finding another unique chain and wearing it again. But right now, the thought brings me pain, which outweighs the comfort and the closeness I felt by wearing it.

I grieve today for what he took from me. Maybe this sounds ultra-dramatic and I'm making a big fuss over nothing. Perhaps no one can relate. But it's truly the way I feel. But the Bible tells us in Matthew 10 that we are to take up our cross and follow Jesus. So when I look at the crosses that were taken from me, I need to remember the cross that was given to me by his sacrifice on the his cross that was for my salvation and to forgive me of my sins. And maybe one day that person will understand what pain he caused and accept the free gift of forgiveness. From Jesus. And from me.

Adam and Elise's Acting Debut starring JESUS

Both my kids were asked to take part in an on-stage discussion about their visit to a local nursing home. Because their stage presence was professional, they were later asked to be in an all-church video to solicit volunteers for our summer long VBS program known as Passport.

What they quickly learned is that a 3 minute video takes an hour and half to film; and preparing to know their lines ahead of time took quite a bit of a commitment, too.

As a parent, I can say that this is one of my proudest moments. Both my kids rocked the video and made us proud to represent the church--and believers in Christ.

My blond children are easy to identify. Elise is in the aqua blue t-shirt and her brother Adam is wearing red sporting some long locks as he approaches middle school.

Milestones in My Son's Life, Milestone in Parenting

I have always loved the quote by Elizabeth Stone "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." In regards to parenting, no truer words have ever been spoken.

The truth is that my heart is no longer my own. I check on my kids moments before I go to sleep at night and they are my first thought in the morning. The truth is that everything I do in my life is a reflection of them, and their physical and emotional well-being are always foremost in my mind.
Each day is spent cherishing the moments I am creating for them and with them, trying not to look back in regret or look out too far in the future.

At least that was the way I felt until recently. This year is flying by incredibly fast and before I was prepared for it, the school year ended. Not just any school year, but my son's last one at the elementary level. And this new reality hit me hard and unexpectedly one morning. My son is a tween and his middle school days are upon us. And there is no turning back. Parenting Adam has been a joy. For the most part, he has made parenting easy for me. We have an easy, mutually respectful relationship, but as I see him approaching those dreaded teen years, his independence from me is a challenge.
I know that God has only given me my children for a time. He has given them to me to raise up for Him and to raise them to be loving, caring, responsible adults. God never intended for me to have them under my care forever. He has only given me the here and now; and if I'm lucky, lots of tomorrows. Still I felt stuck in the grief in the chapter of this part of his life coming to a close; afraid of what the tomorrows may bring. I did not know how to come out of the grief I was feeling. Then God gave me answer in a way I never expected.

Adam is a competitive, level 5 gymnast. His coach had given him the deadline of May 26 to conquer his fear of doing a back flip on the trampoline, unassisted. It was a skill that would be necessary to continue his growth. On May 26 I walked my tearful, fearful son into practice to talk with his coach Jack. "Adam can do the skill." Jack told me. "But he wants me on the trampoline spotting him. I want him to do it by himself."

So I did my best to encourage my son, knowing that no words would guarantee that he would take the leap of faith to conquer the fear. And I stood out of his sight and watched him perform the back flip over and over with his coach nearby spotting him. In a final desire to encourage him I announced my presence in the room and said "Adam, you own this. You OWN it! You are nailing it every time. You can do it. You can!"

It took until later that evening but Adam did the back flip on his own. And he did it over and over. He came home that night so proud of himself for facing the fear and doing it in spite of the fear. But it was the words that he said that spoke to me. "Mom, Jack told me I could do it but it was you, Mom. It was your encouragement that made me know I could do it. And I did!"

I said a prayer of thanks as I took my son in a bear hug and congratulated him. The teen years will have the ups and downs of life. No doubt it will be filled with a lot of moments where I am in the background of his life. But me and Adam? We're gonna be just fine!

Getting Back to the Basics

It was the end of May and it was the last week of school. I had my days planned out. It all came down to the final 5 mornings without children underfoot. I had my plan...but then God had his. God always wins.

We have lived in the same neighborhood for nearly 7 years. In those years we have been fortunate to rarely experience the loss of electricity.  Except we lost power that very first morning of the 'final five' in all the busy craziness that is the end of school. And, life as I knew it, stood still.

The impact was felt immediately by my 6 year old daughter Elise. She had an Internet Webkins party scheduled to take place at 12:30 p.m. The outage began at approximately 12:25 p.m., just as I went to log her in. I had even changed my plans around to make sure we were home in time for her virtual pet party. Thankfully, she giggled at the irony of the timing.

And then we stared at each other in silence. What now?

What has the world come to that we have no telephone, no Internet, no television, no air conditioning and we feel completely and totally out of touch. We piddled around the house until the storm passed and the sun began to shine again, giving us a little more natural lighting indoors.

So we played. We played like two 6 year olds. Elise got out her favorite board games that rarely get taken off the shelf. And we played with her cat and dog park, making up silly pet names and fun imaginative scenarios. And we talked. As I was playing with her it reminded me of why I had become a parent in the first place. We lose so much in the busyness of our lives that we forget about engaging and investing in the lives of the people we love.

The fact is that I have been struggling for the last several days with the fact that my son Adam is leaving elementary school at the end of this week. He is moving onto bigger and better and newer. His childhood is nearly over as he enters the tween and teen years. While I knew that I had a 'to do' list that had to be done, I also knew that soon enough it will be my daughter making that same transition and these stolen moments together will be fewer and farther between, too.

But God gave me at least one more impromptu moment with Adam. While my 'plan' was to watch one of Oprah's finale shows when he got off the school bus, the better plan was to play one more board game with the three of us, and then to read with Adam as we work our way through the seventh and final installment of the Harry Potter series we've been reading together in the last year.

But, alas, the power was restored, which meant it was time for me to meet my writing deadline and for the kids to enthusiastically re-engage with the television. Still, this afternoon reminded me that technology is not always best. Sometimes it's about getting back to the basics.

Home Alone in the 21st Century

It has been just over 20 years since the Home Alone movie rocketed Macaulay Culkin into stardom. It was the cheek slap heard around the world that has been parodied ever since. While most people would agree that 8-year-old Kevin (played by Culkin) was too young to be 'home alone', it begs the question: What is the right age? Or perhaps more fittingly, is there an age specified in the Missouri statutes or in St. Louis County?

I consulted with Lieutenant Bob Arthur of Town and Country police to help answer the question. He said that there was no magical age in St. Louis for when staying home alone is legal (only Illinois and Maryland have specific state laws regulating it). From both experience as a dad of three now-grown children and as an officer who has seen the best and worst of St. Louis, his recommendation is age 12.
Let's face it, with summer quickly approaching, doesn't a little freedom from children underfoot sound enticing? But how do you know your child is ready? Lt. Arthur says that there are basic things your child should know before you leave them alone for any length of time. At the most basic level, they need to know how to dial 9-1-1 and their own street address. Having your child memorize your cell phone is a great idea, too. You may have it on a bulletin board at home but if (s)he can't get it to it in an emergency, (s)he should still know how to reach you.

Children also need to know what to do in case of an emergency. Does your child know where the water shut-off valve is located or the electric breaker box? Do you have a first aid kit where your child can find it if necessary? If they need to leave the house for any reason (like a fire), do they know which neighbors are usually home and they can count on as a 'safe' house? Do they know how to reach a neighbor by phone if they can't reach you?

Arthur stressed too, that you need to rely on your instincts. If you doubt that your child will obey the house rules (do not answer the door, do not use the stove, no friends may come over, etc) then that is a good indication that regardless of chronological age, they may not have the emotional maturity to be responsible enough yet.

Supposing you have decided that staying home alone is acceptable, now what? For us, it means signing up our 11-year-old for a "Home Alone" class. They are held all around the area--at the Des Peres Lodge, Ballwin Pointe, through Rockwood and Parkway Continuing Education, and through all the local hospitals. Don't discount the value in having someone reinforce what you have already instructed your children to do, no matter how thorough you thought you were.

Another tip is to start out in small time blocks. Initially, I left our son Adam home for 10 minutes at a time. I also never allow him to stay home alone if a) I cannot drop everything and come home immediately 2) I am more than a five-minute car ride away 3) I cannot predict how long I will be be gone (Like a doctor's appointment).

The last tip is this: Do not push the matter if your child has any hesitation at all. There are times when our son is more comfortable than others in being home alone. There is no rhyme or reason to his comfort level but I always give him the option. Oftentimes, he will choose to come with me. I want him to be in tune with his gut feeling and I respect his decision even if it would be more convenient to have him stay home. The reality is that eventually they will be ready to, and when they are, the transition will go smoothly if you go at a pace you are both comfortable with. In the meantime, just enjoy the fact that they still want to be near you. That may not last forever.

Chid Restraint Laws in St . Louis

Reposted with minor revisions from the original post that appeared on townandcountry-manchester.patch.com

Over spring break there were three of us moms discussing the use of seat belt restraints/booster seats in St. Louis county. And all three of us had different interpretations of the law. In fact, all three of us believed the law to be different. Even defining the law was difficult.

In April of this year, an ordinance passed in Manchester allowing an officer to pull you over strictly for a seat belt violation. Prior to this change, a seat belt violation could be cited only when an officer was pulling you over for another offense. The exception to this was when children were involved. If an officer noticed a child violating the requirement for their size and age, the driver could be fined independent of any other vehicular offense. But do you know what the regulations are for your child?
Manchester police department's patrol Sergeant Dan West directed me to the Missouri Revised Statutes (Chapter 307.179) to help answer this question. At the link you can read in detail seat belt requirements for all passengers. Below are some highlights.

Infants are required to be in an infant car seat, facing backward in a rear seat. Once they have outgrown the seat according to weight requirements, they may sit in a forward facing seat in a restraint system commonly referred to as a five-point harness. Regardless of age, children who weigh less than 40 pounds must remain in this car seat.

Children at least four years of age but less than eight years of age, who also weigh at least forty pounds but less than eighty pounds, and who are also less than four feet, nine inches tall, shall be secured in a child passenger restraint system (commonly known as a booster seat).

Sergeant West stressed that while your child may be over 8 years old and allowed to ride in a vehicle with only a shoulder and lap restraint system (no booster seat), he urges all parents to continue to have your son or daughter use a booster seat until they meet the height requirement. In an accident, it is the placement of the shoulder strap that will be the most important factor in protecting them from harm or injury. It is body height and weight that impacts how they respond in a crash, not age.

What about riding in the front passenger seat? Sergeant West said that because of air bags, which are standard in most vehicles, children should not ride in the front seat if they are younger than 13. Once again he stressed that substantial injury or death could occur because of the deployment of the air bag that is designed with an adult body size in mind.

Safety should always be our priority when raising our children. Despite protests from kids about wearing a seat belt or arguing with us that they want to give up a booster seat, or them wanting to be allowed to sit in the front seat, it is not about making them happy. It's about keeping them safe--and obeying the laws of the road.

Finding your Inner Julia Child

One of my all-time favorite movies is Julie & Julia. It was because of that movie that I wanted to amp up my cooking skills. Despite being a fairly diverse cook, it was often my favorite part of the day. After 10 years of marriage (and cooking), I needed isnpiration.

Can I get an Amen?

If you are nodding your head in silent agreement, read below on how I tackled the cooking doldrums.

It was at a doctor’s waiting room that I found my initial inspiration in the form of the cooking magazine Cooking Light. I realized I had stagnated over the years; not particularly paying attention to how healthy my recipes were, or challenging myself to become a better cook. Routinely I had chosen short-and-to-the-point recipes that did not grow my skills. Subscribing to this magazine for a few years was a perfect first step in changing that. Not only did it give me new recipes to try, it highlighted different vegetables or spices each month; and it offered cooking tips, such as how to pan-sear properly. Each issue I would make a comprehensive list of the recipes and page numbers I wanted to try. After I had accumulated about 6 issues, I typed it them up into a Word document and placed it in the front pocket of my binder.

The next step was making sure I made a new recipe a few times a month. After realizing that I probably had over 150 new recipes ear-marked to try, I realized I needed to be more intentional in incorporating them into our weekly menu. About 6 months ago, I decided that our family would eat a minimum of two new recipes a week. Sometimes that means two new entrees, and sometimes it might be side dishes or a new dessert. Occasionally, I’ll even be inspired to make all new recipes all week long. Some are hits, some are definite misses. But at least my adaptable family enjoys the adventure of it all.

About 3 months ago, I decided to further challenge myself to grow as a cook by incorporating one new ingredient per week. Turnips, parsnips, capers and patty pan squash are just a few of them. Everyone in our family loves mushrooms so even experimenting with the different varieties has been a fun way to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary.

Of all the changes I’ve made in the last few years, my absolute favorite has been learning to cook ethnic dishes. Our favorite cuisine is Asian: Thai, Chinese, Japanese and, recently, Korean. For authentic (albeit Americanized) dishes, it requires specialty sauces and spices. Sesame oil, peanut oil, mirin, tamari and hoisen sauces are all specialty ingredients that have become staples in our house. Fresh ginger root is the key to all things Asian, so even cooking with fresh spices rather than jarred can really transform your cooking. (Rule of thumb: Use 1/3 the amount of dried herbs to equal chopped fresh.) Try fresh Parmesan cheese rather than the grated variety. So often we have forgotten the original fresh option over the quick, prepared one.

In fact, if your family is less than eager to try a new food, try just adding a new spice (such as using pumpkin pie spice in your chili!) Learn to make a homemade pesto or spaghetti or Alfredo sauce rather than using jarred or canned off the grocery shelf. It might be just enough change to keep you more engaged in the kitchen without a family revolt.

And really, this only scratches the surface of the ways I’ve transformed my cooking over the last few years. Turn cooking from something ‘you have to do’ into something ‘you want to do’. Challenge your cooking talents, stretch your cooking know-how, and impress your friends and family. Your inspiration may be just a meal away

Mom Brain Strikes Again

Are you a mom? Can you relate to the following:

The first time it happened it was a very typical Friday afternoon. I glanced up at the clock and noticed that my son would be getting off the school bus soon, so I went to the front door to make sure it was unlocked. (By fifth grade it is definitely uncool to greet your child at the bus stop). A few minutes later, as the phone began to ring, I realized my faux pas: Every Friday for the last two school years, I have picked Adam up from school at regular dismissal time because of his cello.

The second incident occurred five days later as I waited for my kindergartner to get off the bus. The time came and went with no bus and no daughter. I did notice a few moms I know waving at me as they drove up our street and out of the subdivision; and they were all Daisy Girl Scout moms. The it occurred to me. I forgot about the Daisy Girl Scout meeting.

The third incident was weeks later. Elise had a five-week art class held after school once a week. I completely forgot to take her. In fact, I didn’t even remember the class until the following morning.

So my question is, what gives? For anyone who knows me they will tell you I am organized and detailed to the nth degree. I’ve never been able to relate to other moms who consistently forget things and drop the ball.
Of course, I have many excuses--valid explanations. In fact there is a book by Shaunti and Jeff Feldhan called For Men Only, which accurately depicts a typical woman's workings. Admittedly, I am not typical in many aspects, so I felt that it did not apply to me. But one example struck a chord with me: Open
windows. I have many 'windows' open at all times. While I am typing this blog, I am thinking about my day, which proves to be scheduled down to the last minute; while also wondering if my daughter is getting sick again or maybe it's allergies; thinking about my husband as he drives to Ohio to surprise his bone marrow brother for his birthday; and wondering if the temps are ever going to climb past 70 degrees. Yes, I am multi-tasking in my thoughts. Most women can relate. Of course, I think that is my downfall, too. Life is busy--too busy at times.

Imagine my relief then when Dr. Mehmet Oz wrote in an article about mom brain that it is a true condition. Our brains are 80 percent fat, containing Omega-3 nutrients. The baby receives that nutrient, literally sucking out our brain power. During pregnancy, Dr. Oz says a woman’s brain also shrinks by about 8 percent. “You don’t lose cells. The cells get smaller,” he says. “It might be because you’re focused on one thing, but the good news is after you give birth, your brain begins to rewire quickly. … Your brain actually gets more powerful than before you got pregnant.”

It’s the last part that I find difficult to believe. More powerful? I think my brain forgot to regenerate. I’m just sayin’.

To combat “mommy brain,” Dr. Oz recommends taking omega-3 fatty acids and getting plenty of sleep. “[Omega-3 is] important because we know that it actually allows women to recover from depression faster if they have depression after pregnancy,” he says. “It also allows the brain to grow.”

While he gives that great tip, which I just may try to implement, the true is that I’m fallible. With both of my kids getting older, they are involved in far more scouting, sports and school activities and I have that much more to keep track of. Despite looking at my calendar every day, things are going to slip through the cracks. There is no magic formula and no solution to make sure that things like this don’t happen again. The truth is since my children forgive me, I need to forgive myself. Period.

A Dream, A Vision, Some Carnival Foods

Cancer survivor Harry Freund, a former certified financial advisor and preschool owner, will tell you that he had a vision, an epiphany from God, about three years ago. In that vision he saw himself serving shaved ice among twinkling lights at the once standing Fox Photo store in front of the vacant Chili’s location on Manchester. Two years later, on May 1, 2010, that vision became a reality a few miles farther down Manchester Road at a restaurant aptly named Mr. Harry’s Carnival Foods.

Walking into the store is like walking into a child’s dream, with fun circus decorations and small novelty candies (perfect stocking stuffers at Christmas or basket fillers at Easter), with a game area where you can play checkers, Boggle or even mini Whack-A-Mole.

Located one mile east of Clarkson Road in Ballwin, you can find Harry, his wife Linda, and their twin daughters serving carnival-inspired foods, such as cotton candy, funnel cakes, shaved ice, ice cream, and all the free popcorn your heart desires. They also employ a few former preschool students when they owned and operated Love & Laughter back in the 90's.

If you are in the mood for something more substantial, they also offer a full range of generously sized sandwiches, and homemade sides. The recently began serving up BBQ platters as well when the Freunds began a partnership Jim and Mary Randall of ASAP Barbecue in November of last year. The Randall’s prepare their award-winning barbecue in a mobile trailer on site.

Crave beer while indulging in delicious barbecue? Lucky for your, Mr. Harry’s Carnival Foods recently acquired their liquor license. In addition to one of the most extensive shaved ice menus you’ll find anywhere, you’ll find a strictly adults-only version ‘snowtini’ for your dining pleasure.

ASAP Barbecue and Mr. Harry’s provide catering services. Whether you are looking for a fun circus themed meal, or maybe something a bit more adult-friendly, Mr. Harry’s tailors meals to their customers needs.
Last fall, I partnered with Harry to provide free shaved ice to the children in my kids’ school as part of a fundraising effort. He also provided funnel cakes at the Vacation Bible School program my kids attended last summer at his church. Most recently, he provided hot dogs, corn dogs, shaved ice and cotton candy at my son's Blue & Gold scout banquet whose theme was Circus, Circus.

Need a jump-start to summer? I recommend stopping into Mr. Harry’s Carnival Foods where his slogan is “Where Summer Never Ends.” You’ll be glad you did!

Getting Organized in the Kitchen

There was nothing more frustrating for me than wanting to find a family approved, tried-and-true recipe and not being able to locate it. Was it in a cookbook, a magazine, or on an index card? And those were just the recipes I had remembered making. Often times while on the search for a specific recipe, I’d locate others that I had forgotten about, but knew my family had once enjoyed. Or I would make a mental note to try some recipes out, only to quickly forget about it- indefintely. Certainly, this was no way to live. So what's a girl to do? Get organized!

In my first attempt to get organized, I purchased two recipe binders, similar to a photo album, that had clear sleeves to fit my recipe cards. Since I transferred a lot of recipes onto index cards, in theory,it worked well. I was able to fit newpaper or magazine recipes in the sleeves, too. But, it had its drawbacks. Namely, if the recipe was exceptionally long, or if it was in a cookbook or magazine, I had to photocopy the recipe to keep add it to the binder. My two binders filled up quickly, and it got increasingly difficult to find the exact recipe I was on the hunt for. While this system was better than none, I knew there had to be a better way.

Being an organized, linear thinker, it occured to me that the concept of my binder was on the right track. That is when I decided I should type up all my recipes and put it into a Word document.

Initially, I typed up all my notecard recipes, and all the ones that I had cut out. Then I took the time to go through my cookbooks and magazines and typed those up, as well (I always included who sent me the original recipe so if I had questions or compliments, I knew who to credit). My typed pages are in protective sleeves and in a 3-ring binder.

My recipes fall into thirteen categories, which I separate by page breaks. They include, in alphabetic order: Beef, Beverages, Breads (muffins, breads, bagels, and pastries), Crock pot, Desserts, Pastas, Pork, Poultry, Salads (lettuce, gelatin and fruit), Seafood, Soups, Vegetables (side dishes and appetizers). Each section has a page divder that includes a pocket built in. I love, love, love the pockets, which holds any clipped out recipes I want to try in the future.

Now when I plan my meals every week, I can flip through my 3-ring binder and find the recipe easily. The added bonus is that my recipes don’t get wet, smudged, torn, or lost. No more dreading copying down a recipe for a friend or relative. Simply pull it up on your computer and print (or copy and paste into your e-mail).

The downside is that it took a lot of time. A lot. I am not going to downplay this negative aspect. It probably took me about six months to transfer all my recipes. Some days I would spend only 15 or 30 minutes, and other times I would have a few hours to work on it. But it was worth it. On average, using a two-column format, four recipes fit per page. With 92 pages of recipes, you can imagine how much more organized I am now that it is in one neat little binder.

Am I extreme? A perfectionist? Crazy? Yes, yes, and yes. But the bottom line is that it works for me and it might be the solution to your own organization dilemma.

Ready...Set...Let's Get Cooking!!

I am always fascinating by the married couples who fight over who gets to cook. Who gets to?!? They actually enjoy it and find it relaxing. For me, cooking is something to check off my list at the end of my day. I certainly see the value in it, but I cannot say that I particularly enjoy it.

Still, cooking at home has made a comeback. In all fairness it may have never actually went away, but it seems to have gained popularity in recent years. Beyond Julia Child and Martha Stewart, there lies a plethora of shows for the cooking enthusiast: The Rachael Ray Show, Hell’s Kitchen, Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution, and my personal favorite, Master Chef. And those are just what is on regular network television. There are endless possibilities found on cable TV, too.


The simple fact is America is tuning in to hone their skills in the kitchen and, at least for the moment, we’re captivated.

For me, learning to cook was borne out of necessity. As a single woman, I did not cook anything more challenging than spaghetti or scrambled eggs. But when I married a man who had custody of his two young sons, I knew cooking was not an option. I had to learn quickly–my family was depending on it.

Maybe you are like I was and don’t cook at all, or maybe you already cook but want more variety in your repertoire of recipes after hearing one too many times “Not this AGAIN!”

The initial step in beginning to cook is taking stock. It’s time to open up your cabinets and assess your current cook-ability. What do I mean by that? Over the years you may have collected cook books and cooking magazines ,or even a lot of index cards and newspaper clippings of dishes that sounded great and you thought you might like to make some day. Even if you have never cooked before, you may be pleasantly surprised to see the number of recipes you’ve amassed over the years. You may be very encouraged to learn that you already have a head start.

Supposing that you do not already have a stash of recipes and are truly starting from scratch, you have a number of options. There is no limit to the number of cook books available in your local book store (and probably your local library). There is also a mind-numbing list of cooking magazines for every cuisine or lifestyle goal (such as weight loss or heart smart).

As far as cook books go, I feel the best cookbooks are collections of favorite recipes submitted by families who compile them into a formal book to be sold as a fundraiser (usually churches, schools, scouts and other non-profit organizations). They are chocked full of tried and true recipes from real families with real schedules. Usually void of any rare ingredients or labor intensive directions, they are family-friendly.

In addition to my cookbooks, early in my marriage I subscribed to Taste of Home’s Quick Cooking magazine. Not only was I venturing into new territory of being a new wife and full time step-mom to two young sons, I also worked full time. As much as I would have loved experimenting and challenging myself, it was about getting a kid- and husband-approved meal on the table quickly. All of the recipes were simple and to the point. It was a great starting point for me as a newbie chef.

If money is tight and you aren’t wanting to spend a lot of money to increase your recipe options, consider recipe swapping with friends and family members. Be willing to share some of your own favorites in exchange for them supplying a few of theirs. The internet is also packed with on-line recipes. In fact, many of the monthly issues of cooking magazines such as Cooking Light and Rachael Ray print their recipes on line. It’s not something they are going to advertise. After all, they would rather you buy the subscription than to obtain it free. There is the obvious downside of the general inconvenience of having to go on line to find a recipe, especially if you are hoping to find a new recipe quickly, or want the recipe in front of you without having to print it out.

Hopefully, this article will inspire you to try something new. For some people it might inspire you to start cooking and for others, to breathe new life into a chore you may not necessarily enjoy. Either way, your family will thank you for it.

From Cradle to Grave

Growing up I remember reading the Mad Comic book “Cradle to Grave Primer” by Larry Siegel., a satirical American series that was often politically incorrect and racy by even today’s standards. The premise was simple but entertaining: A man recounts his life, from—what else—cradle to grave. It was a humorous look at how he developed into an awkward, gawky, nerdy teenager, unpopular with other kids; finally settling down and having a son of his own. His son, of course, was his antithesis. Popular, good looking, successful.


And the thing is I realize I am remembering this book because I can relate. To the awkward, nerdy part. For as early as I can remember I lacked confidence. In everything. I dreaded gym class because I was almost always the last one picked, which was for good reason. I lacked coordination in all things sports. I never took gymnastics, dance, soccer, softball. Unfortunately, I did not make up for academically. I was not even a particularly brilliant student making mainly B’s. I did try to play the guitar once but found myself hopelessly unable to learn the simplest of songs and quit after a matter of weeks. The only thing I was remotely good at was bowling. I stayed on a league for a few years and won many team and individual trophies. I also twirled a mean baton. Did I stay with either of those into my mid teens? You would think so, but sadly, no. What I lacked in talent, I did not make up in physical beauty. I was short, skinny, and developed very late in my teens. Even though I had a great childhood in many respects, I would never want to go back and live them again. My parents encouraged me to go after my dreams and try new things. My regret is that I didn’t take those opportunities and make the most of them.

As life imitates art, or in this case, a book—I have an overachieving son. In a totally great way. He is proof that sometimes recessive genes are more dominant. He plays the piano, the violin, and for the last year and half, the cello. He is an ‘ear player’ with music, which makes him a gifted player. His strings teacher recognized this natural ability and asked him to join her Honors and High Honors Orchestra groups, which met two mornings a week.

At church he volunteered to be part of a small core of kids who learned a Sticks routine. It’s a choreographed routine while holding sticks, much like a drumstick, set to music. After they learned this routine, they performed it twice in front of parents and other students. When he had the opportunity to take this class again, he did. This time, the kids performed in front of the church. Currently, he is learning sign language. He challenges himself time and time again.

Most recently, he’s moved into competitive gymnastics, competing for the first time in January. He even volunteered to go first on his team on all the equipment. I would not have won any parenting awards in the weeks, days and hours leading up to his meet. Rather than encouraging him on what a great time he’ll have and how great he’ll do, I prepared him for coming home without a trophy or medal. Apparently I forgot this was my successful, overachieving, confident son I was talking to. He showed me by bringing home three individual medals out of six events, with their team taking 2nd place overall. In his third championship meet just this weekend, he placed in the top four in all six events (earning a medal in each category): floor, vault, pommel horse, rings, parallel bars and high bar. He placed second overall, earning his first trophy.

Academically, he is a consistent B student. Occasionally, he earns an A but overall he is still an above average student. He is studious and considered a role model by his teacher. Even though school does not come naturally--he does need to work for his grades--he has a great attitude and a model student. What more can a parent ask for?

The fact is that I in awe of the confidence that he has in what I think are scary situations. And I wish I had half or even a quarter of his successes growing up. With all things being even, I am not sure why I was a quitter, while he is a joiner. Fortunately, he got the best of our traits, and forgot the rest. And for that, I am grateful.

Carriers and Cruises

In less than a month, my husband and I will be celebrating our 13th anniversary. Thirteen might be an unlucky number but I feel fortunate that we have beaten the odds and have weathered the stormy times and come out victorious. I look back at our wedding and reception and smile contentedly. It was a magical day.

Most married couples have at least one moment from either their wedding or reception that is memorable for all the wrong reasons. Whether it is something small like an uncooperative flower girl or something more sizable like thunderstorms during an outdoor ceremony, the reality is that it never goes flawlessly. In fact, despite my fastidious planning, I knew that most likely something was going to go wrong and was determined to not become a Bridezilla in the process.


I must admit that I was almost disappointed that it all went without fault on our mildly sunny spring day. As our ushers rolled out the aisle runner, the string broke, which forced them to kick it down the aisle in a less-than-elegant fashion. At our reception we were greeted by our DJ before we made our official grand entrance urging us to immediately proceed to our cake to cut it before it toppled over. Unfortunately, it wasn’t looking quite as sturdy as the Tower of Pisa and no one was convinced it would hold up another 60 or 90 minutes. Still, as far as wedding ‘mishaps’ those are almost non-issues and I almost felt like something was wrong because nothing went wrong. Yes, I was almost disappointed.

But then we went on our honeymoon. Apparently, I spoke too soon.

The story began a few months before The Big Day. I volunteered regularly for a friend named Alice who had founded a pet rescue and adoption service. Mentioning our honeymoon plans of a cruise departing from Puerto Rico, she asked us a favor. She and her husband often traveled by cruise to various places, such as Puerto Rico and multiple Caribbean islands to rescue, spay/neuter and adopt cats and kittens from the region. (For anyone who has traveled those regions, homeless animals are plentiful). Alice asked us to allow her organization to tag approximately 20 cat/dog carriers of various sizes as check-in luggage for our flight. At the airport, a representative would be there to whisk the carriers away to the appropriate destination. They would handle the whole process and we would never been involved. With some trepidation, and as a favor to my mom who was also actively involved in their mission, we agreed.

As promised, everything went without hitch that very early Sunday morning before our flight. Truly, we were none-the-wiser that any extra luggage was checked in and we boarded our cruise line, relieved that our relaxing honeymoon was about to begin.

Until we came to our cozy cabin room and found 20 dog carriers piled high next to our luggage outside of our door. I was mortified.

Knowing that the ship was due to leave the dock in about 2 hours, we were panicked. Actually, I was panicked and my new husband was angry. From the beginning, he had more reservations about doing this ‘favor’.

Our ship purser was no Gopher from “The Love Boat”. While they tried to remain sympathetic to our cause, they also knew that this was not their problem and we were going to have to find a solution–which meant it had to be out of the hallway by the time the ship left the dock.

Fortunately, I was able to reach Alice by ship-to-shore phone lines. After she recovered from her fits of laughter she rectified the situation. In the end, the porters were able to get the dog crates back off the ship, meeting with the animal rescue group representatives.

So much for nothing going wrong. At the time, it seemed disastrous. Even though it is fun to hear “Mr. and Mrs. Krueger” for the first time, it is not fun to hear it over the intercom system of a cruise ship multiple times the first two hours of your honeymoon. Now? OK, I can talk about it, write about it–even laugh about it. And can honestly say I had that “memorable moment” (that is supposed to bring you good luck in your marriage anyway!)

And, it’s definitely one in a million.

What are YOUR memorable moments in matrimony?

Living, Breathing....and Reading "Harry Potter"

Three years ago I walked around with a raised eyebrow any time the mention of Harry Potter 'the book", or Harry Potter 'the movie" was mentioned. I did not understand the overwhelming media attention. Of course, I never got sucked into the Star Wars, Star Trek, and Lord of the Rings fervor either.  I am a self-declared science fiction hater. Perhaps its just the realist in me, but even as a child, I preferred The Flintstones and The Jetsons to the more 'out there' cartoons like Scooby Doo and Bugs Bunny. Harry Potter did not appeal my sense of style at all.

Publicly declaring my dislike for all things Harry Potter (and science fiction), a friend encouraged me to read the first book. He said that it's not science fiction, but rather, fantasy. Since summer was approaching and I knew I would have the extra time, I decided 'what the heck' and began the series. I had spent a lot of time bashing a series I really knew nothing about, except for the movie promos.

Nearly 4 months and 4,000 pages later, I was a believer. I loved the series. Loved, Loved, Loved.  As a reward for finishing each book, I watched the corresponding movie. During these four months (May to August), my then 8 year old son would ask if he could read the series or watch the movies with me. At 8, I thought he was too young to do either. Other 3rd or 4th graders had seen all the movies, whether age appropriate or not. A few had even tackled the book series. I was skeptical that children of that age could grasp either at all, much less it being appropriate for them.

It was after my husband gave me the series in hardback for Christmas that same year that I reconsidered reading them with Adam.  It was under the condition that we would read them together that I said I would allow him to begin the series after his 9th birthday.

From the earliest days of his life, I had always read with Adam. We tackled the Ready Freddy series in first and second grade and read all the Magic Tree House books by the end of the summer before fourth grade. Reading chapter books together was not a new concept for us. However, tackling a series of this magnitude was definitely new. With the first two books being over 300 pages each, even the shortest of them could not be considered short. "One page at a time. One book at a time" that was my motto. The thought of tackling all 7 books sounded overwhelming by any one's standards.

Initially, Adam would read one or two pages to every 5 or 6 pages that I read. Because, let's face it, if we tried to read page for page together, we would have never have even finished one book, let alone a series. Sometimes I felt like I should have been given a sainthood status. It took an incredible amount of patience to sit through Adam's reading when we first began. Nothing will test your reading ability as reading out loud. That is true for children and adults alike. In fact, I have new found respect for people who make their living narrating books on tape. Over time, Adam has really come a long way with reading to me and he's really grown in that department. Even his teacher noticed a marked improvement in his reading/comprehension scores once we began the HP series. Now for every two pages Adam reads, I read about 4.

Taking into consideration that we, on average, read together about every other day for 30 minutes, it has taken us about 18 months to read through the first five and 1/3 books. Currently, we are two hundred pages into Half-Blood Prince, which is relatively short at 650 pages. Short? Sounds ironic, doesn't it. Yes, compared to book five "Order of the Phoenix",  which is 870 pages, this one feels absolutely breezy in length. Crazy. Anyhoo....

Most of the time when I tell fellow Christians that I read this series with Adam, it is met with a little--and sometimes a lot--of criticism, which is actually the point of this blog, although I took a long time to get here. Are there series that are better suited for us to read together? Most definitely. But the fact that I have a preteen son who still wants to engage with me is more important to me than wanting to be 'politically' correct in our book choices. The simple fact is that while this book is filled with dark versus good, witchcraft and wizardry, it is also filled with friendship and love prevailing over all.  In third grade Adam 'lost' his love of independent reading. If I can find a series where he feels engaged and excited by reading, then I am all for it.

As a mom, much less a devoted follower of Christ, it would be irresponsible of me to allow him to read this series unsupervised. Even if he would be able to understand it without help (which he cannot --even though he is almost 11), we need to discuss what we are reading and what it means. I can bring God and Christ into this book series, even if JK Rowling doesn't.  The fact is that most of the people who feel strongly against  HP have no experience with the series, either book or movie. I don't mind someone having an difference of opinion of it as me if they read it for themselves and deemed it inappropriate. What I don't like is the hypocrisy of judging something by what media, the church, or 'others' have told them rather than experiential knowledge.

In addition to challenging Adam's reading and comprehension levels, I've noticed some other great benefits. We can talk about parseltongue, Erisad, Salazar Slytherin.....anything Harry Potter, and it opens the door to talk about other great topics. Frankly, if my son is talking to me as a pre-teen, maybe I can keep that open line of communication into those rough teen years. Is it guaranteed? Of course not. But at least he is learning that his mom is relevant in his life and is hip to what he likes and doesn't like. After reading all these books together, we are already thinking ahead to what happens when it's over. We are comtemplating our options as our next book series together.  It's nice to know that he appreciates this time with me, too.

No matter what opposition or judgement I face by the masses, I don't now regret, nor ever will I regret, this special time I've had with my son.  I hope it's actually just the start of many more series together.

Junk or Treasure?

Reproduced from an original posting by me at stlfamilylife.org

As far as winters go in the midwest, it has been a very wet one. Most of the time we see cold temperatures with a strange mix of sleet and ice. We are usually lucky to see any real snow more than once or twice. But this year we were hit with more snow than I've seen in years. So when Punxsutawney Phil declared an early spring, after an array of snow days I thought would never end, it seemed to me he had a sick sense of humor. Not to say it isn't a welcomed prediction;  it seems almost like it is too good to be true.

Supposing that the predicted spring comes sooner rather than later, my thoughts are turning to spring cleaning. It’s not the cleaning that I like per se, it is the organization part that energizes me. I actually enjoy cleaning out closets, drawers and the basement of items that we don’t want or need anymore. And I love it even more when the Salvation Army, Vietnam Vets, or another donation truck carries it all away. But what happens when you have large items that they don’t pick up, or alternately, you have something of value that could earn you money? Below are some great options no matter what your situation.

ebay

Originally named AuctionWeb, ebay was created in 1995 and was renamed after the creator’s consulting firm Echo Bay. It was an instant hit and is still a great way to buy or sell just about anything. In the late 1990s to early 2000′s, my husband and I were regular buyers and sellers on the site. Our surprise sell was a large battery powered Iron Giant figurine. We knew it was a rare find, but were especially pleased to watch a bidding war that resulted in it netting us over $110. They have improved the site over the years and it is easy to navigate whether a buyer or seller. The advantage to selling on ebay is that you have the option to set a reserve price of the minimal you will accept for a sold item, as well as a ‘buy it now’ price. The downside is that most auctions last 5 to 7 days, and in the end, may not even sell at all. It can also get pricey when you have multiple pictures and various listing fees.

Craigslist

Craig Newmark founded the service in 1995 as an email distribution list of friends, featuring local events in the San Francisco area, before expanding as a web-based business in 1999. In many respects, Craigslist is a simplified ebay, although it has classified ads, personal ads and even discussion forums. When we wanted to sell our son’s loft bed, Craigslist was the perfect choice. We wanted to list it locally and knew it needed to be picked up since shipping it was not an option. Generally speaking, we’ve had no trouble selling the items we put on there, but have had limited success in finding specific items we’re hoping to buy at a discounted price. Ebay has much better selection in that respect.

Freecycle

Although founded in 2003, Freecycle is a relatively unknown web-based service. Freecycle is the perfect place to offer large donatable items to fellow St. Louisans for free. Over the Christmas holiday, we were able to find permanent homes for a large sleeper sofa, 100 paver bricks, old cookbooks, my in-laws NordicTrack and a rug anti-slip backer. The sofa had been an eye sore in our basement for several years. I had exhausted all efforts to find a new home for it and was delighted to hear about Freecycle. We found a new home for every item we listed that week within 24 hours. Of course, the catch is that you are giving them away free to whomever is willing to come get them first. You cannot come back and ask for money. We also found that on several occasions we had no-shows and had to contact alternate takers. Could some of those items have earned us money? Most certainly. But, honestly, we were glad to be rid of them and the delight of having them gone outweighed the desire to make a few extra dollars or to lose out on the tax break that you would earn if donated to a charity. Another downside is that as a seller it’s not a particularly easy site to navigate, whether creating your initial account, or posting pictures to go with your ad. As a buyer, it’s simple and easy to use. It was my favorite new find of 2010.


So, as you clean out those closets and storage units this spring, think about the different options you have to rid your house of unwanted clothes, books, household items or tools. After all, what you consider junk may just be another man’s treasure.

To Facebook and Beyond

Hi, my name is Bonnie and I was a Facebook addict.

While it's embarrassing to actually type those words, it's true. It took me awhile to catch on to the whole FB phenomenon, but once I figured it all out, I was hooked. Initially, it was the rush of finding friends, former classmates and former co-workers and sending or accepting friend requests. Then I loved the quizzes like "What is your Harry Potter patronus?" or "Which Disney princess are you?" Eventually the new-ness of FB wore off and I felt like I had caught up on the lives of the roughly 200 friends I had. That's when I turned to games like Farkle, Wheel of Fortune, Family Feud, Bejeweled-and my favorite, Zuma Blitz. The fact was that no matter what I was doing on FB, it was too much. Too much lost time on something that had little value.

Over the three years I was a registered user, my husband and I argued about it off and on.  He did not understand why I wasted so much time on it and I found myself defending my position. In the last year, I definitely limited my time on it, although in hindsight, it was still excessive.

Over the same three years, I thought about privacy and security issues. Honestly, there was a little nudge in my heart and mind that made me wonder if this was really a secure thing to do. Posting pictures of my family and statuses that revealed personal information was probably questionable. Once I put things out there, they were out there forever. And I worried about it more and more. So when my husband approached me earlier this month and urged me to reconsider FB altogether for security reasons, I had to agree. At his work, my husband had been approached by some pretty high officials urging him and others in his work group (and their family members) to get off social networking sites. Seemed to me it was confirmation of something I had considered myself but did not have the courage to do.

Part of me was sad when I deleted my account but another part of me was relieved. In the short 10 days that I've been a recovered FB'er I have learned a lot about myself and have found this to be a mostly positive experience. Maybe what I discovered about myself is not typical. I suppose a more secure person with a more balanced approach would not relate. Still, I imagine I am not alone.

Insecurity

The biggest thing I learned is that all the insecurities I had as a child, teenager and young adult are still with me today. In fact, I think FB surfaced a lot of those insecurities that I did not realize I still harboured . Nothing like a social networking site to highlight your popularity factor. Not to say I did not have friends--I actually had 250 at one point. Of course, define 'friend'. Three quarters of my friends probably wouldn't cross a street to greet me so do they really count? There is something rather depressing about posting a status you think is funny, entertaining, poignant or profound and get almost zero response. And how many pictures do people really want to see of me or my kids? The fact remains that whether or not I am on FB, true friends will keep in touch and are genuinely interested in my life and seeing pictures of my family. The fact also remains that my self worth is based on my life itself and should never be based on a shallow Internet experience like Facebook. No longer am I rushing to check my notifications to see how well liked I am. Relief.

Voyeurism

My husband would tease me that FB was nothing more than socially acceptable voyeurism and I agreed. In hindsight, it seems kind of creepy to me that to expose so much of our lives to a number of people we barely know. No offense, but do I really care how wonderful your elementary school is where you teach or that you are working as a fitness trainer and have to be awake at 4 a.m. Or that you audition regularly for bit parts in television commercials.  Probably no more than you caring about my day to day life. It seems to me FB is just a way to toot our own horns and scream out in a silent way "Look at ME, Look at ME".

Contentment

Each person fights personal demons and silent battles. Struggling with depression, I am no stranger to the ups and downs in my own life. But I noticed that almost instantly after disconnecting from FB, I became much more content with my own life. Maybe this falls in-between voyeurism and insecurity, but how easy is it to get caught up in comparing your life to others based on what they post as statuses or in picture or video form? Don't we all paint our lives in the best tone possible for our social networking followers to see?  No one is happy ALL the time with the lives they lead. I had to tell myself to stop comparing my marriage to that of my newlywed friends or with the overachieving friends across town, I know everyone has struggles in their lives but living in the FB bubble, it was easy to fall into the trap that every one's lives were better than mine. And I do have a pretty sweet life.

Time

One of the positives I've witnessed in my own life in the last 10 days is in regards to time. The first thing I would do in the morning was grab my first cup of java and sit down in front of the computer and lose at least an hour on FB. Easily, I would find myself spending 15 or 30 minutes playing the various games and checking out the statuses on the scrolling home page, several times a day. Shameful as it was, I could conservatively estimate I lost 3 or more hours a day to the networking site. Certainly I had better things to do. Still, in my addictive personality way, I would keep coming back to the computer several times a day. In my defense I still accomplished a lot and never neglected my children or my responsibilities at home. But, I can say that I often felt overwhelmed at how rushed I always felt to complete everything I wanted to in one day. Having the extra hours in my day not sucked away by the computer is making me feel more at ease and much more even-tempered emotionally.  When I think of the hours lost, I am almost sick at how much I could have otherwise accomplished. What about my down time? I still have it. I spend some time watching TV shows I don't otherwise make the time to watch, or reading a novel I've been wanting to read. And writing for fun.

Personal Connection

Hands down, the best part of giving up FB is reconnecting with my family. No longer is my attention and loyalties divided. Even though my husband did not notice I was off FB until I actually told him yesterday, he did notice a change in our intimacy. And the kids are getting a lot more of my time. We read together and spend a lot of time just engaging one another. And they don't feel second best anymore. While I would never have considered myself neglectful in any form of the word, I also put my focus on the computer more than them at times. Maybe it's my imagination, but it seems to me that the kids are arguing less and seem happier. There just might be direct connection. Either way, home life has improved.

For all the arguments on why getting off FB has been a great thing, it doesn't mean I don't miss it. Sometimes I do. But rather than missing the abstract reasons of games and quizzes,  I miss the ease of communicating with my friends. And the general curiosity of what is going on their lives, whether that is voyeuristic or not. Yet, all I need to do is remind myself that my true friends will still keep in touch and our relationship will be better for it.  It's even a great excuse to go to Happy Hour together, or grab some dinner.

The bottom line is that FB was great for a season but it's time to move on.  It was a very fun way to reconnect with people from my past and create new relationships for the present. Facebook account or not, my true friends will still want to be my friend. It may take more effort and the communication be more limited. But honest-to-goodness relationships beat Facebook any day of the week.

Got Puppy? Now What?!?

Amended from original publication from the STLFL magazine in January 2011.

With my youngest child off to kindergarten every day (half days), what did we decide to do? Adopt a puppy of course! With the holidays come and gone, many families may now find themselves like us with a new four legged furry family member too.  After all, what is better than the squeals of joy at the pure delight the new puppy brings on Christmas morning? That pure joy, however, can quickly turn into overwhelming disillusionment if you are unprepared for life with puppy.

When we adopted Snickers (read about his adoption in the And They Call it Puppy Love blog), it was a spur of the moment decision that my husband and I had not really thought through. While I do not regret making him part of our family, the reality is that I wish someone had given me pearls of wisdom for those first few weeks of adjustment, which in theory, would have made the adjustment phase go more smoothly. My disclaimer is that I am not a breeder, a vet, or any kind of pet specialist. Please do not substitute my judgement for that of trained professionals. I am simply hoping to pass along real life practical tips that I helped me in unchartered territory.

Crate Training

Before nightfall, just hours after adopting Snickers, we decided that he should sleep in his cage at night. And not in our bedroom. Surely he would whine and cry the first few nights, and honestly, I did not need anything else to disturb my already dysfunctional sleep. I knew that if his crate was in our bedroom, at the first hint of a whine or cry, I would take him out of the cage and put him in bed with us. I knew that because that is what happened with my first dog Boo—and my cat. I admit it. I am weak.

In addition to not wanting to end up sharing my pillow with the new pup, I also understood that nighttime wandering opens up opportunity for Snickers to get up in the night and relieve himself or decide that, while unsupervised, endless chewing was a great idea. The important key is that whether you gate off a confined area, or use a crate, they need to be confined and have a safe area to call their own.

I also use the crate for any time Snickers is left home alone, whether it be a quick 15 minute errand, or for several hours at a time. Since dogs typically do not want to soil their crate, keep in mind that you never want to leave an un-housebroken dog in their crates for extended periods of time, if it can be helped.

Another time to use crate training is strictly as a safe haven when you have visitors. I had a group of Bible study ladies and their kids over at our house just a few weeks after we got Snickers and found him and my guests to be happier while he was confined. Even as I began writing this article, Snickers was in his crate while my daughter and her playdate ate lunch. Her friend was scared of the rambunctiousness of the dog and I felt it to be an appropriate response. For best results, do not crate your pup as a punishment. You never want the dog to associate the crate with being a bad place to go.

Some animal lovers may think that crating a dog is cruel, but if it is a safe, comfortable refuge, they will find it a great place to be. Always leave the crate door open during the day. You may find they use it when they don’t have to.

Dog Food

With my first dog, Boo, I fed him moist food in addition to his dry food, and gave him scraps of people food all the time. This led to unfortunate episodes of…bodily functions. The fact is I wasn’t doing him any favors by spoiling him with food that he shouldn’t have been given. Dogs have sensitive systems that can rebel if their food is suddenly changed or mixed. Since its in my nature to spoil my pup with people food, I’ve compromised by supplementing Snickers’ diet with Natural Balance brand dog food, which is a soft meat roll (much like consistency of Braunschweiger) that can be used as treats or shaved to top the dry kibble. It comes in a variety of flavors and package sizes.

Our vet told me that puppies will rarely overeat. He suggested I put out a certain amount of food each time. When Snickers is done eating (which takes anywhere from two to five minutes, tops!), pick up the food bowl until next feeding, rather than letting him graze. If he finishes his food completely right away, then he probably needs more per serving. Leaving a few kibble pieces at the end of each meal is the best case scenario in knowing that your dog is getting the appropriate amount of food.

Housebreaking

Arguably the most difficult challenge to having a new puppy, except maybe their sharp little razor teeth, is the dreaded housebreaking. Fortunately, with the beautiful weather we had last fall, Mother Nature made this a whole lot easier for our family. Snickers house trained in roughly 3 weeks, with only a rare accident in the house.

I am convinced that he house trained so well because I was diligent and consistent in taking him outside. Initially, for the first four weeks, I brought him outside on a leash every thirty minutes. Time and labor intensive? Certainly. Worth it? Absolutely.

Give your house training pup the time to do all his business. It takes them a little bit of time for them to fully empty their bladders and this will help save you some frustration in the process. Being autumn, Snickers often got distracted by chasing blowing leaves and by the multitude of people walking in the mild weather. He would often need to squat three or four times to completely empty his bladder.

It is also important to find the right Puppy Chow for your pup’s system. The wrong food can increase his need to relieve himself and increase your frustration in training. We asked our vet for his suggestion and quickly found a food that allowed Snickers to find success in the area of house training.

As labor intensive as house breaking is, I am glad I invested the time. Now that he is 4 months old, I usually only take him out once an hour, and have learned to discern his specific need when it’s time to be let out.

You’ll also want to invest in a good ’pooper scooper,’ to clean up the, um, treats that your puppy leaves behind in the yard. Particularly one with a long handle so you don’t have to get too close to the mud pie left behind. You’ll thank me for that piece of advice later.

These subjects scratch only the surface of things I have discovered since adopting Snickers. There is the subject of dog safety, obedience training, and how to handle the biting and chewing that ultimately comes with the little razor teeth. In all the unpleasant and difficult aspects of raising a puppy, there is still a lot of joy, too. If a puppy is right for your family, go for it! Because the puppy stage doesn’t last forever, but the family memories of your beloved dog will!

Family of Origin

NBC is renewing its runaway hit show "Who Do You Think You Are", whose premise is simple. They take a well known Hollywood person and research their ancestry. At first I thought the concept odd. What are these famous people hoping to find--um, famous relatives? Irony at its best. Famous or not, most people are interested in their family lineage and enjoy learning about relatives of different eras, cultures or backgrounds.

For various reasons, I was unsuccessful in researching my mom’s Yugoslavian heritage, so I decided to research my dad's family. I uncovered a French Canadian background from my grandmother's lineage. It became clear that my great grandma Longbottom chose love over money when she left a more affluent lifestyle to marry great grandpa Rau. Another fun discovery was that many of the aforementioned Longbottoms are buried in the same cemetery as the Shortsleeves. Truly. I'm just not that clever to make something like that up. As my research continued I also discovered that this French Canadian history connected us to some famous people: James Dean, Amelia Earhart, former first lady Laura Bush, Louis Pasteur--and my favorite, Joan of Arc.

While my grandma's family lends itself to some pretty interesting genealogy, the same cannot be said about my dad’s father’s family of origin, the Olsen’s. Not unless you think emigrating from Norway and settling in Chicago is exciting. No famous people, no affluence. Yet, despite the common nature of our family, we found one claim to fame through Olaf, my great grandfather. He had a prolific career as a driver, pipeman and fireman for the Chicago Fire Department. In the early 1900’s, he was photographed on his horse drawn steam pumper making its way through the busy streets of Chicago. This photograph was later reproduced in the National Geographic "We Americans" book, circa 1975. This has been a treasured part of the Olsen family legacy passed down throughout the ages.

When I received my own book copy, I eagerly turned to page 299 to find this reproduced photograph, reading the caption. "A steam pumper thunders down a New Haven, Connecticut, street in 1910 during the waning days of glory for horse and steamer." Yikes. Clearly the book publishers have false information. This photo was taken in Chicago. From there I contacted the New Haven fire department to ask about the integrity of the photograph. I received the following (amended) response:

This is a famous fire photo taken in 1910 by a student photographer on assignment in New Haven to cover Yale Commencement, specifically the graduation of President Taft's son, Robert Taft. The student was, en route to Union Station, having failed to complete his assignment, namely photographing young Mr. Taft, when he observed Engine 2, driven by Tom Lowery, racing to an alarm. With but one plate remaining in his Press Graflex camera, he recorded the moment. The resulting photo has become a classic fire photo, reproduced many times through the years. Ironically, Taft was standing on the corner of Elm and College and was captured in the picture.

And there you have it. It's not my great grandfather at all. A 100 hundred year old legacy debunked in a matter of one e-mail. I decided that the confusion is as simple as this: The man in the photograph bears an uncanny resemblance to Olaf and the picture was passed around because of the likeness in both physical appearance and occupation. "Doesn't this look like Great Grandpa Olaf" turned into "This is Great Grandpa Olaf". Even Olaf’s last surviving son, who died in 2008, resisted the notion that our claim to fame was just a big misunderstanding.

Researching our family trees is a beautiful way to understand who we are. Then again, sometimes it's about understanding who we aren't.