Posts

Showing posts from 2013

Junk food for the soul

Image
Some of my earliest childhood memories are of sharing McDonald's fries with my Dad after preschool. I would eat them. He would steal one. It was a game...sort of.  To this day I am very protective of my food. I take bigger portions than my 5 foot almost 4 inches really needs. I secretly always take the biggest scoop of ice cream or cake. In short, I love my food. So don't mess with it or deny me. Junk food is no exception, though my healthy Humboldt county husband brought more veggies and salad into my life. I relapsed mostly when I was pregnant with my second child. McDonald's sausage egg biscuits in the morning...Cheetos and Coke (not Diet) at 4 p.m. every day. It was probably NOT fate then that she has of late been my partner in crime when it comes to eating out. We discovered Mountain Dew slushees, smothered burritos and Doritos tacos and cinnamon twists at Taco Bell  and went back three times during the last few weeks when the healthy husband and vegetarian son were

Slacker time

Image
It's no secret that my husband is the glue who holds our household together. Now that he has been gone for over a week it's even more obvious! I have been eating out every night he's been gone except one. It seems that Taco Bell has really good and seemingly "healthy" food, so Anna and I have been there twice. The verdict is still out on the $5 Little Caesar pizza though. Alas, the bad role model fashion extends beyond our eating habits, as I've let the house go to hell as well. And I still have to mow the overgrown yard. Now granted this is the first week of school and I'm single Momming it, but still, how old am I that I can't put the folded clothes away after 5 days or pick up my shoes? Oh that's right, 44. Probably more than halfway through my life IF I'm lucky. So is this my mid-life crisis I keep hearing about? Guess I've been too busy to have one until now given some of the challenges my family has been facing in the last few ye

A poodle connection

Image
You know how you say "never say never?" Well, I know my husband sure did after our beloved Newfie-mix Kirby died last April. Now in his defense, my husband didn't hate dogs, just the allergies that came with one in the house...and reemerging childhood asthma. So I suppressed my dog-loving genetic code  for my marriage and we went on with our lives. At first I agreed it was less work not having one more responsibility. Less dog hair to sweep up. No rushing home after a long day to let the dog out. No poop to pick up before mowing. No $1,200 vet bills when the dog chased a squirrel and tore his ACL. But I missed the companionship. The unconditional affection. The sweet brown eyes. And the long walks. Then, just when I had pretty much come to the conclusion I would be dogless forever...we found Charlie! Never in all my dogs I'd had as a child and adult had we had the toy version. My impression of most small dogs was peeing on someone's feet from nervousness an

Maui Magic

Image
Well I had heard the rumors that Maui and Hawaii in general was a magical place. I have certainly been cast under its spell. It's not just one thing like the calming waves or the "Alohas" of people you meet on morning beach walks, or the fish tacos (yes, I find food to be quite magical). It's just this unexplainable "chill" factor. You unwind. I have not thought about work for nearly 7 days. I have drank less alcohol and walked or run every day. I have spent quality time with my 14-year-old daughter who I can see now really does need me if not in the way I might expect. Yesterday I met this amazing massage therapist who is legally blind. Always the journalist I asked many questions about Hawaii. She told me the story of how she used to come here as a teenager to visit her divorced father, a former NYC fashion designer. He went on to start a new life here, going back to school, getting his master's and PhD and becoming a renowned psychiatrist in Hawa

Finding your passion...Hawaiian style!

Image
Sometimes good things happen to good people. I'd like to think that is what happened to me a few weeks ago when trying to plan a trip with my 14-year-old daughter. What started out as the idea (hers) of a road trip to L.A. turned into a week's stay in Hawaii after a spontaneous suggestion by my husband. Our neighbor's condo just happened to be available and we had some mileage to help cover one plane ticket. We shopped for shorts, sunscreen and sun dresses (not really needed in the Northwest -- summer or no). Getting out the door was a bit harried as travel anxiety runs in our family but I only had to go back to the house twice for forgotten "maybe we'll need this" items, including a total of 7 books between us. Once on the plane safely, I realized I had booked our seats apart -- not next to -- each other. I knew this was probably a relief to my daughter, who had listened to my constant "did you do this?" for the last two days of packing. I found

Bye, bye American Pie...and bread...and pasta. Hello 40something metabolism.

Image
I'd heard the rumors. You get older. The natural metabolism of your 20s is replaced with unnatural energy created in part by chasing and driving children around in your 30s when suddenly -- POOF -- it just up and disappears one day in your mid-40s. At 44, the thought of not being able to indulge in my pasta and breads at will made me strangely sad. Growing up, my family social life was based around food and meals. My parents had dinner parties and growing up in the Midwest with Oklahoma blood, meat and potatoes was a staple diet. Then my Dad got transferred and the family moved to New Orleans where jambalaya, daiquiris and red beans and rice are king and the heat slows everyone to slow down and drink iced tea on the deck and not really care about calorie intake or expenditures too much.  Laissez les bons temps rouler (Let the Good Times roll)! I tried going vegan -- or rather porkless -- for awhile. And despite my families memory I also went vegetarian for a spell. But tofu

The Art of Being Alone

Image
Today was Father's Day and since my father lives in Oklahoma (we had a great chat) and my husband is not my father (though I helped make him one) I got the unexpected gift of having today alone. My daughter got swept up in a not-so-voluntary hiking/biking trip with her Dad to Port Townsend, Wash. My son was working a garage sale for a support group. So at 8:30 a.m. I was with just me. Now I'm not really one traditionally who does alone well. I am that extrovert who knows a lot of people and am a social creature. I love people and I love for them to love me back. I like to listen and comfort and ask questions. But lately I have valued this special time more. When life is crazy and busy working and driving kids to and fro and graduations and recitals and other "stuff" a day to myself was just what the doctor ordered. For starters I ordered some long overdue photos from Costco. I learned in the process that awesome photos you take on your phone cannot always be en

One of those moments...

Image
When you're driving home singing songs from "A Chorus Line" like you own it! You wake up with someone you love and his mouth is slightly open and you see what he might have been like at age 5. Your child gives you an unexpected hug. You belly laugh until tears well with your parents and sister on vacation. A child shows you something he is super proud of he made and you think, "This kid is going to make it!" You and your daughter see a homeless guy with a dog dressed up and a sign that says "We like food." The moment is when you hand him the sack full of a sandwich, bagels, a juice, dog snacks and a bag of dog food and a few bucks and he peers in and says to his dog with a huge smile on his face, "Look at this!" The dog's name was "Shy." A friend who has always been there for you calls unexpectedly to unload and ask for advice. You hope yours is good. You hope she gets what she wants.  You organize over 100  people i

Patience and Love

Image
There are times lately when I find myself asking "why?" and I feel numb. Other days my heart is filled with hope and encouragement. It is like I'm on a swing set, pumping up and down, back and forth, up and down, but not really going anywhere. It is hard when someone you desperately love has lost hope no matter what you say or do. The crying goes on, along with deception, self-loathing and darkness. No amount of hugs, listening or tripping over my own advice seems to help. There are no quick fixes to depression and addiction. Our society is set up to believe that if you get counseling, medication and detox or treatment, you will be well again. What I'm realizing is that nobody can make someone else well. Mental health issues are serious stuff that we can't blame on anyone else. Sure life's circumstances can throw you curve balls -- the trick is learning how to hit them back without taking short cuts like  self-harm, alcohol or drugs. It's hard work. T

Forgetful

Image
I don't know if it's a peri-menopausal thing, delayed ADHD or just my lack of focus nature but lately I've been the extreme act of losing things. Twice this week I've lost, found and lost again a thank you card signed by 10 other people. Today it was my credit card (left it at the restaurant in the little bill pay folder...even after I had signed and paid the bill). I would like to blame it on getting older, and recently a very stressful period in my life, but alas, I remember early in my marriage going through the trash looking for something. I had on my nightgown and was on my knees digging through potato peels, Hamburger Helper leftovers and whatever else a young couple just-out-of-college eats. I have no clue what I had lost or if I found it but I remember looking up and seeing my husband looking at my like a curious specimen in a museum (or maybe a zoo).    I was slightly ashamed but had no apology. I lose things. I stress. I guilt. It's what I do. Just li

Breathe

Back in the '80s...or maybe it was the '70s, I remember hearing about some self-help book titled, "I'm OK, You're OK." I think it's a great title, but unfortnately I cannot relate right now. I am not OK. My family is not OK. Oh yes, in the greater scheme of things we have food, water and shelter; two incomes; two great kids and live in a country that despite all its backward flaws and quirks is a pretty damn good place to live. But in the past week my life was turned on its head when I found out that mental health is NOT something to take for granted. Last Tuesday I spent 7+ hours in the Emergency Room psych unit at the local hospital. Out of respect of privacy for the individual involved, I am not going to say who, but let it be known that it was a very sad place and not one I want to revisit. The walls were that soft blue meant to calm. The rooms had no doors for protection and observation. And the lifeless shapes of people obviously desperate enough