tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89601744252214198582024-03-05T03:46:36.611-05:00The Road From OctoberDenisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-5368627245758641472016-09-27T13:13:00.000-04:002016-09-27T13:43:32.879-04:00We are Less Without Her<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Two weeks ago yesterday, my mom died. One week ago yesterday, I read the following words at her funeral. I have so much more that I want to say about her, and I'm sure I will in time, but for today, here's a glimpse at the amazing woman that she was. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you all so much for being here this morning. My family and I are completely overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and sympathy that has surrounded us all this past week. My mom would be overwhelmed too. As I preparing for today, there were two things that I knew would be really difficult…the first was getting up to speak after hearing my favorite hymn, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On Eagles Wings</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and the second (which won’t come as a shock to anyone here who knows me), would be limiting my remarks to five minutes. It takes me longer than that to say hello. But I promised I would, so here goes.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our mom, Dot Gavel, was an amazing woman. I know this, and my family knows this. But what this past week has shown all of us, is that you all knew it too. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My mom was one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. I know that she regretted never going to college, and having a chance to pursue a “career”. I have no doubt that she would have excelled at whatever she choose to do. One of her dear friends said this week, that Dot was a woman ahead of her time. Born in another era, she felt she might have run a large business. I always pictured her in medicine, maybe as a doctor or a nurse. But Dot didn’t follow that path, and instead leaves behind a legacy that I would argue means even more.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was 8 years old, Dot started caring for children in our home, following in the footsteps of her dear friend, Kay. This quickly grew into mom’s vocation, and Dot’s Tots was born. For the next 30 years, my mom helped to raise dozens of children, some from the age of 6 or 8 weeks old until the day they started preschool. Lots more stayed even longer, and would come home to Dot’s off the school bus in the afternoon. Our home, 14 Prouty Road, even became an official Fox Hill Elementary bus stop! These children and their families became like our extended family. So many families became lifelong friends. There has been a lot of talk this week about Dot’s fabulous lunches, like macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, or a “nice grilled cheese sandwich”, but it’s the comments like this one that I received that sum up the lasting impact my mom had on so many families. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“She was always so smart and generous, so kind, so hilariously funny. She gave such great advice and always knew when to set you straight or pull you in for a hug. I was always impressed by her deep understanding and empathy for people and her seemingly boundless capacity for love.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I agree with all of that, and wish I could take credit for those beautiful words,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And while Dot was able to be there for all of these families for all of these years, she was also able to be home for us, ready to listen and share our day when we came home from school or work.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So now to the harder part of my story…what my mom meant to OUR family. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We have a long running joke in our family that “it’s all about the food.” This stems from my mom’s love of food and her need, over the years, to hear all of the details of the meal we had at a restaurant or the food at a wedding that I catered, or the brunch someone was planning. But in recent years, we’ve all come to realize that the food has just been the backdrop of our lives. It was really about the open door policy at our house – friends always welcome, day or night, always room for one more at the table or at the party. Dot showed her overwhelming love for her family and friends by feeding us, whether it was her famous fudge, or a pie at Thanksgiving, Saturday lunches out at Jimmy’s on the Mall, or 5 pounds of Grammie’s famous chicken wings at a cookout. My mom taught me all about making my home a welcoming place, a place where people wanted to be, and she did it by example. She also taught me that people are not the mistakes they make. She could dish out the best silent treatment in the world (which was terrifying) if she was upset with you, but when it was over, it was over. Because you could talk to her and ask her advice, without fear of judgement even when she didn’t agree with you, many of our friends even sought out her counsel when they couldn’t talk to their own parents. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because time is running short, I want you to know that she also taught us to always have a dime for a phone call, that bra straps shouldn’t stick out of clothing (boy do I wish she could have taught this to everyone!), that you should always be on time, and that there was nothing we could ever do that would make her stop loving us. I hope that last one is a lesson that I have clearly passed on to my own kids - (that and the bra strap thing).</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perhaps the most important thing Dot taught us all was about living with grace and courage and strength. My mom faced more than her fair share of adversity in her life. She had to bury her child, my brother Donny, something that is inconceivable to me. She battled and survived lung cancer, and she lost my dad so quickly nearly 8 years ago, and yet she managed to go on and forge a life for herself. The last few years have been so hard for her. She struggled with nearly constant health issues and slowly lost a lot of the independence that was so central to the woman that she was. Yet through it all, her main concern remained how we all were, what was happening with her kids and her grand and great grandchildren, and making sure that we were all ok. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I can’t end on this sad note, because my mom would hate that. She’d never want anyone to feel bad. Instead, she would be much more concerned about what we were serving later on at lunch…because after all, it is all about the food. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you for loving my mom along with us. We are less without her.</span></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-62614084827102328902016-01-04T05:00:00.000-05:002016-01-04T06:53:13.456-05:00Fighting Through Afraid<br />
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Hi. It's been almost thirteen months since I last wrote, but it's time. It's past time.<br />
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I felt like I was finding my voice by late 2014. I had written some posts I really liked, and received some feedback from friends and strangers that gave me the courage to keep going. I felt like I was finally going to start writing about the stuff that really mattered, but then I froze. I was afraid. When it came right down to it, a lot of the "stuff that really mattered" that was happening to our family, wasn't truly my story to tell. And once I stopped, it just felt impossible to start again. Fear simply took over.<br />
So, while I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions, I am a firm believer if fresh starts. So this is mine.<br />
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Late 2014 and most of 2015 brought us a lot of personal and family challenges, but also a lot of happiness. In addition to the hard stuff, we had an engagement, a wedding, and a baby (three different family members), a new furry addition to our family, a study abroad experience, and probably most notable to my five, a new home. We're not exactly sure how it happened, but our happily ever after snuck (sneaked if we're being proper) up on us and we bought an historic old home that has finally brought us back to New England. For now it's for summer-time and whenever else we can make it work, but it will be our forever home in 5 or 6 years.<br />
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While I share those stories over the next few weeks and months, I will also try my hardest to be brave enough to share my stories about bullying, leaving adult friendships, helping people you love through depression and anxiety, readjusting expectations for your children, the heart-breaking journey of watching a parent age, and finding my place in this world. I'm not sure I'll figure out the last one any time soon.<br />
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In the meantime, 2016 will bring our extended family a 25th wedding anniversary (ours), a new baby boy, a college graduation, a youngest child's 16th birthday, a 50th birthday (mine) and a wedding, plus all of the stuff that we can't even imagine yet!<br />
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Whatever else the year may bring, it certainly won't be boring. Here's to a new beginning. I can't say I'm not afraid, because I am. But I'm going to push through it.<br />
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-40247879592958612122014-12-06T10:50:00.000-05:002014-12-06T10:50:12.295-05:00Pause<br />
Many years ago (but just yesterday in my mind), I was a young mom living a fairy tale, expat life in Denmark. I had three little ones, 6, 4 and 9 months and it was Christmastime. Christmas was my favorite time of year in Denmark.<br />
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It was beautiful.<br />
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It was simple.<br />
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It was magical.<br />
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<img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ovym1aD_ugo/TRarGsZvF6I/AAAAAAAANQc/nOtKo_GW1nw/s640/flagguilander.jpg" height="528" width="640" /></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ovym1aD_ugo/TRarGsZvF6I/AAAAAAAANQc/nOtKo_GW1nw/s1600/flagguilander.jpg">Danish Christmas Tree</a></span></div>
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<img alt="Classic amusement park Tivoli Gardens puts on a festive market in Copenhagen." src="http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/dam/assets/121220103928-christmas-markets-denmark-horizontal-gallery.jpg" /></div>
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<a href="http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/dam/assets/121220103928-christmas-markets-denmark-horizontal-gallery.jpg"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Christmas at Tivoli</span></a></div>
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And I couldn't leave it at that...I had to complicate it.<br />
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M was traveling a lot in the month of December that year. The details are fuzzy now, but I remember being faced with a lot of empty days and nights with just the kids. And just for the record, I use the word "days" lightly, because the sun was rising as I rounded the last corner to take Katie and Cole to school in the morning and it was pitch black as far as you could see out my kitchen window by the time we were having our afternoon snack. Winter days in Denmark are very short.<br />
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So I hatched a "great" Christmas plan. Armed with my well-loved, past Christmas issues of Family Fun and Parents magazine (the current issues wouldn't reach me in Denmark until around February), I decided that the kids and I would <b>make a new Christmas craft every day for the month of December</b>. Good grief!<br />
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I'm sure you're starting to get a picture of how this unfolded. We started strong. Beautiful little glass jars covered in glued on squares of tissue paper so they glowed like stain glass when filled with a lit votive. Beautiful, right? We still have them. But I was quickly in over my head. By what I like to think was day seven or eight (but could have been day three or four), I lost steam (and I think my will to live). What had started as a fun project to engage my children in the joys of the season, became a herculean task that felt like a weight around my neck as I scoured the aisles of the local hobby shop for just the right supplies (made extra fun by my inability to speak Danish). This hare-brained plan of mine almost sucked the joy out of Christmas for me that year. And that would have been awful.<br />
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I'd love to tell you that this one example provided the epiphany I needed to simplify Christmas and my life in general, but that was definitely not the case. Fourteen Christmases later, however, I think I'm finally starting to get it. Sometimes less really is more. Moms, and moms of little ones in particular, put so much pressure on themselves to be perfect, or Pinterest-perfect, as I like to call it. We run ourselves ragged trying to complete tasks that we think make Christmas. So here's my advice this holiday season...<br />
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Pause.<br />
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Take a deep breath and really think about what matters this year. Make a list of things that <b>MUST</b> happen before Christmas at your house. But here's the catch -- just put five things on that list.<br />
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Yes, I know this is tricky. But you can handle five. Twenty-five gets a little unwieldy. Try to let one of the five be something that's just for you, really. I have friends who pass up every holiday invitation they receive because they are too busy, or life is too crazy to squeeze in a bit of simple joy for themselves. This makes me sad. You deserve it...you really do.<br />
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So here are some thoughts...<br />
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Say "yes" to that invitation to the cookie exchange if it means spending an hour or two with people you care about that you never get to see. Buy the cookies (gasp!) if that's the only way you can go. Your friends want you, not your cookies. Okay, let's be honest, one or two of your friends really want your fancy cookies, but most of them just want you.<br />
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Don't send Christmas cards. Don't get me wrong, Christmas cards are one of my very favorite things about Christmas (and definitely one on my five musts), but if things are so crazy in your life that sending cards has become just another chore, than give yourself a break. Take a year off. No one will cross you off their Christmas card list for missing one year. The world will not end. I promise.<br />
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Meet a friend for coffee. It's just an hour. The laundry, or shopping or wrapping, will still be there when you get back.<br />
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Cheat a little. Slice and bake Christmas cookies, or better yet, the break apart kind, are just as fun for little hands to decorate. The sprinkles and the icing stick just as well to these as they would to that homemade dough, and you can use the time you save to have a cup of tea and read that beautiful Christmas issue of your favorite magazine that just arrived.<br />
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Cheat a little more. Christmas crafts are just as special made from construction paper and crayons as they are from modge podge, or fancy lace, glitter or other supplies (note to my much younger self). And who doesn't love crayons?<br />
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Decorate less. I know that you have forty-five carolers that need to be arranged in cute little vignettes around the house (oh wait, that's me), but maybe this year, they could send a small delegation to represent the rest.<br />
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I had friends in a few nights ago to assemble Christmas/Finals care packages for our college kids. It was way too early in December for my house to be fully decorated (I was just taking down the very few fall decorations that were out), so I went in the attic, grabbed what was within arm's reach, and did what I called "Five Minute Christmas". A few simple decorations spread out around the house to hint that Christmas was indeed coming. Guess what? It was perfect. Lots of laughs and stories and good cheer with good friends.<br />
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It was beautiful.<br />
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It was simple.<br />
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It was magical.<br />
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Make your list of five, and try to stick to it. Give yourself a break.<br />
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Pause.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>May your days be merry and bright!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-54012176967959541282014-11-13T13:03:00.000-05:002014-11-13T13:33:56.581-05:00It Really is All About the FoodMy sister and I have had this running joke for years. In our house growing up, one of the first questions my mom would ask if we had been out was "what did you have to eat", or "how was the food?" In high school, I worked on the weekends waitressing for a large catering company. When I'd get home from working a wedding or event, my mom would want every detail of the menu. We could spend an hour talking about the scallops wrapped in bacon or the spinach triangles make from phyllo dough. My catering friends would even send me home with the leftovers for her.<br />
Family cookouts were a huge deal in our house, as were holidays, and even Saturday lunches out. All those menus to plan. It seemed to have far less to do with who would be there, and far more to do with what we would eat. So...over time, the running joke prevailed. When there were gatherings that included my mom (and this still continues to this day), it really was all about the food.<br />
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But here's the thing -- she was right.<br />
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My boy was home from college this weekend (can you hear the glee in my voice?). Days before his arrival, the questions began via text message.<br />
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Me: Food ideas please!!! Dinner Saturday night? Crepes on Sunday?<br />
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Cole: I would love a simple pasta and chicken dinner.<br />
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Me: Like carbonara or fettuccine alfredo? Or pasta with red sauce?<br />
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Cole: Oooooo carbonara would be clutch.<br />
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<b><i>Clutch</i></b>, apparently, is a good thing.<br />
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The next day, as I'm getting ready to make the three plus hour drive to pick him up, I inform him that I'm bringing banana muffins for his ride home. He loves banana muffins.<br />
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So the weekend unfolded with an amazing dinner of spaghetti carbonara with pancetta and peas (thank you, Mike) and was capped off with crepes on Sunday morning, one of our favorite traditions.<br />
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Joe, Cole's good friend, even came to join us. He knew exactly when the last time was that he had joined us for crepes, and could recount the times he missed for various reasons.<br />
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So I'm telling you all this, not so you can rest assured that no Iafollas went hungry last weekend, but to explain why it really is all about the food. In our house, and I'm guessing in so many of yours, the food is so entwined in all of the good feelings and all of the memories, and absolutely in all of the best stories. I feel like we are our best selves when gathered around a table. Feeding our family and friends is just another way to show them how very much they are loved (I talked a lot about this <a href="http://theroadfromoctober.blogspot.com/2014/02/what-love-looks-like.html">BACK HERE</a> ). And in a house filled with girls who love to talk and share, and boys who would rather not (husband included), the table is a wonderful place to find common ground.</div>
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It was a great weekend. Far too short, and not enough time with my boy (I reluctantly shared him with his friends), but filled with lots of hugs and great talks and just being.<br />
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And on his way out the door, Mike put a still warm loaf of homemade pumpkin bread in Cole's hands to take back to school. Because in case you were wondering, it really is all about the food.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">This is our well-loved recipe. We use a whole stick of butter and regular muffin pans. They are delicious with chocolate chips or blueberries too. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-25342673471915147522014-09-30T15:58:00.000-04:002015-01-13T19:32:26.451-05:00I am a Terrible Parent<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm a terrible parent. It's true. The evidence is everywhere.</span><br />
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It's all I've been reading about these past few weeks. My Facebook feed is filled with stories and statistics about how my over-parented offspring barely stand a chance in life. All of my well meaning help, advice, support and love has evidently crippled them and left them unable to make choices and fend for themselves in the real world. At the first sign of rejection or adversity, they are apt to curl up in a ball and stay that way until I come to their rescue. They have been over-indulged by my helicoptery (yes, I made up that word) parenting style, and now they are doomed.</span><br />
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Up until a few days ago, I was actually buying this. It's been a rough few weeks, for so many different reasons, and I let this sort of stuff get to me and make things worse. Lots of self-recrimination, self-doubt and wishes to turn back time and do things differently. Well, I've given this a great deal of thought and here's what I say now...<span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;">BALONEY!!!</span></span><br />
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I can't for the life of me understand why so many people spend so much time looking for ways to put everyone else down or make them feel inept, misguided or broken, or at the very least failures at the one thing they thought they had done well. After reading all of this new "research", I am so very grateful that I am not the parent of little ones anymore, because I think I would be paralyzed with fear at the thought of doing everything so completely wrong. At least I had the good fortune of getting my kids to 20, 18 and 14 before realizing how badly I bungled everything.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Many moons ago</span></div>
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I am a good parent. Great on some days, significantly sub-par on others, but on balance, I am good. Are there things I wish I had done differently? Yes, tons of them. Here are a few...</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have taught them to do laundry sooner (definitely sooner than the day or week before they left for college. Oops.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have bought them fewer things</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have given them more chores</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have stayed off of Parent Portal and not micromanaged their schoolwork (I wish Parent Portal was never invented)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have given them much better money management skills</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have given them a much stronger foundation in a church. I never had it, so I did my best, but I really wish I had done more. I'm still trying.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have held out longer on things like cell phones, Instagram, <span style="background-color: white;">Facebook</span> and Twitter</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have said "no" a lot more when "yes" didn't feel completely right</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I should have worried far less if they liked me or not (but that goes for everyone in my whole life, so this is a skill I'm still trying to master)</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But there are many, many things I did that were right (for me), and that I would do all over again, and that I will continue to do, regardless of the naysayers. </span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I told my kids I loved them a lot, OK, a crazy amount. Sometimes several times in the same phone conversation. I will continue to do this. They will always know how very much they are loved.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I raised children with excellent table manners. I think it's really important and will get you far in life. We used to play "the queen is coming to dinner" game while practicing when they were little. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught my kids to always be polite to their elders. To this day there have been very few reports to the contrary</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught my children to look people in the eye and to shake hands</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught my children to always have an opinion</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them to love food and great big family meals. It's where the best stories are told.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them to love travel and adventure</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them to love books</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them to hold doors</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I apologized when I was wrong</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them that no topics were off-limits. I did this by talking to them about EVERYTHING, even the embarrassing and really awkward stuff, and I did it often. I did a lot of this talking in moving cars. They can't escape.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them that if they have a choice that will make someone feel good or someone feel bad, that should be the easiest choice they make. It starts with sharing a toy or a seat at a lunch table, but carries on to so many bigger choices in life.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught them to love animals and babies</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I showed them that service to others matters and told them that they have so much to give</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I listened</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I praised them...a lot. I refuse to put this in the negative column.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I took them lots of grown up places and trusted that they knew how to behave. Kids can't be expected to behave in restaurants, museums, hotels, etc. if you never give them the chance.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I told them they were smart, and beautiful and kind, because they are.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I asked too many questions, but as a result, I got a lot more information than most moms</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I taught my kids to be confident public speakers, a life skill that will never be wasted</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and I told them I loved them some more</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have watched each one struggle through hard times, from middle school mean girls (and yes, they are the worst), to bigger disappointments, and even through some really big things that I wished I could have protected them from forever. I helped in any way I could, even if that help could only be crying right along with them sometimes. I refuse to believe that praising them less and letting them fail more would have really made them more ready for the lives they are trying to live now (but the money management skills would have helped). And even if all of these articles are right and I am wrong, my kids knew (and always know), that they are never alone, no matter how far away they are.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So while they were clearly over-indulged (and still are to this day), over praised and definitely "over-parented", I think my kids are amazing, good, kind people, and I have every confidence that (with a few stumbles, I'm sure) they will forge their own paths into their own happy adult lives. They are not perfect. I am not perfect. We are, however, pretty perfect together. And in case you didn't know...I love them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I know my use (and non-use) of periods in my bullet points will make some of you crazy. I should fix it, but I'm just so grateful to publish this post after so much time has past, that I'm going to let that go.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Denise</span></span></div>
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He left for college ten days after graduation, and I have to be honest, my heart broke a little ( OK, actually a lot). He was so ready and so happy that it was hard not to be happy for him, but I do not like him being gone one bit. I miss him terribly. Which is kind of funny, actually, because he really wasn't home all that much before he left. He managed to cram a whole lot of fun into those ten days. But his head was on his pillow at night, right where I like it. Well, except for the night he and his pals slept on an island in the Delaware...but that's a story for a different day.<br />
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We keep in touch primarily via short, witty texts, but I have had a few phone calls, two of which lasted more than 45 minutes each! When I shared that with my good friend and neighbor, she informed me that she didn't think her teenage son had spoken to her for 45 minutes straight since he'd been in high school. I guess I should count my blessings and be glad that I raised another talker. The best part of my last conversation with Cole was when I told him I was trying to give him space and not call or text too often. His response..."Mom, I don't need that much space." Glee! That's what I felt right then!</div>
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So this is what's been happening since he left...</div>
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Katie was in Secret Garden. A wonderful show with beautiful, haunting music. I never get tired of seeing her onstage.</div>
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Abbey spent a week at Singing Camp with some good friends and I got to enjoy her awesome concert last Thursday.</div>
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I cut off all of my hair. I decided to give the Claire Underwood look (from House of Cards) a try for the summer. It so easy. I love it.</div>
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My family completely indulged me and took me to fireworks for July 4th. I am sucker for really good fireworks and it had a been a few years since I'd seen any.</div>
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The hardest thing I've had to do since Cole left, is leave for vacation without him. We had planned this year's vacation for July instead of August so that we could all be together because Katie and Cole both left for college at the end of the summer. A three week getaway. We weren't banking on summer session when these plans were made last October. That's what I get for always trying to outsmart fate by planning things to a T.</div>
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But here I am, in my favorite place on earth. The place were I feel the most complete, the most at peace, and the most like my very best self. I hope you like it too, because odds are, every post for the next three weeks will feature this sweet little corner of the world. </div>
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The view from my bedroom deck</div>
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Navy ships in the harbor</div>
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Sailing School</div>
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I'd love to hear about your place. Where would you be if you could be anywhere?</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-51906012233011229322014-06-19T08:24:00.002-04:002014-06-19T08:24:44.210-04:00Summer BreakfastIt's another busy day here...Abbey's 8th grade awards ceremony is this morning, her talent show is this afternoon, and Cole's graduation is tomorrow. Lots of last minute things to do.<br />
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I'm savoring a few minutes before it all starts by reading the blogs that I love and that brighten my day.<br />
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I'm also eating my favorite summer breakfast...</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> English Muffins with Ricotta, White Peaches and Sea Salt</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq907lMNPdviBGKGqySVThduufoToB29F_JOJ1XzzZ_saYIYbAn9s20e9nWIdAL7R8GaVnhQA4BXTkInDTNAL8zIfCy2j3liujuleINJidsr_5ItU4vLrUdQJfpml2Pnsm1MxCxQ51yXsF/s1600/photo+(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq907lMNPdviBGKGqySVThduufoToB29F_JOJ1XzzZ_saYIYbAn9s20e9nWIdAL7R8GaVnhQA4BXTkInDTNAL8zIfCy2j3liujuleINJidsr_5ItU4vLrUdQJfpml2Pnsm1MxCxQ51yXsF/s1600/photo+(10).JPG" height="640" width="510" /></a></div>
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I use the Thomas' Honey Wheat English Muffins which have a bit of sweetness. Don't be thrown off by the sea salt. It actually helps to bring out the sweetness in the peaches. Trust me. This one is a keeper.<br />
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This was originally a bruschetta recipe (which is also amazing) with toasted baguettes, but I decided it would make a delicous breakfast -- and I was right. So good.<br />
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Enjoy your day!<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-22037648293451851022014-06-18T09:29:00.001-04:002014-06-18T09:29:32.919-04:00Eleven Days and Humble ThanksMy boy leaves for college in 11 days. He graduates from high school in two. I'd like to stop time, but I know that would only be for my benefit, not his. His face lights up these days at the thought of what lies ahead. I'm so proud of the man he's becoming.<br />
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Cole's graduation party was a big success! Lots of great food, friends and family. </div>
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I think the highlight of the day for Cole was a surprise visit from the town ice cream man. There is only one ice cream truck in town, and all of the kids have known Slobie since they were little. It was a big hit, with everyone. Cole even got to spend some time in the truck.<br />
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My favorite part of the day came later when Cole, his uncle and his friends sat around the fire pit playing guitars and singing. He sang Rocky Mountain High, which gets me every time (<a href="http://theroadfromoctober.blogspot.com/2014/06/music-and-memories.html">more on that here</a>). It was a memorable day.<br />
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Monday night was Baccalaureate. What a beautiful evening. Great performances and great speakers.</div>
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Late Monday night, I was browsing through Twitter and saw a tweet from Cole. I typically hold my breath when reading Twitter, because Cole has been known to tweet some "heat of the moment" things that I'd love to leap into cyberspace and erase, but that night was different. He had tweeted out enormous praise to a girl at school that he barely knows. She had gotten up and read a long poem at Baccalaureate about some of the struggles she's had in high school and what it all meant going forward. My heart was full. </div>
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And my heart if full of humble thanks this morning to Sarah at Clover Lane. I have a guest post today as part of her Coming Home series. You can read it <a href="http://www.memoriesoncloverlane.com/2014/06/denises-story.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+CloverLane+%28Clover+Lane%29">here</a>. Sarah's blog is my absolute favorite, and reading it gave me the courage to start my own. I was honored when she asked me to participate. Thank you, Sarah!</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-62221059296065342972014-06-13T08:00:00.000-04:002014-06-13T08:32:20.691-04:00Music and MemoriesWhy is it that music can bring you back to a specific moment in a split second? To a memory so crystal clear that it feels like yesterday. It's happened a lot lately. More than usual. Mostly great memories, some bittersweet, some sad, and only a few I'd rather forget.<br />
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I'm fascinated by music and memory. I struggle to remember the name of an acquaintance before she gets to my end of the grocery aisle, and most of the time I can't remember why I went upstairs by the time I get there, but if I hear the first few notes, I can sing almost any song from the 50's and 60's (complete with dance moves too) and that isn't even the music of my generation. Those were well spent Saturday nights listening to WHDH's Saturday Night Live at the Oldies on the radio with my family. Clearly I would be able to remember where I left my iPhone (twenty times a day) if I didn't have two decades of oldies cataloged in my head. But I'm glad I do. I love that the first few bars of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEllHMWkXEU" target="_blank">Mack the Knife</a> make my heart overflow with love for my dad. What I wouldn't give to hear him sing it just one more time.<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78O6--THTF0" target="_blank">Carolina in my Mind</a> will always be a sweet memory of my friend, TJ, and the soundtrack to a story he shared many years ago. He's an amazing man now, but I see that sweet college boy whenever the song starts to play.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijACqMleJfHRygktnegqm97C4aVTBQGtc-BJWCBoERLXWuc_hmJyfXzNvGXoHeSYo9NFldAqtE_gZgSbjAMyKR7a1pmnR2JM2goCLl4njemvl_eIWi-HSv9fIspN4302DG51SlPWOcPkms/s1600/scan0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijACqMleJfHRygktnegqm97C4aVTBQGtc-BJWCBoERLXWuc_hmJyfXzNvGXoHeSYo9NFldAqtE_gZgSbjAMyKR7a1pmnR2JM2goCLl4njemvl_eIWi-HSv9fIspN4302DG51SlPWOcPkms/s1600/scan0019.jpg" height="640" width="457" /></a></div>
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I can't hear <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITie7FinrPQ" target="_blank">Rocky Mountain High</a> without thinking of my brother, Donny. It always made me think of him and of his struggles, but after we lost him, it became my anthem to him.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFuSNRToMH9EbRg-FKCDgpAd1NjZg4WQdh1eri6NYl4nJ6Gjn1zj7SupWixS7YBf-GfHqNY7XHsvu2nb1oLA-XX4v-iV9fqXV7rjnueGoUII0uiIG4wxfiVIZASrHP3olyUme9wTI9_Wq/s1600/Scan0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOFuSNRToMH9EbRg-FKCDgpAd1NjZg4WQdh1eri6NYl4nJ6Gjn1zj7SupWixS7YBf-GfHqNY7XHsvu2nb1oLA-XX4v-iV9fqXV7rjnueGoUII0uiIG4wxfiVIZASrHP3olyUme9wTI9_Wq/s1600/Scan0015.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></div>
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I have a million more, but you get the idea.<br />
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The song that gets me these days (and probably every time I hear it for the rest of my life) is Brad Paisley's <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RQ3bn7V0zdU">Letter To Me</a>. This song makes me think of Cole, where he's been, and the great future he has ahead of him.<br />
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The tears have started again. So I'll stop for now.<br />
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What are your songs and the memories they bring back in an instant? I'd love to hear.<br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-34124312389856721272014-06-12T11:50:00.003-04:002014-06-12T13:19:31.890-04:00To Do ListWith Cole's Graduation Party in two days, here is my to-do list for today...<br />
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<li>Rinse off Adirondack chairs out back</li>
<li>Organize all the paper products and wrap knives & forks in napkins for basket</li>
<li>Confirm what time tent is arriving on Friday</li>
<li>Finish washing all extra comforters for Cole's post party sleepover</li>
<li>Plan Father's Day breakfast for Sunday</li>
<li>Continue to pray that the rain stops and the sun comes out by Saturday</li>
<li>Finish Cole's slideshow and add music. Try to keep the tears to a minimum</li>
<li>Breath</li>
<li>Try to forget that my boy is leaving for college in just 17 days</li>
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I think I'll get through the first few things. Not too sure about the last three items. Wish me luck.</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-90680168634423015162014-05-29T10:40:00.004-04:002014-05-29T10:44:32.903-04:00Multi-tasking (also called Mothering) is Not for the Faint of Heart!Wow! It's been quite a week. Scratch that. It's been quite a month (or months). There will always be a reason not to find time to write. But I feel great when I do, so I've got to find a way to make it a priority. Here are just a few things (most marvelous, and one not so much) that kept me running around and away from the computer...<br />
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Saturday: Set-up for the amazing Relay for Life event! I had the first shift, so my job was to get Abbey and her friends safely into the event, set up the tent and their supplies, and make sure they were all sun-screened (I'm a fanatic about this). I got to walk a few laps around the track with some friends and reflect on this amazing event and all the good work it does.The five middle schools in our school district run the largest school-run Relay for Life event in the country, and has raised over $2.5 million in the last 11 years! Pretty amazing for middle-schoolers! Abbey was part of a team of only six girls, and they were honored as one of the top three fundraising teams at their school. They raised over $2000 on their own! I'm so very proud of these girls!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Abbey took pictures of the luminaries honoring my mom, a lung cancer survivor, and in memory of my dad who died of liver cancer, and my mother-in-law, who lost her battle to melanoma. Relay for Life means a great deal to our family.</span></td></tr>
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At dusk the whole track is lit up with luminaries. It is such an amazing sight and Abbey knew I was sad to miss it. She texted me this beautiful picture.</div>
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After leaving Relay, Katie and I headed to NYC to see Neil Patrick Harris in <a href="http://ppc.broadway.com/shows/hedwig-and-angry-inch/" target="_blank">Hedwig and the Angry Inch</a>, This was Katie's big Christmas gift, and she'd been waiting months to see it. We had an amazing dinner in a little cafe -- great food, great conversation and lots of fun people watching -- and headed to the show.<br />
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What an amazingly powerful show! Probably not a show for everyone, but we loved it! As I've mentioned before, Katie is my theatre girl, and waiting at the stage door is her most favorite thing of all. We went to the 7PM show, and found out immediately after the show that the cast would not be coming out until after the 10PM show. Katie was devastated. After some quick texting back and forth with Mike at home, I decided we would stay. Not a decision I made lightly. This would mean three extra hours in NYC before we even began waiting at Midnight. Katie was overjoyed! In true Iafolla fashion, we realized the only solution was to find another restaurant. We passed some time in a wonderful Italian cafe, until we took our spot behind the barricade to wait...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing actress and singer Lena Hall</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NPH - live and in person!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not my best iPhone camera work! But it was REALLY late and there was lots of jostling in the crowd!</td></tr>
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As you can see, it was all worth it! Katie's feet haven't touched down yet! The 2 1/2 hour drive home was brutal, but we kept chatting and made it home safely at 3:45 AM. Yikes! I can't remember the last time I was awake at that hour. My girl was over the moon...and my heart was glad.<br />
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Sunday: I'm sure lots of important things happened, but I was too exhausted to truly remember what they were. I know I made lots of lists in preparation for Monday's adventure.<br />
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Monday: Cole, Michael and I headed out at 7AM for the four hour drive to Georgetown University Hospital in DC. Cole needed pre-admission testing for his surgery the next morning (<a href="http://theroadfromoctober.blogspot.com/2014/03/spring-break.html" target="_blank">I talked about this here</a>) We capped off the day with a great dinner in DC. While we were all dreading the next day, we also had a wonderful night. I can't remember the last time that Mike and I had Cole all to ourselves. We got to talk a lot about friends, graduation and college (which is coming WAY too quickly -- but more on that later). Cole is insightful, and very funny, with his dad's dry sense of humor. I'm going to miss him so much when he's gone.<br />
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Tuesday: Waking up at 4:30 AM is just wrong. Period. We arrived at the hospital at 5:45 AM and settled in for a long day of waiting. Cole was as cool as a cucumber. I was a wreck. At about 7 AM, I kissed my boy as they wheeled him off for surgery (sinus surgery, nasal reconstruction and three wisdom teeth pulled. UGH!). It was a bit surreal to be in this hospital again. Almost a year ago, Katie had her orthognathic surgery here, and spent three days in the pediatric ICU ( I will write about that eventually because I think could help some people facing the same thing -- but I'm not quite ready yet). We could have had Cole's surgery done much closer to home, but Katie's surgeon was so amazing that we couldn't imagine having anyone else operate on Cole. Three hours and two surgeons later, Cole was in recovery. The surgery went exactly as planned, and this is how he looked.<br />
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Honestly, it was so much better than I expected. You may think that I'm invading his privacy by posting these pictures, but you don't know Cole. He tweeted these pictures moments after his eyes were open. I'm not kidding.<br />
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Wednesday: We had a follow-up appointment with Cole's primary surgeon and then began the long car ride home. Cole was in a lot of pain, but boy was he a trooper. Katie did an amazing job of holding down the fort and taking care of Abbey while we were gone. They were both thrilled to have us all back. Now began the several day struggle of finding things that Cole could/would eat and managing his pain.<br />
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Thursday: My baby turns fourteen!! How did this happen? I wish I could freeze time. Here was my little tribute to my girl on Facebook...<br />
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<b>Happy 14th birthday to my amazing baby girl. I love you more than you'll ever know. You are beautiful inside and out, and I'm so grateful that you're mine.</b></div>
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Yes, that is a giant doughnut cake! Isn't that the greatest thing you've ever seen? Abbey's big celebration (complete with mom's carrot cake) was happening a few days later over the Memorial Day weekend (pictures to follow), so a friend gave us this fabulous idea. It was a huge hit and a bargain...$10 for a giant doughnut that lasted for days. We've decided to get one for every Iafolla occasion from now on. Abbey's actually birthday didn't get quite the fanfare it deserved because of Cole's surgery and recovery, but we made it up to her on the weekend.</div>
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So that's a not so brief recap of a bit of what's been going on in our house. Some special moments with each of my kids, although Cole certainly got the short end of that stick this time. </div>
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He's doing so much better and headed back to school yesterday. Hard to miss six days in your senior year. Six days of AP Statistics is a whole lot to miss...I think his head is spinning a bit! </div>
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It felt great to be back at the computer, so let's hope it continues. More pictures of Abbey's birthday celebration to follow. There were lots of babies here, and I love babies. Until then...</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-25071093687998740302014-03-20T15:09:00.000-04:002014-03-20T17:32:08.880-04:00Spring Break<br />
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Katie was home on spring break last week. I am so grateful that this is where she chose to be while many of her friends opted for sunny climates and carefree, parent-less adventures (and who could blame them?).</div>
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The week with my girl went by way too
fast, and I want her back.</div>
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I want her back so that we can savor the many, many
good times and stretch every awesome second out of them, but I also want her back so that I can
pull out my handy little wite-out pen and smooth over the few bumpy parts of
our week. The times when I said the wrong thing (or just said it one time too
many), or when my exasperation about her way of doing something (read between
the lines…not my way) came through loud and clear. I hate those moments. I am immediately filled
with regret, even when I know that many, probably most, of the things I say are
things that she needs to hear.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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These moments, the good and the bad, happen every day in
every kitchen of every mom that I know. We do the best we can in that moment,
but sometimes we really miss the mark.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am a mom who
apologizes. If I get myself all worked up over an issue, or situation or
teenage eye roll and then something harsh, or less kind than I intended comes out of
my mouth, I will apologize. But I expect the same in return when it’s my child with
the fresh tone, or snarky comment, or utter disregard for everything I’m doing
(luckily this last one is rare). I will also apologize is I find out after the
fact that I was wrong about something; a situation, a friend, or even just a
trivial fact that I was so sure was correct. Again, I hold the kids to the same
standard, with me, and with the other people in their lives. It’s a good
balance, a give and take, and it works for us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am also a mom that speaks her mind. I can’t help it. The
words are out before I can stop them. If you ask for my opinion, I will gladly
give it. The trouble often comes when the opinion is out there and no one even
asked for it. I was out last night with a bunch
of really great ladies (subbing at Bunco – so much fun). One mom, whom I adore and wish I knew better, was
talking about biting her tongue and not giving her opinion to her 21 year old
daughter about a boy that the daughter really likes. I can understand trying to
bite your tongue if you think it’s a mistake, or if the boy is no good, but
this mom would like nothing better than for her daughter to give this boy and
this relationship a chance. I would NEVER be able to keep that to myself. Truly. I
know I should really try, and that one day my kids may have to silence me with
a big, fat “butt out”, but it is just so hard.</div>
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So I say all this because these types of things are what make
up the fabric of our family. It is the flawed and beautiful story of our lives,
our collective memory, where we weave our relationships together built on
mutual respect, give and take, good times, bad times, lessons learned, tears of
sorrow and sadness and tears of laughter and pure joy shared together. Sometimes I say the right thing -- sometimes I don't. I like to believe that at the end of any given
week, there is far more good than bad, far more talking and sharing and hugging
and texting with little happy, kissing, smiley face emoticons (I really love
getting those!) than harsh words, loud silences and hurt feelings. And I really
do believe that on balance we err really far on the side of the good stuff. We are very lucky. If one week
is bad, or particularly hard, the next brings just the right amount of joy and
laughter to fill the gap of the week before. I guess that’s how life works. One
foot in front of another. Tomorrow is another day. Sunday starts another week.</div>
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All of this brings me back to Katie’s spring break. With
only one week together, I always wish for everything to be perfect. But it can’t
be. I’m not perfect. She’s not perfect (although, she’s close…insert kissing,
smiley face emoticon here!). I hope she got off the plane and headed back to
her dorm filled with a week full of good memories. I hope that she too used her little wite-out pen to smudge out our less than perfect moments. And I hope above all, that she returned to school with the
overwhelming sense that her mom loves her with everything she has and
everything she is. Because I do.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are some of the highlights of our week...</div>
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Cole picked Katie up at the airport and drove her straight to Abbey's performance of Dear Edwina. It was a complete and very happy surprise for Abbey, who thought that Katie would not see the show until the next day.</div>
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This is one very proud big sister. Katie performed on this very stage for three years and is thrilled beyond belief to see her sister on it.</div>
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So, so proud of my little Periwinkle</div>
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Katie, Cole and I had a road trip to the DC area for a few doctors appointments. Cole has some upcoming sinus surgery and needed an evaluation, and Katie had her ver<span style="background-color: white;"><b>y final </b></span>appointment, after two plus years, with her completely amazing maxillofacial surgeon. She had very extensive jaw surgery (orthognathic surgery) last June, something I will write about soon, when I can work up enough courage. </div>
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While this may not sound like a highlight, it actually was. We absolutely LOVE Katie's doctor and his entire staff, so it was great to see them. We also squeezed in some really fun shopping at Banana Republic -- my favorite store these days! The bad part is, I think it is now Cole's favorite store too. Oops, I created this monster! But it was really a highlight because Katie and I had Cole in the car for a total of almost 8 hours that day. That much time with Cole almost never happens. He was funny, and fun and just a joy to be with, but he is a very social creature and does not spend a great deal of time at home with us these days. We laughed and talked and listened to a few episodes of <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/" target="_blank">This American Life</a> (one of my very favorite things) through the magic of the iPod. We capped off the drive home with a stop at the Maryland House rest stop. Katie and I opted for our favorite road trip food, Nathan's Hot Dogs. Cole went off the board with this...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3TrAfqW-aLch9PdkyfMWyTDug-lkxqJbi3J9C9nsq-giwouAN1tQOpHbO8finI2Jxe_94bM9ATuBLwaqXPft_XNO43qzLSZ_zg-kPT-i05yG7tCbzPZGkk4RqEQAheFXcuJ8SVwBhh9w/s1600/IMG_5584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3TrAfqW-aLch9PdkyfMWyTDug-lkxqJbi3J9C9nsq-giwouAN1tQOpHbO8finI2Jxe_94bM9ATuBLwaqXPft_XNO43qzLSZ_zg-kPT-i05yG7tCbzPZGkk4RqEQAheFXcuJ8SVwBhh9w/s1600/IMG_5584.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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It was some sort of Fried Seafood Extravaganza. Not what I would choose at a rest stop. Katie and I were skeptical, but Cole proclaimed it the best rest stop food ever!</div>
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Katie and I had planned a trip into NYC to pick up some dance shoes that had been a Christmas gift. We knew we would see a show while we were there. Katie decided to invite Abbey along on her "mom day", so we pulled Abbey our of school and went to see...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilGoAYBQ5WpO_8d18z1wsmyD4vKuTWpLwVCu8EkQHPxOGHD2bMx_uEN40uS_iNnqxkhDNHsmMYw5YtqGUPHf3Ret-mbH-6j6Ec8uv0XRQpY0WBVZuixdvWgfOC2Wd7OQTzEPkIix_r-zwQ/s1600/photo+3+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilGoAYBQ5WpO_8d18z1wsmyD4vKuTWpLwVCu8EkQHPxOGHD2bMx_uEN40uS_iNnqxkhDNHsmMYw5YtqGUPHf3Ret-mbH-6j6Ec8uv0XRQpY0WBVZuixdvWgfOC2Wd7OQTzEPkIix_r-zwQ/s1600/photo+3+(1).JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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It was spectacular! We had such an amazing time! The children in the cast were phenomenal. We actually got to talk to them after the show while we were all waiting for our cars in the parking garage. They were so sweet and little, and their smiles beamed from ear to ear. My girls were thrilled.</div>
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Abbey in Time Square</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Bad iPhone pictures -- but very happy girls. We got home very late, and Abbey was really tired the next day, but it was soooo worth it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEih9hJafwZs3gBkKB_dpMiJq0Zb0xqL2SfexGAOyVrClvaFzcAnflFh25olNAcgU6c3fJ2IVMnVoAY_fUyDdtt8NENtKl8Yq6r59wUiOrhFh6mUnpegFTuXOyn6Dpe2h3EPywuTsi5vuV/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEih9hJafwZs3gBkKB_dpMiJq0Zb0xqL2SfexGAOyVrClvaFzcAnflFh25olNAcgU6c3fJ2IVMnVoAY_fUyDdtt8NENtKl8Yq6r59wUiOrhFh6mUnpegFTuXOyn6Dpe2h3EPywuTsi5vuV/s1600/photo+3.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">All of this fun AND my first born turned twenty while she was home. Happy birthday, Katie. It was a good week.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span></span></div>
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<img src="http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=79291904" /></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&docid=QqZG53-NWWIjrM&tbnid=7wvgcfezfDOF-M:&ved=0CAYQjRw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.polyvore.com%2Femojis%2Fcollection%3Fid%3D3331540&ei=NzkrU5zUKOTC0gHvjYGgBQ&psig=AFQjCNFdThdbGrohq4jkh0UGNXk2p9aw2Q&ust=1395428002502399" target="_blank">The Kissing Smiley Face Emoticon I Love</a></span></div>
Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-6590258411519596652014-03-19T15:13:00.003-04:002014-03-19T15:16:46.491-04:00This Really is It!<div style="text-align: center;">
One night, about two weeks ago, through a series of clicks and wanderings on the computer, when surely I should have been doing any number of "more important things", I came upon this video. It is worth every second of the 5:31 it will take you to watch it (plus the few extra seconds you'll need to get up and get a tissue when the tears are streaming down your face). Go ahead...I'll wait.</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=vYmQs8bs1cY" target="_blank">Kelly Corrigan</a><br />
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Wow, right? Kelly so beautifully and eloquently put into words exactly how I feel about being a mom to my kids. What a privilege and honor it is to be their mom (except in those moments when they are torturing me about something :) ) My whole purpose for finally starting this blog (<a href="https://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8960174425221419858#editor/target=post;postID=2435865334060101891;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=8;src=postname" target="_blank">read here</a>) was to write/reflect/urge myself through this stage in motherhood where I don't feel my footing is as strong as it was when my little people were grabbing me around the legs or twirling my hair while I held them on my hip, frantically trying to throw dinner together before Mike walked in the door. I may not have known it then, but those were the easy days. </div>
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I have never regretted one moment of my choice to be at home all of these years, but every one in a while, when I hear of a friend or school mate who is a mom AND has some fabulous career, I wonder if I'll be able to find that calling or purpose in the future, or, more importantly, if anyone will see my value after all of these years.</div>
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After listening to Kelly, I've spent more time reflecting on all of the amazing days and years with my little ones,</div>
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and trying to savor exactly what's happening right now, this minute, with each of them. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTULLSSBnKWEE9Mxe0osliLOpL-lQZKp1jZ1i12odfHZotZ5An7I7V-PinyKMjC6KWJTuLuKFoWI6e8hxZu3V07WHp3Njpr3AjRj4yDKQl-Puvib23jqAyW1EguogdJuUbLpe-_darlIzc/s1600/DSC_0457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTULLSSBnKWEE9Mxe0osliLOpL-lQZKp1jZ1i12odfHZotZ5An7I7V-PinyKMjC6KWJTuLuKFoWI6e8hxZu3V07WHp3Njpr3AjRj4yDKQl-Puvib23jqAyW1EguogdJuUbLpe-_darlIzc/s1600/DSC_0457.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'm trying to worry less about where this road will take me, and just enjoy the ride. The future, my future, will sort itself out when the time is right.<br />
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I still miss the early days with my beautiful, sweet babies, but i wouldn't go back... not really. They have grown into such interesting, complicated, fabulous, kind, smart people. It was such a great journey getting to this point. I am so grateful for all of it. Don't get me wrong, it's not all sweetness and light at my house all the time (as I'm sure my kids could tell you), but it's real and it's ours, and there is no place else I would rather be. Thank you, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=vYmQs8bs1cY" target="_blank">Kelly Corrigan</a>, for the beautiful reminder.</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Denise</i></b></span><br />
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-10070416165501707872014-03-03T17:05:00.000-05:002014-03-04T20:15:15.118-05:00Don't Forget to Breathe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So... it's been a week since my last blog post.</div>
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I started to feel overwhelmed thinking that some of my ideas for posts might not make for good reading. And then I froze. Talked myself right out of writing for an entire week. I do that sometimes. Make something small into something huge in my mind. It grows and grows, and then I forget to breathe.</div>
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"Don't forget to breathe" is a phrase I'm very familiar with these days. I hear it over and over while working out with Vinny, my amazing and ever-patient trainer. He met me a year and half ago when I began working out for the first time in my entire life at age 46. Apparently, when a particular exercise gets too difficult for me, I hold my breath. Still. So a constant refrain of "don't forget to breathe" follows me around the gym (more on my fitness and health odyssey very soon. There will be a few good laughs in that story).<span id="goog_894504555"></span><span id="goog_894504556"></span></div>
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If only I had a "life trainer" reminding me to breathe when things get tricky in real life.<br />
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And then today, I just decided that whether or not what I write is stellar, it is still more than I was writing three weeks ago. And the hilarious part of all this worry is that hardly anyone in the world even knows this blog exists. I think five people (one being my niece) have seen it so far. But those of you that have seen it, have been so kind and complimentary, and I didn't want to let you down. If we're going to have this relationship, you may as well know that I worry far too much about what other people think. I'm working on it. My goal was to break myself of this habit by the time I turned forty. My new goal is fifty. We'll see how that goes.</div>
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So for today, I just really needed to get this off my chest. For today, this is enough.</div>
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Lots more posts brewing on the topics of decluttering, overindulged versus spoiled children (and I think there's a big difference), mean girls of the teen and grown-up varieties, my amazing book club women, my favorite place on earth (hint: bottom left hand corner of my banner), my absolute love of NPR and specifically Ira Glass, and solo travel (a gift everyone should give themselves at least once in a while).</div>
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So while I figure out the best time to get all of those thoughts in print, I'm going to try to not be so hard on myself.</div>
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And if your day isn't turning out exactly as planned, or the kids are sick, or it's snowing (again) where you live, or you're just second-guessing yourself, just remember -- don't forget to breathe.</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Denise</i></span></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-24777981204512142042014-02-24T07:00:00.000-05:002014-03-04T20:15:03.619-05:00What Love Looks Like<br />
I am married to a great guy. He is so many wonderful things, but if I listed them here and he ever saw it, he'd be mortified. He is a humble guy, and a man of few words. I can tell you what he is not, however. He is not a gusher.<br />
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He does not profess his love at every turn, he is not full of compliments and he most likely won't notice if I'm wearing something new. When I ask him how I look (usually only if we're headed out somewhere nice), his answer is almost inevitably "fine". Oh, and don't let me forget to mention this...he HATES Valentine's Day and refuses to celebrate it.<br />
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For years I secretly (OK, not too secretly -- sometimes quite vocally) wished for the "romantic comedy" type of husband. You know, the guy who always says and does the most romantic things. And then I started paying closer attention.<br />
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Mike does profess his love and care for me and our family...and he does it often. His way is more subtle and quiet -- just like him. Here's what love looks like...<br />
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Grilled Asparagus Pizza with Sun-dried Tomatoes, Caramelized Onions and Fontina - A huge favorite at our house</div>
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Seared Scallops wrapped in Bacon with Fresh Sage and Golden Delicious Apples</div>
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A Snack Cake Birthday Creation he made for Cole's Sixteenth Birthday Guys Weekend</div>
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Our Gorgeous Thanksgiving Turkey cooked on the Weber grill every year</div>
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Lobster Risotto</div>
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Ice Crean Sandwiches with Chocolate Chip Cookies, Bananas, Toffee, Hot Fudge and Vanilla Icecream</div>
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Homemade Bellinis starting from Fresh Peaches</div>
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"Mike's Potatoes" - Delicious Potatoes cooked with tremendous amounts of butter, garlic, Swiss cheese and love</div>
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So there it is, folks. One man's quiet way of showing everyone around him how much he loves them. He takes what little free time he has (and he truly has very little), and he creates beautiful meals for us. These meals give us the moments together that grow into some of our favorite family memories and stories. That kind of love can't fit on a Valentine. <3<br />
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Disclaimer: These photos were snapped with my phone, and long before I knew they'd show up in a blog post. Next time I'll pull out the good camera to do Mike's meals justice. A food stylist I'm not. But boy, were these things delicious!<br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Denise</i></span></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com1North America54.5259614 -105.25511870000003-18.8897046 89.510506299999975 90 59.979256299999975tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-47199025474439101212014-02-21T11:43:00.000-05:002014-02-21T11:46:53.060-05:00Perspective is a Wonderful Thing<span style="font-family: inherit;">I thought I was having a tough few weeks. Turns out I was wrong. Here are the things that were happening:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cole was home sick with what we thought was the flu, but actually turned out to be mono. He has two AP classes this semester, and I hate to see him feeling so awful, and also missing school and having to scramble to catch up.</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Katie was going through sorority rush at college, and for a minute there, it didn't look like things were going to go her way. It was heart-wrenching. She is such an amazing girl, but fairly often, things just don't go the way they should, and Katie ends up with the short end of the stick. It's not fair or right, but it happens, and as a mom, it's terrible not to be able to fix it (everything DID work out perfectly in the end).</span></li>
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<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Abbey's weather anxiety kicked in big time yesterday (more on that in the coming weeks). The weather has gotten a bit warmer, which is causing some freaky thunderstorms. She's on a field trip today, so dealing with her worries last night was challenging to say the least.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">These things, and some other disappointments and aggravations were all weighing on my mind and heart and, if you had asked, I would have said it wasn't a great week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I read Facebook this morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There on my news feed was a post from a woman I recognize from town (and from other friends' Facebook pictures) but don't know personally. I will call her Jane. Because my friends commented on her post, I was able to see it. It said:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17.940000534057617px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Game On! First Chemo starting now!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.940000534057617px;">Below that one line was a smiling picture of this strong and brave woman receiving her first treatment. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.940000534057617px;"> I was blown away by her amazing courage and her beautiful smile at the beginning of a journey that must be so daunting and terrifying. I was struck by the sudden urge to know her, so that I too could write words of support and encouragement below her picture, and find ways, however small, to lend my help and support to her and her family. In an instant, Jane put my "bad" week into perspective. All I could think about was Jane and her family, and the struggles they had ahead of them. And there she was, facing all of that with a smile on her face.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.940000534057617px;">I'm not saying that the things happening here at our house weren't real or worthy of some genuine mom stress and worry, but they were little things; little bumps in wonderfully full, rich lives filled with good health and lots of love. And don't get me wrong, as a family, we have weathered some really big, horrible bumps too. But not now, thankfully, and certainly not this week. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the quiet moments today and in the coming days, I will think of Jane and send her prayers and good thoughts for a quick and full recovery, and I will remind myself, often, to be grateful for this week.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Denise</i></span></div>
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-83143995543733385172014-02-18T10:51:00.000-05:002014-03-04T20:24:22.543-05:00Puppy Pangs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">It's been ten months since we lost our beautiful Cooper to cancer. It was an awful, devastating loss in an already horrible year, and none of us are really over it, or probably ever will be. We miss Cooper constantly, and everyday, something happens to bring him to mind. Cooper was our first dog, and Mike's very best friend. He was a bit neurotic and needy (sort of like me) but also loving, protective and loyal to a fault.</span></div>
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Cooper and Abbey were both so small back then</div>
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After two years on his own, we gave Cooper a brother. Having two golden retrievers and three children was probably a bit crazy (not the three children part!). I spent many of the early days wondering what I was thinking. I said then, and I still believe it today, that having and caring for babies is FAR easier than caring for puppies. But two dogs together are really the sweetest thing ever. Cooper, grudgingly at first, made room in his life for Mason, and the two were inseparable.</div>
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Mason's first day at home</div>
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Are you really going to let him drink from my dish?</div>
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This is my favorite picture of the boys</div>
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Helping Mason adjust to life on his own these past 10 months has been hard. In the beginning, it was heartbreaking. If you mentioned Cooper's name, Mason's head would shoot up and he'd look all around for his friend. We have all tried to fill the empty place left by Cooper with more walks, more playing, more snuggles. But it's time. Time to start. Time for Mason to shine as the big brother. Time to turn the house upside down again with a crate, puppy training, chewed shoes. </div>
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I will regret this decision for a minute when spring or summer rains leave our backyard a swampy mess and this is what I have to deal with...</div>
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but it will be worth it all when I think of these times.</div>
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No puppy will ever replace Cooper, but he will be a beautiful reminder of the gorgeous boy who started us on this incredible journey.</div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Denise</i></span></div>
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Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8960174425221419858.post-24358653340601018912014-02-15T11:50:00.000-05:002014-03-04T20:12:36.050-05:00 Here Goes...Explaining The Road From OctoberI've been meaning to start this blog for a long time now. In fact, I did start one in September of 2012, when my oldest, Katie, left for college, but it just wasn't the right time. So I set a new goal -- October 2013. Yes, I do realize today is February 15, 2014. So you've learned something about me already. I am filled with good intentions, big plans and lofty goals. Sometimes I hit them, sometimes I don't. Let me explain...<br />
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In our house, the "rule" is that all college applications must be completed and submitted by October 1st of your senior year. I didn't come up with this on my own. Someone very wise gave me this advice. If I could remember who it was, I would give them complete credit here and now, but my 47 year old brain cannot recall this important detail. This "rule" turned out to be the best rule I ever made. In 2011, when Katie was applying to schools, she was a procrastinator. We have an amazing relationship, but it was put to the test by the college application process. By insisting that all applications be done by October 1st, we knew that the stress (and bickering) that we both felt would all be behind us, and she could get on with the fun parts of her senior year. It worked beautifully and I'd highly recommend it.<br />
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This is where all of Katie's hard work led her</div>
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Enter child number two. This fall it was Cole's turn to submit his college applications. We implemented the same rule, for all of the same reasons, and it worked like a charm once again. Cole actually finished all of his applications on September 28th (just to beat his sister, I'm sure). At the same time, I set a secret deadline of October 1st for myself too. I had been struggling with the feeling that I was less needed than ever, and wondering where my path would lead me next. I decided that it was time to restart (or really, start) my blog. I've been writing for years, but only for myself. I've gathered a collection of essays that have been for my eyes only.<br />
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I didn't make my October 1st goal, for many reasons, but I did start...today. The Road From October symbolizes my path forward now that two of my babies are firmly headed down their own fabulous paths. I do know I'm still needed more than ever by all of them (Abbey is 13 and we have lots of busy years still ahead of us), but I'm needed in different ways, and there is room now for me to also explore additional avenues for my time and talents. Being brave enough to take those steps is harder than I thought. But I will take the first step today by hitting publish. Nothing looks pretty or organized or professional yet. It is bare bones. I will figure it out as I go along. If I felt the whole blog had to look perfect on day one, it would be next October before a single word was written.<br />
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The best work of my life</div>
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Thank you to the blogs and bloggers that inspired me to do this. They are a very diverse group and I gain something different from reading each one. They each touch a different part of me, and I always look forward to their posts. I will talk more about each of them in a future post. If I can figure out how to link them here, I will:<br />
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<a href="http://memoriesoncloverlane.com/">Clover Lane</a>, <a href="http://www.sowonderfulsomarvelous.com/">So Wonderful, So Marvelous</a>, <a href="http://www.viewsfrommykitchensink.blogspot.com/">views from my kitchen sink</a>, <a href="http://www.71toes.com/">71 Toes</a>, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-belkin/">Lisa Belkin</a>, <a href="http://www.closetcooking.com/">Closet Cooking</a><br />
Wow! I did it!<br />
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Thanks for reading. See you soon.<br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Denise</i></span><br />
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<br />Denisehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17361133234032864767noreply@blogger.com5