Unfettered Spring

This morning I felt the rain come drizzling down while simultaneously, a robin chirped for my attention. 

 I carried an umbrella but did not put it up due to the spontaneous whisps of warm air that lifted my misty hair. 

It was as if the weather were competing for my attention.

Spring seems to be an unfettered array of sights, scents, sounds, and temperatures that have lay in wait so long through the winter they can not help their jealous cry for attention.

Going Green

  Perhaps it's been a while since I've shared a story about my inventive, caring...walking a bit on the wild side, 6 year-old daughter, Evie. 

  This girl makes me laugh and typically melts my heart when she isn't making me gasp or brush the cold trickle of sweat away before it runs all the way down my neck as soon as she opens her mouth.  I've heard her described as "a favorite!"  I've been told she has no filter.  I've also received a note home from her teacher, informing me of the method she allows in the classroom for Evie to stand up and work when she just needs to dance and wiggle.  I LOVE Mrs. Green and her approach! 

    In this blog post I want to honor my daughter's free spirit and delight in her exceptionally creative mind with these 2 brief Highlights:

Millie

No pinches!

Last Friday was St. Patrick's Day and I was in a rush to get to school.  All the kids except Evie had left the house.  I was trying to prod her into slinging on her back pack when she voiced her concern.  "But Mom, Millie isn't wearing any green!  What if she gets pinched?"   I looked over at our 3 year-old
chocolate lab and mused about the tradition of getting pinched if you don't wear green on St. Patty's Day.  "Well, hon, if you look close enough you can see green specks in her eyes."  It was a lame attempt I know, but I was in a hurry.  I grabbed my backpack and hers and turned around to see her holding on to Millie.  "C'mon Evie," I called to her, "she'll be alright."  She hurried out the door while explaining, "Millie will be alright cuz I tucked a big green leaf in her collar, now no one will pinch her!"  Now why didn't I think of that?

I really don't need to be wordy for this next pictured moment...

I'll just tell you I was laying in Evie's bed while tucking her in on St. Patrick's Day night and looked over to see this about 3 feet from my face...


This girl takes her holidays seriously.  If you look closely you can see the sparkle of glitter lip gloss...much to my husbands horror and my hilarity.  The "lucky" deer mount was just sitting in the closet across the hallway.  I guess Evie decided to rescue it and make it more festive.  And that little white "dot" on the sparkly hat- that's a cut-out heart, made with love by Evie.

  There is brilliance and fantastic imagination that runs rampant in my little girl's mind.  I will love and celebrate her unique approach to life and thank God for gifting me with reminders to think outside the status quo and find joy in ideas I wouldn't have thought of on my own.
 

Happy First Day of Spring!

They were pleasant spring days, in which the winter of man's discontent was thawing as well as the earth, and the life that had lain torpid began to stretch itself.
                               ~Henry David Thoreau

Lessons Learned from Live Tweeting

  Last night I chose to undertake a school assignment I'd been putting off due to feeling intimidated: Live Tweeting.  Others may call this Live Blogging.  Either way- it was an interesting night- on many levels.  I could have chosen an on-campus event but decided to accompany my husband, a Code Enforcement Officer for the City of Erie, to a Neighborhood Revitalization meeting.

  This project opened my eyes up to:

 a) How difficult Live Tweeting can be- my Professor has likened it to "Drinking from a fire hose."  Live Tweeting is using the social media platform Twitter, which allows posts of 140 characters or less, to share an event in real time.   At times the information is coming fast and furious- and we get docked for misspelled words...but even worse is misinformation!  I appreciate his concern for good, accurate news.

b) The topic of the evening- Saving a section of our town that has fallen into blight.  This area of Buffalo Road is one I've traveled for most of my life.  I went to grade school a few miles up the road, not too far from the distressed neighborhood.  I often drive through it to visit my family and  

friends who live further east in Harborcreek.  Over the years it's disrepair has become increasingly evident.  It was a bit surreal to not just drive by, but rather pull into the community center and spend time with those who live and work in this area.  We are all part of the Erie Community- even though it can feel like we live in different worlds.

c) The discussion of getting neighbors involved and creating a communal vision.  The concerns and fears discussed in the room were valid- no one wants bullets entering their home and yet, the hope that was stirred in the room by a concerned group gathered to do more than just complain was inspirational.                

d) The sincere compassion of the hosts/presenters committed to helping this neighborhood come together to affect change was positively moving.  The meeting was far from boring because of the dynamic presentation of issues and clear guidance on taking the baby steps needed before running with the project could ensue.

e) The interaction of my husband, Steve, with these citizens, who rely on his hard work to help clean up their neighborhood, was eye-opening.  I witnessed the frustration he experiences in trying to help improve this neighborhood's quality of life face off with limitations that impede that goal.  The inability to locate abandoned property owners, absentee landlords, and untended vacant lots were just a few of the hot topics.  Steve's grace under pressure of heated questioning had me feeling so proud of his commitment, knowledge, and authentic desire to make a difference  That willingness to work WITH the community won their respect.  The bridge to team-work was strengthened when he offered his direct line in response to the question who they could send their complaints to.

f) Finally, the sobering realization that when the meeting was done and my computer tucked away it was time to say goodnight to the teens and elderly that were sweeping the community center and putting chairs away.  I was heading home where my children safely waited for me.  These meeting participants were heading to their homes that still held levels of uncertain danger.  My evening was about "covering an event" theirs was about changing their environment.  Change takes time...and involved people.  It is not an overnight process.

This morning I woke with the meeting heavy on my heart.  I pondered this list until I just had to write it out...for you.  Perhaps together we can spread the word and lend a hand to help a community- wherever you live.  Because I guarantee that even if you live in a beautiful, safe, clean, and caring environment- not too far from you are people- yes, human beings, your neighbors who live a different reality.  If the situation were reversed what would you hope they would do?

I'm going to share my assignment here if  you'd like to learn about the meeting or even see the end result of using Twitter (a social media platform that allows you to post using 140 or less characters) than sharing to Storify (a platform that can create a story out of a series of your sequential "Tweets."

Live Tweeting Assignment

 

Weathering The Weather

  Snow is back.  No big surprise here- at least it shouldn't be.  However, with 70 degree balmy air last week, this week's dip below freezing would be able to catch any Erie non-native off guard.  Having lived here a majority of my 45 years I've come to expect the unexpected in local weather trends.  In the Spring, it's a given that all bets are off.  Yes, trees will be budding and flowers do brave the unknown to push up through the frosty thawed earth to see what's going on.  Even they know better than to be shocked at the arctic welcome their trembling new greenery receives. 

  I believe our weather here in Erie, PA has shaped our community into a people that are able to weather the storms of life as well as the changing skies and air currents.  We tend to be a hearty group that faces what life has to offer and continues to push up through the hardened soil of tough times in the hope that springs eternal or the eternal hope of Spring.  If you've lived here your whole life or even made it through the fluctuating cycle of one season in our beloved town- you would understand why so many choose to stay.  It is not for this time of year- though our winters are particularly breathtaking in their stark, ice-covered wonderland appeal.  However, it is precisely this blast of daunting ice that sifts the weak from our lake's shores.  For those who batten down the hatches and keep their focus fixed on what is to come- the allure lies just under the frost in the beauty that waits to unfurl it's grandeur.  Yes, for these robust souls who've loyally bundled up and tethered themselves to our blustery hitching post- the reward lies in the unparalleled beauty of spring, summer, and fall in our fair northeastern town. 

  A word of encouragement to all you strong of heart and frosty of fingertip- Hold tight (in warm mittens) against these raging bitter gusts that tug at your resolve to endure.  Know in the depths of your heart that the finest greenery has been reserved for you.  The fragrant soil awaits the proper beckon of perfect timing when, called forth, it's scent shall fill your senses with gladness and reward your steadfast determination.  Our waters that appear frozen with ill intent shall thaw and come lapping at our shores with repentant calm to bring you solace and sounds of peace.  There will be the victory dance of sun risen colors that light the rooftop of every Erie citizen that has weathered this winter with courageous willpower.  Yes, dear community that I have come to bond with in the sopping entryways of shopping centers, ice-rink worthy parking lots, and warm mecca of movie theaters visited to break the monotony of cabin fevered chaos,  I salute you with a steam-breathed  "Almost there!," uttered through frozen lips and squinted, watery eyes.  I wish you warmth in the final affront of winter as we all set our face toward those days that make these wintry skirmishes worthwhile.

Giving Up for Lent

 Lent began last Wednesday.  My Spring Break began this past Monday (though technically it began after my very last class on Friday). 

  I watched as many students in class raised their hand in response to the teacher asking how many are going somewhere warm for break.  I admit- though I quickly pondered the thought of sunny beaches, I really wasn't all that jealous.  I relish the thought of making progress on a few house projects.

 One of my Lenten callings during spring break was to get to daily Mass during the week.  The challenge being that my two youngest weren't feeling that same calling and Mass began before they catch the bus.  In order for me to be able attend they'd have to go with me.

  For the record, I am not one who's above bribing and this presented the perfect opportunity to try out the term "positive reinforcement" that has been a hot topic in my Psych 101 course.  Also for the record- donuts work like a charm.

  On the drive to our first morning Mass of the week, my young daughter and son were very receptive to talking about the whole concept of Lenten sacrifice.  We discussed how getting up a little earlier to be on time for Mass was a great thing to offer up.  It was at this point in the conversation as they were tossing ideas of offering up treats and privileges that my daughter said, "Well, I've already given up talking back to you, Mom."  To which I responded to my feisty first grader, "That's a very good thing for you to give up, Evie."  She was not done with the discussion until she blurted out, "I'm giving up being perfect!," in the most sincere tone.  I couldn't help but let out a laugh and tell her that is actually a very good idea.

  Evie made it through half the Mass before the wiggles began to get the best of her.  Barely able to contain herself she asked in a not-so-subtle hoarse whisper, "Is it time to go yet,?"  "No," I quietly returned with an added, "Shhhh," to keep her tone down because we were sitting directly behind three elderly, female, church-going regulars.  "But we're going to be late for school!" she whined.  I vehemently shook my head back and forth and pantomimed my finger to my lips hoping to silence her.  This did not get the desired effect as she insisted, "Time to go!"  I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Hey, you gave this up for lent," to remind her of her intent to not talk back to me.  She was quick to reply in her not even close to quiet whisper, "No I didn't- I gave up being perfect."  I didn't count but I'm fairly certain all three sets of shoulders and sets of coiffed hair in front of us trembled slightly in an effort to either keep from sighing or hold in their laughter.  I chose to believe the latter.

  Over this past week I've also come to believe my daughter's proclamation to forgo perfection as sage advice to me.  For sure, this past week's Masses have been a real call for me to let go of any notion of being perfect and just hang on to the fact that we made it to church at all...let alone mostly on time after helping the older four with earlier school schedules catch their bus on time.  The three elderly ladies who were privy to this "whispered" conversation...normally would have been cause for perspiration to bead on my scrunched brow out of a need to keep my children behaved.  This week I let go of exceedingly high expectations and worry of others judgment and was grateful that we had this opportunity to be...simply that...just be in the presence of a God who understands because He made us and even said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." (Mathew 19:14). 

  I didn't get many house projects done this week- but that's ok, perfection is overrated anyway.  What a great Spring Break reminder. 


 

Gone Fishing

  The dawning of a new age.  The passing of a torch.  These are two of the phrases that describe what I witnessed this morning although I wouldn't say it was a sudden, quick toss of the torch. More like a slow, at times tedious, passing that took years and years to prepare when suddenly you look and the torch is already moving away into the distance and you just don't remember handing it off.

  In this case- the one who poured blood, sweat, and tears wasn't even there to see the fruit of his labor head off in the early morning light.  Instead, I was there to witness the miraculous coming of age that arrived when I dropped my son off at his very first fishing tournament in the cold, early morning hours at Presque Isle.  I was

trying to give my husband, Steve, a few extra minutes to sleep in before rousing the troops for Sunday Mass.  He was the one who had taken trucks, then mini-van's full of children to the many creeks, ponds, lakes, and streams over the years.  His patient fingers had fixed hundreds of worms onto hooks and cast countless lines over calm waters through various seasons of our life.  Yet, here I was, bleary eyed and tousle haired throwing my coat over my jammies to comply with the "Hurry Mom, we're running out of time!," excited plea of my 16 year-old son, Stevie.

  Stevie was born to do this.  He's a natural.  I kid you not, more than one of his science teachers have told us they turned class time over to him to allow him to share his knowledge of habitats or feeding patterns, etc.  He doesn't need a lot of people around him, just nature and the freedom to fish and hunt.  In this case, it was a pan fishing tournament and the only path to his freedom was a car ride from Mom or Dad.  This particular competition was a partner event.  My husband is on the mend from a nasty virus and couldn't go nor could the few buddies Stevie had called.  If there's one thing that's certain about my son, it's his determination.  I've heard his friends call his passion for fishing "dedication" which I found a very nice term for what I consider obsession.  Either way, I was happy to support his love for this fresh-water sport even if I wasn't feeling elated to be up at what felt like the crack of dawn.

  We drove in silence watching our breath puff out like vapor in the 32 degree weather.  I glanced over at his single layer of sweatpants and wondered for the hundredth time if Stevie was capable of feeling cold or if he truly possessed a superhuman quality of being able to withstand extreme weather.  When we reached the marina parking lot I swiftly veered to the right, surprised by the large group of guys lined up to sign in.  I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't this.  I glanced sideways to gage my son's reaction and wasn't rewarded with much other than a tightening of the jaw.  He hopped out of the truck and ran around back to get his gear while I hastily pulled my unbrushed mane into a sloppy pony tail.  As he headed toward the line I rolled my window down and this is when my true reward came...the bit back smile and the flash of adrenaline in his eyes as he leaned his camo-capped head toward me- allowing me to kiss his cheek.  My boy has had the same signature smile- a shy grin he tries to bite back to hide his excitement for as long as I can remember.  I quickly said good luck and watched my son hurry to the line, buckets, poles, and bait in hand- determined to enter his first fishing tournament out of what I'm sure will be many.  And just like that, it happened.  He became his own man, without worry that he didn't have a partner.  He wasn't

concerned with the cold, stares from strangers, intimidating sign up lines- nope, he hopped out of our truck and hurried on his way- knowing he was doing what he was born to do.

  Later that morning, worn out from rising early and the rush of getting the family ready for Mass and teaching religious education to an energetic group of fourth graders, I allowed myself the luxury of an afternoon nap.  The phone rang and I heard my husband answer.  It was Stevie.  This time I was gifted the few extra minutes of sleep while my husband headed down to the Peninsula to gather our son.  He was back within half an hour.  I groggily asked how Stevie did and he simply said, "I'll let him tell you."  I didn't have to wait long after closing my eyes again.  I felt my son poking my shoulder and looked up into his smiling eyes.
 
  Though he didn't win first place team event, he did bring home the prize for the largest fish.

  I've already been told the next tournament is a mere two weeks away.  I think it's safe to say Stevie is hooked! 

Tooth From Down Under

  In my family, trips to the dentist typically happen in groups of two kids.  I generally sign them both in and spend the appointment hour running the hall between two rooms.  I pen my initials next to "No Change" and settle one child in the electric exam chair so the dental hygienist can start the cleaning.  Then I find the other child and together, we giggle at the same cardboard tooth poster that's hung on the wall for the last decade until their assigned hygienist needs my initials etc. 

  The last visit went just like this until the tech said, "we have a problem."  I actually nodded my head and laughed thinking she was pulling my leg.  I've never heard those words spoken of my 12 year-old son, Sam.  Fortunately for him, he'd inherited very strong, straight teeth.  But, it was her latex-gloved finger pointing to the panoramic x-ray that brought levity to the situation.  Quickly, she explained that Sam's lower left canine tooth had tilted completely on it's side til it was horizontal and then migrated all the way under his lower front teeth, until it was preventing the right canine tooth from coming up. 

  I was stunned.  We had been waiting for the right canine gap to fill in ever since he'd lost his baby

tooth years ago.  It wasn't long before the Dentist came in the room and exclaimed, "Wow!  That's one for the books!  His tooth has gone on a walk-about!".  I still giggle thinking of that line- good one Doc!

  Well that tooth and my son continued their walk-about from the dentist to the orthodontist and up the road to the oral surgeon.  This was to be a pretty involved procedure that would require the removal be done in a surgery center with anesthesia.  The danger was in the proximity to facial nerves.  There was risk of permanent numbness, tingling, and paralysis.  Yet to leave it in posed a threat as well.  We were told because of the tooth's position laying sideways under the other teeth, that if Sam were to take an elbow to the chin while playing a sport, his jaw could break.  We needed that tooth to be outta there. 

  What started as a trip to the dentist for a cleaning turned into a surgical procedure that ended up successful and safe.   Our son did great, anesthesia and all.  He definitely was loopy--our personal favorite moment was when he was just waking up post surgery.  Clearly out of it, he asked if it was over and we answered yes, stroked his hair, and told him he was fine.  Then, in a completely unexpected turn of emotion he whispered, "I'm gonna miss that tooth," and promptly burst into tears.  I laughed then cried right along my son.  At least he had a chemical reason to be emotional.  I had no excuse except I love my son and when he hurts, I hurt. 

  All's well that ends well.  Sam gained a fuzzy, stuffed ducky he named "Quackers," and all the ice cream, Popsicles, pudding, jello, and soft drinks he could ingest.  His smile was huge as we checked our sweet bounty out at the grocery store...but his poor swollen chin was so sore he could not enjoy the treats we rarely buy.  He's much better these days and we regularly check the right canine "gap" to ensure that poor tooth has indeed been set free.  If not, it's back to the orthodontist to help it along on it's very own walk-about.

Curiosity

  I googled the word Creative...just because I was curious.  I think the very nature of curiosity is creative...if you take the time to research what you are musing about.

  If you wonder about something...look it up, ask someone, put it out there.  Questions posed have a way of enriching us.

   One of the synonyms that drew my attention was originative.  I can honestly say I didn't even know that was a word. 

  See?  With curiosity comes knowledge...and fun new words.

  What are you curious about?