Writing Class Assignment

Writing class Prompt:

What is the scariest thing that’s ever happened to you?

Does it still frighten you?

Does is still impact your life in any way?

“BREATHE IAN, BREATHE!!” 

I’ll never, ever forget hearing those words. 

I had just given birth to my first child, my son Ian. We were living then in Christchurch, New Zealand. My husband had taken a consulting job there while I was 6 months pregnant. Sure, I had wanted very much to go there and had visions of vacations in nearby Fiji and Australia. It sounded wonderful, and we had moved everything into a storage facility, said goodbye to our beachfront apartment in Oxnard, California, and said, “Ta” to our new Kiwi neighbors.

“C’MON IAN! BREATHE!” our mid-wife Cyndy yelled once again. What was going on??? I was terrified. I knew something was wrong with my baby. The frightened look on my husband’s face said it all. He looked pale and about to pass out. My legs still up in stirrups, the room was completely calm except for the frantic urging of our midwife begging our new baby to breathe. 

Unbeknowst to me, the umbilical cord was wrapped around my baby’s neck. He wasn’t breathing when he was born.  My husband had timidly taken the sharp instrument from our doctor to cut the cord, and looked up at me proudly. It was a moment he knew he’d always remember, no matter what. The cutting symbolically made him a dad. 

Cradling our baby, our doctor scurried to the exam table with him and from where I was laying in the hospital bed, I couldn’t see my baby. All I could hear was her pleas for him to breathe. And just like a movie, it seemed that time was moving slow as molasses. What was going on??? And OH MY GOD IS MY BABY DEAD???

And then, oh man, did he let out a cry. Like he’d been holding it in for 9 months. Nine months and 21 days by the way. He wasn’t planning on ever coming out on his own. I’d had to be induced. And just like the teenager he’s grown up to be, he’s absolutely terrible to get up in the mornings for school. 

He’s a freshman in college now, and every now and then, my husband or I will reference that fateful day, and we know that we will never forget hearing those horrific words that day. And we thank God every day that there was something that moment he definitely had to cry about.

Moving Day

A few hours ago I gave my power-lifter son a great big hug, told him I loved him through burgeoning tears, and left him standing in his new dorm room with his new roommate. I made his little sister take our picture, and then it was Dad's turn for a hug and a pic, then little sister wanted one too. Ian obliged, uncomfortable and slightly annoyed, but I can see his dimpled smile in every single picture we took.

A few hours before this moment, we were at home, loading up our car with about eight Office Max boxes filled with all his clothes, textbooks and school supplies, toiletries, snacks, his electric guitar and amp (small one), his dart board, a small refrigerator, a cork board, a fold-up table, new sheets and pillow cases, new towels and throw pillows, and much more. He said goodbye to our pets--three cats and a dog, telling each he would miss them and gave them a pat on the head.

The hour prior to that he went to see his girlfriend of two years and say goodbye. I can only imagine how that went. She has another year of high school, and I think she probably has cried more than I have. Poor thing.

The day before, my husband and I ran around with his college dorm checklist, marking off much-needed supplies like a mini-tool kit, first aid kit, a fan, lightbulbs, snacks, area-rug, utensils, etc. He came home and showed us what he got--a disco ball and strobe light. Someone's focusing on fun. I laughed so hard. 

The night before he spent with her doing fun things; they went to eat, went bowling, and came back here and watched TV, their favorite show "Fringe". Except for the fact that we knew he was going to be leaving for college in less than 24 hours, it was an uneventful day like so many summer days we've had. The night before that, it was his "last dinner at home" (I made my "famous" orange chicken: it takes 3 hours to cook and 10 minutes to devour); his "last lunch at home", that sort of countdown that was shadowed by sadness.

We've known this day was coming for like, oh, the last 18 years?! From the moment you know you are pregnant, everyone talks about "saving for college" and honestly, until it is right upon you, it as as abstract as the actual baby you will be holding after it's born. You can't really imagine it; you think you can, but you know that you really can't prepare for it. You know that when it happens, you will be okay though. There are books, there are classes, but there's nothing that REALLY prepares you for parenthood OR sending your ex-baby who's now taller than you and weighs more than you to college.

I kept hearing from the parents of adult kids all summer, "By the time it's time for him to go, you will be SO ready for him to go." I started to understand what these people meant. All summer it was his job, his girlfriend, and the gym. It was like a ferris wheel that never stopped. Coming home past 1:00 am; and the considerate texts that let me know he was "on his way" home still worried me and kept me awake. Sooner or later, fall had to arrive, and summer had to end. There's so much more for him out there in this big world than a minimum-wage job and hanging out with his friends. 

Between graduating middle school Valedictorian, having taken college classes since age 16, graduating high school this past June with high honors (GPA 3.7) and all his AP classes/tests and outstanding ACT score, this kid is destined for so much more. He could've gotten into just about any college he chose; and he chose UW-Madison. He easily got in.

When the tears come, I remember the alternative: a teenager with no ambition who won't hold a job and smokes pot all day. That's where my mind goes. I am SO relieved he turned out so well. I'd like to pat myself and my husband on the proverbial back, but honestly? Ian gets all the credit. HE'S the one who worked his ass off to get where he is. I didn't do it! His dad didn't do it! HE did. He cared enough to succeed.

It's our job as parents to give our kids a great start. I hope that Ian always knows just how very loved he is; that no matter what, we are always here for him. Kids worry so much about "measuring up" and "avoiding failure", but the truth is, a good parent really doesn't have many pre-conceived notions about whom he should become. The only thing that we really worry about is drinking and drugs. I don't care what he major is. I don't care if he drops pre-med and goes into engineering. I don't have a pre-conceived idea of who my son should be. All we want it for him to live up to his POTENTIAL. A kid who's doing Calc 3 at age 16 is destined for more than a minimum wage job is my point. I don't need him to be a doctor for me, so that I can brag about him. I'm already bragging about him, because of his CHARACTER. He is the most honest kid I've ever known (next to his baby sister), and seeing him with girlfriend, he is the most loving, honest and attentive boyfriend a girl could ask for. He's a one-woman man, and is devoted to her.

As he enters his college days, of course we hope that he will open his mind to the possibility of having other relationships. As a middle-aged person, I have insight into what a 20-year marriage is really like. From our own wedding back in 1993, we've realized that more than half of the couples there that day have divorced. I told him one day this summer, "How would you know she's THEE person for you to spend the rest of your life with if you've never dated anyone else?" Of course, there are those couples out there that have met in high school (or earlier) and have truly been perfect for one another. I tell him, "You don't want to end up at 40 with a mortgage and kids and look at her and wonder what else is out there?" College is the time to do that. Not at 40.

I look back at my own college days, and they were so vastly different from Ian's. I went to a commuter school; I didn't leave home till I was 22. I regret not having realized I could've moved out and gone somewhere else. My parents didn't encourage me; I didn't have the resources to know I could've reached higher. I'm certain that's why giving Ian all the choices and opportunities is so important to me. I want him to have what I didn't. Isn't that what every parent wants?

And I know that our youngest, who just started high school today, will have an even more emotional mom as she trots off to her new college life. The young women of her generation are absolutely the luckiest generation of women ever to exist. She is unaware of gender discrimination and something we called, "the glass ceiling". Women of her generation are growing up feeling not just equal to their male peers but somewhat superior to them. There are more females vs. males attending college than ever before, and women have society's approval to "have it all." No longer does anyone look down their noses at women who maintain careers and having children. In ten years, after my daughter's graduated college and possibly getting married and having kids, her generation will have probably not only figured out how to REALLY "have it all" but feel good about herself in the process. I pray for the day when women stop feeling guilty about themselves and their choices, and the media stops making women feel that a flat stomach is really the end-all and be-all of importance.

It's so easy to be envious of my children as they go off into the big, wide world. The world is such a different place now. I know, I know, every parent says that. And every generation that is true. When we went for our son's 2-day college registration and tour, I was more excited than he was! I was ready to blink myself back to age 18 and enroll. There is SO much I want to do now that I either didn't have the resources available to me to pursue them or the courage to try. Now I have both. I am considering going back for my master's, or trying something completely different. Just because I can.

I am so excited for Ian. He truly has the world at his fingertips. In his three years of high school here in Wisconsin, he has seen friends drop out of college and pursue music; he's had friends go off to other states for college, and he's had friends die in a car accident due to drinking. He's well-aware that it's up to him to decide if he even wants to have a future or not. And what kind of future that might be?

We discussed one night what it might really be like to become a doctor. He has expressed interest in being a cardiologist. He thought out loud about the extra years of school; interning, and getting established. He said, "If I want a marriage and kids, I can't really become a cardiologist because I'd never see them." I admire the way he's processing his choices clearly; knowing himself well and what kind of life he wants after college. 

Since we moved here, he has been around many kids with millionaire parents. We unwittingly moved to a very nice area where it's not unusual for his friends to jet off to Costa Rica, Punta Cana, and other exotic places "every spring break." We stay home and get extra sleep. 

Ian has worked the last two years at Qdoba, a yummy Mexican restaurant that is like a Subway but Mexican food. He's got a great work ethic--always on time, never called in sick, worked for others when they asked him. He knows that if he doesn't succeed in college, it will be Qdoba metaphorically for the rest of his life. He wants more for himself than a minimum-waged job, and with that kids' smarts, he can reach for higher. As parents, our job is to transfer that belief in our kid, to our kids believing in themselves. If they don't think they can do it, they won't try. It doesn't matter if we know they can do it; they need to believe that if they try, they can succeed. 

We remind him that who he hangs out with will determine which path he takes. And one thing I'm SO excited about is his college. At registration, they explained their emphasis on philanthropy. I have met some amazing students every single time we've been there. There is so much social support for the students; they go the extra effort to make sure they are paid attention to. It's not a matter of, "that's your kid, why should WE worry about them?" but rather, "While they're students here, we will parent them for you as much as possible." And I swear, they have. There is a student center if he gets sick. Everything's covered with the cost of tuition. There are student leaders in the dorms that we met yesterday that were friendly and attentive, and they continue to look out for our kid (and yours) every day. They were riding up and down in the elevators, seeing to it that our needs were met--that we knew where his room was and did we need any help carrying anything? The social support is tremendous. I felt like hugging every single red-T-shirted student leader I saw.

I'm so relieved Ian doesn't have his car. Freshmen aren't allowed cars. He lives in a dorm with another really great kid we got to meet (and his mom) and I'm sure they'll lean on each other as they both find their way. It made my heart bounce when Ian leaned into another dorm room on the way to his and said hello to another student he recognized from his high school! And guess what--this kid had a disco ball too! He and his roommate had everything all set up and it looked like they were having a blast. I SO wanted to be 18 again and do it all differently. I knew at that moment, Ian's going to be just fine.

We know kids always worry that no one will like them; that they'll have to eat lunch alone and that they're unlikeable. Of course we know our Ian won't have that problem, who wouldn't like him?? But that's something that even as grown-ups we worry about when we start a new job. Who will eat lunch with us? Will anybody like me? He told me he wasn't worried about academics. He knows he'll do well in his classes; it's "fitting in" he worries about. Of course we reassure him; it's just a matter of getting rid of us, the parents, and letting him find his way.

We giggle that he's never had to share a room with anyone. Now he's sleeping in a bunkbed that's more like a prison cot. I know he will miss so many things about home; and when he does make the trip home I will get to spoil him again. Being a good a parent means giving your kids the tools they need to succeed beyond your grasp. It is so hard letting go, but like I said earlier, it sure beats the alternative, a grown child still living at home past the teen years. We really need to let them find themselves out of our line of sight. There comes a time when we really don't need to know everything they think and do. 

I think that it starts when they're very young. You see these parents who are afraid to let their kids spend the night at friends' houses or try certain sports. They are overprotective and honestly, the message they're sending their kids is that the world is a scary place. They send messages to their kids that they can't trust themselves to make the right choices and overprotecting, in my opinion, just leads to kids feeling bad about themselves. It's so hard being a parent; keeping them safe and letting them explore their world at the same time.

No parent is perfect, and all our choices must come from love and honesty. When I stumble, and I do often, I'm the parent that says, "I'm sorry."  We can't pretend we know everything just because we're older and we've "been there." Our kids aren't us. The world they're living in is different than the world we grew up in and we have much to learn from them.

As my former 8-pound-13 ouncer goes out into the big, wide world, I cry tears of joy for eighteen and half years so far being his mom. He's made me a better person just by being himself. I cry for all the fun we had; for being there every single day for him, and I thank God he was born healthy and has made it this far given he's got an emotional nut for a mom. I cry tears of worry since I can't control things anymore, and all I can do is pray God keeps him safe and he makes good choices. I see my big, powerlifter son with his enormous biceps and piercing blue eyes, and just love him with all my heart. That's what I'm good at.

And so now our daughter is a stunning almost 14-year-old, and entering high school. I have four years of doting on her and preparing her for that moment when it will be HER packing for college. Helping her brother move into his dorm yesterday will leave an indelible mark on her psyche for when it will be her turn. She got to see that he will be all right; that he can be happy and sad at the same time. She got to see her parents cry and be happy for him, and see us let go and trust. I think she knows that we have communicated our belief in him by giving him the space and opportunity to find his passion and not dictate it for him. He's made all the right choices up to this point; we've just guided him and gave him the financial backing.

Ah, the empty nest. It's not empty yet, but his room is nearly empty, since he took most of it with him. It's painful to see, and I think I'll be avoiding the downstairs basement because of it. But he's only an hour away and I thank God that he chose a college so close. I can't even imagine if he had stayed with his original choice, UCLA. I'm so glad he's so close. Close enough if he needs me, and far enough away to find himself.

But you just know that there are more orange chicken dinners coming for those weekends he comes home with his stack of laundry. 

I can't wait!!!!

The Newsletter that caused my insanity is here!

Dear Readers,

Thank you for your requests that I publish it here. Hope you enjoy!

Love,

Lauren

                                                               *****************

                                                     Merry Christmas from the Kuckelman’s

As I sit down to write this holiday letter, I have to say, ‘I’m so proud of the four of us!”. This is our 2nd Christmas in Wisconsin. We picked up and moved 1800 miles away from family and friends to a “frozen tundra” where we knew not a single soul. So much has changed in one year.

Ian turned 16 in May and got his driver’s license in July! He is driving Tim’s old Honda Civic and he loves his independence.  Mom doesn’t have to drive him around anymore :(  He spent summer with his friends boating on the lake and working!  Ian got his first job! He’s a line-server at Q’doba, a Mexican fast food restaurant where he combines his love of money and available food. He spends his money on nutritional supplements, guitar strings and on his girlfriend. Ian became both a high school junior and a college freshman! He is enrolled at Carroll University taking Calculus 3 with mostly college sophomores and juniors. It’s his favorite class, and his “easiest”. Go figure. He’s still working out at the gym and has joined the weightlifting team at school. He had his first competition this week and placed 3rd overall out of 15 weightlifters in his division!! He can also bounce his pecs up and down and make us all laugh. Ian’s just a great kid and a complete joy to be around.

His little sister Jennifer is a 7th grader this year and turning into quite a lovely young lady. She is self-assured and happy, and is quite a social butterfly. She and her “posse” of girlfriends have sleepovers and make horrendous messes in the kitchen they call “baking”. They are an adorable group of friends and they are all so fun to be around. Jennifer is taking guitar as well. Three guitarists now in the family! She loves music and she has tried to teach me to “Dougie”  to the new Dubstep music trend. It’s not pretty. She’s attending school dances and loves her school. She likes how they all have lockers and the kids decorate them for each other’s birthdays. Jennifer still rides her beloved Poetry, who’s boarded about a mile away. She’s very much interested in fashion and design and she makes clothes by hand for her Barbies. Jennifer herself looks more beautiful than any model the way she tastefully wears her make-up and clothes, and all her friends let her do make-overs on them! She is a happy-go-lucky girl, a free-spirit and she is absolutely a joy to be around.

Tim has been Vice President of E-Commerce at Kohl’s now for one year, and we are so proud of him. We also love all the sales at Kohl’s and make sure we support him by shopping there as often as possible. He travels a lot to his warehouses during the week but we almost always have him home on weekends. Tim’s favorite things to do are making big breakfasts for the kids and their friends on Saturdays. We celebrated our 20th year since we met and our 18th wedding anniversary in April. We are still crazy about each other and love being home with the kids. For fun, we are in a band together--Tim rocks the guitar and sings, and I sing, and we love performing with our band, Rok Kandi. It’s something fun we get to do together; practicing and learning new songs. We also try to play tennis together on Sundays.

Like Ian, I got a job too! I started working in March as a part-time bartender at the gym we go to. It was my saving grace, as I finally started to make friends. I love my job as I get paid to talk to people. Perfect, huh?! I love weightlifting almost as much as Ian and I also started tennis lessons in summer. I have become addicted and play in a women’s league. I’ve been taking private vocal lessons for a year now, and my vocal coach has become a dear friend as well.  I’m also still the nutty animal girl who loves to feed the squirrels and chipmunks and cardinals. Tim calls their food “bait” for the cats.

We have adjusted to the weird weather here--summer is warm but not hot like Reedley was (much to Ian’s dismay) and there are a lot of thunderstorms. We like those. We all got to experience our very first blizzard in February and the kids got a snow day off from school--their very first! Wisconsin has become home for us now, especially since some very special family and friends have come to visit us--Randy, Inka and her twin daughters; and Tim’s mom Carolyn has come twice and she and Don are planning a trip soon. We love being near them and family in Kansas and have made the 10-hour drive twice.  It was great seeing everyone at Don’s 80th birthday party in August! Next--make a trip to Texas to see new grand-nephew baby Graham! With Ian driving now, Tim and I like to sit in the back seat. We have a beautiful guest room -we will spoil you rotten--just ask Inka- so please come see us!! We flew back to California last December to see my family and our friends. We miss so many dear friends and family in California and Kansas. We wish you all a happy healthy holiday season. We feel very blessed and are very grateful to have each and every one of you who is holding this newsletter in our lives.  

Love always and God bless, 

The Kuckelman’s

P.S. We are all on Facebook! If we are not already “friends” please add us so we can better keep in touch!

Back-to-School Equals Growing Pains for Mom

We Kuckelmans have just passed the one-year mark since we moved here to Wisconsin from California. We still have lots and lots of unpacked boxes, and my closet is an absolute mess: not having built-in-drawers like we did in our Reedley house. Being obsessed with the show "Hoarders", it doesn't slip by me that certain areas of my home are quite frightening. (Fortunately, just my closet and the basement).

It's the day after Labor Day, and the weather has shifted so drastically, and it's so different from California. My friends there tell me it's still sweltering hot, in the 100's, and yesterday we had a high of 67 and a low of 39! Jennifer turned the heater on today to get ready for school.  I took Odie our dog out this morning for the walk to the mailbox to get the newspaper, and fall is definitely here. The air is so dry and crisp, everything smells amazing, the birds have come out of hiding, and it just feels good.

It was time to put out the bowl of peanuts for the birds, chipmunks, and squirrels again, and it didn't take more than a few minutes for the beautiful male red cardinals to find the bowl. Sitting nearby was a  beautiful blue jay waiting for his turn. The hanging seed feeder is swinging back and forth with the little birds. Aw, fall is here. I breathe in as much as I can and exhale, feeling something changing in the air.

I took a moment to sit down on the front porch with our cat Sammy and take it all in. The sun coming in now at a slant, the dew on the grass, the chill in the air. It was just after 7 a.m.; I had just said goodbye to Ian, and realize how grown-up my son is now. This is the first year since he started kindergarten that I'm not driving him to school. I knew this day would come all last year, as he got his driver's license this spring. I knew I would be sad, and happy for him at the same time. This morning, I'm feeling more sad than happy. I miss our 10 minute morning drives--our little chats about whatever, giving him that last, "have a good day sweetie" and knowing he got to school safely. It's so hard letting go.

Ian is not only a junior in high school, he's a college freshman! He is attending a 4-year private university here called Carroll University where he's taking Calc 3. He passed Calc AB/BC with an A+ last year and also got a 5 on his Calc AP test so he qualified for this senior-level class! His high school is paying his tuition and books and my 16-year-old boy is sitting in a college class with mostly college seniors. He loves it and fits right in--he said no one has said anything about him being 4-6 years younger than everyone else.

Ian also has a job now! He's working for a sort of upscale fast food restaurant here called Qdoba and he loves it. He takes pride in working--being on time, making sure his uniform is clean, and doing a good job. He has come out of his shy shell and told me he loves when it's not busy so he can spend more time chatting with the customers! (and NOT just the pretty girls--I had to tease him). I stare at my body-builder son, all those muscles and so handsome, so independent now, leading such a busy grown-up life, and get wistful. The red and golden leaves falling from the trees reminds me of holding Ian's little hand, walking down the sidewalk, and alternately stepping on leaves to hear the crunch sound, and collecting the prettiest ones. Now they just blow aside as he careens his car down the driveway and out to his  new world where I'm not included. Did I mention he has a girlfriend too? Yep, I've been replaced in many ways. SHE holds his hand now.

My little girl turns 12 tomorrow, and she is planning a fun sleepover with a few friends. Yesterday when I went to Walgreen's to get her a birthday card, I realized I was reading the ones for "you're a young woman now" instead of the Disney princess-y ones. She is truly a "tween"--those were both alternately too old and too young for her. The "number" cards only go up to 10, then skip to 13, 16, and 21. (then of course, you know the rest--30, 40, 50,60, 70 etc.) And of course, shopping for a gift for her does not include any trips to the toy aisle. Nope, she's done with toys. It's earrings, hair accessories, clothes, perfume, make-up, fun girl stuff! But she wants to share all this with her friends. Not her mom. Again, I'm pushed aside.

I get it now why the teen years are so hard on moms. I don't know if fathers have the same difficulties in letting go. Maybe they do, but these kids grew inside me--I remember when I couldn't even go to the bathroom without holding a baby at the same time, or being followed in by a toddler. It's a gradual thing--they go from needing constant attention, to you getting a shower alone for 10 minutes and it's heaven, and next thing you know, they are driving themselves to school. It's insane how time flies.

But one thing I know for sure--my kids do still need me. Yesterday I told my boss how I needed to cut back my hours because my kids need me. I was so happy to do it. Being present for them, even if all it means is Mom is sitting at the kitchen counter waiting there when they get home from school, is important. I can't stomach them coming home to an empty house, and I can't do it anymore. I know they can get their own after-school snack, and I know they can be alone for a few hours while I'm at work, but if I have a choice to be there, why wouldn't I want that?

I learned that at this age, my role has changed. I listen more, and talk less, and steer and guide with my words more than with four wheels.  Ian is out in the big world now, and I can't be everywhere to protect him. It's soooooo hard. Will he make good choices? Will he live up to his potential? Will he be happy?Will he be safe? As Dr. Phil says, I try to be the "soft place to fall", where they are loved unconditionally, and here to give them the hugs and smiles and affirmations they need to cope with the stressful world of being a teenager. We talk about everything, and I mean everything--and I hope they know I'm on their side and will do anything to help them navigate through this difficult age they're in. I think my kids are growing up to be the neatest people I know, and I don't just love them, I really LIKE them.

I know that I'll be their mommy forever, and I get it now how no matter how big they get, they'll always be my babies. I can't allow myself to even think for a moment what it'll be like two years from now when Ian goes away to college---so for today, I will cherish his big bear hugs and knowing that even though he's a busy boy, he's still a boy; a boy who still needs his mom. And that Jennifer is still needing my approval and encouragement to become the young woman she is becoming, and for that, I take that role seriously.

I hope I'm doing a good job. It's the hardest job I've ever had. Those hours I definitely am not ready to cut back on.

"36 Reasons Why Moms Make Better Employees---Instead of Teenagers and Other Assorted Men-Folk"

     Except for my stint as a part-time substitute teacher the last 3 years, I've been a stay-at-home mom for the previous 12 years. I just got a job in a similar line of work that I used to do before Tim and I had kids--bartending.  I work at the gym we belong to; mostly making protein smoothies and pizza and other snacks, but serving up drinks for the grown-ups as well. As with any food service job, keeping the work area clean is top priority. When I'm not serving customers, I'm scrubbing stainless steel, mopping floors, washing glasses and blenders, re-stocking supplies. Being new, I wasn't sure the first time I had to mop whether or not this particular spot on the tile was just a stubborn, sticky spilt-mark or a permanent part of the caulking. After spending considerable time scraping and scrubbing it to the point that I had my answer (it came up! I was so proud!) I had what Oprah would call a "lightbulb moment". Thankfully, it was a slow shift, and I subsequently wrote this blog on company time, albeit on little sections of receipt paper, fed and torn into 4-inch strips. I call it, "Why Companies Should Hire Moms Instead of Teenagers and Other Assorted Men-Folk". In no particular order, here's my top 36 reasons why mothers make the best employees:

1. Moms are thrilled to be getting paid to do stuff at home we do for free.

2. We are thrilled to have a good reason to get out of the house.

3. Moms get to be around other adults, having adult conversations.

4. We know how to multi-task. (We cook dinner with a baby on one hip, feed the dog, and talk on the phone, check our email).

5. We're used to running around frantically, taking care of many people with completely different needs all at the same time.

6. Moms are experts at smiling on the outside while screaming on the inside.

7. We are thrilled to get a paycheck! Assuages our guilt over spending money on getting our nails done.

8. Moms finally feel appreciated. After all, we get a paycheck!

9. Moms like that people get to see them at their best instead of their worst all the time.

10. We have an excuse for take-out.

11. Moms have a good reason to get their nails done and buy new make-up and earrings! (see #9)

12. We don't complain about having to work a holiday. (what's a holiday??)

13. EXCEPT MOTHER'S DAY. THAT'S SACRED.

14. Moms aren't likely to steal from the company.

15. We're not likely to show up stoned or drunk. Or hungover.

16. Moms get excited at being called by their names instead of 'Mommy" for a change!

17. We are used to eating standing up.

18. Moms are used to eating cold food.

19. We are used to going without eating.

20. Moms are psychic. We are amazing at anticipating the needs of others.

21. We are more likely to show up.

22. ON TIME. OR EARLY. (see #1)

23. Moms know better than to roll our eyes, sigh, or cluck our tongues when our boss asks us to do something out of our job description. (are you thinking of the last time you asked your kid to pick up after himself???)

24. We don't call in sick unless we absolutely cannot get out of bed. Moms are used to carrying on, regardless of how crappy we feel.

25. Moms are quick learners.

26. We handle pressure better than anyone else. Moms are like ducks--on the surface we are calm but underneath, we are paddling like crazy.

27. Moms like it when we are told we are doing a great job. No one tells us this at home.

28. We like making new friends! (see #3)

29. Moms don't act like menial work is beneath us. (see #1)

30. We like that our families learn to appreciate us in our absence.

31. And often we come home to clean a house. (thank you Timmy and kids!!)

32. While we are working, the kids learn to get along without us. Magnificently by the way.

33. Moms have amazingly strong bladders.

34. We obsess over dirty surfaces. (we had crawling babies, remember?)

35. Unidentified spots will be scrubbed till they disappear. It's just the way we're made.

36. Getting out of the house occasionally helps us to lose weight. (It's a win-win! We get paid, AND we can lose poundage!)


All this I came to realize just mopping the floor the other night at work. I am SO glad I'm back in the workplace, as hard as it is sometimes to not be there to pick my kids up from school (that's what buses are for!) and for them to have to fend for themselves sometimes. But you know what? Jen and Ian have gotten so much closer and so much more independent. Just this past Saturday, with me working and Tim out of town, Jennifer made pancakes and scrambled eggs for her brother. He had a track meet, and she cooked for him and woke him up and made him breakfast. I know! Made me cry too. What a sweetheart. And he ate it all. He was very appreciative.

And she had breakfast waiting for me when I got home too. Thank you sweetheart!!!

And Friday night I had candles and a bubble bath waiting for me, and all the laundry folded and put away. I love my husband!!!

Guess what? I love working!!!

Big Girls Do Cry

     Every once in a while, when I'm just be-bobbing along in my life, something will happen that will take me back to my previous life in Reedley, or West Covina, or any one of the many places I've lived in, and bring me to tears. For instance, we took a family trip to Minneapolis to the Mall of America this weekend. As we're walking around the enormous and crowded mall, Ian noticed all the strollers, and was getting annoyed trying to dodge them constantly. Before I could respond to him, I had a memory flash of Ian being the little boy in the stroller, feeling overwhelmed and frightened at being thrust about, zig-zagging powerlessly by his mother who was at the helm. I remembered how he used to cry and wanted out. I didn't tell him all this; it was a momentary memory flash that was so vivid, and so emotional, the tears just started to fall. Thank God for sunglasses.  I blinked the tears away, and kept walking, and muttered, "yeah, they're annoying, huh?"

     Last week it happened again. I just started a new job--bartender at the gym our family belongs to. I absolutely love my job, and being the new girl, I'm constantly meeting new co-workers and being introduced to them or, being the talkative one, I introduce myself. I met a new front-desk girl who the moment I laid eyes on her, the same familiar feeling came over me: a vivid memory flash as if my life in Reedley was a movie I was watching. This girl had welcoming wide eyes and a happy smile, and she was petite and giggly. Melanie. My beloved Melanie, whom I miss so very very much. I gasped, literally, and had to tell her right then and there she had a twin out in California. 

     "Really? I do?" she inquired.

     "Yes! You do! And she was my BFF and I miss her SO much!" I excitedly declared to her. "Here! This is her!" and I thrust my iPhone to her and showed her a pic of Melanie. This girl, whom I just met and can't remember her name right now and another woman working with her, leaned over and glanced at the beautiful smiling face of my Melanie. I was beaming.

     "Eh, different nose," the other woman sort of sneered. Clearly she wasn't impressed. The Melanie-twin didn't say anything. Her face didn't give away any clues either.

     "She's 4'11" and wears a size 5 shoe!" I gleefully added. That was the clincher. Both women looked at me wide-eyed, mouths gaping open. 

     "Really? NO WAY!" they took turns saying.

     "REALLY! YES!" I confirmed. 

     "SHE'S 4'11 WITH SIZE 5 SHOE TOO!!"

    "REALLY? NO WAY!" I exclaimed.

     "Yeah", they quietly admitted. It appeared she really might have a twin after all and it was sinking in. How this made her feel, I have no idea. Maybe I should've just kept it to myself. As it happens, a customer appeared and we all dissipated. I walked back to my bar and the tears started again. I didn't want to get to know this Melanie-twin. I wanted my Melanie.

     And so it goes. I had a moment laying in bed in the middle of the night a few nights ago; I'd gotten up to let one of the cats out and sure enough, I have no idea how or why, but I started to cry realizing how much I missed our old pool. We don't have a pool here, and I just can't get excited about summer coming. What are we going to do? Yes, there's a lake, yes, but we don't have a boat, and it's not like you can just go out in your backyard and jump in. I cried and cried thinking about all the friends we'd entertained, all our kids' friends that went swimming there summer after summer, and I was just so sad. It's all over with, can't go back.

     I know my kids feel the same way. I know it's been hard on Tim too. We see old friends in stranger's faces. We feel lonely, and sad, and we've put up a wall. It's a tremendous amount of effort to make new friends. It's hard not to feel that we're somehow replacing them. Nobody can replace anybody. The friends we made in California are in our hearts forever, and we hope they all know that. Thankfully we've got Facebook and texting and phone calls to stay in touch.

     It's been 8 months since we moved here now, and sometimes it gets easier, and sometimes it feels like we're going backwards. The snow has melted but it's still freezing out.  We see the temps in California and remember what we were doing a year ago there. Ian's in track now, and although daytime temps here are still in the 30's, they are running outside. In Reedley, the track kids are running outside too, but it's in the 60's and 70's. Stay with that for a moment and feel how that must feel to Ian. It's very hard.

     Even the happy moments can be tinged with sadness. Ian's driving now. He's almost 16. Any parent who's been at this moment in time knows what I'm talking about. It's surreal, it really is. He's becoming a grown-up right in front of my very eyes. I'm proud of him and sad all at the same time, as my chauffering days are slowly coming to a close. He will no longer need me in a way that has defined me in a lot of ways. This is not easy to swallow. I'm getting used to it, and I will be happy for him. And scared. It's a scary world out there. I won't be able to protect him like I could when he was that little boy in the stroller.

     Watching a young mom with her toddler daughter in the grocery store, the same thing happens. Even if she's angry at not being able to get her child to stop a tantrum, it's instant tears. I think of my curly-blonde cutie who accompanied me like glue to a stamp. We went everywhere together. Now Jenni would rather stay home and watch TV or play Wii while I go alone. No little hand to clutch onto and make sure she's safe constantly. She's a big girl now. 

     Whether it's moving to a new city, new state, or new country, or the kids growing up,  the inevitableness of change can be so hard and so sad. The circle of life goes on, and with it, new experiences and people come into our lives as we grow and change along with it.  I'm so grateful that my life partner, best friend and husband Tim has been along with me the whole way, and we're in it for the long stretch.

     I know it will get warmer, and we know that we have enjoyed the snow. Like everyone else in Wisconsin, we are sick of the cold and can't wait to be able to be outside in a pair of shorts. And yes, as time goes on, and we say less and less, "I just moved here from California". The newness has worn off and we appear to be Cheeseheads like everyone else. Only we aren't. Our accent gives it away every time. And quite possibly the sadness in our eyes. We are trying, people. I'm proud of us. I'm proud of Tim. We are doing okay. 

     As they say, you can take the Kuckelman's out of California, but you can't take the California out of the Kuckelman's.

The Meaning Behind the Music

Green Day wasn't always my favorite band. When their "Dookie" album came out in 1994, I thought "Longview" and "Basketcase" were fun songs but nothing earth-shatteringly amazing to me. I was a newlywed then, and pregnant with our first child, so rock and roll wasn't a big part of my life then. It wasn't long till I was mostly listening to "Barney" in the car, along with "Donald Duck" and other children's CD's. I know the 90's had some great bands and tunes, but I was, for the most part, oblivious.

Five years later, Jennifer was born, and the children's music played on. And on. And on. Everything I listened to and watched for at least a decade was rated G. Whatever the kids wanted, I obliged. It never really occurred to me to listen to rock music, although when I was pregnant with the kids, I always put earphones to my belly and pumped in Pearl Jam, Van Halen, Mozart and Beethoven to expose them early. I do remember hearing, "Longview" once with the kids in the car, and my "mommy arm" over-extended faster than a lightning flash to grab the volume control to turn down the "bad" words.

Things changed slowly when Ian started kindergarten. Suddenly I had only one child at home, and often, Jennifer fell asleep in her car seat to various "Disney Princess" tunes. I mostly listened to the Jewish-motherly advice of Dr. Laura, as her show seemed to resonate with my own values at the time. Flash-forward to 2005, with a now-10 year-old and 6-year old, who had grown annoyed with "baby" music. I was sooo thankful, because to this day, Tim and I STILL know all the words to the "I Love You" song sung by the purple dinosaur himself.
                                                                      *******

It was during this period of my mommy-hood that for the first time, I had two kids in school full-time. I was lost at first, didn't know WHAT to do with myself all day. It's funny how when your kids are babies, you fantasize about this over and over during those awful all-nighters, the sick days, the long bouts of crying (the babies' as well). The last person I wanted to listen to was Dr. Laura--this was MY time and kid-friendly shows were off-limits! I was lucky I didn't have to work--my wonderful husband Tim worked so I could stay home with the kids. Here was my reward for 10 years with no day off---weekdays to myself, from 8 am to 3 pm.  What was my role now? Who was I without children clinging to me all day long? My life revolved primarily around them. I volunteered at their school, and I was there as much as they were. I was probably a little frumpy, and I know I wasn't into running then. I think I'd pretty much put myself on the back burner, as many moms do. But I relished uninterrupted hot showers, the occasional lunch or Starbucks with a friend, along with the laundry and housecleaning and grocery shopping.  No one knocked on my bathroom door yelling, "MOMMY!!" It was phenomenally freeing.

Not having children in the car for a few hours a day was like serendipity. I could listen to all the bad words I wanted to! Yay! I didn't have to explain myself, I didn't have to talk to anyone. I could just sing along to whatever station I wanted to listen to. No mommy guilt. It felt weird. It felt good. It was during this time that I was driving alone, probably running mommy errands, when a song came on that made me stop and pay attention. The haunting guitar chords and sexy-voiced male lead beckoned to me. I had goosebumps.  My heart was pounding as if I'd had a religious experience.  Much like love-at-first-sight. "My shadow's the only one that walks beside me, my shallow heart's the only thing that's beating, sometimes I wish someone out there will find me, till then I walk alone...." I had tingles.. When the song ended, I gripped the steering wheel, praying the DJ would say the name of the song and band. Sure enough, he did. It was "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by, yes, Green Day. I felt a little ashamed I didn't recognize the band, but hey, 10 years of "Barney" and "Mickey Mouse" convoluted my musical perspective.

I had to have the album, "American Idiot". I immediately drove to Best Buy and bought two copies, a CD for me and one for Tim, so he could listen to it driving back and forth to work.  Somehow, it spoke to us. I listened to it beginning to end, straight through, never stopping.  I listened intently to each song, one after another, the way a mother listens to her new baby breathe--you're so mesmerized you can't pull yourself away. "Wake Me When September Ends" gave me more goosebumps and I KNEW it was going to be a huge hit post-9/11.  Song after song, somehow, it spoke to me. "Jesus of Suburbia" was mind-blowing. Sometimes it takes a little kick in the behind to jolt us out of our stupor, even if it's a happy stupor. I didn't realize something was missing from my life, but the song slapped me in the face and woke up something inside of me.

The most fun part of my transformation was that it was happening to Tim, too.

                                                                  *******

I don't remember how it happened, but before I knew it, Tim and I had tattoos. We started dressing differently. We felt younger, we looked younger, and we felt more in love than ever. I bought Tim an electric guitar for Father's Day, as I'd remembered he was in a band in high school. He relished it, and I encouraged him to join a band to "blow off steam" from the stress of his job. I started walking, then running, and I dropped 20 pounds I didn't realize I'd gained. I got a new hairstylist and cut and colored my hair shades of purple and pink. We felt alive and happy, and thankfully, our kids loved the changes in us. I was still the devoted mom, and Tim the busy executive, but something exciting was happening.

Tim got us 11th row seats to see Green Day when they came to Fresno. We've been to a hundred concerts, but this one was like none other. To see Billie Joe Armstrong and his two best friends, in the flesh, for over 3 hours, I felt like I'd been baptized.  It was a magical night, one I'll never forget. (Tim even got us Meet-and-Greet backstage passes, but Billie Joe didn't show; the drummer Tre Cool did but we couldn't get near him. Damn!) We weren't alone in our passion for this record album. It has sold 14 million copies world-wide, and subsequently won nearly 25 awards, ranging from best album, to best singles ("American Idiot", "Boulevard of Broken Dreams", "When September Ends"), to best rock band. Clearly, the Oakland-based trio touched a nerve in our collective consciousness.

                                                               *******

The lead singer of Tim's band couldn't make it to practice one night, and the bass player asked me to sit in for him since I knew all the songs. Without the pressure of being an actual band member, I hammed it up and belted out the songs as if it were Karaoke night at the local tavern. The band was so impressed with me, we actually formed a new band with me as lead singer! And for the next year and a half, we performed many times in local clubs and even recorded a demo CD.  Every performance was an opportunity to honor my hero's music. How lucky was I to be singing Green Day's music?! It was always thrilling to stand up there and cover their songs. In all, we sing about 20, and Tim's always working on more.

                                                             

Never having been to a Broadway play, and never having been to New York City, I really didn't know what to expect from "American Idiot" the play. My wonderful husband of nearly 17 years surprised me with 3rd row orchestra seats as my 50th birthday present! I screamed even louder when he told me Billie Joe was in it as the character, "St. Jimmy".  To say I was excited would be an extreme understatement.

The St. James Theatre on Broadway is a beautiful theater, with balcony seating and deep plush plum seats; much like you'd expect. One huge difference was the crowd. Many were young people, dressed in skinny jeans and studded belts and multi-colored hair and piercings. Many were your average middle-aged Mom and Brad. It was a packed house.

From where we were sitting, it turned out that Billie Joe spent much of his time onstage literally 15 feet away. He was so close, but I couldn't take a picture of him! (NOT allowed. I got yelled at for taking pictures of the theater before the curtain even went up. I didn't want to chance getting thrown out.....or did I? It was a hard decision...) He looked like Beetlejuice, his long hair gelled standing straight up. He had on his famous black jeans and studded belt and chains; a black T-shirt with a white suitcoat with black hanky in the front pocket. He was thin and good-looking, and belted out the songs while acting out the role of St. Jimmy, a kind of devil-on-your-shoulder character to the lead role of Johnny played by John Gallagher, Jr., an amazing talent who sang lead to most of the Green Day album with as much snark and snarl and tenderness as Billie did on the album. The whole cast sang along to various songs; it was a collaborative effort of dancing and singing the album straight through, just as I had listened to it that very day I brought it home with me from Best Buy. Tim and I were blown away.

Watching the actors and listening to the words of the songs I know so well, I was aware that I was learning what "American Idiot" meant to my hero, Billie Joe Armstrong. Those were words he'd written, music he'd written, painstakingly and lovingly created by that five-foot-nine man standing right there. The chords and melodies and words that cried out to me were his, and the play was basically his heart, outside of his body. "American Idiot" is a complicated story of a young man who is trying to find himself amidst the chaos of 9/11 and the war in Iraq. He uses drugs to numb the pain. He falls in love; she gives him an ultimatum. He sees his best friends go off to war, one loses his leg. He tries to conform, but where is the meaning in it all? The play exposes not only Billie Joe's contempt for our governments' reaction to 9/11 but our own.

As the character Johnny stumbles and finds his way, I realize that we all have our own journey of self-discovery. We all have our own story to tell. We all were once idealistic teenagers, and some of us conformed and became good citizens, while suppressing our rage at the same time for the establishment. Many of us are lucky to have found a balance between being wicked and being good, and being happy.
We can't just sit around and party forever--sooner or later we all have to grow up and be functional members of society. The people we hang around with help us achieve our goals or get in the way; we all have tough choices to make.

Green Day took their record and in transforming it into a play, it became a better version of itself. Just like the album did for me. Thank you, Billie Joe, and thank you my dear Timmy. I will be forever grateful.

Too Much of a Good Thing

They say that in parenting, kids model their behavior by watching yours. In my case, I think it has been the reverse when it comes to my teenage son Ian. He is by far the healthiest person I know. He hasn't had a soda in about two years. He guzzles orange juice like a pirate drinks rum, and he has gained about 30 pounds of muscle by going to the gym nearly every single day for the last year and drinking protein shakes daily. I never have to tell him to bathe, shave, or put on deodorant or wear clean clothes. Now I don't need to be told to bathe or wear clean clothes, but thanks to Ian, I have kicked my daily diet Coke habit for over a year now and we both drink so much bottled water, we buy it in cases now. I have a diet Cranergy to get my vitamin C and he and I both take our supplements. I'm so proud of him.

Which is why I was so concerned when he started just becoming sooooo tired. Now, he's a teenager, and everyone know teens need lots of sleep, and they hate getting up early. But Ian has been so great about getting up at 6:45 every day for school, and he's only been late once. So this seemed to be like a daily thing, him coming home from school and being so tired he can barely function. I thought maybe he was staying up late texting or going on his Facebook, but he said he was actually going to bed early because he was just soooo tired. 

I decided to listen to my mommy's intuition that something just wasn't right  this Monday when he begged me to let him sleep and miss his first few classes. That is not my Ian. So, I made him a doctor's appointment straight away. I was shocked at what his doctor thought might be the culprit---arsenic poisoning from drinking powdered protein shakes! He told us that there was a huge study done recently that showed most protein powders and shakes contain 3 heavy metals: arsenic, lead, and cadmium. He ordered an array of blood tests and we are awaiting results. (he's also being tested for just about everything---anemia, thyroid, and drugs--which I'm not worried about honestly). Ian is just as curious as I am, and he is FURIOUS. Furious that he's been doing everything he can to be as healthy as possible and here something that's supposed to be helping him is doing damage. We are hoping the damage is minimal and hasn't affected his liver or kidneys!

At this point, he's looking for a safter substitute as he's trying to gain weight (yes, I hate him) LOL For now, he is so angry, WE are so angry. He is looking into a class action suit against the manufacturer of the very expensive powder he's been using. We buy it at GNC and it's like $40 a container, and of course, they always talk us into buying two at a time because we "save money". 

Here's the link if you're interested : 

'Toxic' Report Has Big Protein Supplement Brands Under Assault

http://ori.cnbc.com/id/37577600

I'll keep you updated as we get Ian's blood test results in. And if you know anyone who's drinking protein shakes, let them know how dangerous they are. And let's call a lawyer!! (Tim????)