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.

Contempt or Comfort? It's All in the Eye of the Beholder

"Familiarity Breeds Contempt", goes the old saying, and certainly I can agree it sometimes rings true. I know that before we moved all the way from Reedley,  California to Hartland, Wisconsin, I was sick and tired of driving down a particular road called Manning. Manning was the main artery that connected little Reedley to big-city Fresno and beyond. It was 12 miles down Manning to get to the freeway. It was another 15 miles via freeway to get to Target, the mall, decent restaurants, and nightlife. You can imagine how many times we went down that 12-mile stretch over the course of the 8 years we lived there. 

Additionally, to get to our kids' elementary school, we had to drive down Manning. About 2 miles. Not far, but a quick calculation of the back-and-forth from home to school multiplied by eight years and yes, you have contempt.  I loved that their school was so close, but there was really only one way to get there, and yes, it involved Manning. 

When our son got to high school, Manning became a street that was basically a skip-and-a-jump over to get to the street it was actually on. It was such a nice diversion! And of course, having one kid in elementary and the other in high school, there was a new back-and-forth routine, picking one kid up and driving to get the other kid at the new school location.

I remember the day we left Reedley, we were so sad, recalling all the things we were going to miss. Our friends---numero uno. Our beloved house. Tied for numero uno. Our favorite breakfast spot--Main Street Cafe. The donut shop, "Donuts to Go", cute little downtown Reedley, the annual Christmas and pet parades. The things we were going to miss were so numerous. To break the sadness and tension, I said to my family as we drove out of town, "I am NOT going to miss driving down Manning! If I ever drive down Manning again I'll stab myself!!" and we all laughed in agreement. Yet when we visited over Christmas, we drove once again down that bedeviled street. It was wistful, not contemptuous. 

We have been in Wisconsin now for five months and two days, and we have yet to feel the "contempt" that too much familiarity breeds. We have our morning routines down, but we see new things every trip. Just this morning my son noticed all the icicles hanging from everyone's roof eves. We commented that people in Wisconsin don't hang Christmas icicle lights because----they have REAL ICICLES!!!  My husband has learned several new ways to get around our little town, so that too breaks the monotony. We have eaten out quite a few times, but nothing has stuck in our craw as a favorite yet like our Main Street Cafe did, or Jon's Bear Club, or The Pub, or Valentino's. Nope. We are trying though, you gotta give us that. There is a pizza place that we've been to twice, and we like it. Maybe eventually it'll replace our Valentino's but you can't force that sort of warm fuzzy no matter how hard you want to feel it. It something that just happens, like a mad crush that comes out of nowhere, or a favorite song. When you feel it, you just know it's right.

We do feel an affinity for our gym---we go often enough to feel comfortable but for Tim and me, we still don't know a soul here. It's really a strange and lonely feeling to never see a familiar face wherever you go. When we were back visiting Reedley over Christmas, I'd barely gotten out of my car to go to CVS when I heard, "LAUREN!!!!!!" I bumped into people I knew everywhere. (Most of whom were confused as to where I'd been the last 5 months they hadn't seen me). You know, acquaintances but not friends who get used to your mug in their daily lives, and you get used to theirs. You don't know their names, but you probably know their kids' names. You sat side-by-side at endless Little League games, and school fundraisers. That's what I miss the most having moved 1500 miles away. The friendly wave when you drive by, and boasting about your kids' grade point average to someone who knows how hard your kid really worked for it, because they've known them since they were knee-high to a grasshopper.

I know it wasn't always like this. When my husband's job moved us to Reedley in 2002, we didn't know a soul then either. I think I pouted then too,  but I'd dug my heels in and got involved in the kids' school. I volunteered in their classrooms, and started the chess club. I was there almost as much as the kids were! I've been a lucky stay-at-home mom for more than 14 years now, so I was able to do all that. I even became a substitute teacher! I was a friendly, reliable, semi-permanent fixture at their elementary school.

Well, Jenni's a middle-schooler now, and Ian's a high school sophomore, so the days of helping in their classrooms is long over. I'm glad I did it then, but how do I make friends now? How do I stay involved now? It's much more difficult, and the first semester has ended and I still don't know anyone here. My kids are doing great---they have settled in and adapted amazingly well. I'm so happy for them.

So, what about me? I'm the new person, the one with the funny accent (hahah, that's funny). I'm the one that's too loud, dresses too differently, wears too much glittery jewelry. I am irritated time and again over how different and new everything is, and I have trouble keeping my mouth shut. Everyone seems to know one another and that's a lonely feeling.  I'm the one that has suddenly become shy because I feel so different. I keep to myself but sometimes I get so lonely I just talk to anyone and everyone. I've noticed how quiet and boring most people here live---and I enjoy being the life of the party. I don't care if people talk about me behind my back---as long as they're talking about me!!

I'm taking private vocal lessons, and my teacher is amazing. Hopefully Tim and I will put a new band together and start performing again. Breaking up our band was really the hardest part of leaving  Reedley. Baseball season will be sad for Ian's former team without him; the boys have all played together for six years. We thought that when we moved away, WE were the ones who suffered the most, but in seeing friends and family again, we realized that our absence left a hole in their lives as well. I hadn't thought of that.

The familiarity of friendships and shared experiences breeds not contempt, but comfort. 

If I hear "how are you surviving the snow?" one more time I'll scream!!!

I and my kids just had our very first white Christmas ever. And it was every bit as magical as all the songs describe it, as all the Christmas cards pictures show, and all the talk about it. It snowed on Christmas Eve, and it was just like a Norman Rockwell painting. We were sitting around the tree in our living room, fire in the fireplace, the dog curled up in front of it, our three cats sacked out in varying places around the room (one under the tree among the presents). I took some pics and we all just for a moment, watched the snow coming down outside the window, and just took a deep breath, taking in the whole beauty of the moment. We laughed and wondered how the heck we ended up here, but glad we were. Then we started tearing open the gifts--and the magic of the snow was soon relegated to back burner status.

We are one month into our first winter here in Wisconsin, and so far so good. We are actually enjoying the snow SO much, the kids and I all commented that we can't imagine not living where they get snow in winter! Seriously! We have a huge backyard, 1 acre, and we have a little hill that's great for sledding. The kids spend hours outside sledding. They have gotten very creative, making jumps and icing their sleds so they'll go faster. Ian took the wheels off his skateboard and made a make-shift snowboard, and he's gone from crashing constantly to being able to stay up all the way down without falling! We think he's ready for the real deal. Jenni has a need for speed and begged us to take her to a REAL hill, so Tim found a couple challenging ones. We all piled in the car and went together. It was snowing hard, which made it even more spectacular. I don't think I've ever had more fun in my entire life than I did that day, watching my kids scream down the hill, sharing a sled with my daughter, seeing Tim on a dinky sled with the biggest smile I've ever seen on him, it was just so so so much fun.

The view from my kitchen and living room is breathtaking. We still don't have any curtains or blinds, so everywhere you are, there's nothing but windows and white snow. We traded palm trees for evergreens, and honestly, I've never seen a snow-covered evergreen that wasn't fake flock. Even Ian can't stop marveling at their beauty. Every time we get in the car, we just still gasp at the beauty of everything covered in white.

I am proud of how we've acclimated. Myself actually. When it's around 24-32, it's comfortable. I'm still wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and just a light jacket. I have traded my Converse for a pair of Uggs, and that's the outfit. Perfect. We've realized that snow, as it's coming down, is not wet like rain. We hate rain now. We prefer snow. Also, when it's snowing, you don't need to use your windshield wipers. It just bounces off the car. And let's face it, snow-covered cars look soooo cool. Like Jenni said, "Mommy! We live in a snow globe!!" That's exactly how it feels. Well said darling.

Now, wind chill is another thing entirely. I have gotten so acclimated, I can guess the temp. We came out of the movies yesterday and it was colder than when we went in. I said to my daughter (who loves to check them temp on her new iPhone), "Hmm, so it's 24 right now? Feels like 15 with wind chill." And guess what???  It was 12! (insert smug face here). Wind chill means if you don't have your gloves on and every inch of skin covered, you will be a popsicle in less than 15 seconds. I had no idea what frozen fingers really felt like. Yikes!

Ian only covers up when he's going outside to play in the snow. He looks absolutely handsome in his knit cap, jacket, ski gloves,  ski pants and boots. His white teeth sparkle and he's got the happiest face i've ever seen on him. Jenni's beauty comes alive with her adorable peach hat with braided dangly things bobbing as she flies down the hill. She's fearless.

Ian turned 15-1/2 in November and got 100% on his driver's permit test, and so guess what?? He's driving! It's been soooo surreal. Any parent who's been through this stage knows exactly what I'm talking about. It's all new to us, and it's exciting and scary. Ian's is a good driver, although he's got his mommy's impatient streak. I gotta work on that myself. It's a reminder how kids really take in what they see and hear on a daily basis.

Driving in snow, no problem. Driving 3 days after it snowed, after a sunny day that melted some of said snow, not so easy. I have been afraid of black ice since we first knew we were moving here.  Tim versed me well in how to cope with different driving situations, but it's not till you actually are IN those situations that you learn how to cope. I was careful, going way under the speed limit, and I saw other cars spinning out of control. It was soooo scary. I only slid once, going downhill to a stop sign. I was already breaking, going like 3 mph, but still my car wasn't stopping. I just came to a stop inches from the other car's bumper so that was scary.

I also didn't know that WALKING was dangerous!! Jennifer had lost her cell phone out sledding in our backyard, and we knew we'd never find it till spring, so we stopped looking for it. Then we had a big rain, which washed away lots of the snow, so smart me decided to go look for it.  I never found it (of course) but while I was looking, my boots slipped on the icy snow and just like a cartoon, they whipped me flat on my butt. Which, if you didn't know this, your butt has a little bone in it called a TAILBONE and let me tell you it HURT LIKE A MF!!! OMG I never knew how important that little bone is to a multitude of activities. Like sitting down!!! Sitting anywhere (use your imagination). Not to mention doing my ab crunches. Yowch!!! It'll be weeks before I can do those. I Googled "broken tailbone" and it says there's no treatment, just basically take Advil 24/7 and it'll fix itself. Psshhhh wonderful. What a dork I am. I can't even walk without hurting myself.

So now, forget fear of driving. I'm scared of walking!!! I look for ice everywhere. Getting out of the car and going to a store or wherever I shuffle like an old man. Pathetic. The farthest I really ever need to walk is the mailbox and the newspaper, and most of the time I just drive to it anyway. Works for me. Will my life really be that affected if I skip reading it a day or two?

Well, it's the end of December, and we've made it this far. When we get back from California, it'll be January, and we've been told the worst is yet to come. That "first snow" is the soft, pleasant snow, and that the rest is going to be cold and miserable. All I can say is, thanks for the heads up people. I'm taking it one day at a time, one snowfall and one icy driveway at a time. This lifelong California girl is doing the best she can, trying to stay optimistic and try to find the joy and beauty. Would I be me if I did it any other way??

Stuff I Swore I'd Never Do (or Buy for that matter)

As we say goodbye to Halloween, hello to Thanksgiving and "OMG I have to start Christmas shopping!?", we Kuckelman's have been busy little bees getting ready for THE SNOW. Yes, we know it's coming. Last night Tim and I sat with our mouths gaping open, not breathing, watching the news report about the 8 inches of snow Minneapolis got overnight. Now, Minneapolis is not far away from us, five hours driving, an hour flight. This was a sign, not from the gods, but from hell, as in, "when hell freezes over".  Now this isn't the first time we've seen people shoveling snow and scraping ice off their car windows. We've seen plenty of video of cars sliding on icy highways and watched something called "snow-blowers" on our TV screens from the warmth and comfort of our California house. But this time, it was different---this was happening in Minneapolis, yes--but in a matter of weeks, this will be us.

Last week we bought a new 4-wheel drive car, which I'm under the impression is nothing short of a tank and will protect me and my children from all dangerous driving conditions. (here's where you laugh). I had to take said new car back to the dealer to have a remote start installed. What is that you ask? It's a cute little remote control button that when you push it, your car automatically starts, without you in it. This is very popular out here, and soon I'll appreciate how neat a remote start really is--like when I'm pushing a 75-pound grocery cart from store to parking lot in a blizzard. That little button will magically warm up my car, inside and out, and literally save my life. (it won't, however, unload my bags--pronounced "bee-aggs", remember---into said car. I will still get covered in snow and my ears will freeze).

When I took the car in, I got a "loaner" car to drive. This loaner car belonged to the dealership, but was being driven by the salesman. He gave me the keys, and as I opened the door to get in, there was a very strange contraption in the back seat. It was a long, red stick, about 3 feet long, with a little squeegee thingy on one end. Next to it lay a pair of heavy winter gloves. Hmmm, I marveled to myself, what an interesting thingamajig. "....wonder what the heck that thing is!" I chuckled to myself and dismissed it as a "guy" thing, you know, some sort of stupid  "guy" tool.

It came to me watching the news last night when I saw that some poor shmuck was using a long, red stick exactly like the one in my back seat!! He was scraping the ice off his car windows, and I swear it looked like he was getting a really intense workout. I was quickly adding up how many calories he might be burning, and thought, hmmm, maybe I can skip the gym if this happens to me. But then I thought, Oh My God, am I going to have to scrape ice off my car windows????  Add this to the list of things I thought I would never do.

And going the hardware store to buy one of these stupid ice scrapers is definitely on that list.

Our neighbors have been bugging us to get our own SnowBlower. Yeah, right, like we're REALLY going to go out at 5 am and blow our own snow off our driveway?? Pssshh right!! Not the California Kuckelman's!! Yes, we are smarter than that, silly Wisconsinites. We hired someone to do it for us!!! Yay!!! So, as we sleep, the Snow Blower Fairy will come to our humble abode and nicely get rid of all annoying and misplaced snow for us!! Ain't that amazing??? I am deeply grateful.

We had our first foray into snow last night, as we got what's called "snow flurries". Now, these are nothing like the McFlurry's you get at McDonald's. They are so NOT like McFlurry's, I honestly have no idea why they are called that. Jennifer and I got SO excited when we found out we were going to have "Snow Flurriess" we did a happy little dance around the kitchen. Then we realized we had no idea what "snow flurries" were so we had to Google "snow flurries" to find out.

It had been a cold rainy night when said Flurries were due, so with baited (and possibly garlic) breath, we kept gazing out the front door hoping for a glimpse. Yes!!! Finally said Flurries were falling from the sky!! We ran out the front door and did another little happy dance and hugged as we experience our very first snow together. I ran back into the house screaming, "IAN!!! COME QUICK!!! IT'S SNOWING!!!" Ian struts his manly strut towards the door in his usual outfit of wife-beater shirt and shorts, barefoot, and takes one look out the front door and grunts, "That's not real snow", annoyed, and turns and goes back in the house.  Jennifer and I were nonplusssed and continued our happy Flurry dance. There weren't enough flurries to make any snowballs, and so we got bored and went inside too.

There's no snow in the immediate forecast, but that's good cuz it gives me time to accept that I've got to go buy a thingamajig-ice-scraper-thingy. And, actually hand over money for it, and keep it in my backseat.

Just in case.