Family

Sailing empty beaches with a dose of sibling warfare

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Yesterday we were able to check sailing off of an acquaintance’s bucket list for his 50th birthday. It was a hot day in WI. We were asked earlier this month by his wife to surprise him with a sail. In the morning, we were able to sail into town for some lunch and live music. The winds were light, but that meant we didn’t do a lot of heeling which sometimes freaks out the newbies. 

After lunch we sailed to the beach. We spent several hours swimming. The beach that is boat to boat on the weekends was practically deserted. The photo that I took doesn’t do it justice. We had a bit of an issue. I tossed Paul his hat, wine glass, and the bottle of wine. Except he didn’t catch it all. The bottle sunk to the bottom, we saw a few bubbles and then it was gone. Who would’ve guessed? I was thinking of the floating message in the bottle.  Paul did end up stepping on the bottle later so I didn’t get in too much trouble. Lol. 

My friend and I gossiped about our mutual friend Cori. She is the one that got first place last weekend on the half in our age group while I took second. She beat my time by 10 minutes. My friend told me that Cori works out almost 30 hours per week. I thought that my 5 hours were a lot. She works out as much as I work! It just bothered me that she can stay up all night partying and whip me. Did I tell you that she smokes too?? Geez, I shouldn’t be such a crab because she always has been helpful giving me pointers even though I am technically competition. Albeit, not that much. When I heard how much she works out, she can have that first. Someday when I am independently wealthy I will work out more, but not that much! 

Anyway, after having an absolutely gorgeous day sailing, the other couple took us out to eat for their gratitude. They have been wanting to sail for a very long time and almost went for a weekend almost a decade ago. They had everything planned then found out that their hosts wanted to take them for the weekend without clothes. Good thing they didn’t put any money down for that trip!

Paul and I almost slept out on the hook for the first time this week. It was a hot, sunny, wind free evening when we left home. When we got to the marina it was cool, cloudy, and windy. We anchored at the beach in 3 to 4 foot waves and strong winds. Paul was afraid that the anchor would let loose and crash us into shore. That was the end of that idea. Maybe next week…

When we got home last night, I received a call from my son saying that the car wouldn’t start. Angel and I went out to get him last night around 10 PM. After the great day of sailing, it seemed like I was in another world. Back to reality! The car needed towing. On the ride back home, Alex and Angel fought something vicious. Alex got out of the car and started walking the 15 miles home. By the time I straightened things out and we all got home it was after 11:30PM. Seems like there are a lot more fireworks in fights when siblings are teens. And to think I thought I would be able to come home and go to bed after sailing!

Sometimes you just have to take the good with the bad. One thing is for sure…my life is always an adventure!

Pick your poison- 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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Today we are going to talk a little about potential poisons a.k.a. reasons I had poison control on speed dial.

Maybe I should be happy that my kids were never picky eaters. Until recently, that is. Alex seems to have an aversion to anything green and particularly vegetable looking. He has an affinity towards junk food. Ah, teenagers…

My kids were always into trying new foods. Maybe it has something to do with Paul being a good cook. What worried me was that they were also into trying non food items as well.

When Angel was a little girl, I caught her nibbling on a house plant at my grandma’s house. It didn’t look all that appetizing to me. Maybe it was because I was lacking foliage. You see, I have a black thumb. Houseplants were taboo which might have made them alluring. I called poison control. What kind of plant did she eat? Well, how do I know? My house was the scene of many houseplant homicides. Thankfully, grandma left the identifier tag in the plant. Not poisonous! Phew.

Then there was the silica, the bag of little white beads in a shoe box. Why do they put that in a shoe box anyway? I’ve always wondered. Why would you need to preserve the freshness of shoes? They should make them so they stay fresh and don’t wear out after buying them not before. I can see how silica could look like a little bag of candy. Yum! Not poisonous, I called.

Then Alex ate a big handful of anti-bacterial foam soap. I admit, it does look a little bit like whip cream. I know that kids in history got their mouths washed out with soap. That was not a worry. What I didn’t like was that it was anti-bacterial soap which previously gave Angel a fierce rash. I called poison control. Not poisonous.

Arabella ate an Asian Beetle. It bit her tongue which swelled up a little. Not poisonous!

The kids broke out in hives from their antibiotics. Not poisonous!

I thought the dog got into a bag of dishwasher detergent. Phew, turns out that he didn’t. He did eat ant poison. He also ate a candy bar. Despite my fears, it didn’t poison him either.

Then the kids got older. They no longer were tempted by non food items. Then I started worrying about other things. I worried for a long time that they would choke on food when they were home alone. My mom told us of the time that she almost died choking on a grape when she was a kid. Worry.

Then I started to worry about them using the stove to cook meals. Would they leave the burner on and burn down the house??

It seems like children (and pets) bring on worries. They aren’t the same ones as when they were younger though. Are the kids eating enough? Too much? Enough good foods? Too much junk food? Can they afford to take their significant other out to eat? Hmm, that was a little pricey don’t you think? Maybe they should cook at home. Will they clean up the kitchen after themselves?? Will the dog get into their garbage?? And when am I going to stop spending so much money on food??

 

 

The end of the race

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I ran my last race for this year, a half marathon. I was happy with my time, just a few minutes over 2 hours. Although when compared to my running friends, that is not impressive. 

Cori stayed up until 3 AM the night before. She drank a 12 pack of beer. I went to bed by 10 and only had one beer. She beat my time by 10 minutes! Lisa stayed up until 2 AM and had a couple of beers. She beat my time too. Then for the 5k we ran together, she stayed up all night long drinking and was probably still drunk. I went to bed early. She beat my time. WTH? Why am I so slow? I try to do everything right! 

I wish I was an ultra runner. It seems like I am prone to injury. I wasn’t able to finish any race this year without knee pain. This year I planned on running a 5k, 10k, half, full, and my first tri. I achieved my goal, however no PR’s. Every single race day was either hot and/or humid. Then there was my knee. 

Maybe I should find some friends that aren’t runners. Someone who hears the word marathon and thinks of Netflix. I can hear it now…. Wow, a 5k! You’re so amazing! Did you win? Would that be better than trying to do everything right and still not being good enough? Idk. I took second place so I am not bad. So, whatever. I just feel sometimes that they look down at me for not being as good as they are. In my defense, Cori doesn’t work and dedicated her life to running and working out. How can I compete with that? 

After the race, I picked up Arabella and her BFF from camp. I had to do a lot of driving. That made me a little nervous. Would I fall asleep behind the wheel? After I picked up the girls, we headed up north. We stopped by my in-laws on the way. Martha lost more weight since I saw her last. She looked like a feeble old woman walking around slowly with her walker. Cancer, the horrible devastating destroyer. Martha started giving away some of her items. She gave me a platter that she got as a free gift from some casino. I don’t know what to do with all of the “treasures” she is giving me. 

I would much rather hear family stories from her, like who Paul’s father is. Does she even know?? Does it even matter anymore though? Paul will never look for him. I want to hear stories of her childhood and growing up. This is our last chance to really know her. 

Martha’s husband Darryl invited us to stay for supper. He had some raccoons cooking in the crock pot. I politely declined. I’m not sure trying raccoon is on my bucket list.

We finally got to the cabin around supper time. The water wasn’t working and the pump was running nonstop. My dad decided to come up to the cabin to look at it. Thankfully, it was an easy fix. So I ended up spending the evening talking alone with my dad while the girls played games in the next room. It was strange since I don’t remember ever spending the evening up north with my dad without a lot of other adults around. It was actually nice to talk to him. Who knows how much time he has left?

Other than that, the weekend was rather uneventful. It is nice to be done racing for the year. I am already starting the think about next year…

Off her rocker-911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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When I entered the bathroom alone that day, Angel was on her little rocking chair playing quietly. A few seconds later, when I came out, it was an entirely different story.

In the short time, Angel turned her rocking chair upside down. She was lying face down wedged uncomfortably under the two rungs on the bottom of the chair stuck and crying.

I had two choices. I could either yank her out by pulling on her back or I could grab her legs and try to get her chest, head, and neck through the two rungs. The second option wasn’t ideal as I didn’t want to trap her head and neck in the chair. So I tried to yank her out from her back. She wouldn’t budge since I couldn’t get her butt past the rungs.

Next I did what I thought was the best. I freaked out! I called my husband at work. He tried to calm me down and walk me through it. He told me that I needed to put cooking oil or something slippery on her in order to slide her out. Seemed kind of obvious, but in a panic my IQ drops 50 points.

After I calmed down, I ran into the bathroom and found some anti-bacterial soap. I pulled down her pants and applied globs of soap to her butt. After that, I was able to slide her out of the chair.

But the story doesn’t end there. Angel broke out in the biggest fire red bumpy rash that I have ever seen right on her rear. I was worried that people would think that I had taken to beating her. It certainly looked like I did.

Looking back, the whole experience seems kind of funny now.

It is so hard to believe that in less than two weeks she will be packing her bags and moving out. I am happy for her, but mostly I feel sad.

Sea sick

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I spent the whole weekend on the water. Sailing by day and fishing by night. My body is swaying to an unheard unsteady beat. I feel sea sick. It is slowly going away.

Saturday morning, Paul and I took my mom sailing for her birthday. Not just my mom, but a whole fleet of boats followed us to a local festival. We also took our daughter Arabella, my sister-in-law Carla, and my autistic brother Matt. Carla and Matt never sailed before.

The trip went better than expected. Matt did really well on the boat, better than Carla who spent a lot of time complaining about how hot she was. It took us a long time to eat lunch with our big group. By the time we finished, there was only an hour left of the festival. We were downhearted about having to pay full price until they decided to let us all in for free.

Paul, Arabella, and I stayed overnight at the marina in town alongside our friend Harv. Harv wanted someone to sail back with him in the morning. Harv is in his mid-80’s. We discussed what to do in an emergency. I piped in that I would probably freak out and never want to go sailing again. It was decided that Arabella would sail back with Harv. They had a great time playing cards together while the auto pilot sailed them home with Paul and I beside them.

I was dead tired when I got home. A few hours after I got home, I received a call from Ted and Cindy who wanted to take me salmon fishing for the first time. They asked a couple of times this year and last year, but I was never able to go last minute. Paul has hell week at the theater, so I decided to go without him.

The three of us left yesterday evening to salmon fish on Lake Michigan. After we got past the breakwater, Ted opened the motor on his boat and we were flying across the waves. I have never been on a boat that fast. It was exhilarating. I was not afraid even when we were in 100 feet of water. Ted cast the lines in the water. The down riggers made a melodic humming noise in the water. It was very peaceful.

Then we waited. We saw fish on the fish finder, but they were not biting. Ted gave me pointers on how to reel in a big salmon. Cindy showed me her big box of lures. Ted marked spots where he saw schools of fish. It seemed like we went in circles all night. We danced around other boats. We saw the lights go on in the towns nearby. The lake became quiet and dark. It was very beautiful. I was cold. Still no bites.

The other boats filled with men left the water. I didn’t see any other women fishing. Still no bites. I could tell that Ted was upset. They wondered why the fish weren’t biting. They looked at me. I hoped they weren’t going to throw me overboard. Maybe I was bad luck. They worried that I was bored and would never come back again. The lake grew dark. The other boats left. No bites. No bites. I was not afraid. Even in 100 feet. Even in the dark.

I was starting to feel sleepy. Ted pulled out the fishing poles. Cindy steered the boat. I put away the glow in the dark lures. I put one away and several others stuck to my clothing. I wanted to be helpful but didn’t know what else to do. Ted opened the motor on the way back in the dark. I was a little afraid of what I couldn’t see. I felt like I was driving with my eyes closed.

We got back after midnight. I almost fell down the steps when I got home. The room was swaying. The steps seemed to move.  This morning I felt hungover. I had a headache. My stomach felt queasy. It was hard to eat. The room moved. I wanted it to stop. My body wanted to fight the feeling.

Paul has been talking about sailing the loop. Retiring on the sea. Getting a bigger boat. Cruising the Caribbean. Sailing to Tahiti. All I want right now is for the room to stop spinning.

19th anniversary sail

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Seconds tick into minutes. The gears of time grind onward clicking minutes into hours. Hours turn into days, then months, then years, then decades. Before I knew it, I spent half my life with the same person. Sometimes I want to stop the sand from flowing through the hourglass so fast, suspend time for awhile. I wish our days were as numerous as sand on the beach then I won’t have to grasp time so greedily before it slips away.

Paul and I left Friday morning to sail to our destination, a beautiful resort in Door County for our 19th anniversary. The winds were against us. But we didn’t have time to go any other days, we had to force it. Last minute I decided to pack my rain coat, even though we weren’t expecting rain. I took the above picture as we were leaving. A few minutes later, I exchanged my shorts for pants and put on my rain coat. We were sailing against the wind and 3 to 6 foot waves were smashing into the bow soaking me. We had to motor for 2 hours under these conditions. I barely kept down my breakfast. I guess that is what happens when nature conflicts with your schedule.
 

After several hours of fighting the waves, we finally were able to sail through smoother waters. We did sail awhile for fun, but it didn’t get us towards our destination. It is ironic how something seemingly small, like the wind or a slight change in direction, can set the whole trajectory off course. Marriage is a lot like that at times too. The funny thing is that we don’t really notice the little changes at the time. Only when we look back with a great amount of reflection can we try to chart where we went off course. 

 

We arrived safely at our destination and were very warmly greeted by the other sailors. We were even offered the use of a car if an emergency arose at home which I came close to taking them up on. Lol. I AM the worried mother of three teenagers after all! We toured a larger sailboat and were offered a sail the following morning. We politely declined to explore a new beach. 

The next morning we motored 45 minutes to a small beach that was remote to get to from land but rather crowded by water. We were planning on blowing up our dingy and having a picnic on shore followed by a swim. The spot where we anchored was rather weedy. Then we noticed that the beach was full and the water was empty. So we decided to ditch the whole dingy idea and head back to the resort pool. We were talking about the beach we explored with someone and how the people didn’t seem to care for the water. We were told that the water was 61 degrees! Bbbrrrrr!! I’m glad we decided to eat our lunch aboard and head back to the resort pool. I even went into the hot tub and sauna for awhile. 

That is summer in Wisconsin. 

To be continued…. 

Drowning, my fears – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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I, myself, have never been afraid of drowning. Maybe I would’ve been if my brother drowned that warm spring day.

It is a topic of conversation that never goes away. Why did my mom let my dad talk her into leaving the 6 year old me in charge of watching my 3 younger brothers alone in the water? Was I always the protector or did I become that way? 

A few weeks ago, my brother told me that he has nightmares of me watching him drown. How can he remember? He just turned two. I remember everything that happened that day. I stood on the dock paralyzed with fear watching my brother gulping water and gasping for air. As he flailed his arms, my 3 year old brother exclaimed excitedly over and over that he was swimming. My autistic 5 year old brother stood in the shallow water flapping his hands oblivious to the surrounding peril. 

I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t seem to move. My mom came back to check on us and saved my brother. I knew that I failed because I couldn’t protect him.

I never was afraid of drowning. I was afraid of watching others drown.

Fast forward another 6 years to when I was 12. I watched my baby cousin in their swimming pool while her mom was at work. She was sitting in the water on a pool chair. She fell off the chair backwards into the water. I grabbed her leg and pulled her out. I was so happy that I didn’t panic and let her drown. But everyone else seemed so angry. My uncle got scolded from his wife for letting me watch my cousin in the pool. No one seems to remember that I protected her, that I didn’t let her drown.

Fast forward another decade after I had children of my own. We were told as new parents to never leave your baby unattended even for a few seconds in the bathtub. If the phone is ringing in the other room, let it ring. I suppose this is not a problem anymore for the new generation of parents.

Then my kids got older to the age where I didn’t need to sit and watch them bathe. I could go in every few minutes and check on them. One day I checked on Arabella in the bathtub after there was an unusual period of silence. I opened the tub door to find her floating in the water fast asleep. For a brief minute, as I gazed at her motionless body, I was terrified that she drowned. It was the most horrible anxiety ever. I thought that I failed to protect her.

After that happened, I worried that my children would drown. I never liked my kids taking showers when I was gone or asleep. I mean, they could slip on a bar of soap, hit their head, and drown. I don’t let them go swimming alone. I feel the need to keep an eye on them when they are swimming in water.

Even having my 3 kids swim together at the beach in front of me in shallow water wasn’t enough. I looked away for a minute and then there were 2 kids. My youngest wandered off from her siblings and couldn’t be found. It was a large beach with a lot of people. In just a few seconds they got distracted and separated. I ran up and down the beach combing the water until she was found safe. Another terrifying moment. 

So I worry. Worry makes me feel like I have some control, that I will be prepared for the worst that could happen. I worry about the things I can’t control. I feel like I am responsible for everything that happens. I am the protector. Sometimes I even try to control when I need to let go. It leaves me a nervous wreck. 

Within this last month, my daughter became an adult. My son turned 16 and got his driver’s license. Sometimes I can’t even tell anymore if my worries are rational or irrational. I don’t know anymore. 

People that don’t worry tell me not to worry, to worry about things I can control, and that I need to trust God more. Believe me, I wish I was a carefree person. I have an extreme fear of failing to be a protector. When something goes wrong, I blame myself.

I want to relax. I want to let go. 

But sometimes the worry drowns me.

Running with razor blades – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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A long time ago, back when both of my grandparents were still alive, Paul and I took our little girl Angel out for a visit. My grandparents lived in a house where all of the main rooms downstairs were connected in a circular pattern. Think indoor running track. Well, that is exactly what my kids used it for anyway. It wasn’t bothersome, they wore off some extra energy, and you always knew their whereabouts.

On that day, Angel ran quite a few laps. After awhile we tuned out the constant tread of her little feet. That is until we heard the noise that no parent ever wants to hear…

Absolute silence.

I went to check on her.

What I saw next made me shriek in terror. I sqawked louder than a mother bird protecting her nest from predators.

Angel was holding a handful of straight edge razor blades. Her bloody little fingers were bringing them towards her mouth in slow motion. I screamed! She dropped her find and cried in response to my fear. I freaked out as Paul calmly inspected her bloody hands.

My grandma felt horrible. My grandparents kept everything. Although their house did not reflect hoarding or clutter, they kept many useless objects. They tucked those objects into hidden nooks and crannies like they were treasure. The razor blades from another era were hidden in the back of a bottom lower cupboard. In those brief seconds of silence, Angel found them and attempted to eat them.

Thankfully, she didn’t get seriously hurt. She didn’t need stitches. She just had a few cuts on her hands. Sometimes I shudder to think about what could have happened if I didn’t get there when I did.

It was on that day that I learned a lesson as a relatively new parent.

I learned that sometimes my kids are going to do things that hurt them. As a parent, it is very difficult to watch. If they would only listen to me, then maybe they could save themselves the pain of learning things the hard way.

Unfortunately that is not the way life works.

Sometimes I wonder if that is how God feels about us.

 

Broken snow globes – 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps

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Back when Angel was a very little girl, perhaps before her siblings were born, I started a snow globe collection for her. Beautiful dancers and assorted wildlife swirled in the glistening snow. I put her collection safe up high on a ledge that she, for sure, couldn’t reach. She could gaze at them during nap time.

Ah, nap time. Well, what was supposed to be nap time.

When I entered her room that afternoon, there was a carnage of broken creatures that escaped their forever winter out of shattered glass. All of the snow globes were broken and Angel had glitter coming out of her mouth.

I called poison control that day.

What do you suspect is in snow globe water? Not drinking water, I’m sure.

Is eating globs of globe glitter harmful?

God forbid, did she swallow any of the glass??

Somehow she managed to survive until adulthood.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Even if I had the snow globes suspended from the ceiling, they wouldn’t be high enough to keep out of the hands of a curious toddler.

Not long after that, I put the number for poison control on speed dial.

 

Eye blinks

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I took the day off of work and spent half of it at the mall. 

It is out of character for me. I HATE shopping! I hate spending money. Mall clothes are absolutely boring. 

I, myself, prefer the 60’s bohemian style of attire. Flowers galore, even in my hair. Long flowing dresses. Gaudy rings. I would even have a hippie van if I could with lava lamps and beaded curtains. I decorate my house with floral patterns but don’t have what it takes to make a flower grow.

Or I prefer the punk look. Edgy, studs on my pants, dark eye shadow, lots of earings. Band t-shirts, jeans that are ripped. 

But mainly I wear athletic clothes. 

I am very picky about the clothes I buy, especially clothes shopping in the mall. Racks of clothes with nothing exciting to wear. But today that is where I ended up. I bought a deck of Pink Floyd playing cards and a floral hair band for myself. The rest of the items in my cart belonged to Angel.

My daughter Angel turned 18 today. I am now the parent of an adult child. Every time I think of that for some reason I think of AA. Crazy how my mind works…

We awoke this morning to storms with strong winds that brought area trees down. It was nothing like the sunny day that I gave birth to my first child. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, when I opened them she was gone. Eye blinks! I tell sleepless parents of newborns that they grow up fast. I never thought that I would be like one of those parents. I never imagined this day would come so fast when I held my little baby in my arms for the first time 18 years ago.

Angel, my mom, and I went to the spa this morning. The distant thunder relaxed me more than the soothing music did. Then we went out to eat. Afterwards, we went to the mall to start buying Angel some items for college. Shopping is so boring that it tries my patience. After awhile I just wanted to run out of there screaming. There is so much to see, my senses overwhelm me. I felt tired and needed to rest. I have more energy running a marathon than I do for shopping. Okay, okay…Half marathon.. Let’s just say that I have a low tolerance for malls. 

I really wish there was such a thing as a blog when my kids were really little. Maybe I could’ve vented about potty training or temper tantrums. I always told myself that I would keep up with writing a diary all through my kids early years, but I only wrote an entry or two total. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day. A lot of the day to day memories are gone already. Forgotten.

With that being said, I have decided to write a very short series entitled 911, poison control, and other parenting mishaps to write about the most comical things that have happened over the years. Not only will it be funny, but I will be able to write the stories down to remember forever. 

Happy 18th birthday to my adult child, Angel! I am excited to see what the future holds as she holds the pen to write the very first chapter of her adult life. 

XOXXO