A Midwesterner’s (changed) view of California

There are so many misconceptions I had about California before I actually went there…

1. I would experience an earthquake.

I thought that the likelihood of experiencing an earthquake was high. When I started to relax, I had to remind myself of this possibility. It never happened. I remember in grade school having a teacher tell us that someday an earthquake might send California crashing into the sea. From that point on, I always pictured the outline of CA tearing apart (like folding a paper in half and ripping it along the crease) into the ocean. Didn’t happen..

2. I didn’t expect so much variety of landscape and people.

While we experienced only a small part of CA, we were able to see the desert, mountains, and the ocean. In Wisconsin, our state is pretty flat except on the far western border.We are surrounded by many lakes and rivers, just no ocean. Although we do experience extreme differences in climate with the changing of the seasons our landscape is pretty much the same.

Paul noticed that the people of CA seemed to be very individualistic. People wore some pretty outlandish things and no one stared. In WI, we are all about conformity. Fitting in is pretty easy. All you need to do is wear a regular pair of jeans and buy a Packer shirt. If you move in from out of state, you will be accepted if you dress like this. If you wear outlandish clothing, and don’t own Packer’s clothing, you will be mistrusted and talked about. If you are a man, you have to be a Packer fan.

Every time we leave the state, people ask us about the Packers. Like I would know… Frankly (don’t tell anyone) I could care less about football. Doesn’t anybody know anything else about our great state??

3. People that live in CA are health nuts.

I bought a pair of sunglasses for the trip and noticed that it had a warning that according to CA law the glasses contained materials that caused cancer. What was I getting myself into? Will I be surrounded by judgmental health nuts? I didn’t find that to be the case at all. I think that because the weather is ideal year round that more people get out and exercise.

I didn’t see any obese people in CA.

While we were waiting for the plane, Paul said that he knew we were flying back to WI just by looking at all of the overweight people waiting for the plane. WI is a very obese state. Our diet consists strongly of brats, cheese, and beer. For a majority of the year, it is difficult to buy fresh fruit and vegetables because the quality is so poor. We have excellent weather conditions 3 months of the year. Only the die hard fitness fanatics have what it takes to exercise indoors on a treadmill for several months straight. Plus with the major lack of sunlight, it is hard to be motivated while we are fighting off seasonal depression. Most of our elderly suffer from obesity caused illnesses such as diabetes. Many have a hard time walking around carrying their weight.

We pride ourselves on being hardy to handle cold winters. We are also hard working. But honestly, there really is not much else to do.

4. People in CA are beautiful, rich, and talk differently from us.

I find it funny that a lot of my stereotypes of CA are perpetuated by CA itself. Even the most beautiful and talented Midwestern girls are told that they don’t have what it takes to compete with a California girl. The CA girls are very beautiful and if they are not they have plastic surgeons to make them more beautiful. Again, not true although it keeps a lot of our beauty and talent in the Midwest.

There were rich people and poor people in CA just like there are here…They just have a higher cost of living.

I thought that I would hear at least one person say, “Like, gag me with a spoon.” Nope! They talked very similar to us. More similar than our southern or east coast friends.

Although I would have to say that WI and Upper Michigan has their own dialect.

First of all, if you are visiting here, it is a bubbler not a water fountain. A water fountain is what we throw pennies into, a bubbler is what we drink out of. You may hear someone say ‘yous guys’ for a plural of you. Then replace the “th” with a “d” and wallah. The becomes da, there becomes dere, this becomes dis, and them becomes dem.

This would be an acceptable sentence. “How about dem Packers?” “Did yous guys have fun dere or no?” We typically throw in an ‘or no’ at the end of our questions. “What did yah do dere?” Yah could be a singular form of you or it could mean yes. “How do yah like dem dere cheese curds?” “Not bad, huh?” Not everyone talks this way, but we all know someone who does and we understand.

I really enjoyed comparing the differences in culture. Someday I hope I get the opportunity to explore the rest of California..

 

Just a stranger on a plane

Sometimes you meet someone for a brief moment in time that influences your life. Maybe just a small thought can lead to an almost immeasurable change in life’s course which over time can lead to measurable inspiration towards positive growth. Every day life is my classroom.  

I struck a conversation with the 60 year old man next to me, just a stranger on a plane.  

I tend to seek advice from older men. Maybe because in my life good advice is so lacking. This week my dad gave me a bit of advice. I was on the phone with my mom and he had to interrupt to tell me something important. I’ll try to make it as PG-13 as I can. He said something like try to have as much sex as you can. Wow, dad, thanks for the words of wisdom! As I mentioned previously, my husband Paul doesn’t have a dad. He has a step-dad Darryl. Darryl has two grown sons, both spent a great deal of their adult life in prison. So, I’ll pass on the parenting advice…thanks anyway, Darryl.

So I seek out any words of wisdom I can find from a knowledgeable older man. I seek the lifetime accumulation of nuggets of gold. I also find that older men tend to gravitate towards me. They talk to me candidly about things I could use some wise guidance on, like parenting. Things they did right and things they learned from being wrong. 

About parenting, he said that the first ten years of your child’s life are physically exhausting. From 10 to 20 years of age, parenting is emotionally exhausting. Then from 20 to 30, parenting is financially exhausting. I thought about how true his words were. He didn’t give me a clue about what things are like after 30 though. Probably because his oldest was turning 30. By the time my kids turn 30 I probably would have forgotten anyway.

I told him how much I worry about my kids. He told me that he was glad to hear that I knew what I needed to improve upon. Hmmm, what an interesting concept.

What does worry do for me anyway? 

It shows me how little control I have.

It takes away my joy.

How is anything going to change if I worry? Do I need the solution for everything that could go wrong? Do I need to have the answer for every ‘what if’ scenario that plays out in my mind? Will that somehow magically give me peace if the worst case scenario really happens? 

I am going to try to worry less. 

It has always been a struggle for me..

Just a few thoughts from a stranger on a plane. 

Pondering purpose and moving mountains

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Do you know what your purpose is in life? How hard would it be to move mountains?

These are my deep thoughts as I sit on the hotel balcony enjoying the lovely view in California.

I started pondering my purpose on the plane ride over. I am an anxious flyer, but I knew I was safe because I was with Paul. Not that he necessarily makes me feel safe, but because I know that God has a greater plan for his life.

But why don’t I feel like that about myself?? That there isn’t a great plan for me? 

What if the purpose of my life is to bear a child that would bear a child that would make a huge positive impact on the world? What if that is my sole purpose? Would I be okay with that? 

What if I was meant to support someone else that would make a difference in the world but never have a huge positive impact myself?

Do all lives have meaning?? What about the quadriplegic? Someone who is declining into dementia?? What about someone with autism? There are some who would say that they are not a valuable member of society if they are not a productive member of society.

But I don’t think that that is true. Carrying for a disabled family member, although burdensome at times, has positively impacted my life. Let me repeat that. Someone deemed by society as not having purpose has changed my life. 

While I sit at the conference, I listen to the keynote speaker talk about leadership and being a positive change in the world. There are a few people here that I think will do it. Then I walk down the hotel corridor and a cleaning lady smiles at me. Maybe changing the world doesn’t always mean moving mountains. Maybe it’s just a smile or kind word when someone needs it. Helping others..

Even though I am middle aged, sometimes I still ponder the purpose of my life. Am I doing what I am supposed to do? Am I on the right path? Does my life line follow the right projectory for positive growth?

There are a few people, like Paul, that are capable of moving mountains…that seem to have a special purpose. Then there are others, like me, still trying to figure things out.

Do you know your purpose in life? Does it change over time? Or are you still trying to figure things out?

Enjoying the present

I decided to not audition for the next community theater musical. 

Oh, I am not afraid of being on stage. I have many fears, but that is not one of them. I find public speaking and performing fascinating. 

I decided to give it up to watch Angel perform in her first college concert. She told me that she was going to be given solos that are only typically given to seniors. Watching your child perform is as exciting as performing yourself with a lot less work. 

I wish my grandma was alive to see her perform. Angel and I got my grandma’s voice. I feel very sad that I don’t have a recording of my grandma singing. With an 8th grade education, my grandma never had the opportunity to use her gift. She never sang in a choir or sang a solo in public, but she could’ve been an opera singer. She just sang to soothe her tired or crying grandchildren or in church with everyone else. The only thing she was able to do was to pass it on to future generations.

This past weekend, I was looking through old pictures with Arabella. She wanted to know who was holding her in a photo. She didn’t recognize my grandma. My children don’t know much about some of the most influential people in my life. My grandparents, Uncle Harold, and Aunt Grace shaped me into the person that I am today. 

This weekend we took the dock out of water up north. It is sad to say good-bye to the cabin until next May. My great-grandparents built the cabin in the 1950’s. What a gift! But after reflection I found that I didn’t know a lot about the giver.

I know small tidbits about my great-grandparents. Little facts, but nothing about who they really were. I know for a fact that I couldn’t pick out the pictures of all of my greats if they were in a lineup with other photos. I might have their nose, but not know them..

How soon we are forgotten. Time moves so fast. When I was a child, a day seemed long. Now a day is nothing. 

These have been my thoughts lately. 

I am so thankful for the gifts passed on to me, but so sad that I know nothing of the gift giver. It is a strange type of nostalgia. I don’t want their memory to fade like an old picture in an album. But I can’t seem to grasp onto them anymore.

Instead, I will enjoy the present…the gifts we have been given. 

There will always be another play. 

200 followers!!

 

I just want to say thank you. 

Thank you for following my story.

I am not a celebrity. I am not famous. I’ve never been popular.

I don’t use fancy clip art or moving images. Once in awhile I’ll share a few photos I took. 

My site doesn’t have all the bells and whistles. I’m barely computer literate. I don’t have an IQ of 152.

Thank you for taking a chance on me, for clicking the follow button.

I’m glad you are on this journey with me.

Thank you!

 

Summer, don’t leave me too!

The Canadian geese are flying south. Just like that a light switch was turned off. Summer is ending.

I always have a hard time this time of year. It’s not that I don’t like the changing of the seasons. It’s just that I live for summer. I love the warm weather and sunshine.

Now all of my kids are back in school. I had to say good-bye to my oldest child for the first time when I sent her off to college. It wasn’t just like saying good-bye to a child, it was saying good-bye to a friend. Over the past few years, the active parenting ended and a friendship began. I hope it will be like that with all of my children.

Out of all of the people living on this Earth, my daughter Angel is the most like me. She looks just like me. She has my mannerisms. We have very similar personalities, viewpoints, morals, and taste. We are both firstborns. We relate on all levels. Sometimes I think that she is an unjaded version of me. She is what I could’ve been. People have asked before if she is my clone. It was hard to let go.

My son Alex takes after my side of the family in everything but looks. Because of this, I understand him. Arabella is completely alien to me. We have nothing in common. To be totally honest, this has been a struggle for me. Sometimes we clash instead of click. It just doesn’t seem fair!

The morning after dropping off Angel at college, my husband went away on a week long sailing trip with friends. He will be back home tonight. This has made things more stressful for me at home and at work.

At first, I was fine. It seems like it takes me a few days to process my emotions.

Monday the anxiety and worry hit me hard. It probably didn’t help that I checked my phone before going to bed and noticed that Alex was not at his friend’s house that he was staying overnight at. Apparently they got bored and decided to aimlessly drive around much to my disappointment since I was the one filling up the tank with gas.

I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I waited until Alex got back to his friend’s house on my phone. Then I still couldn’t sleep because I stirred up the demon of my relationship with my dad. I didn’t realize that it upset me as much as it did. Of course, it is probably not wise to stir up painful moments in my life when I am feeling so emotional about my daughter leaving. My anxiety was through the roof and it kept me from sleeping most of the night.

The next morning I felt exhausted and depressed. I had to man the office by myself all day. Work was very busy and I didn’t feel like doing it. When I feel that way, I want to give up everything. I want to quit running. I want to stop blogging. I want to curl up in a ball and totally shut down. I will never do that though, somehow my mind beats out my heart every time. I don’t let myself shut down or even relax.

I will never give up this blog without telling people I am leaving. I am one of the least impulsive people I know. I am cold and calculating. I am schedule and routine. I am all or nothing. I overthink and underfeel. Like it or not, that is how I am. Yet somehow I can still manage to be fun.

Change has always been difficult for me, even if it is for the better. I have accepted that my daughter left home. It has to be a good thing for me because it is good for her.

Now I just have to accept that summer is over. This weekend we are shutting down the cabin for the season. The water will soon be too cold to swim in. By next month, we will be taking the sailboat out of water. The first few flurries will start to fall. My long outdoor runs will have to take place indoors on a treadmill.

Summer, please don’t leave me too!!

But I can’t look at it that way!

I have to be happy that my daughter is starting the future of her dreams. I still have other kids at home to bond with. I am married to a wonderful, adventurous man.

I have to look forward to crisp autumn days. Cool evenings spent in my hot tub gazing at the stars. Bonfires with friends. Photographing the beauty of the trees changing color. Reading cold psychological thrillers wrapped in a warm blanket. And having plenty of time to write…

Give me a ring

Do you remember when we used to know telephone numbers?

It struck me the other day that we don’t while I was talking to a client on the phone. I asked her for the best way to contact her. She didn’t remember her cell phone number. She had to look it up on her phone. I thought that was kind of ridiculous.

Then I remembered that I didn’t know the cell numbers of my own children. Okay, I do know one because that number used to be mine.

But I do remember the phone numbers of my long deceased relatives. I will never forget them, but I don’t know the numbers of my own kids.

After my grandma passed away, I was tempted to call her number. I couldn’t seem to get it out of my mind that the number she had for my whole life was gone. She is gone. But I don’t know how to call my daughter.

What has happened to society? Does not having to memorize numbers make our lives that much easier?? It didn’t seem that way for the boater that we rescued last summer. He was stuck out hours from shore without even having a phone. After we found him and offered warm clothes and a beer, we gave him a cell phone to call for help. It took him a very long time before he could find a number to call because he was without his contacts. He ended up having to google a website to get the number of someone that he knew. I found that to be wonderfully sad.

Life is so much easier now that we don’t have to remember numbers. Well, as long as we don’t forget our phone. No worries, I can’t seem to live without my phone either. It’s not just my phone. It’s my camera, work portal, book, encyclopedia, doctor, map, news, friend, and my life. It is at my side more than my husband. I gaze at it for hours. It mesmerizes me.

But sometimes for a few short minutes, I long to be free from its hold. I want to go back to simpler days. Back to the rotary phone that was tethered by a cord. Ok, maybe not that far back! How about the first car bag phone? That was the phone that blew out my fuse on my first car every time I plugged it into the lighter. Or how about my first flip phone that I kept because it still has the last pictures of my grandma on it? The old land line that occasionally rang at midnight with no one there? Okay, maybe those days weren’t that great after all!

Now that I have my phone, I can’t fathom living without it. I wonder how many nights girls wasted sitting next to the phone?? Those days are gone. I can’t say I miss it, however sometimes I fantasize about being totally inaccessible. I don’t want to worry about work problems over the weekend. Some days I just want to unplug and commune with nature. Enjoy the silence. Old fashioned boredom. 

Maybe I should put that on my bucket list…   

Road trip

Angel and I decided to go on a little road trip.

Tomorrow is Angel’s freshman college orientation. Then we are heading to Wisconsin Dells for one full day at the water park. We are ending the road trip with my cousin’s wedding in Milwaukee this weekend. 

It was a long and fairly uneventful several hour drive to Angel’s new home. We saw the smallest little Bambi come out to us in the middle of the road without hitting it. We saw Amish children working in their gardens while the Amish men were working their fields with several large horses. I saw a very large man cross the road to get his mail in shorts. Little images stick in my head from the road. The men at the first stop and go light holding signs asking for change for a burger wearing better clothes than mine. The waitress at the restaurant who exchanged numbers with my daughter because they would be attending the same college together for the first time in the fall. The rest was a blur of people, places, and things but mainly fields. Field after field as we wound through small towns.

I left a list behind. A list of things that I do. Chores that need to be done on certain days. I entertain this fantasy that the others can’t live a few days without me. You would be proud of me, I let go of perfectionism when it comes to chores. I let the kids help out. I give them chore lists. I also implemented a cooking rotation. The kids get to pick out the recipe, shop for ingredients, help make the food, and clean up one day a week one kid at a time. I have given up a lot of control.

I remember a conversation with the mom of Alex’s first girlfriend. She told me that she does not allow her children to do anything because they don’t do it up to her standards. No laundry, no cleaning, and absolutely no cooking. She said that she was OCD that way. I thought about the words she said for a long time, in fact longer than the relationship lasted. I thought that I didn’t want my kids to end up marrying someone that didn’t know how to do anything. Then I pointed the finger back at myself because I really was the same way. I never wanted my kids to do anything either because it really wasn’t perfect enough. How is that going to prepare them for the future?? It doesn’t. So I decided to let go.

I give them chores and I look the other way when it is not clean enough. Sometimes I rewash the dishes. Some of my kids seem to realize that their lack of cleanliness bothers me. Sometimes they do a crappy job in hopes that they will no longer be asked. But it doesn’t work that way. 

I think that everyone will survive just fine without me for a few days. After all, they will be living a long adulthood without mommy being there to clean up their messes. 

I am planning on enjoying this road trip and spending some time with my daughter as adults all alone on an adventure…

My friends…

Sometimes I wonder, I sit and think. 

I have 3 close friends. None of them know that I have this blog. You probably know more about me then they do. Isn’t that funny? 

I am a private person, although it probably doesn’t seem that way to you.

Sometimes I wonder if they stumbled across my blog, would they like me?

Would they like the real me? 

Success or failure?

“Your success or failure is in your own mind!”- Think and Grow Rich

Yesterday my mom and I got a massage together. Before the massage I received a positive affirmation (the quote above). It really made me think. So while I was lying on the table, I thought about the quote and the words I would write in response.

Success? Failure? It made me think a little about my first marathon that I ran last summer. When I think about it, my mind thinks that I was a failure. I didn’t get the time that I wanted. To me that equates with failure. The first 3 hours were great, in fact I was quite successful. Then I hurt my knee. I spent the next 3 hours walking the last 8 miles in moderate to extreme pain. Besides childbirth, those 3 hours were the most physically painful hours I have ever experienced in my life. But I finished the marathon.

Did I achieve success or failure? When I crossed the finish line I entered the ranks of the 1 in 200 US citizens that completes a marathon. If I look at it that way, I feel successful. It was something I earned. It is rarer than being left handed (8 out of 100) or having AB blood type (3 out of 100) both of which groups I was born into. Most people would view my completion of a marathon a success even if in my mind I feel like I am a failure.

I am 41 years old. Am I old? I would bet that most of you that are quite a bit younger would say that I am old. Those of you that are older, think that I am young. Most people around my age are thinking that I am not terribly old. It is all about perspective. We judge others by ourselves. I can’t seem to escape the perspective of my own mind. I could look only at statistics, but not for very long before my own judgments sneak in.

I might think that I am rather smart. But I wouldn’t feel that way if I was constantly surrounded by geniuses. I judge your writing by my writing. I judge your age by my age. If I am bad at something, I will think that you are good. If I am good at something, I will be a harsher critic. I judge everything by my own yardstick. Your beauty, age, intelligence, income level, etc is all about me.  

Back in the beginning of January, I uploaded a video of Angel and I singing. I didn’t show our faces, just a blank screen. If you were to listen to it, I am sure that everyone would have an entirely different perspective. Some would think that Angel is a better singer (she is). Some would point out every error. Some would be able to hear the differences in our voices, some would not. 

If only we could get outside of our own mind. But how can that be done? I can be empathetic and relate to you for a short period of time, then I find myself back in my own head again. I can’t escape myself for very long. My needs, wants, stereotypes, thoughts, feelings, strengths, weaknesses, judgments, and life experiences cloud my ability to see you. 

Wow, that is pretty deep for a Saturday afternoon.