How Do I Make This Important?

Almost 11 months have passed since my last posting. How do I make this blog a priority? Or is it important? I've been an official "empty nester" since the end of August when Brad and I dropped Laura off at BYU. And life is different. It's much too quiet!

Maybe that's why this is important. This blog is a way to bring some of the noise back into my life. Brad is great company, and we had a fun fall, highlighted by a two-week trip to Spain. But the quiet is still here. I'm watching way too much TV, not because the programming is so great, but there is a little sound. Did you know that Bonnie Hunt has a talk show? You know, the actress in "Dave" -- "We're walking, we're walking. . ." One of my favorite movie lines. I have seen so many episodes of "NCIS," that now I've turned my attention to "Bones." Maybe I should have been a crime scene investigator. Is is too late?

I know my TV watching is driving Brad a little crazy. He sits in the living room while I watch and he reads a book. He's read almost all the books he got for Christmas.

So what's a mother to do? When Jeff was home for Christmas, he said I needed some hobbies. Hobbies!? Stamp collecting? Interior decorating? Languages? Japanese cooking?

This is a time of discovery. I can't live vicariously through Leslie's semester abroad in Jerusalem or Jeff's to New Zealand. I have to find the "noise" in my own life. A new life that doesn't include taking care of kids in the same way as when they lived at home. As I write this, it's started to sound kind of exciting.

Stay tuned. The journey begins today.

It's all relative

For some reason I keep coming back to the issue of "cold." My friend Sue shared the following with me, giving a welcome perspective on Michigan winters. It's even funnier when read aloud to a friend.

65 above zero:
Floridians turn on the heat.
People in Michigan plant gardens.

60 above zero:
Californians shiver uncontrollably.
People in Michigan sunbathe.

50 above zero:
Italian & English cars won't start.
People in Michigan drive with the windows down.

40 above zero:
Georgians don coats, thermal underwear, gloves, wool hats.
People in Michigan throw on a flannel shirt.

35 above zero:
New York landlords finally turn up the heat.
People in Michigan have the last cookout before it gets cold.

20 above zero:
People in Miami all die.
Michiganders close the windows.

Zero:
Californians fly away to Mexico.
People in Michigan get out their winter coats.

10 below zero:
Hollywood disintegrates.
The Girl Scouts in Michigan are selling cookies door to door.

20 below zero:
Washington DC runs out of hot air.
People in Michigan let the dogs sleep indoors.

30 below zero:
Santa Claus abandons the North Pole.
Michiganders get upset because they can't start the Snow-mobile.

40 below zero:
ALL atomic motion stops.
People in Michigan start saying...'Cold enough fer ya?'

50 below zero:
Hell freezes over.
Michigan public schools will open 2 hours late

Picture this

One of the things I've discovered if I'm going to be serious about blogging is I have to have my camera with me at all times. Learning to use it is another issue. Brad gave me a camera for Christmas this year, and I'm getting better all the time. I'm also going to have to get over my deep desire not to have my own picture taken. Brad loves to take pictures and is a great photographer, but I have been an unwilling participant for most of our married life. It's not hard for me to to know why. I have spent most of my adult life on or off a diet, leaving my body image pretty scrambled.

I lost a lot of weight last year, so there are lots of pictures of me. I think the last time I willingly had a picture taken was in 1996 or 1997 when I'd lost weight again. There are maybe a few months in the previous dozen years when I felt like my weight was under control--usually those few months after I had a baby. For whatever reason, I took better care of myself when I was pregnant, and I always looked pretty good after the baby came.

The last few months I've been meaning to go back to Weight Watchers tomorrow because I've gone back to my bad eating habits. I went walking with my friend Linda last week, and we talked about why it should be embarrassing to face the people at Weight Watchers. A good question, with a not so good answer. My sister-in-law Pat asked me recently why we can't seem to stay with the program on our own? I told her I have no idea, but it's got to be why WW is still in business after almost 50 years.

It's not unusual that any topic I raise often goes back to my weight, but I really do want to be the subject of my blogging life. That means I'm going to have to put my picture out there. This also means that "tomorrow" starts today. Diane, my Weight Watcher lecturer, has a class tomorrow morning. If I can face her, I might be ready to get back on the road to having my picture taken again. Let me go find my camera.

More questions that answers

Lifting, plumping, hydrating, firming, restoring, renewing. The skin care choices and promises available for women my age seem endless. My sister had a dermatologist friend inject her with Botox, and it took four months for her eyebrows to match again. Not an option. So I went to Target on Saturday to get some clarity, but I came away with more questions and even more uncertainty about what product would provide the best result.

Retinol? SPF? Antioxidants? Amino Peptides? Vitamin C? Botanicals? Fragrance? Fragrance-free? I tried my teenage daughter's Retin A for a while last year after a friend said it was the best choice for wrinkles. I thought my skin would never stop burning and peeling. There had to be a hundred different creams, ointments, and serums to choose from at Target. Do I buy by price? How about size? Or by the amount of time to see "results"? Night cream? Day cream? I scream!

I'm even more frustrated that my wrinkle-free quest is complicated by mature breakouts. Zits! I decided on a Neutrogena product because it had the words "age-reverse" on it. Not very scientific but somehow satisfying for now. I'm sure this adventure will be continued.

Not the Sound of Music

Last night Brad, Laura and I went to see Spamalot. I bought the tickets last fall and told Brad just to save the evening. Luckily, we talked about it over dinner last week, because I had remembered the wrong date. If we'd gone with my memory (which is sketchier every day), we would have missed the show by a week. Laura guessed we were going to a show and blurted out, Spamalot? So much for my surprise.

Laura and I actually saw Spamalot while were in New York City in October on a college visit to NYU. The show is based on the 70s movie, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," one of Brad's favorite movies that he shared with Laura. After seeing Madame Butterfly at the Met (my choice), Laura and I walked to TKTS at the South Street Seaport the next morning to see what tickets were available that night. It came down to "Little Mermaid" and "Spamalot." It's was Laura's turn to choose. After spending the day walking all over Manhatten in the pouring rain, we arrived at the theater just in time for the show. The Knights who say Ni, the Black Knight, Tim the Enchanter, and the evil rabbit--they were all there. American Idol runner-up Clay Aiken had the role of Sir Robin, but it was Merle Dandridge's Lady of the Lake who stole the show with "The Song That Goes Like This" and "The Diva's Lament."

(An aside--even though Laura loved NYU, she decided, not me, that it didn't make sense to go to such an expensive school when she doesn't know what she wants to study in college. Saved again! Maybe grad school.)

Spamalot is completely irreverent, and I knew Brad would like it. When I saw it was coming to Detroit in February, I bought the tickets that same day. As we arrived at the Fisher Theater last night, the marquee announced that Richard Chamberlain was featured as King Arthur. Yes, the Richard Chamberlain of the 1960s "Dr. Kildare." Again, the featured star was upstaged by the actor who played the taunting French soldier and Sir Lancelot. Laura and I were also surprised that Merle Dandridge had left Broadway to join this road production. It was great to laugh and to laugh with a whole theater full of people. Brad is not the biggest fan of musical theater. There's just something about people breaking into song that he doesn't always appreciate. I knew this would be an exception because it makes fun of all the things that he makes fun of. A good time was had by all.

It's Still Winter. . .

When Brad I got married 25 years ago, he promised that we would never live anywhere that I had to wear a hat. I just don't have the hair or head for a hat. Part of our honeymoon was actually visiting schools that Brad was interested in doing graduate work (how romantic!). As we drove into Ithaca, New York, for his interview at Cornell in the middle of March, the snow began to fall. We had visited Duke University earlier in February, and the cherry blossoms were in bloom. Ithaca? Durham? Of course, the choice was easy, and we spent the next 16 years in North Carolina.

But the promise was broken nine and half years ago, when we moved to Michigan.

This winter we haven't seen the grass since Christmas, with record-breaking snows and freezing days and nights. After a couple of days last week of temperatures almost 60 degrees, the five-foot snow piles at the end of driveway finally melted away. Even though we expected a little snow last night, I was shocked to see the ground completely snow-covered again! I know it's only the second week of February. I really shouldn't have been shocked. But I was hopeful. Oh well, the hood on my coat is back up (I still can't wear a hat).

Why now?

This morning my daughter, Laura, announced that she'd been accepted at BYU for next fall. I am so excited for her, because I know this is what she's wanted. But then her announcement became about me. How can let my last child leave home? What will I do in the months and years ahead home alone with my husband?! How will we afford to support three children in college at the same time? Will I need to get a job? How will I keep busy? Will my kids only text (since no one seems to call anymore) when they need money?

In those few moments I realized that I am entering another phase in my life -- the empty nest. I "googled" images of empty nests and didn't like what I saw -- circular piles of sticks abandoned by the birds that had once lived there. I decided immediately that was not going to be the image for this blog or for my life. I want my empty nest to be filled with all the things that I've put off while I've been raising children-- reconnecting with friends, expanding interests, making personal discoveries, keeping up with family, reading, writing, traveling, having my own car, and more that I'll figure out as time goes on.

So why blog? I went to a workshop last weekend about blogging, and while I've shied away from it (run away from is probably more accurate), I feel like blogging might be a great way to track my own thoughts and to get input from others who have something to say about this strange time in life. My natural inclination is not to put my feelings out there for all to see, but I decided I want to share this time with my family and friends. So here goes. I'm doing it