tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52801992290409128932023-11-16T07:19:56.616-05:00Peace of MindLife...As I see it!Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-48313805039677452302014-10-02T10:59:00.001-04:002014-10-02T10:59:26.960-04:00Mom in Transition - Intro
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<br />
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For the past few years, I have been searching for someone.
She’s about 5’6”, blonde hair, hazel eyes. She pops in and out of my life,
showing herself every once in a while but always just out of reach. I know she's here somewhere, she just needs some encouragement to come out and show herself. Who am I
looking for? Myself. Have you seen me?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh, not the woman who’s been around for the past 23+ years –
mom, wife, chauffeur, PTO member, Church volunteer, homework helper, shoulder
to cry on. No, she’s great but she’s not who I’m searching for. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m looking for that other woman. The one who loves to read
and write; whose friends swore she’d be an anchor on the local news station;
who couldn’t imagine getting old. The one who is turning 48 in a few days but
swears she was just 25 a few months ago.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Truthfully, I’m not sure I even know her. She’s been buried
under some <i>wonderful</i> titles (see above) but I think it’s about time I find out
more about her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve had an incredible life so far doing exactly what I
always thought I’d do – be a mom to some pretty great kids. And now, those
great kids are grown up and I’m finding myself in a bit of a dilemma. I’ve got
to find <i>myself</i> again. I’ve got to figure out who Kathleen Marie Welsh Kopp will
be for the next stage of her life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been so busy being a mom and wife, and reacting to life<b><i>, I’ve
let life determine who I am </i></b>rather than the other way around.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well no more! I declare it’s my turn. I’ve already started
my journey and I invite you to join me. Who are you looking for? That girl who
always wanted to be a worldwide traveler? That woman who thought she’d be a
great actress? That young lady who always wanted to write a book? That young man
who thought he could be his own boss? That boy who thought he’d be a
professional athlete?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well guess what? It’s your turn too. Let’s do this together.
Let’s look at each area of our lives and discover who we want to be from now
on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vs6JGwnds_N_rn00ui5bQO2xltHGG4bkgIuy6cw1aPQqXhmkQ1WTwSqNkauavy9pRqikuvEiibcTVdw-q1FFBAAcVDV0zr224xLEnyhro8Xzuph_j84z5oGNUwx8txQiEDwZVTmZWpHC/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vs6JGwnds_N_rn00ui5bQO2xltHGG4bkgIuy6cw1aPQqXhmkQ1WTwSqNkauavy9pRqikuvEiibcTVdw-q1FFBAAcVDV0zr224xLEnyhro8Xzuph_j84z5oGNUwx8txQiEDwZVTmZWpHC/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the next month, I’m going to examine and explore every
area of my life – from the food I eat to the people I socialize with to the
clothes I wear. <b><i>I’m going to look at my past so I can figure out my future.</i></b> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who’s with me?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-50123208804946151422014-09-02T09:45:00.000-04:002014-09-02T09:45:53.402-04:00Change can be a good thing, right?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZdepP7WmRMFPYxlg4OKwPtSmYEBgu8FyIp2wWJv9rjZL1xpYLXUchYLS6cpfGq50Qe30kO-3YadlfTYWIxCSxBgOw1rIUr0Fn_YcHo7_6utpicpfGKgJaJDuB5DYwJiw5o6ocJ743y_g/s1600/Change+Ahead.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZdepP7WmRMFPYxlg4OKwPtSmYEBgu8FyIp2wWJv9rjZL1xpYLXUchYLS6cpfGq50Qe30kO-3YadlfTYWIxCSxBgOw1rIUr0Fn_YcHo7_6utpicpfGKgJaJDuB5DYwJiw5o6ocJ743y_g/s1600/Change+Ahead.jpeg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I remember my first day of grade school. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We lived very close to school – I could hear the bell ring
from our back yard – so I walked to school that September morning so long ago,
holding my mother’s hand tightly. Even back then I didn’t like change. I wished
desperately I was staying home with my mom, helping her hang laundry and clean
up the breakfast dishes. (After 20 years of having a little one under foot, my
mother wished I would walk a little faster, I’m sure!) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My teacher was Sr. Charles Marie and, even at five years of
age, I had heard horror stories about her. And she didn’t disappoint. There she
stood, tall (for a five year old) and imposing in her black habit and veil
covering her hair. When she took my hand from my mother’s, I couldn’t help but notice
her hands were not nearly as warm or comforting. With tears in my eyes, I
watched my mom’s back as she walked home without me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were lined up and told to be quiet, which I’m sure was
unnecessary, at least for me, as I hadn’t said a word since I saw my mother
leave. We marched by two’s into the school and so began for me 16 years of
Catholic school education. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(By the way, Sr. Charles more than lived up to her
reputation. Her number one rule:
no erasing – even though we wrote in pencil and were in first
grade! The punishment? The page
was ripped out and all work had to be done over again – neatly and
cleanly. One infamous event even
necessitated a phone call to the principal from my mother - unheard of in our
family as we were repeatedly told the teacher was always right! Our class was
kept after school until 5:00 because no one admitted to throwing out a tuna
fish sandwich at lunch. Not only was my mother incensed that first graders had
to stay so late, but she couldn’t imagine why I was being held for detention
when I didn’t even stay for lunch and therefore couldn’t have been the
culprit!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I made it through Sr. Charles and first grade, and seven
more grades, before moving on to the local high school in ninth grade.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I remember my first day of high school. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Again, let me remind you that I was the youngest of six
children and my mother was an old hand at saving money any way she could. Her
theory when buying uniforms (and clothes in general) was the bigger it was, the
longer it would last you. That’s why I started my high school career wearing an
XL uniform (never mind that I was five feet tall and weighed 95 pounds soaking
wet).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not only was the uniform big but it was also hot. The high
school did have a summer uniform but my mom was not going to waste good money
on a uniform that I would only wear a handful of times. (She finally relented
in my Sophomore year when the sweat stains in my long-sleeve blouses became too
much to get out.) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I made it through 12 years of uniforms and hot classrooms
and, to my delight, was given a full scholarship to a local college to study English/communications.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I remember my first day of college.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was commuting and so would be home every day, but our
orientation required everyone stay overnight for one night. One night! So,
reminiscent of my first day of first grade, I walked to school with my mother
and cried when she left! Some things never change. (Have I mentioned I don’t
like change?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What do all these first days have in common? They
demonstrate that, despite my intense dislike of change, and the many challenges
I faced during these first days, I not only completed 16 years of school, but I
excelled as well. Change isn’t all
bad then, is it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the past few weeks, I have sent my son off to his first
job, my daughter off to her first year of college and my youngest off to her
first day of high school. That’s a lot of firsts, and a lot of change. I have
cried with them, consoled them and commiserated with them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I remind them, and myself, that change is necessary and
change can be good. So here’s to all the firsts and changes we are all
experiencing these days. May we appreciate them – good and bad – and learn and
grow from them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we
don’t grow, we aren’t really living</span></i></b>. (Gail Sheehy).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-42212782610343167782014-07-24T09:15:00.000-04:002014-07-24T09:15:59.063-04:00Stop and smell the sunflowersDespite what my mother told me (every summer for years), summer is NOT over when Fourth of July gets here. (Although it often feels like it!) But summer does seem to fly by, despite my best efforts to slow it down.<br />
<br />
If my calculations are correct (and keep in mind I was an English major in college for a reason), summer is about half way over. As depressing as that thought is, I am taking it as a wake up call.<br />
<br />
It's time to stop and smell the roses, or sunflowers, as the case may be!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRgwo4tQ0F8G_l36Ch4Bd6WLCyXkAp8e0p_Sp5f6PhgGqd1buREKhuY8hPyIdYUAQCSp9mJKBWGPLCxhUFEDKLum-Dr5rD2qHEb4ThShvdjSvXP5O3ExZL43rBwKuG_n_o8DUgZeSIWpd/s1600/Sunflower.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRgwo4tQ0F8G_l36Ch4Bd6WLCyXkAp8e0p_Sp5f6PhgGqd1buREKhuY8hPyIdYUAQCSp9mJKBWGPLCxhUFEDKLum-Dr5rD2qHEb4ThShvdjSvXP5O3ExZL43rBwKuG_n_o8DUgZeSIWpd/s1600/Sunflower.JPG" height="320" width="296" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Have you taken advantage of all that summer has to offer?<br />
<br />
Have you:<br />
<br />
-Visited your local Farmer's Market?<br />
-Taken a bike ride?<br />
-Watched the sunset?<br />
-Watched the sunrise?<br />
-Swam in a pool? Lake? Ocean?<br />
-Built a sandcastle?<br />
-Bought lemonade from a neighborhood stand?<br />
-Ridden a roller coaster?<br />
-Read a good, trashy book?<br />
-Slept in?<br />
-Stayed up late?<br />
-Roasted marshmallows?<br />
-Visited a fair or carnival?<br />
-Lost track of the days?<br />
-Put away your make-up?<br />
-Baked a pie?<br />
-Visited a pick-your-own farm?<br />
-Run through a sprinkler?<br />
-Camped out?<br />
-Gone barefoot for the day?<br />
-Caught fireflies (and then let them go, of course :)<br />
-Had ice cream for dinner?<br />
-Created a sidewalk chalk masterpiece?<br />
-Turned off the tv, phone, and computer for the day? The afternoon?<br />
-Gone to a drive-in movie theater?<br />
-Attended a baseball game?<br />
-Made a wish on a star?<br />
-Gone fishing?<br />
-Packed a picnic?<br />
-Gone cloud watching?<br />
-Washed your car?<br />
-Played mini-golf?<br />
-Played on the swings?<br />
-Had a barbecue?<br />
-Gone to the zoo?<br />
-Flagged down the ice cream truck?<br />
-Gone to the park?<br />
-Attended an outdoor concert?<br />
-Eaten a s'more?<br />
<br />
You haven't?<br />
<br />
Well, what are you waiting for? It's the last week of July people! Time is a wastin'!<br />
<br />
So get out there and enjoy summer and all its glory!<br />
<br />
You're welcome!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-82470688826917162692014-07-01T08:05:00.000-04:002014-07-01T08:05:57.063-04:00Letting it go
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Welcome July! (I’m not sure how you got here so quickly, but
I’m happy to see you!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I feel like my summer is officially beginning, despite the
fact that my kids have been out of school for over two weeks and we’ve been
down the shore (for those not from the Southeastern Pennsylvania area, that means at the beach) since
mid-June!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Summer is my favorite season (although fall is a very close
second) and I use the time to not only work on my tan and soak up some Vitamin
D, but also to set some goals and cross things off my bucket list. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this summer is no different. The number one thing I’ve
done so far is adopt a song for the summer <i>~
Let it Go</i>, from the movie <i>Frozen</i>.
(Ironic that my summer song is from a movie about the cold, but that’s another
post for another day!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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I’ve decided to use this summer to “let go” of my
controlling ways. I’m going to (try and) release the need to manage everything
in my path. If I can’t do it in the summer, when the living is supposed to be easy,
then when can I?</div>
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This “Let it go” attitude was tested this
past weekend, when we decided to host a mini-reunion for a group of friends
with whom my husband grew up. I bought the food and cleaned the house, but let
him control the agenda for the day. And every time I tried to take over and
suggest a few things, I stopped and started humming “Let it go” until the urge
passed. (Confession: by the end of the day, we were all sick of that song!)</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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But, and here’s the “aha moment,” the day
went off perfectly and I (eventually) relaxed and enjoyed myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have a feeling I will be sick of this song
in a few weeks, since my family is determined to test my resolve this summer. I
am spending these next few weeks at the beach with my youngest daughter while
my husband commutes on the weekends and my two older children come and go as
their work schedules allows. Yes, it is nice that they are of at that age but
for a control freak, this means I am never sure who will be sleeping where, who
will be having friends down, and when they will be coming/going. But I’m taking
a deep breath and, yes, you guessed it, letting it go. </div>
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So, if you happen to pass
a woman in the grocery store humming that catchy Disney tune rather loudly, feel free to
stop and say hello. I’ll try and keep it down, but no guarantees!<br />
<br />
Happy July everyone! <o:p></o:p></div>
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*Rabbit Rabbit *<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-46907398565539079272014-06-13T16:16:00.000-04:002014-06-13T16:16:28.219-04:0050 Reasons Why I Love JWK
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><b><i>50
Reasons Why I Love My Husband</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">1.
His sense of humor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">2.
His kindness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">3.
His blue eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">4.
His devotion to his children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">5.
His unwillingness to grow up completely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">6.
His support of my writing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">7.
His willingness to put up with my lack of cooking expertise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">8.
His work ethic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">9.
His help with the children when they were younger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">10.
His ability to always make me smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">11.
His love of the beach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">12.
His uncanny ability to always get a good parking spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">13.
His strong arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">14.
His smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">15.
His laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">16.
His willingness to walk the dogs in the rain/snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">17.
He always put his family first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">18.
He tries to understand his girls, despite growing up without sisters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">19.
He puts up with my crazy ideas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">20.
His ability to stay calm when I’m freaking out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">21.
His love of sports.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">22.
His willingness to kill bugs and spiders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">23.
His strong lawn-cutting skills!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">24.
He values my job as a mother and wife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">25.
He encourages and guides our children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">26.
His kindness toward others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">27.
He’s a great leader.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">28.
His sentimentality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">29.
His ability to make others laugh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">30.
He doesn’t take himself too seriously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">31.
His intuition when it comes to knowing people/situations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">32.
His gentlemanly ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">33.
His willingness to have the TV on every night before we go to bed because I
can’t sleep without it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">34.
His willingness to stay awake at night and talk me down when I’m on the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">35.
His fantastic grilling abilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">36.
His great breakfasts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">37.
He fills up my car with gas when it’s low – without me asking!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">38.
His hugs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">39.
His patience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">40.
His fantastic back rubs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">41.
His honesty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">42.
His willingness to pick up the kids at night when I’m already in bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">43.
His voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">44.
His ability (and willingness) to
find the answer to any random question that may come up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">45.
His loyalty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">46.
His pride for his children<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">47.
His willingness to help others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">48.
His memory for faces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">49.
He sticks to his principals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">50.
The fact that he loves me!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Cambria;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy 50<sup>th</sup>
Birthday Jeff!</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></i></div>
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</span>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-65794955706654119162014-06-04T12:48:00.000-04:002014-06-04T12:57:20.261-04:00Remembering the firsts<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember all your firsts: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time I saw your face, scrunched up and crying when
the nurse handed you to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time your big brother held you, his four-year-old
arms cradling you carefully as he asked “Where is she going to sleep?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your first sleep over, when at age four, you told me you
were old enough to walk to the door by yourself, and that I shouldn’t worry or
miss you because, after all, it was only one night, and I had a picture of you
I could stare at.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time I dropped you off at preschool, your school
bag bigger than you and your smile bigger than your face, waving to me as you
ran into the classroom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time you were hurt by a friend, your big green
eyes filled with tears as you asked me why someone would not include you in a
play date.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time you got angry at me, those same green eyes
wide and blazing, questioning my decision and my words.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your first days of kindergarten, middle school and high
school, your smile still big but those eyes tinged with worry, and even doubt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And now, instead of remembering your firsts, I am counting
down your lasts:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your last full day of high school (Where did the past 12
years go?)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your last high school exam (Yes, you do still need to study
for it!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Your last day as a high school student (Remember this day,
you will relive it over and over again for years!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Your last summer before college (The best days of your life!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
High school graduation is such a momentous occasion in one’s
life. It’s a stepping stone to adulthood. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Friends you swore you’d never loose
touch with will slowly disappear, replaced by new friends and only seen at
reunions and homecoming games. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Summers will no longer be spent lounging by the pool and
hanging out at the mall. Instead, there will be summer classes to attend, internships
to be scored and the world to be explored. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These really are the best days of your life. Enjoy them.
Don’t rush through them. Stop and take the time to appreciate home. Oh, not
necessarily the physical building (although your room is rather comfortable)
but the places you have existed in and taken for granted these past 18 years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember someone describing home as the place that is
close to the heart of the owner. Yes, close to the heart of the owner. That is
the place I want you to enjoy – anyone or anyplace that is close to your heart.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Congratulations my soon-to-be high school graduate. As I
watch you walk down that aisle at graduation, I will have another first to
remember: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your first steps into adulthood (I’m so proud of you!)</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-79841502958145435012014-05-31T12:43:00.000-04:002014-05-31T12:43:46.555-04:00Goodbye May
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<br />
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It’s
the last day of May! For those lost in a fog of baseball games, graduations,
dances, lacrosse games, showers, proms, softball games, recitals and spring
cleaning, you’re welcome for the calendar update! Or is that just my schedule?<span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway,
it’s the last day of May, and I can’t decide if I’m happy about that, or sad. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On
the one hand, I can cross off at least 3 major events that have been hanging
over my head and stressing me out. (Three down, four to go!) I feel like I can
start to breathe again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the
other hand, May has come and gone and I’ve missed the opportunity to sit back
and appreciate nature coming to life again after that long, cold, brutal
winter. It’s a joy to see color
again after so many months of gray. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Looking
back, I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in these past 31 days. I’ve celebrated
my son’s college graduation; sent my daughter off to her Senior Prom; helped
organize a Post Prom party for 350 kids; opened our summer house for the
season; celebrated my son’s 23<sup>rd</sup> birthday; prepped my daughter for
her visit to the high school (which she will be attending next year); wrapped
up two volunteer jobs; and started the very difficult discussion with my father
about downsizing/moving him from our family home (a home he’s lived in for 56
years). Talk about your highs and lows.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But
I feel like that’s what May is – a time of change, a time of awakening. Closing
the doors on some things while anticipating new opportunities and beginnings. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If
only I could slow down a bit and appreciate it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But
life marches on. There are more graduations to attend, dances to go to and
recitals to prepare for. And then… summer! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just
a few weeks of craziness left and then we can calm our nerves while we
appreciate the longer days. We can relax our shoulders and stretch our legs and
breathe in the fresh air of summer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Goodbye
May 2014. You will be remembered for your good times and bad, your highs and
lows, your sunshine and rain. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Welcome
June – be kind and feel free to dawdle. I’m in no hurry to see you move on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Rabbit
Rabbit</i><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-50161546546462730352014-04-20T08:50:00.003-04:002014-04-20T08:50:31.792-04:00Easter Blessings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirh3dcm9JiNdRNmzguBoHlHB6_2Fm3cUfkmo27CuxEYKsgvyb5CL-eduxgk31Op5gUCsISudjY3gvPsfE8UR1wHrxVrtrcs-1hfCYYEsmts6qoGzxPtQoehfUjuyCCzIfA13fS7lmSvwLq/s1600/Easter+morning+-+beach+2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirh3dcm9JiNdRNmzguBoHlHB6_2Fm3cUfkmo27CuxEYKsgvyb5CL-eduxgk31Op5gUCsISudjY3gvPsfE8UR1wHrxVrtrcs-1hfCYYEsmts6qoGzxPtQoehfUjuyCCzIfA13fS7lmSvwLq/s1600/Easter+morning+-+beach+2014.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wishing all those who celebrate a Blessed and Peaceful Easter!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">"Jesus Christ is Risen Today... Alleluia!"</span></i></div>
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-83570576386134517422014-04-02T17:18:00.001-04:002014-04-02T17:18:20.086-04:00I am still hereI am still here... <i>I think</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>but pulled in a thousand different directions.</i><br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>but my mind is a million miles away</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>frazzled, distracted, overwhelmed, over scheduled, and over it</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>despite life's best efforts to derail me</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here...<i> tired, flustered, edgy and restless</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here...<i> smiling, moving, working, trying</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>but is that enough?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I am still here...<i> because I am stronger than I thought.</i><br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>for all those who need me.</i><br />
<br />
I am still here... <i>and will be, God-willing, for quite a while</i>.<br />
<br />
I am still here.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-81246734060930264902014-02-25T10:37:00.001-05:002014-02-25T10:37:38.707-05:00Confessions of a Control Freak<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpfFSP11qkFEqamf8nHJK6Hvl5VZ2JAw6qvsr4FuJeckQKA9zGW5bb049Wqxshl4RUlMNF_IiYHvPEmqJoKEau_p0pN5SLtHqhVXWwAqQGbqXhLMOzVzDY6FWYGMxbQea3zY6TLfSpaVi/s1600/Control+quote.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpfFSP11qkFEqamf8nHJK6Hvl5VZ2JAw6qvsr4FuJeckQKA9zGW5bb049Wqxshl4RUlMNF_IiYHvPEmqJoKEau_p0pN5SLtHqhVXWwAqQGbqXhLMOzVzDY6FWYGMxbQea3zY6TLfSpaVi/s1600/Control+quote.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
I admit it. I’m a bit of a control freak. (Okay, perhaps more than a bit.)<br />
<br />
I dislike chaos and crave orderliness. Delegate is a dirty word for me. Peace and calm are my constant goal. Change scares me (just the word makes me cringe). <br />
<br />
I recently chaired an event that required me to rely on others for the majority of the components. It was hell. In the end, it all worked out but the week prior to the big day, I gained five pounds (I eat when I’m stressed) and lost countless hours of sleep. <br />
<br />
It’s a problem, I know, and not something I’m particularly proud of. You would think my need for control would have been cured after having three children. After all, there’s nothing like a sick baby or an unexpected homework assignment to throw your to-do list right out the window.<br />
<br />
But sadly, I somehow held on to my controlling habits, despite the best efforts of my children to derail me. <br />
<br />
I don’t think it’s wrong of me to want a calm, orderly life. I think control, in many cases – especially as a mother – is important. It’s just not a good thing when it affects you physically. Or when it affects your life and those around you.<br />
<br />
I’m afraid I am teaching my children, especially my youngest, that change is something to be scared of. And THAT is not a good thing.<br />
<br />
And that is what I’m trying to work on in 2014. I’m going to keep my orderly life, but throw in some change every once in a while.<br />
<br />
As you know from my last post, I picked up Lu Ann Cahn’s new book, <i>I Dare Me</i>. It’s a great book about doing new things to recharge your life. I loved it and have already made a list of things I want to do for the first time (or for the first time in a long time).<br />
<br />
For example, I tend to sit in the same pew for Mass every Sunday. Not so unusual, as I see many families do the same thing each week. But, just to switch it up, I will not only sit in a different pew, I will sit on a different side of the Church. <br />
<br />
Now, there are probably two different reactions you could have to this statement. You are right now either nodding your ahead in agreement and understanding, since you tend to be a creature of habit as well, or you are shaking your head in amazement that I actually have to make a resolution to sit somewhere else in Church. (Crazy, I hear you thinking!)<br />
<br />
For those in the latter group, I applaud your spontaneity – really! But sadly, I think there are a number of us “control freaks” out there who are set in their ways and see change as a dirty word. <br />
<br />
For those of you, I say join me. Join me in shaking up your life a little. <br />
<br />
What else do I have planned for 2014:<br />
<br />
1. Going to a movie in the middle of the day by myself.<br />
2. Going tech-free for a day.<br />
3. Dance in the rain.<br />
4. Sell/buy something on e-bay.<br />
5. Finger paint<br />
6. Host a home trunk show.<br />
7. Learn to Hula Hoop.<br />
8. Learn to put on and wear fake eyelashes.<br />
9. Stay silent for a day.<br />
10. Yoga on the beach.<br />
<br />
And many, many more.<br />
<br />
In fact, I’ve already marked a few “firsts” off my list, including learning to recite the ABC’s backwards and shopping in a new market in the area. Grant it, they’re not earth-shattering opportunities, but it’s a start – a new way of looking at the same old things. And it’s a chance for this old control freak to shake things up a bit and see that change does not have to be scary.<br />
<br />
For once, I’m actually looking forward to some change in my life. And I’m learning to ignore those butterflies in my stomach and take a chance. <br />
<br />
Any other control freaks out there looking to shake it up a bit?<br />
<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-82687669934958202572014-02-18T13:26:00.000-05:002014-02-18T13:26:17.757-05:00Time to Shake It Up a BitIt’s another snowy day here in Eastern PA. School is on a 2-hour delay (at least they are in school) and roads are supposed to clear by lunchtime. This is good news for everyone in my household because we are all pretty much sick of each other these days. We’re tired of the snow, the cold and the confinement. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RGUWL5PVKyE0knN0cPQDlsF6ImS84oEBi7JDwi2g2caRJasr3Clwxgzhje7eLC4wavTrxmlhbtv-Tr3RHG9kaeDLhmWFjaIFdXRtxxkW2yExlm77LdE9vqvVzPaZ6e4FFcNJDaqSY0No/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RGUWL5PVKyE0knN0cPQDlsF6ImS84oEBi7JDwi2g2caRJasr3Clwxgzhje7eLC4wavTrxmlhbtv-Tr3RHG9kaeDLhmWFjaIFdXRtxxkW2yExlm77LdE9vqvVzPaZ6e4FFcNJDaqSY0No/s400/images.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
It’s been a tough winter around here, with words like Polar Vortex and thunder snow being bantered around on a daily basis. I’ve been woken up at 5:00 a.m. with a phone call from our School Superintendant over a dozen times (so far) and if my daughter asks me one more time, “Do you think we’ll have school tomorrow?” I will scream!<br />
<br />
For whatever reason (lack of sleep most probably) I am in an especially down mood this morning. It’s snowing (again). It’s cold (again). My schedule is being interrupted (again). Winter fatigue has set in but considering there is still over a month until spring, and more snow and cold weather in the forecast, I need to get over it.<br />
<br />
Luckily, I was able to get out of the house last night and hear a wonderfully inspiring speaker who has written a book to help me shake off this mood. Lu Ann Cahn, a Philadelphia TV reporter, has written a book, I Dare Me, which talks about how she “rebooted and recharged her life by doing something new every day.”<br />
<br />
THIS is what I needed to hear. She started by asking those in attendance, “When was the last time you did something for the first time?”<br />
<br />
Wow, think about that for a while. <br />
<br />
“When was the last time you did something for the first time?” <br />
<br />
She admitted she was in a rut in 2009 – unhappy and frustrated with life. Her college-aged daughter challenged her to shake up her life a bit by trying something new every day and writing about it on a blog. Cahn was reluctant at first but decided to give it a try. On Jan. 1, 2010, she participated in the Polar Bear Plunge in Atlantic City, NJ. For someone who admitted to not going into the ocean in July, this was a big departure from her comfort zone.<br />
<br />
Cahn kept it up, trying everything from hula hooping to eating in an Ethiopian restaurant for the first time to zip lining in Mexico, all the while recording her daily adventures on her blog. <br />
<br />
At the end of the year, she realized what had been missing in her life – firsts! Trying new things added excitement to her life and made her appreciate what she had. <br />
<br />
Her goal with the book: helping others become unstuck and discover the wonder life has to offer!<br />
<br />
I’ve had the book in my hands for about 16 hours and can’t put it down. It’s inspired me to change it up a bit. Me, who thinks living dangerously is sitting on a different side of the Church on Sundays.<br />
<br />
It’s amazing what comes your way when you really need it. <br />
<br />
I've already started a list of things I want to try for the first time and, while I won't be doing something new every day, I am challenging myself to shake it up a bit at least once a week. <br />
<br />
I’m not getting any compensation for this post. My only goal is to help others who may be stuck and in a rut, especially with this crazy winter we are having. <br />
<br />
When was the last time you did something for the first time?<br />
<br />
Pick up this book and challenge yourself to do something new, today! I dare you!<br />
<br />
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Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-1572441172739944402014-02-14T14:45:00.000-05:002014-02-14T14:45:28.683-05:00It's Valentine's DayIt’s Valentine’s Day. It’s also our school’s 10th snow day, as well as the ninth snowstorm that has hit our area this season, with more snow predicted tomorrow. We have had over 55 inches of snow this winter so far. Here's my view as I write this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgae1Y1YssG_cQLPy3lGCefniQBNCGRVGFaEJSElnKpzpdwW4TJwn79uukGUfgZ2nFRFn4Y9hOfo3JEiERGMqizhOS99VZx29j-uaCIFFYI20mrs6l8mtrsTkVekt6GDXLv2FXHc8BRhERs/s1600/Feb.+14+-+Snow+Day+(Kitchen+view)+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgae1Y1YssG_cQLPy3lGCefniQBNCGRVGFaEJSElnKpzpdwW4TJwn79uukGUfgZ2nFRFn4Y9hOfo3JEiERGMqizhOS99VZx29j-uaCIFFYI20mrs6l8mtrsTkVekt6GDXLv2FXHc8BRhERs/s400/Feb.+14+-+Snow+Day+(Kitchen+view)+.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
For this warm-weather, beach-loving lady, this is my version of hell!<br />
<br />
But, I digress. It’s Valentine’s Day. We aren’t big fans of this holiday in our house. I’m not saying I would turn down some chocolate and flowers, especially when I am surrounded by children and snow these days, but I am not the type of woman who requires a big fancy dinner out and a tiffany-blue box on the table. (Having said that, again, I certainly wouldn’t turn either down. See first paragraph!)<br />
<br />
For once, this year I thought ahead and picked up a few things for my daughters and husband for Valentine’s Day a few days ago. Since we were housebound yesterday, my forethought allowed me to gloat a bit this morning at the breakfast table when I pulled out said gifts. I’m not proud of my actions, but it certainly was fun to see my husband squirm a bit when I pulled out a card and gift at 8:00 am. (This was after I served him heart-shaped pancakes! I know. I have no shame!)<br />
<br />
Having been married for 24 years, I know my husband well enough to expect some flowers and chocolate in a few hours. He knows the way to my heart. But while in the shower this morning, I started thinking about all the gifts he has given me through the years for which he never gets credit.<br />
<br />
The biggest gift: The ability to be a stay-at-home mom for our three children. Financially, this is worth countless bouquets of flowers, pieces of jewelry and dinners out, but emotionally, this is a priceless gift that I appreciate every day, and yet rarely thank him for.<br />
<br />
Other gifts he has given me:<br />
<br />
-Filling up my car with gas when I’m almost on empty.<br />
-Waking up early and running to get me a bagel at my favorite bagel shop.<br />
-Warming up my car before I leave in the morning.<br />
-Walking our dogs at night, in the rain, and never complaining.<br />
-Picking up our kids after that late-night party because he knows I don’t like to drive at night (and I’m already in my pajamas).<br />
-Coming home to another night of “breakfast for dinner” or take-out dinner (that he has to pick up) – and not complaining!<br />
-Giving up many a weekend at our shore house so that my sisters and I can have a girls weekend away. <br />
-Making many late-night runs to the grocery store to satisfy my chocolate cravings.<br />
-Making me laugh every day!<br />
<br />
So, on this Valentine’s Day, I want to thank my sweet Valentine for all the gifts he has given me these past 24 years. I may not thank you every day, but I appreciate them more than you’ll ever know. And those gifts are worth more than any flowers you could every get me. (We can talk about that tiffany-blue box later!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_4ygDm1MylHT16zWfYWml3KFWU5UeisDnNTDr5lkXilvhg1vXNQ8ncOlw-4NSp6LdaELnaTVHWSqm0GLACp34oYbvQKcMppy4pj5dWalm28Ithz2G4MtWkkqDhLIaLLFVbCc6gA1K0KiX/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_4ygDm1MylHT16zWfYWml3KFWU5UeisDnNTDr5lkXilvhg1vXNQ8ncOlw-4NSp6LdaELnaTVHWSqm0GLACp34oYbvQKcMppy4pj5dWalm28Ithz2G4MtWkkqDhLIaLLFVbCc6gA1K0KiX/s400/images.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-56235678938209569232014-01-24T12:26:00.000-05:002014-01-24T12:26:00.966-05:00I HATE WINTERI HATE WINTER!<br />
<br />
There, I said it. Now, before I go any further, I have to apologize. I don’t usually use my blog for personal, seemingly unimportant rants. I tend to stick to Twitter:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcTn1PimIs-m76D8M_lNZoaJv6SdGYrNBJxLsxYx9DxFhtp4DN79-Z46Ovh3fkvgL0IctAKnuLgCRf7D23cq30wjMyGZ7CclMa08R1QwfF3oelSHeOda-jXCbWhigVR11TQS25qSjGnT3/s1600/Twitter+Winter+post.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcTn1PimIs-m76D8M_lNZoaJv6SdGYrNBJxLsxYx9DxFhtp4DN79-Z46Ovh3fkvgL0IctAKnuLgCRf7D23cq30wjMyGZ7CclMa08R1QwfF3oelSHeOda-jXCbWhigVR11TQS25qSjGnT3/s320/Twitter+Winter+post.PNG" /></a></div><br />
Or Facebook:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54WTxoZq4XAQrXjLJ6R-8OuNt32v1Z8DM1GXdXmQTbbnC81j0KCP3lxTx2Lhn5A1FTQE9hn9Z6kt_mafvFFwmWPGlHC-0pt16H1BRsF426seiGVCdMUn_5qrVqydW3uaIU8aolHE4hIR9/s1600/FB+Winter+post.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54WTxoZq4XAQrXjLJ6R-8OuNt32v1Z8DM1GXdXmQTbbnC81j0KCP3lxTx2Lhn5A1FTQE9hn9Z6kt_mafvFFwmWPGlHC-0pt16H1BRsF426seiGVCdMUn_5qrVqydW3uaIU8aolHE4hIR9/s320/FB+Winter+post.PNG" /></a></div><br />
for that.<br />
<br />
But here I am, breaking my own rules. <br />
<br />
You see, this is what I’m looking at right now:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfuVA9d3REGNdmKu_2Mg8icRbOD42ox5UVLc1GjQ1z0WL-hfClhec1uKEuB8NHn1YmoYsMJ-BiEMyLWpz-eyCt31EtObMFvzXGmkfOEKD0Z4BzRMzoBY_RF_B_5nrogC1KbUnLVhTJCr8G/s1600/Chairs+in+Snow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfuVA9d3REGNdmKu_2Mg8icRbOD42ox5UVLc1GjQ1z0WL-hfClhec1uKEuB8NHn1YmoYsMJ-BiEMyLWpz-eyCt31EtObMFvzXGmkfOEKD0Z4BzRMzoBY_RF_B_5nrogC1KbUnLVhTJCr8G/s320/Chairs+in+Snow.JPG" /></a></div><br />
And THIS is what I’d really much rather be looking at:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisgnzuJgAj6d8GIJPSBl7naqEkHSfYPhXkOcbhSEgVMFLxszlfaeByE7UY5bCUz37GFhEQN8thQ2GT9gZ-Qo9-Msnq7nj-3HL16HXzmVu4Xx0DO_eiLPh3BOG8rOFF5_9sf16UxheSWxsw/s1600/Toes+in+the+Sand.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisgnzuJgAj6d8GIJPSBl7naqEkHSfYPhXkOcbhSEgVMFLxszlfaeByE7UY5bCUz37GFhEQN8thQ2GT9gZ-Qo9-Msnq7nj-3HL16HXzmVu4Xx0DO_eiLPh3BOG8rOFF5_9sf16UxheSWxsw/s320/Toes+in+the+Sand.JPG" /></a></div><br />
As if that isn’t hard enough to bear, THIS is what it feels like in my house right now:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBk4TmDstlV2CqzjTTOmKhpc8GcGYkRSOH8vXc95gUDcQwAHoiXKVNDTW99s_CwUGNzwfkYv0R_H2Afveah-dr39ePO757uHAC3aEUafcGi1JNbMDzGElSDyvDko6wuVIXX8n1w_GwJbLc/s1600/Thermostat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBk4TmDstlV2CqzjTTOmKhpc8GcGYkRSOH8vXc95gUDcQwAHoiXKVNDTW99s_CwUGNzwfkYv0R_H2Afveah-dr39ePO757uHAC3aEUafcGi1JNbMDzGElSDyvDko6wuVIXX8n1w_GwJbLc/s200/Thermostat.JPG" /></a></div><br />
And THIS is what I feel like it feels like in my house right now:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIPQ3itK-wD5Ou0ACkRailtlcrIuoxuXHJTuPZTf3gLajsi_Jn-Hoa4TeVzBBmzMIDNfIOmzxGY9ZwFmQX65STVLCR3ohww7-QN_1AZ6t-yd_yZFspgzTHJEo3SJzqO4sLg6wHBraO7cD/s1600/Freezer.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIPQ3itK-wD5Ou0ACkRailtlcrIuoxuXHJTuPZTf3gLajsi_Jn-Hoa4TeVzBBmzMIDNfIOmzxGY9ZwFmQX65STVLCR3ohww7-QN_1AZ6t-yd_yZFspgzTHJEo3SJzqO4sLg6wHBraO7cD/s320/Freezer.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Get it?<br />
<br />
I HATE WINTER!<br />
<br />
I wasn’t always this way. I used to enjoy winter. I loved the snow. I looked forward to hearing my school number being called on the local radio news station, knowing that meant a day off of school and hours of sledding, snowball fights and fun ahead!<br />
<br />
I’m not sure exactly when it all changed. I can’t say “real life” crept in, because – truthfully - it’s not the driving in the snow to go to school/work that I hate most about winter (although that certainly isn’t top of my list). No, I think it’s the cold I dislike most about these few months. And the fact that winter seems to drag on and on.<br />
<br />
Personally, I’d like to see us skip the months of February and March completely and go from January 31 to April 1. (My apologies to those with birthdays in those months but I see it as a sacrifice that must be made. We’ll celebrate your big day with a nice outdoor picnic at the beach instead, okay?!)<br />
<br />
My goal today was to spend the morning writing. I had the entire day blocked off and was excited to spend it on my computer pounding out some interesting, relevant content. And here I am talking about the cold. What happened?<br />
<br />
It started with our heater. Or perhaps it’s our thermostat. Whatever it is, we can’t seem to get the heat working in our house with any consistency. One minute it’s 67 degrees in here, the next it’s 59. Have you ever tried to type with cold fingers? I’ve re-typed this sentence five times because my fingers won’t cooperate with my brain.<br />
<br />
And of course the call to the heating company went about as you would expect a call to go when there is 12 inches of snow on the ground and the temperature isn’t expected to rise above freezing in the foreseeable future. “Please leave a message and we’ll get back to you.” Sure you will – right around Memorial Day!<br />
<br />
After donning a hat, scarf, fingerless gloves, two pairs of socks and three layers of sweaters/jackets, I decided to make the best of the situation and start my writing. As I sat down, my neighbor called. His car wouldn’t start and he needed to borrow our jumper cables. Oh, and our car! <br />
<br />
And then the dogs needed to go out. They didn’t want to go out, mind you, (who does?) but unless I wanted to be cleaning up various messes throughout the day, I needed to convince them that it was a good idea to get out of their warm beds and go outside to do their business. (Can anyone explain to me why dogs cannot simple walk outside and go? Why do they feel the need to be walked for blocks and then sniff their way to the middle of a yard covered in snow before they go?)<br />
<br />
And now, half way through this cold winter day, I am finally sitting down and writing. I have managed to bang out 600 words on something as important as “Why I Hate Winter.” <br />
<br />
I will end this rant, I mean post, the way I began it, with my apologies. My hope is that the next post you read will be calmer and a bit more relevant. But don’t count on it, as there are two more months of cold and snow and, in case I didn’t mention it before…<br />
<br />
I HATE WINTER!<br />
<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-81367998044086518702014-01-14T10:15:00.000-05:002014-01-14T10:15:14.583-05:00The Work of Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGVF4UAnum8pcVt6JH6Mu5LiC1pDVLvpY3bBsOoStAN2frYhoFZgJWlIkCtwhExVmaztlsEPMz5AnhnSaNtZ-ptIQ5zi8GHCImRw5oxPJjUYmPgPmaFtuel7ZgiadQvmdqktsom09ABbG/s1600/nowtheworkofchristmasbegins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGVF4UAnum8pcVt6JH6Mu5LiC1pDVLvpY3bBsOoStAN2frYhoFZgJWlIkCtwhExVmaztlsEPMz5AnhnSaNtZ-ptIQ5zi8GHCImRw5oxPJjUYmPgPmaFtuel7ZgiadQvmdqktsom09ABbG/s1600/nowtheworkofchristmasbegins.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I don’t normally post other people’s writings, for obvious reasons, but I came across this beautiful poem by civil rights leader and theologian Dr Howard Thurman and I had to share:<br />
<br />
<b>The Work of Christmas</b><br />
<br />
<i>When the song of the angels is stilled,<br />
When the star in the sky is gone,<br />
When the kings and princes are home,<br />
When the shepherds are back with their flock,<br />
The work of Christmas begins:<br />
<br />
To find the lost,<br />
To heal the broken,<br />
To feed the hungry,<br />
To release the prisoner,<br />
To rebuild the nations,<br />
To bring peace among brothers,<br />
To make music in the heart.</i><br />
<br />
So let’s get to work!<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-42052997132952025662014-01-13T10:46:00.002-05:002014-01-13T10:46:55.021-05:00I Miss Her<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukF75da7JFjHe5l6O1y-bmEmv6W-ZFcK0eLssnIfPg72x33Ki3QmaDrA271N6_NdgRitGiyw8tzTce_Xd9iqeeEM_ZzQEU8moTv3LdeDNyId6oBL9cQSKGrw6GMLa7Y6qNtwpgRdtFJqS/s1600/Best-Friends-Quotes-1024x768.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukF75da7JFjHe5l6O1y-bmEmv6W-ZFcK0eLssnIfPg72x33Ki3QmaDrA271N6_NdgRitGiyw8tzTce_Xd9iqeeEM_ZzQEU8moTv3LdeDNyId6oBL9cQSKGrw6GMLa7Y6qNtwpgRdtFJqS/s640/Best-Friends-Quotes-1024x768.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
I miss her.<br />
<br />
I miss her smile and her laugh.<br />
<br />
I miss her sunny personality and her chatter.<br />
<br />
I miss her concern and her thoughtfulness.<br />
<br />
I miss her.<br />
<br />
It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I drive past her house and pause, saying a prayer that all is well; wishing things were different; hoping for good news. <br />
<br />
Life changes in an instant. How often do we hear that phrase? How often do we repeat those words to our children, to ourselves? How often do we say that this time, we will listen and appreciate our lives? How often do we forget?<br />
<br />
Such a little thing, that cough, barely noticeable to those around her. Allergies? A lingering cold? Nothing more serious. It couldn’t be.<br />
<br />
Cancer? No! She’s too young. She’s got three children who need her. She’s just started back to school – a new career, a new start. Cancer? Really?<br />
<br />
Radiation. Yes.<br />
<br />
Surgery. Okay. <br />
<br />
Chemo? Whatever helps.<br />
<br />
Problems? Complications?<br />
<br />
What can we do to help? Dinners. Carpools. Prayers. Anything.<br />
<br />
How is she doing? I’ve asked that question countless time over these past few months. <br />
<br />
Is there anything I can do? Another question posed over and over again to anyone who will listen.<br />
<br />
It’s such a helpless feeling – seeing your friend so sick and not being able to do anything; not being able to do enough. <br />
<br />
I’ve cooked dinners, written notes, sent texts, dropped off little gifts. I’ve said prayers, offered intentions, added her to prayer lists. <br />
<br />
I feel lost. I feel powerless. I feel frustrated. <br />
<br />
Then I feel guilty. It’s not about me, after all, it’s about her. It’s about her family. It’s not about me.<br />
<br />
So I keep on praying. And I keep on asking for her. And I keep on sending those texts and dinners and notes.<br />
<br />
I keep on. Just like I hope she is keeping on. For with life, there is hope. <br />
<br />
God Bless you my friend. I miss you.<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-30210694668838959402014-01-08T10:08:00.000-05:002014-01-08T10:08:22.735-05:00Life is a Roller Coaster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOSu8rJRve4XycW5AW8PRt4F9p6GSwFAsq-bmpkLc98vcSNMTIExUqhP-R6G7HGhAaK0RAaAJlzVPhi-fBTSKvVs62wbVDaXPRP3PHa30oyQzFrVSjeglBh53VXXMqnXxil6Cb1vrHi2d/s1600/Roller+coaster+clip+art+.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkOSu8rJRve4XycW5AW8PRt4F9p6GSwFAsq-bmpkLc98vcSNMTIExUqhP-R6G7HGhAaK0RAaAJlzVPhi-fBTSKvVs62wbVDaXPRP3PHa30oyQzFrVSjeglBh53VXXMqnXxil6Cb1vrHi2d/s320/Roller+coaster+clip+art+.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
If there’s one thing I’ve learned these past 40+ years, it’s that life is a roller coaster. You have your highs and your lows, your peaks and your dips, your curves and your straight-aways. Every day is different so buckle up and hold on because it isn’t for the faint of heart.<br />
<br />
Anyone with children knows that life with kids is one long, continuous roller coaster ride. They have their ups (they were just invited to a great party or got an A on their latest test) and their downs (they were the “only one” not invited to someone’s house, or they didn’t make a team). <br />
<br />
When these events happen, I remind them (and myself) of my little adage: Life is like a roller coaster. I have repeated that saying so many times that even my dogs could recite it. I know that what comes up, must come down. I know that life always gets better. I KNOW all this. So if I know this, why do I climb into that car and ride that rollercoaster with them every time? <br />
<br />
Why do I still feel a pang when I look on Instagram or Facebook and see a group of my children’s friends together without my child there? Why does my heart break when I hear my daughter talk of a sleepover that she isn’t invited to?<br />
<br />
Why? Because no matter how often my brain hears me saying, “Life is like a roller coaster. There will be ups and downs,” my heart hates those downs when they are happening to my children.<br />
<br />
I know adversity builds character and strength. I know that not everyone is invited to everything. I know that life isn’t always fair. But here’s the thing, and it’s a biggie, knowing something and believing and accepting it – all the time - are two totally different things.<br />
<br />
It hurts to see your children hurt. It hurts to see that look of disappointment or fear on their face as they come down from that high.<br />
<br />
I recently heard someone talk about something that helps ease the pain of those downs. They call them back-pocket moments. I love this idea. Back-pocket moments are those times when something goes really well; when life is good – really good. You know the moments: you just got your first job; the boy you like asked you to Prom; you aced the test you studied for all night. When my kids come home and tell me something that they are really happy about or proud of, I tell them to “put it in their back pocket” so they can pull it out and remember that feeling when life isn’t going well. <br />
<br />
Because we all know that, as good as everything might be right now, life changes in an instant. That roller coaster doesn’t stay up continuously. But isn’t that what makes the ride so much fun – those crazy twists, turns and drops? And isn’t that what makes life so interesting?<br />
<br />
So I’ll remind myself of these back pocket moments, and I will try and stay off that roller coaster that my kids will be riding. They are “tall enough” now to ride it alone. I will stay on the ground and smile, wave and encourage them as they go up and down, and be there for them when they get off, to give them a hug or a high-five, depending on what they may need.<br />
<br />
I will remind them that they will experience many ups and downs in life so buckle up and hold on because they’re in for a great ride.<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-24219440550036132142014-01-03T14:57:00.000-05:002014-01-03T14:57:01.841-05:00Resolution Failure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG589eNj5dCGlZP_Xw69NnsBWNoteWzQv-nfSlU1j_4DdLUN9rakpwrR6i779_xImyujyyX0x8B7PYwlnFPGDx0dW9OZBk4LM2oYTN_MO3PYtNoLAxu6Bz1q4zAV_dDMlYTCHLgZpSbOKV/s1600/Resolutions.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG589eNj5dCGlZP_Xw69NnsBWNoteWzQv-nfSlU1j_4DdLUN9rakpwrR6i779_xImyujyyX0x8B7PYwlnFPGDx0dW9OZBk4LM2oYTN_MO3PYtNoLAxu6Bz1q4zAV_dDMlYTCHLgZpSbOKV/s320/Resolutions.JPG" /></a></div><br />
It’s three days into 2014 and I have failed at every one of my New Year’s resolutions! <br />
<br />
Three days!<br />
<br />
I have very good reasons of course. Really!<br />
<br />
First resolution: Diet<br />
<br />
Well, as everyone knows, you cannot start a diet on a holiday, which New Year’s Day clearly is. And then an emergency came up with an event I was running and, well, we all know the only cure to emergencies is chocolate. And today, a snowstorm has hit our area. Six inches of snow + five people in the house together (who already spent <i>a lot</i> of time together over Christmas break) + four batches of chocolate chip cookies left over from Christmas + three tubs of popcorn received from neighbors and clients + two wet, smelly dogs equals one cranky momma who is in no mood to diet! Bring on the fudge!<br />
<br />
Second resolution: Gym<br />
<br />
I AM going to get to the gym, really. It’s just that it’s so crowded those first couple of days after New Year’s that you can’t get near any of the equipment, and then that snowstorm hit and I hate to drive in the snow, and the kids are home from school and…<br />
<br />
Third: No Judging<br />
<br />
I’m not judging anyone but really, who wears a sleeveless top in January when the wind chill is 4 degrees? It’s not that I care, it’s just that a sweater would be much more appropriate in this weather. I wouldn’t even mention it but, sleeveless? I think someone just wants to show off their arms. But really, it’s none of my business. I’m not going to talk about it again. This is a judgment-free zone from now on (as long as no one wears sleeveless shirts again)!<br />
<br />
Fourth: Write more.<br />
<br />
I would write more but you see, an emergency came up that I had to deal with, then a snowstorm hit and the schools closed so my family is all home, and there is all this left-over food I need to finish before it goes bad and really, who has time to write?<br />
<br />
Luckily, it is only January 3 and I have 362 more days left to make up excuses, I mean make up for my resolution failure. <br />
<br />
How are you making out with your New Year’s resolutions? <br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-80441963394366646382013-12-19T15:32:00.000-05:002013-12-19T15:32:28.549-05:00Christmas MemoriesI’ve decided the reason I enjoy Christmas so much is not just the gift giving or the baking or the holiday music. It’s not just the family time or the time off or the hustle and bustle.<br />
<br />
Christmas is so special to me because of the <b>memories<i></i></b>. More than any other holiday, Christmas conjures up fun times and special moments in my life long gone, but never forgotten.<br />
<br />
I remember the family Christmas parties with aunts, uncles and cousins (many of whom I didn’t even know) gathered around the piano singing “Deck the Halls” and “We Three Kings”. <br />
<br />
I remember “helping” my dad put up the trains, or platform, as we called it, in the kitchen, assembling tiny houses and arranging miniature people in all sorts of odd configurations.<br />
<br />
I remember using that same platform as a fort, hiding under it and dreaming of all the toys I was sure Santa would bring me.<br />
<br />
I remember coming home from school and hearing Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mathis belting out “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” and “A Christmas Song” over the stereo. <br />
<br />
I remember the smell of chocolate chip cookies as they baked in the oven (and my mom threatening us not to eat them or we wouldn’t have any on Christmas night!)<br />
<br />
I remember helping my father decorate the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, hanging homemade ornaments and stringing gold garland, as my mom readied the turkey in the kitchen.<br />
<br />
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I remember waking up at 5:00 a.m. and gathering on my sister’s bed, telling stories of Christmas’ past and guessing what time we could safely go down and wake our parents.<br />
<br />
I remember rounding the corner and seeing the Christmas tree surrounded by brightly wrapped gifts, and having to wait "patiently" on the steps for my older siblings to wake up.<br />
<br />
I remember the excitement of unwrapping each gift, an Easy Bake Oven one year, a Barbie camper another year, always amazed Santa got me <i>just </i>what I wanted!<br />
<br />
I remember digging into my stocking and always finding a LifeSavers book, a toothbrush and an orange (always in the heal of the stocking) among other things. (Santa certainly was consistent!)<br />
<br />
I remember the disappointment of having to put down all those fun toys for a few hours and going to Mass – the requisite time-out that I’m sure I needed but never wanted!<br />
<br />
I remember the anticipation of calling my best friend and running back and forth between houses to see what we had gotten (a practice we still do to this day).<br />
<br />
I remember it all – the excitement, wonder, joy and love Christmas brought with it. And for me, <i>THAT</i> is what Christmas is all about. <br />
<br />
These days, as a mother, that excitement and joy can be overshadowed by the cleaning, shopping, cooking, wrapping and baking. However, I try and remind myself that I am now making memories for my children; memories that I hope they will hold as dear and close to their hearts as I hold mine. <br />
<br />
And so this season I wish you all a Christmas full of fun times, delicious food, family gatherings and precious moments that will carry you through the years.<br />
<br />
<i>Merry Christmas to all and to all, Happy Memories!</i><br />
<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-86720514690914800442013-11-27T17:52:00.003-05:002013-11-28T08:48:22.210-05:00ThankfulWhat I am Thankful for (in no particular order):<br />
<br />
~1 loving husband, 2 little dogs, 3 growing children<br />
~A warm house<br />
~An extended family that loves to laugh<br />
~My slightly overweight, sometimes achy but overall healthy body<br />
~My still-curious albeit occasionally forgetful mind<br />
~The rich delicious taste of chocolate<br />
~The sight, sound and feel of the beach on a warm summer day<br />
~Books, books and more books <br />
~My warm, comfortable bed after a long, cold, stressful day<br />
~Clean water, electricity and the Internet (taken for granted until they’re suddenly unavailable)<br />
~The privilege of being able to read, think and worship who and what I want<br />
~A new day<br />
~The quiet, peaceful stillness of a sleeping household<br />
~The honor of being a mother, sister, daughter and friend to some wonderful people<br />
~My life – as crazy, chaotic and unpredictable as it is.<br />
<br />
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Wishing you all an abundance of blessings and joy this Thanksgiving Season!<br />
<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-66077783996413271492013-11-07T15:10:00.000-05:002013-11-07T15:10:03.383-05:00And so it begins...My daughter is a senior in high school. *Sigh*<br />
<br />
Those of you who have a senior as well, or who have older children, know why I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, sad, anxious, and stressed these days.<br />
<br />
I’ve been through this before, with my son, and yet that doesn’t really matter. I will be going through this again in four years with another daughter, and yet it will still be overwhelming, stressful and sad.<br />
<br />
What is “this” you ask? Well, if you must ask then you obviously don’t have a child old enough to be <i>applying to college!</i><br />
<br />
It’s not just the application process that is so overwhelming (although trying to gather and organize the transcripts, SAT scores, letters of recommendations, essays and applications can cause a bit of distress, to say the least).<br />
<br />
It’s not just the idea that my daughter will be graduating in nine short months and embarking on a whole new life without me that makes me sad (although coming to the realization that my middle child, the always-smiling, easy-going one, will be moving on to a whole new world with new friends, new opportunities and new experiences does cause me to catch my breath).<br />
<br />
And it’s not just the thought of the plethora of bills, tuition payments, shopping excursions and fees that make me anxious (although I am not looking forward to the Bed, Bath & Beyond trip in August to pick up all those necessities, that will cost me the equivalent of one semester’s tuition payment and will come home with me in the car because “who knew the dorm room was so small.”)<br />
<br />
No, while all those issues are on my mind and causing me some anxiety and sleepless nights (okay, perhaps more than some), the biggest stress in my life right now is <i>other parents</i>!<br />
<br />
Yes, I’m talking to all you parents and well-intentioned adults who just love to talk all about the college application process. <br />
<br />
<i>“Ohhhhh, you have a senior.</i>” (Yes. What gave it away? Perhaps the fact that I just told you that, and was not smiling when I said it!)<br />
<br />
“<i>What an exciting time for you all!</i>” (Exciting? If you think screaming matches, tears and sleepless nights are exciting, then yes, I guess it is! And my daughter isn’t exactly fired up either!)<br />
<br />
“<i>Have you looked at any schools yet?”</i> (Looked at schools? Wow, there’s an idea. I hadn’t thought of that. We were hoping to just close our eyes and point to a school on the map.)<br />
<br />
“<i>I’ve heard Ivy League school 1, 2 and 3 are good schools.</i>” (Really? I hadn’t heard that. Well, we’d rather save some money and go to Just-as-Good State Schools 1, 2 and 3.)<br />
<br />
“<i>What schools are you looking at?”</i> (Like I’m going to tell you, so you can either: 1 – tell me what a “party” school it is; 2 – tell me how your niece hated that school; 3 – repeatedly ask me if she got in to that school; and/or 4 – shake your head in sympathy if she doesn’t get into that school.)<br />
<br />
“<i>My son/daughter (niece/nephew; grandson/granddaughter) has looked at 25 schools, applied to 15 and has been accepted to 10!</i>” (Well good for him/her! Now I can sleep at night!)<br />
<br />
We’ve taken to avoiding cocktail parties and sitting by ourselves at sporting events. We tend to smile and nod when college talk comes up, making vague responses such as “Really?” “Good for them!” and “We’re still looking.”<br />
<br />
Our standard response when we’re asked about colleges: “There’s a school out there for everyone.”<br />
<br />
Now, if it sounds like I’m a bit jaded, you’re right! I was at a party a few years ago when one woman repeatedly pestered a mom about her son, asking her no less than 10 times (I counted) where her son was applying to college. Despite such responses as “He hasn’t decided yet” and “We’re looking around,” this woman would not give up.<br />
<br />
Why? Why do we feel the need to pry? It was obvious that this woman did not want to talk about colleges for whatever reason. Why don’t people get the hint?<br />
<br />
My son was at a Christmas party during his senior year of high school There was a large group of other kids, parents, neighbors and various random adults there, gathered to celebrate the holiday season.<br />
<br />
He told me that an older woman approached his group of friends and asked them where they were going to college. She then proceeded to pick apart each school mentioned, telling them what was good and/or bad with each choice.<br />
<br />
Is this necessary? And is it anyone else’s business? Something my mom taught me comes to mind: “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all!”<br />
<br />
These students are stressed enough (and so are their parents)! If you love(d) the whole college application process, good for you! I’m happy for you (and a little jealous)!<br />
<br />
But I beg you, please be aware that not everyone is as happy or excited as you are. Some of us are a bit overwhelmed and anxious about the whole process. We’re concerned about getting into a school, picking the right school, and paying for that school.<br />
<br />
If you find yourself talking to a high school senior, or parent of a senior, by all means ask how it is going. You can tell right away if that person wants to talk about it further. Take the hint!<br />
<br />
And now, I’m off to College Night (in dark glasses and a baseball cap). <br />
<br />
And so it begins…<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk80h1P5qCDBSjfn4lxztDRo7j6FsKgX6B4WybGaX8VZvGVd3IdGIwTiwZmhs7hrzUHUS_vmh8YtByJzx6GULhjFsjPxRPCGt1XvQsSdi-oBWAB_j7AbuAjyxPW2eiDXe5o2RYkFcmAZ6J/s1600/SAT+Books:college+website+pix.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk80h1P5qCDBSjfn4lxztDRo7j6FsKgX6B4WybGaX8VZvGVd3IdGIwTiwZmhs7hrzUHUS_vmh8YtByJzx6GULhjFsjPxRPCGt1XvQsSdi-oBWAB_j7AbuAjyxPW2eiDXe5o2RYkFcmAZ6J/s320/SAT+Books:college+website+pix.JPG" /></a><br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-35794556514133058202013-10-15T15:46:00.000-04:002013-10-15T15:46:03.758-04:0018 YearsMy mom died 18 years ago today. <br />
<br />
It was a Sunday evening. I had just turned 29 and was 14 weeks pregnant with my second child.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t a complete surprise – my mother had been diagnosed with Leukemia on New Year’s Eve, 1993, eight months after my mother-in-law died of cancer. (1993 was a very difficult year for us, to say the least!)<br />
<br />
My mom was told she had six months to live – she survived almost two years. (Obviously the doctors didn’t know my mother - no one told her what to do!)<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that we knew she was sick, her death was still a shock for our family. Mom had rallied once and was actually told she was in remission for a few months. As they say, with life there is hope.<br />
<br />
While my mom was battling leukemia, my husband and I were facing our own challenge. After suffering one miscarriage, my husband and I had been trying to conceive for over a year. When we were finally given the wonderful news, we hesitated telling anyone until the required three month date, in fear of another disappointment.<br />
<br />
We finally decided to tell my family our good news at my birthday dinner. A few hours before we were to meet, my mom called me. In a voice I had never heard her use, she told me she wouldn’t be able to make it to my dinner, she just wasn’t up to it.<br />
<br />
I knew. My mom would never miss a birthday dinner for any of her six children. I knew.<br />
<br />
When we were initially told our due date by the doctor, I was concerned. It was such a long way away for all of us. But I hoped and prayed that my mom would be there to see her newest grandchild. <br />
<br />
With one phone call, that hope was dashed. I knew that wouldn’t happen.<br />
<br />
In the bravest voice I could muster, I told my mom “No worries” and that I’d see her soon. Then I hung up the phone and cried, and cried, and cried.<br />
<br />
I was torn. What to do? Call my mom back on the phone and tell her I was pregnant, or wait until we were all together again. I picked up the phone and shared my “good news” with her. In hindsight, it was probably the most important phone call I ever made.<br />
<br />
The next day, my mother was rushed to the hospital. She died two days later. Had I not told her at that moment that I was pregnant, I know I wouldn’t have had the chance to tell her at all. <br />
<br />
Was it the right choice? Yes, I think so. I hope so. I like to think my mom got a little bit of good news amidst her pain. And I know I felt better knowing that, while she may never meet my child, she knew another grandchild was on its way into our family.<br />
<br />
As they say, life goes on. Six months later, my beautiful, sweet, easy-going daughter was born. From the beginning, she was a joy. She loved to be held by anyone and everyone and slept through the night at six weeks (unlike her brother). I have no doubt she was a gift from my mother.<br />
<br />
I remember looking at my daughter’s face when she was born and wishing that my mom could see her. And now, 18 years later, I still wish that. I do believe my mom is up in heaven watching over us, but it sure would be nice to have one more moment with her, just to “catch up!” <br />
<br />
18 years … <br />
<br />
I miss you Mom.<br />
<br />
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Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-65810785618041250602013-09-30T20:04:00.000-04:002013-09-30T20:04:21.624-04:00October: Kindness is Your Name<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69vReCgaNL4BWCtgvdbhObKCGqCBsIt67sk2bLMTfM9oxqCync1QHMnhsEa4AC2-yQsgavIAdRWfTFZZkT_3nKQ1Tm2SqPs1AXBVX4_82CeusnWqQpzjvV5jhIt0LbR4m69e7B97DoAc4/s1600/Random+Acts+of+Kindness.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69vReCgaNL4BWCtgvdbhObKCGqCBsIt67sk2bLMTfM9oxqCync1QHMnhsEa4AC2-yQsgavIAdRWfTFZZkT_3nKQ1Tm2SqPs1AXBVX4_82CeusnWqQpzjvV5jhIt0LbR4m69e7B97DoAc4/s320/Random+Acts+of+Kindness.png" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is October 1. I’m sure you’re all aware of that, but I thought I’d point this out to you for a few reasons. <br />
<br />
1. It’s the first day of one of my favorite months (not the least of which is because it is my birthday and anniversary month).<br />
2. I have finally accepted the fact that summer is over and I am enjoying these sunny fall days and cool evenings and not missing the beach at all (okay, hardly at all).<br />
3. I can now legitimately wear my sweaters and boots without feeling like I’m pushing the season.<br />
4. It’s my birthday month. (Did I mention that?)<br />
<br />
To celebrate this month, I’ve decided to make October my<b> Random Acts of Kindness</b> <b>Month</b>! <br />
<br />
If you’ve read my blog, you know one of my mom’s favorite sayings was “<i>Kindness is your name</i>.” October is also meaningful to me because it is the month my mom died so, in her honor, I dedicate this month to fulfilling her wish. During the month of October, my name will be kindness. <br />
<br />
I’ve tried to start this tradition in the past but the craziness of life always took over and made me forget. I have discovered that if I don’t write something down, I just can’t remember it. (Sad, isn’t it.)<br />
<br />
This time, I’ve decided to jot down one act of kindness I will perform each day in October. I’m also trying not to break the bank with this project because I firmly believe kindness doesn’t require a lot of money. Having said this, my goal is to spend less than $5 (and in some cases nothing at all) each day to brighten the day of someone else – be it a friend, family member, neighbor or stranger.<br />
<br />
Here’s my agenda for the month:<br />
<br />
<b>31 Acts of Kindness for the Month of October<i></i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Oct. 1</b> – Remember someone in your thoughts/prayers. I am attending a retreat so I plan on keeping friends and family members in my prayers.<br />
<b>Oct. 2</b> – Leave a “Take What You Need” flyer at your local library/grocery store. Here’s the one I will be posting.<a href="http://reboscraps.blogspot.com/2012/11/take-what-you-need.html.">Take What You Need</a><br />
<b>Oct. 3 –</b> Drop off homemade goodies to a neighbor who you feel could use a special pick-me-up, with a note telling them how special they are.<br />
<b>Oct. 4</b> – Volunteer with a local charity for the day. I volunteer with <a href="http://www.conkerrcancer.org">ConKerr Cancer</a> and will be delivering pillowcases to a local hospital and Ronald McDonald House for those children suffering from life-changing illnesses.<br />
<b>Oct. 5</b> – Email someone who has helped you in the past and tell them (again) how much their guidance meant to you.<br />
<b>Oct. 6</b> – Call a family member and tell them how much you love and appreciate them.<br />
<b>Oct. 7</b> – Compliment a stranger. “Pretty dress” “Nice tie” or “Cute shoes” will cheer anyone up, especially on a Monday.<br />
<b>Oct. 8</b> – Mentor a child. I am on the board of a local organization that mentors high school girls. We will be holding a seminar today discussing the importance of self-esteem and self-confidence in teen girls.<br />
<b>Oct. 9</b> – Pay a little extra on your overdue fees at the library and give someone else the gift of a free day of reading!<br />
<b>Oct. 10</b> – Pick up trash in your neighborhood that’s been discarded on lawns and curbs. <br />
<b>Oct. 11</b> – Bring in your neighbor’s trash cans on trash/recycling day.<br />
<b>Oct. 12</b> – Make your kids’ beds today. <br />
<b>Oct. 13</b> – Spread the word about a friend’s start-up business. (<a href="http://theclovermarket.com">Clover Market</a>, an outdoor vintage, collectibles and craft market in Ardmore, PA is open today from 10-5. Come check it out!)<br />
<b>Oct. 14</b> – Call a friend and ask how they are, and then just listen. It’s nice to have someone ask about you for a change.<br />
<b>Oct. 15</b> – Drop off dinner to a friend/neighbor in need.<br />
<b>Oct. 16</b> – Surprise the kids with a homemade breakfast. If your house is anything like mine on a weekday, breakfast is often a Poptart or granola bar on the run. Make them pancakes or homemade waffles for a nice surprise on Hump Day!<br />
<b>Oct. 17</b> – Return the shopping cart – yours or someone elses – to its rightful location at the grocery store.<br />
<b>Oct. 18</b> – Donate canned goods to your local Church or food bank.<br />
<b>Oct. 19</b> – Say “Yes” when a cashier asks you if you want to donate $1 to a local charity.<br />
<b>Oct. 20</b> – October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month! Spread the word and encourage your mother/sister/friend/neighbor (or yourself) to get a mammogram.<br />
<b>Oct. 21</b> – Tell your family you love them! And give them a hug and a kiss! (And <i>Happy Anniversary</i> to my wonderful husband for 24 great years!)<br />
<b>Oct. 22</b> – Donate those clothes that don’t fit anymore! Someone will be thrilled with them.<br />
<b>Oct. 23</b> – Donate a tray of baked goods and/or money to your child’s school/sports bake sale. <br />
<b>Oct. 24</b> – Thank your mailman with a plate of cookies or a simple note. (Sure it’s nice to be walking the neighborhood in October, but come February it’s the last thing anyone wants to do!)<br />
<b>Oct. 25</b> – Thank the trash men too! It’s a dirty job but thank goodness these men have stepped up to do it!<br />
<b>Oct. 26</b> – Tell a parent something good about their child. So often we hear/see the bad about our children; it’s nice when someone shares the positive about our little darlings!<br />
<b>Oct. 27</b> – Share a positive quote on FaceBook or Twitter.<br />
<b>Oct. 28</b> – Bring baked goods to a meeting.<br />
<b>Oct. 29</b> – Surprise someone with flowers, just because!<br />
<b>Oct. 30</b> – Let someone in front of you in line at the grocery store or in the carpool line. <br />
<b>Oct. 31</b> – <i>Happy Halloween</i>! While the kids always get the candy, don’t forget the parents who are schlepping them around the neighborhood! A piece of candy, bottle of water (or adult beverage if they are walking) is always appreciated!<br />
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That’s my plan for the month of October. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love to hear your ideas for random acts of kindness. Or, if you’ve done this before, tell me how you felt after each act or how the person you bestowed your kindness upon responded to you. October, kindness is your name! Let’s do this!<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-48523080247605634932013-09-23T10:45:00.002-04:002013-09-23T10:45:45.278-04:00Calling All Women: Are You Up for the Challenge?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKj5WgYUOKte2oW1sE_9LhgznQeT07YeqEU6YlXnze2Tx93twIHHq_6y3TYwvFr4sLVNOZOFMXw8xzhfelEcE1lGvQPxwDMeo53vpoM5u6qKCK_DbU4FDWAGgh8iWp299FbBjzLVu3UBfk/s1600/STOP+button.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKj5WgYUOKte2oW1sE_9LhgznQeT07YeqEU6YlXnze2Tx93twIHHq_6y3TYwvFr4sLVNOZOFMXw8xzhfelEcE1lGvQPxwDMeo53vpoM5u6qKCK_DbU4FDWAGgh8iWp299FbBjzLVu3UBfk/s400/STOP+button.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I was browsing Twitter the other day and came across the following tweet from HuffPostWomen: Dear women: stop doing these 23 things.<br />
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This caught my attention for two reasons: I don’t like to be told what to do (and not to do) and I love lists! I had to read further.<br />
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Written by Emma Gray, the article was entitled: <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/09/11/23-things-every-woman-should-stop-doing_n_3908151.html">23 Things Every Woman Should Stop Doing</a> I highly suggest you check it out when you get a chance.<br />
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Reading it over, I soon discovered that I was currently guilty of doing six of the 23 things on a consistent basis and, at some point in my life time, I have been guilty of all of them.<br />
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I won’t overwhelm you with all 23 transgressions but I will share with you my 6 deadly sins: <br />
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1. <b>Apologizing all the time</b>. Not only is this number one on <i>this</i> list but it is also number one on <i>my</i> list of things I have been trying to stop myself from doing. A few years ago, some of my friends decided to play tennis, something many of us hadn’t done in years. Our first rule: No apologizing for bad shots. Here’s how that went: “Oops, sorry.” “Oops, sorry about saying sorry.” We couldn’t get through the game without apologizing. If you watch NCIS, you may know Gibb’s Rule #6: Never apologize. While I hesitate to say never, I do say, be aware of this word – and use it sparingly!<br />
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2. <b>Bodysnarking – out loud or in your own head.</b> While I initially didn’t know the official definition of bodysnarking (rudely talking about a person’s body – thanks Urban Dictionary), the brief explanation of “stop putting your looks down” resonated with me. I was forever doing this until very recently. What stopped me? My daughters! I realized I didn’t want them to look at themselves as critically as I looked at myself. The old “practice what you preach” lesson rang in my head. It’s a hard habit to break, especially as we get older, but one I am determined to halt, for my daughters’ sake and my own.<br />
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3. <b>Obsessively untagging every “unflattering” photo of you that ever existed online.</b> I will take that one step further and say to stop ducking out of pictures in general. I am always the first to volunteer to take the picture so I don’t have to be in it. It was getting so bad that I worried my grandchildren would ask my children if they even had a mother growing up. This summer, I decided enough was enough. Now, I smile, look happy and hope for the best! <br />
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4. <b>Holding on to regrets and GUILT</b> (the caps are my addition). Having attended 16 years of Catholic schools, I can confidently say that the whole “Catholic guilt” thing is alive and well and living in my head. I need to get it out, NOW! How? Still working on it. I tend to obsess over remarks and comments that either I said to others, or were said to me, and pick apart every reflection and word. Anyone else have this problem? I do know it isn’t healthy, or productive, but knowing something and practicing it are two very different things.<br />
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5. <b>Spending time with people out of obligation.</b> Why do I feel the need to keep acquaintances, even if they’re toxic? I think I’m afraid to hurt their feelings. And I have some unrealistic desire to want everyone to like me. (And if you need further reason as to why I do this, see #4) I finally have decided that my time is precious, and if someone is going to bring me down, rather than lift me up, they aren’t worth it.<br />
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6. <b>Being embarrassed about your interests.</b> I’m a bit of a book nerd. I also love to watch <i>In The Kitchen with David</i> on QVC Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings (can you do the Happy Dance?) and I watch a few of the <i>Real Housewives</i> series. There, I said it. And it wasn’t so hard. (Okay, I am cringing a little and worrying about what you all will think of me, but hey, see #4 – I’m over it!) If someone is going to judge me or make fun of me, than I probably didn’t want them as a friend anyway! And I will keep repeating that to myself even if I get snarky comments. <br />
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As the article states, women “often drive ourselves insane striving for perfection in our experiences, relationships and selves.” I say enough is enough. HuffPost Women issued a challenge to all women to stop doing these things. I never back down from a challenge. Anyone care to join me?<br />
Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-1121403160301226562013-09-12T12:00:00.000-04:002013-09-12T12:00:02.874-04:00My newest obsessionI think I am a closet photographer. I don't have the talent, or creativity, to take professional pictures, but I am becoming a bit obsessed with <a href="http://instagram.com">Instagram</a> ! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7UxaAfEd55bxZGeZyINz3IXy2rAF2v7Drk9Nmm8cPJlZ8vA2Z4LNUAF9UWzHGOt-41fuB2N0Czxqt2Ze0-kB5ANqfyYKj2uojtzXINlaenSNy7hUDQPI-ddq06EIyWhyaBlhSz4bHl4oH/s1600/Instagram.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7UxaAfEd55bxZGeZyINz3IXy2rAF2v7Drk9Nmm8cPJlZ8vA2Z4LNUAF9UWzHGOt-41fuB2N0Czxqt2Ze0-kB5ANqfyYKj2uojtzXINlaenSNy7hUDQPI-ddq06EIyWhyaBlhSz4bHl4oH/s320/Instagram.PNG" /></a></div>Anyone else find themselves browsing through this addicting app while waiting in line at the grocery store? Or in the carpool line? Or watching TV at night? Or making dinner?<br />
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Yes? Then I have the activity for you. (And if you answered "No" than you obviously have a more interesting life than I do so hey, give me a call and invite me over some time!)<br />
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Next week, I will be joining <a href="http://www.thesitsgirls.com">The SITS Girls</a> and their <a href="http://www.thesitsgirls.com/photography/photo-challenge-instagram/">Instagram Photo Challenge</a> !<br />
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This is a one-week challenge to share photos, meet others and share our obsession! <br />
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I think the reason I enjoy Instagram so much is because the picture (usually) is all that is needed to convey your feelings or thoughts at that moment. Now, you may be wondering why a writer doesn't want to use words. My answer: sometimes words, or at least a lot of words, are unnecessary. <br />
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As that great philosopher, Dr. Seuss, once said, "The writer who breeds more words than he needs is making a chore for the reader who reads." <br />
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Sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words.<br />
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If you want to join The Photo Challenge, check out the link above. <br />
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And if you want to follow me on Instagram, I'm <a href="http://instagram.com/katewkopp">Here</a> !<br />
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Happy snapping!Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5280199229040912893.post-24790865573415910792013-09-05T07:11:00.001-04:002013-09-05T07:11:29.894-04:00Stop the Glorification of Busy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdd5qJHZPZZdkwesy1eWoHwalEeEWDP5Vvhd_3SBbv5w3DZ1KPocPgSx_tmsgdjzk9mhbhGd-PFfWDYPGebwJGCVq3gj0JvLM4Io-JKNb7dZGpwmFMb2xyafiIIiltPBkIHEXQkveR8Qf0/s1600/Stop+the+Glorification+of+Busy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdd5qJHZPZZdkwesy1eWoHwalEeEWDP5Vvhd_3SBbv5w3DZ1KPocPgSx_tmsgdjzk9mhbhGd-PFfWDYPGebwJGCVq3gj0JvLM4Io-JKNb7dZGpwmFMb2xyafiIIiltPBkIHEXQkveR8Qf0/s200/Stop+the+Glorification+of+Busy.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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I was browsing <a href="www.pinterest.com">Pinterest</a> this summer and noticed the above quote, and it just stopped me in my tracks. Finally someone has expressed, in just five words, what I have been feeling and experiencing for years now.<br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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I cannot tell you how many times I have been in a conversation with someone and it feels like we are trying to outdo each other with horror stories of how busy we are.<br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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When I started my blog a few years ago, a friend (a very good friend) called me when she discovered my blog to tell me, specifically, that it must be nice to have the time to sit and write a blog. She didn’t call to congratulate me or tell me how happy she was for me that I had found a new outlet for my passion. No, she called to tell me that she was just <i>too busy</i> to do something so superfluous. (And she has never mentioned my blog to me again.)<br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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I love to read (as you know if you read any of my posts). Books relax me, take me away to other places, teach me, and entertain me. I joined <a href="http://www.goodreads.com">Goodreads</a> a few years ago and use it not only to find new books but also to keep a running list of the books I have read. Recently I was telling a friend of my goal to read 65 books this year – a lofty goal but one I am enjoying accomplishing. Her response to me? You guessed it. Wow, I wish <i>I</i> had the time to read that much.<br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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I think we feel more important if we say how busy we are. I think we feel we are being judged negatively if we respond to the question “What did you do this weekend?” with the answer “Relaxed!” I think we all need to…<br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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I cannot imagine anyone’s life is so busy that they don’t have time for some sort of hobby or outlet. Whether it is exercise, shopping, browsing the internet, social media or reading, most people fill their free time – no matter how long or short that is – with some sort of distraction. Sadly, I think many of us are just too embarrassed to admit it. We fear others will think we are slacking. After all, the busier we are the more important we are, right? Wrong! <br />
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A few weeks ago, I spent the morning at my daughter’s swim meet. I chose to separate myself from the crowd and stand on the hill overlooking the pool. What I observed and overheard saddened me. It was like watching ants in action – people never stopped. Very few just sat and watched their kids swim. Moms were buzzing around buying drinks for their kids, folding towels for their kids, organizing pool bags, and generally hovering over children who were old enough to take care of themselves, while Dads were giving their kids advice about flip turns and strokes, checking stop watches for their kid’s times, shouting their kid’s names over and over again while the meet was going on, and slapping the backs of other fathers comparing notes on times and who knows what else.<br />
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Then, just as the meet was wrapping up, the cell phones came out in earnest. Suddenly, the air took on an even more frenzied feel, as plans for the rest of the day were being discussed. Baseball games, softball practices, tee times, tennis matches, work appointments – all were being scheduled and dissected. On to the next activity!<br />
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When did Saturday afternoon become so exhausting? When did life become so exhausting? <br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i><br />
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Is anyone else tired of it all? Does anyone else feel like slowing down a bit and jumping off the treadmill – even for just a little while – and enjoying life rather than complaining about it.<br />
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I propose a challenge to you. Stop using the word “busy” for the rest of the month. I’m going to try. Can you do it?<br />
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<i>Stop the glorification of busy!</i>Katehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01082083771212566493noreply@blogger.com2