Just

Just. It's just a word. Just.

The word "just" can be used in so many ways. Some good, some bad, some hurtful, some insignificant. "You're 'just' a mom." "'Just' do it!" "I 'just' want to be lazy."

I was a stay-at-home mom for many years. I don't regret it. We went without designer clothing, lavish vacations and expensive cars, but I was there to be the one to take care of my kids always. It was right for me; and for them. I support women in any decision they make, be it to work outside the home or not; to go to school or not; to be involved in their kids activities or not. The one phrase I have never used to describe another mom is, "You are just..."

There are ways to use the word to motivate the youngens. "'Just' do it!" "'Just' suck it up!" "'Just' get out there and look for a job!" "'Just' get OVER it!" "Life 'just' isn't fair." We were put on this Earth in 'just' our skin. The rest we have to work for. We must exhibit careful use of this word to encourage our kids, for if we use it in a painful way, ie "You're 'just' like your father," or "You're 'just' so lazy," it can cause a huge setback in what we parents are trying so hard to accomplish with our kids--teaching them how to sprout wings and fly. Our babies are 'just' wonderful and we 'just' want them to be happy.

"Just" go out there and make it a good day. Any day that you open your eyes in the morning is another opportunity to made a day special. It doesn't have to be something big. If I can make 'just' one person smile, my day has been the epitome of success.

How Can They Do That?

Stumbling down the stairs on Friday, March 11, 2011, all I could think of was putting a cup of java in my hands, inhaling deeply and tasting the goodness of the bean. I was met with a news report of a 9.9 magnitude earthquake in Japan, unbelievable footage of a giant tsunami and Andy's words, "It's headed towards Hawaii." My friend, Lisa, popped into my head and I heard myself say, "Oh, no." I couldn't take my eyes off the TV screen as they played the same thing over and over. I was mesmerized, watching thousands of gallons of water grabbing cars, boats and houses and depositing them far from their origination. Natural disasters never cease to amaze me. The damage they cause is devastating and then it's over, sometimes in a matter of minutes. I can remember when I was a child one of the few times we actually had a tornado. At that time, it was a given that you wouldn't have power for at least several hours, so we would pile in the car after the danger was over and drive around to assess the damage. Seeing it through the eyes of a child never leaves you. I was in such disbelief and that feeling returned seeing the tsunami and the ruins it left behind. We've heard the stories about people being reunited with each other or their dogs. But mostly there have been tears and heartache at the loss of family and property. As if that isn't bad enough, the fate of a nuclear power plant lies in the balance. I've heard people say that we, meaning the eastcoasters, won't be affected, but according to a bevy of news reports, they have measured radiation in the air as far as Massachusetts and now Florida. Thankfully, as of yet, no one close to me has been affected directly. So nuclear plants are built on faults. Why? You can't just dispose of it's contents. Reports say that radiation-tainted water is now being dumped into the Pacific. How does that NOT affect ALL of us? There is something wrong when a natural disaster turns into a human-created disaster. And what does that say about humankind?

Spring in Central New York

March. The promise of Spring is clearly in view. My husband reported a Robin sighting last week. My dad and I had a contest every year and whomever saw the first Robin of the season would call the other and sufficiently rub it in their face. I think my dad is smiling just a little at the thought that Andy beat me in seeing the first one for 2011. I am smiling, too.

Other signs of Spring in Central New York? The sidewalk! It is visible and we walk on it joyfully without the fear of slipping off the three inches of ice buildup that was there just last week before all that rain that fell and melted it away. The last bit of ice is ready to fall off of the roof and I'm actually looking forward to Spring clean-up. Ah yes, Spring. I can smell it.

And speaking of smells, we really need to get out there and clean up all the Max deposits that have collected. I could use many words to describe it. I could go on and on but I think "ewww" pretty much says it all. He's a big dog. We'll leave it at that.

The potholes are massive this year. At least one could be mistaken for the hole Alice fell down. Be careful! If you find yourself tumbling down, falling, falling only see a White Rabbit running around, crazily chanting how late he is, it might be time to fill that darn thing in.

As much as we complain about the snow at this time of the year (I think I speak for almost everyone when I say, "Enough is enough!") all the dirt and grime under the newer-fallen stuff shows it's ugliness and the mud is so abundant that every slope is a slippery slope.

Now on to my biggest pet peeve about the Spring.....parking. I drive aimlessly around the parking garage every morning looking at cars whose drivers clearly do not know how to park between the lines. As I drive by the fourth or fifth car that has taken up two spots, I begin to feel a twinge of Evelyn Couch when the young girl took her parking place and I want to scream, "Towanda! Righter of Wrongs, Queen Beyond Compare!" And then I want to push one of the idiot-parkers out of the way and skip merrily along my way. I would plead insanity. No court would convict me.

On March 13, we Spring ahead. Daylight savings time affords us more light at the end of our days! March 20, we will welcome Spring 2011! Yes, bring it on! Bring your mud, your rain and your wind. You will also bring sunshine, flowers and warmth. Everything wakes up and comes alive again in the Spring. It's a time for new beginnings, rebirth and re-connections.

Thank you, Spring.

Die-Hard Disney Girl

I am a Disney girl and I'm proud of it. I didn't know I was a Disney girl when I was young. Sure I watched the Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday nights at seven o'clock just like everyone else did. I loved the non-animated Cinderella with Stuart Damon and Leslie Ann Warren. I wanted to be a Princess; wanted someone to come and sweep me off my feet; wanted someone to look at me like the Prince looked at her.

I was 14 the first time I went to Disneyworld. It was Spring break in 1975 and the Magic Kingdom was the only park open at the time. It was magical! I had never been anyplace that spectacular and the fireworks were like nothing I could even describe. I knew I wanted to go back but it wouldn't happen for a very long time.

Fast forward to 1997, I'm shopping at Carousel Center pushing my three-year-old in a stroller. I had been a stay-at-home mom since 1981 and I figured maybe I should apply for a part-time job just to get out of the house and earn a few bucks for fun. I had always said that if I ever decided to go to work, I would go directly to Disney Store. There was no other place I wanted to work. So in I went, pushing that stroller, wearing sweat pants and a men's flannel shirt and sporting some left over big hair from the 80's. Looking back, I'm surprised I got a call back.

I had NO experience with work. They gave me a chance and that was the beginning of my transformation. I must thank them for that. I learned that I was important; that I could do a job and be praised for it; that I was part of a team. I developed a voice. I found strength to do what I had to do in ending my marriage. It was still hard, but I had courage. My Disney Store experience was the beginning of the road that led me to where I am now.

The next time I set foot in Disneyworld, I was weeks away from my 43rd birthday. Now with four parks and two water parks to visit, I was absolutely hooked. It was apparent that this would be our vacation spot many times in the future. I took my two youngest back two more times and after finding the man of my dreams, we went back with him and his youngest and his step-daughter and had a blast introducing them to the wonders of Disney.

Now at fifty, I am still a Disney girl. A die-hard Disney girl. And now, I have my Prince.

I Am 50

I am fifty.

When you're a child, fifty is a lifetime away. Waking up on a sunny, Summer morning and eating my cereal, anticipating the day, my plan was always to play as much as I could stuff into the daylight hours. Fifty would be a time when life would be over. It was so old.

I was a dirty kid. I wasn't like my sister, who was quiet, a reader, a good student, and CLEAN! I was the loud, rough and tumble, lemme play in the mud puddle no matter how many time my aunt scolded my cousin and me for doing it kind of kid. I was a Tomboy. My dad, of course, wanted a boy. Well, I was as close as he got. I rode the tractor with him, walked behind the tractor in the garden while he plowed, played softball using his childhood baseball bat and was a Virgo just like him. We understood each other well.

So what the heck happened? I'm fifty. FIFTY! The calendar can't be right. Yes, I know it's just a number and you're only as old as you feel. Some days are younger days than others, if you know what I mean. Fifty brings many changes. My body is a totally different body than what I started with. What used to be firm is not exactly in the same spot anymore. What used to be thin, not so much. My hair color comes from a bottle because it has deceived me by letting the color drain right out of it. My feet hate me. Who knew so many things could happen to your feet at the same time?

BUT, fifty has changed my life in a way that I find hard to explain. It's much like what forty did for me only better. It's not that I don't care what people think about me. I don't base my decisions on what people will think of me. I can't live like that because I don't play the shoulda-coulda-woulda game. It's too much work and will make me crazy. So I have learned to live life in the moment and I'm teaching my kids the same.

Another thing that getting older has done for me is allowed me to find my voice. After being in a bad marriage for almost 25 years (and no, all those years weren't bad, per se, but they led up to the really bad ones) I found the strength and the courage to leave. I had no education and no job but was determined to make a break after things happened that were beyond my control that destroyed the marriage. It wasn't easy, especially with a dying father and a mother who loved the shoulda-coulda-woulda game and warned me that things wouldn't be easy, implying maybe I should stay because of money. I assured her that while I may struggle, I would be happy.

And happy, I am. Five years after my divorce was final, I remarried. If there is such a thing, this man is my soulmate. He holds my heart in his hands and treats it as if it was gold. He takes my hand in his at church as we pray together. He looks at me like I'm the only woman in the world. I love him more than I can say in words. We were both single parents with custody of our kids. Our exes are out of town by 3000 and 6000 miles. We didn't have children together, but we share our children and we have formed a loving family. We are being grandparents together. We have nine children and seven grandchildren between us with one more coming in February. It's the Brady Bunch on steroids! Life is good.

I am fifty.