Last night I went to a Cubs game with my husband and about 15 other people on a bus from the YMCA...it was a good time, even though the Cubbies broke my husband's heart for the umpteenth time. On the drive back, he sat in the seat behind me. While I was taking a little snooze in my seat, leaned over resting my head on my arm, my husband rubbed the kinks out of my shoulders. For almost the entire ride. I felt so very loved to fall asleep on a bouncy bus while my dearest put away his own tired feelings for me. When we finally made it home and were in bed for the night I returned the favor by gently rubbing his back until he feel asleep. I felt just as loved doing that for him as I did when we was doing it for me.
The little things are the things that keep me going. The private joke. The funny face. The silly note. The touch of a hand on my shoulder. The kiss on the forehead. The cupcakes on a Saturday morning after a bad week. His knowing I am going to start crying as soon as we cross the Tennessee/Kentucky border on our way from from visiting my family, and knowing I won't stop crying until we hit Paducah. Coming up with a new way to tell me goodbye everyone morning (today was "Have a Terrific Tuesday! I love you!). Laughing so hard we cry. Dancing in the aisles of the grocery store. Singing at the top of our lungs in the shower, and the car, and the kitchen, and everywhere. Quoting movies as an entire conversation.
So many little things that we do for each other and together...I love them all.
The little things make my marriage wonderful and fresh everyday. Take time for those little things.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Getting Involved - Giving Back
JR and I went to our local library on Saturday to get new library cards. It has been years since either of us actually had a library card. It was something we decided to do as members of our new community. Later that day, we went to the village jubilee - food vendors, live music, bingo, carnival rides, and fireworks. We really enjoyed it, and we even chatted with some of the Jaycees we knew when we were involved with them before. We are considering joining the chapter in our new community. I am already looking forward to other opportunities at the library and in the village for us to give back.
JR and I met through the Jaycees, volunteering, running projects, attending social events, etc. I've volunteered at the YMCA where he works. We've volunteered together for other organizations in the area. I always attend the Kiwanis Pancake Breakfast (and not only because my husband mixes up a mean pancake batter!). We seek out other community organizations nearby who are hosting pancake breakfasts (I LOVE pancakes).
As my relationship with my husband developed, I looked up to him for the unselfish ways he gave back. I admired his ability to silently do things that needed to be done. He made me want to be a better person, and he still does. When we moved into our home, we decided we would get involved in our new community. We were both raised to give back what we could, and we want to keep that tradition going.
We can't always give monetarily, but do we have to? I think the time and sweat and effort we put into making something better for others is just as important. I can very easily give up my Saturday to help some kids celebrate Christmas who would not otherwise be able to. I can just as easily call out bingo numbers at a retirement home (even though JR is much better at the calling). I can lift a moderate amount of weight, so bring on the heavy boxes full of food for families in need. Getting involved and giving back is silently rewarding. That warm-fuzzy feeling is all I need to get through the day.
JR and I met through the Jaycees, volunteering, running projects, attending social events, etc. I've volunteered at the YMCA where he works. We've volunteered together for other organizations in the area. I always attend the Kiwanis Pancake Breakfast (and not only because my husband mixes up a mean pancake batter!). We seek out other community organizations nearby who are hosting pancake breakfasts (I LOVE pancakes).
As my relationship with my husband developed, I looked up to him for the unselfish ways he gave back. I admired his ability to silently do things that needed to be done. He made me want to be a better person, and he still does. When we moved into our home, we decided we would get involved in our new community. We were both raised to give back what we could, and we want to keep that tradition going.
We can't always give monetarily, but do we have to? I think the time and sweat and effort we put into making something better for others is just as important. I can very easily give up my Saturday to help some kids celebrate Christmas who would not otherwise be able to. I can just as easily call out bingo numbers at a retirement home (even though JR is much better at the calling). I can lift a moderate amount of weight, so bring on the heavy boxes full of food for families in need. Getting involved and giving back is silently rewarding. That warm-fuzzy feeling is all I need to get through the day.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Sisters
Today's storm has led my brain into one of those train-of-consciousness-type nostalgia sessions...
It begins with my trip to the Wilton Tent Sale with my baby sister Deanna last weekend...we had breakfast with our husbands, her daughter, and our brother's daughter at McDonald's. She and I walked over to the tent sale while the boys took the girls to the park. We had such a great time walking up and down the aisles and picking out things we loved or needed or really, really wanted...It was great to spend time with my sister in that way: as adults, as friends, with such a relaxed agenda.
As we approached checkout, the bottom fell out of the sky. It was pouring, and we had left the car at McDonald's--all the way across the big Wilton parking lot...so, we wrapped up our purchases in the big plastic garbage bags they gave us, and we started out. We didn't run. We didn't scream. We laughed. We laughed HARD. We stomped in a couple of puddles. We smiled so big it hurt our faces. We had a great time walking in the rain, arm in arm, as sisters and friends. We felt like kids again. We both said aloud how lucky we felt to be spending this time together since we are so far apart geographically.
A turn in my memory lane led me to hunkering down in the middle hallway of my parents' home during a heavy storm with my middle sister Teresa when we were teenagers. We were at home alone, and when the storm started we completely freaked out. We thought for sure a tornado was going to come rip the house off the foundation and send us flying. We were holding hands, and we had written a "if you find us" note (I have never claimed to NOT be dramatic...). We can laugh about it now, but it was one of the few times --ever-- that I've spent that kind of quality time with Teresa.
Deanna and I were fast friends as children. She is almost six years younger than me, and she clung onto me with all her might as a kid. We hit a rough patch when I left for college, wide-eyed and ready to meet the world head-on. She felt abandoned, and I had no idea...years later, as she was starting her marriage and I was settling into Chicago as my long-term home, we grew closer again. She's my first best friend. I cherish her, and I am so happy that we can still laugh in the rain together.
Teresa and I were constant competitors. She is almost two years younger than me, and she was always held up to a standard by others that I didn't even know I had set...I ached for her to appreciate the things I did as the older sister. I wanted to be friends with her and be able to hang out with her. She wanted little to nothing to do with me. I tried so hard for so very long to develop a relationship with her. I still put forth an effort, but I know I've given up some hope. I love her dearly, but I feel lost when I try to put into words what our relationship is or should be.
I know other sisters who have long-distance friendships, who have strained relationships, who have come back into the lives of each other, who have not spoken in years... I know of sisters in pain because they cannot be together.
Let me tell you something: Nobody is ever going to know you as well as the sister you grew up with. Nobody else is going to know the perfect thing to say to make it all better and to make it all come crashing down. Nobody else will be able to have an entire conversation with you that nobody else can even begin to comprehend, whether it's facial gestures, nonsensical words, or a specific giggle. Nobody else can make you feel like dirt and just as quickly make you feel like the queen of the universe (or co-queen, anyway).
Love your sisters. If you don't have biological sisters, love your sister-friends.
It begins with my trip to the Wilton Tent Sale with my baby sister Deanna last weekend...we had breakfast with our husbands, her daughter, and our brother's daughter at McDonald's. She and I walked over to the tent sale while the boys took the girls to the park. We had such a great time walking up and down the aisles and picking out things we loved or needed or really, really wanted...It was great to spend time with my sister in that way: as adults, as friends, with such a relaxed agenda.
As we approached checkout, the bottom fell out of the sky. It was pouring, and we had left the car at McDonald's--all the way across the big Wilton parking lot...so, we wrapped up our purchases in the big plastic garbage bags they gave us, and we started out. We didn't run. We didn't scream. We laughed. We laughed HARD. We stomped in a couple of puddles. We smiled so big it hurt our faces. We had a great time walking in the rain, arm in arm, as sisters and friends. We felt like kids again. We both said aloud how lucky we felt to be spending this time together since we are so far apart geographically.
A turn in my memory lane led me to hunkering down in the middle hallway of my parents' home during a heavy storm with my middle sister Teresa when we were teenagers. We were at home alone, and when the storm started we completely freaked out. We thought for sure a tornado was going to come rip the house off the foundation and send us flying. We were holding hands, and we had written a "if you find us" note (I have never claimed to NOT be dramatic...). We can laugh about it now, but it was one of the few times --ever-- that I've spent that kind of quality time with Teresa.
Deanna and I were fast friends as children. She is almost six years younger than me, and she clung onto me with all her might as a kid. We hit a rough patch when I left for college, wide-eyed and ready to meet the world head-on. She felt abandoned, and I had no idea...years later, as she was starting her marriage and I was settling into Chicago as my long-term home, we grew closer again. She's my first best friend. I cherish her, and I am so happy that we can still laugh in the rain together.
Teresa and I were constant competitors. She is almost two years younger than me, and she was always held up to a standard by others that I didn't even know I had set...I ached for her to appreciate the things I did as the older sister. I wanted to be friends with her and be able to hang out with her. She wanted little to nothing to do with me. I tried so hard for so very long to develop a relationship with her. I still put forth an effort, but I know I've given up some hope. I love her dearly, but I feel lost when I try to put into words what our relationship is or should be.
I know other sisters who have long-distance friendships, who have strained relationships, who have come back into the lives of each other, who have not spoken in years... I know of sisters in pain because they cannot be together.
Let me tell you something: Nobody is ever going to know you as well as the sister you grew up with. Nobody else is going to know the perfect thing to say to make it all better and to make it all come crashing down. Nobody else will be able to have an entire conversation with you that nobody else can even begin to comprehend, whether it's facial gestures, nonsensical words, or a specific giggle. Nobody else can make you feel like dirt and just as quickly make you feel like the queen of the universe (or co-queen, anyway).
Love your sisters. If you don't have biological sisters, love your sister-friends.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Thirty-five years...
Wow. I remember when my dad turned 30. He had a wife, four kids, a house, two cars, and a career in a tire factory... He felt old, and my mom threw him a surprise party to which all the guests brought gag gifts like denture cream and "old people" vitamins and such...I thought it was so funny 'cause "Daddy was old!" Yep.
When I turned 30 five years ago, the memory of dad's birthday was bittersweet. I realized my dad was NOT old when he turned 30. He's not old now! I realized that I was still in an apartment, not married, no kids...but I had a college degree and a office-job career. My dad celebrated his 30th birthday with friends and family at our house; I celebrated my 30th birthday on Bourbon Street in NOLA with my boyfriend (now husband).
I've come a long way in 35 years...and I still have a long way to go.
Here's to all the 35-year-old girls who just aren't ready to be grown-ups yet...
When I turned 30 five years ago, the memory of dad's birthday was bittersweet. I realized my dad was NOT old when he turned 30. He's not old now! I realized that I was still in an apartment, not married, no kids...but I had a college degree and a office-job career. My dad celebrated his 30th birthday with friends and family at our house; I celebrated my 30th birthday on Bourbon Street in NOLA with my boyfriend (now husband).
I've come a long way in 35 years...and I still have a long way to go.
Here's to all the 35-year-old girls who just aren't ready to be grown-ups yet...
Friday, June 11, 2010
Answers from God
You don't always get the answer you want, and you don't always get an answer WHEN you want it. However, God always does answer your heart-felt prayers.
Think back on your youth when you thought life was hard. What did you pray for? People at school be your friend? The cute boy to ask you out? Good grades? A new bike or car?
What did you get? Not then...but since. What prayers from your youth have been answered SINCE your youth.
I wanted people in school to like me. I was awkward and nerdy and what I call a "floater." I could talk with any clique, but I only had a few really close friends. Over time, however, I have built relationships with new people, grown as a person, and seen how others from my past have grown and redeveloped relationships. I thank God for inspiring facebook so that I can enjoy new-found friendships with long-ago acquaintances and classmates.
I wanted the cute boy to ask me out...Sometimes when the cute boy asked me out, his personality wasn't that cute. My prayers for a life-long companion changed so many times...God was giving me the opportunity to really understand for myself what it was I wanted in a spouse. He helped weed out all the close-but-not-quite-right fellas. Some of them were great guys; they just weren't for me. It may have taken me almost 30 years to meet my forever, but I can't imagine that there is anyone else in the world who is a more perfect match for me. We share a bond in God, which is something I honestly was never really looking for (until God sent him to me).
I always prayed for good grades, and most of the time I got them. College was harder, but that made me work harder to get the grades. God pushed me and gave me a drive that holds true now - I work hard for what I get.
Oh man, did I want a car...I drove my dad's 1977 Bronco in high school, complete with a gun rack in the back window (we all had gun racks...). I called her "Baby," and she was good to me. I really wanted my own car, though...I've had a number of my own cars now, and I worked hard for them, as well. And you know what? All that hard work gave me the strength to get bigger things, like our new house!
God helped me by pushing me in the right direction. He let me fail occasionally so I would understand and value hard work and real love and lasting relationships. He may not answer my prayers when I want or give the answer I am looking for, but He is always there.
Think back on your youth when you thought life was hard. What did you pray for? People at school be your friend? The cute boy to ask you out? Good grades? A new bike or car?
What did you get? Not then...but since. What prayers from your youth have been answered SINCE your youth.
I wanted people in school to like me. I was awkward and nerdy and what I call a "floater." I could talk with any clique, but I only had a few really close friends. Over time, however, I have built relationships with new people, grown as a person, and seen how others from my past have grown and redeveloped relationships. I thank God for inspiring facebook so that I can enjoy new-found friendships with long-ago acquaintances and classmates.
I wanted the cute boy to ask me out...Sometimes when the cute boy asked me out, his personality wasn't that cute. My prayers for a life-long companion changed so many times...God was giving me the opportunity to really understand for myself what it was I wanted in a spouse. He helped weed out all the close-but-not-quite-right fellas. Some of them were great guys; they just weren't for me. It may have taken me almost 30 years to meet my forever, but I can't imagine that there is anyone else in the world who is a more perfect match for me. We share a bond in God, which is something I honestly was never really looking for (until God sent him to me).
I always prayed for good grades, and most of the time I got them. College was harder, but that made me work harder to get the grades. God pushed me and gave me a drive that holds true now - I work hard for what I get.
Oh man, did I want a car...I drove my dad's 1977 Bronco in high school, complete with a gun rack in the back window (we all had gun racks...). I called her "Baby," and she was good to me. I really wanted my own car, though...I've had a number of my own cars now, and I worked hard for them, as well. And you know what? All that hard work gave me the strength to get bigger things, like our new house!
God helped me by pushing me in the right direction. He let me fail occasionally so I would understand and value hard work and real love and lasting relationships. He may not answer my prayers when I want or give the answer I am looking for, but He is always there.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sports
With the Chicago Blackhawks Stanley Cup win last night, I have been thinking about the impact sports has had (or not had) on my life.
Growing up in the middle of four fields in Northwest Tennessee did not lend itself to being a real sports fan (at least of professional sports). Sure, I was very into the Obion County version of Friday Night Lights in high school, even if we did not win very many games. I went to all the basketball games, too. I didn't have a professional team close enough geographically to get too excited about.
Football: The Titans didn't make their debut until I was on my way out of Tennessee. When I was about 13 my dad let me pick which team I would support with the caveat that I stay loyal to that team through thick and thin. I picked the Green Bay Packers. I like green and yellow together. Did I know I would move to the heart of Bears country at the time? Um, no. Upon learning early in our dating life that I was a Packers fan (which he can almost forgive, being his dad is from Wisconsin and is also a Cheese-Head), he looked me square in the eye and said, "Please tell me you are a Cubs fan. I don't think I can date a Packers fan who roots for the White Sox. I said, "Sure. I'm a Cubs fan."
Baseball: The closest team for me growing up was the St. Louis Cardinals. I didn't really care that much about baseball, so I was never a fan. Thank goodness for that - if I had shown up in Chicago as a Packers fan AND a Cardinals fan I never would have married my husband. If there is one other team that is the bane of a Cubs fan besides the White Sox, it is the Cardinals.
Basketball: I thought the Lakers were cool during high school, but I was honestly more interested in my own high school team and some college basketball. I have no qualms in calling myself a Bulls fan today. None at all.
Hockey: Um, yeah. There's only ice in Tennessee about every 4 years, in the form of a massive ice storm...I went to a few hockey games while I lived in Nashville, and I found it very violent. My only earlier exposure to hockey was Mighty Ducks. Yep. A Disney movie. I can say firmly now that I am a Hawks fan (and a Wolves fan), and have been since I moved here. I wouldn't say I am a big fan, but I think it's awesome a Chicago team won a title.
In the last ten years, mostly thanks to my wonderful sports fan of a husband, I have been to professional baseball games (in multiple parks), a professional football game, professional hockey games (Wolves and Blackhawks), professional arena football games (Chicago Rush), a professional soccer game (Chicago Fire), and a professional basketball game (Bulls).
That's pretty good for someone who is a marginal sports fan at best.
Growing up in the middle of four fields in Northwest Tennessee did not lend itself to being a real sports fan (at least of professional sports). Sure, I was very into the Obion County version of Friday Night Lights in high school, even if we did not win very many games. I went to all the basketball games, too. I didn't have a professional team close enough geographically to get too excited about.
Football: The Titans didn't make their debut until I was on my way out of Tennessee. When I was about 13 my dad let me pick which team I would support with the caveat that I stay loyal to that team through thick and thin. I picked the Green Bay Packers. I like green and yellow together. Did I know I would move to the heart of Bears country at the time? Um, no. Upon learning early in our dating life that I was a Packers fan (which he can almost forgive, being his dad is from Wisconsin and is also a Cheese-Head), he looked me square in the eye and said, "Please tell me you are a Cubs fan. I don't think I can date a Packers fan who roots for the White Sox. I said, "Sure. I'm a Cubs fan."
Baseball: The closest team for me growing up was the St. Louis Cardinals. I didn't really care that much about baseball, so I was never a fan. Thank goodness for that - if I had shown up in Chicago as a Packers fan AND a Cardinals fan I never would have married my husband. If there is one other team that is the bane of a Cubs fan besides the White Sox, it is the Cardinals.
Basketball: I thought the Lakers were cool during high school, but I was honestly more interested in my own high school team and some college basketball. I have no qualms in calling myself a Bulls fan today. None at all.
Hockey: Um, yeah. There's only ice in Tennessee about every 4 years, in the form of a massive ice storm...I went to a few hockey games while I lived in Nashville, and I found it very violent. My only earlier exposure to hockey was Mighty Ducks. Yep. A Disney movie. I can say firmly now that I am a Hawks fan (and a Wolves fan), and have been since I moved here. I wouldn't say I am a big fan, but I think it's awesome a Chicago team won a title.
In the last ten years, mostly thanks to my wonderful sports fan of a husband, I have been to professional baseball games (in multiple parks), a professional football game, professional hockey games (Wolves and Blackhawks), professional arena football games (Chicago Rush), a professional soccer game (Chicago Fire), and a professional basketball game (Bulls).
That's pretty good for someone who is a marginal sports fan at best.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Three Things
If you’ve known me even a little well over the last ten years since my move to Chicago, you probably know that I am a Kevin Smith fan. Kevin Smith is the writer, director, and actor of such great films as Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Dogma, Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back, Clerks II, etc. Mr. Smith plays Silent Bob – the character who speaks very seldom but always with profoundness.
A few years ago, I wrote a speech to deliver to my Toastmasters group about the three things I have learned from Kevin Smith movies. While I am at a point in my life in which “professional adult” outweighs “fan girl” a little too much for my liking, I still hold true to myself these lessons. Here’s a recap:
A few years ago, I wrote a speech to deliver to my Toastmasters group about the three things I have learned from Kevin Smith movies. While I am at a point in my life in which “professional adult” outweighs “fan girl” a little too much for my liking, I still hold true to myself these lessons. Here’s a recap:
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