Twenty-Five

A few (many) years ago....when I was twenty-five, I lived in an apartment in Seattle. It was a one bedroom, where, for the first time in my life, I lived by myself, with my cat, Eddie. At first that apartment felt strange and spacious and sort of decadent, since I had only lived with groups of others up until that point: a family of seven, a dorm, college and post college houses and apartments full of friends. I paid affordable rent for digs that had a view of Lake Union, the Space Needle and Queen Ann Hill. From my large window I watched morning light, sunsets, a famous lighting storm that I think the Seattle Times still sells photos from and lighted Christmas ships pass by throughout the holiday season. The building was in a neighborhood right in the city and had an actual asphalt parking lot where I could park my car. I started my job at the hospital at 7 and made it home by 4, which left plenty of time for an afternoon walk around Greenlake or to Pete's Market to see what sounded good for dinner.

At that point in my life, my sister and one or two other friends met up nearly every weekend for Breakfast at Julia's Fourteen Carrot Cafe which I could walk to. Their Tahitian Toast with a side of fresh fruit and yogurt was, and still is, one of my very favorite breakfast food memories of all times. For awhile, on Thursday evenings, my sister and one of these same friends took turns making dinner, after which we would tune in to the latest episodes of Family Ties, The Cosby Show and Cheers......one of the very best TV lineups of all times. 

At twenty-five I took the occasional weekend trip, understood I had never met someone like Marc before (we had been dating for about a year and a half at that point) and dreamt of going back to school. I enjoyed my friendships, loved to cook, walked for exercise, read and made things. I chopped enormous salads topped with cottage cheese, shredded cheddar, raisins and crushed saltines many nights for my dinner. I drove into downtown Seattle to shop and look and dream. I loved all kinds of music but had a special passion for classical. I knew I loved the out-of-doors, writing and taking pictures, and had a sense of adventure. I liked where my life was and where it was going. I didn't know exactly what the future held, but didn't really feel the need to either.

At twenty-five I didn't know that within the next five years I would be married, move all the way across the country and then back again, or have twin boys. I didn't know I'd have a husband who would give me flowers the day before our anniversary (which is, by the way today!) so that I could enjoy them the entire day of, or that another baby boy would come along. That I would explore my political views, quit a paying job to stay home and raise kids or exchange a vibrant city for the suburbs. 

About a week ago, my older boys turned twenty-five and I am (blank) years over twice their age. I think they live in a more complicated world than I did at that age.....but perhaps my parents felt the same way about me and their other children.  The one thing I do know is that certain themes have carried on throughout my life: my interests, what I value and the purposeful ways I spend my time. I can look back and see a similar pattern in my boys; activities each of them showed an interest in from an early age and the ways those have translated into how they currently choose to spend their time and energy. 

Have they noticed this pattern? I'm not sure and I don't really want to point it out....just to encourage them to pursue whatever it is that they're interested in. I want them to have the same sense of discovery about their own lives that I did and still do about mine.

Cool. - Empty Nest Repost #8

I have to admit I've wondered ever since I wrote a certain piece a few months ago, if I'd have occasion to refer to it again. The opportunity to say, "Yes......that happened. I hoped it would.....and it did." Well, tomorrow evening it will. Tomorrow evening Marc and I are heading into Seattle to hang out with a couple of our boys at a concert. They WANT to go with us. The only difference between tomorrow's concert and what I originally wrote about is that we'll be seeing someone current and not from our......you know......and oh, I-can-hardly-say-this-because-it-makes-me-feel-sort-of-oldish-and-uncool, but......our 'era'. 

I've had warnings that 'It will be loud, Mom........and long', but except for the fact I'll be missing the one of ours that now lives in New York......I don't care. It'll be cool.

Click here to read the original post:  Cool.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Warmly, 

Margaret

Empty Nest Revisited - 2

Good Morning from Florence, Oregon. I'm spending time here, as well as in a couple of other places on the Oregon Coast, attending a photography workshop. What a great week! I've learned a lot and the weather and sunrise/sunset light has cooperated nicely. Photos to follow.....

As I mentioned last week, for the next few Wednesdays I will be revisiting some posts that have to do with sending my youngest off to college. Posts that were written as I faced a recently emptied nest. My hope is that others entering into a new or different phase in their lives will be able to relate to at least some of what I've written. That knowing about another persons journey helps and supports their own....whether that be a last child leaving home, a move, a job or relationship change.......or a change in how you view yourself or life that goes on around you. The following was written nearly two years ago, after we returned him back to school following a five week winter break.


Mother Nature Gets it......Right???

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Warmly, 

Margaret

The Empty Nest - Revisited

Last evening I sat, along with a group of women....all of us mothers......in a friends living room for a chat. The main topic was the 'empty nest', and so, wine glasses in hand we talked about surviving it. Thriving in it. Looking beyond the enormous gaping hole left in our kids wake.  Those of us who've been there for awhile had a few suggestions and stories to share with the others. For a few the transition was fresh; for others it is impending within the next year or two.

When our youngest was getting ready to head off to college (or should I say I was attempting to get ready for him to head off to college.....mentally he had been out the door for months), I said to Marc, "This isn't fair. No one tells you about this part when you're excitedly planning for a baby." 

Until just before each of them left......I hadn't given much thought to them actually...... (gulp) leaving. As it should be, I think, but as with an earthquake......some level of preparedness might have been nice. To paraphrase a cliche, 'When one door closes, another swings wide open whether you like it or not'.......and I know that personally I had a choice: To either be overwhelmed by that gaping hole, or to take full advantage of its enormous opportunities.

A freshly emptied nest is what prompted me to begin this blog in the first place. It gave me an organized way to process and deal with my thoughts, feelings and experiences. A healthy way to miss my boys. It was a chance to express myself and explore my interests. Posting became something I looked forward to, the very best part of which was the thought of sharing parts of this transition with others. 

Fall is here. Many 'nests' have recently emptied. Many know it will be happening within the next couple of years. So with the conversations of last evening in mind,  for the next few Wednesdays I'll be re-sharing some of my posts about the empty nest, beginning with the first one and taking it forward from there. I hope that they somehow make a difference, no matter what transitions are taking place in your life. Click below for a link to the first:

Time

I will have separate posts about other topics as well.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Warmly, Margaret

Parenting

When stepping back for a moment to review the past many years of parenting (25), certain themes emerge. If I was forced at this moment, to come up with a short list of what I hope to have taught our boys, this is what immediately comes to mind: 

Be brave. Look forward. Attempt to see the 'big picture'. Value education and life long learning. Know that it's better to have zero good friends for a couple of months than to have ones that aren't right for you right now. It's your life, there are twenty-four hours in a day and you get to choose how to spend them. Have compassion....always. Trust your own ability to make a decision.

I realize this list could and should be (and really is) much longer..........but I said a 'short' one and the above is what surfaced during the few minutes I sat with my morning cup of coffee. I know that I'm speaking as just one member of a parenting partnership here......no doubt that if Marc were writing this he would have his own thoughts and additions.  I also know that each item could be the topic of an entire set of essays, but I'll save that for possible future posts.

I didn't step through the door of parenthood knowing how to be one, let alone a 'good' one. I'm pretty sure no parent ever has. Relying on well written books, friends and a spouse who share similar values, and an amazing set of parents of my own has helped immensely, but it's largely a 'learn as you go' venture, don't you think? Or maybe I should say adventure, which the dictionary defines as excitement, thrill, risk, uncertainty and precariousness......an apt description of many parts of the parenting journey. 

I will say that I have learned as much or more about how to be a parent from each of my boys as I did from any of the above resources. They taught me how to parent them; showed me that they are unique individuals and needed me to raise them as such. If somehow I didn't get it right the first time, they would be certain to circle back around to help me understand again......and again and again just to be sure I did. So as they leave this house, and then come back and leave again, most times for parts and experiences unknown, I can only hope that we've all taught each other what we need to know. That we keep sturdy, cohesive, respectful, strong and loving ties wherever any of us ends up.

This week one of our boys began a new job and showed us the view of downtown Seattle he can see from his desk. One bought a one-way ticket to New York and trusts he will have found a place to live by the time his plane lands. (I believe he will.) The third left to go camping and hiking in a national park (where I happen to know there are bears) without telling us just which part of this enormous park he planned to be in. He saw wildlife and waterfalls and rocky cliffs. He visited a glacier. He and his friends stuck their heads into an aqua lake floating enormous chunks of ice. They all gave us a call or sent us texts or showed us pictures. They each continue to sculpt their futures by recognizing desires and passions, and then using those to formulate words that turn into actions. They trust themselves and their decision making. I am so proud of them for this.

There have been moments in the past couple of years when I prematurely thought the parenting part was just about finished; that since the five of us are now all adults, much of the job is done. But now, especially now, I know that it's not. Even at my age......even at the stage of life that I'm at...... I continue to look toward my own parents: For sage advice. For the value of their lives experiences. For sturdy and strong ties.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Warmly, Margaret

The Sweet Spot

Was it this (blasted) office project that has got me to thinking more about what my future plans will or should entail? I've been avoiding cleaning out and organizing it for a few years now, and then all of a sudden it was THE day to begin. I knew the task would be long and challenging. I knew that in facing all of that 'stuff' I would be called upon to make decisions. What stays? What goes? What holds value? What is no longer useful?

I've gotten rid of old files and created new ones. I have shredded reams of bank statements, insurance forms, receipts and records. Tossed out user manuals, out dated Christmas card lists and blurred photos. The recycling bin (which is the size of an enormous garbage can) is mostly full this week because of my efforts.

And I have finally dug into The Sweet Spot: That tender place I had been unwilling to touch for years that held homework projects, awards, schedules, team rosters, cards and small bits of paper written or drawn upon by three pair of young hands. Now that I've spent time with it, I know with crystal clarity why I rushed by so quickly, eyes averted, each day. It was something I didn't want to deal with and so pretended it wasn't even there. In the meantime it had grown like a mis-managed rhododendron; thick leaves and sturdy branches strewn about on top of one another representing years that have passed and boys that have grown.  A marriage matured, family threads interwoven and unique memories. Roots that run healthy and deep.

I didn't want to revisit that pile for what I did not want to see: Time.

In turning over what had settled comfortably into that spot, I've come across grade school collages, college essays, poems, drawings, sports programs, acknowledgments, certificates, newspaper articles and notes. One of my favorites was a piece of paper with tape stuck to it shouting "MOM CAN WE GO TO THE LIBRARY TODAY?" scrawled in a nine-year-old hand. There were comments on a first grade report card (one of which was 'quite a talker') that accurately describe a certain son as the adult he is today. A collection of photos show another, book in hand, in a rocking chair, in a beach chair, by the fire, by a pool, at home, on vacation......you name it. Photos of him, of course, are still likely to be snapped with the book he is currently reading found somewhere within the frame. There is a photo of an exhausted three year old, sitting up to the dinner table, head fallen back, mouth open, eyes closed......asleep in front of a plate of lasagna and garlic bread. The same kid who, this many years later, would still never desert a good plate of food.

And so it goes. The Sweet Spot has not disappeared but has been sifted through, divided up and saved. Its unruliness neatly portioned off for each son, waiting for the right occasion to be passed on.

It's time for a change. Time to take stock. Time to wrap up a couple of projects and stamp them FINISHED. Time to ramp up and plan to put a couple of new ideas in motion. In other words, in my world, its time to shake things up a bit. Cleaning out the office.....revisiting those years that hung out in the pile in the corner reminded me of this......and I think that's a good thing every so often. 

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead!

Margaret 

Dedicated Space

Natural light. Uncluttered surfaces. Clean lines. Neutral gray. Blank walls. A dedicated space. Minimal distractions. This is the workspace I dream about.

I'm in need of a place to work and create that doesn't affect other people. Where their needs don't affect what I'm attempting to distill onto the computer screen or on paper. There are times when Marc hesitates to come downstairs if he thinks I'm in the middle of something at my spot at the kitchen table. He doesn't want to interrupt. I've asked people to turn down the TV or watch it in their room. They trip over my computer cord. I move my 'stuff' from the kitchen table then back again depending on mealtime. I've been known to write in the downstairs bathroom in order to have a little quiet, think clearly and complete a thought. 

Not fair to them. Not fair to me.

So I'm setting out to transform the tiny office upstairs. When the room was built for the former owners of this house, it apparently worked well for them and their home business, but it doesn't work at all well for me.

For one thing it's PINK. I've occasionally been described as a 'girly' girl and for a very long time my favorite color was pink. The other day, in fact, I returned home with a bright pink rain jacket to wear when I walk and was so very OK about that. Wearing it makes me feel happy and energetic......so I have nothing at all against PINK. But surround me with muted PINK cabinets and walls, PINK wall to wall counter top and a PINK toned vinyl floor and I become nothing but sleepy and distracted. Colors on my computer screen are skewed by light bouncing off the surfaces. Writing seems nearly impossible because......well......I'm surrounded by this set up. Ever since I discovered how well the natural light and backyard view from the kitchen table work for me, I've been planted there in the main center of our home, thinking that was just fine....until I realized it wasn't. 

First I've got to sift through what has found it's way into this office space. Placing things in there began with all good intentions. Important papers were kept in labeled file folders. Photo albums, baby books, journals, computer discs, owners manuals and supplies lived neatly inside cupboards. And then slowly I guess, because I don't remember ever consciously DECIDING to use the room for this....it became a place to put things that I either didn't want to deal with at the moment, or didn't have time to deal with at the moment. At some point I began to avoid opening the door......unless of course I needed to stash something I planned to get to later. Once I found my perch with the nature-view-downstairs-in-the-light, the little upstairs office became stuck in kind of a time warp. And there is the slightest chance that in the last few months, so have I. Until I saw possibility. Then I began to dig in.  

At this point there are piles in the upstairs hallway on either side of the office door. Meaningful piles. Small manageable piles that make this clean out easier to deal with. Whatever happens to be saved from the shredder, the recycling bin or the donation truck is put away for real someplace else in the house. And rather than allowing myself to become overwhelmed by this (very large and involved) task,  I can see how each pile represents an opportunity I've taken during the past few years to hang out with one of my kids, invest in some fun or to take time for some other important responsibility.

Just a few minutes of sifting through paper, photographs and books each day, that's all I'm asking of myself. It should take another week or two, and after that I'm going to give someone a call to find out what it would take to remove the cabinets, counter top and floor. If I can afford it I'll make the window larger in order to have the backyard view I love so much. I'm planning to replace the lighting, find a neutral shade of paint and put a functional desk in there. One of my sons showed me how I could add a few extra feet of workspace by eliminating the linen closet on the other side of the wall. He also helped me visualize a whole new work flow.

Really......this isn't going to be as difficult as I thought.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly, Margaret

This Week

This is the email I sent to my mom at 10:09 PM last night:

Hello,

Oh my goodness I have just realized what time it is....and I have missed posting
on my blog for only the second time in 15 months. I guess having the boys home
and helping them out has caught up with me. I will do it tomorrow.

On a funny note: yesterday I went on a long walk with my walking group. 5.6
miles, up and down so many hills. I was very tired when we stopped at Starbucks
for coffee.....so much so that I didn't even realize I had gone into the men's
bathroom until I was quite a few steps back out. I even wondered why the seat was up, which should have
been a good solid clue.  In fact, as I was exiting I saw a woman coming out of the other bathroom
.......(which at the time I could only assume was the men's, of course, not knowing that I
had just come out of it) and I kind of judged her for not being able to wait. At
some point I put two and two together.

Goodnight,

Love, Marg

~~~~~

I fill my mom in on certain incidents like this partly because she raised five children and I know she can relate, and partly because I know she will laugh with me. Thank goodness.

Now that the boys are gone, I keep myself busy. I've paid attention to prioritizing the ways I want to spend my time and taken advantage of the amount of time that I now have. The past couple of weeks have served as a reminder of just how busy being a mom can be. And just how different the 'busy' is depending whether the boys are home or not.

At this point in my empty nest I've developed a regular routine. Certain days mean certain things. College breaks and vacations are on the calendar and mentally and otherwise prepared for well in advance. For some reason (even though I knew about them somewhat in advance) the hospital visits, doctors appointments and meal prep of the last couple of weeks threw me.

And there you have it: This is the only explanation I can come up with about why I inadvertently missed my Wednesday post or why I would have unknowingly chosen the men's room.

Wishing you a wonderful week and weekend ahead!

Warmly, Margaret

In Training

This past week I made an incredibly spicy gumbo with chicken thighs and okra, which was followed by a visit to an Italian restaurant the following night. I chopped, simmered and pureed my way into pots of Potato, Carrot and Cheddar, and then Split Pea Minus-The-Ham soups. I discovered that dinner with three smooth side dishes (Pureed Roasted Cauliflower,  Sweet Potatoes Whipped with Butter and Maple Syrup, and Russet Potatoes Mashed with Sour cream) is actually kind of fun for the palate.

I baked loaves of Banana Bread with no nuts and a 9x13 dish of Pumpkin Custard. Stocked the refrigerator with tubs of store bought pudding and the freezer with boxes of popsicles. At some point I became concerned about the sugar intake of our household but attempted to make myself feel better by taking into account the amount of fiber served. (I so want to believe this makes a difference.....)

A few intentionally spicy meals with lots of texture and then a weeks worth of ones that slid down easily. Cooking this week has been a fun and interesting challenge.

~~~~~

I sat in the waiting room of the hospital and the waiting room of the doctors office. In the curtained off pre-op and the post-op rooms. I tried to ask helpful questions, but not too many. I made conscious choices about where to physically place myself in the above spaces and thought a lot about what it means to be the parent of a child in their mid-twenties versus one in their teens or younger. I played Words With Friends, watched a few movies and sat in on occasional episodes of Mad Men during the apparent viewing marathon that played around here.

I tried hard to find the line between helping out too much and too little. Between giving unnecessary advice and not enough. Between stepping in and stepping back. There was a lot of ruminating on my part regarding what used to be, what is now and what will be. I continued to return to my current theme of  "Have I (We) Taught Them Everything They Need To Know In Order To Get Along In This Great Big World?" I still evaluate, re-evaluate and try to make sure.

One of the boys had his tonsils out last week. Believe it or not, I may be repeating and adjusting to certain elements of the above scenario in just a few days with a different son.

During the waiting, the chopping, cooking, stirring and pureeing, I've had some time and inclination to think. There is nothing quite like squarely facing the adulthood of your offspring that nudges you to consider your own.

I am......as they are......still in training.

Wishing you a warm and wonderful weekend, where ever you may be!

Margaret

Making Sure

It's funny how parenting goes. The more years that pass, the more often I realize that I am digging deeper into it, instead of nearing its end point.  Its not something I will 'finsh' just because my boys are no longer at home.  And thank goodness.....
 
I still have meaningful, helpful and instructive conversations with both of my parents. Sometimes it is an incident that they recall and recount. Sometimes its when I tell them some small thing and one or both of them relates something similar that happened during their marriage or in my family growing up. Welcome advice often comes my way beginning with, 'Did you know that" or "I remember when......"

My boys are 24 and 19 and I still wonder if I've taught them enough.......if they know all they need to know. Have I sent them away with all the necessary information?

Yesterday I watched the day drift from morning sun into grey and windy sheets of rain. At one point I turned on my computer, barely paying attention to the red banner that blared across the top of the page declaring "Breaking News". I thought I would catch up with it later until I realized the alert was about severe weather......including deadly tornadoes passing through Indiana. I've made sure that my boys were instructed about a lot of things, but there was never any need here in the Pacific Northwest, to be sure that they knew what to do in the event of a tornado. So I made the phone call to the one who has lived for less than a half a year in Indiana. Just to be sure.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend.

Warmly, Margaret

Cool.

So, a couple of days ago I was sitting around with my nineteen year old and two of his friends. We're in Montana for the week, and since where we stay is within sight of Big Mountain, the three of them made the drive north for the weekend to get some time in on their boards. After sharing cool stories about a great day spent taking advantage of fresh, deep powder, and right in front of his friends, he very coolly said, "Hey Mom...if an old band comes to Seattle, you and dad should let me know and I can come home so we can all go together."

I  looked up from my knitting......which may or may not be interpreted as a cool activity by this crowd......and said, "Like how old?"

He answered without hesitation. "Bruce Springsteen or James Taylor. You know....someone that you and dad would want to go see."

Did you catch that, too?? My son just offered to go see The Boss with me?! And later on that day, I overheard him mention the same thing to his dad.  And all with a smile on his face. Not an ounce of holding back for the benefit of his friends.

This empty nest thing....this having kids leave home thing: I sure hope I haven't made it seem any easier than it really is. I sure hope that because I've enjoyed sharing the good parts....the parts that make my eyes tear up with pride and my heart nearly burst with love, that I have in any way sugar-coated the experiences involved. Because it IS difficult.  Even when I know without a doubt that each of my boys are doing exactly what it is that they should be doing......whatever it is that they NEED to do be doing......to become the autonomous, self reliant, independently functioning adults that they are supposed to become, it is still sometimes difficult.

Put simply: No matter how logically I understand that life is moving forward as it should......and that this moving forward is all normal, right and good......it still kind of sucks (I actually don't LIKE that word, but sometimes it just fits) when your kids grow up and leave home. When they now live far away and you pretty much know they aren't thinking about you even one one-millionth of the number of times you are thinking about them. And worrying about them. And of course, they shouldn't be.

And it makes you wonder: Will we stay close? Become close again? Even closer? What will our relationship be like now? What will it evolve into in the future? To what extent will I, his dad, his family, remain a part of his life? Will any of them ever think I know what I'm talking about? That some of my advice is actually pretty good?

At my most patient, I quietly stand back, observe and feel proud. I allow and encourage the process to unfold as the universe intends. At my most anxious, I want to call or text or give helpful suggestions or ask helpful questions in order to grasp hold of just how this 'growing up-and-becoming-an-adult-thing' is progressing so far.  Sometimes I want up to the minutes details. Personally, I think I'm doing great at remaining on the 'patient observer' side of the line. I'm pretty sure, however, that each of my boys thinks I ask far too many questions.

So back to Bruce.......

"Hmmmm, " I nodded.

"Sounds great.........." I said, while attempting to still remain somewhere within the boundaries of cool. While forcing a too-big smile from escaping and ruining the moment. While holding myself back from running up the stairs and spilling to Marc that 'if an acceptably good concert comes to Seattle, our kid just offered in front of his friends to come all the way home and go rock out with his parents!! And if an acceptably good concert DOES come to Seattle, should we have him drive home or fly? Oh and by the way...... he's been wearing the hat I knit for him for Christmas and even told his friends that I made
it!!........."

But I managed to stay there.....within those boundaries.....

Sometimes this empty nest thing......it's not so bad. As it turns out, they still want to be  a part of the nest, they just need some time and space in order to figure that out.
  
Wishing you a wonderful week in your own nest....wherever that may be.

Warmly,

Margaret

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls

As a youngster coming home from school, I was occasionally greeted by the scent of  banana bread before I even hit the steps leading up to the back door. Once inside I knew I'd find a couple loaves resting on the counter......because "there were some bananas turning black and I didn't want to waste them."  On another day I might see a pie cooling on a rack and be informed, "I had a little sour cream so I made a raisin pie." Short sentences or comments casually uttered years ago by one or the other of my parents surface every once in awhile, which I realize, still make a difference in my days. Remembering this makes me hope that I've provided my boys with useful snippets of conversation to take away for their futures, especially knowing how they squirm at the mention of a 'few suggestions', a 'talk' or worse yet a lecture. (I try hard not to............)

Remember last week when I made Pumpkin Gingersnap Ice Cream? Since the recipe only called for one cup of pumpkin puree, and since I only had a large can of it in the pantry, I ended up with a leftover bowl in the fridge. Not wanting to waste, I planned at some point to make muffins with the remainder. As I set out to do so yesterday morning....thinking that the scent would be kind of a nice thing for the two boys I still have at home to wake up to (not to mention the finished product.....the ones I make have chocolate chips in them....) I became side tracked by a memory of a recipe for Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls rattling around in my brain. Once it popped in there, I couldn't seem to let it and the fact that I want to become more successful with my yeast dough baking go, so I searched my cookbooks to find one. I finally chose one from AllRecipes.com.

Although it took a bit longer than muffins would have, I was more than happy with the finished product. The extra time I hadn't planned to spend baking was worth it. I didn't waste leftover ingredients. The scent of cinnamon, ginger and cloves that wafted up the stairs, may have been even more delicious and tempting than the pumpkin chocolate chip muffins I intended to make. I happened to have all of the ingredients on hand (including a can of evaporated milk....which I normally wouldn't have around except for the recent holidays). Working with yeast dough, which has always been a little awkward for me, most likely due to my lack of practice, seemed a bit easier.......less awkward this time.

I remembered some things. I learned some things.

Here is a link to the recipe I used: Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls. My computer is in the shop (again), but I'll come back and post a couple of photos here on Monday. 

Some notes:
 - I made 'pumpkin pie spice' by mixing together the spices I would normally use when making two pies into a small bowl. Two tsp went into the dough, then enough cinnamon was added to what was left over to make two tbsp for the filling.
 - I baked the rolls for 30 minutes, but they could have used another five or maybe ten.
 - I didn't have cream cheese in the house, so made a buttercream frosting and added a bit of almond extract to it as well as the vanilla called for.

Wishing you a Wonderful Weekend!

Warmly, Margaret

PS. Have you noticed I've made a shift from Tues/Fri posts to Wed/Sat posts? I'm not even sure how or why that happened! Probably due to one extra-busy day during the holiday season......and then it seemed to stick. I'll still be posting twice a week on what ever combination of days that seem to work best this year. Thank you so much for reading and for checking in! XO

Their Turf

We've spent some pretty special weekends during the past six years with each of our boys on their college campuses. They've taken a bit of planning on our parts, what with arranging time off work and travel plans. The older boys started college when Joey was a high school freshman, so during those years we needed to line up places for him to stay, and rides to and from football practices and games before he could drive. There were hotel  and dinner reservations to make, football or concert tickets to secure, activities to think about and weather to plan for.  I often cooked or baked something to bring along so they each could enjoy a taste of home. We otherwise loaded the car with seasonal items such as coats, hats, gloves and boots; things they may have overlooked as they packed up during a warm week in August.

These weekends took some planning on the boys parts as well. For as excited as we were to go see them, they seemed appreciative and genuinely happy when we showed up. It was obvious that they put some thought into what we would do. They showed us around campus and around town. We were introduced to their friends, their friends parents and their professors. To good music and cool cafes. They showed us the best places to get hot dogs, sub sandwiches, burritos, steaks, burgers, pancakes, pizza, cups of coffee or great beer. We saw where they lived, studied, hiked and played. We were able to experience snapshots of their college town and campus life.

Looking back, it's been fun to see that traditions have formed surrounding these weekends. We have almost always done certain things or eaten at certain places from year to year. There are requisite parental runs to Costco, Walmart and Target. Trips to the mall or REI. Marc and I have both found things around their towns or on their campuses that we enjoy doing while the boys are in class, taking a nap or otherwise engaged.

I had kind of a lump in my throat during the last weekend I spent with Patrick before he graduated. At his school they have separate Mom and Dad Weekend's, so Marc and I were each able to have a couple days of good one-on-one time with him each year. At the University of Montana, where both Peter and Joey attend(ed), it's a Family Weekend. Last weekend was Joey's second. Just a couple more to go and I will have a lump in my throat about that campus, too. Peter was such a great sport. Although he still lives in Missoula, he kept reminding us that it was Joey's turn, allowing and encouraging his brother to make the plans and call the shots.

What a great opportunity for parents to see the adults that their children are becoming. We've returned home each time feeling so proud. I'm hoping they want to continue with some kind of similar weekend tradition, even after graduation.

On the website Make It Missoula I wrote about......you guessed it.....Family Weekend this week. To look at some photos and take a quick read, click here: GRIZ Family Weekend


Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly,

Margaret

October

This afternoon Marc, Patrick and I will head downtown, grab a bite to eat and then take in a professional soccer game. This is something that those two, Marc and Patrick, usually do together along with a couple of their friends, but this time I'm coming along. The two of them (and Peter) grew up playing soccer, have an understanding of the game and all of its nuances that I do not, and share a tight bond regarding it.  Marc coached our older boys team for seven years, all the way through high school.  Although I can't participate in many (most) of their conversations about this sport, I enjoy them. I am happy that this is one of the ways they know each other well; something that they've been able to do together over the course of the years.

As soon as the game is over the three of us will head to the airport where Pat will catch a red-eye flight to a new city, a new job and a new chapter in his life. He is taking a chance, planting himself somewhere unexpected and staying open to see where it leads.  When we come home Marc and I will begin a new chapter in our lives as well. Another one. Looking back, that is what our relationship, marriaige and family have been all about. Beginnings and transitions. Endings that are melded into different beginnings. There is always something new, something that is over and a whole bunch of real life in between.

As I think about his send off, I know that my hopes are the same as those of most parents: that we have done an 'OK' job. That we have taught him what he needs to know. Prepared him for most situations. Helped him out enough, but not too much. That he leaves loaded with love and confidence and the knowledge that he has people he can call on whenever he needs to, for whatever reason he needs to. That he understands the power and strength of love and family.

Wishng you and yours a wonderful week!

Warmly, Margaret

A New Place To Visit

I started this blog for a number of reasons, an important one being that I planned to use it as a way to explore my recently emptied nest. To figure out how, after years of very purposefully raising three children, I would reposition myself. To find what life had waiting and where it would lead. To invite anyone who was interested to come along, because traveling with good company is always better.

When my youngest left for college a year ago, I faced into a new era that seemed to have many more hours in a day.  Although I wasn't exactly sure what to do with them, I had some ideas, got brave, took some chances. 

Still......as it happened, as each boy took the next step toward becoming an independent and self-sufficient adult, it came as somewhat of a surprise. A little bit of a shock because the years did seem to fly by so fast. Each time I watch them leave it is with a combination of love, pride and hope for their future. There is also tinge of loss on my part. I know I'm not unique. I will miss them. Every parent must feel this way.

This week one of our sons accepted his first post-college job. Next Tuesday he will move to a city in the Midwest and then live, at least for awhile, far away from where he grew up. So different from the past few years of college, when he lived four and a half hours away and in the same university town that I did for a few years. When I could count on him coming home for long weekends or summer and holiday breaks.

After so many years, it is simply habit to imagine the daily lives and routines of all of my boys; what they might be doing, thinking, feeling. What they pass in the daily to and fro. The view outside their window. It's a bit disorienting, then, to enter this phase that I'm not so familiar with. It is exciting......normal......the natural next step......necessary......OK......but for me, disorienting.

Although I will miss having him close and having our visits predictable, this is and should be, only about him. He is looking forward and that alone makes me feel very happy. And I am looking forward, too.

And...... we will have a new place to visit.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly,
Margaret

A Couple Favorites

A few things have gone on this past month and I wrote about a couple of them for the website Make It Missoula.

First, we moved Joey back to Missoula for his second year at the University of Montana. I love that place. The school is such a good fit for him and he's happy there. As a parent, I couldn't ask for more and am so thankful. Hard not to think about This Time Last Year when we moved him in for the first time. Always a little hard to let go.....

I also wrote about a favorite place we've been visiting for years, Big Dipper Ice Cream. Super tasty scoops, homemade in small batches......and the flavors range from the traditional to the very nontraditional. Always fun to check in with them when we're in town and see what they've come up with! A couple of my favorites: Tangerine Sorbet and Chocolate Espresso Chip. Thank goodness we walk a lot while we're there!

Hope you'll take a quick read! I've provided the links.

Cheers!
Margaret

Nineteen

I had a few things going on last week, not the least of which was packing up the Suburban to help my youngest settle into his sophomore year of college in Missoula. He moved in to a rental house this year and unlike the small rectangle of a dorm room he inhabited last year, there is quite a bit more space. Quite a bit more space meant traveling with quite a few more things in order to help furnish a kitchen, a living room, a back yard and a bedroom. We got out of town at the time we planned (somewhat unusual for us...) and moved across the state carrying clothes in a suitcase, in bags and on hangars. We carried sheets, towels, mixing bowls, kitchen utensils, plates, cups, bowls, chairs and his bike. There were important items from Costco and Target runs we had made before the trip, as well as a few things from home we managed to fit in for his brother who lives there full time.

What we couldn't find room for greeted me in the entry way as soon as I returned home and will have to be carted over next time. They are items that aren't necessary at this point in the year anyway...like his snowboard gear and a couple more chairs. We did forget and leave the cardboard tube of posters behind, however. He thinks it's pretty urgent that they are sent over ASAP.

You know how you can learn a lot about a person when you're in a bit of a crisis? Like how they handle their emotions under pressure. How they think on the fly. Whether they fall apart or keep it together with a cool head. If they tend to think of themselves first or whether it is just natural for them to reach out and take care of some one else.

My youngest is just an easy going and pretty helpful kid by nature, so when the fuel pump gave out as I hurtled across the state at 70 mph....I was fortunate he was in the seat next to me. Although I had to wake him from a road trip induced slumber, he quickly snapped to and figured out what was going on much faster than I might have with a sleepy-foggy brain. As my car lost speed he reminded me to turn on the emergency flashers and motioned to those passing on our right that we needed to make it over to the wider right hand shoulder of the road. Once safely parked (if it is ever safe to be parked on the side of an interstate!), he used his smart phone to look up hotels and repair shops in the nearest town while I was on mine with AAA. He helped me talk through the decision to be towed all the way to Spokane, which although it would be more expensive, would work out best in the long run since we could stay with my parents for free.

What really did this mom's heart good however was when after digging around in the back seat for a minute, he pulled out a small towel to keep the 90+ degree heat off my head. And that he shared ice cubes with me from the one fountain drink we traveled with. And when he unzipped his guitar from it's case, sat on the edge of the back seat and started playing one of the few tunes he knows so far. Those things.....they make a difference.

We arrived in Missoula the following day and met up with Marc and Peter a few hours later than originally planned. It all ended well. Our car is driving great. He's moved in and settled, and we had a lot of fun during our stay.

Something else that does this mom's heart good: I'm pretty sure he's OK without us. He hugged and kissed us as we left and reminded us not to be strangers....as if he needed to. Last I heard he was spending a lot of time with his friends floating the river and barbequeing in the back yard during this week before school starts. Ahhhhh......19.

Have a wonderful weekend,

Margaret

Priorities

Peter rolled in the other night around midnight. I knew he'd pull into our driveway about that time and so went to bed figuring I'd wake up when he got home, just as I have since he was in his teens. A few random noises nudged me and then I became fully awake when his dog, Lewis, sprinted into my room to say hi. He jumped on the bed and looked me square in eye with an invitation to go downstairs and hang out that I found irresistible......so at 12:15 AM, in jammies and my robe, I gave myself permission to sleep late the next morning and then settled in to my awakeness at the kitchen table to listen and watch for awhile. To point out the left overs in the fridge and the raspberry pie on the counter.

Pat was still up, Joey not home yet and Marc asleep upstairs, so it was just the three of us in the kitchen. I'm not sure I'll ever get enough of watching those two boys interact, just as I have since the minute they came into this world one right after the other. They're mesmerizing, the two of them together, and although they would roll their eyes at this, still look at each other, still laugh at each other, the same way they have since they were toddlers. Predictable, guttural, twinkling belly-laughs that have changed only in pitch, not timing.

When I got up the next morning, this is what I found strewn about: A Glacier Park ball cap, a pair of sandals, a guitar...... and every door and a few of the drawers in the kitchen left open. Random silverware, six plates, two bowls, three glasses, pie crumbs and raspberry stains on the counter, along with an empty bottle of wine. They were in the middle of figuring out how Pat could end up in Montana for a few days next week when I decided to go back to bed and must have stayed up for quite awhile after that. Soon after I crawled into the sheets, Joey came home, so I'm sure these and other future plans then included the three of them.

Will I ever tire of this? No. Will I mention my interrupted sleep or the mess I cleaned up the next morning? Never. Someday they'll figure it out. I had 'one of those days' all week this week. You know the ones. One step forward, two back. Days where the best laid plans didn't come together. Ones where I questioned some things that only a short time ago I felt very sure of. This late night noise, this messy mess that occurred was oddly comforting. It stopped the clock for awhile. It was balm for my soul.

Ahhhh....priorities. Have a great weekend!

Warmly,

Margaret

PS. I would love it if you took a look at my new post on Make It Missoula.  It's about how two of my boys ended up choosing to go school at The University of Montana. If you or someone you know would like to learn more about the city of Missoula or are considering attending the University of Montana, you might want to take a read. Here is the link:

http://www.makeitmissoula.com/2011/08/so-why-missoula/

R and R

We  recently took a week off for some much needed R and R. Good to clear the brain every once in awhile in order to be effective for what lies ahead. When I find myself a bit sluggish, taking too long to complete simple tasks or uninspired...I know that it's time.

One of the things I love to do is immerse myself in a good book; live in the world of  its author for awhile and let my imagination take off. I enjoy time on vacation where I can manage a few good hours with book in hand and no distractions. My choices may or may not be a little lighter and often are affected by what's on display at the local bookstore where ever we decide to visit.  When possible...and it usually is....we're able to find small independently owned bookshops where the owners or employees are available to chat and give a couple of recommendations. Whitefish has one such store and we make it a point to stop in each time we pass through.

This time I picked up a copy of The Reading Promise, by Alice Ozma when I noticed two or three stacked on a table near the front of the store. I scanned the cover and leafed through the pages, then asked the woman behind the counter what she thought. She confirmed what the book jacket said, that it is about a father who made a pact with his young daughter to read to her each and every night without fail for as long as they could both keep it up. Loving books, this piqued my interest. The fact that the sweet lady who works in the shop teared up when she spoke piqued it even more.

At this point, I won't tell you much more about it except to say that it was written in the honest voice of  a very bright 22 year old girl. It is her true story and about so much more than the fact that her father read to her every night without fail until the day she left for college.  A great pick for anyone who loved to be read to as a child or anyone who has the opportunity to read to a child. It is for those who look forward to curling up with a good book and who nurture their love of reading.

I loved this book and am happy I walked through the door of that shop and picked it up. I'll be passing it on to others, and yes...it brought tears to my eyes as well....in a really good way. 

XO Happy Reading!

PS. One of the best parts is that Alice Ozma shared the list of books and their authors that her father read to her from the time she was in third grade throughout high school. As many as they could remember anyway. What a gift!!

Fishing

This weekend we went fishing on a small lake outside of Kalispell, Montana, just Peter, Marc and I. The other two boys had to work. Typically we choose a driftboat on a river to cast our fly rods from, but they are running high and muddy this year in western Montana, so we found a nearby lake instead. The mosquitoes were thick, hungry and ready to bite outside of our car, but as soon as we hit the water they stopped and the fish started and kept us busy for quite a few hours. Always a friendly competition in our family in which we are required to practice skill and patience. It follows this general pattern: Cast, wait, wait, cast again and again, wait some more, set the hook if you're lucky, eyeball length and weight, release and keep track. Do I have to say who won? (Not me....)

What a peaceful, billowy cloud and blue sky day. A bit breezy and the perfect temperature. So much quiet broken only by the cast of a rod, the creak of an oar, water lapping against the boat, the occasional  fish surfacing and the haunting calls of the loon on the lake.

I appreciate and know the value of this time. We've fished together since the boys were pretty young. Soaking in the simplicity of our surroundings. Focusing on the spot where the line meets the water. Enjoying each others presence. Talking or not.