The Virtual Socialite

The End of an Era (I'm Movin' On).

2012-01-24T22:10:00.000-06:00

As I sit here contemplating all that's left to do in the 36 hours between now and moving day, it occurs to me that a house is so very much more than brick and mortar. Or wood and nails, as the case may be. I feel compelled to ruminate on that just a bit, if you're up for a little emotional rambling. :)

I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on this house. March 1, 2007. I was married nearly a year, pregnant, and super excited to find the place that my family could grow in - and call home. We had looked at dozens of houses online and in person, but none of them spoke to me the way this one did. I saw it as we drove down the street (in a blizzard, mind you), and it took my breath away. I knew - I KNEW - that this was where we would land. This was home. I had to have it. And six weeks later we moved in.

I had big plans for this house. As far as I was concerned, we were going to stay here a long time. Maybe not forever, but long enough to raise our family. We started down that path. Our son was born, and then our daughter. Our neighbors were our friends. We were well on our way to being the quintessential happy suburban family I'd always wanted.

But - it turns out that not everything happens as planned. Sometimes not even close. I aimed for Pleasantville and got the Bates Motel, or something. Instead of the Cleavers, this house saw the end of a marriage, the destruction of a family, and probably more pain and tears than joy and laughter.

You'd think I'd be glad to leave this house behind, and in most ways I am. I recognize that finally leaving this house means a well-deserved fresh start for me. But I'm a sentimental person, and I often think about the optimism and bright eyes I had when I moved into this house. Remembering that makes me sad for all the dreams I had that didn't really come to be.

The good news is, this move is the final chapter in a long, tawdry tale. I really do get to start fresh, on my own again, and rebuild a life that is all mine. And that, my friends, has been a long time coming. So I guess I shouldn't spend too much time feeling sorry for myself. This is my opportunity to move on - me and my kids. It will be good. :)

And on Thursday, I will bid adieu to Elk River, and to this house. I can't believe that day is already here.

Who Am I To Mess With Mother Nature?

2011-06-08T21:19:00.000-05:00

You probably saw my recent Facebook posts about my Baby Sparrow Saga. I'll tell you what; I never knew I could get so emotional over a bunch of birds. Here's how it went down:

Early in the spring a couple of sparrows built a nest on a vent above my basement patio door, inside the screened-in area underneath my deck. There had been an identical nest in the identical spot last year, so I wasn't surprised to see them return, and I didn't think anything of it. Aside from sending the birds flying every time I stepped out of my office for a smoke, my relationship with the birds was pretty typical and uneventful.

Until Monday.

On Monday morning I gradually realized that something outside the patio door (which is in my office) was making a heck of a racket. I looked outside and saw the mama and daddy birds hopping and darting around, cheeping like mad, obviously in distress. I got up and took a closer look - only to find their nest lying on the concrete patio. It had fallen off the vent above the door. After grabbing some gloves and a stool, I went out and took a closer look. The nest had at least one living baby in it, and two others had fallen out either on the way down or upon impact, and were lying on the concrete. These baby birds can't have been more than a couple days old. Completely devastated, I gently picked the babies up, placed them back in the nest, and hurriedly put the nest up on the header board of the deck. Not where the nest was before, as there was no way it could go there again, but I hoped it would be good enough. I quickly grabbed my stool and went back inside. And then I watched. And hoped the mama and daddy birds would come back.

And they did. Pretty much as soon as I went inside, they did come back, and I caught a glimpse of mama in the nest, inspecting her babies. Whew - disaster averted. Or so I thought.

Late yesterday morning I looked out my patio door to see if the nest was still there. It was. I then looked to see if mama and daddy were still hanging around. They were. Then I spied something lying on the concrete patio just outside the screen porch. It was a gray shape that looked suspiciously like the babies I had returned to their nest just the day before. With a knot of dread in my stomach, I grabbed my gloves and went outside. Sure enough, it was the corpse of a baby sparrow. Two others lay next to it. I gathered them up and tossed them in the woods -- it was really hot, and they stank. I was so sad, but not overly surprised...I thought they might have been injured in their original fall and died in the nest - only to be heaved out by their parents overnight. I checked the nest from above through a crack on the deck floor and saw two more babies - one obviously alive, one obviously dead. I thought I might see the dead one on the concrete this morning when I got up.

This morning I set my own babies down to their breakfast and stepped out onto the deck for a smoke. I looked over the railing - and sure as shit, there was a baby lying on the concrete. I about died when the damn thing moved. I immediately ran downstairs, brought the stool and the gloves back out, and returned the live baby to its nest. I found the corpse of the dead baby and tossed it.

And since then, all day long, I have been extremely concerned about the welfare of the one surviving baby. I don't know how the damn thing has survived two ten-foot falls, but it's still breathing every time I check on it. I even saw mama sitting in the nest and apparently feeding her baby. The last time I looked in on it, it was hanging half out of the nest - still breathing, and I once again put it back in. Perhaps another attempt - this one failed - by mama to heave the baby over the side again? Quite frankly, I don't think it's looking too good for my little buddy. I'm pretty sure he'll be dead by morning, and probably lying on the concrete for the third damn time.

I kind of feel like this is Human vs. Bird. I suppose there's a reason the mama bird tosses her babies out of the nest, and I'm probably interfering and meddling by continuing to pick them up and put them back in. But I'll tell you what - the poor little thing is still alive, and I'm all for giving it a chance to live. I know that humans and birds are nothing alike, and I understand the concepts "survival of the fittest" and "the circle of life." But I am a mother, and my maternal instinct kicked into overdrive as soon as I saw the nest on the ground on Monday. I just had to try and save these poor defenseless brand-new baby birds. I guess I'll never understand why small-brained animals behave the way they do, or why their instincts tell them to do certain things. Maybe the real problem here is that I have to see it because it's right outside my fricking door. If the nest wasn't attached to my house, this wouldn't be a problem.

Maybe it's time to bird-proof the old screen porch?

One Week and Six Pounds Down!

2011-06-07T11:00:00.000-05:00

I have had more than my fair share of misfortune in the last 12 months. A shitty husband (with apologies, respect, and love to any of his family members that may be reading this), separation, reduced time with my kids, two failed short sales and resulting impending foreclosure, IRS troubles, divorce, bankruptcy...I've been through the wringer, to put it mildly. Truth be told, I've spent much of the last year feeling like a victim, like I just didn't have all that much to feel good about...including (and especially) myself. It has most definitely been a very tough year.

A little more than a week ago, I had an epiphany. There is something I can do, over which I have complete control, that would help me to finally feel better about myself. And that something is losing weight. This is my opportunity to stop feeling sorry for myself, and instead start feeling proud of myself. Confident. Comfortable in my own skin. Whoa - there's a concept.

Trouble is, losing weight is damn hard. And it's a damn lot of work. It's easy to talk yourself out of doing that work in favor of taking the easy way and pretending to not care what you look like. But I've discovered that it's impossible to not care. You do, even if you think you don't. I decided I'm tired of wearing oversized t-shirts to hide my body. I want to feel comfortable in whatever I'm wearing, whether it be a dress or a bathing suit.

One thing I've learned about myself, and I suspect this might be true of Americans in general, is that my brain and my body are wired completely differently. My body craves the good stuff like veggies and lean proteins. That's what my body wants and needs to function. My brain, however, doesn't see it that way. My brain wants instant gratification in the form of processed sugars, fats, starches and salts. That shit tastes so much better than the good stuff. So my brain has been forcing my poor body to take in this nutritionless but totally tasty crap and somehow make it work. This results in the "3:00 crash," too much caffeine, sleepless nights, and the inability to keep up with the kids.

So after my epiphany, I decided to start making some changes, pronto. To start controlling what goes into my body and see what results I get. I've done this several times before, so I know how it works - but this time I have the best of all reasons: to start taking care of myself and renew my pride in myself. First off the menu: Mountain Dew, crackers and chips, cheese, and bread. Back on the menu: veggies, fruit, and water. Oh - and working out regularly has become a must. MyPlate on LiveStrong.com has been an indispensable tool for tracking what I eat and the progress I'm making.

And, well, the results after the first week are stunning. Six pounds lost in a single week. I'm starting to see white stretch marks (the GOOD stretch marks) in areas that have already substantially shrunk. I can already wear pants that just two weeks ago I couldn't even button. I proudly wore a tank top in public yesterday. I haven't experienced a 3:00 crash yet. I've been sleeping better. All great things, and all excellent motivators. Signs that all the work and willpower is paying off.

I'm not deluding myself - I know that one successful week doesn't make for an easy journey. But I'll tell you what - it just has to be easier than what I've been through in the last 12 months - and will yield much more positive results. I mean, there is nothing better than renewed self-confidence...that's what will give me the power to rise above the negativity. I cannot wait.

Check this shit out...

The New Old Me.

2011-04-26T22:00:00.000-05:00

Well, it's official. As of 9:00 last Friday morning, my marriage is over. At the risk of seeming macabre, I like to say this:

R.I.P. Jennifer DeVries Caron (4/15/06-4/22/11)

I've bid farewell to Jennifer Caron, and have welcomed Jennifer Rae DeVries back. It feels really good to have my old name - my real name - back.

It's crazy to think that five years has come and gone. It's crazy to think that I'm divorced, and now a single mother. But I'll tell you what - even though I didn't plan it this way, I've always believed that things happen for a reason. In this case, the reason is the two beautiful children sleeping soundly upstairs. I know that everything in my life had to happen exactly the way it did, because any deviation from the path I took would mean I wouldn't have my kids. Clearly my marriage wasn't meant to last -- but when I look at my little man and my baby girl, I find it very difficult to be bitter. Instead I'm grateful. Optimistic. Confident. Feeling more and more like my old self every day. And I'm feeling deep in my bones that there's something bigger and better waiting for me just over the horizon. Whatever that may end up being, I'm so glad I'll be able to share it with my kids.

These two goofballs are the reason for everything I do.

Price Phillip, age 3-1/2

Kendall Rae, age 14 mos

Tattoos Really Do Tell A Story.

2011-01-16T17:31:00.000-06:00

As many of you have heard or seen, in November I finally got myself inked. I've always wanted to get a tattoo, and first started seriously considering the idea at the age of 16. Of course, at that time I was too young to get it done myself, and besides...I knew I wanted one, but I didn't know what I wanted or where I wanted it.

A real conundrum, to be sure. It took me 18 years to finally figure it out. The day after Thanksgiving my KC friend Sarah took me to a tattoo studio near her house - Exile Tattoo - and the wonderful Steven Campbell worked his magic on my skin.

Prior to heading to Kansas City for Thanksgiving, I spent weeks honing my designs. I knew that one of the tats would have to be my goose. Story on that coming up. The other was to be my mommy tat, and that one took a bit of time and research to decide on. My mommy tat needed to be personal and symbolic, yet unique. I wanted a piece of artwork that depicted strength (the Celtic knot), motherhood (the heart shape of this particular Celtic knot), and how important my kids are to me (their names and birthdates, and the purple/white in the knot for their birthstone colors). I had all the separate elements, and Steven did a fantastic job of putting them all together for me. I asked that the tat be placed on my upper left arm, close to my heart. Here's the end result (remember that this pic was taken right after the tat was finished, so it's a bit bloody and swollen):

Maybe a bit extreme for a very first tattoo, but it's exactly what I wanted. And it didn't even hurt that badly. When Steve was done, I felt like I had just gotten the world's biggest flu shot in my left arm.

Next up, the goose. This one would turn out to be my most deeply personal and inspirational piece of body art -- more so than I'd even anticipated. See, I consider the goose to be my "totem" - my animal spirit guide, such as was believed by Native American cultures. The goose is a symbol of loyalty, bravery, and determination. The goose is fiercely protective of its young. The goose never leaves one of it own behind. Nowhere in the animal kingdom is there an animal that better describes and represents my own personality.

My father nicknamed me "Goofy Goose" as a very young child, and called me that for many, many years. In college, I carried on the name by introducing myself as "Goose." That nickname really stuck; there are many cherished friends who still call me that, to this day. The goose is a part of my soul; I felt it appropriate to honor that by inscribing it on my body.

I chose a silhouette of a flying snow goose, and decided to place it on my inner right forearm and color it solid black. There it would be easily visible, and a constant reminder that it is OK to move forward with my life, putting myself and my children first. The goose would be my promise to myself that I will never again allow anybody to take advantage of me, treat me poorly, or destroy my self esteem.

And that is a promise I have taken very seriously. It's amazing how a simple visual reminder like a tattoo can change my perspective. In the six or seven weeks since I got this tattoo, I have shed many anxieties, started rebuilding my self-confidence, and even exorcised an old demon I'd been carrying around for several years. I feel more like myself than I have in a very, very long time. The goose reminds me that I deserve nothing less than 100% - in relationships, in friendships, at work, anywhere. Nobody gets to make me believe differently.

I have a long road ahead of me as I work my way through ending my marriage and starting my life over. It is a process, and a taxing one, at that. But with the support of my amazing family and wonderful friends, and the magic of my goose tattoo, I know I'll get there.

Giving Many Thanks.

2010-11-25T08:29:00.000-06:00

I'm doing Thanksgiving Kansas City style this year, celebrating with my bestie Sarah. I drove down instead of flying, spending roughly 8 hours in the car. I left super early in order to avoid incoming nasty weather, and the first half of my trip was utterly uneventful. Weather was fine, roads were dry, and I literally lost count of all the windmills and cell phone towers in Northern Iowa.

Then, as if on some heavenly timer, the skies opened and it started raining the minute I arrived in Ames. Normally not a big deal, but the temperature hovered at 32 degrees, and the risk of the rain starting to freeze was very real. So I slowed down, put my hands at 10-and-2 on the wheel, and took my time. I sure didn't want to end up in the ditch.

After about 20 miles, I rolled in to the northern edge of Des Moines. The roads were wet but not overly slippery, but I still took it slow. I saw some commotion at the bottom of a hill - mile marker 95 - and wondered what was going on. There were several cars pulled over to both sides of the road with their hazard lights blinking, people standing around in the median. I slowed to crawling behind the gawkers and saw why: a big, battered silver pickup truck lay on its side in the center median. Several people stood around the truck, some holding kids, their hair being violently whipped by the 30mph freezing wind. One gentleman in an Iowa State jacket hustled around the median, picking up the bags and items of clothing which had been strewn every which way. A woman's head popped up through the driver's side window - she was standing inside the cab - and she looked very shaken. The people around her started helping her out of the truck. Emergency vehicles had not yet arrived; I'm guessing I came along maybe two minutes after the rollover accident happened. Apparently the roads were in worse shape than I thought they were.

The scene brought tears to my eyes. This family's Thanksgiving holiday was ruined, their possessions lying in the rain in a highway median. Their vehicle was totaled. It appeared that everyone was OK, but having been in accidents myself, I suspected they would all make precautionary trips to the hospital to get checked out. They would not get to their final destination to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday with family or friends, and that made me sad.

My tears weren't only those of sadness. I was absolutely amazed by the quick response and compassion of strangers. There were no fewer than a half dozen vehicles pulled over, and there was a literal crowd surrounding the ruined truck. I'm sure that strangers held the kids and calmed them while the parents made sure everyone was out. I imagine that the guy in the median was a stranger helping to collect the family's stuff. It would be so easy to just keep driving after witnessing an accident - but the overwhelming majority of folks stop and do what they can to help. That scene really underscored my belief that people are inherently good - and on this Thanksgiving, I needed that reinforcement.

I am thankful for the kindness and compassion of strangers. I am thankful for my bestie Sarah and her hospitality this weekend. I am so thankful for my family, who have been utterly instrumental in helping me through this trying year. I am thankful for my friends - I don't see them nearly often enough, but they continue to love me for me, and I love them just as much. I am blessed to be the mother of two beautiful and amazing children, who remind me that life really is exciting and new every single day. Happy Thanksgiving to you all - thank you for enriching my life.

Who Needs MySpace?

2010-11-19T14:55:00.000-06:00

I decided to do away with my MySpace account today. I did manage to save the one awesome thing I had there - a video of Price the first time he walked across a room. This made me tear up, and it seems like such a long time ago. Won't be long before Kendall's doing the same thing. *sigh* They grow so fast...

Price Walking

Soul Food.

2010-08-27T14:59:00.000-05:00

I never thought I'd be a gardener. But over the last three years, I've found a certain peace in maintaining a garden, and a ton of pride in sharing the literal fruits of my labor with my loved ones. It's interesting; I find myself planting far more produce than I could ever eat myself. Granted, at the time I planted I thought I'd have a family to feed. But it feels so much better to share.

This spring I decided to break out of my little 5 ft by 5 ft patch and build a bigger garden. I did a lot of online research and meticulously planned. Shawn and his buddies built me 5 enormous raised beds, giving me 250 square feet of garden to play with.

And on May 16, with my mother's green thumb assisting, I planted my garden with, from left:

Green beans and sugar snap peas
Red potatoes and sweet potatoes
Watermelon and cantaloupe
Spinach, leaf lettuce, and carrots
Pumpkins and cucumbers

Outside of the garden, I planted tomatoes and bell peppers in Topsy Turvy trees, and planted strawberries in my old garden patch.

As the summer wore on, I watched with tremendous pride as the seeds germinated and grew. I lovingly weeded out as necessary so the remaining plants could grow unhindered. I would take periodic breaks from my work and go outside to weed or water the Topsy Turvies. I watched bees buzz between the flowers on my pumpkins, cukes, cantaloupe, and watermelon to pollinate them and turn them into fruit. I ate beans and peas directly off the vine. I stood staring at the potato plants, wondering how the underground tubers were growing. I could not wait to start harvesting and tasting the results.

Here we are now, nearly to the end of summer. The tomatoes, peas, spinach, lettuce, carrots, and red potatoes have run their course...and were delicious!

I wasn't sure if the chipmunks would let me have any strawberries, but I guess I prevailed:

I have so many cucumbers, and I don't know what on earth I'm going to do with them.

Yesterday I picked two cantaloupe and five pumpkins, and more of both are on the way. By the way, the melons are better than anything you can get in the grocery store. Period.

The green beans just keep on producing...and they are so good, when you cook them they taste like butter.

I wasn't sure that I would get any watermelon, but take a look at this. Can't wait to find out how this puppy tastes.

Listen to me, I'm like a proud mother.

This garden has given me so much more than food. This garden has provided distraction and peace during a very difficult time in my life. It has given me common ground and things to share with my neighbors, my family, and my friends.. It is a source of tremendous pride -- being able to nurture a seed into a beautiful and edible food is challenging, fun, and very satisfying. My mom says I comefrom a long line of farmers, and affectionately calls me Farmer Jen. I'm beginning to think the moniker's pretty close to the reality!

Faith vs. Superstition

2010-08-16T12:42:00.008-05:00

On my lunch break I hopped in my car and drove over to St. Maximilan Catholic Bookstore in downtown Elk River. I asked the mild-mannered lady behind the counter if she sold "little St. Joseph statues." She asked if I was trying to sell my house, and then got up and pulled a smallish box out of a drawer behind the counter. I thought, but didn't actually say:

Are St. Joseph statues in such hot demand that you have to keep them behind the counter? I mean, who's gonna steal a little plastic statue?

I told her that I'd heard it works. She said, "Sure, if you have faith and aren't superstitious about it." Uh oh. Am I that transparent? I thought for sure I was busted. She then handed over the box, but I thought I detected some trepidation as she did so.

I took the box and commented on how cute he is. After that I thought for sure she was going to take him away from me. I hurriedly paid $8.50 and got out of there, feeling a bit like a heathen.

I found I couldn't wait to get home and meet the little statue I've affectionately nicknamed Joe.

Here's what I got for my $8.50:

I pulled Joe out of the box and discovered three small sheets of paper: An Introduction to the Saint Joseph Home Sale Practice, A Petition to St. Joseph (a prayer, basically), and the original Prayer to St. Joseph (over 1900 years old!). On the back of that last one was an address to which I could send a donation, should I graciously decide to share my good fortune with the Pious Union of St. Joseph.

I read over all the papers to see if there were any specific instructions I should follow. Finding none, I decided to bury Joe in a vacant portion of my backyard garden. I grabbed the statue, my shoes, and my camera and trekked outside.

It took me a few seconds to decide on an appropriate garden spot for Joe. I decided on the empty carrot bed, as it was closest to my house. I grabbed the garden trowel and dug a hole:

I gently placed Joe right-side up in the hole and covered him with dirt. I even remembered to mark him so I would know where to find him later:

And then, because I really want to try and be faithful rather than superstitious, I stood there next to the garden and recited aloud the Petition to St. Joseph:

Dear St. Joseph, head of the most perfect household, foster father of Jesus and guardian of His mother Mary, I confidently place myself and all my concerns under your care and protection. I ask that, through your powerful intercession with God, you obtain for me all the help and graces that I need for my spiritual and temporal welfare and in particular, the special favor I now ask: the prompt sale of my home.

Good St. Joseph, I know with confidence, that your prayers on my behalf will be heard by God, and if it is His Will, it will be done.

Thank you St. Joseph, for having responded to my call.

Amen.

I don't think any of my neighbors saw me doing this, but if they happened to look outside, they probably think I'm a little cuckoo. Okay, a lot cuckoo.

But hey. You do what you gotta do, right? Here's hoping St. Joseph heard me and decides to send a little mojo my way.

I'll Try (Almost) Anything Once.

2010-08-15T21:30:00.003-05:00

I'm not Catholic. My dad comes from a long line of Catholics, even went to Catholic school. Me, not so much. My feelings about the Catholic church have always been complicated, even though I've never understood why. Maybe something about that dream I had as a kid where the Jesus on the crucifix turned into a big bad gorilla, and I had to hide amongst the bikes in the parking lot bike rack to keep from being eaten.

But that's an entirely different blog post.

I'm considering another brush with Catholicism as I try like hell to sell my house. That's right...St. Joseph and I are about to become good friends.

St. Joseph is the Catholic patron saint of family and household. They tell me that if I bury a 4-inch plastic statue of the guy upside-down in my yard, and then pray to him, that my house will sell quickly. Um, what?

Now, I'm not the superstitious type. Nor am I Catholic. I'm having some difficulty understanding how this could possibly work. How on earth can there be any spiritual significance to a mass-produced plastic statue that comes in a kit? I mean, really? But everyone I've talked to swears by it, including a close Jewish friend of mine who says her mom's and her grandmother's house sold after they planted St. Joseph in the yard.

That's good enough for me.

Tomorrow I'm going to swing by the local Catholic bookstore and pick me up a St. Joseph kit. I'll bring it home, bust out the garden trowel, and bury him upside-down in the yard. According to the kit's instructions, of course. And then...I'll pray.

St. Joseph, send some mojo my way.

This Is My New Reality.

2010-07-30T20:45:00.003-05:00

I'm sitting here in a camp chair on my empty deck, smoking a cigarette (yep, I fell right off the bandwagon) and drinking V8 V-Fusion straight out of the bottle. It's a nice overcast evening, my beloved kiddos are in bed sawing logs, and I'm reflecting on my life as it is today.

In case you haven't heard, it's a lot different now.

I'm on the path to becoming a single woman again. I won't go into specifics; just know that it has been a long time coming. It sucks, I'm sad and mad and hurt and perplexed and tired and hopeful and optimistic (I got the salad bowl of emotions going these days), but I also know it's for the best. I've spent the last few weeks with my head in the sand, trying to figure out what happened and what to do next. I don't know that I've come even close to figuring anything out yet, but I'm making slow progress.

Shawn moved out a month ago. We have our house on the market and have had 5 showings in six weeks -- way better activity than I expected. We're splitting time with our kids 50/50; one week on, one week off. This is probably the most difficult thing I've done in my personal history. When the kids are gone, I miss them terribly. I mope around for an entire week, not knowing what the hell to do with myself because caring for them is literally all I have done for the last three years. When they're with me, I'm whole again -- but finding out how hard a job single parenting is. I feel like a half-time parent, which breaks my heart.

(Umm, neighbor with the fireworks? You just scared the bejesus out of me. Thank you very much.)

So it's been an adjustment, and will continue to be for a long, long time. Right now I'm not sure I'll ever get used to splitting time with my kids.

Beyond that, though, I'm feeling pretty good about what lies ahead of me. I have a lot of work to do paying off debt, healing, and reestablishing myself...but I'm not afraid. I'm excited to start moving ahead. The only thing holding me back is the house. Once it sells, watch out. :)

I also sometimes wonder if love will ever find me again, and what that would be like. I'm no spring chicken anymore. In fact, I find more and more white in my hair every day. I've been out of the game for so long that I might have forgotten how to play it. How many single guys my age are even out there? But then again, that kind of thinking is premature. I have a lot of healing to do first before I can even think of sharing myself with someone again.

So. This is my new reality. Like it or not, it's what I have to work with. I'm fortunate to have a wonderful support system; without my family and friends' love and support, I would not be able to get through this. I love you all more than I could ever tell you.

Culture Shock.

2010-04-29T16:10:00.002-05:00

Hi! I know, it's been awhile. Turns out that having a baby puts a serious crimp in blogging time. :) But - here I am now! And I've been composing this post in my head for days.

My little brother got married last week. One week ago today, in fact. That in itself is so wonderful and deserves an entire post. He and Tara chose to do a destination wedding...and the destination was Isla Mujeres, Mexico...located about seven miles off the coast of Cancun in the Mexican Caribbean.

I've never really been out of the country. Well, I guess that isn't technically true. I spent one weekend in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada when I was very young. I don't remember too well. I also spent one insane night in Tijuana during the summer of 1997. I also don't remember much of that, but for entirely different reasons. :) I took a cruise to the Bahamas in 2003 as well...but a cruise is really a very controlled environment. I didn't see much of anything while on that trip.

This time was to be very different! One week in Mexico, woo hoo! I had my passport, my swimsuit, my pasty white Minnesotan skin, and plenty of SPF 30. I was set. The journey to Isla was pretty uneventful; the flight was about equivalent to my flights to southern California. The shuttle from the airport to the ferry was only slightly crazy. The ferry from Cancun to Isla was kind of fun, even though it was raining.

I didn't really notice anything around me until I set foot off the ferry. Isla looked so...so poor! There were many damaged and abandoned houses and properties. The streets were cobbled and very narrow. Entire families were piled on mopeds. All the signs were in Spanish. People made their homes in tiny spaces between buildings or on second floors. Natives with leathery skin and dirty shirts sat on ratty lawnchairs outside ramshackle shops or houses. On our way to our hotel, what I saw wasn't paradise; it was poverty. I felt a bit depressed. I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it. I'd never seen anything like this before.

Then we got to the hotel. No five-star resort this; Cabanas Maria Del Mar had a tiny little lobby, but a beautiful garden around which most of the rooms were situated. In two of the sections of the hotel, the rooms themselves were dated in decoration, and many systems, such as electrical and hot water, were rather suspect. The floors were tile. There was a small TV that broadcast pretty much exclusively Mexican programming - in Spanish. Did you know ESPN broadcasts in Spanish? I didn't.

Our room had air conditioning, which was a bonus in such a hot and humid climate. But the shower leaked all over the floor, and -- get this -- we were not allowed to flush used toilet paper down the toilet. That had to go into the wastebasket, regardless if you went Number One or Number Two. This utterly horrified me. I managed to accept and get used to the idea as the week progressed; but I never really liked it. On a high note, the forced change in habit did something to my brain to ensure that I stayed nice and regular all week. ~sigh~ Anyway, this was the rule because on Isla, they flush their waste -- including human waste -- directly into the ocean. This depressed me a bit more.

The turning point for me -- when I started seeing the beauty of the island rather than the poverty -- came after our first meal. I had embarked on this trip already afraid of the food and the water. I'd heard some nasty stories about "Montezuma's Revenge." So I wasn't sure if eating at any of the many restaurants on Isla would make me sick...I figured I'd have to find out the hard way. And I was very pleasantly surprised. Not only did I not get sick, but the food was excellent. And so was the beer.

After that, I began noticing how friendly the island natives are. Tourists are their bread and butter, so I suppose they have to be friendly. But they also seemed content with their lot in life. They may stuff seven people into 600 square feet, and everyone may sleep in hammocks, but at least they have a roof over their heads. Such a different mindset than Americans. Here, no matter what you have, it isn't enough. The house isn't big enough, the car isn't prestigious enough, your kid has to go to Harvard. In Mexico (on Isla, anyway), kids attend public schools for about 3 hours a day and only learn the very basics. I doubt many of them end up going to college. Instead, they get into the tourist trade, maybe make their product by hand, and work their asses off. All for that 600 square feet and a moped.

By the end of the week, I was comfortably speaking basic Spanish to the locals, dealing in pesos rather than American dollars, and enjoying every moment on the island. I saw the paradise. The major difference in culture was a big eye-opener for me, and helped me to put my own life into perspective. It's hard to take what you have for granted when you see people who have next to nothing. I imagine this is exactly how Angelina Jolie feels when she does her thing for the United Nations.

I will forever remember my trip to Isla, and I hope to return someday. I have a million pics posted to Facebook if you want to check them out. :)

Ten Years Ago Tomorrow.

2010-02-10T05:53:00.004-06:00

On February 11, 2000, this world lost a beloved soul. John Charles Jansen passed away unexpectedly at the age of 27, leaving behind a devastated widow, a grieving family, stunned friends, and a legacy.

It was a tangled web we wove, Johnny and me. I first met him at a church youth group function. I was maybe 12 or 13 years old. He was four years my senior. He was wicked smart with a lightning-fast wit and a mischievous grin. He sang like an angel and played the piano. He made me laugh. He gave neck and shoulder rubs that to this day cannot be matched. I thought he knew everything...looking back, he was probably 80% BS, but at the time I thought he was utterly brilliant. I adored him from the beginning, and we became fast friends.

Fast forward a couple of years, to 1992. My first year of Summer Assembly, a church camp with a long and storied tradition in my church. I was one of only three people from my youth group to go that year, and the only girl...so I was essentially on my own as far as making friends. Turned out to not be a problem. On my first day there, I was walking down the hall of the girls' floor of the dorm, and happened to see a young lady unpacking her stuff in her room. I stopped at the door and asked her for the time. We were inseparable from that moment on. Jennifer and I shared a first name and a love of Mountain Dew...and that's where the similarities pretty much ended. She was a year older than me, grew up on a farm, and had a high school class of maybe 50 people. My dad used to joke that she and I were like City Mouse, Country Mouse. But we hit it off big time and became BFFs.

That was also the year that John and Jen hooked up. Sort of another City Mouse/Country Mouse pairing, but they were good for each other. John went off to college in Oklahoma later that summer. He and Jen kept in touch by phone and by letters. John also sent me a few letters telling me all about college life and how he pined for Jennifer. It was really very sweet. He ended up leaving Oklahoma and coming back to Minnesota shortly thereafter. He was in the Cities, finishing up school at the U of M. Upon graduation from high school in 1994, Jen went to Rochester for nursing school. They managed a successful long-distance relationship for nearly six years all told...a feat unlike anything I've ever seen. They finally moved in together after Jen graduated nursing school and moved to the Cities.

Shortly after that, in 1998, they were married.

I was always on the periphery of all this, going to college in Wisconsin and trying to manage a long-distance relationship of my own. I didn't have nearly the luck, which ended up being prophetic. Because at John and Jen's wedding, I met Mike. Mikey was Johnny's buddy, and I was vaguely familiar with him from high school. Also a year older than me, Mike had lived next door to my best friend all through high school, and was the type to grow his hair long and wear army pants and combat boots. He'd grown out of that phase by the time I met him. He and I hit it off fast, and were officially together within a month of John and Jen's wedding.

And that made the Fantastic Four: John and Jen, me and Mike. The four of us did EVERYTHING together. I probably spent more nights at John and Jen's house than I did at my own. We would hop in our cars and caravan to Jen's parents' farm or my parents' cabin every chance we got. We visited Troy and Julie in Wisconsin -- even spent two New Years Eves with them. We spent time with Harry and Nicole and their little guy (who isn't quite so little anymore). A whole lot of alcohol was consumed (in fact, Johnny made the drink that got me drunk for the first time), many bonfires were enjoyed, Jen cooked I don't even know how many excellent homemade meals for us...life was awesome. We were young, having fun, partying, and pretty much invincible.

Until I got the call that changed my life.

Jen called me at work that Friday morning, hysterical, telling me that Johnny had collapsed at work. I dropped everything, picked her up at home, and drove like a bat out of Hell to Johnny's office. We were too late...he was gone by the time we got there. Jen was a widow at age 24, after less than two years of marriage. Mikey had lost his best friend in the whole world. My dear friend, who gave the best bear hugs and made me literally shriek with laughter, would do so no more.

Johnny's untimely death deeply affected everyone who knew him. Jen, Mike, and I didn't know how to carry on without John. The aura of our little group was darker now, filled with tears instead of laughter. So much sadness. We tried, but we couldn't do it. Within the year, my relationship with Mike had ended. Shortly thereafter, Jennifer and I severed our friendship too. The sadness and the grief became toxic to our relationships (I think because we all reminded each other of John and what we had lost), and we all needed to go our separate ways in order to heal. God, that was the most painful time of my life.

As it does, time did eventually heal us all. Jen and I reunited a few years ago and still talk occasionally. So much changed in the five years that we were separated, and we both matured a lot. Our friendship will never be the same as it was ten years ago, but she will always be a cherished friend to me.

Mikey and I don't keep in contact really, but we are FB friends so we can each keep up with what the other is doing.

I sometimes wonder what sort of path our lives would have taken if Johnny had lived. Would we all still be together? Or would the separations that his death spurred have happened anyway, just under different circumstances? We'll never really know, but I'm pretty sure that each of our lives would be different than they are now.

Here's to you, Johnny. Ten years have passed, but it still feels like you left us yesterday. I miss you dearly.

John Charles Jansen

1/9/73 - 2/11/00

Troy, John, Mike in back, Harry in white. Taken 9/98.

On Finding Balance

2010-02-02T20:32:00.003-06:00

I honestly think that finding your true balance is the most difficult thing to do in life. There are so many things to juggle, and so few hours in a day. Things like work, home, family, friends, and so many other obligations. I've discovered that it is very easy for me to lose myself as I work to meet the needs and demands of those around me. I also think this is an age-old problem for women in general. Never really thought this would happen to me, but tonight I realized that it most certainly has.

Imagine a playground teeter-totter. A balanced life, where a girl can take care of others and take care of herself, would show a perfectly horizontal board. Not too much weight on either end...just a comfortable balance. In my mind, balance = contentment.

I realized this evening that I have zero balance in my life. The board on my personal teeter-totter is completely cattywampus - the "others" end is planted firmly in the ground, while the "self" end hovers beyond reach in the air. Without even realizing it, I've allowed myself to put the needs of my children, my husband, and my career ahead of my own well-being. What? When -- and how -- did this happen?

The last five years of my life have seen many, many major changes. Job change, marriage, house, Kid #1, another job change, hubby's entrepreneurial success, Kid #2 (due any minute)...it's enough to overwhelm anyone:

After coming within a cat's whisker of being fired from a job I loved by a crazy, vindictive boss I hated, I spent seven months unemployed and looking for a job. I think I cried every single day during that time.
Becoming a wife was a HUGE adjustment for me. I'd been single and living on my own for so long, it took me a long time to get used to and fully accept sharing my life and my home with someone else. I sometimes still struggle with it. But not like I used to.
About a year after we married, and while I was pregnant with our son, we bought our first house together. A huge milestone, to be sure, but one that carries plenty of stress.
Our son was born six months later. My most joyous and scariest personal moment. I had no idea how much having a baby would change my relationship with my husband...and really, my whole life. All needs except his became irrelevant the second I heard him cry for the first time.
The second job change took me out of a long daily commute and office environment, and put me in a telecommuting environment, where I get to work from home every day. Overall a hell of a gig, but I rarely leave my house anymore.
In the last year, my husband's business has utterly exploded. It's wonderful to see him succeed, but his work takes him away from us a lot. And he deals with more than his fair share of stress.
And now, our daughter is due to join us any day. I'll be so glad to be done being pregnant, and just cannot wait to meet this little lady. But I'm also a teeny bit apprehensive, knowing that our lives are going to change again as we learn how to parent two children.

This is my life these days. Quite frankly, it's kind of a lonely life. I don't get out much, I don't see my friends much, I don't do much for myself anymore. I've lost my balance. I don't get many opportunities to be good to myself, and when they come up I find myself feeling guilty for doing what I need so badly. I really can't blame anybody but myself...I don't really seek those opportunities out anymore, either.

So. Sob story aside, I've decided that 2010 is the Year of Jen. I'll need to give myself some time to recoup and readjust after baby arrives...but come this spring, I'm going to start paying better attention to myself. I know now that I have to, in order to be a better wife and a better mother. I don't have to be a slave to my husband's schedule, my house, or my reluctance to ask for babysitting help. Some ideas that I plan to implement (and I'm always open to more ideas):

Regular date night with my husband
Reach out to and get together with my friends more often (I really miss you guys)
Join the local MOPS group to meet more mothers of young children near me
Re-register for ECFE classes with Price and baby
Find a volunteer opportunity in my community
Go to my brother-in-law's shows when his band performs
Re-join the YMCA and sign up for a volleyball league
Reduce my dependence on e-mail and Facebook, and pick up the damn phone more often
Pay better attention to how I dress. Wearing PJ pants and T-shirts all day every day just isn't good for me.

It feels kind of good to have a plan. Now I can't wait to implement it. But, I suppose...first things first. OK, Baby...you can come anytime now. Mama's ready.

On Mommyhood

2010-01-22T14:22:00.004-06:00

One of the most wonderful things about my cellphone is its ability to take video. So many times I've been able to catch precious Price moments on video because I always have my phone.

I've posted most of those videos to Facebook, and today I watched them all. What struck me with all of them is how much I laugh while taking video of Price. Watching him grow and learn and talk and try new things delights me so much, I just have to giggle. And I love being able to share that joy with anyone willing to watch!

I'm counting down the days now until the arrival of #2. Trying to anticipate how our lives will change yet again with another baby is stressful. Worrying about how Price will adjust to a new baby is stressful. But you know, watching videos of my son does put it all into perspective. A new baby is hard, hard work at first...but everyone adjusts and life smooths out. I sometimes forget this as I worry worry worry.

I mean, come on. We've gotten this far without killing or screwing up our first kid. The second should be a breeze, right?

What Do I Want To Be When I Grow Up?

2010-01-07T13:03:00.003-06:00

Ah, you gotta love January. The holidays have passed, the new year (new decade, in this case) has begun, and this is the prime time for folks to stop and take a good look inside themselves; to ask, "Am I happy with my life and where I'm going?"

Now, most of the time the answer is rather superficial. "I'd be happier if I could lose 20 lbs". "I'd be happier if I could find a different job." "I'd be happier if I could quit smoking." And 9 times out of 10 those resolutions fall by the wayside as people resume their normal way of life, content to go on as they have and deciding that nothing really needed changing.

That's how it's always been for me, so for many years I've shied away from making any new year's resolution at all. There's a weird pressure that comes with making life-changing decisions and choosing January 1 as the implementation date. Some things you just can't plan that way, I guess; you can't force them into the framework of a new year's resolution. For example, every time I decided to quit smoking on January 1, I failed. I finally quit for good, spontaneously, in February of last year. Twice I decided to seriously try losing weight and succeeded, and neither time on January 1.

Bottom line is, change is totally possible outside the new year's resolution. But there's one thing I've always wanted to do, and haven't yet succeeded at any time, on any level: to write. I've always been a writer at heart, and it's one of my life's goals to write a novel someday...to follow in the footsteps of my idol, Stephen King. But for whatever reasons, I've found it extremely difficult to apply my energies and limited time to this effort.

Sometimes I think I must not want it that badly; I reason that if I want something badly enough, I'll make the time for it. Turns out that available time is hard to come by, between my full-time career, my 2-year-old son, my current pregnancy and forthcoming infant daughter, my husband, my house, and family obligations. There just isn't much left, unless I'm willing to give up sleep. And I'm kinda not. SO -- I know what I want, but I don't know how to make it happen.

The ideas always come. I just have a hard time sitting down and putting those ideas into words, and transcribing those words onto paper. I have the confidence in my skills, in my abilities to tell a story. I'm just out of practice. Rusty. Distracted. Sidetracked. Bowing to competing priorities.

So, in 2010 I'm going to make a real effort to make the time and produce at least one story that is fresh-baked out of my own head. I'm not even going to worry about publishing or any of that back-end stuff. My "resolution" is to get back into writing shape and finally do something for myself. I suspect that it will feel really good to do that. And who knows? Maybe this effort will finally take me down the path that I've kept blocked for so many years.

Time To Take The Blinders Off.

2009-11-22T15:16:00.002-06:00

I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this, but I discovered yesterday that I am truly politically ignorant. And the more I think about it, the closer I come to the realization that I think I've done this to myself on purpose. I'll explain.

Yesterday during a long ride in the car, my dad, who teases me about my liberal leanings and often tries to engage me in political discourse, decided to "take my political temperature" and quiz me about politics, macro and micro. And while it was an entertaining conversation, it was an eye-opener for me. For example:

I harbor a dislike for our current governor, but couldn't really explain exactly why. Although, in my defense, I was just slightly informed enough about T-Paw's budget cuts to be able to cite the removal of funding for Minnesota's General Medical Assistance program -- which leaves a number of poorer adults in the lurch. I felt like I had a small victory there, and this truly is one of my major issues with our governor.
I recognized most of the names he mentioned, but didn't really know who represents me in Congress. I was horrified to learn it's probably Michele Bachmann -- whom I regard as a true crazy-lady.

We had a lively conversation about the Vikings and their latest push for a new stadium, which led to a discussion about taxes. The hubby and I just happened to have had a meeting with our accountant on Friday morning to finally learn our fate from 2008. We were shocked to learn that the success of my husband's business placed us squarely in a MUCH higher tax bracket last year, and we owe better than $30,000 total. A ridiculous number, and one that is starting to make me question my status as a self-proclaimed Democrat.

Now, I'm not an official member of the Democratic party, but I do have a history of liberal beliefs and have traditionally voted Democrat. I believe that Americans have a duty to help their fellow citizens, and I also believe that Obama is our next FDR. However. I'm also starting to realize that the supply of money is limited. Government-supported social service programs, education, the military, and, soon, health care all require money. I'm starting to see that that money comes directly out of the pockets of hard-working Americans. I'm finally feeling the frustration that comes with working my ass off to make enough money to support my family, and I don't get to keep around 1/3 of it. Yeah. That sucks.

What else sucks is that this frustration feels completely out of whack with my beliefs: that social services, universal health care, and a better education system are very much worth our investment. Two pointless wars, bank bailouts, and private sector bailouts -- not so much. All of these causes are competing for the American dollar, and our current economic troubles only compound the problem. Past poor decisions in the housing and financial markets are now diverting badly-needed money from the causes that need it most...all in the name of economic recovery. All to try and help our great country avoid spontaneous combustion. 10% of Americans can't even pay taxes because they lost their jobs -- and somebody has to fill in that that gap. Right now China is filling it in, but eventually they'll stop lending to our government.

The question is, where does it stop? Will I have to give the government 50% or more of my salary before they tell me they have enough to stabilize this country? I think Obama was dealt a shitty hand, and he's playing it the best he can. But pretty soon something will have to give.

Hm. I went from feeling bad that I don't know enough about local politics to giving a pseudo-macroeconomics lecture. Anyway, the point is this: it might behoove me to remove the blinders and start paying attention to what is going on around me. And maybe, just maybe, it might be good for me to find a way to contribute. I'm no politician, and you'll never see me running for office...but there are plenty of ways to get involved, right? First things first...perhaps a newspaper subscription...

My, How Time Flies

2009-10-07T19:54:00.009-05:00

Today it officially hit me...my little man turns the big 2 on Saturday. Can you believe it? Two years old. It amazes me how much time flies, and how much changes in just two years.

My kid amazes me every single day. I know that any parent in their right mind would say that about their kid...but I'm pretty sure my kid is more amazing than anyone else's. I won't bore you with all the hows. I'm not here to brag, anyway...that much.

Two years ago today I was hugely pregnant and dying to have this baby already. Little did I know that in just two days my water would break at work, and off to the hospital I would go. Eighteen hours later my firstborn would enter the world and change my life forever.

Price, 1 day old, and his daddy

And now here I am. So much has happened in the last two years, and I'm so glad I've taken thousands of pictures and written everything down to help me remember. Now my chief worries are potty training and trying to keep swear words out of his vocabulary for as long as possible.

(yeah, he'll hate me for this someday)

He is a major fan of Sesame Street, and I'm excited to be throwing him a Sesame Street-themed party on Saturday. I've been in a tizzy all week getting everything ready. Wanna see?

First, the invitation:

And the decorations. There isn't much variety in official Sesame Street party gear out there, it turns out. But we make do, right?

And finally, the part I am most excited about. Rather than a regular cake, I've decided to go all-out creative for this most special of occasions. I'm going to make Sesame Street character cupcakes! I know, I know, it's a drastic undertaking, but I'm prepared. I took Friday off of work to make sure I would have plenty of time. I scoured every store in a 15-mile radius for just the exact right sprinkles to decorate them. And this is what I hope they end up looking like:

I'm excited to do something creative for my little man's party. I always think it means so much more when a little love and elbow grease go into something for someone you love. And I do love my little man!

Stay tuned for pics from the big day!

You Are The Master Of Your Destiny

2009-09-11T20:34:00.002-05:00

I ran across the coolest story on CNN.com today. It's a great example of how someone is making the most of a terrible situation in this bad economy.

24-year-old Brianna Karp of Southern California was laid off from her job as an executive assistant a year ago July. Since then she has been unable to find a job and lost her apartment. She had been given a camper trailer by her father, and, along with her dog and her laptop, set up in an L.A.-area Walmart parking lot. Not the most ideal circumstance for anyone.

Se is educated, she is smart -- and although she's homeless, she isn't a bum. She started blogging.

Brianna has captured the attention of higher-ups at Elle magazine and scored an internship with E. Jean Carroll and as a guest writer spot on their blog. Her boyfriend was once homeless in Scotland and also blogs about his experiences. Although she isn't out of her hole yet, life is looking up for her.

And I think that is just fantastic! This is what I call creative problem-solving. Brianna and Matt are dedicated to homeless advocacy, and I'm so inspired, I just had to share. Follow the links and read the stories!

If They Can Find Jaycee, We Can Find Jacob.

2009-08-31T12:00:00.004-05:00

I don't know about you, but I have been entranced by the story of Jaycee Lee Dugard, kidnapped from North Lake Tahoe in 1991 at the age of 11. 18 years later, she has been found alive and well in Northern California. I love happy endings like this.

Stories like this always make me think of Jacob Wetterling, who was kidnapped at gunpoint from St. Joseph, MN in October 1989 - also at the age of 11. I vividly remember when this happened. I was 13 years old, and this story was huge news for a very long time. St. Joe is a small town, and things like this - a seemingly random gunpoint kidnapping of a child - just doesn't happen in a place like St. Joe. Jacob was with his younger brother and another friend, on his way home from the store. The kidnapper took Jacob and let his brother and the friend go. Nearly twenty years have passed without sign of Jacob, dead or alive.

Jacob's kidnapping also changed Halloween for us Minnesota kids forever. Suddenly you saw many more parents accompanying their kids out trick-or-treating. Kids learned to only approach houses where the front light was on. Everyone was pretty fearful that first Halloween after Jacob's disappearance, and not much has changed in 20 years, as the media has made access to information about kidnapped children a lot easier to come by.

Jacob would be 31 years old now. His parents, Patty and Jerry, still live in the same house and have the same phone number. I can't even imagine what Jacob's poor parents have endured -- Patty Wetterling has channeled her grief and energy into advocating for children's safety. She is an amazingly strong woman, and I hope she sees her son again.

Now, since Jaycee has been found, I think again about poor Jacob. Is he stashed away in some deranged psychopath's barn, basement, or backyard? What has he had to endure? Has he been tortured, sexually abused, brainwashed? Is he walking around out there in plain sight, not remembering who he really is? Is he dead, his body so well-hidden that nobody will ever find it? Jaycee's story inspires hope that Jacob may also be alive and well out there somewhere. If they can find Jaycee, we should damn well be able to find Jacob. Really, all it takes is one person to notice and report something suspicious. Minnesotans, keep your eyes and ears open!

Cursed Insomnia

2009-08-16T00:41:00.002-05:00

Here it is, nearly 1am on a Sunday morning...and it is WAY PAST my bedtime. But it seems that sleeps intends to elude me for a while. I'm not a chronic sufferer of insomnia, so nights like this, when I know I'm tired and NEED sleep, are particularly frustrating. So I thought I'd write a bit, see if that helps clear my head.

Price seems to have come down with a bug, which is, of course, always worrisome. His eyes have been goopy for the last couple of days, and today he started up with a runny nose and general malaise. It is clear that he doesn't feel well at all, and any mother hates that.

I fear that I may be coming down with something as well...sore and scratchy throat, and feeling like I have a throat full of marbles. I worry a lot about this,...what if I've caught the one virus that could hurt the baby I'm brewing? I know that the likelihood is extremely small, but still...enough to keep me awake at night, apparently.

Constant heartburn and nausea aren't helping either. If I don't fall asleep within about an hour of eating, my stomach starts to feel yooky and I start thinking I should run downstairs and get something to eat. Three times this has happened tonight. As if I'm not already over being sick all the time. I don't need this on top of that.

OK, enough complaining. Watching Hollywoodland and eating soda crackers...and sorta wishing I could take 2 Tylenol PM and turn this insomniac night into a memory.

Finally On The Upswing!

2009-08-04T15:28:00.002-05:00

Boy, I'll tell you -- Number Two has been wreaking havoc on me the last couple of months! But the good news is....I'm on the upswing now. Nausea is waning, appetite is coming back, fatigue is manageable. Still peeing like Seabiscuit and not sleeping all that well, but hey -- I'll take what I can get. I'm eleven weeks now, already popping -- but not needing maternity clothes yet. It's all good!

So today my hubby tried to talk me into visiting an entirely different hospital in order to get an ultrasound that can tell the baby's gender at 14 weeks. Patience has never been one of his strong suits; I told him he can wait till 20 weeks, like everyone else. :)

Life has been pretty low-key lately, which is a welcome change. Price continues to amaze me with how much -- and how quickly -- he learns. This morning we saw Sarina, our next door neighbor girl whom Price absolutely adores, walking through the neighborhood as we headed to daycare. We stopped to say hi to her, and as we drove to Jessica's, he said "Cheeny go walk?" over and over again. Just like he says "Daddy go work?" over and over every morning. That he even understands this is what blows my mind. Another example: we recently moved Price into his new big-boy bedroom. The transition has been remarkably easy! I'm now teaching him that his old room is the "baby room" and his old crib is "baby nigh-nigh." He gets it. He knows a baby is coming, and anything I can do to ease the transition for him will help. I may even pick up a baby doll and teach him how to be gentle with a baby. I don't know why I worry about these things; I never seem to give him quite enough credit. :)

My garden has been awesome. We've been rolling in peas and green beans and lettuce, and I just picked my first green peppers yesterday! I made stuffed peppers with them, and they were delicious. No ripe tomatoes yet, however. Waiting patiently! I should be able to harvest some carrots pretty soon, too. What a great way to get more veggies into our diets. Price will eat green beans straight from the garden...prefers them that way, actually. Who knew?

Just wanted to get a quick update out here, I know it's been awhile since I've written. Hope you're all enjoying your day!

Had Me Quite The Scare Today.

2009-07-16T20:19:00.002-05:00

You know how they say that God will never give you more than you can handle? For a few brief moments today I was sure I was the exception to the rule. I had a nasty pregnancy scare, and during those few brief moments I was sure I had lost my baby.

Fortunately I didn't miscarry, the baby is still in there and is just fine. So I guess my guardian angel is watching over me and Number Two. But I'll tell you what, I can't remember ever being that scared. Except maybe on 9/11 when my parents were on a plane to Dallas and I didn't know if theirs was one that hit the Twin Towers or not. That may qualify as the scariest moment of my life, and today's scare definitely takes second.

I automatically assumed the worst. I think I did that because I have suffered a miscarriage once already. Many of you don't know this, but I got pregnant and miscarried right after my wedding. So today I saw blood and assumed it was happening again. I was angry, disappointed, devastated, and hysterical. Never once did I consider that the blood I saw might be, well, normal. I never bled while pregnant with Price, so why would I

Oooo, John Schneider on tonight's CSI rerun. Man, I had the biggest crush on that guy as a kid.

Anyway, since I never bled during my last pregnancy, blood now would seem abnormal to me. Now that I have my wits about me again, I realize that this pregnancy has already been nothing like my last. Nothing. The doc said every pregnancy is different, just like every kid is different. I'm still amazed at how unconcerned he was about the gravity of my situation; he made me feel so very much better.

And then my wonderful father came over this evening just to take Price for a walk around the neighborhood. He is so sweet, and I sent him home with dinner since he's been a bachelor this week while my mom hangs out at the cabin with her sisters. I gave all three of the old cronies a good scare today too. :)

Now I'm enjoying my quiet house and thinking about heading to bed early. Here's a toast to the patron saint of crazy expectant mothers!

You've Heard the Rumors...

2009-07-14T15:08:00.004-05:00

...and they are true! PG tests and ultrasound confirm that Shawn and I are expecting Baby Caron #2 in February. After nearly nine months of trying, this is happy news for us!

This pregnancy is already quite different from my first one. I'm suffering from morning sickness, for one. I never did with Price, but this baby has me nauseated pretty much 24/7. Very uncomfortable, but what can an expectant mother do? Hopefully it'll subside in coming weeks.

As of today, I am 8 weeks, 2 days along. Due date is semi-officially set at 2/21/10. I'm scheduling a cesarean for this one, and they tell me that they'll do it at 39 weeks. This could very well end up being a Valentine's Day baby! Price didn't make it to 39 weeks (my water broke at 38-1/2), so this ought to be interesting!

We have lots of work to do with Price in the meantime. He'll need to be transitioned into his big-boy bedroom, and I'm a little nervous because I don't know how he'll respond to such a dramatic change. That, and I'm not sure how I feel about giving him the freedom and ability to get out of his bed and wander around at night. But I guess I can't keep him in his crib forever.

We'll also need to work with him on his jealousy of mom and dad's attention. He adores babies, and I don't see that having one around will be a problem. But the amount of time and attention a new baby will require from me is going to be a problem. My daycare provider suggested I buy a babydoll and use that to get Price used to the idea. Not a bad plan!

We will find out the gender at my 20 week ultrasound. I'm happy with whatever I get, but it sure would be nice to have one of each. Here are pics from this morning's ultrasound. This is what they used to see how far along I am and determine the due date. It's roughy the size of a kidney bean and looks a little like a gummi bear!

We've Been Here Before

2009-06-23T19:39:00.003-05:00

Raise your hand if you are devastated by last night's announcement from our favorite reality TV couple.

Now, raise your hand if you are surprised.

Really, you should be neither. Because this has all happened before. I kind of think that if you allow your life and your marriage to be run by a TV network and devoured by the ever-hungry American public, you are setting yourself up for failure. Celebrity does not treat a person kindly, and unfortunately people seem to need to learn this the hard way.

I think it's truly tragic that Jon & Kate's marriage has become a casualty of the reality TV craze -- not to mention the dollar signs they probably saw when they signed the contract. I do...nobody deserves this. But I hope somebody is telling them "I told you so."

Awesome article from the AP outlining other reality TV marriages that failed, to put it all in perspective (apologies for the pesky ads):

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Reality romance cursed? Check out the track record

Happy Father's Day!

2009-06-21T12:21:00.002-05:00

I have a quiet house right now. Shawn and Price are sleeping, it's overcast and looking like rain outside...so I'm sitting on the couch watching old movies and ignoring the mess of toys on the floor. This happens so rarely that I almost don't know what to do with myself!

They say it's Father's Day...but right now it kinda feels like Mother's Day! :)

Now - A Door In Every Room!

2009-06-19T11:29:00.005-05:00

I pose this question to you, dear reader: why on earth would someone want to stay in a hotel that bills itself as "the worst hotel in the world"?

Well, if you're me -- and many 20-somethings backpacking through Amsterdam -- the Hans Brinker Budget Hotel is so honest about its seediness that it simply must be experienced. The genius here is that the hotel lowers its customers' expectations so dramatically that they aren't disappointed when they stay in a room with pictures of chairs on the walls - but no actual chairs.

And their marketing campaign is so humorous and innovative. Utterly brilliant, folks. Don't you want to say you stayed in the worst hotel in the world? If you do, then the marketing has succeeded.

MarketingProfs B2B Forum Takeaways, Vol. 2

2009-06-09T15:29:00.002-05:00

mROI (Marketing Return on Investment): The goal is to optimize marketing spend for the short and long term in support of brand strategy by building a market model using valid, objective marketing metrics and analytics.

It's too easy to lose sight of the customer. Customer centricity is the key component to drive your strategic advantage.
- How does your customer process information?
- How does your customer make purchasing decisions (likely emotionally)?
- What are your customer's brand preferences?
- Where does your customer prefer to buy?

You must track your marketing activities. If you don't, how will you ever see trends and be able to craft or tweak your Marketing strategy?

BOOST your campaign: Brand, Objective, Offer, Sell, Track

Brand: consistently apply to all marketing design (this one is a no-brainer).
Your brand is your reputation, not your logo.
Make your brand different.

Objective:What are you trying to achieve?
Kinda have to know this before you can make any progress. Develop a plan, pencil in your goals (they are dynamic), know the customer, and run the numbers (thru a gap analysis).

Offer: There are 256 known merchandising offers. Are you using them?
Herschel Gordon Lewis' 7 copy motivators: fear, guilt, flattery, exclusivity, greed, anger, and salvation. Use as many of these in your copy as possible.
An offer is the solution to your customer's primary pain point.

Sell I must have been tweeting during this segment; I have no notes to offer!

TrackThis is the only way you'll ever know if you've truly met your objective.

This is but a taste of the information I'll take back to the trenches! I think I can start making some immediate changes when I get back. I'm also more aware of what I don't know, and I can't wait to start asking questions! This conference was exactly the kick in the arse my career needed.

MarketingProfs B2B Forum Takeaways, Vol. 1

2009-06-08T13:30:00.003-05:00

One thing all good Marketers should do: compelling offers. Every speaker today tells me this is uber-important when getting in front of customers and prospects.

Behind social media, the buzzword of the day is integration. Both in the sense of marketing campaigns (incorporating multi-touch opportunities--print, web, social media, video), but also in the sense of Sales and Marketing aligning and working together. There is lots of opportunity in both arenas, and have the perfect project to start turning the tide: my 3rd quarter Consultant Campaign. Direct mail, e-mail, microsite/reg form, direct to our social network sites.

General lead gen and nurturing question: where does Marketing end and Sales begin?

I learned something new today: "Digital Body Language." Here you can use a prospect's online behavior (sites visited, e-mails opened, whitepapers downloaded, etc) to determine what would be relevant to them. Very cool!

Right now, Twitter's main capacity in B2B Marketing is as a listening tool. Check regularly to see what customers are saying and be proactive in protecting your brand. Hopefully somewhere down the road we can use it to talk to our customers.

That's all for now...check back later for an update!

Be Careful What You Wish For.

2009-06-01T20:25:00.003-05:00

Ah, that term can be applied to so very many areas of life. More than once I've regretted not following that advice -- but that is a story best saved for a late Saturday night and a good bottle of riesling.

Have you been following the Jon & Kate Plus 8 saga? Man, I have. Their "scandalous behavior" and sensationalism around it has kept me riveted to USWeekly magazine. I mean, the show, which I've been watching since the beginning, is so wholesome. It portrays the lives of Jon and Kate Gosselin and their brood as so happy, so harmonious. Happy and doting parents, normal kids growing up in front of the camera. I understand now that the show is carefully scripted and sculpted to project that image. Behind the scenes, they're all regular folks with all the same problems you and I have...the only difference is that they're in the spotlight.

This Associated Press article really sums it all up nicely.

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Seriously -- if you offer yourself up to the public, you can't expect that you will be treated differently.

It's refreshing to see something like this, because I have a tendency to take everything I see at face value. If Jon and Kate say life is groovy, and it appears to me that life is groovy, I accept that they're somehow better at life than I am. But then something like their infidelity scandal hits the press, and I'm shocked to learn that life isn't all that groovy in the Gosselin household. Wait, what? But the show...

Yeah. That's exactly it. The show, although they call it reality TV, doesn't necessarily depict reality. I often forget this.

Celebrity is a risk taken when signing a showbiz contract. And celebrity means you are watched, and you are judged -- and in order to maintain a positive image, you must behave. And you can't take anything you say or do back...once your adoring public makes a judgment, the damage is done. I personally think that would be a sucky way to live. Jon and Kate were fools if they thought they were somehow different. Their marriage may be the casualty in a war within the press, and that would be the ultimate tragedy -- especially with eight children.

How the Hell Did I Do That?

2009-05-26T10:34:00.004-05:00

Hi folks. I'm back after a brief hiatus. It's been crazy in Jen's world the last couple of weeks! I've been traveling for work, and then the Memorial Day holiday weekend. Finally I can get back to life as I know it!

Fenway Park - Boston 5/14/09

Disneyland, Anaheim CA - 5/19/09

Otter Tail Lake, Memorial Day Weekend 2009

Traveling is tough, especially if you're me and on a regimented exercise/weight loss program. The way I do things does not really allow for variations such as change of venue or time zone. If I can't go to my local YMCA at 8:00 every morning, I don't exercise at all. This is just how I operate. So, two days in Boston messed up that whole week, and three days in Orange County meant the week was a complete loss, both with exercise and with diet.

So I fell completely off the wagon for about two weeks, even before we hit the cabin for Memorial Day. I decided that I would let myself enjoy the weekend and not stress about what I ate. I would come into this week rejuvenated and ready to undo the damage.

So this morning I dragged myself kicking and screaming to the Y. First item of business: get on the scale. I was both eager and reluctant to see how many steps backward I had taken.

Imagine my shock when I saw that my weight hadn't changed. I didn't know whether to be flabbergasted or ecstatic. I went with flabbergasted. How in the hell did I do that?

I guess it doesn't really matter. What matters is that I can clear my conscience of how and what I ate these past two weeks. I don't know if I'm getting better at eating reasonably, or if I got more exercise than I thought...but I do know I'm glad. I won't be feeling bad or getting down on myself, which is never a good way to start a week. Maybe I'll quit worrying about it now and get on with my day.

Stay classy, San Diego.

Green is the New Black

2009-05-18T07:41:00.003-05:00

So by now you can probably tell that I am making an effort to "go green." To "reduce my eco-footprint." To "preserve the earth for future generations." I've got my own vegetable garden, I've got a composter, and I am downright weird about recycling. And you know what? All this is a lot of work -- but I get a lot of satisfaction from making a tangible difference. The work is worth it.

The biggest area of chagrin for me is food packaging. My family consumes a whole lot of pre-packaged food, especially frozen food. And with all that food comes packaging -- boxes, bags, plastic clamshells. Some of which can be recycled, some of which cannot. I'm hoping to start cooking more fresh foods, but so far I haven't found the time to do that. Maybe an overabundance of fresh produce will give me the kick in the arse I need.

Anyway, I can always appreciate packaging that is practical and reusable. Hillshire Farm is leading the way, by packaging their sliced ham and turkey in Gladware. We all love Gladware, don't we? Recyclable, reusable, keeps toddlers entertained for hours. Another bonus -- there's no price difference between Hillshire Farm and, say, Oscar Meyer. There's a lot to be said for that.

I would encourage you to keep your eyes peeled for products like this -- that help you be green without significantly changing your lifestyle. Heck, why not?

All My Crazy Questions Answered!

2009-05-16T21:50:00.002-05:00

I don't know about you, but I often wonder how much of an impact the internet has made on life as we know it. This video provides that answer from a historical perspective. I'm convinced that I have been witnessing the next great "age" of history: the Internet Age. Enjoy.

BTW, thanks to MarketingProfs for sharing this fabulous bit of macroinfo.

On Social Media

2009-05-16T16:05:00.003-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about social media lately. As a B2B marketer, I try to stay tuned to the goings-on of the industry, and social media has been the buzzword for the last six months or so. I think Twitter takes most of the credit for grabbing the attention of the corporate world...it's like a whole new opportunity has magically presented itself.

That is, if you are in the business of talking directly to Joe Schmoe. Consumers. If you're in the business of talking to other businesses, or consultants, social media isn't the magic pill you'd think at first. People blog and tweet and Facebook -- businesses, not so much. I'm sure it won't be long before somebody figures out how to effectively communicate B2B through social media -- maybe that someone will be me! Although businesses still have a lot of learning to do in this area...I'll be following it!

This is the conclusion I've drawn in my recent research, but I still remain fascinated with the possibilities -- and related stresses -- of social media. After bemoaning the value (or lack thereof) of self-branding online, I went ahead and started just that sort of initiative. I can be personally googled. I have this blog, although I'm not sure anyone's reading it yet. I can be found on Facebook, MySpace, LinkedIn, Twitter, and FriendFeed. Right now my social media network is being used for both personal and professional purposes, and I'm waiting to see how that evolves. Works for me at the moment.

Brand Overhauls

2009-05-11T16:56:00.003-05:00

I've been noticing lately that many consumer brands have been changing. This article from Woman's Day confirms my observations! The marketing guru in me wonders if this will really help, or actually hinder in these tougher economic times.

One of these things is not like the other.

2009-05-11T15:51:00.004-05:00

After dropping Price off at day care this morning, I headed to the Y for my Monday step aerobics class. The roads were busy...at 7:45, trains are coming through and people are dropping their kids off at school. In the sea of Fords and Dodges and Toyotas, I spotted a car that looked rather out of place in humble Elk River:

A Maserati Gran Turismo coupe. Dark green, and a gorgeous car. Retail price for a 2009 model: $110,000.

I wondered what the hell a car like that was doing in downtown Elk River.

Elk River has blue collar roots. And even though many Twin Citians have relocated here over the last decade (myself included), this town isn't a hotbed of corporate activity. In fact, this past year Elk River lost the headquarters of one of its major businesses to Maple Grove because Elk River, with all of its car dealerships, farms, and industrial parks, doesn't project the image the company was looking for. In fact, they said and I quote, "The type of people that we need to attract want addresses like Edina and Minnetonka, not Elk River." Ouch.

Indeed, there aren't too many high rollers around here that would drive a Maserati. Most of our "rich" folks drive your standard Beemers and Mercedes.

The lady driving the Maserati headed west on Hwy 10, and I wish I knew where she was going. She looked like she belonged in Edina, DT Mpls, or outside Minnesota altogether. New York or L.A., perhaps.

But you know, I like this town. I wear my M & S Exteriors hoodie and feel perfectly at home here. I know, I used to make fun of people who wore logo gear from manufacturers, construction companies, and other blue-collar companies -- but now I am one of those people and am proud!

I like my house in the boonies. Elk River has pretty much everything I need...I don't make it into the Cities that often anymore. I like its proximity to major highways and I like how much easier it is to get to the cabin from here. The schools are good. The people are good. And if someone driving a Maserati feels compelled to drive through, I say welcome!

Green Thumb In Action.

2009-05-10T19:32:00.006-05:00

So. Friday is the big day!

What's so big about it, you ask?

Well, this next week is going to be crazy with traveling to Boston mid-week, so I took Friday off to take care of some bidness. I'm going to give myself my Mother's Day presents (a massage and a pedicure), and I'm going to FINALLY plant my garden!

I am so frickin excited -- my garden is all I've been able to think about for over a month. And now, the danger of frost has passed and the ground is primed.

I've got it all planned out. In my main garden next to the house I'm going to plant carrots, beans, peas, spinach, and lettuce. And then I'm going to create a plot somewhere out back for the creepy viney things like pumpkins, cukes, canteloupe, and watermelon. I also bought two Topsy Turvy Tomato Trees. Once those arrive they will house my tomatoes and bell peppers -- both of which are already started and in the basement awaiting planting.

I'm such a nerd. If you'd asked me two years ago if I would ever be this weird about growing things, I wouldn't have believed you. Ha!

Anyway, so I have a few things to do in order to prepare the garden to receive seeds. The first is, I have to buzz up to the horse farmer up the road and help myself to his pile of FREE horse manure. I bought three Menards 5-gallon buckets for the occasion. I just need Shawn's pickup truck -- no way are three buckets of literal horseshit going in my car. The manure will be used to fertilize the garden, and some will go in the composter.

I also need some new black dirt. Lots of new black dirt. I could buy it in 25-lb bags at Home Depot, but I'd rather my hubby call in a favor and get a couple yards of it for me.

Past that -- I have the seeds, I have the cages -- all I need is some time to get it done.

I've also been enamored with my birds. I bought a new seed feeder this spring, and my yard is most popular with the local avian population. I fill the feeder every day, and I've seen all kinds of birds out there -- mourning doves, various woodpeckers, nuthatches, goldfinches, robins, cardinals, even a rooster pheasant (he ate seeds on the ground, and completely dwarfed every other bird around him). The resident squirrels are feasting as well -- far be it from me to stop them. I got plenty of seed to go around! No hummingbirds yet...I think I'll have to plant some flowers to attract them.

AND, did I mention that my 170 tulips came up as planned this spring? When I planted them last September I wasn't sure I'd get them all. But I did, and early! They're almost done now, but they have been a joy, and really brighten up the front of my house. As do my new hanging baskets.

Aaahh. You know, I think that telecommuting has given me the chance to finally take an interest in my house and its curb appeal. No commute means more time! And I'm glad for that.

Reflections On Mother's Day.

2009-05-10T09:07:00.003-05:00

Happy Mother's Day to me.

I'm feeling pretty blessed. I'm loving my little man even more today...feeling beyond thankful to have him and to have the opportunity to raise him. I try to be a good mom, to raise him to grow up and become a productive member of society. I like to think he'll change the world.

I'm also feeling lucky to have my own mother. You know, they say that you never truly appreciate your mom until you have children of your own. I don't think that's completely true, at least for me. My mom and I have always had a great relationship, and I am perfectly aware how much she loves me. But on a deeper level, it is true. She worked and sacrificed for my brother and me, and that's what I didn't get until my son was born. I didn't get how much having a child truly changes your life. And for a woman to be more than willing to make any necessary adjustments to life as she knows it for her kids -- well, I think it's perfectly amazing. My mom did it, and I do it -- it's just part of the deal.

I also am blessed with a wonderful mother-in-law. She worked even harder and pushed through some bad circumstances to raise five healthy, happy children. I adore her.

I no longer have my grandmothers, but I am thinking about them today as well.

Because the Minnesota fishing opener falls on Mother's Day weekend this year, which means my hubby is gone until later today, I'm taking Friday off and will treat myself to a massage and pedicure before planting my garden. Sounds like a divine way to spend a day all to myself.

Happy Mother's Day!

Feeling All Adult and Stuff

2009-05-09T21:05:00.003-05:00

My brain is finally catching up to my age. The past week or so I've been thinking a lot about responsible stuff like life insurance, wills, safety deposit boxes, savings accounts, and disaster/emergency preparedness. What I like to call "Just In Case" syndrome.

I bought a Gerber Life policy for Price, which I'm totally thrilled about. Assuming I can maintain the premium payments until he's 25, that will be his nest egg. His college fund. His money to do with as he sees fit. And being able to provide that to him pleases me immensely.

Shawn and I both need to take out life insurance on ourselves. Shawn jokes that I just want to bump him off, but really -- it's the responsible thing to do. Just in case. Now that I've quit smoking, I think we can finally afford to do it. We simply have to.

Now that we have Price, we'll need to do a will. Good thing one of my very best friends is a lawyer; I know absolutely nothing about how to set up a will or trust.

I'm in the middle of taking an inventory of all our valuables -- writing down serial numbers and descriptions, taking pictures.

Then I have to gather all this ultra-important paperwork (house deed, insurance policies, SS cards, etc) and stash it in a safety deposit box somewhere.

Just in case. It's best to be prepared for any possibility. I hate to think of such adult things, bit now that I have a family -- someone's gotta do it.

My Home Party Days Are Done.

2009-05-09T15:48:00.002-05:00

Not that I've hosted a large number of home parties, but I've had a few. You know -- Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, Mary Kay, Premier Jewelry, etc. This morning I hosted what I've decided will be my last party. It was Jessica's inaugural Usborne Books party, and nobody came -- except Jackie. I sent probably 30 mailed invitations and invited everyone I know on Facebook, and not a one person came.

I think Jess was relieved to not have to face a large group of people, but I felt bad that I couldn't help her turn a profit on her first show. And, I must admit, I'm a bit disappointed.

So I'm done. I think we've all outgrown the home party phase, and I know nobody wants to drive up here to attend one anyway.

Okay -- I'm over it now. Done feeling sorry for myself. I put forth a valiant effort, I can say that much.

Thoughts on the Blogosphere

2009-05-08T12:53:00.003-05:00

I'm torn. I've been thinking a lot lately about the online world, about social media and personal branding and what that means to a career. I've been very active in the social media world, but purely on a personal level. I've been loathe to start doing it on a professional basis. Why? Let me list it all out.

I'm in Marketing, but I'm not all that passionate about marketing. It's a job, and my current chosen career path, but I don't love it enough to immerse myself in it. I think that immersion and passion are key if you're going to have anything worth sharing online.
I don't feel that I have much expertise. I don't care enough to become an expert in any area of marketing. I've always been more of a generalist, which has served me well so far, but doesn't lend itself to a targeted social media identity.
I suppose I could write about my one potentially career-related passion, which is writing. But again, I haven't developed any real expertise. I just know it's what I want to do someday.
I think there's a lot of pressure to proactively prepare for a jobsearch. I read the other day that if you can't be personally googled, you might as well not exist. I see many blogs and LinkedIn network pages, and I suspect that many people are doing it to build themselves up for a kickass job somewhere down the road. This is what they're recommending these days, and it strikes fear in my heart -- what if I lose my job and can't get another one because I didn't do the same? Do I really need to have thousands of LinkedIn connections and a viral blog in order to get a job?
Which leads me to my next question: who has time to do that if you already have a full-time job?
I would rather blog about whatever I want and not feel limited to blogging about career-appropriate subjects. I don't want to have to censor myself, or maintain two blogs/LinkedIn profiles/Twitter profiles. I want to be myself. I don't feel I can really be me if I want to "build a personal brand." I doubt any potential employer would hire me if they see half the crap I say on Twitter and Facebook. Which begs the question -- if that's the case, would I want to work for such a company?
And really, how much more can I stand of corporate life? If I were to lose my current gig, would I really want to go back? Would it be worth all the effort in the end?
I've always wanted to be different. To stand out somehow. I feel like anything I could possibly blog about is already being blogged about by a thousand other people. Who would care about what I have to contribute? This is also an insecurity I have about my writing, which makes it difficult for me to discipline myself and actually write. My own issue to manage.

Maybe I have commitment issues when it comes to my career. Maybe I have regrets over the decisions I've made and the paths I've forged in my career. And maybe I don't know what to do about that, so I just toddle along as I am. Just the thought of a career change scares the bejesus out of me and draws many protests from my husband.

So I just keep going, and wonder why I never find the true balance I'm always seeking.

Bristol Palin -- Just Like Her Mother.

2009-05-06T10:51:00.003-05:00

I saw this article, and in blinking neon lights my mind produced the word HYPOCRITE. I remember that happening once before, while Sarah was on the campaign trail.

I'm with Levi on this one. Abstinence isn't realistic for today's young people...so let's teach them how to do it safely.

The Most Amazing Website

2009-05-03T09:28:00.002-05:00

Check PostSecret out if you haven't yet. It'll invariably make you feel better about your own life.

twitter: postsecret

Become a fan on Facebook

I've Had Better Days.

2009-04-27T15:05:00.001-05:00

Ever have one of those days when your demons decide to wake up and wreak havoc? Yeah, that's what I've got going on today...an exorcism. Check in tomorrow, hopefully I'll be better!

Garage Sale Season Officially Begins Today.

2009-04-25T11:18:00.003-05:00

I learned something new today: the folks here in Elk River take their garage sales very seriously. And today I joined their ranks.

Two groups (Mothers of Multiples and Early Childhood Family Education) hosted large fundraiser rummage sales today -- one in the high school, the other in an elementary school. Out of curiosity, and also because Price needs summer clothes, I decided to venture into town and check the sales out.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I arrived at Parker Elementary School at 8:30am -- 30 minutes before the doors opened -- to find a line of probably 200 people stretching halfway around the building. Many came prepared with reusable shopping bags. One lady brought her own large plastic bin. Most had bottled beverages or coffee. As I took my place in line, I began to feel a little underprepared. All I had was my purse, which at normal rummage sales is plenty enough.

The doors opened, we all poured into the building, and I was handed a big blue plastic IKEA bag. At the time I thought this was a bit excessive, but I went with it. I stopped in the Toys room first, and I couldn't believe the insanity. Crazy-eyed women (women outnumbered men approximately 100:1 here) were literally running from toys to strollers to playpens and back to toys, writing their names on just about everything they touched. Several seemed prepared to start bitch-slapping anyone who might try to interfere -- even innocent folks trying to squeeze by.

Fearing for my life, I vacated the Toys room and sought out the clothes. This room was relatively civil. I found the 2T rack, and was suddenly very glad I had the oversized IKEA bag. I filled it up with summer shirts, shorts, swim trunks, jammies, sweats, and a couple of small toys. I could feel the competitive nature of garage-saling creeping into my head as I perused the rack. I realized that if I wanted PJs, I had to find them and grab them quickly -- I talked to several other women who were on the PJ hunt as well. There wasn't much time to spare -- if I thought something was even remotely cute, I stuffed it into my bag. I knew that it likely wouldn't be there if I came back for it.

Women were walking around with overflowing bags. Others who didn't get a bag carried piles of clothes taller than they were. Several sat in groups on the floor, organizing and showing off their finds. All had a certain concentration about them, as if getting good clothes for cheap was their sole reason for being on this chilly morning. It was contagious. I was glad I went when the doors opened, rather than waiting until later in the morning. I spent $44 on a huge bagful of clothes, and I feel good that Price's entire summer wardrobe is set.

It was a productive morning.

Under Construction

2009-04-24T21:09:00.001-05:00

Hi! Welcome to my new virtual home! I'm in the process of moving in, unpacking, and decorating...but it won't take long until I'm up and running. Check back soon!